A solo sound and light journey into the unknown.
It might be for you, about you, or for someone else entirely.

When you’re here, I’m nowhere is a one-on-one performance work created in an unused stairwell in the Art Gallery of Western Australia for for Proximity Festival. As a direct result of the work, the stairwell is now a permanent gallery space dedicated to artists with sound practices.

“When You’re Here, I’m Nowhere is a beautiful, dramatic explosion of emotion and music. It’s up to the audience to decide what it’s all about, while they’re soaked, heart to skin, in incredible sound.”
Zoe Barron - Artshub

“The gorgeously explosive When You’re Here, I’m Nowhere, performed by its composer, Brett Smith, on a piano made even grander by its subterranean cranny, was like something by Syd Barrett or John Cale.”
David Zampatti - The West Australian

“Brett Smith musically occupies another stairwell in When You’re Here, I’m Nowhere. The audience is taken to the roof of the gallery and left at a door. Walking down the stairs inside, the warm yellow glow of the hanging light bulbs with their tangled filaments leads the way, fading again above and behind. Piano chords, full of notes, sound from below.

As I arrive at the grand piano, Smith looks up and smiles at me and keeps on playing. I perch on a stool provided across the strings and watch him play. Smith develops his chords, improvises. The intensity builds. He is lost in his keys. He starts to sing, a voice easy on the ear, but conveying intense emotion: “When you’re here, I’m nowhere,” a simple lyric, repeated. The chords change, the style changes and the same lyrics take on other shades of meaning.

Each audience member will experience this piece differently, a salute to the intense subjectivity of the world of music. Smith presents it and his audience must take on the raw experience and a slightly voyeuristic sensation with an intimacy and ambiguity that may be encompassing, trigger a fly-on-the-wall response or even exclude them from the performance. The strength of this piece lies in its openness to subjective engagement.”
Nerida Dickinson - Realtime Arts