Showing posts with label sophia space agency. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sophia space agency. Show all posts

4 Aug 2026

Better to Be a Prosimian Than a Superhuman (Or Why I Prefer Lemurs to Lemurians)

A Lemurian in their cosmic-astral form dancing through the heavens [1] 
and a pair of lemurs in all their wet-nosed beauty ghosting in the forest
 
 
I.
 
Humanity is a species desperately insecure about its place in the universe. The Copernican revolution followed by the death of God hasn't helped matters. 
 
However, existential anxiety does in part explain the rise of numerous New Age mythologies which offer alternative histories of mankind based on pseudoarchaeology and various occult beliefs. 
 
The possibility that we are descended from superhuman - possibly alien - beings addresses the pathological need to feel not only exceptional but cosmically significant. We obsessively imagine ethereal ancestors to validate our uniqueness, while pushing the flesh-and-blood miracles staring back at us from the natural world to the edge of extinction. 
 
This is perfectly illustrated by the way in which a scientific hypothesis about a lost continent called Lemuria - intended to explain the presence of lemurs on Madagascar - was hijacked by theosophists in the late nineteenth century and transformed into a bizarre myth of a primal spiritually advanced species of man.  
 
In other words, humans decided that the evolutionary history of lemurs was of no great concern to them - even though, of course, their evolutionary history is our evolutionary history [2] - and that it was far more fascinating to invent a fictional race of giant, telepathic beings who once lived on a sunken continent: ladies and gentlemen, meet the Lemurians ... 
 
 
II.        
 
To understand how deeply this preference for conceited fantasy over objective scientific fact runs, we must look at how the myth of Lemuria developed. It did not begin with an esoteric vision; it began, rather, with a pile of bones and an attempt by British zoologist Philip Sclater in 1864 to solve a geographical puzzle [3].
 
Sclater noticed that fossilised remains of lemurs were found in both Madagascar and India, but, curiously, not in the landmasses between them. Before the mechanics of continental drift were understood, the only logical explanation Sclater could devise was a sunken land bridge beneath the Indian Ocean; a continent he named Lemuria, in honour of the primates whose ancient remains inspired him. 
 
Initially, then, Lemuria was a theory within respectable mainstream science. But after the famous German biologist Ernst Haeckel suggested in 1868 that Lemuria might also be the lost cradle of humanity, the idea was appropriated by thinkers outside the scientific community, including Helena Blavatsky and members of her Theosophical Society. 
 
They didn't give a shit about the evolution of lemurs or patterns of primate migration. They simply wanted a stage upon which they could play out their mad racial fantasies and conjure up visions of a lost world inhabited by a root-race of hermaphroditic superhumans channelling cosmic energy with sacred crystals [4].       
 
Theories about Lemuria were laid to rest when, in the 1960s, the scientific community finally accepted Alfred Wegener's theory of plate tectonics and continental drift, first proposed in 1912. However, the idea lived on in the popular imagination, especially among those prone to New Age beliefs, crackpot history, and pseudoarchaeology and there is now a vast body of fringe literature available for those with the time and patience [5]. 
  
It is now believed by those who like this sort of thing that the last of the Lemurians are holed up - literally - beneath Mount Shasta, in Northern California, in a hidden, jewel-encrusted city called Telos [6].   
 
 
III.  
 
Strip away all the comforting New Age delusions and a simple truth emerges: It is infinitely preferable to be a real wet-nosed prosimian than a mythical Lemurian
 
Certainly for my part, I have no desire to become spiritually superhuman. On the other hand, however, I would quite happily become-animal or reincarnate as any species [7] of forest-haunting lemur [8] subordinate to the alpha-female leading my troop.     
 
Being a lemur - i.e., an actual living creature - offers distinct advantages over being a Lemurian; i.e., a mythical being born of lost-continent lore. For one thing, you are actually alive - and that, as Lawrence says, is the most marvellous thing of all: "For man, as for flower and beast and bird, the supreme triumph is to be most vividly, most perfectly alive" [9].
 
Inhabiting a lush, tropical habitat, lemurs lead a relatively stress-free existence: foraging for food (which is plentiful and varied); sleeping, sunbathing, leaping from tree to tree, and cuddling up with other members of their tight-knit and highly cooperative family troops (a demokrasian'ny fikasihana as they say in Malagasy). 
 
Before the relatively recent arrival of man, lemurs enjoyed a safe and peaceful existence for tens of millions of years [10]. 

