The Shape of Consolation
July 2018
 
Installation
@ Oil Tank Culture Park
 
 

 
The Shape of Consolation is an interactive media art exhibition that becomes complete by the sounds and voices of the visitors. Inside the exhibition space, which used to be the oil tank, makes even the stomping sounds of the visitors scatter and resonate in a deep and hollow sound. A unique space, which resembles an enormous cast iron bell, at once shuts off the outside noise, and amplifies the particular sounds inside in a strangely mashed-up manner. The sounds enunciated in verbal language create particularly unrecognizable echoes. In a space where even the name of a person called out from across the hall cannot be properly heard, what makes an articulate sound is the nonverbal sounds that come from the objects installed in the exhibition space.
 
Visitors sit or stand at the center of the darkened exhibition hall looking at the objects creating sounds and marching in circle—the shapes of sirens that make respective noises under the dim light. However, they are not overtly enticing. Although they do not seem to have a coherent rule or agreement, they are connected to one another within the space. The sound of wind blowing; that of machines operating at the construction site; that of crickets chirping; that of bicycle wheels and chains moving as the rider is pedaling the bike; that of a flock of sheep passing with the bells tied around their necks; that of a motorbike passing by and humming sounds of the oldest English round, “Sumer is icumen in” (Summer has come in). All these sounds get gradually louder and expand to create a complex and distinctive rhythm. It is not the siren song that pulls all the sounds into one point, but the sounds made by innumerable sirens as each becomes the siren, and a rhythm is created by their interactions. The time and space in which these actions take place are drawn in from somewhere.
 
How do we treat the beings that create sounds as they walk, trundle, or stand nearby? The Shape of Consolation seems to tell a story of different relations and dimensions of each being. The sound objects remind the visitors of a certain time and space, but it is something that never existed anywhere. To be reminded of a time that never existed. Something that I can clearly feel, but one that scatters or recedes as I try to explain it to someone else. The sensation that is felt on my skin, but disappears. Due to this strange reminder, we, at least, encounter in another dimension—with the sense that is not grounded on the land of language; one that clearly exists, but cannot be grasped in the void. In this universe, where each one’s daydream creates a rhythm, the flickering light of the microphone-shaped lighting, the spiral-shaped neon light and the drum that gets played automatically in an intermittent manner encounter without any apparent logic or plausibility. In addition to this, the visitors make sounds using the installed smartphone, which appears to be too clear and realistic. We cannot predict which one of the marching objects will convey the sound of the visitors. However, their sounds join in the rhythm like an irregular pulse coming from somewhere in the dark. This transforms the entire rhythm into something else.
 
This rhythm and universe created in The Shape of Consolation reminded me of Deleuze and Guattari’s explanation of the “ritornello” (or refrain):
 
“A child in the dark, gripped with fear, comforts himself by singing under his breath. He walks and halts to his song. Lost, he takes shelter, or orients himself with his little song as best he can.”
 
However, when it rains outside the old-oil-storage-tank-turned exhibition hall, the sounds inside are deafened and cannot be heard at all. This march only relies on the vulnerable and uncertain rhythms. Nevertheless, so long as it is a fragile connection that can be broken any time, it becomes a faint, yet distinct shape to the visitors that can only be sung by them.
 
yousun (1/n of blblbg)
 
translated by Soonyoung Choi