We knew Matthew (Pixelh8) was into getting computers to make sounds through any means possible because of his involvement in the Curiosity Collective. He shares the group's enthusiasm for things with buttons and a willingness to take apart and repurpose technology, something we're not afraid to admit doesn't always go quite as expected. So when we first heard that he'd been given a research position at the National Museum of Computing at Bletchley Park, we were surprised - excited, but mildly scared as to what he might get up to given the last 50 years or so of carefully collected machines at his disposal, not least the famed Colossus Mark 2, used to help break the Enigma code.

A group of us arrived at the main gate on the afternoon of the performance to meet with Matthew and get a special out of hours tour around the museum where he could show us the machines that he'd spent the last few months painstakingly sampling and sequencing for his 'for two nights only' 'Obsolete?' performance. Our brief was to tell the security guard we were here to see Dr Applegate and to meet him at the mansion. Sure enough, Matthew was there to greet us as we walked through the main doors in the wood-panel-lined hallway: "welcome to the mansion". There was an air of MTV Cribs about it as Matthew gave us a quick tour, including the 'ball room' where the evening's performance would be held. Secretive about the main details of the night but oozing excitement and pride, "let's go have a look at the toys" he said as he led us out of the mansion and over to 'Block H', the home of the National Museum of Computing.

We were met with rooms full of whirring computers and as Matthew explained a few details about each as we past you could really tell how much he'd learnt during his stay at Bletchley over the past few months, an important achievement for him personally, inspiring and adding a historically accurate integrity to his 'Obsolete?' composition. "This is the Elliot 803", Matthew shows us excitedly, "the tones on this just cut through anything else in the room", something we'd experience later that evening. "I also recorded this IBM reading in punchcards - the most unlikely drumkit."

We were led past the usual visiting areas and Matthew showed us his work desk in a room full of shelves of 'new' arrivals - computers donated to the museum but awaiting testing. "If we haven't switched a machine on before, we plug it in here", he said pointing to an area of the floor next to a fire exit, "that way we can quickly throw it out of the building should it burst into flames - it happens". Matthew, unfazed by any danger explains how "it's really cool getting these old machines to do something after so long. Some of them were rescued from fields and when I arrived the museum had put signs on them saying 'do not turn on' or 'faulty', but I've cleaned a few up and got them doing interesting stuff again".

In the evening, the audience were in darkness as Matthew entered the stage to take command of the set of machines he had set up, including a BBC Micro with his own software he wrote running on it. The performance sparked into life with a loud crunchy rhythm gradually being layered on top of itself and a projected screen behind visualising the waveforms in realtime. What followed was quite unlike anything else - 12 pieces with a mix of complex industrial beats, synth-like melodies and slightly sinister whirring sounds. Each had a bespoke visualisation created by Matthew with the exception of one where apparently Matthew wanted to immerse the audience in the dark with the computer giants filling their minds. One visualisation, Matthew explained afterwards, was a recording from a webcam of one of the rooms in the museum at night where a few of the larger machines spark into life. Others reflected elements of the machine's operation, abstract dots interacting with each other mirroring the format of the tape used to read in encrypted messages intercepted during WWII to 'Colossus'.

Matthew's imagination, which he is keen to share both through his music and Q&A session after the performance, creates an air of intrigue in the room, which reflects suitably the mysterious history of the venue. Hidden messages are scattered throughout the pieces in a code-like fashion but Matthew doesn't want to give away all of his tricks. These tricks, though, are more than likely an expression of Matthew's playful attitude to his work, rather than something more malevolent. His efforts are seen as something more serious, however, for the volunteers that run the museum, which is in dire need of funding in order to ensure its future. They see Matthew's work as a valuable contribution - a soundtrack for their visitors for hopefully many years to come.

Words > Alex Healing