 
IV. 
 
So, we have to ask: Why do so many people find an imaginary humanoid more compelling than a biological organism, such as a strangely beautiful (and beautifully strange) lemur?
 
The answer is simple: myths flatter the human ego, whereas evolutionary reality demands humility. 
 
For the science reveals that our ancestors were not glowing, ethereal giants, but small, scurrying, bug-eating mammals that survived by clinging to branches in the dark. It demonstrates how we are intimately linked to the lemur through shared DNA, skeletal blueprints, and social impulses - and a lot of people find that disconcerting. 
 
In fact, those who subscribe to Idealism and myths of human exceptionalism despise all animals, including lemurs, because they remind us that we are fundamentally the same: eating, breathing, shitting, fucking, and dying just like them.  
 
To believe in Lemurians is to believe that we are the descendants of gods. It implies that the universe is a story centred entirely around the human potential to transcend our biology, our mortality, our terrestrial nature. It allows us to indulge in escapism, looking both backward and forward to a golden age of spiritual perfection while we busy ourselves actively destroying the Earth we live on.
 
The Lemurian is a sterile projection of Victorian and New Age anxieties: nothing more. The lemur is a miracle of evolution, perfectly adapted to an environment that they help maintain in one of the most biodiverse places on Earth [11]. 
 
When we trade the lemur for the Lemurian, we exchange a vital link to our own evolutionary history for a funfair mirror that reflects only our selves in a crazily distorted manner. Looking into the limpid amber eyes of a lemur [12] doesn't connect you to a fake spiritual hierarchy, but to the foundational elements of our own behaviour, including not only cognitive flexibility, but the need to be in touch - with other people, but also with plants and animals and inanimate objects [13].  
 
The next time you hear some idiot rambling on about the ancient wisdom of the lost continent of Lemuria or the spiritual aura of its fictional inhabitants, tell them to put down their crystals and go look at the vibrant chaos of the natural world unfolding in their own back garden. 
 
The phantom continent is exposed as a historical footnote born from a misunderstanding of what the fossil record was telling us. But the animals that inspired the myth are still there, clinging to survival in the forests of Madagascar. We don't need to invent a magical past to be a part of something wondrous. Reality is already spectacular enough. 
 
Stop looking for the Lemurian: celebrate the lemur!
 

Notes
 
[1] Artwork by Harry Rankin for the cover of the debut album by Sophia Space AgencyThe Turning Blue, released on Lemurian Records (2026). For my thoughts on this dark ambient project by Melpomeni Kermanidou, please click here.   
 
[2] As primates, both humans and lemurs share a distant common ancestor. The split into two distinct suborders - humans belong to the Haplorhini along with other dry-nosed apes and monkeys; lemurs belong to the Strepsirrhini (wet-nosed primates) - occurred over sixty million years ago. 
      As those who have devoted their professional lives to studying lemurs will tell you, "both living species and their extinct relatives, are a crucial part of the human story", for despite millions of years separating us, "we still share genes, complex social lives, and many of the same susceptibilities to disease".  
      For more information, please visit the Duke Lemur Center, founded at Duke University (North Carolina) in 1966. The DLC is a world leader in the study, care, and protection of lemurs - Earth's most threatened group of mammals (although lemurs have thrived for tens of millions of years, human activity and climate change has now left many species either endangered or critically endangered).
 
[3] See Philip Lutley Sclater, 'The Mammals of Madagascar', in The Quarterly Journal of Science, Vol. 1, pp. 213-219.
 
[4] I really don't want to follow Blavatsky too far down the theosophical rabbit hole, but, in brief, she believed Lemurians to be the third of seven distinct root races from which modern humanity evolved. Exceedingly tall beings, Lemurians possessed a third eye via which they could perceive higher dimensions. Unfortunately, after discovering sex they began to mate with lower species. This led to their spiritual degeneration and eventual downfall (although, on the bright side for any primatologists reading, it did result in the creation of apes).
 
[5] See the work of James Churchward, for example, who developed the concept of Lemuria in several books published in the 1920s and '30s. He referred to it as the lost continent of Mu, however, and identified its location in the Pacific Ocean (also incorporating ideas to do with Atlantis into his work). 
      See also L. Sprague de Camp's classic study Lost Continents: The Atlantis Theme in History, Science, and Literature (Gnome Press, 1954). An updated version was published by Dover Press in 1970 and it remains one of the most reliable books on this subject.
 
