It remains unclear whether JonOne intended for that young Seoul couple to “participate” in – perhaps on is the better term – his “Untitled” work, currently displayed at the Street Noise exhibition in Lotte World Mall. If you missed the story, the American artist also known as John Andrew Perello submitted his 2016 work to the South Korean exhibition along with brushes and jars of paint to be placed at the foot of the painting. The additions were meant to be part of the work, as opposed to an invitation to join in the fun. Which is precisely what a 20-something couple did, adding “small swipes of dark green” according to ABC News.
Various media reports place the work’s value at between $440,000 and $500,000. Rest assured that the appropriate insurance authorities have been contacted. Still, the event has turned JonOne – already an established, respected artist – into a Flipboard story. No-one has suggested he planned it this way, but it’s unlikely to end up being a professional setback.
Media relations strategy aside, participatory art sounds vaguely romantic in a locked down world. Last month, Swedish composer, sound artist and violinist Marta Forsberg released a live recording of her 2015 work “LED and Love Sounds.” Presented in April of that year at me Collectors Room Berlin, this striking drone piece features processed violin sounds. She begins on the instrument, and then over the course of the 22-minute work transitions to performing with electronic recordings of the violin.
“[Y]ou can hear the gallery clearly, it moves sometimes in the background,” writes Forsberg in the album’s notes. “Noises of moving bodies. The sound of listening bodies, trying to be still, maybe falling asleep shortly in the middle, and you hear how they drop something on the floor. How nice it is to hear the audience.”
None of this is to suggest that Forsberg wants you to bring a tambourine along to her next gig. But she does want you to feel a sense of immersion in her work. Growing up, she was a member of a youth orchestra. Her spot in the second violin section meant that she was physically inside the music – a thrill she’s been working to replicate ever since.
The album’s title is a Polish word meaning “to weave.” The first piece combines light and sound, as well as violin and electronics. And like many of the most rewarding drone experiences, it never stops moving. The closer you listen, the deeper its effect.
The same can be said of the album’s second piece, suitably entitled “Weave and Dream.” Recorded in March 2015, this one offers a bigger, more rounded sound than its predecessor. There is a roughness around the edges that will appeal to fans of electronic sound art.
Composed on an OP-1 synthesizer, it began as an installation featuring LED light, fabric, sequins and drones. More from Forsberg’s notes: “I would book the big concert hall in my old music college … The music came after the lights, and reflects the pulsation and upwards going movement of the lights. I also remember that I wanted to create a piece that would erase my own presence on stage, so for the premiere I hung black curtains around the stage and moved behind them together with my friend Sylvain Devaux, and from there we turned the LED lights on and off using remote controls.”
Forsberg completed her Bachelor degree in Electroacoustic Music at Sweden’s Royal College of Music in 2016.