Freshmen Have Coregasm

Jeremy Sanford

A musician crouches behind machines and a suitcase overflowing with sound-producing wires. He twists knobs and pushes pads as a projector emits a collection of anamorposes onto the blinds behind him. The images flicker, distort and tangentialize into a brief cohesion before they fade. A silent crowd fills the contours of the small room. Their heads bobs as they shift stances, collectively bringing their beers to their mouth.

This scene exemplified the atmosphere at “Jelq Tour 98,” a show organized by the first-year student group Coregasm. The show, which took place in February, was distinct for its DIY location (a freshman dorm) and the crowd in attendance, which consisted primarily of first-year artists. Conservatory sophomore Eastman Presser (Steamship) made sounds, while College first-year Taylor Stanton (Beefevil) displayed his videography, with a single flyer by College first-year James Scott (Big Red) posted on the door serving as the sole advertisement for the event. “We wanted it to be more of a word-of-mouth show, I guess,” Presser said of the show’s lack of publicity. “We wanted to show our friends what we were working on creatively.”

Indeed, the Coregasm project functions as a conduit for creative demonstration. Conceived in January with the formation of a record label in mind, Coregasm provides a showcase for a small group of first-years’ artistic pursuits. “Starting a record label isn’t that practical, so it’s not really that,” Taylor Stanton said of the group’s mission statement. “But sure, Coregasm’s a record label. Coregasm’s whatever you want it to be.”

Principal to the Coregasm ethos is its ill-defined boundaries, as well as its fluidity. Shows or listening sessions and video display are a big part of it, but so is the creative process itself. The free-flowing nature of the art parallels Coregasm’s openness; at Jelq Tour, Steamship displayed his no-input mixing abilities, a music form that is inherently abstract, its methodology necessitating an inconsistent pattern.

Is Coregasm, then, just a name? For what exactly? For an emerging artist in search of a supportive community — even a community without clearly defined boundaries — Coregasm provides an opportunity to overcome the timidity one may feel in respect to exhibiting their art.

There’s a lot of talent at Oberlin College — it’s natural to be intimidated by the artistic skills of your peers. Intrinsic to Coregasm, then, is its encouragement of artistic growth and its participants’ willingness to be open about their art. The group proposes a more serious, production-based version of the relaxed creative atmosphere of high school, a not-so-distant memory for most of Coregasm’s members. The flux of ideas generates new ones, relaxed criticism improves the art itself and the people who attend the shows not only might enjoy them, but also get a feel for what’s happening in their friends’ creative lives. Said Stanton, “it’s important to have something separate from studying or academia and the social sphere. It offers a really organic way of making and showing things. Y’know, there aren’t grades or anything.” To this end, Presser further explained, “We want to have a performance environment where communication and criticism can take place while also being really casual.”

Coregasm intends to continue in this manner in the future. Radio shows, concerts, readings and viewing sessions will continue, but the group has no plans to put out records or augment its membership. For now, it is a constructive channel by which a few first-years students can show each other a side of themselves that too often goes undetected.