Is Frankenstein the first cautionary tale about AI? If so, what does it mean to re-imagine it through the lens of Korean algorave music? The Seoul-based Tacit Group have crafted a new version of an ancient tale. Against a projected backdrop of procedurally generated imagery, a single human performer is joined by two AIs - together they create an unusual sonic experience built live on stage. The work is a triptych, split into three interlocking parts, each one building up the tension as the sole human performer battles for the soul of a very new machine.
The show describes itself as presenting a form of multimedia synaesthesia - which led me to think it would be a mind-bending and eye-melting fusion of colour and sound. Instead, the visuals are close to monochrome which, when combined with the discordant and harsh music, makes for a challenging experience.
Gazaebal, both the director and the performer, has a grand vision. While Mary Shelley's original Frankenstein asks us to consider whether the real monster is the creature or the creator, Gazaebal presents us with a different argument. Do you have a right to control your creations if all they are are mere warped reflections of your personality? Can you meaningfully play games against opponents who are your digital twins?
Sadly, I don't think that comes across in the performance. He sits almost motionless on stage, tapping at a Macbook, illuminated only dimly by its screen. There is very little apparent interaction between man and machines. The visuals are augmented by harsh flashing lights, but it isn't quite enough to liven up the stage.
If you're familiar with the works of London-based Lu Wilson and todepond's pastagang meet ups, you will understand the complexities involved in producing live and experimental music via occasionally taciturn computers. It is fascinating to see code being rewritten and executed in the baroque surroundings of The Coronet Theatre. For those approaching it for the first time, there is very little in the way of explanation or hand-holding.
There is a stark beauty about FrankenTacit. It is a short but concentrated performance which is uncompromising in its vision. The highlight is undoubtedly a music sequencer built out of multiplayer Tetris. As the pieces fall, the loops builds in unusual ways. Each performer struggles to produce a coherent tune to a staccato rhythm. Sadly it is let down by the bland visual and the repetitive electronic squelches.
The performance is preceded by a short presentation about WeSA (We Are Sound Artists) - a Korean incubator for new and innovative artistic practices. It was fascinating to see how well they support the development of artists, new forms of art, and build an audience for both.
After the main show, the audience are invited to watch two different Korean audiovisual works. Up first is The Image of Happiness: The First Scene, which is an eerie and hypnotic piece, full of distorted photos and tortured sound samples. It forms a chilling counterpoint to Frankentacit. The other is the delightful NullPointerException by WYXX. It takes the viewer on a playful and fractal journey through sound and absolutely deserves to have its geometric weirdness seen on the big screen. Both are complex works and complement the live-action piece.
If you're in the mood for a performance which is unusual and occasionally baffling, Frankentacit could satisfy that craving. I think people already familiar with algorithmically generated sound will find it a little pedestrian whereas those unaccustomed to it will find it merely confusing.
Many thanks to The Spy In The Stalls for the ticket.
Pre- and Post-Show
I've never been to The Coronet before. It is a ridiculously gorgeous space. It feels like a an explosion in a Steampunk antique shop. Madly twisting staircases peppered with faded art and perfectly dilapidated technology.
The faded glory of the stage feels fitting, almost like we're back in time witnessing the future being born. Is the peeling paint part of the charm? Perhaps. There's an uncomfortably exhilarating feeling that the whole building could collapse at any moment.
The bar is spacious with plenty of seats. Staff are friendly and you'll be endlessly fascinated by the tchotchkae littering the rooms and corridors.
A perfect spot to unwind and discuss the show you've just seen.
