In conversation with the forces behind Montreal’s most dedicated music and technology festival
Y2K was the turbulent turn of the millennium. It was the year computers were supposed to glitch the entire world…
But computers were doing other work in 2000, especially in music. They were showing up in more studios and on more stages. In a way, glitching the public’s idea of what a live performance looks like.
“You call that music!”
“What if they’re just playing something off iTunes?”
“The artist isn’t even doing anything!”
These are the early growing pains in electronic music that Alain Mongeau—founder of MUTEK—was coming up against in the 00s.
“In the first years, no one had musical backgrounds. They were more like geeks, playing around with tools” says Mongeau. “But eventually they become musicians. And then the music’s really good” adds Patti Schmidt, curator at the festival since 2008.
‘Computer music’ has been around since early experiments in the 60s and 70s. The undertakings of Iannis Xenakis or Laurie Spiegel and Max Matthews from the Bell Labs were groundbreaking. But the laptop as a performance instrument on a stage, was a separate kind of revolution.
Since its creation in 2000, MUTEK has been exploring that revolutionary intersection of music (‘mu’) and technology (‘tek’). Mongeau’s background in communications and multimedia—spiked with raving, utopianism and visits to Berlin in the 90s—was the foundation behind the festival’s ethos.
MUTEK’s focus was—and is—taking the artistic practice of electronic music seriously, instead of treating the music as a mere backdrop to hedonism.
17 years later, the artists and public have come of age too. Musicians and geeks are less distinguishable from each other. Laptops on stage are not a conundrum anymore. Computers have permeated all spheres of music. MUTEK has seen it all evolve, already seeking the next barrier to push.
In conversation with Mongeau and Schmidt at Schmidt’s Montreal home, we delved into the legacy of the World’s most dedicated music and technology festivals, the notion of ‘avant-garde’ today, the story of the MUTEK’s international offshoots and how artists and audiences have transformed over the years.
Leticia Trandafir: What are your backgrounds and how did they bring you to MUTEK?
Alain Mongeau: MUTEK is the result of a personal interest in electronic music and digital art, and of my professional trajectory. I have a PhD in Communications and I taught multimedia while also making digital art.
I’ve shown artwork at different symposiums, notably the ISEA Symposium on Electronic Arts in Australia. In 1995 we brought the symposium to Montreal. I became the artistic director—that was my first professional initiation to organizing events. So I left the university and dedicated myself to that.
After the symposium, I got involved with the Festival du Nouveau Cinéma (FNC). FNC had started integrating a new media component. I was in charge of that for a few years. That’s where I developed a know-how in events organization.
Patti Schmidt: Did you know what a good event was then, or did you have to learn that over time?
A: The reason I continued doing it was the positive reaction we were getting. ISEA was at its fifth or sixth edition. It turned out to be one of the best ones—to the point where the organization asked us to host the headquarters. So it actually moved to Montreal for five years and I was in charge of that.
P: You were in your early thirties, right?
A: Yeah. At the FNC, I had a similarly successful experience. Since I was coming from a communications background, I was perhaps more attentive to content—diving into content, curating content… Not that I like that notion so much… But it was always about putting ideas and artists together, making sets out of it, and presenting a panorama of what was happening.
The whole new media component of the FNC had quite an impact on the scene here. Personally, I was more attracted to electronic music. So when I got the opportunity to merge both my personal interests and my newly acquired know-how, I came up with the MUTEK festival idea.
L: At the time, what were your models for festivals merging music, technology and digital art?
A: The first edition of Sónar took place in 1994. I knew about it, but I didn’t go until the late 90s. I was more inspired by the idea of what Sónar was about—music, creativity and technology.
Even earlier than that, I went to the famous Berlin LOVE Parade in ’91 or ’92. Those were the early years of the parade. The year I went they had 80, 000 people. One or two years later they had over a million people. It exploded.
But the most interesting part was what was happening in the city at the same time. There was a festival called Interference Festival that took place at Trésor, a magnificent old club. This was the first attempt that I could see of a festival about the artistic practice behind electronic music. Back then this kind of music was more about raving and partying.
This was the first attempt that I could see of a festival about the artistic practice behind electronic music. Back then this kind of music was more about raving and partying.
