Live Review: Philip Glass Ensemble: Koyaanisqatsi Live!

For the proto-hipsters of Melbourne in the mid-1980s and early 1990s, catching a screening of Godfrey Reggio's experimental sensory-overload film Koyaanisqatsi at the late, lamented Valhalla Cinema was something of a rite of passage. And looking around Hamer Hall on Friday night at an audience that's studded with 20-somethings but dominated by middle-aged types who appear to be holding onto vestiges of their coolness, inspires thoughts of just how many of these more-mature patrons experienced Koyaanisqatsi that way back in the day. For one audience member seated directly behind this scribe, sitting in an auditorium with the film unfolding on a massive screen while Philip Glass Ensemble perform its unforgettable score live may be akin to an epiphany. “Koyaanisqatsi,” he whispers as the film’s title appeared onscreen.

The three decades that have passed since Koyaanisqatsi's initial release have done little to minimise its impact as a chronicle of "Life Out Of Balance" (a translation of the film's Hopi-language title). It's a time capsule in many ways, especially when it comes to the urban landscapes and their inhabitants caught on camera, but the film's depiction of the isolation, depersonalisation and degradation that can accompany the industrialisation of the world around us rings just as true in the information age.

And while Reggio's imagery — frequently gorgeous or provocative on its own, sometimes given added dimension by manipulation of speed — is amazing, Glass' intricate, elegiac score is intrinsic to the effect it has upon the viewer. It gives the film a pulse, puts breath in its lungs and sends blood coursing through its veins. Having said that, this live performance of the score by the seven-piece ensemble, conducted by keyboardist, long-time Glass collaborator and music director Michael Riesman, while powerful, lacks something — an urgency, perhaps, or an immediacy that one would hope for.

It is far from disappointing, it must be said; the combination of keyboards, woodwind and voices work in beautiful conjunction with Koyaanisqatsi's imagery, acting as an accompaniment rather than overpowering the film onscreen. However, there are times when the performers seem almost overwhelmed by the demands of Glass' score — the repetition, the ebb and flow of its intensity — but these moments are fleeting and only noticeable because of the marvellous precision the ensemble brings to the performance overall.