[6] Mount Shasta - a potentially active volcano - has been the subject of a large number of myths and legends. In 1905, the American writer and mystic Frederick Spencer Oliver published his A Dweller on Two Planets which claimed that survivors from Lemuria had found refuge there after their own land sunk beneath the waves, building a complex system of tunnels and caves - carpeted with furs, apparently. 
      Later, Rosicrucian Harvey Spencer Lewis also wrote about the hidden Lemurians of Mount Shasta and his work - Lemuria: The Lost Continent of the Pacific (1931) - along with Oliver's, is largely responsible for the legend's widespread popularity. Predictably, belief in the US-based Lemurians has been incorporated into numerous new religious movements (or cults, as I think we might fairly call some of them) and today internet forums are still filled with people instructing you how to connect with your inner Lemurian.
 
[7] There are over a 120 recognised species of lemur divided across five main families. They are found exclusively in the wild on the island of Madagascar. Readers might be interested to know that with more than 200 animals across 13 species, the Duke Lemur Center (linked to above) houses the world's most diverse population of lemurs outside their native Madagascar.
      
[8] I say forest-haunting rather than simply forest-dwelling, as the name lemur comes from the Latin word lemures, meaning ghost. Carl Linnaeus chose this term in 1754 because of the nocturnal habits and slow movements of the animals and not, as is popularly believed, because of their large eyes that seem to glow in the dark and strange cries. 
 
[9] D. H. Lawrence, Apocalypse and the Writings on Revelation, ed. Mara Kalnins (Cambridge University Press, 1980), p. 149. 
 
[10] See Katherine Rundell, 'Consider the Lemur', in The London Review of Books, Vol. 40, No. 13 (5 July 2018), where she writes: "The early human arrivals on the island eradicated at least 15 species of lemur. Now, largely due to deforestation, 24 species are critically endangered, 49 are endangered and 94 per cent of all species are threatened." 
      Rundell also explains how until recently there was a strong taboo on hunting and eating lemurs, which were believed to be magical creatures (part cat, part monkey, part human, part demon) but this has now mostly been eroded: "So the myths have not saved the lemurs." 
  
[11] Madagascar scores exceptionally high for global biodiversity, ranking as a top megadiverse country with over 90% endemic species. The UK, by comparison, ranks in the bottom 10% worldwide for nature-depleted ecosystems, retaining only half of its original plant and animal life due to centuries of industrialisation and intensive land use.
 
[12] I'm thinking here of something written by William Burroughs in his short eco-surreal novel Ghost of Chance (1991), that was primarily set in Madagascar and addressed the subject of environmental destruction. Burroughs was particularly fond of lemurs and described them as having eyes like "limpid amber, in which the pupil floated like a glittering jewel, changing color with shifts of the light". The story ends with the author requesting readers donate to the Duke University Primate Center.
 
[13] Lawrence's democracy of touch - mentioned earlier in the post (in Malagasy) - is founded upon what he terms the mystery or inspiration of touch and by which he means: "The touch of the feet on the earth, the touch of the fingers on a tree, on a creature, the touch of hands and breasts, the touch of the whole body to body, and the interpenetration of passionate love." 
      See D. H. Lawrence, The First and Second Lady Chatterley Novels, ed. Dieter Mehl and Christa Jansohn, (Cambridge University Press, 1999), p. 323  
  
 
This post is for Meni.  
 
 

2 Aug 2026

Leaving Lemuria

Sophia Space Agency in Cosmic-Lemurian 
Form and as Earthly-Stage Persona
 
 
I. 
 
For those who don't know, Lemuria is a mythical continent said to lie beneath the Indian Ocean. 
 
Its existence was first proposed by the English zoologist Philip Sclater in 1864, who was attempting to explain the presence of lemur fossils on Madagascar and the Indian subcontinent but not in continental Africa or the Middle East.
 
After controversial German biologist Ernst Haeckel suggested that Lemuria might also be the birthplace of mankind, the idea was taken up by thinkers outside the scientific community, including Mme. Blavatsky, occultist and founder of theosophy, who absorbed Lemuria into her mystical-religious doctrine.      
 
Blavatsky's writings were influential on many others within the esoteric tradition and before long everyone was excited by the myth of Lemuria and its early (but spiritually advanced) species of human [1].    
 
