Mundane Utopia

I’m waiting now at the airport to return home after an intense week in Auckland. The focus of this intensity is the installing, and then opening, of the sound installation Mundane Utopia at the Audio Foundation. The Audio Foundation is an essential centre for boundary-pushing sounds explorations located in the middle of the Auckland CBD, and holds a massive role in ongoing adventurous sound making within Aotearoa, but also holds a substantial archive of what has come before. I had the opportunity to spend a week in residence there last year and this exhibition is the follow on from that.

I have never really been involved in the gallery installation process, so learning was required on the fly, but we had days to work on it as the install evolved through various arrangements.  The final layout feels organic and coherent,  and remarkably simple for the amount of effort required. The opening was well attended with a lot of playful interest in the sound project.

The following day was a full performance at the Whammy Backroom. The lineup was U R A Tooth, representing the home team, two drummers duelling like collapsing stars, unrelenting and explosive, plus bass and saxophone for any portion of the eardrum left unbruised. Then my turn for the first post-Java show. A nice touch at the end of my set was a gentle game of ‘have-the-audience-kick-the snare-and-ride-around-the-dance-floor’ while I let the the synth sound disappear. Very homely. And Hōhā, from Ōtepoti/Dunedin, on third to round out the sonically dense evening. Drums, guitar and dual vocals, improvised song-forms, with the last piece being only drums and processed vocals.  Superb.

On Saturday afternoon, I had the chance to present Office Ambiance back in the Audio Foundation. A seminar session hosted be MEL (the Musical Electronic Library located at AF), which gave me the chance to talk a bit about the process, thinking, and science behind my project. Some wonderful discussion followed, interesting questions, reflections, and similarities with others’ own creative projects.

And finally, on Saturday evening, I hosted a screening of the independent film Jogja Noise Bombing with a bit of Q&A at the end. I offered some thoughts on my recent opportunity to perform at JNB, as well as answer questions that curious minds wanted to ask.

Many thanks to the Audio Foundation and crew, Jeff, Sam, Tash, and all the others, for their support in making this series of events possible…couldn’t have done it without you all.

Mundane Utopia: Installation @Audio Foundation, Tāmaki Makaurau/Auckland

Photo: by Wawan Sutiawan, Cirebon, Java, Indonesia.
Photo say 13 June - 6 July
Kieran Monaghan presents
vegetable.machine.animal
Mundane Utopis.
There is an image of Monaghan hunched over the modular synthesizer, parts of a drum kit are behind him, in the foreground is a plant and then a lot of cables and equipment. This photo is taken from a performance in Cirebon,. Java, May 2024.
Further text
Opens 5.30pm, Thursday 13 June
Live Performance, Friday 14 June, Whanny Backroom, 8pm.
Offience Ambience artists talk, Saturday 14 June, Audio Foundation, 1pm.
Jogja Noise Bombing Screening, Saturday 15 June, Audio Foundation, 5pm.

The Audio Foundation is located at 4 Poynton Terrace, central Auckland. It is open Tuesday to Saturday from 12 to 4 pm.

Mundane
1: of, relating to, or characteristic of, the world
2: characterised by the practical, transitory, and ordinary
– Some mundane online dictionary

Utopia
“…we should reinvent utopia, but in what sense? There are two false meanings of utopia. One is this old notion of imagining this ideal society we know will never be realised. The other is the capitalist utopia … of new perverse desire that you are not only allowed but even solicited to realise. The true utopia is when the situation is so without [solution], without the way to resolve it within the coordinates of the possible, that out of the pure urge of survival you have to invent a new space. Utopia is not [a] kind of a free imagination, utopia is a matter of inner most urgency, you are forced to imagine it, it is the only way out, and this is what we need today.”
– Slavoj Žižek, Public lecture at Universidad de Buenos Aires

What could utopia sound like? What if the mundane babble of things simply going about their livingness was how it sounded? Not in a state of idealised perfection, but a continuous and dynamic state of balancing. What if we could perceive this?

