Shhh...
"A Long Way to go on the Sound Track"
By Richard Wolfson, Daily Telegraph, May 20, 2004
Since
2000 the V&A has hosted a series of successful music nights,
inviting leftfield performers into the hallowed gallery spaces.
Now they've asked 10 musicians and artists, from ex-Talking Heads
frontman David Byrne to Turner
Prize winner Gillian Wearing, to provide an "audio response" to spaces in the museum. The punter must don headphones and locate
the oblong electronic gadgets that trigger the sounds when one walks
past.
Cornelius,
the Japanese rock musician, provides an appropriately glassy soundtrack
to the glass collection; chiming electric piano tones interlock
as one strolls around the sometimes kitsch exhibits, and the sudden
sound of smashing glass is a witty turn. Also amusing, David Byrne
has placed his interventions in the less glamorous areas of the
museum. A symphony of splashes and rhythmic cistern flushes accompanies
a visit to one of the listed latrines, while amid the usual museum
background noise a panting voice starts to whisper in your ear.
In
more exalted mood, Liz Fraser, the ex-Cocteau Twins chanteuse, sings
a wordless hymn to the Raphael Cartoons, while Simon Fisher Turner
transforms a ceramics room into an atmospheric Mediterranean square.
Some
of the artists seem intent on providing an anti-soundtrack that
disrupts one's experience of the art works and spaces. Jeremy Deller
accompanies a young girl around the Chinese collection, and we hear
her comments - she knows how to say goodbye in six languages. Jane
and Louise Wilson populate the dramatic Cast Court with the sounds
of children climbing a structure, while Gillian Wearing gives the
Bromley-by-Bow room a lengthy interview with a museum employee who
is obsessed with the past (and this room).
In
an attempt to provide more sympathetic soundtracks, musicians Faultline
and Leila present elegant techno workouts; they are fine in themselves,
but the experience is no different from wandering around a gallery
listening to the latest techno tracks on a personal stereo. Coming
from behind, and a surprise contender for stealing the show, is
hip hop artist Roots Manuva: the elaborate gilt and multiple mirrors
of the Norfolk House Music Room become the setting for a Hammer
Horror vampire flick, as the singer invokes Armageddon with a terrifying
apocalyptic rant.
This
is the V&A's first "sound exhibition"; though occasionally
diverting, one can't help feeling there's a long way to go before
Britain really does justice to the technical innovation and aesthetic
weight out there in the international world of sound art.
�
Copyright of Telegraph
Group Limited 2004.
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