Wednesday 3/22 I visited the Armory Center for the Arts in Pasadena, California. I went at midday and spend my time there in an exhibit entitled Between Words and Silence: The Work of Translation. The work itself was a collection of work by eleven artists examining “the inherent impossibility of understanding “the other,” the necessity of our efforts to try, an acceptance of these limitations, and the possibilities that emerge”. (Between Words and Silence – text).
Technology was used throughout the exhibit in the form of video monitors and auditory overlays throughout the gallery. There was also a single record phonograph player mounted on a wall shelf next to drawings of a whistling mouth. The video pieces were placed in interesting ways, and the pathways of the exhibit reflected different narratives based on a central theme depending on which way you chose to go. There was only a single other visitor during my time there and I watched him for a while. He seemed to bypass the wall text almost entirely in favor of the video monitors when there was a video component to the work. When the work was stationary he gave more time to the labels and text. There was a separate small room at the rear of the exhibit which was around 5 by 15 feet. There was a monitor at the end of the room with a video display and overlaid audio that reflected the words of some sort of composition or poem. The work was beautiful but the room was intimidating. The other visitor didn’t go in, but I did and I sat down for a while to enjoy the work. The effect was one of being isolated from the rest of the gallery even though I was only a few feet from the main desk. The monitor was set flush with the walls of the room and gave the effect of being centered on a vanishing point.
As I was walking out, I kept wondering what the purpose of the wall-mounted record player was in the exhibit, and I asked the guest service associate if there was a meaning I should derive from its placement. I was surprised when she said that there were a number of whistles recorded on the album that were meant to accompany the four drawings of whistlers just next to the device. The whistles on the recording are digitally created without a human whistler. It is played on request of museum patrons only, but there is no way to know unless you ask. I asked, and she started the album up. It was a looping track of a huge number of digital whistles. I concluded the visit by heading out and deciding to come back and listen to the rest of the album when I had time. I thought it was interesting that the whistling artwork in particular required interaction from guest without prompting in order to experience it fully. I don’t know if anyone else requested to hear the album that day, but of the two people there, I was the only one to ask.
