Concert Preview
Sound and vision
Music pioneer Laurie Anderson ventures into the future

By Wendy Case / The Detroit News



 

Laurie Anderson 
    
   8 p.m. Sat. 
   Hill Auditorium, 825 N. University, Ann Arbor 
   Tickets $40, $32, $22 and $16 
   Call (734) 763-8587 

 
   There's something about Laurie Anderson's voice that draws you in
   like a whisper. A hushed, simple sound like waves lapping at the
   shore, suggesting something much more complex just beneath the
   surface.

   "It's wild today," says the artist/writer/musician in her instantly
   recognizable, gentle tone. "We're trying to ship a big sound
   installation to France. There's just a million details."

   Anderson is speaking by phone from her New York City studio. The
   installation is a 50-piece retrospective of her "sound works,"
   which include interactive sculptures and sound-producing machines,
   going up this month at the Contemporary Art Museum of Lyon in Lyon,
   France. The artist is simultaneously launching a 30-city U.S. tour,
   which drops into Ann Arbor's Hill Auditorium on Saturday.

   But the logistics of the tour and the exhibition don't seem to faze
   Anderson. After all, details are her specialty.

   "Often, the big ideas are just too vague," she says. "I like
   specific details of things."

   Though Anderson, 54, has been working, performing and teaching art
   since the mid-'70s (she holds a B.A. from Barnard and an MFA in
   sculpture from Columbia), the Chicago native first came to the
   attention of the art/music worlds in the early '80s with her debut
   album, Big Science.

   Electronic music was still in its infancy. Artists such as
   England's Brian Eno and San Francisco's the Residents were already
   mingling it with performance art. But it was Anderson's 1982 hit "O
   Superman" that brought these elements to the masses. The song
   marked a giant step for experimental music with its electronically
   modified vocal performed over a repetitive vocal loop with a faint
   synthesizer in the background.

   "She's part of a small group of artists that bridge the gap between
   art culture and pop culture," says Warren Westfall, owner of
   Ferndale's Record Collector and longtime champion of avant garde
   music. "She makes abstract ideas entertaining to people who
   wouldn't normally have access to that kind of thing. She's a door
   opener."

   Spoken word, violin (her primary instrument), film, lights,
   computers and synthesizers all found their way into Anderson's work
   at a time when electronic music and performance art were still
   considered "fringe" endeavors.

   "I think a lot of the stuff (today) is actually less adventurous
   than 20 years ago," she says. "I never cared about being the first,
   or the last, to use something. I just cared that it was weird and
   that it was beautiful."

   Anderson says that longtime fans may not recognize a lot of the
   material in her new show, and that the events of Sept. 11 changed,
   profoundly, what she had in mind for the tour.

   "When the 11th came along, it really changed," she says. "Suddenly,
   there were real conversations going on. What do you think justice
   is and what do you believe in? These people who are willing to die
   for this thing -- that's so extreme. What do we want to protect
   here? What makes this worth it for us?"

   Anderson says that her performance will be a "collaboration" with
   the audience. "I know that it's going to change a lot because some
   of it is based on what's happening at the moment. It's such an
   amazing time to be around," says Anderson who in the past also has
   collaborated with longtime boyfriend singer/songwriter Lou Reed.

   After her new live album is released in May, she'll start working
   on her next ground-breaking adventure -- as the first
   artist-in-residence at NASA.

   "They said, 'You could work with the Jet Propulsion people in
   Pasadena or you could go down to Houston and train as an
   astronaut,' " Anderson says. "I freaked out and said, 'Are you
   kidding? Does that mean I could go up?' They said, 'No, but use all
   of our resources, look around and see what you want to do.'

   "I would give anything to go up there," she muses. "Wouldn't you?" 

    

You can reach Wendy Case at (313) 223-4647 or wcase@detnews.com.