19 minute read
Art Special
art special THE ECHO CHAMBER
They may have had a pretty bad press over the last few years but sound artist Hanna Tuulikki is making us think afresh about our bat neighbours. To kick off our art special, Rachel Ashenden fi nds out about echolocation, heterodyning, mimesis and, most importantly, how to put on a bat rave
‘Raving and dance music can offer a space to harness radical hope for the future.’ Glasgow-based artist, musician and vocalist Hanna Tuulikki is talking about Echo In The Dark, a sonic and performance project which culminates in a series of silent raves. Kicking off at Arbroath’s Hospitalfield before touring further afield, participants will dance to the rhythms and frequencies of bat calls.
Sadly, Tuulikki hasn’t joined our interview in her bat-rave costume, which consists of brilliant bat-like prosthetics, neon make-up and a tie-dyed tracksuit. She elaborates, exuberantly communicating her belief that humans must find a way to co-exist ecologically with their mammal kin. Tommy Perman, her musical collaborator for Echo In
The Dark, offers his agreement. ‘Me and Hanna have a shared belief that we are not separate from nature.’ This notion of human-animal hybridity permeates Tuulikki’s beautiful and exploratory work; for instance, in Seals’kin, her film from earlier this year, she uses her body to ruminate on what it might mean to ‘become-with-seal’ by delving into the myths of selkies.
Echo In The Dark has emerged from a series of fruitful encounters and strange synchronicities. In 2020, Hospitalfield teamed up with Tayside Bat Group to hold bat walks at dusk, and also piloted a bat-detector lending library; members of the public could borrow equipment which analysed the sound waves of ultrasonic bat calls as well as revealed which species they had encountered. Recognising the resonances with Tuulikki’s practice, Hospitalfield approached the artist to develop a project on bats and, coincidentally, the idea of focusing on an echolocation dance space was already brewing in her mind.
Deeply invested in the bat-rave world they have created, the pair generously take the time to explain the fundamentals of echolocation to me. Bats emit ultrasonic pulses to build up a picture of their environment when hunting for food, with their sounds too highpitched for most humans to hear. Echo In The Dark uses specialist equipment and a technique called heterodyning which essentially converts bat sounds by pitching them down a few octaves, thereby making them audible to human ears. The process is ‘a hybrid of bat and human ingenuity’, says Perman, who describes the recordings as a kind of ‘portrait of places’, adding, ‘people also do echolocation all the time, but we’re not really aware of it. It’s so instinctive for any
human in a tunnel or a church to make a large sound to hear what kind of echo it makes.’
Mimesis, the imitation of sounds and movements, is a prominent theme within Tuulikki’s research-led, multi-disciplinary practice. During the process of developing Echo In The Dark, Tuulikki was moved to create a rave experience based on how bat echolocation calls sound. ‘Their clicks, their buzzes and rhythms could be mistaken for electronic dance music,’ insists Tuulikki before she takes a moment to credit a vital source of inspiration (the philosopher Timothy Morton) who has written extensively about ecological awareness. Tuulikki reads out a statement from Morton’s work in which they describe how ‘dance music reveals a process of becoming aware . . . of what is called “present” is in fact this pulsating, vibrating, moving without travelling thing, or group of things flowing to their own rhythm.’
The silent bat raves are accompanied by the release of a 7” lathe-cut EP, featuring a new set of dance tracks derived from the echolocation calls and infused with Tuulikki’s mesmerising voice. The EP, which Tuulikki describes as both a ‘visceral’ and an ‘intimate’ way to tune bat sounds, was driven by a community-focused exercise. In collaboration with Hospitalfield, Tuulikki gathered public submissions of echolocation recordings; these contributions include 14 of the 18 bat species in the UK. Morton also appears on the tracks as a special guest.
By the way Tuulikki and Perman feed off each other, it is clear that the silent bat raves are going to be memorable. To create Echo In The Dark, they have wholeheartedly dived into a hybrid bat world, but also left plenty of room for laughter and joy as they joke about What We Do In The Shadows and how they’re unable to say the word ‘bat’ normally anymore.
‘Our hybrid bat world is going to meet a new audience and we don’t know how that interaction will pan out,’ notes Tuulikki. Audience participation will open up a new dimension to Echo In The Dark, where human sounds and movements are not hindered by social constrictions. Through music and technology, Tuulikki seeks to remove the bodily boundaries between human ravers sweating on the ground and winged bats soaring through the sky.
