A Night at phoebe bridgers’ planetarium
Phoebe Bridgers’ discography has a way of surrounding the listener; of pulling them in and enrapturing them in the throes of her haunting voice. The choice then to host previews of her latest album in planetariums around the country, through an event series named the Lost Weekend Planetarium Experience, where screens encompass the audience’s entire view, is extremely fitting. Transporting listeners not only auditorily by an album filled with all-encompassing yearning, but visually too by stunning natural visuals that answer the yearning and leave the audience feeling connected to the greater universe.
The immersive visuals, mostly consisting of natural landscapes, open skies, and star fields, were captured beautifully by photographer Babak Tafreshi across nearly 20 countries. They played extensively on the themes of time and change through processes like long exposure and time-lapses. A forest filled with the dances of fireflies, whose movements pop like stars and streak around the otherwise still night, only to fade as the sun fills the branches. National parks shot on grand scales, seemingly still as the sun sets behind their grandeur and they are surrounded by a heaven filled with countless stars, fading as the sun rises again. All set to Bridgers’ rich and intimate lyrics.
The marriage between the visuals and music was best showcased in the track “Kill Me.”
A slow guitar opens the track, even and yet unsettling, as Bridgers’ vocals come in, reverbed and reflecting on growing older. As she sings “I’m not, but I was once, certain, always/Now all I know is the ending”, the planetarium is filled by a storm crawling into a golden sky. The unease of the track and growing clouds is broken, by a hint of warmth in the certainty of the lyric, “This is gonna kill me.” Which hovers for a moment in the air, the guitar and clouds both stop on dime, before she adds an offbeat, “Wait”, as if recognizing the coming certainty. The storm builds through the second verse as the uneasy guitar returns. But by the second chorus, the guitar turns warm, and the storm no longer pauses at Bridgers’ “Wait”, an acceptance of what must happen. The warm guitar builds in intensity before breaking into a jarring bridge that rages and turns into a more industrial sound. To match, the planetarium’s projections hard cut onto a raging lighting storm that stirs with the intensity of the repeatedly yelled lyrics, “Tamám Shud/ Let’s go missing/ Listen, listen”. Before, all at once, the whining, intense music and all-consuming storm cease. An ending that drips with finality.
The Lost Weekend Planetarium Experience was an extremely unique and moving way to showcase Bridgers’ new album, and many listening sessions were entirely sold out. Hopefully this enthusiasm will be noted by promoters and encourage more artists to create similar experiences that build hype and connect with listeners.