Women from Space
Women from Space
March 8-10
Toronto, Canada
Story by Ken Waxman
Photos by Susan O’Connor
Now in its sixth Earth year, the distaff extraterrestrials featured at Toronto’s annual Women From Space (WFS) festival are ranging even further into the cosmos to discover novel modes of expression. Docked for three days at 918 Bathurst, the city’s midtown arts space, not only did WFS feature a distinctive interstellar collection of sounds, but also movement, visual effects and optical phenomena.
One of the groups to meld electronic and acoustic elements was MOCH, featured on the festival’s second evening. Consisting of Mexican-American vibraphone player Patricia Brennan and Brooklyn-based DJ Arktureye, textures bounced among the wows and tingling respirations of voltage oscillations, hard drum pops, idiophone shuffles and shakes from the DJ, and the slick pivots from percussive textures to melodic expositions from the vibist.
Mostly using four mallets, with which she sometimes sourced individual tones from each, Brennan’s strategies took her from matching the drummer’s nerve beat groove with rhythmic impetus on the metal bats or amplifying drum-top pitter patter with splayed echoing tones.
Holding fast to slivers of linear advancement with studied motor and widening vibraphone patterning, Brennan also created unexpected textures by snaking first one then two violin bows between individual aluminum bars. Throughout, the two responded to each other’s distinctive beats or groove extensions whether produced from bar scratches or pummeling, or in the DJ’s case gong and snare reverberations. DJ Arktureye’s expressive and climactic press roll eventually marked their finale.
A Toronto-based duo which built improvisation from more overt electronic live processing and extended trumpet techniques, BLOOP opened WFS on Friday night.
With Mike Smith manipulating the switches and dials, and Lina Allemano expressing herself on trumpet the two operated as full partners. That meant the voltage wave forms not only constantly let crackles and buzzes hang in the air as an underlying ostinato, but also frequently used in-the-moment processing to mirror brass forays. As a result, the trumpeter could at points play duets with herself.
Not that she needed a doppelgänger. Constantly inventive, Allemano projected screaming triplets with the same finesse she brought to hissing solid horizontal air through her horn.
Adding the shaking of miniature temple bells and other small instruments as rhythmic back-up, she also created intense and original textures by pressing the trumpet’s bell against a metal plate or right onto the mic, and derived rasps by vibrating her bell within a cookie tin. She also created brass ripples and smears by manipulating rubber and aluminum mutes.
A far different variation on percussion and electronic timbres was part of the appeal of a mid-evening set on the final day of WFS when Haitian-American Val Jeanty used a stripped-down drum kit plus the processed sounds of various instruments and verbal declarations during a protracted improvisation with local dancer Nickeshia Garrick.
With the synthesized tones creating an on-and-off funk beat, Jeanty’s forays onto the kit replicated expected slaps and pops, but also took in rhythms that could have come from an African hand drum. Turntable tone splatters and whooshes, grand piano-like pacing and electric keyboard-like smears were also heard. Among the phrases expressed by the sampled voices were “travel through space”, “there is a Black Messiah coming” and a celebration of the “Black Goddess of Venus.” Mixed among the statements was Jeanty’s sophisticated processing that flanged, cut off and elaborated on phrases to emphasize their meaning.
Meanwhile Garrick, who is co-founder of the CinnaMoon Collective, was ranging across the stage sometimes upright, but just as likely to be gyrating on one leg or on all fours, rolling on the ground, bouncing on her toes or flexing one leg straight out as she stood on the other.
With her loose-fitting garment allowing her extraordinary freedom of movement, she moved in split seconds from bunny hops to windmill arms and from a scarecrow pose to sliding across the stage floor with unforced ease. All the while, her movements interacted with and reflected Jeanty’s instrumental and vocal currents and vice versa. As spectacular as the performance was, there was a point at which a logical stopping point was reached, yet the set continued for several more minutes.
Despite its overall musical mastery there was a hint of division in WFS’ authoritative concluding set Sunday evening. Featuring American alto saxophonist Matana Roberts, local drummer Germaine Liu and New Brunswick-based Nicole Rampersaud playing trumpets and electronics, the distance was hinted at in stage placement with the saxophonist on the extreme left, the trumpeter and her table of extensions on the extreme right, and the drummer at the back of the stage. Moving through Blues inflections and bellicose reed bites, at points Roberts connected with Rampersaud’s portamento flights or half-valve emphasis while Liu used cross-arm emphasis, drum shakes and cymbal crashes to knit together instrumental strands. But just as often, each – especially Roberts – pivoted to solo sections.
