Gong Library

Sh’ Bang, Sh’ Gong
The Light Wheel and Gong Library
Emergent Playroom

Sh’Bang is a festival of ideas, where there is an an unfolding of experience. An all inclusive celebration of arts, music, theatre, and interactive happenings that takes place at the Lookouts Quarry just outside of Bellingham, Washington. This festival, which has been running for 14 years, is a kind of temporal being wedged between the dates August 30th to September 1st 2024. Within these days there is a variety of experiences merging together, from live music, absurd and provocative cabarets, undefinable puppetry, burlesque, mime, magic, dance, acrobats, aerial, soapbox derby, weddings, poetry, open mic, funeral service, and interactive engagements. It’s a festival put on by volunteers for the love of the creative act. The festival is alive like a living organism—wild, chaotic, and full of potential. Built on an ethos of collaboration, it's a festival by creatives, for creatives, to seek inspiration and experimentation. Each moment, each interaction, invites participation, regardless of age or background. The 3-day festival acts as a metaphor for the inherent freedom, curiosity, and love of the potential of the human spirit. 
I was inspired to attend this festival, to particpate beyond my ordinary perceptions and connect with a shared sense of oscillation in this continuous process we call life. Radical participation, right? What are the rhythms we're working with, and how do we collectively pulse as one, as we feed back and forth from the individual to the communal?

The Lookouts Quarry is the site of Sh’bang and is on private land that is home to a varied group of artists who live here year-round. It's anchored in a communal spirit, where during the summer months the community expands as more creatives join. It's a place of artist residencies, training, gardening, nature, and collaborations. The festival is a collective undertaking that facilitates the creative impulse and the immediacy of lived experience that have shaped this space over a decade.
The Project:
I was moved to contribute to this year's Sh’Bang festival. We applied as an interactive art installation. I joined forces with my friend George Berking (Orbweavers Collective) who co-created a 10-foot interactive Light Wheel — a towering sculpture that dances with the interplay of light and form. It encourages audience participation— when the wheel spins, it creates these mesmerizing interlocking moiré patterns.

I have been nurturing a project of my own—the Hypha Arts —Gong Library, located in the Hypha Art space in East Vancouver, Canada. The library is a work-in-progress, modular sound room. We have various gongs, cymbals, drums, resonating instruments, electronics, and various objects. We invite people from various backgrounds and sensibilities, through chance encounters, to come engage with the instruments, play together, and sink into a shared time and space. We document these happenings, these conversations, these interactions—these musical and non-musical forms. We aim to create conditions for emergence, to connect with each other, and to facilitate the evolution and materialization of ideas into form. It's a circular feedback system, based on shared values and principles.

The Light Wheel and Gong Library:

George and I dreamed up a fusion of these two projects, to create a space where festival goers could engage with both sounds and light. We were making a petri-dish, experimenting with conditions.
To allow interaction with these instruments, the light sculpture — to bask in absorption, and in the moment collaboration of shared experience. We went into this installation without a preconceived notion of what was to take place. There were no performance times, no set times, no apparent rules. Instead it was a practice to allow emergence to organically happen and give rise to new modes of experience We wanted to embrace spontaneity and the creative vital of the people we would encounter. An intention to create an environment that would allow connection, collaboration, warmth and invitation. A space that was safe and stimulating. The light sculpture’s illumining presence was the gateway in, and when festival goers would come they would be welcomed by a curated collection of a eclectic arrangements of instruments, which ranged from gongs, drums, cymbals, amped microphones, bells, and whistles. What delight — what surprise!
The only thing we did have in mind was to curate an Imaginal Plane Airlines experience—where we take festival goers on an immersive sound, mind and embodiment trip. Our aim was to expand the range of the imagination and to cultivate a state of being where the boundaries between the “real” and the “imaginal” become porous. It is a state to allow for the emergence of new possibilities and transformation of rigid and challenging states of mind. This was a round-trip flight to the world of “annealing”. 
Setup Thursday and Friday:
We began our journey on Thursday. Two vehicles packed, roof rack stacked with the light wheel and the van jammed with the gong library goods. We crossed the border into the United States, navigating the necessary formalities with care. We are mindful of the delicate dance that is required when bringing anything that may suggest we are performers, in order to avoid any complications that may arise.
“Where are you heading?” the officer implored.
“Camping trip outside of Bellingham”, we replied.
“What’s on the roof?”
“A sculpture.”
“You camp with a sculpture?”
“Yes, we are artists.”
“Do you have any drugs?”
“No”
“Okay, enjoy your trip.”
We arrived at the Lookout’s Quarry in the early evening as the sun began its daily downward ritual. The darkened sky pressed us into work mode. The construction of the Light Wheel was no small task. It required 10 hours of intricate setup. Under the dimming light we were assisted by George’s brother Harry. Harry, the avid climber, who was new to these types of festivals, enthusiastically joined our endeavor, he brought his technical skills, for which this project would not have happened. It was a powerful trifecta of our diverse skill set that was able to pull this whole thing off. We worked tirelessly into the night, until it became clear that the remaining work would have to be completed in the morning.

When the sun rose, we were determined to see the installation through to completion before the trickling in of the festival goers. The final stages went smoothly as each component of the sculpture found its place and the gong library found it’s spot.

Friday Gates Open:
The first day of the festival unfolded slowly. It would be the calm before the wildness of the days to follow. Friday's subdued energy was masked by the arriving of the people acquainting themselves to the land. There was a certain rhythm to these types of gatherings, and it takes a bit of time to transition from the routine patterns of the default world. 

The flow of visitors to our space was steady. We met curious souls who inquired about the instruments. I played some sounds and encouraged them to play as well. We were waking up the space, connecting with each other, conjuring up unfamiliar soundscapes. Curious to what was to come.

Among the early explorers were several fascinating characters. One such individual was a striking man dressed in leather who had curled horns adorned on his head. He had this devilish air, which was quite captivating, and someone who I may not have interacted with if it wasn't for our interactive installation. His childlike curiosity about the sounds he was hearing, from the deep earth-ripping sounds, made by pulling out the sound waves, by the friction mallet of the giant Atlantis Chao Gong and the outward vibrations of the big Gamelan gong, which produced the lower bass tones, which were grounding and expansive. His eyes widened in awe, evoking a sense of the cosmic. I asked with a twinkle in my eye if he wanted to embark on a journey to the underworld. “Of course!”, he replied. “I have a feeling you are no such stranger to those lands.” I inquired back. “I am familiar with such terrain!” I encouraged him to come tomorrow, and we would sherpa him down. Delighted he was. Our connection was immediate. We continued speaking of sounds as a vehicle of inner exploration, a tool we can use to travel to the hidden realms of the psyche.  How experiences like this can facilitate movement between the boundaries of the known and unknown. This was the beginning, of what the magic this space could be, the strange and wonderful interactions with people who we may not normally connect with, either at this event or in our regular daily lives. The shared emergent experience was starting to take place, the space between artist and participant blurred.

