Drumming: working the walls

Andrew Kettle

This is the sold-out, one-show-only Synergy in Steve Reich’s Drumming. Twelve musicians oscillate back and forth between the instruments. Yet I can’t help thinking that the most notable performer is the Powerhouse Theatre itself.

The stage arrangement consists of 3 marimbas in a star pattern to the left, a central vertical line of 4 bongo drums, a zig-zag of 3 glockenspiels to the right, a platform at the back for 2 vocalists and a piccolo, and in the wings to either side an arrangement of 4 chairs from which the musicians rotate during the performance. The arrangement of the marimbas and, to a lesser extent, the glockenspiels unfortunately requires some musicians to have their backs to the audience–we can’t witness their playing. The lack of sheet music, except for the piccolo, is notable. The lighting is simple, 4 areas flood and fade and there’s an abrupt blackout at the end.

In a live performance of Drumming the listener is able to see the music and pick out some of its innumerable patterns, strengthened by constant visual association with particular players and direct identification of sounds with their instruments. The effect is of your ears diving through many levels of sonic awareness. It was disappointing then to have the disembodied female voices coming from the loudspeakers placed above the stage. Even the unamplified piccolo carried its shrill voice through the space.

While critical comments have been made about the acoustic qualities of the Powerhouse venues, it was the reverberation from the backdrop of a partially demolished brick wall and sides of graffiti-coated concrete that truly enhanced the performance. On numerous occasions the reverberation was an enriching distraction. Each instrument had its particular reflective character, the marimba, the strongest, creating subtle standing waves. It would have been thrilling if this performance had been held in the carriageway at Metro Arts or the pedestrian subway under central train station where the echo could be enhanced.

Synergy became a time compressor. It sped without pause through the work’s 4 parts from the entry of the bongos, through to marimba and glockenspiel sections and the morphing of the 3 instruments in the final section, while the sounds from the female vocalists rose into a whistling, teaming with the piccolo. Synergy’s hands, pink against their dark attire, diving up and down above their instruments, were reminiscent of a flamingo feeding frenzy. Light reflecting from the bongo drums flashed on the wall behind. The smear of blue, green and purple stick ends, and the occasional drum stick collision all added visual life to Drumming.

Synergy formed 3 years after Drumming was composed in 1971. To include the work in a 2001 festival of diverse contemporary works truly plays the musical appreciation field. It’s a bit like a Jackson Pollock, the sensation has nearly faded, yet the work has evolved into a larger historical context. As a key representative of minimalism, Drumming adds an interesting perspective to modern computer compositions, Severed Heads’ Quest for the Oom Pa PA (1991) or Alan Nguyen’s Mean Guy (2000). Purity and simplicity survive in 2001 albeit for 70 minutes in a theatre.

Drumming
Composer Steve Reich
Synergy
Brisbane Powerhouse Centre for the Live Arts
July 23