I began this as a gig review for London-based experimental ambient singer, ‘feeo’ (aka Theodora Laird). However, I quickly realised the majority of my article would be spent highlighting the concert’s venue, rather than the music itself, so I had to take a bit of a pivot. I adored the concert, but the venue was something indescribably magical.
Attending independent music gigs in Edinburgh is an experience I often liken to panning for gold: often, you come up dry. Due to this, I was hesitant going into this gig. However, my friends were attending, I had the night free, and I had already purchased my ticket, so I figured it couldn’t hurt. After the live performance, I’m pleased and proud to say that my initial thoughts on Laird’s music could not have been further from the truth.
Upon entering the Pianodrome, itself situated within a converted church, we are surrounded by the ambient instrumentals, drone, and occasional verbal tracks of Edinburgh’s own Daksh (a local DJ-ing gem with whom it’s very likely you’re familiar, especially if you frequent Sneaky Pete’s). This audible aura envelopes us, demanding that we focus on the immediate present. The sounds bounce off the church’s high, arched ceilings and stone walls, before lasering toward the building’s hurricane eye, the very Pianodrome itself: an in-the-round, step-tiered setup of repurposed old pianos. Concert-goers can borrow pillows and blankets, as well as take free cups of tea (donations welcomed), before sitting down to stare into the music, and at each other. It is an entirely human experience (regrettably rare in most modern concert environments) that reminds us that music is meant to be shared. The setup is incredibly intimate and self-aware, celebrating music through space. Daksh ends his set, and feeo takes the stage without a beat of pause, accompanied on bass and guitar by her frequent collaborator, Caius Williams. To Daksh’s entrée, feeo forms the show’s rich and satisfying main course. I get up to use the toilet partway through, but upon returning, I cannot retake my seat; it feels as though I’d be disrupting something of near-religious tenor. feeo sings and simultaneously live-mixes an ambient, drone-filled backdrop, vulnerably inviting listeners into the often heart-wrenching world she constructs before our eyes.
As promised, I’ll again turn my focus back onto the space. Tucked away discreetly on a side street behind Brunstfield’s new Black Sheep coffee (side-eye), the Pianodrome is the type of community space Edinburgh desperately needs more of. Hosting day and night-time shows, highlighting local folk artists, and a community cafe. The Brunstfield location marks the newest expansion of the 2016-launched brainchild of local sculpture-artist Tim Vincent-Smith. The project’s first installation was 2017’s outdoor “Baby Pianodrome” in Bruntsfield’s “Forge” creative space, after which various Pianodromes and piano-focused upcycling art installations were built around the UK and, in 2023 extended all the way to the USA. Despite rapid project growth and geographic diversity, the values of community, the arts, and upcycling renewal run consistently throughout, with music as a cultural glue.
In all, I feel it’s safe to say I thoroughly enjoyed my time at the Pianodrome. If you take away anything from reading this, I hope it’s nothing but a surprisingly urgent need to sit in an old, cold church on an old, cold piano and experience the magic of community connection come to life through sound. And also, maybe a quick look over to feeo’s excellent discography.
Image by Ulia Makoveeva for The Student