MATTIN / TAKU UNAMI - PARIS - 14/12/2009

There are two wooden chairs on the stage, each of them bathed in the pool of light of a white spot. Mattin and Taku sit down and quietly look at the audience. As always with those two, no one knows what is coming. Their position resembles the one evoked on the Attention record, a favorite of mine. However, Taku is not holding a guitar, and as a matter of fact, there are no instruments on the stage. I think of what Mattin told me earlier about making 'simple things.' I must admit what they did tonight may be simple in its means, but it's surely quite complex in its implications.

After a while, they start sobbing. It is not clear at first if they are crying or laughing, so the audience sort of takes the easy way out and assumes they must be laughing. They take it lightly and some people are laughing too. However, the sobbing gets more intense, and thay start making the most heart-wrenching crying. I remember thinking they must be reminiscing over sad memories until the tears come to their eyes. The audience starts to feels uneasy. You can really feel it. All the laughing stops. You wouldn't laugh at someone crying in front of you, would you ? What would you do ? To come on stage and comfort them or ask them what is wrong would probaly interrupt the performance. How would they take it ? We will never know, because nobody dared to ask them anything. After all, this is a performance that we are watching. Two men are focusing on their inner darkness enough to make themselves cry in front of an audience, and this audience is paying for it.

The performance works on many levels. Sonically, the voices are no different from instruments. Mattin and Taku's voices are quite different, so I am reminded of two reed players with different tones. Mattin cries like a baby, slowly rising waves, while Taku's body is completely shaken by sobbing, making a more percussive sound in a way. It took me a while to realize that this actually worked as music. My neighbor told me this was better than Phil Minton as far as abstract vocal performance was concerned. Now I don't know about Phil Minton (I sure hate that Toot record though) but this allowed me to take this in as music and realize it was some kind of free music after all. I have read and heard so many people about how Ayler or Coltrane could make their saxophones cry, I guess I was ready to hear some music in this crying tonight.

The effort of concentration is visible upon their faces, until another peal of crying can be brought up. You can't escape the fact that those men are focusing on crying, and this puts the whole idea of sadness at the forefront in the venue.

Mattin has tears in his eyes, but I think this is mostly because of the white spot directed at him. Maybe the absence of real abundant tears shows the artificiality of the performance to some extent, but it doesn't undermine the fact that the sound comes from the feelings they can bring up and arouse within the audience. To some extent, the sound of crying is severed from the act. I'm sure they are not so sad, or at least not for the same reasons and not to the point of crying so much, but the sounds they produce communicates a feeling even though it is decontextualized. I am very impressed by the amount of ideas they brought up with, well, nothing but ideas.

This lasts for an hour. Some people have left, others seem devastated by sadness. There is even one guy who is crying himself. At the back of the venue, a couple of girls are giggling nervously, and I can't help but think that they are trying to get rid of this strange feeling they got.

What would you do if you saw somebody crying in the metro ? Either you'd comfort them, or you'd ignore them. Here this is an impossible alternative. No one will walk on stage, and everybody paid to see this, making for a very uncomfortable but questioning situation.

After an hour, I start clapping (as Mattin and Taku had instructed me to do) soon followed by the rest of the audience. The end. Later on at the bar I can hear Mattin explaining to someone that he had asked me to clap after an hour, because the guy thought it was so rude of me to interrupt this crying !
Very very strong performance.

many thanks for this fascinating review, Julien. Wish I could have been there!

About ten years ago I played at a kind of bohemian farm "festival" thing in the Columbia River gorge (on the Washington side, I think?) with JP Jenkins and Bryan Eubanks. I think Seth Nehil did a set too (maybe just played a recording of a composed piece?). I remember clearly, though, a guy I never heard of before or since, who played a bit of a synth drone in the middle of a big outdoor circle, who got increasingly involved in his set and spent the last 15 min. or so just weeping. It was pretty affecting. I wonder what it would be like in a more "traditional" performance situation with well-known performers known for their unorthodox performances.

I left ten minutes before the end, when the bloke from the restaurant upstairs came down with two pizzas. Were those for Mattin and Unami? I had fond visions of someone walking on stage with them to end the performance. Yes, well, you and Jacques Oger enjoyed this a lot more than I did, Julien, is all I can say. I didn't find it particularly interesting either musically or socially, but, hey, I'm just a cynical old thug who prefers music to concepts. But as Mattin is more interested in the latter these days I guess we'll get more shows like this. What did he do the following night at La Société des Curiosités, by the way?
I preferred the Borbetomagus gig on Saturday. Ears still ringing.

