Sonoptik presents Sonic Meditation #1: Lucky Dragons, Infinite Body and Lee Noble (1/28/2012)
Sonoptik presents Sonic Meditation #1
Lucky Dragons, Infinite Body, Lee Noble – 1/28/2012
http://sonoptik.org
http://aci-la.com
The Mahasukha Center, located somewhere west of the moat of traffic that bifurcates Los Angeles on the weekends, is named for the concept of “great bliss”. While “great bliss” strikes the cynical ear as an advertisement term, within the walls of Mahasukha, it is an ethos, a manifesto. Tucked away off the main drag of Centinela Blvd, the center’s unassuming façade belies a truly special interior space. The entry way is equipped with a wall of cubbie holes for patrons’ shoes, and is bathed in soft light. Suggested donations are collected with friendly smiles, and each member of the staff reminds you that snacks, teas and hot cocoa are up for grabs on the table near the left wall. The light hardwood floors are cushioned with gym mats and doughnut-shaped cushions, inviting tired bodies to follow gravity’s urge and make themselves comfortable. The front wall features a modest stage boasting similarly comfortable seating arrangements, creating a culture of seated ease for both the audience and the artist. A space like this, so lovely and earnest, could only be the result of meticulous cultivation and genuine emotional investment by its keepers. On the evening of January 29, I found myself at the Mahasukha Center, attending my second event hosted by L.A.-via-Melbourne bedroom label Sonoptik. Lee Noble, Infinite Body and Lucky Dragons were slated to play that night, the maiden bill for Sonoptik’s calendar events series at the Center, and in spite of the aforementioned traffic, a healthy crowd was gathered.
I arrived just in time to prepare a cup of gingerbread tea, select a strategic doughnut seat and exhale the remains of my stresses, before Lucky Dragons took the stage quietly. Tom Hall, Sonoptik’s founder, made his gregarious way to the front of the room and thanked us for our presence. He encouraged the audience to “be happy” and to allow themselves to sink into the “great bliss” of the performances, as this was the ultimate goal of the night – the appreciation of momentary joy while within the space. What would seem like a tall order in perhaps any other setting seemed effortless, sitting cross-legged before the Lucky Dragons’ wall projections, sipping tea from a squat, handcrafted mug and gazing upon my fellow rosy-faced concertgoers.
Four parallel trajectories of light shot up the wall behind the duo as their sounds swelled to life. Lucky Dragons are known to engage and interact with their audiences, melding light and sound to inspire organic moments of beauty, but this evening their bodies were still with concentration. The crowd was enraptured by their sound: that of a swarm of darkened fireflies suddenly throbbing to life, aglow. Delicate arpeggios hypnotically interlocked, and as they shifted, the light on the wall did in sync. It felt as though we were resting near a hearth, growing warmer as the music slowly morphed towards a climax (albeit a long, deep sigh of a climax). A searing industrial tone arose from the lagoon of twinkling intertwined notes, a drone engineered to reside in the listener’s brain, and it effectively sliced the performance down the middle, making itself the focal point. In conjunction, the light beams on the wall rotated to create the illusion of a sunlit window, and it struck me that both the audio and visual components evoked the sensation of staring into the sun. As the drone eased up and the performance ended, the band bowed modestly and Tom cried, “Lucky Dragons!”
With the intermission upon us, I refilled my teacup as Lee Noble began arranging his gear on the stage. Patrons stretched and slowly maneuvered through the space, finding new comfortable vantage points to settle, many of whom bore childlike smiles. I recognized a few DJs from KXLU and Dublab milling about, and as Lee signaled he was ready to begin, the lights dimmed and the fraternal chatter subsided. A stark, Diane Arbus-inspired black and white video began as a backdrop to his mournful soliloquy of an opening song, and I caught my breath. Both Lee and I hail from the Southern part of the U.S., and through his lens I recognized the soul-shriveling bleakness of a Tennessee winter. Like the Dragons’ set, Lee’s visuals were pitch-perfectly paired with his music, evoking the sense that we weren’t observing a concert so much as a live score. The words “MUSIC HORSEHAIR EVERYWHERE” flashed across the screen and spiral echos encircled Lee’s voice as it beamed through the space. He swigged from a tea cup perched on his amp, and as the image of barrels stacked behind a chain link fence entranced the audience, he clicked a cassette into place and an ominous chanting ensued. A lonesome finger-picked guitar accompanied it, and almost abruptly, the performance came to a close. I was personally transfixed and felt jarred by the sudden intrusion of the second intermission, but Tom, consummate host, graciously thanked Lee and reminded us where the distinctly Australian “toilets” were located, causing the audience to erupt with giggles.
Rather than setting up upon the stage, Infinite Body opted to position himself along the rear wall, thus urging the audience to readjust their vantage points by lazily relocating. His set-up was modest and within a few minutes, the Center’s lights dimmed to darkness, and for a brief, pregnant moment, we sat, breath baited, in total blackness marred only by the glow of the foggy skylights above. Patiently, his set began. Pure tones swelled and rose, accompanied most appropriately by a phoenix of colors behind him. With the ferocity of a buzz saw and the loveliness of a church bell’s resonance, he constructed three short, emotional pieces and we languished in the darkness, a collective reverie. Infinite Body’s work is clean and forceful, possessing the dexterity and control of a soulful human voice, and I found my eyes watering with appreciation. His was a stellar set to close out the evening’s entertainment, and as it ended, a potent sense of well-being overcame me.
Members of both Sonoptik and Mahasukha bid us farewell and wished us “great bliss” as the audience moved pillage the remains of the snacks and to retrieve their shoes from the foyer cubbies. Upon the faces of my fellow attendees, I recognized the peace I felt within myself. Great bliss, indeed. My ears, body and soul anxiously anticipate their next event on Saturday, Feb. 25, and I can’t encourage attendance eagerly enough! The Mahasukha Center throws the most comfortable Saturday night event in town, and with Sonoptik curating the bills tastefully, every month is sure to be uniquely lovely.
- Christina Gubala
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Sonoptik presents Sonic Meditation #1
Lucky Dragons, Infinite Body, Lee Noble – 1/28/2012
http://sonoptik.org
http://aci-la.com
Infinite Body / http://www.last.fm/music/Infinite+Body
Lee Noble / http://leenoble.bandcamp.com/
Lucky Dragons / http://www.luckydragons.org/
If you enjoy what you see in these pictures and would like to attend volume 2 of this special series, below is info for the next event being held at the end of February:
Sonoptik presents Sonic Meditation #2
Venue: Mahasukha http://www.aci-la.org/mahasukha.html
Date: Saturday, February 25th
Venue Address: 6512 Arizona Ave., Los Angeles, 90045
Doors at: 8:00pm sharp
Line up:
Hive Mind
Seraph Trev
Tiger Stripe
