Friday, 6 May 2011
Monday, 28 March 2011
Jorinde Voigt - Grammatik
Jorinde Voigt's Grammatik combines  several parameters, such as spinning aeroplane propellers, writing on  the propellers (64 grammatical possibilities, declination of the  personal pronouns, who loves who, who doesn't love who) and the size of  the blades (the first person singular corresponds to the biggest blade.  The third person plural corresponds to the smallest blade). Next to  that, the installation defines the grammatical system even more precise  by the declination of the rotation speed, 0 to maximum, individually  controllable speed (the artist does not specify how fast each blade has  to turn; every speed within the possible range is correct) and the  declination of the direction of rotation: turning to the left or to the  right. Technically, this corresponds to whether the blade turns away  from or towards the observer. 
(source) 
Joyce Hinterding - Aura
| Aura is made of graphite and gold drawings which, when connected to a sound system, become fractal antennas. As soon as i took off my camera to take a picture, i realized that the drawings made audible the presence of electromagnetic fields within the gallery. A text about the work explains that tracing one's finger over Hinterding's lines produces electrical sounds akin to those emitted by a theremin. (source) | 
Fernando Orellana - Elevator Music
Elevator's Music by Fernando Orellana from jackadam on Vimeo.
The site-specific installation “Elevator’s Music”, visits the topic  of synthetic creatures becoming sentient. What if centuries from now, we  had the technology to make any machine self-aware? In this distant  future, if an elevator could be self-aware, what would it be like? What  might an elevator think about, what might it dream about, what might it  sing about.
Hidden within the translucent ceiling panels of an elevator are  installed four servo-driven mechanisms. Controlled by microprocessors  and networked together, each robot includes a small speaker for sound  output, a microphone and sonic sensorial input, and is designed with  three axes of rotational freedom. Through this design, the mechanisms   act as the vocal cords, the eardrums, and the appendages of the  elevator. Additionally, each robot can individually “emerge” from within  the elevator’s interior by opening a sliding door in the ceiling.
At times some robots will hide within the safety of the elevators  ceiling, perhaps responding to passengers that are too loud or too  active. During moments of relative inactivity, the robots might all come  out of their shells, displaying emergent behavioral patterns driven by  the echoes, whispers, murmurs, and motions of the elevator’s passengers.
This emergent behavior is also reflected in the sounds the robots  produce, which are generated in “real-time” by the microprocessors. In  this way, the resulting real-time soundscape can be said to be elevator  music. More poignantly, one could say it was the Elevator’s Music.
The images of “Elevator’s Music” on this site document the  installation of it in 2007 at the Tang Teaching Museum at Skidmore  College in Saratoga Spring, NY.
Labels:
Installation,
Research,
Sculpture,
sound
Thursday, 3 February 2011
Saturday, 29 January 2011
RIP Rolf julius
The artist Rolf Julius has died. The Western Vinyl label, which is due to release a number of Julius’s sound works in the coming months, stated: “A beautiful human being and an extraordinary talent, Rolf Julius left the world on 21 January, 2011.”
Julius was born in Germany in 1939 and studied fine art in Bremen. In the mid 1970s he began using sound alongside his visual practice. Later he moved to Berlin and became an important figure in that city’s budding sound art scene – participating in Für Augen Und Ohren (1980), one of Europe’s first major sound art exhibitions. Over the course of a 30 year career Julius’s performances and low-volume, minimal sonic sculptures and installations developed an approach highly influential on a younger generation of sound artists.
Labels:
Sound Art
Theo Kaccoufa
Kinetic sculpture employing electronics, mechanics, found objects,  domestic appliances, furniture, water, living tree, wire, wood, steel,  brass, aluminium, stainless steel, electric motors.
Consider Theo Kaccoufa’s objects constructed from old bits of  furniture. The chair lying on its back, impotently wagging its legs in  the air like an upturned tortoise, is animated in the true sense of the  word: it has the presence of a Being. The viewer can empathise with its  helpless predicament. At the same time, the spectacle is morbidly funny,  and this collision of two normally distinct emotions creates a  lingering sense of anxiety.
