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Susheela Raman – Tanpa Nama means ‘nameless’ in Indonesian. Unsure if there is any name for this music, this unruly song that asks how we can even imagine silence. A statue interrogates itself about what it can never reveal . A gong is being born in a backstreet foundry. In Gondrong Gunarto’s Joglo In Solo, silhouettes sit ready, the brass tongues of their gamelan drawn in a circle, as ceremony or centrifuge. All music is made in the presence of ghosts. Susheela Raman and Guitar-man Sam Mills are with them but present elsewhere. Wandering the sulphuric volcanic vapour clouds of the eerie Dieng Plateau. In England with South London drum legend Charles Hayward. In Paris with Kadek as she defiantly rides her exiled jathilan trance horse. The performance crosses time and space and only really happens when you the viewer watch it now. Its momentum builds and bursts into fragments, into bubbling pools of data, like some antique metal brain-bath, filling up with musical rain while it computes an answer which turns out be a solitary tree, which itself has look of question about how forms flicker in and out of being. Its a kind of symphony of happy chaos, of small resistances, a upsurge of spontaneous collective creative energy, an aftermath of laughing gongs.