Late Friday, early Saturday morning, we ventured away from our installation and took in the sights of the festival. After a few hours away, when we returned to the site, we were greeted by a beautiful moment of three friends who, we later learned, were scheduled to play at the festival, playing these intricate rhythms on the floor gongs. “ahhh,” this is it, people finding the space, playing with the instruments without any mediation. The friends were tapped in! Interlocking rhythms, sensitivity to the instruments, an improvisational flow state. We knew we wanted to run our Imaginal Plane Airlines flight on Saturday and noticed when these three friends playing the instruments with the other stages shut down for the night, we could hear the instruments clear. Previously, sound bleed from nearby stages had limited the sonic immersion that visitors to the gong library could experience. We looked at the festival schedule and found that between 3-4 pm on Saturday, there was an empty window of no performances planned, and that would make for an ideal time for our inaugural flight. Knowing this, we invited these 3 friends to join our flight as musicians. Not only were we looking for passengers, we were looking for players for the onboard gong orchestra. 
Saturday Experience: Imaginal Plane Airline
Saturday arrived. “Ah, the big day,” I thought. There was a sense of anticipation in the air, on to what was to unfold. What characters we were to meet. We were eager to channel our collective energy into the Imaginal Plane Airlines flight. It was still early, and every time I met someone on our grazing, I would invite them to join us for the trip. This was organized with no formal announcement but through the organic spread of word-of-mouth.
3 pm was soon approaching, and I realized how meaningful it would be to have other musicians or those that had curiosity for sound to join our ensemble. At the time we had Irene, a talented violinist who has been collaborating with the Gong Library for some time. George was also an eager member of the ensemble; he had recently taken up playing and learning the saw, diving deeper into its strange and provocative sounds. Then we had Harry; he had never touched any of these instruments before, but his enthusiasm and drive were a favourable addition to the ensemble. This was our crew, and there were more instruments than players, more potential than action. The invitation floated in the air for sound makers to answer the call to join this in-the-moment happening. Then they appeared. Paul, a musician from Vancouver, joined us, and China an experimental musician based in Washington, who had been sitting under the shade of the light sculpture, joined. As well as Sepehr. The 3 friends we met on Friday, eager to join, came by but our flight takeoff was getting delayed by an hour, and this prevented them from joining. All was well, we had our orchestra.
We had a short practice session. It was a moment to align our intentions and establish a shared framework for the flight. This was not a freeform gong playing session. The score  was inspired by the metaphor of annealing. This is a process in metallurgy where metals are heated and cooled to relieve stress and restore balance. We reconceptualized this process into a guided imaginal flight trip. To connect the mind, body, with sounds and the imagination. To experience a type of annealing for the human psyche.

