12 Seconds of Light - One Hour of Delight

Until May of this year The Modulus Quartet had not performed outside of London. Since then they have played in a slate mine in Keswick and a cave in St. Neots, as well as The Soup Kitchen in Manchester and the Electric Cinema in Birmingham. Tonight they arrive at the medieval former church which acts as auditorium to the Norwich Arts Centre.

The Arts Centre, although being ideally suited as a venue for string quartets, is rarely used for any form of chamber music. This is odd, as it has a proud history of pushing boundaries and promoting an all-encompassing programme, including diverse and eclectic acts. Serious, and classical, music would seem to just dovetail perfectly into their already varied schedule.

I have rushed back from a day on the beach on not only the hottest, but also the longest day of the year, in order to catch what promises to be an intriguing performance.

The Modulus Quartet worked closely in collaboration with six contemporary composers to put together this programme, and each piece is preceded by a brief filmed introduction from the composer themselves. There is no printed programme, and no other introductions from the members of the Quartet, so it pays to listen and glean as much information as possible from these short films. Each piece, whilst very different in style, sets out to challenge the traditional repertoire of the string quartet.

Without Quartet, by Terry Davies, uses music originally written as a quintet for Matthew Bourne's dance company, but is re-worked for four instruments. Whilst still maintaining jazz influences the result takes on a mood reminiscent of a post-war black and white film thriller.

The Golden Road Suite, in three movements, by Eliot Lloyd Stuart is accompanied by some stunning graphics by Tom Brown, abstract shapes and hues of rich yellows projected behind the four musicians. Starting with a Nyman-like arrival, passing through a Landscape of Souls that reminded me of  Ilona Sekacz's score to the Dutch film saga Antonia, and completing with The Bittersweet Journey, which opens a repeating phrase inspired by the African bow - the earliest of known stringed instruments, and seems to recall Clint Mansell's soundtrack to The Fountain, The Golden Road Suite is not only my favourite piece from the programme, but also the most life-affirming in its spirit and hope.

Ash Madni's contribution Clarity From Fragmented Memories, manages to fuse elements of Indian and Arabic musical culture into a challenging piece with some interesting pizzicato passages from second violinist Craig Stratton.

Richard Norris' Mumbai Nights is probably the piece most likely to divide audiences. Using a specially recorded bhangra backing tape and news reportage to play over, and a video projection splicing together scenes of Indian daily life, the quartet perform the three movements that tell, in chronological order, events of the 2008 hostage taking in the Indian city. Those who believe that dance music and string quartets should not mix may be horrified. Personally, I loved it, and its factual and well-documented events serving as inspiration and polarising progression from Ash Madni's composition constructed out of memories.

The performance's title draws from a piece by Finnish composer, Veera Lummi, who in turn was inspired by a story told by a Uruguayan musician, who recounted a tale of a remote village without electricity where the only street lighting came once every twelve seconds as the nearby lighthouse beacon swept through. The opposite of this became the inspiration for 12 Seconds of Light. The music, and accompanying video imagery, concentrates on bursts of activity punctuated by short pauses.

Finally, Matthew Slater's experimental piece Memoria Technica brings the performance to a close with a three-sectioned piece that attempts to use sampling and looping of the individuals' playing to be fed back into the performance, allowing each musician a chance to interact with their own playing - a combination of discipline and freedom co-existing within one composition. In the final segment, In Futuro, the piece draws to an end with each member bringing their playing to an end, and with each music stand light individually extinguished until the stage is in darkness. The quartet make their exit as their instruments are still being heard, repeating and fading into the distance like ghostly echoes. Stunningly effective.

Modulus Quartet might like to see themselves as the avant-garde of chamber music, but do not let that put you off, even if your musical tastes usually err on the traditional side of conservative. There is nothing unpleasantly dissonant or aurally challenging in what they choose to do. There are no awkward moments where the artistry is not immediately obvious or sonically coherent. Every moment of the 12 Seconds of Light is filled with absolute beauty and concentrated performance. Even though the composers approach their work from very different points, the meeting place is one of embracement and diversity.

