Shot by: @polawalczynska
In the world of Chair, nothing is quite as it seems. A simple piece of furniture becomes a profound connection, a pop melody disguises a post-punk snarl, and a rock concert can, without warning, transform into a surreal circus.
Fresh off the wave of national acclaim from their appearance on Must Be the Music, the international duo of Cura and Hubert Kurkiewicz brought their uniquely Polish-brand of absurdist art-rock to a packed and delightfully unhinged Baza, for a night that was as much a performance art piece as it was a gig.
The first clue that this would be no ordinary show was the dress code. Clowns. They were everywhere. Not just the band, who took the stage in full, gloriously garish clown regalia, but a significant portion of the audience, who had fully embraced the invitation into Chair’s grotesque and playful universe. This wasn't just a concert - it was a collective, costumed immersion into their world.
The musical core - a blend of Joy Division's cold-wave tension and Britpop's melodic grasp - was tight and powerful, but Chair consistently subverted rock tradition. The evening’s most unforgettable moment came when Cura, a visual artist as much as a musician, launched into a live juggling routine mid-set. The spectacle was both ridiculous and mesmerizing, a perfect metaphor for their art: finding profound skill in the seemingly frivolous. This communal spirit peaked when they invited a fan from the crowd on stage to juggle alongside them during a song, breaking the fourth wall and fully dissolving the line between performer and audience.
Their success on Must Be the Music hasn’t sanded down their edges; it has given them a larger canvas for their eccentricities. They previewed unreleased material that suggests their sonic palette is only expanding, promising more of the sweet-and-sour commentary on everyday life that has become their signature.
As the final notes faded in the clown-filled room, one thing was certain: Chair is not just a band to listen to. They are a universe to step into, a Dadaist manifesto disguised as a rock duo. And based on the ecstatic, painted faces leaving Baza, Krakow is more than ready to take a seat.