I developed a musical/theatrical score that reflected the different stages of the annealing process. Each phase represented a change in energy in the process. We began with "low heat," gentle and receptive rhythms, creating a state of calm, stability, and absorption. Then we moved to "medium heat"; here the rhythms and sounds began to diversify as the intensity gradually increased. Then we reached "high heat," a stage of chaotic energy, complexity, and volume. During this phase, the space pulsed with sound. This was the stage of transformation, where the annealing would take place. As we hit the crescendo, the sounds of the violin emerged as we would then enter the "cooling" stage. A gradual slope of relaxation, softening, allowing for a period of integration and reflection.
In leading past flights, I typically take the role of a flight attendant; this time, I took on being a pilot, conducting the musicians through the stages of the score. I had to verbalize each transition to keep the flight on track. Usually, I rely on a deep intuitive connection when playing with familiar musicians. However, this was challenged as this was a new group, there was a structure to it that needed clarity and direction. This reinforced the importance of having a clear score, a compass, to ground a structured improvisation session and help facilitate coherence in the experience.
We had the ensemble, and we had completed a dry run. However, there was no passengers. Then Kate appeared, a friend. She was our first flyer, and at the time, we thought maybe she would be our only flyer. A VIP trip we exclaimed. We work with what we have. Realizing that this was the case, we decided to start the flight. “Welcome aboard passengers!”
We started with a single passenger. By the end of the trip, we had about 10 or more people jump on board. When we landed, we were delighted to hear the positive feedback from them and their interpretations of the interplay between the “real” and the “imaginal.” It also had a lingering effect on the ensemble, which echoed long after the festival, leaving traces of a memory of this organic creation.
Evening of Chaos and Play:
As the sun dipped, a vibrant energy began to swell the space we had cultivated. The quiet of the afternoon yielded to the high intensity that was beginning to transform this reverberating landscape. The previously sparse space became an activation portal of movement and play. People drawn in by the magnetic pull of the light sculpture and the backdrop of the sounds. It was packed! How do we navigate this delicate interplay between chaos and awareness of each other and the instruments—between freedom and responsibility.
At first I witnessed this whirlwind— the diverse spectrum of engagements among the participants. Some were moved with a quiet and reserved subtlety to the space and the instruments. Others seemed caught up in the fever of their newfound exuberance. Some would play with intensity that bordered on recklessness. Chaos! This was the electrifying atmosphere, the high-energy state, where change is possible and play is alive. This environment also risked disconnection and disorder.
In response, I found myself drawing upon my clown practice and its intuitive strategies. A craft that works on connection, spontaneity, and play, to allow the creation of a fantastic space between eachother. I was reluctant to impose disciplinary order through direct instruction. Instead, I sought to meet these curious minds through small or sometimes big playful gestures. I do not want to surpass their enthusiasm but redirect it towards a more shared experience. Don’t sonically masturbate in your own siloed world, share it, let’s weeee together. When I noticed someone playing an instrument without awareness, I would approach them and mimic their actions, sometimes exaggerating them to the point of absurdity. Sometimes I would catch their gaze in a moment of shared recognition and subtly redirect their behaviour. 
As I continued to interact with different participants, I found myself experimenting with new techniques—like rhythmically dampening the gongs with my body to create unexpected rhythms and soundscapes. The body became an instrument and a mallet. I could sense that my embodiment captured attention; it invited a more coherent happening that was both interesting to watch for viewers and engaging for the players. 
What was revealing about this process is we had no signs about the space, or rules or conditions on engaging with instruments. When people arrived, you would hear people ask, “are you allowed to play, how do you play, etc.?” This was an interesting experiment in how, we as people are constantly trying to navigate this world, what are the rules that are imposed and the ones we are navigating with. This was an open environment to see what would emerge, how we take responsibility for a space, to each other, to these instruments. One more point, people didn’t know who actually set this space up; when I was interacting and playing, most didn’t know that I was a part of the installation. This was a unique and exciting opportunity. It was our project, I had complete freedom in how I interacted in this space. People unaware they were entering into a live interactive theatre of life; I played the role of a clown and a faciliator. This allowed for deep and impactful connections when I engaged and played with people. I am looking for immediacy in the now, in the moment. Everyone represented a world to me, a character. I would be drawn to certain people to interact and play with them. Usually, it was individuals  that had this certain creative, chaotic energy. This was exciting for my inner clown. I had a moment with someone who imbued this intense vitality and we played in the unspoken game of chaos and sensitivity. In this process, we not only connected in play, but we started making an enjoyable experience both sonically and performatively. These are the new forms, I was hoping to discover. Bringing out chaotic, wild, imaginative energy and containing it, playing with it, in order for emergence to arise, something new. I had allegiance to the instruments and felt a responsibility to care for them, as well as my desire for the wild and playful exploration the space allowed—it was an act of surfing this polarity
This provided me with a valuable framework and insight on how to engage with attendees. Chaos, when approached with sensitivity and awareness, can become a powerful force for creativity and communal bonding. Chaos disrupts habitual patterns and challenges the comfortable. If caressed with a certain balance of sensitivity to the freedom of our expression, then we can benefit from the safety and positive circular feedback that emerges. To harness this energy to an evolution of support and care. This became the underlying rhythm of the evening. 
Sunday’s Closing Ceremony
Sunday brought a noticeable shift in energy. It was a gentler, more introspective atmosphere, in contrast to the high-energy pace Saturday evening brought. It was clear to us that a closing ceremony was needed. Something that could create a sense of completion to the space that we had activated. The Imaginal Plane Airlines flight served as the organic opening to the emergent phenomenon of imagination and spontaneous creation. It felt fitting to bring this journey to an intentional close. Being true to our nature, we alllowed it to unfold on its own, as we held this intention.
That evening, as the light in the air softened, a group of around 30–40 people naturally, over time, gathered. There was no formal announcement, but there were familiar faces we had seen through out 3 days. Ahhh, the resonance continued. The space had memory, whether you were a new, or someone who had made multiple appearances. The mood was calm and reflective. It was then I invited everyone to participate in Imaginal Airlines flight, something we would create together. This would be the closing flight. You could either choose an instrument and play, or you could listen and be a passenger. This was less formal than the first one. It was in-the-moment creation. Let’s try. I guided some people on the basics of playing certain instruments, and then we went on an annealing trip. The listening and the sensitivity to the sounds and each other were apparent. We finished, closed, and annealed!
We left the space open afterward, and at that point, I noticed how active the space was and the care that was being held there. One particular moment from this part of the evening involved a couple who entered the space, visibly dealing with some heaviness. They were struggling, as they were at some points howling, and with their anguish. This space provided them with soothing sounds that would cocoon them in gentle and sometimes dynamic vibrations. Other attendees at the time could be seen playing to them as this space now took on another role. Our space was not officially designed as a harm reduction zone. People who were in distress would find it and it became a sanctuary for them. It was a place of refuge and healing amidst the flow of the festival. It was a reminder that beyond the music and the creativity, that danced here, it also held something deeper. This place represented many things but at its core, it was the simple thing of being together. A place that could foster connection, understanding, and transformation. 
Sh’gonged at Sh’bang