At raves, you didn’t have many live sets, it was more about the party. But this festival had a small catalogue, they would describe the artists, it was half live performances and half DJs. So I thought: “Okay, this is something dedicated to the artists themselves and to the art practice, not just partying.” For MUTEK that was the root, the example.
L: Patti, you joined MUTEK in 2008 correct?
P: 2008-ish. But I’d been to every edition, and I knew Alain peripherally from the FNC days because they were doing events with Cold Cut and other musical artists. It was also the early days of internet being stable. I was working at the CBC since 1991 and we would tape concerts and put them on the air.
A: Your show [Brave New Waves] was kind of a partner of MUTEK.
P: Yes, really early on—which no other mainstream programs were doing really. Although there were moments when MuchMusic and MusiquePlus would play Cabaret Voltaire and the like. So there was still a little bit of that in the air.
If we backtrack even more, when I was 16 in the mid 80’s it was a very exciting time to experience contemporary music. The Smiths, American punk rock, and Kraftwerk (which had been around for a while already). All the synth pop and music using technology was the stuff that was turning me on. I was mixing that with hardcore and ska when I was doing college radio at McGill University in 1987.
I kind of missed the rave thing. And I think it was because of punk rock and other identity politics. Maybe I wasn’t that open at the time.
But then I started working at CBC and it was a huge education. It’s not like I showed up there knowing everything. Avant-garde music, completely whacked-out improvisation, punk rock, new music, electronic music, acid house, Detroit techno… I got to learn about all those records as they were coming out. I was putting all of that on the air and mixing it with a wide panorama of other kinds of music.
Eventually, all this music changed my life. Going to electronic music events allowed me to move from music based in the brain—from the intellectual way of understanding music—to being able to connect the rest of my body. Maybe it was the ‘artified’ context that made it more possible for me to enter some of those spaces. Then I became totally evangelical about it. Always trying to bring people in, it was revelatory for me.
I also have a graduate degree in art history and communications. In university, I would usually try to turn all of my work into ways to study music and scenes—the theoretical and conceptual things that were going on. I wanted to understand contemporary music. So I became a bit of an advocate for genres that are ignored by the mainstream.
Going to electronic music events allowed me to move from music based in the brain—from the intellectual way of understanding music—to being able to connect the rest of my body.
Through the work at CBC radio, I was able to connect with a lot of different music communities over twenty years. Those communities know me and trust me now. I tried to never be a dick with whatever power I might’ve had on air, because I was also a musician and ran labels and these sorts of things too. Media power is temporal. I’ve been able to leverage some of those relationships over the years too, and it’s been exciting to be able to stay in the game.
Around 2000, I got really interested in the technology that was happening with laptops and the ability of artists to play live. The sophistication and complexity in the language and syntax of electronic music, all the different timbres that were possible and the compositional weirdness that was possible… I still want to be on that river. It’s more interesting to me than being a classic rock fan.
I think that there’s really exciting things going on with art and music, and audiovisual practices in particular really caught up. At first it was a little bit VJ glue-on for some of them… But now there’s sophisticated softwares and the thinking has changed, and I think that’s a really exciting area.
Contemporary music expressions, no matter what, genre is super important to me. It was really easy to team up with the projects that Alain was interested in. It made perfect sense.
Leticia: When you started at MUTEK, was there a particular thing you thought, “I want to bring this to MUTEK”?
P: Part of my job at CBC was to be a little evangelical. That meant to present new things, to turn people on to things they don’t know they like yet. Or to capture that 10% of the population who might be curious.
I don’t think you’re ever gonna convert everybody over. But people don’t know what they don’t know until they know it! So it’s a fun job to work in, an area where you can provide that to people.
Going to clubs was a revelation for me. “I don’t know what the DJ is playing and I don’t care!” Removing the familiarity of the song or of what music stands for from that experience.
I don’t think you’re ever gonna convert everybody over. But people don’t know what they don’t know until they know it!
When you are able to start articulating that to people, or setting up the context for them to it find out by themselves and seeing it happen—it’s amazing.
Leticia: What was Montreal like as a place to do something like this, especially in those first iterations of the festival in the early 2000s?
A: Personally, I had been surfing the rave movement in Montreal. I also went to many events in the US. I was turned on by the early years of rave where everything was very utopian and new. I was inspired by the idea of creating a space where you would take over the night, find new spaces, new music, etc.