Echo In The Dark, Hospitalfield, Arbroath, Thursday 8–Saturday 10 September.
written in the stars
It took eight years for her plan to reach fruition, but dancer and choreographer Eve Mutso would not be denied. As she co-creates an art-dance-poetry work at Mount Stuart, she tells Kelly Apter that wrapped into this piece are a Greek myth, The Great Bear and some mirrored fl oors for good measure
Eve Mutso was enjoying a cup of tea and a scone when it came to her. The former Scottish Ballet principal spied a feedback form in the café at Mount Stuart, a 19th-century mansion on the Isle Of Bute, and had an idea. ‘I wrote down, “would like to see more dance here”,’ she recalls. ‘I knew full well that they never programme dance; they have a visual-arts programme that has been running for over 20 years, but they never have any dance.’ But choreographer and dancer Mutso fi nally has her wish. And even better, she is the one who’s delivering it.
Created in close collaboration with poet Rhona Warwick Paterson, Pacing The Void will be performed >>
in Mount Stuart’s impressive Marble Hall. Comprising choreography, verse, soundscape and a ceramic art installation, this multi-faceted work was eight years in the planning and several months in the making. Although now back in her native Estonia, Mutso spent many years living in Glasgow while at Scottish Ballet, with trips to the Isle Of Bute a regular respite from the city. So taken was she with Mount Stuart that Mutso became a member, leading to multiple visits and (it turns out) opportunities to get inspired.
‘You go to that island, leave the mainland behind and suddenly your lungs expand, you look up more and your senses open,’ says Mutso, her eyes brightening just at the thought of it. ‘I know the house really well and Rhona began to visit it, so it became like a pilgrimage for art. We started to dig into the archives and had quite a few trips in different seasons, together and alone. I had all this knowledge I’d gathered from the Mount Stuart guides over the years and I told Rhona all the stories I’d heard.’
In a house filled with splendour, there was no shortage of locations for a site-specific work, but the women were particularly drawn to the Marble Hall. Over 80ft tall and decorated with 20 types of marble, the room is the jewel in Mount Stuart’s crown. Look up past the high arches and balconies and you’ll find an incredible ceiling decorated with constellations studded with glass crystals. Mutso and Warwick Paterson had found their spot.
‘I just kept looking up and thinking there’s something there; it was really drawing my attention,’ recalls Mutso. ‘And then a guide told me that the 3rd Marquess Of Bute, who built the house, had planned to have a circular dining table covered in mirrors so his guests didn’t have to look up to see the constellations while they were eating. I just loved that story.’ As a result, Pacing The Void will be performed on a mirrored floor with the audience looking down from the balconies above. We can choose to look up at the constellations, or down at Mutso, and see the stars reflected back at us.
As for the work itself, Mutso was inspired by the Greek myth of Callisto, who is raped by Zeus, transformed into a bear, gives birth, then roams the wilderness for 16 years until her own son tries to hunt her. Eventually, Zeus turns her into the constellation Ursa Major, or ‘The Great Bear’ as it’s commonly known. It’s a lot to fit into a 30-minute work, but Mutso will focus mainly on Callisto’s wilderness years.
‘We wanted to tell a very human story that really touches an audience,’ explains Mutso. ‘So you’ll see a woman who is very grounded but then goes through emotional turmoil: she’s lost her voice, her body, her place in society and her son, so there’s a deep sorrow. And then the dance finishes with the installation; Rhona and I created ceramics from the space between both our palms, had them fired and turned into meteoric black sculptures. To have sound, poetry, the hands and dance all merge together will hopefully enrich Mount Stuart’s visual arts programme. I think the stars have aligned.’
OMOS QUEEN OF
THE CASTLE
OMOS takes the story of a disturbing 16th-century performance at Stirling Castle and responds with a luminous celebration of Black and queer excellence. Lucy Ribchester speaks to pole-dance artist Kheanna Walker about her role in paying homage to a slice of forgotten history
It’s a shocking tale, and doubtless one that’s seldom (if ever) recounted when A Midsummer Night’s Dream crops up on the school curriculum. In 1594, a royal entertainment for James VI was set to take place at Stirling Castle, featuring a lion pulling a chariot. But at the last minute, out of fear for guests’ safety, the lion was removed. It’s thought the incident may have gone on to inspire a joke in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, which was first performed a year later. What the joke fails to mention however, is that replacing the lion pulling the chariot was an unnamed Black man.
‘I was only told about this by Adam [Castle, producer] and Rhys [Hollis, performer] when they sent through the brief of the film,’ says Kheanna
Walker, a pole-dance artist and one quarter of the cast of beguiling art film
OMOS, which takes this degrading story and stares it down with a powerful 20-minute display of Black artistry. Walker had answered an ad looking for artists to audition for the project, coming at a time when she was on ‘a mission to do more for Black culture, the Black community, Black artistry, Black excellence’.
