Mexican modernity comes to REDCAT

In the world of electro-acoustic music, one basic challenge is how to build better -- or at least more inventive -- bridges. The trick is to invite, and sometimes force, a dialogue between instruments and sound-making systems that respects both the electro- and acoustic sides of the equation.

That effort reached a peak in an exhilarating passage Tuesday at REDCAT, where three Mexican musicians from the group known as Arte Sonoro started a two-night festival.

In “Irredeemable,” Roberto Morales Manzanares was the onstage pianist at the center of a seductive multilayered swirl of aural activity. His dense, dissonant piano fed into a laptop -- the central nervous system of his setup -- which then summoned responsive digital tones and, more dramatically, triggered a second wired-up grand piano to play its own ghostly contrapuntal parts. The density and multidirectionality of sound production was thrilling, particularly because Manzanares displayed feverish piano chops at the center of the sonic storm.

Together, Arte Sonoro is a six-member collective of electro-acoustic composer-performers linked to the Arte Sonoro Festival in Mexico City. And adding to Tuesday’s varied pleasures in sound and concept was the opportunity the evening gave concertgoers to check in on the creative life of Mexico, a country whose artistic riches have yet to be fully appreciated outside its borders.

Manzanares started things off by playing flute on “Cenzontole” (Mockingbird), his laptop processing both sound and synchronized, psychedelic video imagery projected on a screen behind him. Misfiring software led to a pregnant pause for rebooting, but this was no party-stopper: Technical difficulties are almost de rigueur out on the frontier where new ideas are being road-tested.

For seriocomic relief, Guillermo Galindo appeared in a silvery spaceman costume. His table included the holy laptop and a radically retooled boxy record player fitted with metal objects and a giant spring from which to coax sounds. This kitschy shaman mixed and looped scraping and banging sounds in a theatrical ritual at once atavistic, industrial and retro sci-fi.

In contrast to the charismatic performances of his two predecessors, Alvaro Ruiz opted for a disembodied, “Wizard of Oz” effect, tweaking his laptop sight-and-sound material out of sight. Improvising, he conjured up a kinetic, spatial mosaic of sounds and then audio-video pieces, including a disturbing piece showing a woman’s battered face and one slowly opening and closing eye. Such imagery conferred sadness and violence on the sounds, another type of sensory bridging.