It was very underground for many years. After awhile—maybe around ’95 or ’96—it got kind of co-opted by more commercial forces. It was the birth of the afterhours movement in Montreal. It was all going back to clubs, and becoming increasingly commercial. The spark and utopian nature of things was getting diluted. So the idea of MUTEK was to recapture something of the initial enthusiasm.
On the other hand, there was also this idea that electronic music never really caught on in North America. I always felt like we were at least one or two trains late in relation to what was happening in Europe. Having traveled a lot, I saw what was happening over there. It was already so strong—especially in Germany—where there’s a whole culture and infrastructure developed around it. Electronic music culture was also something that helped the two Germanys reconnect.
And here, we felt a bit isolated. So the idea with MUTEK was to start something here, and bring some of the artists we respect.
P: I think there’s some prerequisites about Montreal that make it really ripe for this—special elements that don’t exist in the rest of the country. I’ve been in the rest of Canada, and there’s a reason I live here.
This idea of dance culture, of sensuality of the body, disco, clubs—it existed here. People stay up late at night. There isn’t the same kind of prohibition, Anglo-Saxon Protestant thing that happens in say, Ontario.
There’s also definitely this idea that you can pursue an artistic life in Montreal. Artists in other cities have to justify their experience as artists all the time. Whereas it’s really part of French and francophone culture.
There’s a general support for an avant-garde sensibility that comes out of that too. People are proud of the avant-garde composers who come from Quebec. And I think that despite the potential linguistic restraints, Montreal and Quebec have always projected themselves into the world in a much sexier, more effective way than any other city in Canada. So I think all of that made it possible.
A: The initial drive was much more about having the impression that we were losing the relation to what I nurtured in this movement: creativity and something raw.
There’s two important aspects also. First, I was so happy to escape clubs with the rave movement. Commercialization was bringing it back to this prefixed format, where you go in a club. I don’t like going to clubs. Second, I felt like everything was happening elsewhere, and we had to do something about it. Either leave, or do something about it here.
The FNC years were also really important. I was able to test some ideas that became a foundation for MUTEK itself. I had a good budget and brought a lot of artists. I realized that artists love to come to Montreal. They would come here for the first time, and they would just be flabbergasted by the city. That gave me confidence that there’s something to do in Montreal.
Maybe we don’t have the beaches that Sónar has in Barcelona, maybe we don’t have the underground awesomeness of Berlin. But in the North American context, there’s something about Montreal that’s worth tapping into.
L: It seems like there is also a tendency to look outward instead of saying, “Maybe there’s something to do with what we already have.”
A: I definitely think there are cycles. When you get older you can look backwards and have a different perspective. When I look back at Montreal, there have been ups and downs.
For the first years of MUTEK in the early ’00s, there was a lot of enthusiasm around our little scene. A lot of people moved to Montreal from elsewhere because of MUTEK. They felt something was happening. So for a few years it became a convergence point.
We were left with, “Okay, what are we doing here?” We had to retap into the essence of what the festival was about and work with new generations of artists.
Then after about six years of MUTEK here, we lost the plot again. The market being what it is here, a lot of people moved to Europe. Montreal’s a small city, and North America isn’t so hot on electronic music, it’s also harder to tour…. All the musicians that we helped develop, they just left.
We were left with, “Okay, what are we doing here?” We had to retap into the essence of what the festival was about and work with new generations of artists. It’s a bit depressing in Montreal, when you see everyone leaving. “It’s happening elsewhere again” I thought. But then it flows, comes back, there’s more artists coming. So it’s kind of interesting in that way.
L: Was that balance between local artists and international acts there from the beginning?
P: In those early years, you had young producers like Mark Leclair (Akufen), Mike Shannon, and Dead Beat—it was still kind of a small community globally. Matthew Herbert would show up, and those guys would get to hang out with him. They would perform on the same stage and they would be like, “Oh my God, I really need to up my game,” or “Wow! What is he doing with that thing over there?”
Those are some examples up close where you get to be challenged as an artist and it’s super valuable. I’ve seen how this has worked with many different generations of artists who’ve come through the festival. It’s really exciting and important for us to be able to offer that.
It was the same in programming radio. I didn’t have Canadian content restrictions. But I would go out of my way to make sure that if I was playing Canadian music, people would know about it. It would also be nestled beside other things of quality. It never did anybody a service to just play something out of quota.
