Bob Snyder's Orniphonia 2 (Florasonic exhibition series)

            I had a very delightful time seeing the Florasonic exhibit at the Lincoln Park Conservatory (which featured the piece titled Orniphonia 2, by Bob Snyder). The sound installation featured a four-channel surround sound system in the fern room, which played sounds that were “created through electronic means using analog synthesis” (brochure). The fluttering and beating sounds replicated the chirps of exotic birds that would at times play independently or even sometimes interact with each other. As the speakers were set in the corners of the room (above everything and pointed down and toward the center of the room), it felt as if the sounds were being directed toward the viewers, creating an environment that envelopes the viewers. This is different that Shawn Decker’s Prairie because Prairie’s delicate robotic plants could not quite completely surround the audience, and is instead experienced somewhat more like a museum exhibit, making one feel a bit more disconnected from the work (sure, as mentioned in my blog post about Decker’s work, he tried remedying that by making a pathway in the middle, but even then, I felt like Snyder’s work does a much better job of immersing the listeners).

 

            The live plants in the exhibit certainly made the experience feel more authentic, as there were dozens, if not hundreds, of different ferns, which made the room lush and teeming with life. This is different when compared to Prairie, as the mechanical plants were made to act real, yet they were explicitly revealed to be robotic (and of “one species”). The “realness” makes me feel like I 

have been transported to another place. And it wasn’t just the plants that made the experience feel real, but I thought the humidity and high temperature (despite the approximately 40-degree weather outside!), running water, and earthy smell all helped as well. In fact, there were also little hidden dinosaurs in the fern room, and even though they’re now extinct, I think the fact that they’re there goes to show that the fern room is meant to evoke “otherworldliness,” or if not that, it’s suppose to whisk one off into another time—a “land before time,” so to say (haha, I’m just kidding).

            I believe that all these elements—the visuals, sounds, smells, and feel (humidity/temperature)—were used as a setting; when coupled with the sound component (the installation), the two worked together to create another time and place, something exotic, so to say. Even though we are technically in the city, the conservatory setting helps to shut out the outside world and set a stage on the inside. However, the setting could also be used to make a statement, as seen in Prairie: the fact that it’s in the Chicago Cultural Center with the big windows opening up to the sky scrapers and city life, coupled with the grid-like structure of the installation work together to make one think about the juxtaposition between nature and industrialization.

            Despite how real the environment seems in Orniphonia 2 there are elements of the conservatory that made me realize that I was still confined in a building. For instance, there is a paved road in the middle of the room (maybe they could have covered it with dirt), and there are small metallic signs that pointed out all the different types of ferns. Though the glass ceiling is meant to keep in all the heat as well as provide the much needed sunshine for the plants, it certainly feels much more confined than an authentically open-aired jungle of sorts. There is also a hose running through the room, as well as other tools of maintenance—and sure, they’re necessary because of the nature of the plant conservatory. Also, I am not quite an expert at technology, but I was wondering if the humidity of the room would corrode or damage the delicate mechanisms inside the speakers (especially if most electronics are meant to be used in drier environments; in typical cases, moisture + electronics = bad things happen).

            Even though both works had a constant flow of people due to the functions of the buildings, both works were effective because there was no clear beginning or end; one could easily come in and feel that they have not missed anything. Moreover, the sounds produced are more of the ambient variety in the sense that they don’t attract a whole lot of attention (for instance, there aren’t any gaping holes or startling sounds that mark the beginnings or ends of larger formal structures). There may also be a culture implication that works in the fern room: when I heard the exotic bird sounds, I immediately thought of exploration and adventure in an Amazonian jungle, and so the fact that there was other life (i.e. people wandering around) didn’t seem to bother me as much.

            When thinking of the two works we can definitely see that there are various pros and cons linked with picking a space for a sound installation. First of all, one is able to use the space to one’s advantage, as it could help authenticate the viewer’s experience or help emphasize extra-musical messages to the viewers. At the same time, the fact that every venue is different also means that you, as the artist, must work within the limits of the performance spaces; if you have to create a work specifically for a space (say, if you were commissioned by the Lincoln Park Conservatory) and you have no source of inspiration, then I feel like the piece will fall into the trap of becoming ineffective.

            All in all, this was a very cool exhibit—it certainly took me to another time and place amidst the busyness of life, which I enjoyed very much!