On Saturday 4th July, London Fields Lido played host not to those soppy 90s balladeers, or to a stars and stripes Americana fest, for that matter, but to Wet Sounds , the UK’s only Underwater Sound Art Gallery. This (moist) Magical Mystery Tour premiered on the swimming pool scene last year and met with such critical and popular approbation that it’s been reprised for 2009.
The brainchild of Hackney-based artist Joel Cahen, Wet Sounds is a genre-defying aural tapestry, of the sub-aqua variety. Neither gig nor exhibition, and not exactly performance art, either, given that the artist/ curator modestly takes a back seat behind the decks, like some mild-mannered DJ. There isn’t a great deal to see, at least not above water; with waterproof speakers weighted down on the pool floor. This event is the epitome of the iceberg effect. What Cahen promises, however, is ‘a deep listening experience.’ Those expecting a Club Aqua-esque pool party were going to be disappointed.
Riotous 18-30s territory this was not, then, but it pulled in the crowds none the less. The most fitting label I heard bandied about by knowing bright young things, beach towels spilling out of their eco shopping bags, was ‘soundscape.’ Once the preserve of art students and sound engineers, this coinage has all but entered the vernacular. Here was soundscape in the truest sense of the word, in fact- pictures painted with sound. Or rather ‘collages,’ as the website suggests, which gets closer to the cut and paste, pick n’ mix layering of sound, laced with inter-textual reference.
Having advertised for submissions via the Internet, Cahen has amassed the work of 10 sound artists of various persuasions and nationalities- including Eric DeLuca (American, composer, improviser), Sam Salem (UK audiovisual artist) and Mark Vernon (UK sound artist, musician and radio producer). All of the practitioners were new discoveries for him, with the exception of Canadian Hildegard Westerkamp, who has been something of a pioneer in the medium since the early 70s. The only criteria he prescribed was the theme of Audio Cinema, collecting a scrap book of ‘narratives in sound composition.’ Cahen is no stranger to playing with the conventions of storytelling and atmospherics, claiming the ‘mash-up’ technique as the cornerstone of his various projects in theatre, dance and film composition. It is also the concept behind his Resonance FM show, Soundsoup.
The event is free, bar the standard pool admission fee, supported as it is by Hackney Council, the Arts Council and PRS, among others, as part of Create 09. Petra Roberts of the Hackney Council Cultural Development Team was in attendance and spoke of the attraction of ‘supporting a young artist based in the borough’ together with the need to ‘bring the arts to new audiences who wouldn’t otherwise encounter this sort of work.’ Refreshingly, the creative force in the collaboration shares this outreach ethos. Cahen seems to have made it his mission to bring sound art to the people- ‘so you don’t have to go and look for it, you don’t have to be part of the scene to experience it.’
Removed from the ‘niche gallery setting,’ and transplanted to an underwater playground, listeners are also liberated from the tyranny of headphones- ‘which I hate,’ declares Cahen. When asked what the element of water brings, both symbolically and practically, he enthuses about an ‘immersive experience,’ akin to a ‘floatation tank- this way it is far more leisurely, more fun and you have more control; the only limitation is your own body.’
He admits that this notion might have been realised more fully, had the water been warmer and therefore people more disposed to float. As it was, with the sunshine fitful and the breeze ever-present above the ‘heated’ open-air pool, I found it was a compulsion to keep moving. Besides generating body heat, this was also necessitated by the volume of people jostling in the water- hardened swimmers literally rubbing shoulders with the pleasure seekers and the culture vultures. In my multi-tasking attempt to exercise body and imagination, I struggled to find the continuity of the ‘sound FX stories;’ my will to listen being constantly broken by the need to come up for air! Relishing the intimate experience of being insulated by an evolving soundtrack whilst enveloped by water, I was at turns hypnotised and delighted, disconcerted and amused by a programme that spanned the urban hubbub of Vancouver, moody jazz overtures and Monty Python’s Flying Circus.
‘It’s treble heavy because bass gets lost in the water,’ I overheard some knowledgeable party elucidate. Water is no impediment to a finely tuned musical ear, it seems. Doubtless living out some mermaid fantasy, I found myself wishing for a snorkel (a breach of health and safety, apparently), to prolong the exposure, or better still- breathing apparatus. In spite of these frustrations, the challenge of piecing together snatches and snippets of sound had its appeal- not least the entertaining sight of grown men and women bobbing about holding their noses, as if playing some arcane, childish game. Smiles were infectious and conversation flowed more freely than usual, momentarily transforming the inner-city Lido into the sociable Roman Bath experience, albeit with added chill. ‘I think it’s a brilliant idea- odd, but brilliant’ ventured Jez, a regular swimmer, ‘they should do it more often.’ Brian from Dalston had come especially to hear Wet Sounds, admitting ‘I think it’s a shame there are a lot of people who clearly aren’t here to listen.’
Tastes and logistics aside, Joel Cahen is emphatic in his belief that ‘you don’t have to like it, but I want to develop people’s aesthetic sense of hearing, outside of the mainstream music charts.’ With the notable exception of classical music, are we conditioned to associate critical discernment in the art world with the purely visual medium, I wonder? This is no accident given the preponderance of the ocular over the aural, particularly in public art. But Cahen resists taking the work too seriously: ‘sound art can be very heavy. I wanted to put some of the humour back in.’ Hence the Pythons. But making it accessible and playful doesn’t necessarily mean making it comfortable: ‘It is a challenge to deal with the contrast between the sunshine, the kids playing, and beneath the surface, the depths of the artist’s mind.’ This sets the tone for the darker, more intense flavour of the winter tour of Scandinavia, he suggests- ‘All the spaces will be indoors, so I might turn the lights off. There’ll be less distractions that way.’
In the meantime, the Wet Sounds collaborators will be pushing the boundaries still further for the UK leg’s closing event at Clissold Leisure Centre in Stoke Newington on 22nd July. Live pool-side performance will provide the counterpoint to the submersed ‘sonic fictions,’ creating parallel, abstract sound scenarios for the audience to piece together. Surreal! Just don’t mention synchronised swimming.
Tags:
London Fields Lido, Music, Performance, Wet Sounds
[...] reviewed the Wet Sounds 2009 installation at the London Fields Lido for Amelia’s [...]