YOU NEED to take a moment before running in fear from Clubhouse, the new cabaret, performance art, film, video, dance and whatever-you're-having-yourself happening in the basement of the Arthouse. If not, you could easily be frightened off by the howling, grinding and thumping of Fergus Kelly's frankly demanding sound creations, first on the inaugural bill.
Kelly plays "treated" bass and a collection of instruments that look as though their usual resting place was the cupboard under the stairs. In Kelly's hands, a portable fan, various saucepans and something that looks like a tie rack were used to create a "concrete" symphony which never left the audience - even if comfortably seated around candle-lit cafe tables - less than unsettled.
For anyone who sticks with it, the evening turns up a wilfully eclectic band of underground performers and artists, many premiering works created in response to Arthouse's "Call for Proposals". The longest work - Hey, Hey, Hey, JFK - Mark Long's sceptical documentary about the visit of the American aircraft carrier, lasted 30 minutes. Most pieces were half that, but none - from Eithne McGuinness's gynaecological gallows humour to the brilliant, melancholic animation of An Bunnain Bui - overstayed its welcome.
Gar Cox's "pieces" are artfully misfired satires and surreal waltzes and tend to last about a minute, or until he becomes bored by them. His audience, however, are far too bewitched by his thuggish nerdyness to be anything but appreciative.
The evening also boasted the premiere of What We Need Now, a new cut-up video by Kevin McAleer in which Captain Terence O'Neill ("treated", of course) makes a plea for some riotous behaviour and is rewarded, through the miracle of rapid-fire editing and a brutal percussive soundtrack, to a bone-mangling fistfight involving Robert De Niro, Leonard Nimoy and a cast of thousands.
The evening climaxed with a hilarious video and live vocal creation from digital terrorists Sin Sin, with found footage mashed into a witty backdrop before which Sam danced with a cut-out doll and sang in a delicate whisper about a raver called Fergus who speaks in fluent Tallaghese. In any language you choose, however, Arthouse's performance space has found its best use yet.
