1

Sound Paintings at Links Hall

by Heather Liberman

Perhaps taking the time to sit back, relax and enjoy the show has diminished during the economic downturn.  Money is tight and people are stressed.  In our current climate any personal indulgence seems like too much, too greedy, and frankly riddled with too much guilt.  Taking an hour and a half to sit and explore one’s own personal thought process occurs far too infrequently despite the exorbitant benefits that can accompany such a quest.

On Monday, February 4th, Links Hall hosted a one-night event for Chad Willetts in his effort to ask the attendees to not rely on vision or scent, rather sound.  Upon entering the dimly light space, each participant was handed a black silken blindfold.  The sole additional décor was the word “Sound,” handmade by tubing and contoured into a cursive light fixture. While this sculptural piece was never referenced during the sound experience, its faint glow provided a sense of safety and warmth in the space.

Chad Willetts, with experience scoring an ambient soundtrack for the Bodyworlds 2 exhibit, explained to the audience that sound paintings are a voyage that each participant must take alone to process mental portraits and travel to the “image nation” of the brain. Prior to playing the first of ten sound paintings, Willetts suggested that each participant begin with the image of a blank, white canvas.  Next, he asked that the participants use their minds to paint the recorded dialogue using a palette parallel to that of a painter.  Applying the blindfolds as 3-D glasses, each image would then morph in shape, color, and design, depending on the notes and instruments Willetts played through the two speakers in the room.

Each sound painting lasted roughly three minutes and had a distinct title.  Participants removed their blindfold after each cerebral exercise and engaged in a group dialogue articulating what each person saw, experienced, envisioned, and felt.  When asked the inspiration for each piece, Willetts was incredibly forthcoming.  His impetus was evident through his choice of instruments, effects, timing, and volume for each piece.

The sense of sound was initially heightened in an eerie and uncomfortable way when the blindfold was first applied.  The opening piece, “Jungle Dreams” may have been intended to be playful, but the sound of a hysterical laughing monkey evoked desperation and the color of deep maroon paint applied with bare hands grabbing repeatedly at a canvas.  Eventually, a knife stabbed the canvas ripping the fabric.  Simultaneously, the man behind me laughed, because we were all watching our own series of events.  Ultimately, this was a study of both our own minds at work, as well as the recognition of personal perception.

As the sounds and thoughts evoked a variety of images and feelings, one of the fascinating components of this exercise was to hear the various reactions the audience had.  Ranging from adults to children, the audience actively participated in telling their stories.  After “Every 30 Seconds,” a piece inspired by the brutal reality that every thirty seconds a human being is murdered, audience members suggested this piece was about domestic life, or church.  Yet, the sound was a layering of clocks – a stop watch, a cuckoo clock, incessantly ticking followed by repeated gun shots – machine guns, assault rifles, pistols.

“The “Wonder Dears” incorporated the sounds of fireworks, whimsical chimes, and the sound of belching and whoopee cushions followed by children laughing.  This series of events occurred on loop for the duration of the piece.  Again, people laughed during the piece.  Later, one audience-member articulated that he saw gnomes, and another felt the essence of why people love children.  Yet, I couldn’t help but be haunted by the image of malicious adults utilizing cheap tricks to take advantage of the vulnerable.  While typically the more socially acceptable associations were the ones described aloud, it would be interesting to have people write an anonymous account of their experience.

Not only a meditation and learning experience, the sound paintings were pleasing to the ear and thoughtfully combined to allow people to travel to memories, fears, desires, and pure emotions.  Willetts suggested that his original plan was to set the sound paintings in port-o-potties to allow people the intimacy of a solitary vestibule.  Perhaps people can simulate this experience at home, in a free and informative way, investigating where their mind travels and asking themselves why.

Hear an example of the sound paintings below:

Share

Comments (1)

Trackback URL | Comments RSS Feed

  1. Gordon Sinclair says:

    The requirement of closed eyes ‘painting,’for me, interferes with just being with Mr. Willetts creative music process. His musical structure and balance is remarkable and very pleasant and satisfying. It is lush without being coy or over-reaching.

    We need more of his work.

Leave a Reply