This function has become more solidified, more articulated, and sophisticated. There are now export ideas, the other MUTEKs around the world, and the circulation of Canadian audiovisual artists. Bringing them elsewhere has been a really interesting result of how this dynamic has worked out over the years.
L: And how did the international branches of Mutek come about?
A: Part of the inspiration for MUTEK came from looking elsewhere, feeling like it’s all happening elsewhere and trying to do something about it.
But after the first edition of MUTEK, we got contacted by different cities in Europe to do something with us. That was kind of weird, because we felt we were losers over here—totally isolated! We took their gesture of trying to connect with us as an indication that we were doing something that people noticed. So we realized that being here and connecting to what’s happening elsewhere could be a fuel to nurture or develop.
The first invitation we got to do a showcase was in Berlin as part of the CTM Festival. We did a MUTEK night—it was the beginning of quite an adventure. What’s really interesting is the way that everything has developed in an organic way, and it came through mainly the connection that was established by bringing artists from abroad to MUTEK.
The first festival we did outside of Montreal was in Chile because we brought Ricardo Villalobos and another artist called Dandy Jack to MUTEK. There’s also a personal story: I lived in Chile when I was young. When they found that out, they said, “You should come with us! We go there every year to spend the Christmas Holidays.” So I went for the first time in twenty-five years, through the connection with these artists.
When I was there, they said, “You should do MUTEK here. We’re gonna introduce you to people who will help you develop the project and bring it here.” We got to work and it happened the following year.
And just about every out of town MUTEK has a story similar to that one. It’s always at this human level.
L: That’s really cool. I want to turn to the concept of ‘avant-garde.’ What does it mean to you?
P: I think avant-garde is a timeless concept. And maybe you have to shift what your definition is all the time. There are cycles of: “That’s not avant-garde anymore, that’s commercial now.”
My avant-garde is not somebody else’s avant-garde, depending on who heard something first.
Avant-garde can be novel, a kind of non-commercial, maybe something you haven’t heard before. Something singular—and by that I mean the artist’s voice is unique and stands out. Something avant-garde is ingenious and perspective-altering.
So, my avant-garde is not somebody else’s avant-garde, depending on who heard something first.
It’s about being brave. For quality avant-garde, I like to have a sense that it’s put together, that there’s thoughtfulness. Even someone’s intuition can be genius too on some level.
A: The Canadian architect Phyllis Lambert said, “The second you claim you’re avant-garde, you’re not avant-garde.” So that’s kind of a term I never use… maybe I slip it in a grant submission, or when I want to be a bit obnoxious. But it’s not something that I claim for anything I would do. I think it’s always much more about novelty.
It’s more about research, investigation, pushing the boundary, the notion of exploration. In the term ‘MU-TEK’ there’s the connection between music and technology. It’s also about following the mutations of creativity as it’s inspired by the use of technology.
In the term ‘MU-TEK’ there’s the connection between music and technology. It’s also about following the mutations of creativity as it’s inspired by the use of technology.
A lot of the artists doing electronic music are not ‘musicians.’ Most of them won’t even say that. I mean maybe today it’s different, but in the first years no one had musical backgrounds. They were more like geeks, just playing around with technology. It was more like making sculptures with sounds, music, beats…
P: But eventually they become musicians. And then the music’s really good.
A: Eventually. But for many years, it was just people exploring with their tools.
P: Which drove a lot of people crazy and didn’t provide entry points for audiences!
A: Take Brian Eno. He never said he was a musician. He was more an explorer.
But then, after a while, some trained musicians got interested in that field. And then you saw waves of artists trying to bring musicianship to the mix. We were the first ones to have laptops at shows. We always follow the development of these technologies.
Music: Mister Something / Video: Silent Partners / Graphic design: Nouvelle Administration
One of the early artists we presented even before MUTEK itself was Robert Henke—who eventually became the developer of Ableton Live. He’s been part of the fabric of the festival since the beginning. He developed tools because he was frustrated by the state of the practice back then. These tools got huge.
So we’ve been tracking the mutations of how people react to those technologies. For a lot of musicians or electro-acousticians, electronic music is not real music. There’s that barrier. And then we had people like Nils Frahm or Hauschka, trained musicians that have no prejudice against electronic music. Those are some of the people who transform it from inside.
