It’s funny– the moment I was presented with the opportunity to cover a show at Constellation, I immediately jumped at it. I am a musician with an interest in new/experimental musics, so I’ve been told time and time again that Constellation is the place for me. At some point, whenever a person asked me if I’ve been, I just lied and said ‘yes’ to spare myself the theatrics surrounding the fact the I, the king of experimental (according to my non-musician friends), had never even stepped foot in its perimeter. Needless to say, I was beyond ready to change my attendance status from “slacking” to “in the know.” Now, I am a color of letdown, itching for more.
You walk through a semi-seedy door in a long brick building and enter a dimly lit world dominated by North Side hipsters. When I say everyone in the building had a carabiner on their jeans, I mean everyone had one (myself included). About 15 minutes before showtime, my own keys jingled with each step as I made my way over to the bar where I ordered a house special Moscow Mule. It was awesome, by the way. My dad, who joined me on this excursion, ordered a Manhattan, which he enjoyed. I tried it myself, but I’m not big a fan of whiskey, so I made my obligatory stank face before returning to my summery mule to wash away the dark liquor.
We took our drinks into the performance hall and sat close to the door facing what we assumed to be the front of the stage. The seats were positioned in rows, raised on lightly inclined risers. It was exactly like that of an old theatre. With a massive, dimly lit stage, it felt as if I was preparing to watch some kind of immersive theatre experience. Given the sheer size of the stage compared to the amount of seating, I was a little shocked when the first performing group, Amaya Peña & their band, took up so little physical space.
Whenever I am going to experience something that I am unfamiliar with, I like to do so completely blindly. No research before the show begins. Because of this, I had no idea that the music I was going to hear that night was closer to indie rock than the usual experimental jazz realm that I’ve been told Constellation typically lives in. I suppose I was looking so far down the barrel of a jammed gun trying to avoid having expectations that I shot myself in the face with expectations regardless. Amaya Peña was fun and cute, and they seemed charmingly nervous to be up in front of a crowd. The second guitarist and violinist stood out most to me during this set, both adding interesting details to songs I feel like I’ve heard before, despite never actually having heard their music. I am interested to see where they go next as they develop their sound and stage personalities.
One notable thing that I observed was how quickly the audience thinned out between sets. It was obvious that a larger portion of the room’s visitors were friends of Amaya Peña, but it put a semi-sour taste in my mouth when only about 1/3 of them returned for the second set. Despite trying to not have preconceptions about what I am about to see, I am left to wonder if the next set was something worth missing? Do these disappearing patrons know something I don’t?
Turns out, no, they do not. Moon Diagrams is an electronic solo project by Moses Archuleta of the band Deerhunter. A small table is positioned in the center of the stage, and the lights turn completely black as a video begins to play on the massive projector screen behind him. One thing about me is that I love multimedia performances. Audio and visual? Sign me up. The videos we saw before us were deeply edited clips of trees and skies, likely shot on an iPhone, though I am not able to say for sure. The music was noisy and granulated, which was a substantial change from the opening act. I liked that I was able to sit back and get lost in the visuals, but I was occasionally brought out of my trance by the change of a song or a menacing rumble in the floor. This set walked the line between ambient, lo-fi, and harsh noise, which I could absolutely appreciate. Part of me wished that I was able to fully lose myself in the sauce, but in the end, I enjoyed the art that was being made right in front of me.
The final set of the night, Anastasia Coope, utilized another set change and another audience rotation. Some left, some entered for the first time, while others were returning from a long break at the bar. I hate to be so observant, but I do feel that every detail contributes to the experience. The final setup was perhaps the most minimalist of the evening—a single guitar, a microphone, and a MacBook on a small table positioned next to some kind of mixer or effects station. Her voice is a mixture of Joan Baez and Diane Cluck, while haunting your heartstrings with unique songwriting. Anastasia Coope has a stylistic taste for maneuvering her voice around a single guitar chord, while also using singular lines repetitively until you really hear every single word. The lyrics seemed lonely, and I felt like I was the only person in the world able to change that. I was locked in. Sold, Anastasia. Amid my trance, out cries an aspect of the environment that I had forgotten about since my entrance—the dreadful carabiner, absolutely pregnant with keys just begging to be known. In the middle of a song, nonetheless. One person gets up to leave, then at least four more, all with noisy key chains, whispering to each other between steps. Honestly, they all could have waited 45 more seconds until the song was over to make an exit, but I guess choices like this are always made in haste. After the song of the brass/nickel/steel, it took me at least three more songs to get back into the groove. In the end, I really enjoyed what Ms. Coope had to share with us in that room.
It is remarkable to consider how much goes into a person’s thoughts on a particular experience. How I was feeling earlier in the day, recent life events, how hungry I was, and what I was looking to get out of the evening all played a role in how I developed my opinions on what went down. I am excited to visit Constellation again soon, hopefully to see jazz or something more obscure. I absolutely enjoyed my time on this visit, but subversive expectations seemed to be holding me back. Next time, I will go back with a full stomach and a clear mind, and hopefully all my troubles will wash away.
