STEVEN WILSON

An ‘Evening With’ gets inside the minds of Wilson’s collaborators.

Though the increased amount of digital platforms available have offered consumers greater choices in terms of delivery outlets, the compression of audiovisual data has always left fans wanting. One suspects that no-one is more aware of this than Steven Wilson, whose attention to sonic detail has extended beyond his own catalogue and into that of the cultural milestones. And, as evidenced by his Blu-ray releases, he’s also taken as much care in the visual representation of his work to create a 360-degree package that encompasses all the facets of his output.

Routine – The Visual World Of Steven Wilson – a one-nightonly cinematic experience presenting a selection of his videos and conversations with director Lasse Hoile and animator

Jess Cope – is the next logical step. By removing the videos from their default domains of the TV and the ubiquitous YouTube and placing them on the big screen with nearconcert level sound, Wilson’s output is given a whole new perspective with an accompanying commentary and analysis.

Well, to a point. Jokingly introduced by Wilson as a “twohour descent into misery”, the evening is divided into two distinct halves, with each highlighting selected collaborations between the musician and the filmmakers. In broad terms, Hoile’s videos deal with Wilson’s concerns over the human condition while Cope’s stunning animations largely focus on internalised emotions, most notably grief and bereavement.

Hoile’s The Same Asylum As Before – previously seen only as part of the To The Bone tour and online – is revealed as a meditation on the stupidity of humanity and its neverending failure to learn from past mistakes. Elsewhere we learn that Harmony Korine is drawn from the works of Luis Buñuel and Andrei Tarkovsky among others, as the video to Truth doffs its cap to the political thriller The Parallax View.

Particularly striking are Jess Cope’s animations dealing with the nature of sorrow as a result of mortality. Both The Raven That Refused To Sing and Drive Home hit hard, but it’s the methodically unfolding Routine that’s affecting at the deepest level with a stunning mid-point reveal.

With Wilson too closely involved with his collaborators, the Q&A portion of the show would’ve benefitted from an independent interlocutor for greater insight. All too often, Hoile is left in Wilson’s shadow, while Cope’s conversational off-roading becomes distracting, and it’s with the audience’s questions that the most satisfying answers from the filmmakers are given. This aside, though, the transference of medium breathes new life into a stunning body of work.

WILSON’S OUTPUT IS GIVEN A WHOLE NEW

PERSPECTIVE.