Electronic Arts @291 [partial review]

[Marc Day <mday@xxxxxxxxxxxx>]

dj Dr. Struckoff made me feel uncomfortable as
soon as i got there, which was an unexpected boon
that the four foot wide spinning glitterball was
having little effect in dissuading. some girl
to my right keeps staring - helping my wished-for
lack of comfort.  she is being completely ignored
by her partner who has his head stuck into some
pamphlet or other.  I look at their big comfy
sofa with envy, there's nothing like a good sofa
for being uncomfortable in.

After an incredible debacle, with our food being
constantly given to other people, Catherine and I
enter the main gallery.  It is dark, the white
damping sheets rising to the converted churches
clerestory windows - creating an evanescent glow.
We sit on the floor, Catherine behind me with her
legs cradling me, ringed by many speakers on stands.
The immersive qualities of the clear noise where
intense with some later works dopplering like bats
in a storm, and some orgasmic neverending crashes
of volume that left me gripping Catherine's hand.

We then entered what was the highpoint for me -
Thomas Gardner's - Same Old Sheet.  A film was being
projected into a corner from a very low angle on the
left side, the visual confusion about my sense of
'corner' was quite complete - with some scenes being
recorded flat on they would pop maddeningly
between 'in' and 'out' of the corner. Interjecting
between projector and wall was a misshape of metal
hung dejectedly and randomly with a chunk taken out
of it.  Hidden behind this sheet was a big speaker
making a deep thunderous moan which would then set
the sheet shimmering as if a wind's other half.  The
sense of wind, of particles moving through pneuma
was superb, here was sound and image being used
together to fill the gaps between both media's
failings.  This was a sculpture of air.  Catherine
had been lucky to squeeze onto the fat white
leather couch, but I was glad of the extra distance
I was then forced to take from the sheet - for it
gave this air an opportunity to dance before me.

We get a bit bored and move into the next room.

Squares of vivid blue dusk shimmer down at me
as we sit within a volume of red light twenty
feet below.  The light from a large man's laptop
illuminates his face and an unitelligible mess
of cables and a contact mic upon which he taps
and smacks objects I don't leave my eyes open
long enough to see, the speaker gives me what
he wants me to have - not this.  In my own dark
I let his clever clickings and manipulations take
light's place.  EH-TEA-AND-TEA-TECH-NOH-LOH-GEE /
I DID THAT DIDN'T I ? being cleverly woven into
each others harsh stacatto syllables.

A couple are on the sofa at the end, facing this
clicking man generating echoes.  Catherine hands
me the beer we are sharing commenting on how this
couple always seem to have the best seat - for it
was them that had been sitting on THAT sofa in the bar,
quite separate from each other, one indulging the
others unwieldy taste in sonic acceptance?  But
isn't unwieldy what it's all about? isn't this
challenge what we all want? Let them have easy.

More of this please London.