- Noise art, musique concréte, glitch—this kind of music is often hard to find a route into. My inroad into Ryoji Ikeda was his 2005 dataplex LP. I was blown away by how intricate and grounded his productions were, from his masterful management of texture and sound design to his deft synthesis of music and visual art. For music that's so deeply rooted in the fundamentals of sound, rhythm and timbre, I knew I had to experience this live to really understand it.
A half-hour wait lulled the crowd before a sudden hit of broken-beat techno rolled out of the stacks. Soft, ocean-blue light bathed the atrium. There was a little confusion as to who exactly was playing—the stage remained empty and the lights static. The support DJ delivered pulsating subs and cinematic strings, followed by Bonobo-esque electronica and some brisk techno. It was an enjoyable set but a red herring for the polarity of Ikeda's conceptual performance.
Soon after, Ikeda hopped onto the stage, calm and unassuming, donning a pair of shaded glasses. A series of rapid kick drums hit the audience like bullets, before glitched-out broken beats took over. In the context of live performance, Ikeda's Superposition needs to be seen as a palette of textures, rather than a strictly linear narrative. Some parts reminded me of Venetian Snares, with his relentlessness and irregular time signatures. People dancing to the dense, arrhythmic passages was somewhat baffling, but it was good to see them getting into it.
The A/V show was abrasive and, due to its intensity, sometimes taxing. Brief moments of calm and coherence provided some respite. Permeations of Ikeda's recent Vinyl Factory exhibition featured in the set, and it was nice to see these motifs reimagined live. The black and white visuals complimented the heady science-based artistic inquiry, and it wasn't long before I envied those who had come prepared with a pair of sunglasses.
In spite of an exhilarating conclusion, the performance grew slightly tenuous towards the end, simply due to its lack of dynamism. For those who enjoy Ikeda's productions for their textural breadth and rhythmic intricacies, these qualities seemed somewhat lacking. Some post-concert commenters voiced their unfulfilled expectations, as if they were left waiting for a progression or variation to occur. But it's probably best to not have any expectations in the first place. Music like Ikeda's invites a different kind of listening.
Photo credit /
Carla Cuomo