Alone and as part of the trio, Liu’s gentle triangle pings, hand slaps, stick resonation against a metal bowl and positioned simple pops with a soft mallet added to the sonic canvas, as did samples and electronic processing. Meanwhile, Rampersaud’s aviary trills or half-valve forays served to counter Roberts’ squirting doits or tongue stops. Otherwise the trumpeter’s hand-muted flutters, flatulent growls and bright bugling defined her individuality. As for Roberts, when she wasn’t overblowing tones, projecting smears or emphasizing trills, she literally pounded her chest, yelped and by the finale, vocalized a rambling discourse on racism, discrimination and freedom.
Rampersaud was also one of the six musicians who contributed original arrangements to the band of 18 improvisers who in splendid fashion ended the WFS’s opening night’s performances.
Entitled Women From Space Big Bang! Plays Björk, the arrangements by Jessica Ackerley, Mingjia Chen, Lieke Van Der oor, Heather Saumer and Rampersaud relied on the talents of four singer/instrumentalists with their own interpretations of the Icelandic songwriter’s lyrics, but left plenty of space for instrumental virtuosity. Additionally the performance was illuminated by a psychedelic light show from Liquid Crystal Display’s gadgets, and programmed bending and twisting prisms that flickered on the stage backdrop.
The outstanding part of the set was how Rock beats were integrated into orchestral discipline. This involved intersecting reed, brass, electronics strings and percussion sections, with saxophone vamps, anchored by Bea Labikova’s baritone saxophone, aggressive brass harmonies including Saumer’s slippery trombone slides, and ringing vibraphone tones from Racha Moukalled and Yang Chen. With brief solos parcelled out to nearly all the members, the experiment deserved to be repeated at greater length and with a more varied repertoire.
Another musician who made extensive use of projections was harpist Grace Scheele, who opened Saturday night’s show.
Including public domain film footage of the preparation and completion of the Apollo 11 space launch that was projected on all of the building’s available surfaces, her interactive response to the rocket-countdown visuals included synthesized wave forms and washes projected from electronics as well as buzzes, strums and spiccato strokes from the pedal harp.
Earlier Scheele mixed these sound impulses with liquid tremolos and melodic asides from the harp. Notable as ambient music, there were times when the program barely escaped simply resembling a soundtrack.
With no visual backdrop, American bassist/singer Mali Obomsawin, who is also a community organizer, emphasized her part-First Nation background when her band closed Saturday night’s performance. Featuring bass clarinetist/alto saxophonist Allison Burik and drummer Mili Hong from Montreal, plus American guitarist Magdalena Abrego, the quartet seemed more attuned that night to instrumental improvisation than advocating indigenous rights.
While Obomsawin’s vocal hums and chants, sometimes sung in an Aboriginal language touched on respect for nature and native traditions, they shared equal space with her arco and pizzicato pulls and pacing. The drummer’s insistent clip-clops provided a consistent rhythmic backing, while the guitarist’s string clangs and pedal-pushed loops brought in Rock and country influences. Burik’s chalumeau-register clarinet riffs intersected with Obomsawin’s low-pitched bass work, while the saxophonist’s high-pitched reed smears introduced a Free Jazz sensibility to the set.
While Obomsawin’s vocal hums and chants, sometimes sung in an Aboriginal language touched on respect for nature and native traditions, they shared equal space with her arco and pizzicato pulls and pacing. The drummer’s insistent clip-clops provided a consistent rhythmic backing, while the guitarist’s string clangs and pedal-pushed loops brought in Rock and country influences. Burik’s chalumeau-register clarinet riffs intersected with Obomsawin’s low-pitched bass work, while the saxophonist’s high-pitched reed smears introduced a Free Jazz sensibility to the set.
As Women From Space evolves as a festival, it keeps adding more experimental elements which incline its program in many novel and exciting angles. With its quality now established it’s likely more unexpected musical situations will be explored. After all, space itself is infinite and ever-changing.
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