This installation aims to make audible a little piece of what is already, has been, and will continue to go on for a very long time. Just beyond ‘our’ world is the world of everything else, unfolding in its ordinary, continuous, mundane way. The machine in this exhibition holds the place of a translator. It detects signals of ongoing, other-aliveness and converts into crude signals audible to human anatomy. It is an unsophisticated interpretation. It provides no comprehension, but does enable us to perceive something that is not of us, in a way that may make some sense to us.

And how shall we interact with this. The ‘other’ knows when we are here, we can hear its signal change with interaction: touch, adding water, being neglected and dehydrating, and shining UV as if we pretend to be daylight. A mundane utopia for troubled and damaged times exists already, it’s not waiting for us.

—–

Opens: Thursday 13 June, 5.30pm, with refreshments by Liberty Breweries
Hours: 12 – 4pm, Tuesday – Saturday
Closes: Saturday 6 July

Public events:
Friday 14 June, 8pm @ Whammy Backroom
vegetable.machine.animal live in concert
Tickets here
More info here

Saturday 15 June, 1pm @ Audio Foundation
Kieran Monaghan Office Ambience performance and artist talk
More info here

Saturday 15 June, 5pm @ Audio Foundation, free
Film Screening: Jogja Noise Bombing (Indonesia)
More info here

Noise music at Covenant

Rāmere (Fri) 24th May | [OFFSITE] Noise at Covenant: Bloodfucker / DSLB / Eveline Breaker / Hexus

Bloodfucker: Sparkle wave pixie demon noise pop

Eveline Breaker: Pixel ambient and bitcrush pop by Lilith Ercolano of Feshh  (for the girls)

DSLB: Ditzy Squall’s Lunchbox (DSLB), is the solo project of Chrissie Butler from Mr Sterile Assembly fame, whose “sideways lyrics and staked up patterns” bring a glistening glean to erogenous ears.

Hexus: @lady_stab

Covenant is an occult gallery and boutique located at 2 Adelaide Road, Mount Cook, Wellington, New Zealand

Koha Entry

Special thanks to Creative New Zealand for supporting Pyramid Club’s programme

In the End, it’s Enough

I share the shower with a cockroach. It’s done. This is the day after the last show, and the end of the tour. We both go about our daily business, not minding the other.

The last shows were both very nice. 

The first show is in Tangerang, a western city in the greater city of Jakarta.  I come straight to the venue from the airport, leaving Malang this morning. The show  is in a small room on the top floor of a cool cafe. A cozy crowd hug close to the performers.  Five acts, three noise acts, one person playing homemade percussion and stringed instruments, and myself. The Jakarta noise acts were interesting in that there was a lot more use of ambient space, quietness, within the sets. Whereas Malang’s style seemed to be an unrestrained intensity.

The following days show is in the city of Serang.  I think it’s close by but I’m wrong. It’s about three hours all up in travel. Two taxis and two trains are required from Jakarta to Serang. The venue is reported to once upon a time belong to the first recognised academic from this city. A historian who specialised in history of this area. The building now is sparse. It is in the early days of establishing as an art space, a gallery, and an adjoining performance space. It’s the first time I see serious rain.

Stylistically, it is the most diverse show of the tour. Again, five acts.  A solo vocalist producing vocal loops and building beautiful layers over the top. This is accompanied by two dances who circle each other with markers between teeth and toes, making marks on both floor and face of the other.

I perform second and have the chance to play 30 minutes. I can tell I’ve grown into this act. It feels like it’s establishing a solid confidence that can hold this length of space. Third was a more ambient trio, one playing computer and keyboard, a second percussing time on a series of clay gourd-like instruments that I do not know the name of.  The third played wind instruments, sung, possibly in a Koranic style, and added movement.
BootyCall on fourth,  plays a short, sharp, and blistering blast in contrast to the previous.  The final act, a nine-piece band,  playing their first ever show, and get the place jumping.  I think they are essentially playing covers versions of a local act.  Everyone seems to know the words to every song.  Maybe it’s fun a local past pop band,  with a groovy Dungdut feel throughout.

