Sonica: Luke Fowler and Jean-Luc Guionnet @ CCA

Lit by a single yellow bulb, Luke Fowler and Jean-Luc Guionnet’s live electronic performance is pleasantly devoid of that aesthetic staple of sonic art, blue lighting. The hour-long experimental sound work has no discrete visual element at all. This is in keeping with a concern that also informs Fowler’s films – that you risk reducing the impact of sound when you depict the landscape it comes from. Operating from a station in the centre, Fowler and Guionnet themselves are the imagery on which the seated round of the audience trains its senses. They might be about to DJ – but Fowler’s smart attire, the seats and the early hour say otherwise.

Calling to mind fireworks, the snaps, crackles and pops they produce travel through the space, coming variously from speakers in different corners of the room. At intervals, the sound builds up to a strong beat in 4/4, grinding, grating and cracking like minimal techno more often heard in clubs. The reverb is felt in the metal radiator covers behind the seats.

Distinguishing it from a DJ set is the moderate volume. The packets of earplugs placed thoughtfully on each seat prove to be faintly ridiculous. There is also the deliberate lull midway through the performance, just as everyone has got immersed. The period of quiet and the subsequent slow, tentative build-up are also immersive, maybe too much so – half of the audience is in danger of drifting off.

Though experts in their field, there is a tendency among sonic artists to break sound down to its most basic components. Their work is branded as inherently innovative, but whether or not the sounds are new is often questionable. Fowler’s performance doesn’t sound like nothing you’ve ever heard before, but through bringing an artist primarily of the visual art world into Sonica, it does at least mean sonic art doesn’t always look the same. [Jac Mantle]