Archive: Issue No. 84, August 2004

Hearing is undoubtedly the most ephemeral sense. Sound input is the most likely to be refashioned in memory, partially recalled or outright forgotten. Perhaps this is because it has no discernible impact on the boundaries of the body unless the transmission and reception conditions can be controlled by means of wavelengths, acoustic conductivity or a captive audience.

The relationship between sound and space in works of art that depend on sound, therefore, is more than usually important, since sound art is often understood by listeners in terms of other contexts - how it made one apprehend a space, or a visual input, even a scent.

The installation work of South African artist Frances Goodman, who is currently based in Europe, has focused centrally on precisely that relationship between sound and other sensory contexts in previous works such as Portrait and Voice of Reason. But her privileging of sound as a medium occurs in a specific use of language, of the sound and meaning of words, to expose the real meaning of the banal and mundane soundscapes we inhabit every day.

She has said of her own work: 'After working with a number of media I eventually found that words and language had the uncanny ability to unnerve and get under people's skins in a way that visual images and modes could not. Words function in a similar way to my (aesthetic) concerns: on the surface they seem simple and clear, and yet they are often full of innuendoes and subtexts. They seem to have a dark underbelly. This is because they do not hold a sacred position in society, which often seems the case with many art forms. They are the raw matter of life, the buildings-blocks of relationships and social interactions'.

The elements of language, found sound and built space were all present in her work on show at the Gallery in the Round on this year's Grahamstown Festival. The installation David, was originally staged in 2002, and makes its reappearance here in a significantly different space. When first produced, the piece was described as 'an audio-based portrait installed in a space made to resemble a (school) gym hall', complete with large, black surround sound speakers positioned around the room.

For the Grahamstown show, she has cut down the space of the Monument's curious Gallery in the Round to a small, intimate installation space, retained the sprung wooden flooring and wall mirrors, but has replaced the harsh strip lighting with toned down spots reflecting off a central mirror ball, and the speakers with headphones suspended from the ceiling.

Within the physical context, the content focus of the piece is an audio installation. This alternates between a wistful monologue delivered by a spare, precise female voice about her impressions of visiting the fantasy subject of the piece, 'David', and snatches of ambient environmental noise and background voices which erupt into blasts of eurotrashy pop tune.

The monologue is elegantly crafted, a highly personalised reflection on the emotions of investing in fantasy objects and dealing with unattainability, and on the reality underpinning these investments - solitude, fear and disassociation.

On reflection, the staging of the gallery space as a kind of truncated 70s roller disco or aerobics venue fits perfectly with the kind of nostalgic alienation heavily present in the sound-work. The reasoned mundanity of the monologue's reflections on the relationship with David, her 'unattainable Adonis', eventually become unsettling, a discomfort compounded by the odd dislocation of the physical space, its improbability.

This is precisely the relay between sound and space the artist hopes to open up, and which she seems to want to experiment with in changing the physical context of the piece from the perhaps too easily dissociative brightly-lit gym hall.

If this is then a work in progress, which can alter its physical staging quite dramatically with each show, the more intimate and warm space of the installation in its roller disco mode makes the monologue that much more memorable, its slightly distant yet poignant tone more affecting, more personal. And ultimately, the space of the installation manages the difficult task of privileging and making memorable the sound-work itself.

This exhibition was presented by the Goodman Gallery