We poke here and there, we try to follow, make some crossovers, cross-pollination. We bring people who we think will be interesting, and see if they can provoke new ideas and a new drive.
P: This idea of the early days, of geekdom and of how electronic music was presented had this academic sheen around it—although Detroit techno is different. There was that whole argument about organic versus digital, and ‘is it real?’ ‘is it authentic?.’ It used to be something to comment on if a musician crossed over to the electronic side. And it used to be a conversation or a discourse that happened all the time. Now we’re over that. These are the tools that are available—some people will use pianos, but they will also know how to use MIDI, you know? It’s not a problem. That debate stopped.
A: It stopped but it resurfaces. For many years, the first time we had laptop concerts, there was the novelty of it, but then people complained about it…
P: “No gesture? What is happening?!”
A: Ableton Live allowed for recomposition on stage, but that was boring to watch so they had to develop interfaces. I remember stories about some people playing iTunes and fights about what it really means to play live. The same with video proejctions: “was that pre-rendered?” But you’ll also have someone who is doing pre-rendered visuals, and what they’re presenting is so much more spectacular.
P: The idea of virtuosity is totally subverted by electronic music, just because of the lack of gesture. How can you tell? Are the judgments of virtuosity just based on these old classical models, where you have to see action, sweating? Then you can judge whether it has virtuosity or not?
These were all these things that the festival had to fight about—and maybe they haven’t totally gone away.
I remember thinking in 2008: “How are we going to get an article in a mainstream paper like La Presse?” Well, we had put forward the most ‘musical musician’ and then tell them, “Don’t be afraid, everyone calm down, it’s gonna be alright.” Maybe that’s died down a bit because really, everything is electronic music and digital music now.
But still in North America you have to fight against this rockist or pop idea that things are not music unless they’re organized into albums and song structures with refrains. We still have to fight the idea that familiarity is one of the greatest values of a song, or that a specific kind of feeling should be delivered to the listener.
I still feel like that’s the thing that people haven’t quite gotten over. Maybe it will never happen.
A: What we try to do when we put the program together is to create an experience. It’s a five or six day immersion where you will go through so many different states by being exposed to so many different interesting artists.
And just because you like an artist’s music, it doesn’t mean they’re going to give a good performance. Sometimes it’s just boring. Sometimes, we know a certain artist deserves to be in the festival but it’ll take ten years to have the right context. Then when they come, they blow everybody’s minds. And there’s so many stories like that.
So, again, going back to the question, is it avant-garde or not, it’s not really about that. It’s about the idea of keeping this global idea alive, of exploring, pushing and being inclusive.
P: The practice of research and discovery, of being curious— that’s the frame of mind that we hope to give to people. We’re super lucky to have an audience that cares about that and trusts us. They complain to you when something goes wrong or if they didn’t like it. But I like to hear those stories.
A: It’s hard, because the whole festival is based around discovery, but you don’t sell tickets with new artists. We have to push. It’s this sort of relationship where people get to trust us.
Funny enough, year after year we do surveys about what people want to see next year. They ask for what we’ve already done in the last years. And I’m thinking: “Don’t you get it? We’re trying to bring new people!” But there’s this idea that we have to bring people back. So it’s a complex balance to strike.
P: Headliners and what’s familiar will feed into our strategy to make people discover new artists. “You came to see this, but you’re gonna love that!”
Of course you put the emerging artists a little bit earlier, but everything gets set up. Nothing is filler. Everything that’s in there matters. It’s all there on purpose.
L: So how has the Montreal audience evolved as an audience?
A: The Montreal audience is quite difficult. It’s quite spoiled too.
P: Now it is.
A: It’s always been complicated. Nearly 50% of our audience comes from outside of Montreal. Without those statistics, the festival would not exist, even today. Montreal never fully supported MUTEK the way it could’ve. So that’s kind of a weird relationship. But we never gave up. We try and try again. This year we yielded to the fact that the Montreal audience has too much going on in the spring.
P: And no money.
A: So we’re trying something else, because we still want to please the Montreal audience.
That being said, I think we’ve maintained a relatively good relationship with the artistic community in Montreal, just because half of our program has maintained this self-induced mandate of 50% Canadian content and 50% international. This encourages us to develop different strategies to involve the scene.