About ten years ago I played at a kind of bohemian farm "festival" thing in the Columbia River gorge (on the Washington side, I think?) with JP Jenkins and Bryan Eubanks. I think Seth Nehil did a set too (maybe just played a recording of a composed piece?). I remember clearly, though, a guy I never heard of before or since, who played a bit of a synth drone in the middle of a big outdoor circle, who got increasingly involved in his set and spent the last 15 min. or so just weeping. It was pretty affecting. I wonder what it would be like in a more "traditional" performance situation with well-known performers known for their unorthodox performances.

this band jerome's dream, who i guess are sort of a post-hardcore/screamo touchstone, played a lot when i was in college, and i think the singer cried a few times, though that was in a more straightforwardly "emo" way.

-j.

Totally off topic, but I LOVED Jerome's Dream. LOVED.

What did he do the following night at La Société des Curiosités, by the way?

Deafening silence from Skrobek here. He must be doing something unspeakable to his collection of signed Boulez photographs.. would be nice to hear from you here too, Jacques.

[Skrobek] must be doing something unspeakable to his collection of signed Boulez photographs.. would be nice to hear from you here too, Jacques.

At the Société de Curiosité Mattin asked for the audience's Attention. A debate ensued about what would people do if someone started screaming like this in the metro. The honest participants agreed they would look away, while ohers pretended they would ask what the matter was. Somehow, the talk moved on to the concept of 'reductionist sex', which put an end to the discussion rather quickly.

On the 17th he played an unanounced gig at the Short But Fat fest. Modulated whitenoise and vocals, kinda like Whitehouse in a more confessional way. Yet the audience felt the confrontational aspect of it, my neighbours, expecting harsh noise extravaganza, were quite surprised (especially as Mattin played first and with an attitude very remote from the kind of self-confidence in joyful noise expressed that night). It was strong.

kinda like Whitehouse in a more confessional way

Nice photo, Julien - I know what I'll give you for your Christmas present now..

...
Deafening silence from Skrobek here. He must be doing something unspeakable to his collection of signed Boulez photographs.. would be nice to hear from you here too, Jacques.

Well, I enjoyed this gig quite a lot.

For me, it was mainly about improvising with two crying voices. It was something strongly related to traditional ways of improvising music. OK, there was something about performance too, but it was not the most important for me. Their gig was very musical, in a classical way of making music.
They took a lot of risks since they are not vocalists/singers. And the performance lasted 60 mn. They probably were exhausted. Taku told me that he suffered inside his lungs.... Mentally, you need to be a strong improviser to achieve this kind of challenge: doing something you are not used to, during a long piece of time.
The sounds were OK. The structure of the piece - with intense silences - was OK too.

DADA revival ?

DADA revival ?

No, not at all (for me).
Only music, focus on improvisation, 60 minutes, rhythm/interaction/silence.

DADA revival ?

No, not at all (for me).
Only music, focus on improvisation, 60 minutes, rhythm/interaction/silence.

only? I don't think I would have been able to treat such a performance so abstractly. It almost sounds as if it didn't matter to you that they were crying.

Well, were they crying or pretending to cry? I honestly couldn't tell - and assume that was part of Mattin's conceit for the performance: if you're on an instrument it's pretty clear whether you're either playing it or not; you can't pretend to play, or pretend to sing or pretend to speak - you're either doing it or you aren't. But you can pretend to cry. Children do it very well. So that calls into question the notion of performance itself, the idea of sincerity (I was reminded of Leonard Bernstein's thoughts on the subject in The Unanswered Question, regarding Stravinsky's Oedipus Rex), technique, virtuosity, even. As an event designed to provoke reflection and stimulate debate, I'd say this concert was pretty successful. But, like his disc with Unami, Attention, I found the music far less interesting than the concept. Which I take to be in line with Mattin's current philosophy as expressed in my interview with him.

it may be that they were "really" crying at some points, but my point was just that oger's interpretation, which apparently disregards the social meaning of the act of crying, is surprising. I don't mean to get all hoidy toidy about 'social meaning': I just mean that when people cry, it invokes sadness, whereas "rhythm/interaction/silence" are formal concerns.

I guess what I'm wondering at is how crying might make engaging with the performance on a formal-musical level almost like denying the "human drama" (or whatever you want to call it - signifying emotion). Denying is the wrong word, it's just that formal concerns seem highly rarefied in comparison to human emotion, which is so basic.

