“I sat down four years ago at my piano in search of tranquility of mind and some form of essence that I could grab on to,” explains Joep Beving as he turns to the audience after his opener, a stunning rendition of the solemn Ab Ovo, with its delicate flourishes of hope and wonder.

The wiry, handsome Dutchman proceeded to stun with a set of pieces from Solipsism and Prehension, his two albums of minimal neo-classical piano that have found a cult online fanbase.

So deep was the silence in the nearly-full St. George’s Church, you could hear birdsong outside during the brief interludes between songs, complementing the sense of universality produced by his instinctive compositions.

Everywhere you looked, eyes were closed reflectively and couples leaned into one another. Beving’s performance was wonderfully pure, straddling a fine line between grotesque horror and intense beauty, marked by a striking command of dynamics.

Macabre, Satie-esque waltzes flowed into sustain-draped pieces recalling at once Yann Tiersen’s marvel and Angelo Badalementi’s twisted surrealism. The brevity of his songs made them particularly arresting, with every note serving a purpose and contributing to a greater whole.

Beving’s technique is tactile and immersive, showcased perfectly on For Steven, a bittersweet tribute to a friend who was killed in a tragic accident, and Sleeping Lotus, an ode to the dreams, hopes and fears of his young daughter But the highlight of the night was saved for the end - the awesome Hanging D, a single repeated note weaved with ominous arpeggios, building suddenly to an intense cacophony of chords, all ghost notes and yearning.

Tom Furnival-Adams