There were only four others in the back room when I arrived for NONLOC’s set at Barbes Wednesday night, two of whom were musicians playing in the late set. It was the first of Bethany Ryker’s "Stochastic Brooklyn" nights, modeled after her eclectic Sunday night show on WFMU. Bethany seemed anxious, wondering aloud whether or not anyone would turn up for her new venture. (For some reason, she opted not to plug it during her show.)
NONLOC (a.k.a. Mark Dwinell) seemed unfazed by the small audience, admitting some difficulty getting used to the unique acoustics of the small back room. "Some nights, this stuff works better than others," he apologized.
Dwinell played acoustic guitar, with electronic effects and layers of self-sampling that moved in and out of phase. Some pieces were rhythmic and pulsing, others almost spectral in their sonic blur. Occasionally, he jumped over to the upright piano, plinking away at a repeating figure over his chorus of guitars. There was an improvisational, seat-of-your-pants feel to the whole thing: Dwinell, who manned his own levels, often seemed to be chasing after his own increasingly dense layers of sound.
But, when it all came together, some magical moments rose out of the soup. The guitar started to sound like a synthesizer. The electronics rose and fell. At one point, I could swear I heard voices. I came away convinced that Dwinell was some sort of musical shaman: part chance, part sorcery, all satisfying. The room even filled in by the end.
Around 10p, Bethany introduced Be An Astronaut, led by jazz drummer Tommy Crane. Crane played as if in a fever dream, sounding like Elvin Jones when he laid it down for ‘Trane on A Love Supreme. At first, he used off-kilter rhythms and ecstatic crescendos. Later, he threw his cymbal to the ground and tapped out a drum-and-bass beat while Maeve Gilchrist played the Celtic harp like a 12 string, dancing back and forth with Bing and Ruth composer/keyboardist David Moore. Eivind Opsvik, last seen with Butch Morris, filled in the foundation on bass.
Unfortunately, the drums often drowned out the other instruments, which, save for the keys, weren’t amplified. No doubt Crane is used to playing larger rooms, where the sound has somewhere to escape; for here, someone should have told him to bring a smaller kit.
Even so, Crane and friends hit some symphonic peaks, and the room – filled to standing – gave raucous applause in response. Not a bad start, Ms. Ryker.
Stochastic Brooklyn goes avant next week with the Peter Evans Trio and People (Mary Halvorson and Kevin Shea.) It’ll be the last thing I hear before catching a flight to Austin the next morning (more on that to come.)