Not that this conflict is necessarily interesting to watch/hear.

Anyway, this performance seems very much in line with mattin's program of politicizing his music. Just musing now, but I imagine that this work could be extended to something that functions simultaneously as drama and music. Making it function successfully is, of course, the trick.

They were pretending to cry.
Instrument = voice (they are not experts on that one, a difference with... Phil Minton)
I don't think that it was an event to provoke debate (as does Mattin sometimes)
Of course, we can make a link between their "act of crying" and "sadness",
But it was not the most important for me.

I wish some people had gone up onto stage and tried to assuage their crying. I would think of it as people blurring the lines between performers and viewers/audience. I get the feeling Mattin would have accepted that. Perhaps he even hoped for it.

I'm not being sarcastic either.

I wish some people had gone up onto stage

Easier said than done. There's always that invisible barrier between the stage (such as it was in this case, more like the end of the cellar room) and the public. When Mattin, or anyone else, actively involves the audience by stopping the show and inviting audience participation, maybe. But most of the time the stage is out of bounds to non-performers. I can only think of two occasions in my life where I've actually seen the stage space "invaded".

and tried to assuage their crying.

Assuming of course you actually thought they were crying, for real.

I would think of it as people blurring the lines between performers and viewers/audience. I get the feeling Mattin would have accepted that.

Yes, I agree - it would have been interesting to see how they would have reacted. Anyway, Mattin's next gig in town is with Tim Goldie in February. I rather doubt they'll be crying, somehow..

I wish some people had gone up onto stage

Easier said than done. There's always that invisible barrier between the stage (such as it was in this case, more like the end of the cellar room) and the public. When Mattin, or anyone else, actively involves the audience by stopping the show and inviting audience participation, maybe. But most of the time the stage is out of bounds to non-performers. I can only think of two occasions in my life where I've actually seen the stage space "invaded".

I guess I just thought that since Mattin challenges audiences, perhaps the audience could break out of the mold of just sitting there. But yes, there is that dichotomy of audience/performer.

and tried to assuage their crying.

Assuming of course you actually thought they were crying, for real.

Yeah, that's true. But if they fake crying, maybe the audience could fake their part in the role as well.

I wish some people had gone up onto stage

Easier said than done. There's always that invisible barrier between the stage (such as it was in this case, more like the end of the cellar room) and the public. When Mattin, or anyone else, actively involves the audience by stopping the show and inviting audience participation, maybe. But most of the time the stage is out of bounds to non-performers. I can only think of two occasions in my life where I've actually seen the stage space "invaded".

Huh. Going to a lot of hardcore punk shows when I was growing up, I found that the stage would be constantly invaded, co-opted, whatever, and it wasn't simply the standard stage diving, but often it was an actual take-over of the stage; the song became not just a dramatic reenactment of the anger or frustration inherent in its presentation (scream, blast beat, "anti-state") but an actual novel and creative act. There was a band called Catharsis that would sometimes give their instruments to the crowd mid-way through a set or song and become part of the audience. This wasn't done as much with provocation in mind as it was done as a joyful response and communication -- of that much lauded break between the observer and the observed... It was a reality created in the the thrill of the moment and event, where this dichotomy of performer and audience didn't exist. It was almost always a spontaneous action, which is something I don't really get the feeling from when reading about this event(and others) by Mattin and Unami. Because these performances rarely seems to be about the audience, but more about what Mattin and Unami think the audience is or should be in order for them to achieve a certain artistic result or political/philosophical project (dubious or not). I don't know, but there's a reek of preciousness mixed with patronizing judgement I get from this that doesn't seem to be about exposing the unreality of the act as much as a punishement for being the audience to it. And certainly it easy to say there is no right or wrong, that any action an audience can take to this event is as probable or true as any other, but the problem with any thing that you are invited to come and see, that is advertised or projected as an event creates an "audience," creates a group willing to be the observers. I don't really understand these kind of events as they limit the scope of interpretation to a crowd that already knows what they're in for if not in the complete details then the general sentiment, leading to a point where they pay to be put in a situation where something as predictable and/or hackneyed as a couple of dudes pretending to cry can be construed as a statement on modern capitalism's dehumanizing effects on society and interaction-- isn't this at least an expected display? Ultimately, it's hard not to think that Mattin and Unami create the problem they're trying to expose. I keep thinking about Hakim Bey's "Poetic Terrorism" but with a fee at the door. Oh well.