BY MARK BOSCH, LEAD CRITIC
pop+up ii
lost+sound
Archies, Jubilee Park, 25 May
Earlier this year, I had the pleasure of seeing lost+sound’s first pop-up of 2019 as simply an audience member, sans my usual tweedy critic persona. But now I’m back to the difficult task of covering an event which, just like last October’s, spilled over with things to hear, see, feel, discuss. More than ever, I cannot trust myself to be sufficiently thorough nor sufficiently selective in covering this carefully curated pop-up. I think best practice here is to keep it short and sweet, and try to get you to just trust me.
Saturday 25’s pop-up took place at Archies, a very small space — doubling as a printing press — squeezed under one of the arches of the Jubilee Park viaduct. I want to tell you that lost+sound is a hidden jewel in Sydney’s new music scene, but there was nothing but standing room left when the doors shut. My hope is that lost+sound’s growing audience demands bigger spaces. I felt a little claustrophobic at Archies, squeezed for almost two-and-a-half hours between the lively little artworks of Huimin Li on display, and an enormous, slumbering printing press beneath a tarp. Thankfully, there was the usual cheese and wine and brief intervals for fresh air between sets to soothe the nerves. There was also another of composer Alexis Weaver’s headphone installations to experience, this time in a cosily appointed tent just outside the door, and featuring beautifully blended field recordings made during her residency at Bundanon by the Shoalhaven River on New South Wales’ South Coast.
Then there was the panoply of instruments and styles that made up the four main sets. The opening duo, dnka + zil, played 16 tasty miniatures featuring accordion and fretted strings, each its own curious, subtle soundworld, usually hinging on a single idea, and each named on a teeny program insert after everything from pickles to matryoshki. The last was a maybe-10-second tango evoking two pairs of left feet, ending on a minor second in hilariously good taste.
Then came Hannah Kim and Oscar Smith, who brought the post-minimalist thread purlwise with their combination of Korean and Balinese soundworlds. The pair had great chemistry, and the racket they caused on bonang and janggu was really taut and enjoyable. Hannah would double-dip, returning to perform alongside the exceptional Chloe Kim on drums for the final set, a similarly clamorous but completely captivating affair. With absolutely every respect payable to the other performers, Hannah was indisputably the star of the show.
But the most emotive moment of the night would be Emma Harlock’s solo set featuring live processed bass guitar and pre-recorded electronics. The only non-Sydney Conservatorium of Music graduate on the program, and fellow Western Sydneysider, prefaced her performance with a brief mention of its subject matter, the climate crisis; the political dimensions of which her sound and stage presence spoke to with an uneasy and truly beautiful ambivalence. Her sampling of speeches from Greta Thunberg and David Attenborough among others was tasteful and well-worked, and I think there’s real potential here for sharing the words of climate leaders beyond the mainstream, too.
I loved every minute of lost+sound’s second pop-up of 2019, but there were probably too many minutes to love. By the end of the night, I was sonically stuffed. lost+sound always gives you far, far more than your money’s worth, and that’s one of the many reasons it continues to be perhaps my favourite new music series in Sydney right now.
Image supplied.
