This solo exhibition opened at Tel Aviv’s Givon Gallery in May of this year. It features three new bodies of work that perform together as a site-specific sound installation. While each body of work produces its own soundtrack, they join together to create an orchestrated 50-min sound composition that is played in a loop.

 

On the bright ground floor of the gallery, three silver-coated bronze transistors play a multi-channel sound piece. The soundtrack consists of nature sounds which culminate in a short segment based on the disruption of Harry Belafonte's Banana Boat Song. 

A kind of deaf discourse is created between the transistors searching for each other in space until they join together in the cry that they "want to go home." The original song is built in the form of call and response and is known as a Jamaican slave song that was sung during long days of hard labor.

The transistors’ structure is based on a Faraday cage: a metal enclosure used to block electric and electromagnetic fields. In that way, a tool originally produced as a frequency receptor turns into an isolated cage. 

Each transistor weighs 5 kg. The weight of the material stands in contrast to the natural function of the transistor as a lightweight object meant to be carried around easily. The silver pigment is created by an electrical process (electroplating) that “tattoos” a silver coat on the bronze surface. The “rich” look of the material, which will change over time, appears to give the object an added value.

The antennas of the transistors perforate the ceiling of the first floor and burst into the second floor of the gallery, physically emphasizing the attempt to absorb information and undermining the architecture of the display space.

 

The darkened top floor is controlled by The Oracle, a prophet with a computerized voice that produces random sentences via LED signs. Each sign has a signature color and each is located in a different area of ​​the space. Only one vantage point in the gallery reveals the Oracle’s message in its entirety. The sound of the Oracle emanates from speakers mounted on the ceiling.

Another meditative soundtrack is emanating from three wall-mounted silver works. The works seem to emerge from the darkness of the room. This soundtrack is connected to a computer that plays a random sound creation in 5 different scenes. The sound accompanies the Oracle and produces segments that at times sound melodious. The composition changes frequently, transitioning, for example, from piano to a synthetic ambient sound, to undefined background noise. The work functions as a kind of shattering glacier, which is built and destroyed simultaneously.