Music-and-sound-art-festival-held-in-fort attending adventures (part of a series)
Newhaven Fort, East Sussex,
Sat 3rd Sept
So one night I happen to be watching a
documentary on Miyazaki making 'The Wind Rises'.
Or more specifically on how he was motivated by the contradictory
feelings of being avowedly anti-war while attracted to the
aesthetics of militarism. And of course back in the day I was
attending antinuclear marches while almost simultaneously listening
to industrial music, pretty much militarism for the ears. So I knew
the feeling.
And what do I do the very next day but
attend (and I quote) “an expansive multi-disciplinary music and arts festival held in
the evocative spaces of Newhaven Fort in East Sussex”?
All those stories which reached us from
the continent, of people squatting old Car War bunkers to turn them
into venues, this must be the nearest to that I've seen. Except it
didn't just repurpose the fort but take advantage of it's layout,
take it's nest of nooks and crannies and create a spontaneous sound
art happening around every corner. Despite it being a mere half hour
ride from Brighton I'd never been to the place before. Which made the
experience only the richer as I ascended ramparts, descended
vertiginous stairwells and traversed corridors so narrow as to
resemble some strange Surrealist film set.
There was a programme but in true
festival spirit it seemed more appropriate to drift, trusting to run
into something you weren't expecting, following the sound trails like
some Pied Piper child. At one point, following sounds along a long
underground tunnel I eventually realised that rather than some act
lying tantalisingly ahead of me they were coming from a string of
hidden speakers. I'd gone from Pied Piper child to White Rabbit
chaser! (When I did get to the end there was some woman reading
earnest poetry while naked. You don't win 'em all...)
The choice of setting was doubly
inspired. Music venues are built around old showbiz schematics which
map relatively easy to rock and pop music, so we normally don't think
to question such basics as darkened auditoriums and spotlit stages.
But music such as this comes from a wholly other tradition, which
works its magic better in a wholly other environment.
And improvised music (which much of
this line-up was) is always site-specific, always
based around the mood of the moment and the acoustic properties of
the space. I certainly shan't forget Inwards emitting
electronica from inside a bunker, viewable only through a narrow slit
like the world's most secure DJ booth, while we musical eavesdroppers
hung out oustide.
The day was a mix-up of performances,
film showings and sound installations. The amount of stuff on offer
made for almost an embarassment of riches, and I did find myself
passing through the installations rather than letting them sink in,
keen not to miss the next happening – resulting in their playing
something of a second fiddle.
But at the same time there was an
appealing absence of any neat dividing line between installations and
performances. For example Alice and Luuma's Self-resonating Feedback
Cellos (handily pictured) was “a durational droneduet for
elctro-acoustically modifed cellos and no cellists”, essentially
self-perpetuating cello feedback. While Hakarl's eight hour
performance was in it's way an installation which merely used live
musicians rather than mechanisms. As the string trio played slow and
repetitive lines from inside a gun emplacement, making for a
surprisingly natural auditorium, I watched a passanger ferry slowly
emerge over the horizon and pull into town – it seemed part of the
thing. (I also liked the way one player sported a Taylor Swift
T-shirt.)
Seijiro Murayama's set was a classic
case, as it would not have worked so well in a more standard setting.
The bare lighting, the way we casually sat around him on the floor
matched his stripped-down performance – one drum, one cymbal and
one voice. He'd often pause unhurriedly between sections, eyes
remaining closed, unconcerned with providing a steady flow of
entertainment, doing merely what he was moved to do. I know I always
say this stuff is analagous to shamanic ritual. But honestly, I say
it because it's true!
There were a couple of acts I found
disappointing. Of course there were the inevitable outbreaks of
frenetic jazz rock and the like, but as there were multiple
opportunities at any one time I just made my way elsewhere. I mean
here stuff I sought out, then felt afterwards I'd backed the wrong
horse. (And remember I was mostly avoiding stuff I'd seen before,
feeling the day was about encountering something new.)
I was keen to see Audrey Chen again,
after her enthralling set at Colour Out of Space. (Now
some seven years ago!) In that time she's ditched the cello
and now relies only on her voice. Perhaps tonsils are simply an
easier item to pack, when travelling from one international festival
to another. And the sounds she could conjour from those vocal chords,
with no need for effects or filters... it was
impressive. But those possessed-sounding voices have become something
of a genre of their own, while the cello gave her something more
unique. Best points were when she sounded the possessed version of a
soul singer.
I was equally eager to see Carla
Bosulich, and equally disappointed. While I can't claim to know her
music well I like it when I hear it – like bluesy songwriting and
lo-fi freakery got double-booked but somehow managed to get along.
Like a more volume, less laid back Califone. Here, for the first half of her set she kneeled over a guitar which
she scraped with found objects while pressing pedals. The second half
grew more song-based, marked by her throwing back her hoodie and even
taking to her feet. But the result was rather neither-nor, like
whichever half we were in was the wrong one – too loose followed by
too constrained. It was too much like what a rock star does when
they're not doing a set-list set.
But more happily and more often, I
stumbled across other things I previously knew not of and was wowed
by. John Chantler's electronica set was something like a
chauffeur-driven rollercoaster ride, being expertly taken through the
most vertigious twists and turns. I especially liked the way he'd
skid in and out of beats. Too often when electronica artists turn to
beats it's like the fun stuff is over, and the set becomes
constrained within their tramlines. Whereas Chantler was their
master, not their servant.
When you watch electronica artists
hunched behind a line of jack leads, they can seem as remote and arcane as sorcerers casting secret
spells. Conversely Pierre Bastien (also handily pictured) took the
'demystifying' approach of the post-punk days in a new direction.
He'd built a meccano construction, projected up on the screen above
him, around which he'd loop tapes. He'd play along while triggering
samples, often accompanied by a video of their making. His enthused
stage persona was part mad scientist part children's entertainer,
infusing music-making not just with the sense of accessibility but of
fun.
At the other extreme, Ewa Justka was
lit only by the glare of a flashing white light. She emitted a fusion
of electronic noise and dance music for the end of time, the pumping
beats giving a discipline over the usual self-indulgent howlaround.
By fortuitous scheduling she followed some dippy New Age act, less
like night following day than truth winning out over platitudes. In
fact as the set went on I came to think of it almost as an antidote
and corrective to the blissed-out all-hold-hands feelgood of dance
music, uniting us all but by pulverizing us into our constituent
atoms. Remarkably, she was able to keep the sonic onslaught up for
some forty-five minutes without losing any of it's impact. We
staggered out and somehow got the train home.
More of my photos of the day over on Flickr.
You can see photos of the Fort in all it's at the event's website.
A brief write-up and some cool photos
of the events at Cutlasses.
That set by Seijiro Murayama...
...and Ewa Juska, though from Warsaw...
… while this short film's of the
predecessor event. Which alas I didn't attend, but gives you a good
flavour...
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