Losing Track of Time

Music for 18 musicians

A night with Music for 18 Musicians and ROLROLROL, a morning with Alexander Melnikov in the Palmarium. Some concerts respect your calendar. Others do something different: they slice the night open, put repetition under tension, and won't let you land until morning light is already sliding through the city.

During Festival Flander Ghent's closing weekend, the clock switches off for a while. In Club Wintercircus, Steve Reich's Music for 18 Musicians unfolds as a live-built soundscape: pulse, breath, shift, trance. Then ROLROLROL, the duo of Jameszoo and Niels Broos, push that current further into the night with skewed electronics, jazz mutations, synths and grooves that refuse to be tamed. And then, a unique performance for those who push through to morning: Alexander Melnikov at daybreak in the Palmarium of GUM. Shostakovich among glass, plants, first light and a cup of coffee. No afterparty. More of a reset for the nervous system.

For night owls, early birds, minimal heads, club hunters, piano freaks and anyone who likes to stay just a little bit too long.

26.09 | STEVE REICH IN DE CLUB

Proto-techno after dark

Music for 18 Musicians & ROLROLROL (AI generated media)

Before techno had a name, Steve Reich was already building an acoustic machine of pulse, breath and slowly shifting patterns with Music for 18 Musicians. Proto-techno, minus the cables: eighteen musicians as one living circuit.

In Club Wintercircus, that music takes on a different temperature. No white cube, no tidy monument, but a space that breathes, shudders and can hold the night. Het Muziek, formerly known as Asko|Schönberg, and Storm in a Jar don't present Reich as heritage but as pure energy: a system that slowly heats up until you no longer know whether you're listening to patterns, muscles or time itself.

Then ROLROLROL takes over. Jameszoo and Niels Broos make music that refuses to sit still: electronics with loose joints, jazz with a crooked smile, synths as if someone left an arcade hall behind in a dream. The pulse stays, but starts to fray. The machine gains humour, sweat and short circuits.

For those who prefer to hear Reich by moonlight. For those who don't need to know where the concert ends and the club begins.

27.09 | MELNIKOV AT DAWN

Coffee, croissant and Shostakovich at the Palmarium

Palmarium GUM

After the night comes no gentle landing, but a different kind of clarity. At 7 in the morning, Alexander Melnikov performs the complete 24 Preludes and Fugues by Dmitri Shostakovich at the Palmarium of the GUM. A journey through all 24 keys, written with Bach in mind and the twentieth century under its skin. This music is strict, ironic, fragile, at times almost bare. It isn't looking for spectacle. It opens rooms. It lets doubt sound out. It puts small shifts under a magnifying glass.

At the Palmarium, that takes on a faintly hallucinatory quality: glass, plants, the first daylight, a grand piano and a city that hasn't quite decided to wake up yet. Here, Shostakovich doesn't sound like repertoire, but like a state of mind just after the night.

Coffee and croissant are included. Not as a luxury. As a survival strategy.