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We tried to be arty farty, but got bored after a while.

Photos and video: César Ortiz

Event: RYTM und MELODI – Ru.M#1 – Inkonst, Bergsgatan 29
Date: Thursday, 22 March ‘13
DJs: Nordbeck & Pojke VS Apa
Artists: Ariel Alaniz, Anders Smolka
Genre: Minimal synth, 80s electro, psychedelic confusion
Our rating: 3 / 5 The thing about art events in Malmö is that not everyone knows what the fuck is going on.

Buddha Mag was invited to RYTM und MELODI (we’re not sure why they spell it this way) and was promised a treat for the senses. Well, it kinda was.

We were first greeted by cardboard boxes hanging precariously from the ceiling, complemented by semi-psychedelic light projection that made us feel like we had just stepped into the set of Blade Runner – upside down.

As sophisticated art connoisseurs, we tried our best to look like we were deep in thought. We stroked our chins and nodded slowly in an attempt to hide our cluelessness. The only clever comment that I made to Cesar was, “I think it’s kinda pretty”.

I felt like an ape.

We headed to the bar for some inspiration, and after a pint (or two, or three?), we managed to grab the artists for a chat.

Ariel Alaniz is an Argentinian-born installation artist and sculptor based in Malmö. His humble appearance and deep-set eyes gave us the impression that his art had a lot more to it than what met our neanderthal eyes. He told us that his intention of using packaging boxes from everyday brands like Skånemejerier, was to convey the pervasive consumerism that has consumed our lives. The hanging jungle of ugly boxes wasn’t made to look pretty, it was created to make us feel uncomfortable. And to cast another layer of fuck-you to consumerism, Anders Smolka subtlety projected a constellation of bar codes on the boxes. Sneaky.

We sat down with him and asked about his inspiration behind the lights. He gave us 2 words: folding space. He draws beautiful patterns from the most common objects around us, everything from plants to tyre tracks.

We looked at him blankly as our combobulated heads tried to figure out the deepness of it all. It was rather impressive.

And then we turned our attention to the crowd. They all seemed to know why they were there. They all looked like they belonged. Some were sitting alone with their iPhones, probably using some app on existentialism.

It was all too civilised, too tame.

The tunes were not something we could dance to. Believe us, we tried. And with only 2 of us on the dance floor, we were quickly encouraged to return to our seats and bob our heads gently. It was a mix of minimal synth, jumbled up with psychedelic sounds, and it all came across as a tumult of confusion with an artful lack of energy.

We got in at 9:30, and by 11ish, we were done. We got bored. This didn’t turn out to be our kind of party. And so we had to make it up to ourselves by dancing our way home.