rival consoles

Rival Consoles (aka Ryan Lee West) produces the kind of moody electronic music that’s impossible to ignore + hard to forget. It’s so strikingly cinematic that eve created our original insta reel with his track Odyssey. The British musician is currently touring his new album - Landscape from Memory - so we reached out to Ryan to talk music, film + photography.

Your latest album was described as ‘like a saturated photograph or an abstract painting daubed with bright splotches.’ Are you thinking in visual terms when you create?

Tell us about creating the track Odyssey. How did you know when it was complete?  

Odyssey constantly shifts between minor + major. It's quite hypnotic because it has this strong duality that runs throughout the whole song. I was inspired by wanting to create a very minimal palette of sounds with a clicky, fragmented aesthetic. For example, the intro is just a single note 'A' but articulated in lots of micro rhythms that give meaning alongside textured rhythms.

I was lucky that there was a moment of inspiration that led to a build-up section that not only seemed perfect after the opening idea, but also worked amazingly on top of the initial idea. I learned to layer simple + effective parts in this work + be resourceful with the material that already existed.

Unlike photographers, you perform your creations live. Do you see performance as a new, collaborative stage of creation – or something else?

I see performance as an inspirational place - a way of better understanding ideas. If you perform or even just play a piece of music in 100 different contexts it reveals something different each time. It's good to have fresh understanding of ideas [through performance], because it's very easy to overlook something magical.

What does performing add to the creative process that the studio environment doesn't?

Choices that feel more natural + aware. In a studio it's very easy to be confused or distracted by technique, process + ideas that might not be relevant. Performing is a very restricted moment - I only have two hands – so I decide to do something + that’s all that happens in that moment. It's much more focused.

I kind of believe music has no value at home or in a studio. It only makes sense in a context of other people. You’re vulnerable when you share your ideas to a room full of strangers. You take a risk + become aware of things in the music you didn't see before. Things that felt insignificant become significant + things you believed to be very interesting can seem flat + motionless.

Your recent Dark Mofo performance of Landscape from Memory with Sky Ainsbury's visuals was described as a ‘euphoric + cinematic audiovisual experience’. How do you approach that collaboration?

I like the music + visuals to explore different sensations, from soft + ambient like James Turrell to chaotic abstract works like David Lynch. I want the show to be exciting + intense in moments, gentle + moving in others.

We spend a lot of time thinking about the kind of material we can use in different moments + why, but in the show everything is improvised visually around a framework of ideas. It's always breathing with the show – it's not a perfect playback approach.

It was an honour to be invited to play a festival like Dark Mofo on the other side of the world (Tasmania), especially as the festival allows artists to show what they really believe in + encourage different perspectives.

I’m very lucky to have a fan base that’s allowed me to play venues like that + like the Barbican, which was probably one of the more meaningful experiences of my life. Coming to London as nothing + then playing to a sold-out room there - it really means something.

How do you think about the relationship between what the audience sees + hears?

I like art to be playful + full of contrast, so there is always a sense of that. I want the audience to be pulled into the works + forget about things + be moved emotionally. I don't try to force this, but I hope the way the works shift + move creates an emotional experience. Music dictates the visual narrative to some extent, but I am a very visual thinking maker so heavy imagery is already in my music.

You've cited as influences Ligeti's music in 2001: A Space Odyssey, the opening of Alien, Vertigo's credits, the film Under the Skin. What are you currently drawn to? 

I just visited China + happened to see Fragrant River by Yang Fudong – an incredible selection of black + white filmed moments in rural China. About 15 screens that you could walk around. Every single shot was a masterpiece. 

Your album Persona was directly inspired by Bergman's classic 1966 film. It’s a film with a particular style + emotional resonance. What is it about Persona?

At the time I was suffering with various mental health issues. When you see a film like that you feel the heaviness of it – both scary but also illuminating. I like how the film is playful with what it is to be human + asks questions, but doesn't force you to have an exact answer for anything. 

Still from Persona (1966)

I was very depressed + troubled from my mid-20s into my mid-30s + that has without doubt shaped a lot of my ideas and things I wanted my music to achieve. I always wanted music to have an emotional melancholy - but with hope + a sense of resolution. In comparison to music which is only dark + heavy, I’ve always wanted both light + dark, soft + heavy. I think that resonated with people because it somehow feels more emotional.

What resonates with you photographically?

I love photography + film because of how much magic + otherworldliness can happen when you capture a moment – how the medium, light + framing can align in such powerful ways.

I'm drawn to Vivian Maier + Yang Fudong. I’m a fan of the immortal deep analogue black + white moments that feel both grounded in the everyday but otherworldly + dreamlike at the same time.

Ms. Huang at M. Last Night (2006) by Yang Fudong

An image on eve that resonates is Window Washers, Seattle, Washington, 2012 by Amy Sacka – I love how dynamic + almost alien this image is. It's such a rare perspective + the rope disrupts the image in such an interesting way.

It feels like you see an image + then your eyes are diverted somewhere very different, like two worlds simultaneously + both have very different sense of scale. 

Window Washers, Seattle, Washington (2012) by Amy Sacka (The MF Gallery)