SIX THOUSAND VOICES, FORTY MUSICIANS, ONE PERFECT HAEVN NIGHT |

LIVE REVIEW | HAEVN w/ Amistat | AFAS LIVE, AMSTERDAM | 6th February 2026 by Kevin O’Sullivan

Orchestra, choir, and a decade of songs — with the European tour ending at O2 Shepherd’s Bush, September 23rd

I’ve been to shows that said they were going to be special. Anniversary nights, big announcements, bold promises. Most of the time it’s fine. Sometimes it’s even good. February 6th at AFAS Live was different. HAEVN didn’t just mark ten years — they drew a line under everything they’ve been building toward and finally let the songs exist at full size.

AFAS Live holds 6,000 people and sits quietly between monsters — the Ziggo Dome next door, the Johan Cruyff Arena looming nearby. But on this night, it didn’t feel like the smaller sibling. It felt like the right room. Full, focused, emotional. The kind of crowd that knows why it’s there. Plenty of fans who’ve been with the band since the early days, right at the barrier, singing every word, some of them already in tears before the first song really got going.

Amistat

Before any orchestra appeared, Amistat walked onstage and did what very few support acts manage — they made people stop talking. Twin brothers Josef and Jan Prasil hadn’t played a show in two months, which they mentioned almost apologetically, despite there being nothing to apologise for. Born in Germany, raised in Italy, with roots in the Czech Republic and Australia, there’s a sense of movement woven into their music. Harmonies that feel lived in rather than overworked. The Simon & Garfunkel comparisons are inevitable, but live there’s also Ben Howard’s introspection and that Kings of Convenience calm that gently settles a room. Their songs feel like somewhere to sit down emotionally.

A genuinely brilliant support set — and with Amsterdam and The Hague dates already lined up again for November, it felt less like a warm-up and more like a “see you soon”. Now all that’s missing is a UK date.

HAEVN

The orchestra walked onstage and suddenly the night felt different.

HAEVN were upfront when they announced the February 6th and 8th shows: a ten-year anniversary, a 40-piece symphonic orchestra, the G-Roots Gospel Choir, special guests, a new EP — our songs the way we’ve always imagined them. It’s a risky thing to promise.

When the orchestra appeared and “The Sea” began, it immediately felt right. The strings swelled, the band stepped into the sound rather than fighting it, and the room responded in kind. The choir would join later in the night, surfacing at carefully chosen moments to lift the songs without ever overwhelming them. Six thousand people sang along, many in tears, without hesitation. You could feel just how long this moment had been building.

HAEVN — Marijn van der Meer and Jorrit Kleijnen — have always sounded cinematic. Kleijnen’s background as a film composer shows in the way tension builds and releases, and van der Meer’s unique voice brings warmth and restraint that keeps it human. They met working on film music, and honestly, that explains everything. These songs have always felt like scenes from something bigger. This night just gave them the scale they deserved.

“Finding Out More” and “Beginners” brought Amistat back onstage, and somehow those harmonies sat perfectly inside a full orchestral arrangement. “Back in the Water” felt heavier, “Till the Morning” with néomí floated. “Promise” and “Fortitude” showed how controlled HAEVN can be even when there are forty orchestral musicians and a choir behind them.

When the opening notes of “Bright Lights” started, it didn’t need explaining. Phones came out, torches went on, and suddenly the whole venue was glowing. Not forced, not cheesy — just instinctive. Six thousand small lights swaying in time, the orchestra holding things steady underneath. It was one of those moments you don’t film properly because you’re too busy standing there, taking it in.

“Throw Me a Line” landed hard. Introduced as a song about humanity and fellowship — about everyone in the world who needs someone — and for a few minutes it felt like the entire room was leaning in together. No noise, no distraction, just attention.

And then there was “Trade It for the Night.”

The live version of the song was released last year and somehow already feels timeless. It was my track of 2025 long before this show happened, and seeing it live — stretched into a ten-minute version with Neco Novellas — completely justifies that. If you listen to one HAEVN song, make it this one. Novellas, classically trained and endlessly joyful, brings something electric to the stage. Jorrit once heard him sing in a jazz bar and immediately knew he belonged in the HAEVN world. Watching them together, you understand why that friendship stuck. This wasn’t indulgent. It was expansive. One of the many highlights of the night.

From there, “Ever Know,” “The Other Side of Sea,” “We Are,” and “Love Is a Game” carried the emotional weight forward. “The Other Side of Sea” was especially powerful — written by Marijn van der Meer years ago in his bedroom while dreaming of bigger stages, and played live for the very first time here. Before it began, Jorrit turned to him and said, “I hope you’re goddam proud of yourself,” a line that landed hard knowing what followed. Hearing that song make its debut on a stage of this size, in front of a full orchestra, felt like a quiet full-circle moment.

“Caught a Light” and “Great Mother” — a reminder of our deep connection to the planet and the responsibility we share to protect its beauty and gifts — returned with Neco Novellas and lifted the night even further.

A solo violin, electric oboe and saxophone appeared throughout the show, each entrance so perfectly judged that all 6,000 people seemed to fall silent at the same moment. At different points across the night, these instruments were carried by lone players stepping forward onstage, accentuating the songs rather than overpowering them. You could sense they were making the most of a rare opportunity — playing with the orchestra for the first time, leaning into it, and letting those moments land in a way that lifted the performance without ever breaking its spell.

Between songs, Jorrit spoke with genuine disbelief at how far they’d come, thanking the universe for crossing his path with Marijn van der Meer. The crowd didn’t need persuading. They already knew.

“One Day” closed the night quietly, without forcing anything.

This wasn’t just an anniversary show, it was a band stepping fully into itself. AFAS Live may be smaller than its neighbours, but on this night it held something immense — not because of volume or spectacle, but because these songs were finally being heard in the space they were always meant to occupy. Quietly, patiently, they have been building a devoted fanbase, and it’s hard not to feel that in ten years’ time a room like this will be far too small. To be there on the first night, hearing this music unfold with an orchestra, felt like a genuine privilege — a moment you sense will be looked back on as the beginning of something even bigger.