If a tree falls in a forest and no-one is around to hear it, does it make a sound? So goes the popular philosophical thought experiment – and you could well flip it round when considering Wolfgang Voigt’s long-running art-sound project GAS.

Voigt is on an audio, visual and perception-challenging journey into the depths of an imaginary Bavarian forest, a bewildering experience more concerned with the fantastical potential of nature than the sound of a tree crashing down. It’s a mysterious world probably best experienced vicariously as an audience member rather than its often-nightmarish state, as dull heartbeats throb beneath impending rushes of orchestral strings and horns.

Focusing on his fifth album as GAS, Narkopop, the co-founder of seminal German techno label Kompakt has amassed a discerning cohort of admirers over the 20 year life of the project, the sold out Attenborough Centre show an impressive booking from Brighton-based Dictionary Pudding Promotions. At times beautiful, Voigt’s photography is projected large, vast shafts of sunlight beaming down onto the vivid fauna of the forest floor.

The mesmerising imagery brings to mind another philosophical allegory - Plato’s cave – whose prisoners begin to experience gradual enlightenment through the shadows of firelight. The bows of Voigt’s towering trees refract beams of sunlight in similarly strange ways, manipulating perceptions of the world. A mood of menace is never far away, Voigt’s abstract compositions prodding around the dark fringes of human consciousness.

In a glib but not erroneous blurb, GAS is described as like Hansel and Gretel on acid, his imagery becoming inverted into an alternate reality.  This is an uncompromising work almost absent of a human imprint, evocative of the vast voids of deep space or an eternal soul.