by Anne Aaker
Over the last four years, the work of Lykanthea's Lakshmi Ramgopal has transformed from explorations of electro-ambient pop idioms into expansive performances and installations. Her debut EP Migration garnered praise from Noisey, Chicago Tribune, and Public Radio International's "The World" for its alchemy of synths, catchy melodies, and Carnatic improvisatory techniques. The record led to a European tour, Leipzig's Wave-Gotik Treffen, and an opening performance for the 50th anniversary celebrations of Chicago's Museum of Contemporary Art (and amid all this, she completed a PhD as a Fellow at the American Academy in Rome). Her latest audio art projects accompany multidisciplinary ensemble shows that herald a shift in Ramgopal's storytelling—one that eschews cold electronics and embraces the warmth of the sruti box, unprocessed vocals, and performance art and dance.
ALL Review: Tell about how you began making music? What is your artistic origin story?
Lakshmi Ramgopal: I've been working with music and dance since I was a kid. I studied Carnatic vocal music through elementary and middle school as well as the flute and violin. I was also a Bharatanatyam dancer for nearly a decade, up until I went to high school. In college I decided to write original music, so I taught myself to play the guitar and was a member of some riot grrrl influenced projects for a while. After that I made the switch to electronic pop, and after that, began my Lykanthea project, which currently incorporates electronics, instruments used in Carnatic music, and movement influenced by Bharatanatyam and other Indian movement traditions.
ALL: In your career as a musician, you've performed on the same stage as Lupe Fiasco, Jamila Woods, and Billy Corgan. Are there ways in which your trajectory has surprised you?
LR: I never expected to do installation work, which is a recent development in my art practice, play on bills that included high profile artists, or get press in Noisey or from Public Radio International's "The World." Calling myself an artist never crossed my mind until a few years ago. Now I can't imagine spending most of my time any other way. I'd say the biggest surprise, though, is that I've been able to pull off being a serious artist and academic simultaneously for more than ten years now. It requires a lot of stamina and luck, and I hope neither runs out soon!
ALL: Tell us about the experience of creating your recent sound installation at Chicago's Lincoln Park Conservatory, A Half-Light Chorus. It's such a thrilling, alive composition. How did that project come together?
LR: A Half-Light Chorus is a sound installation I created for Florasonic, an installation series that Chicago's Experimental Sound Studio maintains in the Fern Room of the city's Lincoln Park Conservatory. ESS commissioned the installation from me earlier this year.
My installation consisted of a 90-minute, four-channel composition featuring recordings of vocalists imitating birds from India and found in Sanskrit literature (including one mythological bird) that immersed the room in a range of sounds that reflected the rhythms and patterns of Indian avian bioacoustics. The sound was accompanied by signs around the room indicating the names of the birds--including the mythological bird!--their Latin scientific names, and region of origin. The performances that bookended the installation's duration were the most ambitious ensemble performances I've directed, choreographed, and composed for, since they included a big group of musicians and dancers. Both explored avian motifs in the Indian sound and movement traditions of my childhood, as well as Tamil and Hindi film songs from the 90s.
ALL: Your music evokes such a soothing, allaying atmosphere. How did you find your musical "voice?" Do the pieces you write ever come out completely differently from how you imagined?
LR: Drones are integral to Carnatic music, so returning to them by delving into composing and performing ambient electronic and acoustic music was a more of a return to my natural voice and the sounds of my upbringing. That said, I'm also very influenced by where I'm writing. So, for example, I wrote much of my first EP, Migration, while living and doing research for my PhD thesis on Delos, a mostly uninhabited island near Mykonos, Greece. The dreamy atmosphere of the island absolutely made its way into the songs. I improvise when I'm in the writing stage, so a lot of what emerges and ends up in recorded format is different from what I anticipated. It's one of my favorite aspects of composition.
ALL: The next Lykanthea album is due out this year—are there further artistic projects on the horizon? What else are you working on now?
LR: More like early 2019! I'm unexpectedly starting a job at Harvard as a postdoc, so I need a little time to settle into that and catch up on recording the EP, which is behind schedule because of my installation work this year. I'm developing a visual art practice focused on weaving and illuminated manuscripts. It's in its infancy so I can't say much yet, apart from the fact that it has been a great challenge to explore and that I hope to share some of it in group and solo gallery shows in the next few years. I'm also hoping that another European tour for Lykanthea is on the horizon.
