Installations

In Tune, out of tune (2009)

Mon, 14 Dec 2009 14:20:02 +0000

In Tune, Out of Tune

"Do you have a song that reminds you of your childhood? Would you hum it for me?"

Now that the Palace of the Republic is gone, we have this green place. What is this strange place? To me, this place is unreal; as if it were stripped of its context. At least, this place is comforting, like any open, green grass would be. Lying in the middle of the grass, suddenly I can imagine hearing people humming. Perfect. Of course, people would hum in this kind of a place. But what would they hum?

So I asked some fifty people who have lived in Berlin, long enough to witness the heated debates about, and the consequent demolition of the Palace of the Republic. And, they hum like this.

The first name of the participants (I could not get the name of some other participants): Gabriel, Heidemarie, Horst, Lena, Isabel, Martin, Penko, Ulrika, Sebastian, Sabine, Gwydion, Sophie, Michael, Folkmar, Gabi, Nick, Fred, Shai, Dave, Maebh, Anders, Rosemarie, Stephanie, Stefan, Daisuke, Doris, Michael, Valerie, Frank, Nora, Christian, Heinz, Andrea, Elke, Katharina, Lee, Ada, Luise, Jutta, Florian, Kyoungjin, Wonjun, Soobin, Joonsik, Yesol, Soyun, Eunkyoung, Chikook, Alexander, Verity...

Souvenirs for your itineraries (2009)

Mon, 14 Dec 2009 13:11:41 +0000

These are the sounds that the traveler has collected while exploring deep into Hasla.
They are archaic, showing the vestige of either some dialects spoken only in certain parts of the region or the sounds you may experience while crossing there.
Listen closely and you will hear stories of how places in Halsa came into being.
Grab one or two and bring them close to your ears! They are for your itineraries to Hasla.

The 120 piezo discs in Souvenirs for Your Itineraries are driven by ten PCBs, each of which has 12 outputs. Each PCB has six independent audio channel and each channel consists of a voltage-triggering component (NE555 chip), an oscillator (CD4093), and an amplifier (LM386). Since each component (except the amplifier) is made of resistors and capacitors whose value is different from those of other components, they make different sounds at a different time interval. Furthermore, some of the triggering components are equipped with photo resistors, which randomize the voltage-trigging sequences depending on the ambient light.

Mnemon (2009)

Mon, 14 Dec 2009 12:44:53 +0000

On the TV screen, a teller (or the traveler himself) continues to name the cities in Hasla, and a wooden board on the desk shows the trace of the traveler who struggled not to forget those names by writing them on it again and again. We can no longer know what these cities are called, and are only left with the sounds of the scribbling on the plate.

I recorded the sounds of me writing on the board the names of the cities in Halsa. These sounds were then juxtaposed together and further manipulated by filters that made the sounds as if they were voices. More specifically, the formants information of the vowels of the city names were used with the filters so that, even though unrecognizable, each sound attached to the movement of the mouth on the TV makes the listener imagine the names.

Sound Screen (2009)

Mon, 14 Dec 2009 12:32:26 +0000

Sit back and enjoy this 50-minute soundscape piece, which will take you to Hejning, a city in Hasla. While this is not a documentary, it might as well be viewed in that way. Draw whatever comes to you on these screens where there is nothing to see. Sounds will guide you to Hejning.

There are six black panels, creating a personal listening space. Attached at the back of each panel are two NTX exciters, which you can see from pictures below. Sound materials come from a variety of sources including Mnemon. All four sound installations at this exhibition (A Travel Log: From Fwarrheu to Hejning) are interrelated in terms of the sounds you hear and how they are presented.

Memory Tub (2009)

Sun, 13 Dec 2009 21:18:02 +0000

"I don't remember any of it."

"You were there, though, weren't you?"

"Yes, but things are getting blurred, you know. it's no wonder, really. I don't remember much of what happened yesterday anyway."

"But you said you were there. Is that all you now remember? That you once existed in that place?"

"That is the thing. I don't remember it, but somehow, my body knows it—that I was there. I can feel it, you know. It really is a strange feeling. It's kind of a deja vu—you don't remember having been there, having seen or experienced it, but somehow, you just know that it is part of your past. But it is strange because, though it is part of your past, it is not part of you. I know that this is not helping me much to remember it as I think you said so the other day, but I can't help it just as I can't help but to know my having being there even though I don't remember it. For they are the same. They feel same to me: they both happen immediately, so much so that I am appalled every time it does. Then comes the sense of coldness as if somebody put a knife on my tongue."

Thinking tree - installation (2002)

Mon, 7 Apr 2008 21:09:24 +0100

“…I am interested in a static moment. I believe that we experience the world and its beauty by experiencing its static moments. In any given static moment, our perception and understanding of the world expand at an accelerating rate. I also believe that we perceive the world not in time; rather, our perception takes a big leap at that moment. While the moment is static, it is eternal. Personally, my understanding of the world is made of a set of the moments, where all the memories of these moments are meshed together. There was a moment when one person sat below a tree. He then made a big perceptual leap there, experiencing the world, listening and feeling the every detail of what the world is made of. I consider it a personal listening session …I want to create that kind of personal space. “
From a letter to a friend while developing ideas for Thinking Tree

Thinking Tree is an installation that attempts to create a personal listening space. It consisted of 8 small speakers hanging from the ceiling, which create a small space enough to surround one listener just above her head. Sound playback and real-time manipulation are made by a program written in Max/MSP, which constantly plays and changes sound materials.
There are two additional loudspeakers siting on the floor, located far away from the listener, facing towards the smooth, concrete, walls, which reflect the sound played from these two speakers. This soundscape is differentiated from that created by the eight small speakers hung from the ceiling. Once in a while, the “outer” soundscape invades the personal space of the listener.
The room in which the installation is located has no light, except the two light bulbs also hung from the ceiling and hidden inside the sculpture made of tree branches. I had collected these branches in early January, 2002, in the suburb of Chicago. The light bulbs create an enigmatic shadow of trees. At the end of the strings on which these light bulbs are hung are small motors, which touch the strings once in a while, causing the shadow of the tree to tremble as if wind had caressed it.
The overall experience, the artist hoped to create with the installation, is the uneasiness of the moment in eternity.