Theories about Lemuria became untenable when, in the 1960s, the scientific community finally accepted Alfred Wegener's theory of plate tectonics and continental drift, presented in 1912. However, the idea lived on in the popular imagination, especially among those prone to New Age beliefs, crackpot history, and pseudoarchaeology and there is a vast body of fringe literature available for those with the time and patience [2].  
 
 
II. 
 
Those who like this sort of thing seem to include the singer-songwriter and music producer Melpomeni Kermanidou, now working under the project name of Sophia Space Agency, whose seven-track, dark ambient album The Turning Blue was released last month on Lemurian Records [3]. 
 
As I have written about this album and the SSA in two earlier posts on Torpedo the Ark - click here and here - there's not a great deal more I can say here. But it does interest me to know: do the Lemurians represent an aspirational ideal for Miss Kermanidou?
 
She seems to be advocating a more harmonious way of life that balances alien spirituality, deep environmental responsibility, and a love of vintage fashion - so it could be argued that she feels a degree of kinship with these immensely wise (though imaginary) beings from the lost continent of Lemuria. 
 
Perhaps even she bears some kind of spiritual imprint ...? 
 
The SSA also invite us to explore the possibility of a multiverse and of worlds existing in a different dimension - perhaps the last of the Lemurians take shelter there, quietly guiding humanity toward enlightenment and polishing their sacred crystals ... Who knows? 
 
One wonders if Miss Kermanidou will eventually migrate from the world of dark ambience into that of Lemurian music per se - a genre which combines slow techno beats, ancient tribal sounds, and ambient frequencies designed to enhance meditation and bring out the Lemurian in all of us. 
 
As an artist who likes to develop in new directions, it's certainly possible. 
 
But perhaps at this point - and before she throws herself fully into all things Lemurian - let us recall something written by Jung in a letter of warning to Echidna Stillwell: 
 
 
[…] your attachment to a Lemurian cultural-strain disturbs me intensely. From my own point of view - based on the three most difficult cases I have encountered and their attendant abysmally archaic symbolism - it is no exaggeration to state that Lemuria condenses all that is most intrinsically horrific to the racial unconscious, and that the true Lemurians - who you seem intent upon rediscovering - are best left buried beneath the sea. I agree with the Theosophical writings at least this far: it was in order that the darkest sorceries should be erased by deluge that this continent of cultural possibility has been placed under the unconscious sign of definitive submergence. I know little enough about the nature of those that populated that cursed zone, but there are things I suspect, and the line of your own researches confirms my most ominous intimations. [4]
 
  
Notes
 
[1] I really don't want to follow Blavatsky too far down the theosophical rabbit hole, but, in brief, she believed Lemurians to be the third of seven distinct root races from which modern humanity evolved. Exceedingly tall beings - 12 to 15 feet in height - Lemurians possessed a third eye via which they could perceive higher dimensions. 
      Unfortunately, after discovering sex they began to mate with lower species. This led to their spiritual degeneration and eventual downfall (although, on the bright side for any primatologists reading, it did result in the creation of apes). 
 
[2] See the work of James Churchward, for example, who developed the concept of Lemuria in several books published in the 1920s and '30s. He referred to it as the lost continent of Mu, however, and identified its location in the Pacific Ocean (also incorporating ideas to do with Atlantis into his work). 
      See also L. Sprague de Camp's classic study Lost Continents: The Atlantis Theme in History, Science, and Literature (Gnome Press, 1954). An updated version was published by Dover Press in 1970 and it remains one of the most reliable books on this subject.   
 
[3] The link is to Spotify from where The Turning Blue can be downloaded. Readers who prefer their music the old-fashioned way, can pre-order a limited-edition vinyl album, released on 9 October 2026, from propermusic.com  

[4] This excerpt from a letter (allegedly) written by Jung to Echidna Stillwell and dated 27 Feb 1929 (for which there is no evidence of a reply) is quoted by Nick Land in 'Occultures', a text written in 1999 which can be found in Fanged Noumena: Collected Writings 1987-2007, ed. Robin Mackay and Ray Brassier (Urbanomic / Sequence Press, 2011), p. 549. 
      It can also be found in CCRU: Writings 1997-2003 (Urbanomic, 2022) under the title 'The Unlife of the Earth'.   
 
 
For a follow up post to this one on lemurs vs Lemurians (or natural history contra occult pseudoscience), please click here   
 
 

24 Jul 2026

Melpomeni: Queen of the Dark Ambient (In Anticipation of an Event by the Sophia Space Agency)

  
I. 
 
