“Had a great, and very cultural evening with the wonderful Arani at the Barbican. I would tell you what the show was about but a drone stole my program…. And it was wearing feathers!”
This was my Facebook post following a performance I saw on Friday 12th September. My friend Arani and I embarked on a bit of culture after completing our working week in the city. Well I say “completing” for some of us Friday’s can mean taking a break and then going back to work either that evening or Saturday morning.
Arani had sent me an email the week before asking me if I wanted to go and see a show. Arani has an eye for gigs so I knew that I could always trust her judgement, however I was not expecting this type of show.
It had been years since I last walked through the doors of the Barbican in London. Thirteen years prior I worked in a building opposite it at my very first job. The venue itself had not changed; it was still as confusing to find anything as it was several years before.
When on our way to the theatre on the ground floor, we passed an interest exhibit which consisted of clear rubbed tubes hanging like elephant trunks, connected to a flat base from the ceiling. The trunks were moving by themselves.
Being a former artist I know that a captivating piece can spark the imagination of most, but in completely different ways. You see what you want to see. I looked at the tubes like they were elephant trunks and what good toys they would be for the prospective ferrets my husband and I are planning on getting. As they moved they then reminded me of some of the scenes from War of the Worlds (Tom Cruise version), when the tripods were scoping people out of the water. Arani saw this too.
We made our way to the bar to get a few ciders, and then entered the theatre to take our seats. We were near the front and in the centre so we had a great view, the attendants pointing people to their seats were insistent that we switch our mobiles phones off and that there was no photography of any kind. I cheekily turned to Arani and said:
“What type of show have you brought us to?”
She just laughed.
As I sat in my seat waiting for the show to begin, I noticed that the audience was covered in thick black netting. Literally there were nets in front and over us, with further netting covering the higher tiers of the audience and the actual stage.
“Seriously Arani, what type of show have you brought us too?” I repeated.
“They need the netting there just in case…. For the drones!” She said interpreting my look.
“It’s like we are in an episode of Doctor Who. The attendants are here to lead us into a holding area while we wait for the stage to open and cybermen to appear to convert us.”
“Turn your imagination off.”
“But you think about it, it would be the perfect way to do it. They have lured us into a netted area and told us to turn our phones off…. Not that mine has any signal in here anyway…. See that’s confirmed it, what type of show have you brought us too?”
“Turn your mind off! What did you think you were coming to?”
“I don’t know, I didn’t open the link you sent me.”
The show began by the stage opening up at the centre, with the horizontal wooden doors exiting upwards and downwards, but alas there were no cybermen standing behind, just a band. To be more precise it was John Cale and Liam Young’s LOOP>>60Hz: Transmissions from The Drone Orchestra.
The performance was described by Cale himself as a ‘Drone: a bleak tapestry of unholy noises, searing into the listeners ears and – with any luck – transporting them to a place they’ll not want to leave for long while’. If you had never seen a performance by this team before, it wouldn’t take you long to realise that these individuals were multi-skilled instrument players, where several of them began with a guitar, for example, and then moved on to something else.
Accompanied by their laptops, the powerful and moving composures featured inaudible vocals which contributed to the darkness of the pieces more. I have seen over the years a lot of musicians try this style in their music but be unsuccessful each time. That was not the case here. The band, digital effects and instruments worked in harmony together and complimented each track.
But wait, there is more.
The drones, when the first soared into the air above our heads (this was a rather large one with florescent tubing coating its exterior), I did comment to Arani:
“You see, now they are stealing our secret thoughts with the distraction of music,”
To which she replied;
“Switch off your imagination”.
Unfortunately as the music continued and a variation of different drones took flight, it just made my imagination go into overdrive. However this is a good thing, for only true artists can inspire the creativity of others.
For just over two and a half hours we sat through what could only be described as musical genius. It may not have been for everyone but no one could deny that the compilation of digital music, and drones was an act of bravery – especially as they were hovering over the audience and let’s face it the UK is renowned for its health and safety. In fact, Cale actually commented when leaving the stage “Thank you – and no casualties”.
So what was the reason for the drones?
The conclusion is based on musical frequencies and how the technology has been structured into the performance to enhance the melodies. Not only that but they look quite cool too, particular the one with feathers, and from a practical point of view (though this may have been accidental), the fans elevating the machines provided an amazing cooling method for the audience below, which I was really happy about.
Described on the Barbican’s event listing as ‘unusual tunings and unorthodox audio delivery. Liam Young’s collection of drones escape their associations with surveillance and the military, becoming instead choreographed, disembodied instruments which take flight in the auditorium to create a profoundly immersive live music performance’.
Overall, this was a fantastic performance, and one I would happily see again. Good job chaps!