Whether it be in a cave, or a museum, or a medieval church, I urge you to experience 12 Seconds of Light, and allow these four talented musicians, and eight contemporary composers, into your life.

The Modulus Quartet are :

Violin 1 - Jonathan Truscott

Violin 2 - Craig Stratton

Viola - Mircea Belei

Cello - Nick Allen

Modulus Quartet website

Modulus Quartet Facebook page

Loyalties and Freebies - The Volunteer's Dilemma

So, it is Wednesday. Officially, it is Day 6 of this year's Norfolk and Norwich Festival, although with volunteers having been involved in show previews and rehearsals, it is already starting to become troublesome remembering everything that I have already done and seen, and where. That's why I write this blog. It's not anybody else's benefit, it's simply my own personal memory bank deposit account.

 Last night's stewarding shift at the Great Yarmouth Hippodrome is still fresh in my mind, and most volunteers have either seen William Galinsky's production of The Tempest, or are looking forward to it. Either way, it is one of the biggest talking points among us, that and voting for our favourite flavour of Kettle Chips, or trying to organise a flashmob visit to the Egg Festival Café at Norwich Arts Centre.

Indeed, it is to Norwich Arts Centre that I am suddenly feeling slightly guilty. During the rest of the year I am one of several Festival volunteers who also help out at the Arts Centre, either on the box office or as ushers. During these two weeks there is almost a tug of loyalties developing as I throw myself whole-heartedly into the N&N, conscious that the regular team at the Arts Centre are working their collective butts off doing extra shifts as the venue hosts a full programme of festival events. Tonight and tomorrow is a chance to ease my conscience a little - I will be front of house for two NAC shows featuring Manchester based writer and performer Chris Thorpe.

There has been a very generous offer made to festival volunteers. An e-mail on Monday night gave details on how we might be able to obtain complementary tickets to certain shows, obviously on condition of last-minute seats remaining unsold. Both of Chris Thorpe's shows had already sold out, but we still manage to squeeze one volunteer into each night when a guest-list pass remains unclaimed. I don't get to see either show (someone has to man the desk!), and I potentially also miss out on the chance to see the man-versus-robotic-arm-ballet, 'Sans Objet' (which, I am told, was absolutely stunning), and the showcase production at The Playhouse, 'Wild Life'. Such is the dilemma that manifests through such tugs of loyalty!

I don't waste my daytime during Wednesday and Thursday, either. I manage to get the grass cut, which always makes me feel better, and make it into the city to check out how the Public Jukebox is faring in its new location outside The Forum, and to witness the progress made by the Dennis Design Centre in Chapelfield Gardens ahead of the weekend's two-day Garden Party.

After Wednesday's Chris Thorpe performance,'Confirmation', a fast-moving examination of Confirmation Bias, that tendency to selectively search for and recall information that reinforces our existing opinions, I confirm my own tendency and desire to imbibe in Adnam's Ghost Ship, and duly head off to the Spiegeltent.

Wednesday night is 'Lucky 7's' night at The Spiegeltent. Each night after the late show the Spiegeltent hosts a club night with a selection of top DJs. Tonight is Pushkin, ably assisted by Robbie Powell in a night that challenges us to test out our own DJ'ing skills. On admission we are invited to randomly draw a 7" vinyl single from the haul purchased by the Spiegeltent at local charity shops. Then, if we are so inclined, we can pop on the headphones and be tutored in the fine art of beat-matching and mixing our own vinyl treasure into the set-list. One of the first to hit the wheels of steel is our very own Head of Operations, the one and only DJ C-Lo.

My own allocated single is a little-known ballad from 80's teenage star Tiffany. It is the follow up to the number one hit 'I Think We'e Alone Now', and is called 'Could've Been'. The portents are all in place for it to be a massive floor-emptier rather than floor-filler. Not surprisingly I do not get the call up onto the stage.