Etymologically, the word dark traces back to the Middle English derk and Old English deorc, signifying an absence of light, obscurity, or gloom. Somewhat fittingly, its exact origins remain uncertain. 
   
 
II. 
 
It's one of those funny things, but when you place the modifier dark in front of another word - for example, horse, chocolate, or energy - you not only form a fixed idiom, but create a phrase with a mysterious, erotic charge and, in some cases, a gothic double meaning. 
 
Critics will say that this claim is a subjective linguistic exaggeration. But I think that - with a little imaginative generosity - the argument not only holds good, but can be developed. 
 
For dark is not just any old modifier; it has the power to move a noun away from its literal meaning into a figurative (and intensive) space of the unknown, the hidden, the secret. It naturally arouses curiosity and triggers a curious state of arousal in those attracted to the occult and the dark side of things.  

That seems to include the London-based, Greek-Australian singer-songwriter Melpomeni Kermanidou - a self-styled queen of the musical genre known as dark ambient
 
 
III. 
  
As the conceptual genius behind the Sophia Space Agency and Chair of the Future Sound Experience Council at the Ivors Academy, Ms Kermanidou has always been more than a Mediæval Bæbe. And her musical style has always been both groundbreaking and genre-defying - a fact which has arguably not served her well in an industry that likes to categorise and label its musical artists.  
 
Her new album, The Turning Blue, was released independently earlier this month and will serve only to enhance her reputation. A dark and experimental work, it uses extensive vocal processing to create a synthesised alien soundscape that prioritises tone, texture, and atmosphere over traditional musical structures like rhythm and melody. Listeners will be treated to elements of drone, minimalist classical and electronic music.
 
Despite its ambient quality, The Turning Blue refuses to sit comfortably as mere background texture. It builds rather an environment that feels both deeply intimate and unsettlingly vast, distorting the human element in the process. Central to this is the fact that the dark ambient genre relies on an orchestration of absence and structural silence to map out the contours of the unknown. It's not just dissonant sounds and sudden loud noises intended to cause a jump scare à la the less subtle of horror film scores. 
 
Crucially, the digital edition of the album was mixed and mastered in spatial audio by Martyn Ware. By utilizing three-dimensional sound, the production ensures these synthetic landscapes do not just sit in front of the listener, but actively surround them and, if they're not careful, swallow them whole. 
 
The true test of this atmospheric manipulation, however, will be its translation to the stage. Melpomeni's upcoming live performance at Kings Place presents a compelling paradox. Staging an art form deeply rooted in silence and dark obscurity within a contemporary London venue celebrated for its acoustic clarity and state-of-the-art lighting creates a tense, fascinating friction.
 
Ultimately, this convergence of a flawless physical space and the Sophia Space Agency's dark ambient compositions offers something rare: a challenge to the audience to step out of the comfortably illuminated world and willingly surrender to the hidden, the secret, and the beautifully unresolved. 
 
    
For an earlier post by Stephen Alexander on the Sophia Space Agency (26 June 2026), please click here
 
And for a sister post by Jennifer Davis Taylor on the Sophia Space Agency (27 June 2026), click here 
  

27 Jun 2026

Earth Calling the Sophia Space Agency - An Alternative View by Jennifer Davis Taylor

Jennifer Davis Taylor and Melpomeni Kermanidou 
(Project Leader of the Sophia Space Agency)
 
 
Never let it be said that Torpedo the Ark doesn't encourage alternative perspectives ... 
 
Here's a thoughtful response submitted by Jennifer Davis Taylor - an interdisciplinary scholar, author, and creative practitioner who was present at the Sophia Space Agency audio event at Kings Place that I wrote about in a recent post: click here. 

She writes:  
 
 
Dear Stephen Alexander, 
 
Like you, I attended the launch of Melpomeni Kermanidou's debut album released under the name of the Sophia Space Agency, but I noticed entirely different things about both the staging and the spatial audio playback.
      
For me, the theatre space was defined by its intimacy - just right for twenty or thirty people. We weren't overcrowded. I liked the proportions of the room and the ratio of space to people because I didn't feel unnerved by the energy around me. The stage was bathed in blue light. The three empty chairs, with ferns interspersed between them, gave me a sense of anticipation. The eye masks we were handed at the door heightened this feeling for me. It felt as if there might be a party game, with some slight unpredictability that would enhance the fun. 
      