And that’s it. Over. As successful as I dare not hope for. Time seems to have traveled slowly in these days.  It feels like a long two and a half weeks in the best way. The apprehension of the baggage discussed in that first post did not appear. This feels like an excellent milestone moment.

So what have I learned? Practical things like that the infrastructure upgrade in Indonesia over the last few years has made it that much easier to travel around. I’m told some services like Gojek have taken a much more central place since covid. They were unexpectedly prepped and ready to deliver contactless deliveries swiftly and are now an established and trusted service, as well as a massive employer across the nation.

Some personal learnings are around how to develop this musical project. The positive affirmations received after performances certainly give a confident boost to this idea. I don’t think I can say I saw anything similar to what i was presenting. The next step is simply to throw everything at this project to see where it can go, and what it might be capable of. I feel like the scope has opened and am excited to see how it develops. 

And I’m pleased to also learn that the connections made while traveling and playing continue to be something I want to experience. Close to the last show, I had a conversation with someone about how to identify ‘what is enough’. This question explores the motivations and expectations, reality studies vs hopeful ambitions, and the practical successes that may be achieved when experimenting in this space.

And I think to myself that there really is not too much more that I could want. What this trip has provided has been absolutely enough. Now, all I want is more of it, please.

Photo by Ahmad Dimyati, Serang, 2024

—————

Leaving the city for the airport, the GoJek driver turns the stereo on and plays a Bryan Adam’s album. It’s cheesy and confounding-ly fitting. Syrupy in the cab, while outside the taxi window, the perpetual sound, the essence of noise bombing, of the existence of Jakarta, is everywhere.

—————
Notes :
As I leave, looking out to the left, there is a large black and triangular kite, with a long black tail, fly over the blue and yellow tiled roof of a Masjid. There is a faint belt of smog on the horizon. The rest of the sky is blue and clear. The sun is full and orange, at in the direct and opposite direction.
———–
There is a packet of scented something hanging from the rear view mirror in the taxi. It has the name Stella printed on it.

[ review [ of sorts ] of others ] BootyCall

Overhead fans
Slice air

Sound draw
textures of wood
Braille
of grain
The table gives up
everything

Waves push
up against
down coming rain
Oceans ruck

This is no Disaster Radio
Sonic monologs
silence everything
EVERYTHING hears

Waves to frighten
It’s what the train wheel hears
The mosquito knows its own sound
The trees’ experience of the city
The noise is being itself

This is no Disaster Radio!
Sonic monologs
silence everything
Everything hears

Wooden scartissue
Extraction is action
The table withstands

BootyCall, a noise artist from Copenhagen/Finland

Digging into Malang

I manage to catch good sleep on the overnight train.

Inside this carriage, the smell is overwhelming. Outside the window is mile in mile of sugarcane, but somewhere among all this is lemongrass. Maybe it’s a companion crop? It is however quiet unmistakable.

Everywhere else is rice. The labour required to cultivate looks enormous. It’s early morning, and there are only a few working in the fields. The farmer is using a tool Id call a grubber, to slice first, scoop second, the nearly black mud from the earth, to deposit onto the rising mounds built fur holding water in the rice field. Human dredging. Digging deep.

Malang.
Arriving on the overnight train, I obtain a taxi and take off in the direction of accommodation.  Driving for 30-40 minutes, we get to the place where Google Maps says it should be. It isn’t. A deeper investigation offers a second location. We backtrack towards the city in the hope of success. We arrive at a point where it seems I’m in close walking distance. The cab leaves, and I head off on foot. I get to the place, again,  where Google Maps says it should be.  It isn’t!  My phone is running. I’m in the middle of a kampong, s made of dwellings, and reliant on the maps app. I have enough juice to find my way to the main street and to hail a cab. I head to the venue and plan to sort later.

The venue is the Malang Creative Centre, a serious multi-story facility of venues, Co working spaces, gif stalls, and ongoing constructing.  The show itself is epic noise. Act after act after act. Quick changeovers. The audience grows in capacity through the day. I have a rough idea of what I can do in the allocated 15-minute performance.  I abandon most ideas mid fight and deviate of in surprising and satisfying directions.

