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Archive for the ‘Visuals / Video’ Category

Concert review – Matthew Herbert & The London Sinfonietta: One Day (20/11/10)

Wednesday, November 24th, 2010

Wow. Where to start.

To me, Matthew Herbert is a musical hero and key inspiration, but as with many of my favourite artists I enjoy a mixed relationship with his work. His 90′s microhouse still gets me fidgeting on the dancefloor and his Big Band project was a beautifully realised synergy of politics, creative concept and music. However, his more recent output has failed to grab me. 2002′s Plat Du Jour, created entirely from recordings of food or food related sources, was high on concept but weaker on music. His more song based approach, such as 2006′s Scale, sounds somewhat flat to me.

matthew_herbert

Underlining all Herbert’s work is his fascinating (not to mention obsessive) personal manifesto for music making, which lays down rules about originality and the integration rather than discarding of ‘mistakes’. It calls for strict adherence to an overarching concept which dictates everything from sample sources and sound design right down to track names and tempos. This resonates with me – I love music as a wider artistic statement. If a tune is composed from the ground up with elements that comply to a particular message I appreciate it all the more, even if I do have to read about the concept first. In this way it’s like visual art – it often helps to read the blurb in a gallery to fully appreciate the work.

However, when listening to an album it has to be the music that counts once all’s said and done. If it’s not interesting to listen to then it’s failing as music, however strong the concept. This is where I believe Herbert’s recent recordings have faltered – one can chin-stroke at the ideas behind them but they lack sonic interest compared to his freer, funkier dance music. It’s telling that in my experience he’s always been better live, where one can see the processes involved in the music making – live looping, imaginative sampling (tea cups smashing, newspapers being ripped up), traditional instrumentation and vocals, all adding to a greater whole. One Day (the name marrying the concert with his current trilogy of albums) bridged the gap between concept, creative process and music more fully than any of his live performances I’ve seen to date.

The concert was an interpretation of the Guardian newspaper from Saturday 25th September 2010 – a bold thing to attempt, particuarly given that the whole thing was written in 6 weeks. The ever reliable London Sinfonietta, a jazz quartet (nestled up in the Royal Box), and singer Eska joined Herbert who was front stage at London’s Royal Festival Hall behind his array of machines and keyboards. One Day could have simply misfired, or been pretentious nonsense, but it proved to be witty, thought-provoking, original and hugely entertaining.

Proceedings began with the audience being given a copy of the paper in question, which acted as program and guide. With satisfying forward thinking Herbert had taken out an advert in the Review section that day which acted as a welcome and statement of intent on the night. Before each song a compare led us through the thinking behind the work, directing our attention to the articles that inspired the music and highlighting the links between them. This was very welcome – it would have been an impenetrable experience without. Complimenting the music (some of which was composed from recordings of the paper being produced at Guardian HQ) were projected videos with live sound effects by a foley artist and various on-stage antics such as live cookery and paper cutting.

From the unavoidable rustling of papers to parts that were actually directed by the conductor, audience participation was very much a part of things. We had to jangle our keys during a song about housing and rub credit cards together during a piece about a Sothebys auction. When food was the subject we were encouraged to make paper planes out the adverts we considered to represent the highest food miles. As a finale, the audience were divided into sections and our newspapers acted as instruments – beating, ripping and shaking in time with the music. The participation was great fun and broke down the ‘performer / audience’ barrier somewhat (although it was amusing to see Herbert getting slightly flustered when we continued outside the strict windows he’d composed for!) Most people wore bemused, amused looks – it was kind of insane, but it worked.

The connections Herbert drew between various parts of the paper and the means by which he represented them on the night deftly highlighted the tragedy, absurdity, mundanity and hilarity of popular media culture. One piece had the jazz band somberly covering Status Quo’s ‘In The Army Now’ whilst a video was shown of Francis Rossi and the boys jovially larking about at an army training camp. Meanwhile the audience were directed to articles about World War I gas attacks and there was even something to do with a gas mask on stage, the specifics of which escape me!

It would be too convoluted to detail all the comparisons and contrasts drawn between the Guardian stories, but others included an obituary Vs a zombie video game Vs a dead mothers favourite brownie recipe and a West Bank housing controversy Vs. Middle England domestic bliss. The latter involved volunteers building a wall out of red bricks on which they mounted a window in front of which they erected a lounge scene in which 2 girls watched telly and drank wine whilst the Guardian gardening columnist tended to window boxes ‘outside’. It sounds like chaos but it hung together surprisingly well. It was creaky but fascinating, encouraging one to think and laugh – much like Herberts music.

Speaking of the music, while it had its moments, it was somewhat forgettable for the most part. In fact if this had been a regular Herbert album, my critique of it falling slightly flat would apply. But being allowed into his creative world and the multi-sensory nature of the show took it beyond just music – it was far more a performance art piece than a straight concert. As such it was the perfect demonstration of Matthew Herberts creative intention which itself far exceeds sound, and a performance that refreshed his place on my ‘heroes’ list.