What initially strikes me about your post, Stephen, is that you understood the event as a scene before experiencing it as a playback. That feels right. Meni's white dress and boots were not incidental decoration; they communicated that the event was a kind of carnivalesque space - theatrical and operating slightly outside the normal rules of social interaction. Her appearance gave us permission to expect the unexpected. She appeared to have dressed not only for the event but for the imaginative space the work itself asked us to enter: retro-futuristic, feminine, controlled, luminous, slightly alien. Because she appeared after the playback, her appearance also felt like a validation of our varied internal imaginative responses to the experimental soundscape. 
      
The contrast of her appearance with the two men on stage may well have been a failure of individual sartorial taste. However, accidental as it may have been, I also found it to be an effective foil. Meni was easily able to hold the visual and conceptual field of the event almost by herself. At the same time, the men's presentation demonstrated an asymmetry of cultural permission. Male authority is often allowed to arrive uncomposed, rumpled, ordinary, even careless. Female artistry in dress, because it is more expected, also has a kind of privilege in public. Women are allowed to carry atmosphere, beauty, and coherence, even though they are also often expected to enact that symbolic labour. 
      
That imbalance became part of the performance, whether anyone intended it or not. The stage picture quietly exposed who is permitted to appear as an expert without adornment, who needs to dress up to be received as one, and what that dressing up costs. Meni's costume was beautiful. However, it also leaned into her identity as a performance artist rather than only as a musical innovator. I was reminded of Hedy Lamarr, one of the most beautiful actresses from the Golden Age of Hollywood, whose technological inventions anticipated later developments in wireless communications. Even today, that far more significant contribution remains overshadowed by her glamorous persona. In this case, had Meni not performed sartorially, she might not have carried the evening so successfully. Could she have appeared in rumpled clothes and smeared makeup? Would that have drawn more attention to her genius? I suspect not. 
 
Further to this, I was also interested in your argument about spatial audio producing a kind of cathedral effect: immersive, beautiful, technically pristine, but finally perhaps too complete. That seems to me the strongest critical idea in the post. The problem is not that the music is beautiful, or even that it is overwhelming. The problem is what happens when a work leaves no remainder - no gap, no exterior, no accidental birdsong, no human roughness through which the listener can breathe. 
      
While I was experiencing it, however, I wasn't disturbed by the rules of the space or by the idealistic premise. Perhaps this was because the experience was finite for me. I didn't worry about its implications as a large collective movement or as a mass vehicle for a set of values. The producers admitted that this style of music does not lend itself easily to mass consumption. The technological setup for enjoying it is prohibitive and inconvenient. Therefore, I could contemplate beauty and accept transcendence as a gift that Ms Kermanidou and Martyn Ware were trying to offer, without feeling that I had to buy into their idealism wholesale. 
      
More troubling, for me, was the clash between the themes of the work - planetary destruction - and the medium itself, which relies on cyberstorage and power centres that may also be environmentally harmful. Even though I was struck by that potential irony, I also saw how the music fulfilled some classic roles of art: to be of its time, to generate new forms, and to make visible the contradictions of the present.       
 
It was a rich and enjoyable experience that gave me a lot to think about. I learned a lot. I took away questions that will help me to be a better thinker and artist.
 
 
Notes
 
Jennifer Davis Taylor appears here as part of the Torpedo the Ark Gastautoren Programm
 
As stated, she is an interdisciplinary scholar, author, and creative practitioner who holds a PhD from The Warburg Institute (University of London) and specializes in seventeenth-century French art and literature, women's studies, and material culture. 
      
Her forthcoming book, Designing Women: The Iconography of Charles Perrault (Peter Lang), reframes Perrault not merely as a fairy tale author but as a theorist of design whose collaborative studio practice staged radical allegories of female agency.
 
Readers are encouraged to visit the website: jenniferdavistaylor.com for further information. 
 
 

26 Jun 2026

Earth Calling the Sophia Space Agency

Melpomeni Kermanidou
Vocalist and Project Leader of the Sophia Space Agency 
 
Photo taken at The Turning Blue spatial audio playback + Q&A
Kings Place, London N1 
(24 June 2026)  
 
 
I. 
 
The other night, at Kings Place - the cultural pulse of King's Cross - I was pleased to offer my support to Melpomeni Kermanidou. A London-based, Greek-Australian composer, songwriter, music producer, and performer, Meni works across ambient, electronic synthesis, and cinematic genres [1].
 
