Picture
a post-apocalyptic, post-reason environment: It’s a scene that looks as though
a great quake heaved the contents of a dump upward, and then time stalled. Some
cast-off objects are suspended in the air while others stand as un-silent
sentinels. Decommissioned machines and furniture whisper vague melodies, grumble,
and intone metallic echoes of a reinterpreted language. And human figures move
around this space, cautiously listening while exploring the strange terrain.
This
is one possible interpretation of the Memorial Art Gallery’s upcoming
presentation of “Rainforest IV,” an interactive sound-sculpture collaborative
performance. The installation will be accessible during the gallery’s hours through
Sunday, September 10, beginning with an opening performance on Thursday,
September 7, at 6 p.m.
Thursday
night only, an improvisational dance component will be presented by UR’s Dance
and Movement Program Director Missy Pfohl Smith, Anne Harris Wilcox, and Rose
Pasquarello Beauchamp.
Prior
to installing the altered junk objects that make up “Rainforest IV” in the MAG’s
newly renovated Grand Gallery, the collaborators — which include the MAG’s
Andrew Cappetta, composers affiliated with Eastman School of Music, members of
the department of audio engineering, a percussionist, and an artist — crowded in
the MAG’s Creative Workshop to tinker and talk about their work.
The
team — which was led by Oliver Schneller of Eastman Audio Research Studio and
University of Rochester Associate Professor of Art Allen Topolski — created dozens
of instruments from scrap metal donated by local recycling facility Metalico.
Other objects were brought to the table by Topolski, who creates sculptural
work.
“Rainforest
IV” has a deep and fascinating history. The sculptural soundscape was conceived
in 1973 by sound artist and avant-garde pianist David Tudor. He outlined a
basic diagram for recorded and composed sounds to be played through a series of
suspended objects using transducers, which are devices that convert electronic
signals into sounds.
Each
sculptural element has one or more transducer, which “transfers the vibrations
to the surface to which it is attached,” Schneller says. “It’s like a speaker
without the paper membrane.”
The
title of the performance refers not necessarily to a literal environment, but
to the creation of an immersive, sonic density that is akin to being surrounded
by an unpredictable cacophony of nature.
Since
1973, “Rainforest IV” has been reinterpreted and performed more than 150 times
in museums, universities, and art spaces around the world, perhaps most notably
by sound artists collective Composers Inside Electronics, which included
John Driscoll, Phil Edelstein, and Bill Viola, among others.
But
the history goes back even further — Tudor’s first iteration of the
composition, “RainForest,” was created in 1968 to accompany a dance of the same
name by American avant-garde choreographer Merce Cunningham. Various
artists were invited to participate in performances — even Andy Warhol got in
on the game, floating his “Silver Cloud” Mylar balloons above and among the
dancers.
The
version of “Rainforest IV” to be presented at the MAG pays homage to Tudor’s
work by using his original diagram, but freshly interprets it through the
participating composers’ hands and the specific objects they’ve transformed
into instruments.
“The
score is just a diagram — it’s a wiring diagram,” Schneller says. “It shows
that sound is being sent to an object, and then that object responds according
to its size and dimensions and material. And then you re-record that sound and
feed it to speakers that are in the hall.
“So
you’re not only hearing the live response of the speakers that comes through
the transducers, but you’re also hearing a mixed version of all of the
instruments together through regular loudspeakers that are placed throughout
the hall.”
The
participants aim to replicate the score, but through their own individual
interpretations.
“Each
performer has composed their own repertoire of sounds that gets broadcast to
the objects and they actually get turned to life sonically with these sonic
materials,” Schneller says. “It’s a very open project, but there are certain
constraints that we have to observe.”
Schneller
invited Topolski to collaborate because he wanted to include a visual artist
who had a strong understanding of aesthetics and spatial relationships.
“I
also have a toolbox,” Topolski cut in, jokingly. “The objects have to work in a
way that I’m not used to caring about. Their physical attributes play into
their resonance. There were things that we picked up that were surprisingly
resonant, and some didn’t work. I kind of like that the margins have been
continually narrowed down to what we have.
“It’s
a good experience for me because it’s a relinquishing of control, which I’m not
good at,” he says with a laugh. “So this has been really fun. I look for
situations that are outside of my own comfort zone.”
Schneller’s
chosen instruments include a crushed pot and several clusters of steel ribbons,
each with a transducer inside the bunched strands of metal.
“It
was pretty challenging for everybody because nobody has ever dealt with such a
thing,” he says. “We’re taking these materials from the scrap yard, we’re
cleaning them up, bringing them into the museum for a three-day performance. So
they briefly come into existence, have a moment of glamor, and then they go
back to the scrap yard.”
Other
objects chosen by the participants include a metal ring surrounded by a spring,
a clothes dryer, old fashioned salon hair dryers, and the brake drum from a car
— which emits a sound like a hissing, metallic version of running your finger
along the rim of a crystal goblet.
“We
are going about this with a sense of discovery, and taking notes,” Schneller
says. One of the points of stumble-upon excitement was making an instrument
from a door — the kind that has a glass window set into its upper half.
“You
wouldn’t believe how differently a door vibrates,” Schneller says. “There’s
basically three different materials: the glass, wood, and brass frame.”
During the opening night, dancers led by Missy Pfohl Smith will
improvise a live performance by interacting with the sculptural work, and the
musicians will sonically respond, creating what Schneller calls a collective
improvisation.
“The
way this work and Tudor’s extensive work with John Cage sits in the timeline of
dance history is quite compelling to me,” Pfohl Smith says. “This work will
grow out of responses in the moment to the space, objects, and sounds in
combination with some planned material inspired by Tudor’s score and ideas.”
The resulting piece will be recorded and played back through
the objects over the course of the weekend. Visitors to the space are invited
to walk around the objects and approach them to listen closely, but are asked
not to touch the work.
This article appears in Sep 6-12, 2017.
