Pseudo-Antigone (Simone A. Medina Polo) performing parts of her album Melancholic Melodrama. Prapti Sapkota/The Griff.

Insight into the musical exploration of Edmonton. 

Article by Josalynn Lawrence

Photos by Prapti Sapkota

New Music Edmonton’s Autumn Equinox concert was an absolute masterclass in sonic exploration, showcasing a lineup of artists who treat sound not just as entertainment, but as inquiry. The evening unfolded like a curated thesis on musical experimentation, each act offering a distinct chapter in the story of Edmonton’s vibrant and studious music scene.

Opening the night was Pseudo-Antigone (Simone A. Medina Polo), performing excerpts from her album Melancholic Melodrama. The set was a chaotic, electrified swirl of pop and experimental noise. I liked to imagine this was the sonic equivalent of stumbling into a Berlin rave at 2 a.m. Polo’s performance, encased in wires and early-2000s fashion nostalgia (knee-length boots styled with a black dress and cat-eyed glasses), was a commentary on fame’s Faustian bargain. Her sound, reminiscent of Charli XCX and A.G. Cook, was messy in the best way: a cathartic release of glittering, synthetic emotion.

Gary James Joynes followed with Panta Rhei, a meditative soundscape performed facing away from the audience. “It’s a little selfish,” he admitted, “but it helps me deliver a better mix.” The room dimmed to near darkness, save for Joynes’ neon silhouette amidst all the wires and electric hues of the soundboard. The lights are immediately dimmed, and everything is dark, save for the electric blue outline of Joynes plugging away at the soundboard. He appeared to be a magical conductor engulfed in a colourful mirage of neon hues. Panta Rhei is self-described as “an evolving river of sound,” and that’s exactly what it sounds like. It starts off with a pleading, low, tonal sound. Closing my eyes, I imagined myself wading through water. Audience members were in this intimate, dark room that might as well have been a sound bath. 

Golden Sun Trio—Nadir Bellahmer, Ethan Bokma, and Mustafa Rafiq—offered a set of improvised music that felt like a ritual. With their album Lifecycle, Ritual, Myth freshly released the night before the show, the trio played in a half-moon formation, deeply absorbed in their instruments. Bokma was both relaxed and intensely concentrated on his banjo. Bellahmer had the posture of a well-trained dancer or classically trained musician who has been playing music for a lifetime, speculating from the highly held grip he had on his violin. Meanwhile, Rafiq elected to take his shoes off pre-performance (perhaps a pre-show ritual?) while curled around his guitar like a book.  Each musician seemed to tell a story of how they individually embodied a different mode of musical devotion. Before their set began, the trio elected to open the garage door (the venue was Mile Zero Dance Society – a small, intimate space with quaint chandeliers hanging above and a garage door hidden behind the studio curtains), and wouldn’t you know it, a potted sunflower revealed itself. Whether this sunflower was a planned prop or perhaps a curious moment of serendipity remains to be seen. However, I will say that it only added to the already mystical experience of the evening. 

Next, Nanyen Lau and Jia Jia Yong brought ancient Chinese instruments into the modern fold. Lau’s Erhu, a two-stringed instrument with a thousand-year history, was a hauntingly beautiful sound to modern ears. Lau’s playing was as if we, the audience, were stepping back in time to more ancient days of storytelling. Indeed, that may have been  a deliberate intent on Lau’s part. Lau is a longtime current concertmaster of the Edmonton Chinese Philharmonic Orchestra. Through revitalizing an older instrument, Lau brings a dedication to bringing Chinese culture and music to a wider audience. Jia Jia’s Konghou—a modern recreation of a Chinese harp—added shimmering layers of melody and magic. As one of the few Konghou players in North America, Jia Jia’s performance was not just rare but delightfully enchanting.

Closing the evening was Access Intimacy, a score by Berlin-based composer Michael Winter and local artist Brooke Leifso. Two performers (Gary James Joynes in Winter’s place) sat face-to-face, breathing in and out through harmonicas under the glow of a single amber lamp. The piece began in sync, then gradually unravelled into asynchronous breath. The breathwork itself reminded me quite a bit of the type of breathing one might do to self-soothe post-anxiety attack; it was a mix of raw vulnerability and quiet intimacy.  In short, it was a lovely display of what, perhaps, a chaotic human connection could sound like. 

Throughout the night, the audience remained studious and attentive, reflecting the ethos of New Music Edmonton itself. This wasn’t just a concert, it was a symposium of meticulously stitched-together sound.

New Music Edmonton continues to be a vital force in the city’s cultural landscape, nurturing a community where experimentation is celebrated and music is treated as both art and inquiry. The Autumn Equinox was enriching and downright transformative. Students and music fans alike should definitely pay attention to the cool things happening at New Music Edmonton.