Wearing a sleeveless white dress with a round neck, zipped front and slightly flared skirt cut above the knee - a retro space-age aesthetic from the 1960s that magically retains its clean, futuristic appeal - matched with a fabulous pair of white leather lace-up ankle boots, featuring a stacked heel and fluorescent neoprene pink details (Prada), she looked - as she always looks - extraordinarily beautiful (see the image above). 
 
 
II. 
 
Unfortunately, I can't say the same for the two gentlemen who shared the stage with her ...
 
Seventy-year-old musician, composer, arranger, record producer, and programmer Martyn Ware (yes - that Martyn Ware, founding member of the Human League and Heaven 17) sat opposite her, wearing what looked like a tie-dyed shirt and a pair of blue DC trainers. 
 
Beside him was Patrick Clarke, who interviewed Meni and Martyn in his role as journalist and Deputy Editor of online popular culture magazine The Quietus, wearing knee-length shorts that displayed the kind of pale legs forever associated with Ernie Wise (short, fat and hairy), along with a shirt that looked as if it had been slept in (and for more than one night).
 
I know it was very hot outside, but, really, they could have made a bit more of an effort. They were on a stage, after all, and in the presence of a serious artiste who has worked so hard for so long to bring this current project to fruition. To me, their complete lack of sartorial concern created a revealing tension with Meni's carefully curated aesthetic and it felt disrespectful to her professionalism, the audience, and the event (see the image below). 
 
 
III. 
 
Moving on - and remembering this was intended to be a music event and not a fashion show, I suppose I should say something about the album unveiled via spatial audio playback [2] as mixed by Martyn Ware (there was, sadly, to be no live performance on the night). 
 
Titled The Turning Blue [3], the album is a dark and experimental work of what is known as ambient music - a genre pioneered in the 1970s by the likes of Brian Eno, who coined the name and established the conceptual foundations for the genre [4]. It essentially prioritises tone, texture, and atmosphere over traditional musical structures like rhythm and melody and often incorporates elements of drone [5], minimalist classical and electronic music.   
 
Not entirely sure what to expect, I smiled when presented at the entrance to the hall with an eye mask, which we were asked to wear for the duration of the album's playing. Obviously, I wasn't going to do that. I wouldn't wear a blindfold to face a firing squad and I'm not going to do it in order to listen to some music, no matter how it's meant to enhance the immersive experience [6].
 
Actually, the album was pretty good and Melpomeni can be proud of her work. If, towards the end I got a bit bored and began to wish for ear plugs rather than an eye mask, this was not because the music lacked merit - there were intriguing elements and surprises throughout - but because I simply required a breather from its sheer intensity.  
 
Funnily enough, considering Melpomeni's Antipodean origins, rather than techno-alien I thought the album sounded a bit Aboriginal at certain points and it occurred to me that, although not inherently ambient in a modern sense, the hypnotic and sustained quality of Indigenous music could easily be adapted to the genre. At other times, I thought Meni's astonishing vocalisations came close to a form of whale song and I was reminded of Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home (dir. Leonard Nimoy, 1986). 
 
My primary concern, however, lies not with Meni's powerful compositions themselves, but with the pristine production and the spatial audio mix. Together, they constructed walls of sound which, as Martyn Ware said afterwards, had a cathedral-like quality. Such hyper-polished perfection and Wholeness becomes overwhelming and oppressive at last - every acoustic space is filled - and it is in stark opposition to the gargoyle aesthetic affirmed by Lawrence in The Rainbow (1915) [7] and championed here on Torpedo the Ark. 
 
One yearned for error and imperfection (and a little fresh air) rather than non-stop transcendent beauty and recurrent ecstasy; one listened out for sounds which existed externally to the album and I looked forward to hearing the little birds chirping in my garden in the morning; to hear a note that The Turning Blue did not include; "something free and careless and joyous" [8].
 
In space, it seems, not only can no one hear you scream, no one can hear you laugh either ...  
 
 
IV. 
 
As for the subsequent Q&A session, I enjoyed that as it gave me the opportunity to listen and learn and admire Miss Kermanidou's fabulous footwear. The stage discussion served to reinforce the deliberate nature of Melpomeni's artistic vision; the airless, clinical perfection of the mix wasn't an accident - it was exactly what she set out to achieve. 
 
