With the audience seated on a handful of benches and the floor, My Self in That Moment begins in semi-darkness. We barely see what appears to be a large rectangular window, with many framed panes, directly before us, while a loudly amplified single mezzo note, harshly distorted, is sustained for seven minutes (by my count). At first this scenario is intriguing, as we realise the audience is ever so slightly reflected in the window, and wonder where this digitally manipulated note is leading. Eventually I feel bored, and ultimately mildly disturbed, as that unrelenting, unnatural sound seems to have a psychological effect.

Jessica Aszodi in My Self in That Moment, Chamber Made, 2022. Photo © Pia Johnson

It’s a bold opening for what proves to be a daringly experimental performance by Chamber Made that’s both intriguing and alienating. My Self in That Moment was commissioned by The Substation, a venue in Melbourne’s west. Far from the well-trodden, inner-city theatre circuit, with a cavernous performance space free of stage or seating, it heightens the sense that we’re here for an unconventional performance even before it begins.

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