Creamcake: Rabbit Island

LINEUP
Elvin Brandhi
Gray
Hüma Utku
Maria Metsalu
Masma Dream World
MUXXXE

Ōkunoshima (大久野島) is a small piece of subcontinental land near Japan’s Hiroshima that’s overrun by feral bunnies. Located in the Inland Sea, the origins of its vast hoard of wild mammals is unclear—whether released by a school group following World War II, or escaped from their toxic fate at a poison gas testing facility during the island’s grim military heyday. Nonetheless, these creatures have made the tiny sanctuary their own, roaming freely together, undaunted by the ogling tourists for whom they’ve become entertainment. Creamcake’s Rabbit Island at Spreepark on July 29 honors this notion of adaptation to adversity, and the shifting social and cultural norms—both imposed and self-created—that dictate our own behaviors.

The one-day event will take place in the once abandoned, now slowly revived amusement park in the north of the Plänterwald in Treptow-Köpenick, and builds on fantasy writer Ray Bradbury’s famous quote, “Insanity is relative. It depends on who has who locked in what cage.” In this case, the keys are kept by the queer-feminist interdisciplinary platform and its motley crew of musicians, performers, producers, and DJs who will invade the decaying GDR-era funfair with extreme encounters of music from the margins. Centered around the remaining iron support structure of the Mero Hall former fast-food restaurant, the temporary outdoor event space and installation by architecture collective Modulorbeat—called “Blue Hour”—hosts a program of experiments in techno, noise, goth, breakcore, rap, pop, and “other.” Artists like Hüma Utku, Gray, Masma Dream World, and MUXXXE, not only reclaim space to explore psychological deviations from the norm but allow visitors an insight into the inner workings of a world outside of their own.

Among them are two site-specific Rabbit Island performances, including sound artist Elvin Brandhi’s live composition of sample-based, voice-heavy, loops of nerve-twitching audio textures, which bounce off bread sculptures and drawings, in a carousel of interacting actions and information. Choreographer Maria Metsalu, meanwhile, collaborates with Artjom Astrov, whose musical score underpins an experience and a spectacle that can only be described as existing somewhere between a classical concert and finger-painting exercise. Together, these artists give their audience a glimpse into some of the most fiercely singular interdisciplinary practices and perspectives, in a world that’s long gone mad.