In the same room is a small bed, and, like the chair, this  object gives the impression of human presence. This is not simply due to  the ghost, the absent user, that any ergonomically designed object  suggests, but rather because of the sense of theatre that the sculpture  creates. The edges of a slit in the blanket are peeled back, as if held  by a speculum during surgery. This wound or eye-like aperture frames a  body of water, exactly in the middle of which is a vortex. The shape of  the opening, the damp patch that surrounds the whirlpool, and the slit’s  position on the sheet create an unsettling impression of unruly, animal  physicality, triumphant, abject, or both.
I remember seeing these kinetic sculptures a few years ago. The small bed sculpture was
really a powerful piece...
I remember seeing these kinetic sculptures a few years ago. The small bed sculpture was
really a powerful piece...
Friday, 28 January 2011
Tetsuya Umeda & Kanta Horio
"Tetsuya Umeda: Science of Superstition"
A  bucket and a mop and a ramshackle assortment of fans  and lights — all  sprawled across the floor and ceiling of Ota Fine Arts  in east Tokyo's  Kachidoki area (www.ota.finearts.com)  — lie dormant. 
Flick  several switches, though, and a chaotic  performance ensues, pulleys  plunging objects into water-filled trash  cans, spinning rotors  connecting dangling wires to complete electrical  circuits that set off  lights and explosions of sound.
Tetsuya  Umeda's installations are as much about those  sounds as they are about  the arrangement of the everyday items he uses.  Umeda's main work is  the objects' performance, which he helps  orchestrate but is never in  control of. At Ota, he has assembled four  electrical circuits that are  connected and trigger one another with  unpredictable results: Watch for  a while and there is no regular  pattern, rather a random escalation of  noise, flashes and motion  followed by silences.
The  artist often performs in rundown buildings with  installations that  reflect the disorder around them. Ota Fine Arts is  one of the smaller  spaces that Umeda has used, as was Ota's room at the Art@Agnes   art fair in Tokyo this past January. In one of the best presentations   in the hotel fair, a pile of feathers in a bedroom, looking as if it  had  been pulled out of a comforter, would burst into the air when a fan  was  turned on by an electrical circuit being completed when wires  dipped  into the tub in the bathroom.
You  could attempt a meaningful statement about the  unpredictability of  these constructions representing the random nature  of our existence in  the world, but that would be as futile as assigning a  particular  meaning to life. Probably it's best to just sit back and  enjoy the  show.
These  two Japanese artist occasionally combine Installations with  performance/intervention in some of their collaborations together.  It's  quite interesting and gives me a lot of ideas of how I can develop my  sound sculpture/installations.
Labels:
Installation,
Instrument,
Research,
Sound Art
Thursday, 27 January 2011
L'Ikea è un labirinto, per far spendere più soldi
«Arma psicologica per confondere i favorire gli acquisti». L'azienda: «Li mettiamo solo a loro agio»
MILANO - Non è stato costruito da re Minosse per rinchiudere il Minotauro, ma l'interno dell'Ikea è un vero e proprio labirinto. Lo afferma una ricerca scientifica condotta dal professor Allan Penn, direttore del Virtual Reality Centre for the Built Environment dell'UCL (University College London). In pratica, dice il professore, la struttura dell'Ikea è un'arma psicologica tesa a confondere e disorientare i clienti in modo da farli spendere sempre di più. «Il successo dell'Ikea si basa – dice Allan Penn- su una specie di imbarazzo dei clienti che perdono l'orientamento. Per raggiungere l'uscita bisogna girovagare in una serie infinita di svolte e giravolte. In questo infinito viaggio si mettono perciò nel carrello molte più cose di quelle preventivate».