Shocked by the story, she quickly saw how her training as a pole dancer (which Walker says is about ‘beauty, grace, strength and flexibility’) could create a dance that fitted with the essence of this piece. ‘The attitude of my character is very confident, very in control. I was like a mystical fairy, confident in my movement, confident in my charm, like a queen; I was trying to exude a neon queen vibe.’ In the film, Walker wears acid pastel colours and enormous spike-heeled boots as she entwines herself around a huge metal
pole. She’s not trying to blend in with the forest around her but to stand out. ‘It’s like, I am here. I’m taking up space and I’m showing that I’m proud to take up space. I’m not going to just blend in with the foliage. I’m going to actually stick out.’
OMOS was fi lmed mainly in Puck’s Glen in Dunoon, a fertile, misty woodland that teems with elfi sh atmosphere. It starts out with a percussive, electro-rhythmic soundtrack, to which Divine Tasinda performs a sharp, sensual solo of fi erce street dance. Tasinda then strides through the forest to come upon Rhys Hollis, who recites a blistering poem about racism and identity (‘you’ve slaughtered my past and I don’t know how to breathe’). Together they journey deeper, both watching Walker as she commands her pole. The drama is amped up as the trio processes calmly towards the Great Hall of Stirling Castle, the scene of the racist act, to behold . . . well, you’ll have to watch it to fi nd out. But just to say that it’s a glorious, joyous, life-affi rming, surreal treat from opera singer Andrea Baker.
The theme of watching and being watched is strong throughout, and was intended, Walker says, to be a show of solidarity. ‘We’re able to not only share our art, but to experience watching our brothers and sisters.’ It seizes back the gaze from the Great Hall guests of 1594 and uses it to support, to care and above all to show appreciation for the beauty of each other. ‘We’re all from different disciplines, but we’re all able to not only share, but also witness and give support. And also to appreciate the diversity and huge abundance of talent that all of us have, especially as a Black community.’
art for autumn
Rachel Ashenden picks fi ve more seasonal highlights that you should fall for
Norman Gilbert
Norman Gilbert’s tender body of work will be celebrated in the heart of Glasgow’s Southside, where the artist lived, loved and painted for 50 years. A prominent figure in the local community, Gilbert (1926–2019) captured the essence of his neighbours, who regularly frequented his home on Shields Road. Alongside beautifully intimate paintings depicting everyday family life, textiles and ephemera from Gilbert’s studio will also be presented at Tramway to represent the artist’s long and dedicated career. Tramway, Glasgow, Saturday 3 September–Sunday 5 February.
KNITWEAR: Chanel To Westwood
From cocktail sweaters to woollen swimwear, this major exhibition of 20thcentury fashion knitwear is the first of its kind to be presented in Scotland. Featuring over 150 iconic knitwear pieces by the likes of fashion innovators Vivienne Westwood and Julien Macdonald, the influence of art movements such as punk, pop and modernism will be unravelled across the display. Dovecot Studios, Edinburgh, Saturday 15 October–Saturday 11 March.
Katie Schwab
Collective’s City Dome will be transformed into a playground of sorts, taken over by a large-scale installation made by artist Katie Schwab. The Seeing Hands will be interactive, encouraging tactile engagement through layers of textures and touchable surfaces. Influenced by early-mid 20th-century design, Schwab’s vibrant, family-friendly exhibition fosters learning through play. Collective, Edinburgh, Wednesday 19 October–early 2023.
Like A Huge Scotland
The 20th-century Scottish artist Wilhelmina Barns-Graham is the focus of Mark Cousins’ ambitious new artwork. Like A Huge Scotland is an intense visual and surround-sound experience which serves as an elegy for a glacier which is disappearing due to global warming. Coinciding with the release of Cousins’ feature film on Barns-Graham, this unique four-screen display will enlarge details of her glacier paintings to 10,000 times their original size. Fruitmarket, Edinburgh, Saturday 5–Sunday 27 November.
Matthew Arthur Williams
This exhibition debuts a new body of work by Glasgow-based artist Matthew Arthur Williams, marking their first major solo exhibition in a UK institution. Williams’ practice spans visual art and sound, photography and DJing. For many years, Williams’ work has developed through close collaboration with others (including friends, family and peers) to create projects which explore themes of care, love, family, memory, representation and resistance. Dundee Contemporary Arts, Saturday 10 December–Sunday 26 March.
