Monday 4 November 2013

Freshers Ball with Scott Mills

Well its been a bit of a while since we last chimed in, and busy we have most certainly been! So the great syndication that was birthed as a result of working with Bristol's super club has been truly expanded and evolved. They were gagging to have us back! And we couldn't resist their temptation... Freshers week turns Bristol into a bit of a student feeding frenzy and we were in the air as bait again, luring in the soon-to-be-loaded-with-'free'-cash revellers from The City's multiple universities. Plenty of fresh meat for our bass-oozing grinder. Rolling in with our usual display of aerial wizardry we had our graceful beauties up in the air watching over the dance floor, the nutter in slings as usual, and our goddess Elena in the hoop taking all the attention away from the supposed highlight of the night: Radio 1's Scott Mills! We swiftly stole the role of protagonist by performing our horizontal acrobatic wall-running piece to a stomper of a tune and left our imprint in the groggy, hung-over memories of all of Bristol's brightest future stars.























Sunday 4 August 2013

Get Sexy

A great syndication hath birthed itself in truly universally synchronized style. Introducing an incredible venue of which we are proud to be residents at, big tops aside, the magnificent Syndicate nightclub in Bristol is an aerialists wet dream, especially if that aerialist happens to be a massive raver! Equipped with a dazzling array of high-tech lighting wonders, this venue is an absolute treat to work in. Syndicate has most certainly demonstrated its potential for easily becoming one of Bristol's finest live entertainment venues. The staff down there are completely on it, lively, involved, and eager to create fantastic shows, which is right up our avenue basically! So we are convinced that a really prosperous relationship has been born. They asked us to come in and get involved with one of their nights, Get Sexy's, second birthday. Seems a bit young to us for what we had planned... But who are we to be hypocrites! What a treat of an evening it was for the punters! We had stunners hanging out in silk hammocks, a sensual hoop show in the middle of the dance floor, a nutter on slings womping to jungle, and an epic, high-octane wall-run above the crowd! They've already invited us back for a number of dates before the year is out, including a Halloween show and possible Christmas party! Great things agwon friends.

Again, pictures say it better than we could, so massive thanks to Jack and James (motion-stop.com) for their handy camera work in capturing the spectacle as they did:
















Saturday 3 August 2013

UBU Summer Ball

So what do you call a large group of students in a field with big tops and fareground rides, bands and DJ's, games and circus? Not a festival apparently... UBU Summer BALL heralded a great success for the Basstrology movement. They were tantalized by the prospect of our production abilities, and The Wall stood among the scene with distinction and grace. As a prototype, our vertical stage passed her first audition with flying, trippy colours and embraced the judgement of the elements, including deep saturation and near gale-force winds, all whilst nestled in the cosy nether regions of Leigh Court Estate. Pictures say more than any sort of rant we could come up with here at Basstrology so let us continue the rest of this blog in a format much more descriptive and easier to digest than our words.

To see a video of the performance please click here.








Friday 7 June 2013

Sheep

The sheep! The sheep... oh my god the sheep! Relentless in their misery! BEEErrrrrrrrarrgh! BAAAAAAEEEEEEAAARRRRGH! Beeeeaaaaaaarrrrggh! BAAAAAAAAAAEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAEEERRRGGGGGGHHH! Its like they're bickering among them selves as to how shit their lives are. Ironic that these creatures should be the back drop melody to a movement so proud of its musical stance. How completely irritating and uninspiring. Man I fucking hate sheep. There are literally hundreds of acres around me dedicated to the presence of these annoying little bastards. Inescapable. It makes my blood boil. They've got it better than a lot of people I know. And my don't they like to shout about it. BLEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGHHH! Really mate? That's nice, but you don't seem too pleased about that one. I can only begin to imagine the magnitude of beautiful, wondrous, permaculturally provided nutrition such space could provide for a significant amount of people - enough to make it count - before i'm having a stare-off with a little tosser who looks a little something like this:



BLLLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREeeeeeeehhhhh! It is somewhat hilarious for me, on a way beyond a joke kinda level. This perfect, beautiful irony, this incessant bleeting, constantly reminding me of why I'm doing this in the first place. BllleerMeeeaaaaaaEHEHEHEHEAHEAHEAHEA! Honestly... you don't understand dear reader... or do you? I mean, have you ever actually had to endure a field of sheep before? Have you ever actually stood directly next to a massive zombie horde of those psychotic, pathetic little whingers before, and taken a moment to consider what they discuss? they are in agony man! BLLLEEEEUUUURRRRRRGGGGH! GOD I HATE YOU! They must be in pain, surely. I'm in agony just hearing them. let me tell you, being a sheep must probably be one of the most miserable fates I can imagine.

Tuesday 4 June 2013

The Wall

The Wall

A primary necessity when containing the live stock. Fences and walls to confine us with designated ideals and blind conformity, stop the imagination straying too far... Our wall is much more fun, designed to encourage freedom, perspective, and creativity. Where some would perhaps see a border or barricade, we see a picture waiting to be painted, our bodies as the brush and music as the pinnacle. 'Circus' has become increasingly popular over the past few years, and in accordance with such crazes our ingenuity must raise to greater levels, further distorting the details behind what this strange art actually is. As aerialists it is our art to turn any old rigging into a place to hang or swing. The beauty of physics applied to depict the divine directive, right? Here at Basstrology we pride ourselves on the fact that we can turn old industrious residue into a fully functioning performance platform for any and all to release their perspectives.

