Tim Hecker & Chihei Hatakeyama at Cafe OTO (Review)

Last night, a warm, sticky May evening descended on East London. Dalston, once a community filled with working men’s clubs, an area tarnished by a high rate in gun crime but now a rapidly developing base for young hipsters and creative outlets welcomed a night of ambient wizardry.

Cafe Oto, a delightful home to many fine performances of live music played the host as crowds began to swarm into the venue shortly after its doors had opened. Queues formed as chancers pinned their hopes on last minute tickets, efficient guests who had pre-booked, discussed the ease of the new overground transport network, while others queued for refreshments keen to quench their thirst as the humidity levels rose. Eventually all of this noise died down as the members of the sold out venue congregated to witness the evening’s events.

Taking to the traditional stage area within the cafe, was Chihei Hatakeyama, the Tokyo based sound artist. Equipped with two laptops and a host of electrical tools, this set marked his first live performance in the UK. Opening with smooth, soothing, fuzzy drones it was clear his music was built to compliment the evening’s high temperature. Layers of sounds developed throughout the set, creating a spiral like tapestry. Occasional bursts of bass rattled throughout the venue with the natural reverberations unintentionally supporting the live performance. As this slow burning concoction developed, sonic bursts drifted into the main instrumentation producing an effervescent effect like an auditory head rush. Suddenly, intermittent crashes of noise appeared disrupting the dreamy qualities of the music’s opening. The set developed into a more intense brew of noisy, electronic processes as hauntingly dark and ominous hums, chimes, rattles and hisses circulated the cafe. Much like a journey through the night, the music conveyed different states of mind ranging from the docile to the lucid and back again. As the chaos diminished, a bright, dizzy beacon of light broke through the noise, before fading to silence. The resulting ambience of the audience murmurs was a strange comedown from such a powerful voyage.

A short break was enough time for people to charge their glasses and spin themselves round to the opposite side of the room as Tim Hecker, the second sound artist of the night took centre stage. At his disposal lay a variety of audio dials, electronic equipment, a laptop and a Nord keyboard. There was no respite. An extremely loud, unsettling wave of sound took over the whole venue. Some audience members stood by speakers allowing the reverberations to travel through their bodies. Uncompromising sound processes eventually were balanced with the distorted resonance of the Nord keys, while a foggy gas of electronic sound fuzzed in the background. Moving with this living, breathing underbelly of vibrations were shards of overwhelming brightness that pierced into the music. Pockets of audience members sat with heads bowed, others stared into the distance, each and everyone finding their point of focus to meditate on the artistry at work. Occasionally the overriding bass broke down like a clearing between passing clouds. A bright interlude of relative silence was pushed along by the gasses of underlying drones before a drawn out murky humming broke through the heat of the night to conclude the set.

Once again the breakaway from such a riveting, engulfing and intense piece of musicianship was hard to overcome. The audience, filled with many fellow musicians, almost like an ode to an early 20th century Viennese cafe housing literary contemporaries, was left to swelter as the intensity left from the music blended seamlessly into the night’s uncomfortable heat. Yet no sweat stains bore notice, for the only remnants of the evening were the embedded sounds engrained in the crowds minds from a night of ambient excellence. – Review by Josh Atkin for Fluid Radio

www.myspace.com/rainbowbloodx
www.myspace.com/chiheihatakeyama
www.cafeoto.co.uk