One hundred (plus a few extra) small, colourful, toy keyboards radiated out in concentric circles from a tiny lamp. Asuna, the creator and performer of 100 Keyboards, moved methodically within this circle for the ninety minute piece of music. His pattern was complex, as he thoughtfully looked for the next machine he wanted to engage, turned it on and then depressed a couple of keys with popsicle sticks in order to create continuous tones.

The keyboards are all battery-operated and were switched off, so the piece started in silence until Asuna activated each one over a long period of time. The sound then built from a faint, wavering drone to a dense and overwhelming pool of sound that the audience was submerged within. The fact that one hundred keyboards will never be perfectly in tune with each other is one of the elements which created this hypnotic sonic effect. Most of the notes that were used were D and A, with some E and G, added later to flesh out the tones. There were so many textures within the sound and whichever one my ears grasped onto at a particular moment proceeded to dominate and become aurally vast. At times the sound felt like metal shimmering in the sun—bright and strong and fluctuating.

The main musical experience is of undulating waves of similar drones, their reverberance and resonance creating what is known as a moiré effect for the ears. It is a strange and attractive chorus of sound.

As the piece started, it resembled the sound of an orchestra tuning up. I was reminded of the work of American composer Steve Reich, although the sound expert I attended with reported that it was more similar to the work of Charlemagne Palestine and La Monte Young. It was difficult not to be transported by the music, which was relaxing and meditative but also unsettling at times, due to its uncanny effects.

One of the many appealing parts of the performance was the freedom of movement allowed to the audience. Many chose to quickly leave their seats and walk slowly around the room in order to appreciate the different tones which emerged in each different location. The audience became a somewhat unified organism, and its decisions affected the way we personally interacted with the piece. After the initial period of exploration, the listeners made themselves comfortable; many lay on the floor. And as the piece progressed, the audience became bolder, creeping closer to the keyboards, where the sounds became increasingly loud and intense. Many of the resonating effects could also be manipulated by doing things like yawning or cupping hands behind ears.

100 Keyboards is a performance, as well as music and a sound art installation. The physical process of the artist was very much part of the experience, as he circumnavigated the wheel of keyboards, constantly inserting and removing his little wooden sticks, and creating a sense of anticipation and tension.

The two performances at the Russian Hall have passed, but the 2019 PuSh Festival in Vancouver has just started and will go until February 3rd.