Artistry exists on all levels. Without the stone-hard brilliance of other elements, lesser known to the public eye, the fire would never burn. So lets take a first look at one of our aerial disciplines: Wall-running. If you don't know what it is here is a [link to video of wall running] As simple as it sounds: you essentially move along a wall attached via a harness and enjoy the physics. Great fun! But first you need a wall. As surprising as it sounds walls aren't generally equipped with masses of scaffold rigging attached to them for nutters to jump around on. Alas, we are forced to create our own space for recreation. In a chicken shed. 'Shed' doesn't really do the structure justice to be fair. Its massive, and the only chicken that remains is the shit that covers the floor, contributing to the humming smell of death that fills the air. Mmmmm. Perfect place to choreograph horizontal dance routines to womping bass. Expertly over-engineered, The Wall can be put together to a variety of sizes and different uses. It is mounted to a powerful hybrid frame of aluminium and steel using secret techniques and craftsmanship. The first commission is the UBU Summer ball arriving shortly and seems to have so far been blessed with a warm welcome from merry old Sol, finally arriving with the great wisdom he radiates. Thank you father. To be honest the weather forecasting outlets we frequent don't seem to have a clue what they're chatting about any more. Did they ever? Regardless, come rain or wine, we look forward to helping lots of pissed up students commencing their summer with a beautiful demonstration of prowess, ability and entertainment! They are worthy of the soothing messy basslines of hectic breaks! And the floaty-ninja-insect beings cascading elegantly into the air from our trippy, projection-illuminated masterpiece of carpentry and engineering! Praise be to the magnificence of spectacle! Amen.

We'll be sure to capture the experience as best we can to express it through this inter-webbed medium.
Below are pictures of The Wall phase 1, soon to be decked in white; the a fore mentioned chicken 'shed'; a really annoying water pipe line that would definitely come in handy if we were to suddenly burst into flames; and some fitty up high making the whole ordeal look very enticing. We'll leave you to decide which of these two fine strappers that is...

Fiddling with wires pretending to do something other than just stand there being high

The wall in all its fitty adorned glory... yes please

Monday 20 May 2013

The Living Story.

That being essentially what this is: a living story. It's unfolding now. Whether or not it is spoken about once it has passed, who is to say? But right now it is occurring, and for how long it continues is down only to the protagonists who sustain it. The players keep the game alive. But first you have to build the play ground, for that is one of the core fundamentals behind existence, and thus of Basstrology: Fun. Nature is a hedonist.  What was it about somebody saying something about being born into perfection and learning mediocrity? It feels strange that we should have to work so hard just to feel normal.... So what are we working on? Well basically, we're building a circus! Why run away to one when you can wack one up in your garden instead. Well, not necessarily a garden exactly, more a field to be precise. And as great stories often do, this one begins on little farm in wales. First step, construction.


So the rough plan is pretty much loads of hectic shit going on all over the shot to womping music. Thinking circus, what do we need? Well, first step is obviously a tent. So dear universe, please manifest. It wasn't long after Basstrology was born that it just so happened that a friend of ours wanted to get rid of a gert marquee and offered to us cheap... bingo! First stage complete. Its 12 x 6 meters, plenty room enough to get a party going. A bit grubby but then so are we. We thought of it as more of a blank canvas, a holding space for greater potential. lets face it, in this wet climate people are gonna need a place of refuge, especially in our target location of little grime pockets at festivals of unknown significance to prey on the unsuspecting mind of the common people. Bliss. However, this tale is not without its great tragedies and misfortune... some silly tossers opted not to peg the massive ship sails to the murky welsh hills, and during what turned out to be a pretty chilly and  intense blizzard the tent was lost, blown into a frozen, submerged slumber down by the stream to await out the frozen winter months. A devastating blow to momentum. The instafix we all cluck for was to be inevitably postponed by the firm hand of tribulation. But these trials are just a test, and we would resume the mission in whatever means possible. Nobody wants to be swinging around in the freezing cold. An old man was on stand by to drag the ton of metal and canvas out as soon as the snow has subsided and the heavy rain has ceased. There is always plenty to be getting on with, and through the damage of the tents relative destruction we were drawn to consider now a much more interesting evolution in Basstrologys construction. After all, the correct path is never straight and narrow, for otherwise how would one learn? The blank canvas was only ever to be expanded, and the mighty nature of the universe depicted that a simple marquee was never really going to harness the true magnitude of itself. Crush this puny temporary structure so that it may be re-born from the ashes of stupidity with scaffolding and resourcefulness as a stronger entity, forged from higher elements with evolved power!

Await merry old Sol, for His beaming smile always awaits beyond the horizons guidance. The future is ours to behold.


Cole welcoming the morning sun