P: For emerging artists who have a really good idea going on in their work, putting them on a big system in a good context creates this really special opportunity to try something out in proper clothes, you know? And I think that’s been cool for the connection with the local community and a lot of them know it. It’s fun to be able to provide that opportunity—and there aren’t many opportunities for that kind of production in Montreal.
A: But the Montreal audience is quite difficult. I think it’s a guest list mentality. They still complain today that the festival is expensive, but we have so much to offer and so many artists on display. Some will spend maybe 50$ to go to Stereo for one artist one night, and they’ll complain when we charge 30$ or 35$ for 3-4 artists—some of whom rarely play here.
P: MUTEK is a festival experience too. Even if you’re a zombie at the end, there’s something really rewarding about going through the whole thing. We leave a little treasure trail for you to follow and try to balance it out so that you’re not totally blasted. The local audience tends not to commit to the finds.
A: People who come from outside, they’re committed. Some Montrealers got it after a while but many go to one or two shows—they just dip in and out. After a while, some people realize “Oh, yeah, I should do the Mutek thing” and they take holidays and do the festival in Montreal.
P: But we’ve had to think about it more consciously in the last few years; about how to engage with the local audience that we are going to assume is not going to buy passes for the whole thing. How do we connect with communities and audiences?
A: When other international organizations try to organize things in Montreal, they sometimes come out of that experience and tell us: “Gosh, we don’t know how you guys do it, this was tough.” Because the thing is, the public here is knowledgeable, quite critical and vocal about things.
Leticia: MUTEK’s coming up, what are some of the most important conversations, or things that have come back in conversations?
A: Our network is reaching a new critical mass. Mexico’s been around for 15 years, Barcelona for 8 years, last year we added Tokyo, this year there’s Buenos Aires, there’s discussions about new cities… There’s kind of a resonance in the network itself, it opens up a kind of whole new paradigm of possibilities.
We’re sending a lot of Montreal artists to the editions in Tokyo, Mexico, Buenos Aires edition…There’s fruitful exchanges between the different players in the network, which tells me that there’s something new shaping up.
P: It’s worth noting though that MUTEK never scouts a location. We don’t come in and drop a pin down. All these people approach us because they see something valuable in the way we do things. We’re always gonna have a discussion with the various MUTEK franchises about what that moment is for them, the values of the festival, and the possibilities.
MUTEK is not a brand in the sense that you can just slap the name on something and people go “Yeah!” We’re not about parachuting into places and then leaving. It has to be cultivated by someone who’s connected to the ground and cares about wanting to put that thankless, expensive work into making an event for community, cultural and aesthetic reasons. We used to call it this the ‘Open Source model.’
A: From a Canadian perspective, the political alignment at the moment is good, the new government pouring more funding in the arts. After 20 years, there’s no other event that’s doing what we’re doing in Canada. There’s New Forms in Vancouver which is great, but it’s a different scale.
We feel like we have a role to play on a Pan-Canadian scale, but that always depends on the funding. They’ve announced new funding but we haven’t seen any of it yet, nobody has. We hope it’ll open up new connections. But that’s kind of boring!
L: No, it’s actually super interesting, I was thinking about that. I asked myself: What are the other festivals around here that people are pumped about? MUTEK is the main one that comes to mind. There are other ones, like Moog Fest, now Sustain-Release, the small TUF fest in Seattle. The contemporary and edgier side of electronic music culture in North America is getting more interesting.
But when I think of larger but still edgy festivals, I tend to think about European festivals like CTM in Berlin, Unsound in Poland, Club to Club in Italy, Rewire in the The Netherlands, Astropolis in France, Sónar in Spain … In North America big festivals tend to be perhaps more commercial.
P: And they don’t have mandates to support local artists, except for putting them on opening slots. They don’t think about their careers or development, of nurturing them in the larger sense.
L: In Montreal, there’s very little industry to speak of. Montreal, in my mind, offers more a fertile ground for experimenting, and becoming an artist, and forming your practice, and then you have a few big institutions that might be able to help you. Where do you go after that development phase? Festivals are a major way of doing that, and MUTEK is quite a big step for those artists here. It provides this vision to look outward and connect with other people.
P: For five ephemeral days a year…
Get your tickets for MUTEK 2017 happening August 22 to 27. Follow MUTEK Montreal on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Vimeo and SoundCloud. Find out about MUTEK Mexico, MUTEK Barcleona, MUTEK Tokyo and MUTEK Buenos Aires.