Read Matthew Herbert’s article in the Guardian about One Day, or watch the video.

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Chris Cunningham live at the Brighton Dome, 19th April 2010

Tuesday, April 20th, 2010
Windowlicker

Windowlicker

It’s been a long time since I saw any Chris Cunningham films. Like most people I was wowed by his 90′s splurge of awe-inspiring, utterly original and mostly very dark music videos for the likes of Aphex Twin, Portishead and Bjork. I also liked some of his more commercial output (Madonna, PlayStation adverts) and his uncharacteristically sedate video for Leftfield. Then there’s the curios like Monkey Drummer. But I think the last full-length Chris Cunningham film I saw was Rubber Johnny in 2005. This seemed to display a return to his dark, experimental roots, taking the unsettling horror movie vibe of Come To Daddy a stage further.

Last night I was re-introduced to the twisted world of Cunningham in spectacular style. If Rubber Johnny took the horror up a notch then his latest live show, projected on to 3 giant screens with accompanying audio, raises it so high that it blows the scale. Falling somewhere between a musical performance (featuring classic tracks and Cunninghams own remixes/productions) and live cinema, it was an hour of profoundly unsettling but arresting and accomplished work.

Cunningham’s trademark marriage of sound and visuals is still ever present but both more refined and more direct: it’s easy to miss the syncopation between the flash of a train wheel sparking and a wheeze of static, but somewhat easier to spot the association between a woman bouncing her giant breasts in time with the throbbing beat.

Much of the audio is cacophonous and lacking a regular rhythm but there is always that inseparable correlation between it and the visuals. This is where Cunningham excels (I often wonder why other video artists miss the chance to tie visual and sonic cues together to even a fraction of the degree exhibited by Cunningham). However, I preferred the more rhythmic output of his early music videos – there was something profound and organic, almost synaesthetic, about this audiovisual inseparability that I think is slightly lacking from the frenetic noise of his current work.

The performance was divided into several pieces, some with themes more obvious than others but with no overarcing narrative. In this way it was like a twisted VJ set. Proceedings started with footage moving around some kind of machine that fired green lazers. An actual lazer spat spears of light over the audience too, giving the impression that you were in the machine.

Next came a sallow, yellowy-green mound of flesh; slowly writhing. At first I wasn’t sure if it was one body or several, but it transpired that it was a man and a woman. What could have been rough love developed into near-rape and then brutal, mutual violence in a film that pulled no punches. Explicit sexual imagery was sporadically flashed on the outermost screens whilst centre stage the man and woman, naked, beat the shit out of each other in perfect syncopation with aggressive techno. Donna Summer’s I Feel Love was slowly introduced into the mix making it all the more obvious that Cunningham was exploring the links between sex and violence.

It wouldn’t have been nearly so disturbing if it was two men or even two women fighting and I’m undecided as to whether the woman getting even in the fight justified the fact she was the only bloodied party and that, moments earlier, she was lying prone and apparently defeated as the man loomed over her, grasping his semi-erect penis. Pretty full on stuff, and whilst I felt prompted to make a moral judgment regarding man versus woman in the context of sexual dominance, I wonder in hindsight if the piece had such clear cut intentions.

I thought things were going to lighten when I heard the twinkle of a Boards of Canada tune, but it didn’t last. Neither did the ‘Intermission’ which was declared on-screen, superceeded by a few seconds of inertness, then followed by the message ‘Intermission Ends’ and an explosion of noise. Funny! (Funny ha-ha or Funny mental I’m not sure!) Some classic videos like Windowlicker made an appearance, as did the alien-looking PlayStation girl.

The final piece is the one that has stayed with me most strongly. Apparently Cunningham has been working with Gil Scott-Heron’s new material, utilising night-time footage of trains and subways to augment Heron’s from-the-heart poetry. His tired visage was overlaid on a black background as shooting lights gradually revealed themselves to be trains, stations, tunnels and track. Heron gruffly spoke/sung his bluesy lament over stark, ringing, swooping synths. With the brooding, edgy urban visuals it made for a foreboding finale. It seems that Heron’s latest material fits perfectly with Cunninghams teasing out of the modern cityscape’s innate light and sound show. For me it held the kind of detached and unsettling yet strangely beautiful aesthetic that is found under streetlamps in pre-dawn drizzle; deserted industry; places where the stamp of humanity is so saturated that humanity itself is absent.

Overall I think Cunningham has become more explicit and brash, which in some ways is a shame. It seems that pleasant and uplifitng noises, music and visuals aren’t part of modern experimental electronic discourse. Take the talks hosted by the Southbank Centre’s annual Ether festival this year, focussing as they are on the controlling, homogenising nature of urban landscapes and electronic music. I think there’s room for a more optimistic and beauty-focussed voice, myself. That said, Chris Cunningham remains an undeniably powerful and technically mind-boggling artist, still with the power to shock and captivate and still at the top of his game.

PS, I’d highly recommend sourcing decent copies of his videos if you haven’t seen them – YouTube just doesn’t do them justice.

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