I vow to return the following Wednesday armed with a couple of guaranteed crowd-pleasers. Watch out, Norwich. DJ Dav-iD will be back.

Deborah Pearson's Wonder Striker at Norwich Arts Centre

This was the first of two Live Art performances at Norwich Arts Centre by British-Canadian theatre producer and playwright Deborah Pearson, scheduled as part of this year's Norfolk & Norwich Festival. Whilst I am scheduled to work the Box Office on Thursday's second performance, and may have still had a chance to see part of the show, the offer of a free ticket for Tuesday's performance was simply too good an opportunity to let pass. The Festival Communications Team had released a limited number of complimentary tickets for Volunteers, and I had arrived in good time to guarantee my place.

The Festival programme, and the posters for tonight's performance do not give much away about the nature of the show, 'The Wonder Striker'. It is described, in brackets, as 'A Work in Progress', but is this to be taken literally? As well as a writer and producer, and co-founder of Edinburgh's award winning Forest Fringe, Pearson is also a performance artist, possibly best known known for her £1 'Advice Booth' which originated in Brick Lane, but also appeared at Latitude five years ago. 

So, who knows what tonight might bring? I have a pound coin ready, just in case.

The show starts with the opening credits to an old black and white movie. It is a foreign film. I recognise the word Magyar, and realise that it is Hungarian. Whilst the film continues, Pearson sits at a desk to the right of stage, monitoring a laptop screen and speaking via a microphone. She begins to translate some of the dialogue into English, even though there is already some sub-titling. 

Gradually it becomes clear that she is actually re-enacting a conversation had with a friend who had been watching the film alongside her, a friend who does not speak Hungarian. From snippets of the conversation we learn that one of the actors was her grandfather. The film is a 1950's comedy farce, so Pearson comments on the appearance of the cast, as well as the absurdity of the plot, and continues to translate as much as her Hungarian allows.

The story is set in the fictitious country of Futbolia. Following the recent football humiliation at the hands of a neighbouring country it is decided to buy the Hungarian wonder striker Ferenc Puskàs in order to bolster the national team. However, instead of purchasing Puskàs, a mix-up during negotiations in a hotel results in them buying instead a petty con-man and pen salesman (played by Pearson's grandfather). 

Just as we begin to wonder if this monologue is how the entire performance is going to pan out, Pearson moves from her desk and sits instead directly in front of the screen facing her audience. The film continues, but now the dialogue and plot become less important. Instead, Pearson is now having a present day conversation with the original Hungarian scriptwriter who, it transpires, fell out of favour with the authorities around the time of the Hungarian uprising in 1956. Whereas her grandfather was deemed to be a 'non-political' man, and managed to escape retribution, the scriptwriter had been viewed as a political subversive. Although the film was completed, and released in Hungary after the uprising, no writing credits were assigned, and entire scenes featuring the real Ferenc Puskàs had to be reshot using a doppelganger.

And so the whole idea behind 'The Wonder Striker' becomes clear. This is a performance of two halves, initially a personal journey of discovery about her grandfather, the film star, and a commentary of the film plot. It then becomes a commentary on the stifling of creativity and freedom of speech and movement during the aftermath of an unsuccessful revolution against communism and Soviet Russia. 

A totally thought-provoking and idiosyncratic performance that leads you to your own conclusion. Pearson's softly spoken delivery lulls you into a relaxed state before hitting you, with devastating precision, with laser-sharpened confidences and revelations. Whilst it is, Pearson stresses, still very much still a work in progress, this is very much a personal journey that may still have further to go.  

And if she gives me a £1 coin, I'd be more than happy to give her some more of my thoughts and advice. 

For the full Norfolk & Norwich Festival programme, and to book tickets, go to http://www.nnfestival.org.uk/

To learn more about Deborah Pearson, or to provide feedback, go to https://deborahpearson123.wordpress.com/