Robert Curgenven

The sharp staccato of a cicada, stuck in a tropical stairwell, throwing its body against a fluorescent light – it keeps trying to force a solution despite it clearly not working. The submerged melodies of an 84 year old acetate echo the reflection in the play-of-light which inspired its name. A Benedictine monastery’s pipe organ in Ireland’s west sounds with and against those of a Cathedral organ pipes’ contrasting intonation at St Fin Barre’s in Ireland’s south. Voices laugh in backstreets discretely lined by Pachinko machines, the quiet clatter of small vehicles, aged bicycles – these relative, but disturbed, stillnesses recorded between the brief bursts of broken cables. Striated tones flicker and pierce these seemingly languid scenes, underscored by the rattle of walls, by bass re-recorded in an empty art gallery via Funktion One subs – together these disparate sounds create a physical presence, like an entity, something that can be felt moving on its own in the room.