Words by Florence Nicholls.
Created by Matthias Sperling in collaboration with Temitope Ajose, Ben Ash, Iris Yi Po Chan and Katye Coe, Readings of what was never written was the last performance of a five year research project, NEUROLIVE. The research was a multidisciplinary pursuit to investigate the qualities of liveness. That is, to understand the specific nature and impact of live experiences as opposed to those that are simulated or recorded. Liveness is an act of engagement; a movement. Readings of what was never written was a series of conversations between human and artificial intelligence, sound and action and existed in the realm between reality and utopia. This show was mystically logical and frantically controlled, interplaying the disciplines of science and performance.
The live performance had already begun when I entered the space at Siobhan Davies Studios to be seated in rows on either side of the stage. We were positioned in a formation so that, at all times, we watched each other as well as the dance. Taking our seats, some of the audience were helped into EEG equipment to wear throughout the performance. On the stage carved out in the centre of the space, wearing every-day clothes in neutral tones, the ensemble improvised a score drawn from abstract instructions such as: “Perhaps this is a lift at a tube station.”
By “taking a reading”, the ensemble could connect to their immediate embodied experiences. Framing sensation as a self scanning process, the dancer called out statements attuned to their expressive desires. “The reading is: Frozen Orange Segments” relayed an ensemble member. The statement was scribed in a large notebook by another ensemble member who sat amongst the dance, observing the abstract expression transform into articulate physical gestures. “Frozen Orange Segments” replied the AI narrator. The cast shifted between roles as scribe, narrator, mover and observer, constructing a multifaceted system of translation from sentient and technological perspectives. “Tuning completed”, stated the AI narrator, and the lights dimmed low for the first EEG reading to be taken.
I felt as though I’d accidentally shown up to be an extra in an early science fiction film. The colourful caps, motion sensor glasses and heart rate monitor; the collection of strings, cables and hardware sprawled around the musician and the intermittent EEG readings resembled, oxymoronically, a nostalgic projection of the future.
Appearing as one organism as they travelled the length of the stage, meditatively and with complete physical control, the ensemble navigated a tight formation, creating moments for sensitive contact. Body joints formed to hold the weight of a skull, and resting places were made of backs and knees.
As I watched with great interest the dancing organism expand and contract, I was surprised to make eye contact with an audience member, catching glimpses of faces between the gaps in the dance. Noticing the array of sensor equipment attached to them I wondered, were they feeling, seeing and sensing anything that I was missing in my unaltered state? As those who had opted to wear the EEG sensors were in turn offering their physiological data to be monitored, analysed and tracked for the duration of the performance, I realised the rare anonymity of my position; to be an undetectable figure in a room saturated by surveillance.
Readings of what was never written was symbolic of the ephemeral nature of dance. Recalling the performance, I am reminded of Marcia B. Seigel’s notion that dancing is “an event that disappears in the very act of materialising”. Perhaps dancing is our attempt to touch time; to give form and shape to an ever changing moment. NEUROLIVE’s research aims to uncover the patterns in our physiological responses when engaging with live performance. In this instance, technology is used as a tool to emphasise the experience of liveness by posing the sentient and simulated in conversation.
When talking to a convincing simulation, the human voice is emphatically genuine. “The reading is: GONG, SAH, BAH!” said an ensemble member with dynamic inflection. As the AI narrator stumbled over its reply, struggling to dictate the exact and necessary cadence of the instruction, I felt an itch of embarrassment for that computer having made an eerily human error, preceding a deeper unease that I had been fooled into thinking it could care.
Find out more about NEUROLIVE here. Header image credit: NEUROLIVE Performance 4: Readings of what was never written, by Matthias Sperling in collaboration with Temitope Ajose, Ben Ash, Iris Yi Po Chan and Katye Coe. Photo by Hugo Glendinning.