The Modes of Al-Ikseer

Hindu myth and 80's Synth Pop combine

Dan Graham’s ‘Rock is my Religion’ suggests that Jim Morrison finally destroyed his sexual power and position as a God-like figure on stage by exposing himself. The endurance of remaining as that infallible figure in your adoring audiences eyes is not a simple thing, but produced through clever staging and an ability to hold an allure based on a mystery; the pop idol of yesterday was a figure somehow outside of their audiences experience and beyond their grasp. To differentiate from today’s reality-TV star of whom we know a great deal, and are aware of their journey, rather than suddenly being presented with what appears to be a naturally gifted and accomplished figure on the grounds of instant celebrity is naïve in this situation, although it is necessary to mention the difference between a development that is well honed along the more traditional journey to stardom (that is practice, practice, practice) rather than our new generation of X-Factor reality stars who are made to substitute this with several weeks on our television screens.

Hindu legend is not the first thing that springs to mind when listening to a Depeche Mode track, and vice-versa, yet lines are drawn here using the language of ancient mythology and pop culture. The artist, Harminder Singh-Judge, slowly rotates on a steel platform above a pool of milky liquid, surrounded by unlit neon text (‘Pick up the receiver, I’ll make you a believer’) and lit with lasers and stage lights, circles and curved lines playing on the liquid and the artists face. There is a soundtrack, moving from ethereal synths to dark and powerful bass tones, an endurance of sound and light that finally builds into a rendition of ‘Personal Jesus’ as the artist is joined by two Dhol drummers. Singh-Judge never moves from his platform, but stays where he is, like a trinket on display or an idol presented for our delectation and reverence.

It would be easy for me to describe the Hindu myth of ‘The Churning of the Ocean’, and to contemplate the ins and outs of Depeche Modes’s influence on music and the impact in 1989 of the release of ‘Personal Jesus’, but I won’t. Not because that would be tedious, but because the work visually represents these and familiarity with both might just remove some of the mystery. Explanations of the allegories of milky liquid, talcum powder, the audience interaction and the lightshow might just remove a little of the spectacle; I assure you, however, that the actions Harminder Singh-Judge performs (or rather doesn’t perform) are perfectly illustrative of these two seemingly incompatible points in culture. The measure of the work is in the combination, not in the illustration.

You see, the experience of encountering this performance is, in some way, about endurance. It is true to say that not a lot seems to happen for the better part of the 45 minutes, yet in many ways this is the key: endurance, persistence and a meditative process that might lead to a greater plain. There is a struggle as the artist moves through dark passages before finally emerging into the light, showered with a blessing and raised up to experience a greater plain. There is a climax, at a point where some degree of absolution is achieved, self-realisation attained and perhaps an increase in status beyond the original humanity at the beginning. The idea of the artist on his journey is (unfortunately) a little clichéd, but there is something of that here, of persistence and remaining in the correct position in order to progress.

There is a question as to whether the work is about religion. Yes, in some ways, but it is also not; the symbology is there, the use of imagery and of a mystical interaction, yet it is also about how these ideas could be applied without the need for deity. ‘Personal Jesus’ is not about an encounter with the Christ, but in reference to a figure that might fulfil some of his role to the protagonist, a use of language derided from a biblical narrative. ‘The Modes of Al-Ikseer’ chooses to use the language of pop performance just as much as it allegorises myth, the lights, lasers and sound create an atmosphere not unlike that of a (quite long) intro to a bands set.

The popstar is just as revered as a deity, but in different ways. Our culture allows those in both positions to retain an anonymity that belies their transcendental power. Both are untouchable (and those that say they have touched them are seldom believed by the masses), and both maintain a separation from their followers. They have usually seen hard times on their way to through which their ability to maintain their position was developed (someone once said that great suffering breeds great creativity). Vishnu ingests poison that induces suffering and pain at the start of great concentration; the only way forward is to force progress through the agony. ‘Personal Jesus’ might just be about that figure that guides you through that pain.

‘The Modes of Al-Ikseer’ seems to me to bring these central ideas of idolatory and journey together in a way that seeks to illustrate the necessity to struggle before the higher plane is reached. So God, Popstar and artist stand side by side in their respective paths, as figures who demand a respect that verges on reverence. Debateable, yes; clichéd, definitely; if nothing else the performance is immersive in a way that is usually only seen at a well produced gig, and that’s good enough for me.

Photographs by Isabel Carrahar