And while I might personally believe in the ruins and think that a cathedral - including a cathedral of sound - is never perfectly a place of gathering until the roof has caved in and it is "mixed up with the winds and the sky and the herbs" [9] - there is no denying that Meni has executed her vision with absolute authority. 
 
The Turning Blue may not be a space I would choose to inhabit - and I was slightly relieved to step out into the chaotic streets of London once more - but it is undeniably a monument to Meni's extraordinary talent and dedication and I wish her all the success in the world. 
 
 
Martyn Ware, Patrick Clarke, and 
Melpomeni Kermanidou (SSA)
 
 
Notes
 
[1] Whilst I'm unable to provide a full biography on a post such as this, here's a bit more about Miss Kermanidou for those who are interested: Melpomeni studied modern music composition at university in Melbourne, Australia before heading over to the UK. A long-serving member of the Mediæval Bæbes, she released her own solo album in 2010: 8 Tragedies, 2 Love Songs & A Breakdown (Lighthouse Records).  
      Meni then moved into the underground sound art scene; The Turning Blue (see note 3 below) marks her return to the surface. Miss Kermanidou serves as Chair of the Ivors Academy Future Sound Experience Council, which is dedicated to spatial sound, AI, ambient music, electronic music, and the latest in music creation. She is also a full member of the Music Producers Guild and registered with Fusion Management, one of the UK's leading talent and model agencies. 
      She can be contacted via all the usual social media websites.  
 
[2] For those who don't know - and before last night that included me - spatial audio involves the use of technology to create a 3D, immersive listening experience by simulating sounds as if they are coming from all around you. 
      Unlike traditional stereo sound - which only plays through left and right channels - spatial audio adds height and depth, making it feel like you are sitting in the middle of a soundscape. 
 
[3] The Turning Blue is the seven-track debut album from the experimental dark ambient sound project conceived by Melpomeni Kermanidou and known as the Sophia Space Agency. Mixed in spatial audio by Martyn Ware, it uses extensive vocal processing to create synthesised alien soundscapes.
      The Turning Blue is released independently on 17 July 2026 on digital platforms; a limited edition vinyl version, mastered in stereo by Rafael Anton Irisarri will be released later in the year.
 
[4] In 1978, Brian Eno - a one-time member of Roxy Music (1971-73) - released the album Ambient 1: Music for Airports (E.G. Records /Polydor). Punk rock it ain't! 
 
[5] Again, for those who might not be au fait with this genre - and again, before last night that included me - this is a minimalist type of music using sustained sounds, notes, or tone clusters (called drones). It is typically characterised by lengthy compositions featuring relatively slight harmonic variations. 
 
[6] I could tell the ageing hippie sitting next to me wasn't too impressed with my refusal to give myself over to the experience and play ball by wearing the eye mask. 
      But I don't like the enforcement of aesthetic compliance under strictly curated conditions; it's bad enough having to sit still and be quiet for the duration of a performance or playback, but being told to wear a blindfold in an already darkened hall and instructed on how to listen to pre-recorded audio seemed a bit much to me. Having said that, watching as audience members willingly blindfold themselves on command highlighted the immense control an artist can exert not only over her own work, but its reception.
      Ultimately, I'm just not a very good audience member for the same reason I'd make a lousy worshipper in church - I like distractions and the odd disruption to the performance, playback, or ceremony; anything to break the magic spell. 
 
[7] See D. H. Lawrence, The Rainbow, ed. Mark Kinkead-Weekes (Cambridge University Press, 1989), Chapter VII, 'The Cathedral', pp. 183-195. I have referred to the gargoyle aesthetic many times on TTA.
      For me, it includes cracks, gaps, fragments, ruins, ruptures, breakdowns, and not just the "wicked, odd little faces carved in stone" that peep out of the "grand tide of the cathedral" and expose the illusion of Wholeness (The Rainbow, 189). 
 
[8] D. H. Lawrence, The Rainbow, p. 191.  
 
[9] Ibid
 
 
Musical bonus: visit the Sophia Space Agency YouTube channel and play the tracks: 'Star Cycle', written by Melopemi Kermanidou and produced by Melpomeni Kermanidou and Jasper Dent; and 'What a Mess', composed and produced by Melpomeni Kermanidou and Arjun Bhamra. 
      Both tracks can be found on the album The Turning Blue (Sophia Space Agency, 2026) - which may or may not come with an official SSA eye mask:
 
 

 
 
For a thoughtful sister post to this one by Jennifer Davis Taylor, please click here