Liquid Architecture is now in its twelfth year and this is the ninth time the sound art festival has made its way to Brisbane, courtesy of local curator Lawrence English, making it the longest running event of its type up here. It’s always a fascinating evening, usually filled with artists I am, at best, tangentially aware of, all pushing the boundaries of sound and what it means to make music. This experimentalism makes the final result a bit of a gamble for the audience, but it’s one that I’m very happy to take, because when it succeeds, it’s like nothing else you will experience.

This year, the festival features German artist Marc Behrens, Pascal Battus from France, Lukas Simonis and Dave Brown (Netherlands and Victoria, respectively), and Tralala Blip, out of Newcastle. They showcase a number of different approaches and results to the idea of sound and music, its creation and its intent. Once again, Brisbane has embraced the festival, with a near sell-out crowd in attendance.

In the rooftop terrace of the Brisbane Powerhouse, the artists’ gear is spread through the room and the audience takes their seats on the floor, claiming cushions while gingerly avoiding the expensive equipment, and hopefully finding enough room to sprawl out during the more relaxing moments.

Tralala Blip are up first, a collective of differently-abled musicians, who produce the most accessible pieces of the night. Featuring five members on a series of midi-controllers and sequencers, with a different member providing vocals for each of their four tracks, their sound lies mostly in the IDM ethos, although with a pop embellishment. The music of these pieces is quite enjoyable and is definitely the closest to traditional composition that was featured at LA this year. The heavily processed vocals aren’t really to my tastes, as I generally prefer instrumental compositions in this field, but they certainly do add a catchy hook and a human element to a style which can sometimes be devoid of either.

Lukas Simonis and Dave Brown join forces next, on heavily processed guitars, played with non-traditional objects. Brushes, tuning forks and what appeared to be a metal crank are all used to generate a series of noises that are about as far away from normal guitar tones as you can get. Their set features two tracks tonight. The first is a triumph; a gradual build to a crescendo of interwoven sonic textures that demands your complete attention. The second piece is, regrettably, a lot more meandering and felt anticlimactic after the first, though it is not without its own moments of beauty.

After a brief intermission, Pascal Battus takes to the floor of a now silent room. Even the air-conditioning had been switched off in order to avoid ambient interference. This set unfortunately epitomises the aspect of sound art that elevates the conceptual over the musical. Unamplified (or at least not through the central PA), Battus begins the set with light percussion, tapping a sheet of hard cardboard on a raised box of some sort. This then moves to the interaction between small desk fans and various pieces of cardboard, paper, cellophane and a cymbal. This whole sequence is interesting, at least in terms of forcing the audience to pay very close attention and consider the way in which we listen, but it does veer towards ridiculous at times, generating some quiet laughter from the crowd, and the silences during which new objects are selected leave the composition feeling random, rather than considered.

While Marc Behrens quickly sets up, Lawrence English advises us to get comfortable and find some space to lie down in. Behrens then closes the night with a significantly more successful combination of the academic and entertainment aspects of sound art. Using the quadraphonic speaker setup and two small additional speakers that he’d brought in, Behrens uses pre-recorded sounds, made from different materials in a studio environment, to generate a sort of drone soundscape. Although slightly hampered by a lack of volume (at least to my taste), the music is nonetheless highly evocative, and Behrens positioning and movement around his laptop and desk created a visual aspect beyond the norm of ‘man stares at computer’. The closing few minutes of the set are particularly enjoyable; a loud hum that moves around the room and builds in volume, until eventually, slowly, fading out to almost inaudibility, there only as a barely perceptible buzz. Well, a barely perceptible buzz and the faint sounds of an audience member snoring, lulled into sleep by the blissful waves of ambient sound. A successful and relaxing end to another interesting and challenging evening of music.

- Words and Photos by Sky Kirkham