Dissection Maps – Old Saw
Old Saw
Dissection Maps
EP
Experimental
Louis Pelingen
November 30, 2024
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In the shallow bowels of Dream Bag Jaguar Shoes, a canine-humanoid is slapped multiple times by sheets of paper and then left to search through the sharpie-covered tea leaves to ascertain the next act at queer non-profit collective Tides’ night. The fates would have it that Livvy Lynch is to take to the stage.
A sound artist who works mostly in the medium of theatre, film and radio, Livvy begins the set with something that’s ominous ring no doubt filled the surrounding streets of London a little less than 100 years ago. Air raid sirens, quiet at first, begin to clamber over each other in a disconcerting tapestry, a barberpole phaser further enriching the swirling torrent. From there, the artist fluidly moves into a striking vocal moment. What feels like both an affirmation of the passing of a loved one and a stoic attempt to resurrect them. Livvy’s words ring around the basement space. ‘Too far… for this life, too far… for this flesh’.
Her understanding of atmosphere is informed by more hushed spaces, the theatre and experimental fringes are less afraid of quiet and stillness than club settings. Through work on projects such as solo clowning show MOONFACE in celebrated theatrical spaces like Camden Peoples' Theatre, Livvy imbues her set with a cultivated sense of patience. She gives herself time with each repetition of the words, the gravitas of the chant increasing as her voice weaves gracefully past muddy leftfield electronic chords.
Somehow this murky atmosphere finds a way to its feet, a brightening of the sound palette allowing the artist to fire off SOPHIE-esque sampled stabs and dazzlingly clean euphoric sound like shards of crystal being mulched together. The set taken as a whole is bewildering in itself due to the dynamic range of sounds packed in, but she moves purposefully through it as if it were a theatrical performance moving from scene to scene.
Vocal additions puncture proceedings at choice moments. The aforementioned funereal lament is met with its polar opposite as interjection of the words ‘fix it’ and ‘medicine’ interchange in a monotone sequence over heavily industrial beats. The words cause you to watch in a disquieted manner, but the pounding of the well-constructed percussion entices movement, it not long before most of the crowd are up and dancing to this sound art set as much as they would a full-on club night.
With each section that comes, the remnants of the last continue to beat through for a little while, unable to let go fully until the weight of whatever has come next is too powerful. This gives things a dream-like quality, sections clearly identifiable from each other but time given for residual overflow.
This murky sound art set picked the Tides showcase audience up – both metaphorically and physically – guiding them through quieter moments with pause and letting fly with thudding dancier passages. A dark but beautiful vision confidently displayed with a fluidity akin to a physical performance.
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