During the day I get offered a bed at someone’s house. But later in the evening, they disappear, so I look for plan D.
There are not many options at this time of the evening. I choose something that onscreen looks ok. The internet is quite different from real life.

It’s a small blue concrete box on the third floor of a decaying residence through large rusting metal gates.
The young women on reception was helpful. I am appreciative of this place to sleep. I actually think I am staying in a super cheap hostel for those of the Muslim faith. Signs everywhere that female heads must be covered. If you are a couple, you must be married. But it’s quiet and peaceful. 


The room has one power point, so i turn on the fan to cool down? Or charge phone? And it has a mattress on the floor, stained sheets, and if I’m quiet enough, I get a whiff of piss. The springs of the mattress massage me to sleep and wake me up.

I look for Plan E the next morning. Friday, it’s a day with no shoes. I catch a cab across town. Plan E is good. Still minimalist in amenities but closer to where Ineed to be. 

I have a detour planned for Friday. I freshen up and walk to the train station to catch a train to Blitar. I want to visit old friends. The family and extended kin of Stella, the now young women who we wrote that song all those years ago.

16 years ago was the first time we traveled to Blitar. At the time, I thought it was a village, but it’s actually a sizable city. I met Lestari, Stella, and family and talk and eat. Afterwards, I have time to visit Ni Kita Jibril Komunike, the collective who hosted our previous shows in 2007 and 2012. We talk about times, friends alive and gone, and those unwell. Illness can hit younger and harder here.

And I try to answer questions about the white supremacist shooting at two mosques in New Zealand in 2019. It’s not the first time I’ve had this conversation here. The phrase ‘an attack on one is an attack on all’ feels painfully true this far from home.

I sleep two hours and then return to Malang with Lestari’s husband by car.  He is going on to Surabaya to drive a taxi for income, thy money is better there than in Blitar. He has family in Surabaya but tells me he sleeps in his car.
Every week or two, he says he returns home to Blitar for a day/night to visit.

The second Malang show is upstairs in a heavily graffiti cafe, amazing coffee, good food, and a rooftop [where my band member comes is found]. The show is organized by the same crew as Thursday, and the first performer is on near 4 pm. Wall to Wall intense noise with much dynamic difference. Some use instruments, some voice, and some prerecorded sounds. It’s hot! Outside is a busy road and its traffic is constant and loud. Inside is the same.

I write about Slammy Karugu‘s set. My set is close to the end, I’ve only had about three/four hours of sleep since yesterday, I’m tired but throw absolutely everything at it… mission accomplished. Another joyous show.

Now I can let myself go and crash. Sleep, come to me.

Notes:
———–
The mosquitos sing to me of feasts.  Even my deafened ear works well in their company. In the morning, I shall see what comments they have left.
————
The last time I sat under this roof, our friend, Pepenk, was here.  A lot has happened since then. Earlier tonight I went to visit that which his friends called his new home. A plot of earth near to his father’s final resting place. He was only 30.
————–
I’m lying awake waiting for friend to wake so we can head back to Malang at 3am. I’m looking at the cracks in the walls and wonder if they came from earthquakes.  Then, the whole building starts to rattle and wobble in a gentle, yet all encompassing, persuasion. The Earth is just rolling over in her sleep.

———
There is only a tin roof between me and the rain i think i hear. It’s not. It’s so quiet that I can hear the enclosed river that flows in front of the house underground. A river entombed by the Dutch sometime in the last 100 years.

A roster is singing its welcome.

[ review [ or sorts ] of others ] Slammy Karuru’s Final Rupture of the Varicose Vein

This Hulk has dreadlocks
Not hipster style
Matted by mess
and degradation

Whose drums take no prisoners
Who is rolling on the sheets metal
Who will out-harsh the harsh
You ever listened with the ears of a landslide?

Warwhales!
If you could really listen to the ocean you would hear she takes
no prisoners

Bruce Banner Blastbeats
Banners of no retreat
Febrile dreams and fevers teeth
No prisoners!

Wasps beat thorax in communion
The hive is alive and knows your name
Born with mean means to tattoo
No prisoners!

