Shades of Darkness: Towards a Performative Analysis of Arika's 'Experimental Festival'

The more academic end of post-modernism - as opposed to the bargain version available in mainstream media that is a simple rejection of intrinsic value and historical rigour - is ripe for parody. Arika's decision to change from curating "festivals of experimental music" to "experimental festivals" is conscious of this problem: their programme brochure balances the seriousness of the content (Episode 2 covered the positive potential of nihilism) with a provocative yet elegant aesthetic (clear photographs of ugly actions and a straight-forward prose style explaining the big ideas).

Much of Episode 2 was dedicated to discussion: Ray Brassier chatting with Thomas Metzinger about the possibility that the self is merely a function of subconscious processes; Alexi Kukuljevic and Mark Fisher postulating that capitalism has a great trick of downloading our apparently instinctive beliefs. By the time the music was unveiled on Saturday night, a darkling context had already been weaved. The emotional kick of loud noise, screaming and breaking the rules of musical tradition had been put on notice. Junko's performance isn't just a post-punk howl. It's an expression of a profound philosophical idea. 

Unfortunately, the simple tag of "experimental festival" throws the usual measures of critical response down the toilet. Arika's previous festival, Intal, could be judged on the quality of the acts: that year reknowned recluse Jandek did a surprise set, the one where The Boredoms bust my eardrums, or when Hermann Nitsch wailed on the big organ at Kelvingrove. As Barry Esson admits, there wasn't that much difference bewteen T in the Park and Instal: it was only the sort of bands that were different, not the essential experience. 

The three Episodes this year claim new territory. It's pretty clear what's in the landscape - a bit of Live Art (Dawn Casper's hectic take on assembling identity), some old musical favourites (Keiji Haino getting vocal), relatively informal academic chats, plenty of time between shows and the committment to large ideas (deconstructing the message in the medium for Episode 1, horror in 2 and the whole contemporary anxiety about originality in 3). Less clear is the purpose. It might be to contextualise the art works - Episode 2 could be read as a weekend that makes sense of Keiji Haino sitting on stage and screaming, by suggesting intellectual reasons, comparative artworks and parallel explorations. It might be to give certain ideas a wider audience (come for the Japanese noise, stay for the Marxist dialectic). It might even be a broader attempt to break down the cultural assumptions around the consumption of music. 

Most of these ideas overlap, so that isn't too bad: a more negative consequence is the appearance of essays like this, with their wryly ironic titles and the tiny mind of a critic trying to bring the big ideas down to his level, like a small boy poking a stick at a massive balloon while it soars above him. In terms of critical response, this was "the best" performance I have seen by Haino: while I usually find his guitar routines a load of horrible wank, his Sunday night scream-fest was overwhelmingly frightening and evocative. And while Junko's screaming was not rewarding as a sonic experience - appropriately, it was a little monotonous - her manipulation of the scream (the instinctive response to violence) into a tool for free improvisation became interesting under consideration. Was she making a point about the way that female terror has become entertainment? 

But that only leads back to the performances, and an experimental festival is more than that. I like to think that Arika are all about getting the ideas out there: my own distrust of Marxists notwithstanding, the ideas were fascinating. I am far more fascinated by notions of political control than I was before the festival, and decided to re-investigate Buddhist analysis of the self after hearing Metzinger talk. The rather sulky attitude I have to discussions during the day can be attributed to my own bias against post-show talks, unless I am guiding them. Certainly, Episode 2 was moving towards a festival of ideas. 

If Arika have embraced the post-modern - bravely, given that it easily becomes a joke, especially when it gets into its funky jargon - they retain a lively Marxist passion. Their decision is controversial - although fans of the music from Instal can check out Sound Thought at The Arches - and Scotland has lost one of its most energetic supporters of weird sounds. What Scotland has instead may be more valuable: intellectual provocateurs who integrate hubs of radical analysis within a recognisable format.