PICTURE: NORMAN GILBERT 1975
PICTURE: SONIA SIEFF
Conor McPherson’s Depression-era musical play has been a huge hit with audiences on both sides of the Atlantic. Kelly Apter meets two of its young Scottish actors and chats with the play’s Tony-winning orchestrator about working with Bob Dylan’s timeless hits
NORTH SOUNDS
The weather is cold, the house ramshackle, its occupants troubled, money is scarce, and there’s no end in sight. Sound like fun? You’d be surprised. What reads like the recipe for an evening of misery is in fact the setting for one of the most uplifting stage shows in recent years. Written and directed by Irish playwright Conor McPherson, Girl From The North Country has met with unanimous approval from audiences in London, on Broadway, and now on its national tour of the UK; and it’s easy to see why.
Set in Duluth, Minnesota, in the winter of 1934 (a particularly biting one at the height of America’s Great Depression), the show’s characters may be steeped in poverty but they’re full of heart. A guesthouse proprietor, his ailing wife, alcoholic son and pregnant teenage daughter form the centrepiece, with guests and itinerant strays passing in and out of their lives. Every one of them has a story to tell, love to share and, best of all, a song to sing.
Which is where the show’s not-so-secret weapon comes in, in the form of music and lyrics by Bob Dylan. But unlike most other pieces of musical theatre that’s gone before it, none of the 19 songs we hear were written for the show nor play any part in driving the narrative along. Many of them aren’t even particularly well known. Aside from ‘Like A Rolling Stone’, ‘Make You Feel My Love’, ‘All Along The Watchtower’, ‘Hurricane’ and ‘Forever Young’, the rest are mostly obscure album tracks. Yet despite Dylan’s lyrics not directly affecting the storyline, each song perfectly conveys a feeling at just the right time.
‘His lyrics are so universal that they instantly tell you everything about a character,’ says Paisley-born Ross Carswell, who plays guesthouse resident Elias Burke. ‘In a traditional musical, the songs are saying “this is what you should think or feel at this plot point”, but I feel like this music affects the audience in a different way. It doesn’t push it in your face, it leaves you to make your mind up. So much of Dylan’s music is really dark and yet uplifting at the same time; it’s a weird combination which you also find in this show as well.’
Both Carswell and fellow cast member Gregor Milne, who plays the angry, booze-soaked son of the guesthouse owner, trained at the Dance School Of Scotland in Glasgow before heading to drama school in London. Remarkably, but deservedly, Girl From The North Country is their first professional engagement since graduating. How do they feel a show set almost 100 years ago, on the other side of the Atlantic, can connect to modern-day British audiences? ‘It’s the idea that you just have to keep going no matter what,’ says Milne. ‘And especially after the last few years we’ve all had during the pandemic, it would have been so easy to give up. But all the characters in the show still keep pushing on and trying to make sense of it all.’
Both Carswell and Milne give their characters a real sense of gravitas as well as packing a punch with their vocal delivery, not just with solos and duets, but as members of a glorious, harmonised ensemble. Thanks, in no small part, go to Simon Hale, the man responsible for orchestrating Dylan’s music, who combined some of his songs into gorgeous mash-ups and arranged the vocal harmonies.
‘The arrangements and medleys are incredible,’ says Milne. ‘The way Simon shifts from song to song, and the atmosphere he creates is really cool. Conor always says the songs are the milk and honey to the vinegar in the scenes; and they are. They’re really uplifting and cathartic.’
Played live by a four-piece band, with additional musical backup from quadruple-threat cast members, the music has an authentic period feel, partly achieved by only using instruments that were actually available in 1934.
‘It was important that visually and sonically I was representing the period of the piece, the Great Depression in America, so anything glossy felt wrong in terms of drama,’ says Hale. ‘I researched acoustic guitars and found one that had a cone inside it to make it sound louder. The violin, double bass and piano are obviously hundreds of years old, and then we chose a harmonium because I discovered that small portable ones would sometimes be carried around by preachers, which also gave us a sense of community and choir.’
Since opening in London in 2017, the show has scooped several awards, including two Oliviers and most recently a Tony Award for Hale’s orchestrations, which he says not only brought a sense of personal pride but is a victory for lo-fi creativity.
‘That was extraordinary,’ says Hale. ‘I’m very proud to be a part of this show, and the fact that it’s been recognised in this way is a great honour. I think using Dylan’s songs undoubtedly helped our cause, because people will have heard them and thought, “oh, I didn’t expect it to be like that” or “it doesn’t sound like that on his album”. But I was delighted not just for me but for the show and the industry. Because it’s just a small acoustic band, with no headphones, no click tracks, no electronics: what you see is what you get. It’s a very real, visceral piece of theatre and for something as raw and folk-based as this to get a Tony Award is just really exciting.’
Girl From The North Country, Theatre Royal, Glasgow, Tuesday 13–Saturday 17 September; Edinburgh Playhouse, Tuesday 18–Saturday 22 October.