Reflections and Future Plans:
Reflecting on the weekend, several key insights emerged:
How much value and resonance there is in creating an environment where emergent experience can organically unfold. Spontaneity of play can tap into a reservoir of creativity which may not have been reached through planned and scripted activities. 
How scripted and planned events can deepen people's experience. A leader may emerge naturally or be planned, but their presence can create a cohesive experience.
The power of art and music as a gateway to connection. These forms transcend language and can touch a person's emotions, spiritual essence, and other intuitive perceptions.
The value of co-creation and improvisation. The weekend underscored the significance of various improvisational practices, highlighting the potential of group art-making by inviting participants to contribute and share experiences. 
Balancing spontaneity with sensitivity and care. Chaos can be a catalyst for creativity, but when balanced with sensitivity, there's a wonderful tension to play with. This serves as a metaphor for how we relate to ourselves, our fellow inhabitants, and our environment.
The future:
Limit open access. Schedule dedicated play sessions.  We found a lot of people needed to learn basic playing techniques on certain instruments. This way, it protects the instruments. Or another version is there is always some one on site that understands the care of the instruments. 
Dedicating scheduled play sessions would also allow for more focused and intentional engagements. Invite different creatives from differeent artistic, theatrical or musical backgrounds – in making an improvisational piece.
Schedule set times for the Imaginal Airline Flights. 
Make the space modular and adaptable which would allow for greater adaptability for different environments, groups size or focused play sessions. This would help tailor the experience to the emergent needs that arise.
Continue to explore emergent experience and deepening connections.  Play, music, art and other theatrical intervention are the ingredients to push the boundaries of what is possible.
Final thoughts:
My name is Raj, and at the core of what I do is clown, and I use it as a relational tool to interface with life. Being on the team to create this installation, was creating an interactive theatre show that challenges our notion of reality. This life, we are actors, character made of many parts. Are we not acting in some scene. It may feel,  when we are in our regular default patterns, that version of the self, we are most familiar with, the ones we are most attached to, makes up the idea that this is me.---Or is it? Perhaps, it has been rehearsed so much, that it feels like it is. Theatre making — meaning making machines we are. Let’s go temporarily explore the edge of chaos, to disrupt our patterns so we may experience new possibilities. Let’s do it with lightness, sensitivity and care.


Thank you to our crew: George Berking, Harry Berking, Jeanette Bishop and Irene Senent // orbweaverscollective // hypha arts (Vancouver, BC Canada)
-raj