O-1 Visas
Sound is not one of the great mysteries of life. We see an instrument, a musician approaches, plays it one way or another, and noise emerges. This occurs with instruments conventional and not—could be fingers on a piano, could be wind against a loose shutter. And yet, under Mue Wu, from sound arises not understanding but fundamental questions: who, what, where, when, how and why are those sounds? Recent works bear this out. "Noise for the Passage" installed microphones in multiple locations throughout the SAIC Galleries; some picked up environmental tones, others had text panels inviting visitors to speak or sing according to a provided score. Broadcasting occurred live via speakers placed elsewhere, for an enigmatic and disconnected effect. "Truncated Cones," at the artist-run space Forma Otwarta, suspended three steel buckets from the ceiling, upside down and at various heights, wired to murmur from within. The lowest acted like a private sound system into which a viewer could place their head; the others were too high. What could be heard? A woman’s voice, whispering familiar nonsense, more or less intelligible depending on one’s position. Or maybe it was legible? I couldn’t tell, I was too far away.
—Lori Waxman 10/16/26 3:35 PM