The moths were out again. Drawn like us to the flicker of candlelight and the strange magic of music in the dark. This was the second time I’ve played for a Goth Moth event in the heart of York, and somehow it felt even more poignant than the first.
The night was called Tragedy and Triumph, and I can’t think of a more fitting title. Not just for the music itself - a weaving of sorrowful refrains and uplifting crescendos - but for the atmosphere, the energy, and the sheer emotional weight that came from playing in such a unique setting with a group of kindred spirits.
Goth Moth is a collective in the truest sense of the word. We’re a group of musicians from all walks of life - classical, folk, experimental, gothic, and everything in between - who come together every so often to create something dark, beautiful, and ephemeral. Over the last two events, we’ve had the most eclectic and inspiring mix: classical singers, cellists, pianists, folk musicians, and of course, the harp (that’s me). The magic lies in the contrast, and yet somehow, it always feels cohesive. Like threads in the same tapestry, each performance adds its own hue to the evening.
For me, York holds a special place in my heart. My family has deep roots here - stories passed down through generations, walks along the city walls, and memories of childhood visits steeped in the romance of cobbled streets and gothic spires. There’s a certain stillness to the city, an ancientness that never quite fades, and every time I return, it feels like coming home.
And what a setting York Cemetery Chapel is! Tucked away in the most peaceful grounds, surrounded by headstones and trees, it’s a place where time seems to pause. The building itself is grand yet welcoming, a vaulted ceiling and marble floors, with acoustics that are - quite literally - to die for. Playing the harp in that space felt like letting the instrument breathe properly for the first time. There’s barely any need for amplification or effects - just the pure, organic sound of string against air. It’s rare these days to play in a venue that respects the natural dynamics of acoustic instruments, but here, every note rang clear and true. It reminded me how overly digital sound setups can often flatten the soul of the music, especially for something as delicate as the harp.
But perhaps even more powerful than the music was the sense of connection - to the space, to the audience, and most of all, to the other musicians. There’s a warmth and camaraderie that’s grown between us since the first Goth Moth. It’s not just a concert - it feels like a gathering of friends, many of whom had never met before this. We arrive as strangers, but leave as collaborators, each of us inspired by the others. Some of the most special conversations I’ve had this year have taken place over cups of tea in the makeshift green room, or while helping each other set up.
A huge part of the atmosphere is down to Stephen and Karen (The Velvet Sheep), the organisers and heart of Goth Moth. I honestly don’t think you could meet two more welcoming, genuine people. Their kindness sets the tone for the entire event - there’s no ego, no pretension, just a love for music and a desire to bring people together. It’s rare, and it’s something I’ll always be grateful for.
To anyone who might have hesitated about coming to one of these events - maybe unsure if it’s ‘your thing’ or worried about not knowing anyone - I promise you, it’s a decision you wouldn’t regret. As soon as you step through the chapel doors, you’re part of the family. The audience is just as warm as the performers - attentive, supportive, and deeply appreciative of the atmosphere we’re all trying to create.
The future of Goth Moth is, as of now, uncertain. I hope with all my heart that there will be more. There’s something too special here to be lost to time. But even if this was the last fluttering of the moths for a while, it’s a memory I’ll carry with me for many, many years. A moment suspended in candelight, filled with music, friendship, and the gentle hush of a city that I will always love.
Until next time, York.
And thank you, Goth Moth.
Fancy listening to some of the music of our collective?
A few to check out include Papillon de Nuit, Westenra, Skeletal Family, Beck Stacey, Iryna Muha, and Kinaara.
Full videos of my performance can be viewed here.
All photos taken by Paul Baxter, March 2025.