SEDE DI LONDRA - Il professore, per la sua ricerca, si è basato  sulla struttura dell'Ikea di Londra. «Ma i magazzini della società  svedese sono più o meno uguali in tutto il mondo. Ovunque c'è un  sentiero, segnato da strisce sul pavimento, lungo il quale il catalogo  dei prodotti dell'azienda assume una forma fisica perché tutti gli  oggetti sono esposti. Il concetto, insomma, è che restando nel labirinto  si resta a contatto con mobili, seggiolini, lampade, padelle. Tutti  prodotti a poco prezzo. Che vengono comprati». 
SMENTITA - Ovviamente, un portavoce dell'Ikea ha smentito le tesi  del professore londinese affermando che la struttura dell'Ikea è stata  studiata solo per mettere a proprio agio i clienti, mostrando loro tutti  i prodotti in vendita. 
ORIGINI  - L'Ikea ha 283 negozi in 26 differenti nazioni che  hanno generato, nel 2010, 2,7 miliardi di euro di profitti. E' stata  fondata nel 1943 dallo svedese Ingvar Kamprad, il quale già da piccolo  aveva il la fissa degli affari: vendeva fiammiferi ai suoi vicini di  casa. Poi si accorse che poteva pagarli meno acquistandoli da un  grossista di Stoccolma. Dopo i fiammiferi si diede alla vendita di  pesce, decorazioni per alberi di Natale, matite, sementi, penne a sfera e  altri prodotti. A 17 anni, grazie ai soldi ricevuti da suo padre per i  suoi eccellenti risultati scolastici, fondò il "labirinto", come lo  chiama il professor Penn. Kamprad, che ha 84 anni, fino a poco tempo fa  guidava un'auto vecchia di 15 anni, volava in classe economica e  raccomandava ai suoi dipendenti di scrivere sempre su tutti e due i lati  di un foglio per risparmiare la carta. 
Similar article in English below
Why shoppers find it so hard to escape from Ikea: Flatpack furniture stores are 'designed just like a maze
If you've ever found yourself hopelessly lost in an Ikea store, you were probably not alone.
The home furnishing chain’s mazy layouts are a psychological weapon to part shoppers from their cash, an expert in store design claims.
The theory is that while following a zig-zag trail between displays of minimalist Swedish furniture, a disorientated Ikea customer feels compelled to pick up a few extra impulse purchases.
A-mazing: A route a customer took through a store. Professor Alan Penn said they are designed to stop customers leaving...
My hard drive is experiencing some strange noises
The sound of a defective hard disk is picked up by a contact microphone.  The acoustic wave is instantly processed by a software that repeats and  amplifies sounds creating a resounding echo. 
Gregory Chatonsky is an artist born in Paris. He currently resides in Montreal and Paris.
He holds a philosophy master’s from the Sorbonne and a multimedia  advanced degree from the Ecole nationale superieure des beaux-arts in  Paris. He has worked on numerous solo and group projects in France, Canada, the United States, Italy, Australia, Germany, Finland and Spain. His works have been acquired by public collectors such as the Maison Europeenne de la Photographie.
I was told that my sound sculpture presented at the Containment project sounds like a defective hard disk.  
Labels:
Research,
Sound Art,
sound sculpture
Henrik Menné
The major part of Mennés production consists of large-scale machines or arrangements temporarily put at work when exhibited - all sculptures are ‘in the making’ so to say. Their process is always silent, controlled and structured by repetitive movements as the machines transform a single material - plastic, wax, metal or stone - into peculiar objects. These soft-formed elements are seldom regarded as autonomous art works and destroyed or recycled when no longer on show.
Although closed and often self-referring, the system in which the process takes place both changes the environment and is sensible to changes in the environment. The instability of the physical context is therefore what causes important marginal variations in the shapes of the particular outcome.
The static sculptures by Menné contain the same immense effort and obsessive trait when it comes to putting forces such as gravity and well-known qualities ascribed to conventional materials into play. Another more conceptual approach is to be found in the few replicas of everyday objects, which are disturbed to the point where they loose the original function.
The intriguing low tech and analogue character of all works by Henrik Menné make visible the principle on which the individual system of the particular sculpture is organised. Despite this rational transparency works by Menné almost always appear as logically impossible and tremendously beautiful.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
 


 

