“… Tamara Albaitis’ interactive sound drawings invite the viewer to navigate through an artery of aural jungles. As a lo-fi contrast to O’Brien and Benson, Albaitis appropriates audio cable that crawl up the walls, budding clusters of speakers that saturate the atmosphere with sounds of a more tangible world.” – Kimberly Johansson
The space reminded me of the long skinny, shot-gun houses I saw in Louisville, Kentucky one time. Emphasizing this long, skinny characteristic of the space was a wall, bifurcating the space with 5 walk-through arches carved out of it. I took electro-magnetic recordings from around the building and fashioned the sound to the beat of a heartbeat. When contemplating the piece, I would oscillate through the little archways, weaving back and forth then looping back, like an extended figure-8. I thought of walking meditations… and the way we weave through extremes, back and forth… with the goal of equalibrium in sight. I decided that the “heart” of the space would logically exist in the very middle of the space, so the 3rd archway.
I love all the layers of definitions thresholds have and how they lead from one place to the next – holding in on one side, keeping out on the other. The threshold is the place where separation can no longer hold the wall’s definition of separate… it’s the inevitable feature if any life can live in that space: there must be a way for things to move in and out. So is anything really separate? My instincts plainly say no, but we need these distinctions between this (place) and that (place) – it gives meaning and coherence. It gives the interconnectedness definition. Strange. Beautiful.
I enjoy working with opposites and black and white – so cut-n-dry and obvious then. In this threshold, the white huddles and gathers towards the black, the black collects and clings to the white. They need each other and the heartbeat continues.