The Guardian Guide preview, Oct 6-12 2007
The Nottingham-based artist group Reactor are interested in setting up scenarios which they hope
will transform the audience itself into the work. Set in a disused fire station next to Piccadilly
Railway Station, The Tetra Phase promises to intrigue and confound. Staged for just Saturday
afternoons throughout October, participants are required to book beforehand (call 0161 832 8034 or
visit www.reactorweb.com) and are not allowed to repeat the experience. "As in life, you only get
one chance," the group insists. What exactly you might get a chance to do is shrouded in enigmatic
obscurity in the group's publicity - "meaning is internal and objectivity an impossibility". There
will be some kind of visitor interaction with the architectural structure of the space and every
movement recorded on the ubiquitous CCTV cameras. Beyond that you'll have to go along in person to
find out.
Robert Clark
--
Essay published on axisweb.org, 2007
Lawrence Bradby
www.axisweb.org/dlFULL.aspx?ESSAYID=103
--
a-n Magazine, December 2007
A voice sounds over the Tannoy: "Place the hood over your head, pick up the boiler suit, and a
supervisor will take you to your cell." I stumble through a dimly lit corridor into a dusty jail
cell where I remove the hood, and put on the boiler suit. After twenty minutes of waiting I am led
away with four others to a room where we are met by a large man wearing a balaclava and aviator
shades. "This is not like the outside world," we are told. "If you do well you will go up... if
you do badly you will go down."
Lined up against a wall our details are taken, and we are assigned numbers: I am number twenty-nine.
We are taken to a room where I have to lead the group in a task. I do badly. Blindfolded I am taken
down into the dark recesses of the building, and sat on a chair. Ominous music is played to me which
subtly transforms into a morose power ballad: "I am a prisoner...of your eyes," the songstress
exclaims. Suddenly a hand clasps my shoulder, and I am led away, further into the blackness,
engulfed by the dead smell of the derelict fire station.
I can hear voices softly chattering around my head, my blindfold is removed and the rest of my team
greets me wearing party hats. "Are you having fun?" they ask me constantly. Bearing strange fixed
grins, they force feed me cake and lemonade. This is by far the most unsettling experience of the
whole project as I wonder what the consequences of not having enough fun may be. Over the next hour
we are led upwards and downwards, facing a bewildering array of masonic and militaristic ritual,
which engender a deep sense of paranoia. I am taken aside and told I have done well, and must
nominate a person within my team who has held us back. I suspect other members of my team have been
asked to do the same.
Finally we are taken to a candlelit room on the top floor, where we stand around a chalk pentangle
facing an altar. "You are coming to the end of your time here, only four of you will be leaving.
One of you will remain", we are told. Number twenty-eight is accosted and removed from the room, an
air of guilt is palpable. After the recitation of a prayer, we are ejected from the building out on
to a damp Manchester side street. Chatting in the cosy comfort of the Bull Tavern afterwards a sense
of mistrust remains amongst us. It would seem the Tetra Phase doesn't let you go that easily.
Matt Roberts
--
Student Direct, 8th Oct 2007
Set in the old police station, Reactor was something I would describe as a 'psychological
experiment.' I assumed that the organisers had read a psychology textbook, picked out their
favourite experiments, and attempted to re-create them with the audience as participants.
We were told to get into boiler suites that had been provided and put a blindfold on, then led into
a room with a couple of stiff beds and a delightful toilet in the corner (like some sort of prison
simulation study). I thought back to first entering and reassured myself that I didn't sign anything.
We read instructions which told us to enter another room after a 'crow called' - the night seemed to
be getting more bizarre by the minute! There were now six of us in the room. We were told to watch a
television screen which looked like some sort of Bridget Riley picture. Yet again blindfolded, we
went up to a room where there was a 'Lego' man, and I'm talking literally: a man with a giant 'Lego'
head. I asked him how this was made, but he assured me it was actually his real head, so now I'm
looking for the nearest exit! I have to say that the Lego man was one of the highlights, as I don't
think I have ever seen someone get so into a role.
During the rest of the evening we went in and out of different rooms, leading to a variety of
different experiences. These included building temples and ringing bells while some people dressed as
Zombies came in, with Michael Jackson's 'Thriller' playing in the background. Half way through the
'dancing Zombies' my friend proceeded to run out of the room, I ran after her, then the rest of our
'team' ran after her as well. Her explanation for this reaction was that someone had said 'run, run
for your lives', which no-one actually had, and the current performer in charge was a bit worried
that he had just lost his viewers. Then we built some squares - building seemed to become a bit of
a running theme. By now I had spotted cameras on the walls, which further backed up my 'psychological
theory'.
Don't get me wrong, I had a really good time, but didn't understand a thing. I could make up theories
involving space, travel, life and more feasibly that it was something psychological, but I really
wouldn't be doing it any justice. The experience is what you make it - it could be anything you want
it to be - and confusing though it is, I would say it's well worth going again!
Erica Douglas-Osborn
http://interface.a-n.co.uk/interface/reviews/single/390416
www.student-direct.co.uk/arts/reactor-%E2%80%93-tetra-phase