It is the Hulk
Kicks the hive
Fights the sea
Crushes it all
Tears it all

Hulks pulse beats a worse morse

No prisoners!!

Slammy Karugu is one part of the incredible duo Duma, on Nyege Nyege Tapes

Performing at Malang Sub Moise

[reviews [ of sorts ] of others] Rangga Purnana Aji

An evening of shadows and breeze, under the holding-together eves of an old abode.

The artificial light, florescent and projected, night time colors that existed fornever until almost now.

Here’s motorbikes on dopler, conversations off-kilter,
nearby hawks for dollar,
and in this allyway, a master of ceremony

Rangga turns QWERTY to grooves,
joins disjointed patterns with glue of silence.
Rungga holds court,
captures drums,
spits then grinning

This echolaction for the slow

The ghost play flutes
Ghosts that live everywhere here unless the air has been cleared
Ghosts, trapped, out of time, cursed to repeat the last thing uttered, till…

Cleanse with noise
Return to drum
Hold no pattern

Quick
Pick it up…
your pulse is ringing
Quick
Something is inside….
Your chest
Quick
This b[e]at
Has hooks
Quick
Pick it up…
your pulse is singing

Rangga’s BANDCAMP

The Midnight Train to Malang

Seems like a good time as any to start something new.

It’s 23 past midnight. I’m meant to be on a train, but it turns out that it left the station 24 hours and 12 minutes ago, and I wasn’t on it. So much for well organized.

So I threw away my paid for piece of printed paper and went to buy a new ticket. I was a little apprehensive that there might not be a train for the holidays tomorrow (today). The train with the same time as last night was sold out but the 0131 had seats still available, and the bloke said, though a distorted speaker, if I say and waited for 30 minutes the price would halve  I wasn’t going anywhere.

I went to get a drink from the automatic drink dispenser, enter confusion Round Two.  Money inserted,  drink received.  But it didn’t give change and still had quite a number on the dial. So I inserted another 5000 rupiah to get one more drink and 0000 on the meter. Except I put in 50000 [ NZ$5] ! Drinks on the house for the porters!! They seemed appreciative.

I hope sleep also arrives with the train. Tomorrow’s show starts at 11 am. It’s a seven hour journey.

The last couple of days after Noise Bombing have been semi-relaxed. 

Monday was a day out and about the city. I returned to Krack Gallery, the venue from last Friday, to discuss buying a piece of art I had my eye on. Then off to the Yes No Wave shop.  Yes No Wave is a local label that releases amazing music.  The Nyege Nyege of South East Asia. Then I walk home.. the wrong way. Realizing my ability to get lost, I stopped and caught a Gojek scooter back to the homestay.  Gojek is an uber equivalent that has a huge scooter  division.  Returning to the homestay, I set up my synth, and with the help of the documentary maker,  Mattie, i record a lovely fungal cluster sprouting from a stump just in front of the homestay entrance. We gain the attention of nearby residents and kids who we invite to listen to these freaky sounds.  It’s all very entertaining. 

Later, I go out to see Gorz, one of the touring bands, playing a hastily organized show at a local poetry reading. I’m told these nights are a  regular event, so rural workers and farmers can read their writings.
Gorz sounds great tonight,  a much fuller guitar sound.


Tuesday ( when I should have been preparing to leave) was instead dedicated to rest and writing.  So low-key.  But by mid afternoon, I felt much more energized and went out to two shows. The first is Deathless, which I responded to in the previous post.  Then, across town to a second show of a more noisy disposition.

And today’s been relaxed.  Finished writing an interview for some local magazine and a video interview with Mattie about the what’s and why’s of my project.

Then, home to pack and depart.  It’s been a lovely stay.  The homestay seems to be a family affair, warm, friendly, and good humored.  One of the children, maybe 4, is very comfortable coming forward. He’s started calling me uncle. 

I then head out to one last noise show. The venue is a 15-minute walk to the train station. It’s around 11 when I noticed my error.  And here I am.  There’s a train coming in, but I’m not sure if it’s mine… nope, too early.

See ya later.