The first belch drew laughter from the crowd. The second was followed by a collective gasp. By the third, there was utter silence. BLAST was a show that lived up to its name, blasting its audience out of the inertia of their comfort zone and into a spectacular world of light and sound, smoke and fire. They were confronted with an explosive combination of steam orchestra, smoke theatre and echo music which filled the air as well as the imagination. The performance was just short of an hour but kept its sense of magic and suspense throughout; by the time it ended the audience had been stunned into a state of paralysis, waiting, once the applause had subsided, for the next burst of energy to rip through the stillness. BLAST was not a simple catalogue of explosion after explosion, one loud bang after the next, but established instead a more steady and enduring rhythm, building up its momentum towards the effortless creation of unforgettably beautiful moments: the giant shadows of tall chimneys cutting through the smoke, a firefall cascading in gold and silver sparks from the top of the old station building, and a strange brigade of giant fireflies streaming across the night’s sky and away into the distance.
This was a blast from the past – old films of trains and railways projected onto the oldest surviving railway building in the world conspired with the modern railway behind to form the backdrop as each element of the old steam train was dissected and wonderfully reassembled before our eyes, from the flag and the whistles that marked its departure to the hoots and clunking rhythms of its journey. Occasionally it seemed to be a physical re-enactment of Auden’s beautiful Nightmail. The whirl of machinery and engines, motors and petrol certainly succeeded in recreating the old industrialism of the factories and train stations that used to crowd its setting, in one last glorious stand.
At times it felt like being trapped in the midst of an exhilarating war-zone, at others like being surrounded by a thousand boiling kettles with all the energy and excitement of the industrial revolution’s very first sparks. It brought us face-to-face with a fog-cat which, unlike Eliot’s, leapt and twirled in a vibrant and powerful dance. The performance read like a conversation: in one brilliant moment a train hooted as it passed by to take the sound to the back of the space – bringing an inevitable reply from the hooters, horns and sirens – as if the performance had merged fleetingly and indistinguishably with reality. This was followed by a breathtaking pyrotechnic tennis match that lurched from one side of the site to the other – horizontal fireworks whistled like sparks along fuses that ignited the booming machine-gun like clatter of the titanic Large Hot Pipe Organ. All in all, it was supremely balanced, carrying off a thoughtful intensity and a grandeur which was never self-important nor lacking in attention to detail. It was hard to tell whether it was just the smoke or the moving power of the performance that had brought the tears to my eyes. I may well have left with a stinging retina, ringing eardrums and an irregular heartbeat, but it felt like being blasted into life.

I’m sorry scouser didn’t enjoy it, and he should, perhaps, count himself lucky that he didn’t go on Friday as they’d edited it down (from almost 90 to under 50 minutes for the whole show).

My congratulations to all concerned, and as the original text says, it’s a pity this was part of Artsfest rather than being an event in its own right. Perhaps some of the people at Centenary Square would have attended this instead! (I made it to Centenary Square in time for the end of the concert and frankly, wasn’t half as impressed as I had been with Blast!)

If anyone’s interested (plugging it really isn’t the point of this post) I have uploaded to YouTube a few clips from my mediocre recording (click on my name)

If not art, then theatre perhaps?

In any case, I’m glad I saw/heard/smelt it!

Also, those big fire towers reminded of Blade Runner. Which is always a good thing. Always.

It was great- it reminded me of my horrible commute to school- South Brum to the North; where I would use the rhythms of the train movements for compositions to enhance my journey. I never got round to using the idea during my music studies and after seeing tonight’s performance I don’t need to.

I loved the haunting harmonies that came from the steam whistles- ghost like, ethereal and melancholy.

It made me proud to be a Brummie. I wish it had been marketed better- I felt guilty not being able to share the experience with more of my friends.

Carparking?