What’s better than a cold December night spent in the circular confines of the Ceremony Hall of a 110 year old Bohemian Crematorium? What’s better than listening to the invocations, and experiencing the evocations of two world class sound artisans? When one is layered on top of the other the answer can only be… nothing!
The domed, circular space, complete with images and symbols of unknown fraternal and/or patriotic origins acted as more than a “bit player” in this set piece. The room, especially when cloaked in darkness fed off the sonic emanations spawned from the heads and bodies of Stephen O’Malley and François J. Bonnet. All one had to do was scan the upper regions of the hall. The great domed ceiling, fused with the circular array of pillars acted as conduit for the flow of sound. The flow of energy. Thus speaking, the hall was integral and this “duo” was in actuality… a “trio”.
The evening began with a short set by Chicagoan Michael Vallera. With electric guitar and various pedals he told a story with many chapters, many plot lines. But it was a story that seemed to exist only in a vague, hazy, translucent state which occupied a liminal space between concrete images and spectral unknowability. This story had no beginning and no end, because it hasn’t been conceived yet.
How is this possible? Something, somewhere was lurking… yet it never made itself into a clear manifestation of its form. It was shifting, being pulled and tugged in various directions but the appearance of form was never made apparent. This ambiguity was its superpower.
Vallera accomplished something that doesn’t happen very often within my own listening space. He brought forth something that was non-teleological. The creative choice made to show the action of flux was never consummated into revealing its endgame. I can’t say that his sounds of “nothing” wasn’t an aspect of “something” in itself but, what?… and for that matter… why that “something” seemed to be in an (un) operational state remained a mystery. This was a new experience for me. I was unable to imagine anything but the murkiness, the non-clarity, the unreasoned.
It ended with a question mark… and if teleologically speaking that was its purpose, for me (and upon lots of reflection) it succeeded admirably. Chaos before order, confusion before clarity… that’s the ticket! Well done!
And then the lights went out.
Illumination was there in the form of two lighted stalks behind each performer but for the audience participators (initiates?)… darkness.
One large, black draped table covered with devices, two chairs opposite one another, two organic vessels working their own electric guitar, transforming their own sound with the magic tools available to them on the table, one big psychedelic exposure leading to something rather close to the sublime! That about sums it up.
Stephen O’Malley most likely needs no introduction to those reading this so… I’ll just leave it with his most popular cred, Sunn O ))) (and that just scratches the surface). I wasn’t familiar with François J. Bonnet’s CV and when I read beforehand that he is currently the director of the GRM… my “psyched for this show” meter reading, which was already high, became buried all the way to the right… in that red zone. Expectations were met… beyond met! (Bonnet’s “stranger” status will be rectified, post haste starting with both albums this duo has put out and continuing with his Kassel Jaeger incarnation.)
First, the 50 minute performance was (generally) loud. Not to say that it was a single onslaught of Sunn O ))) “loud”, this was a different kind of “loud”. The piece was epic in scope, gargantuan in sheer physical dimensions and (finally) transcendent in its loud and clear messaging. The space was well equipped with sound reinforcement… many large floor speakers augmented by two large speaker trees. Sonically, the place was inundated. I was sitting in the front row and admittedly, I was concerned about being torn asunder. Even though I had ear plugs, I was still starting to sweat about it.
But, let me testify to just how masterful these musicians are in sound sculpting. Like I said, it was a loud show… but not once did I feel any amount of discomfort. In fact, about 25% through the performance I took the plugs out of my ears, they were definitely not needed. O’Malley and Bonnet knew EXACTLY what they were doing. This was not a show of pulverising standing bass waves. This show was nuance demonstrated in exemplary manner. The control and execution of the sonic forms presented was surgically precise. This was body and mind music par excellence. This music was “heard” in my upper chest/sternum area… it was also heard in my teeth… yeah, my teeth were rattling… and goddamn, it felt really good!
The work, the journey began like many journeys, quiet, somewhat pensive. O’Malley molding feedback and subsonic drone below Bonnet’s very well defined, upper register arpeggios. It ebbed and flowed within an electric soup that was detailed and, at the same time, discreet. I began to sense the shade of Manuel Göttsching filling the space above, inhabiting the dome of the ceiling. One particular detail that stood out for me was the usage of what I might mistakenly call over-loud amp sound. This is something that one might call an artifact. Nope… in O’Malley’s and Bonnet’s world this was a building block, and added nuance to the world that was being fabricated. It was a feature in this soundscape… most definitely NOT a bug.
As the trip progressed, the volume grew and then grew some more. Bonnet’s chordings became more “affected”… more electronically alien. Precise notes morphed into metallic, or should I say heavy steel solid spaces. These were not objects but substance… still, it began to fill void space… no boundaries, just everywhere. It was hungry. With this presence came more electronic transformation… and most assuredly more volume.
From the other side of the table, a pagan nearness came into being. O’Malley birthed a sequence of an almost melodic construct that delivered a Celtic vibe of sorts. It was a proud, jubilant thing, a victorious moment… a reckoning with something higher, a justification. This was done on a six stringed instrument called a guitar… and through the wonder of “sonic sorcery”, what was heard was not a guitar but a sound divorced from all others. It was eerie and unimaginable and it snowballed into intensity incarnate. The piece became the music of, and for the Earth and Sky, far from any vestige of the urban. This was magic pulled down from the firmament above, diffused within the dome of the space and dispersed within the Ceremony Hall.
Body sensations were rampant… head images were fast and furious and the psychedelic was everywhere. I last saw O’Malley two years ago diffuse an acousmatic piece called This Is How You Will Disappear (Short words about that experience here.) and, at the time my mind was sufficiently blown. While this gestural performance was much different… I revisited those vibes last night. With the added benefit of the show being aided and abetted by it’s very location, O’Malley and Bonnet were able, through “music as ritual” wipe clean any residual thoughts and/or sensations I may have walked in with, and send this mind into realms beyond dreams.
The SAMMYS Board is inviting Central New York artists to submit their music for the 2024 Syracuse Area Music Awards.The 2024 SAMMYS (Syracuse Area Music Awards) will take place Friday, March 8, at the Palace Theatre in Eastwood. The ceremony will feature musical performances by area artists and awards presented in 12 categories, plus the People’s Choice awards in four categories, the Brian Bourke Award for Best New Artist, Jack O Bocchino Spirit of the Sammys Award, and the Community […]
