Arts

Scientific sound art at GV Art

Kamil McClelland talks to Mendel Kaelen, an Imperial PhD student whose artwork is on display in the GV Art Gallery in London

What: NOISE & Whispers Where: GV Art Gallery, W1 When: 8th Nov - 14th Dec 2013 Price: FREE

Mendel Kaelen received his BSc and MSc in neurological and behavioural sciences at the State University of Gronigen, and is now doing a PhD at Imperial College. He also works as a sound artist and experimental musician and is currently exhibiting at the GV Art Gallery’s NOISE & Whispers exhibition.

So Mendel, what are you researching at the moment in your PhD?

We are looking at the neurological effects of psychedelic drugs. We do so at ‘resting state’, meaning that people in the scanner are allowed to lie there with their eyes closed, letting their minds wander freely. In 2001, researchers found that certain brain regions are actually more active at rest. My supervisors found that psychedelics seem to very specifically target these resting state networks, and my research builds on this.

Moving on to your art, how would you describe what you do?

Ever since I started experimenting with sounds, I became really fascinated by environmental ones. Field recording plays a very central position in my work – although I also work with objects and instruments. Furthermore I often don’t use these field recordings in their pure form. I am more interested in how the sound feels, rather than what it is. After I modulate my recordings, you often don’t recognize the original sound any more, but you still have this organic quality to it.

Why do you find natural sounds so appealing, as opposed to purely electronic sounds?

I don’t think they’re more interesting. For instance, I have a deep appreciation for the work of artists like Carsten Nicolai, where often there is no natural context at all. I just tend to constrain myself at the moment, to give myself focus. However, I do find it appealing that they represent, both concretely and in a more abstract sense, forces of nature. We are constantly surrounded by mechanistic sounds, so it is easy to become estranged from these natural ones. Maybe I still have a kind of romantic vision of nature at a subconscious level in my practice.

What are you trying to do with your music? Are you trying to capture a landscape, reveal some hidden reality, or just create emotion? Do you think about these things when you create your music?

Absolutely! That question has much to do with how I define art. I see art as a form of communication – a language that is irrational, and that doesn’t bother to be rational. It gives voice to those forces you feel inside that are difficult to quantify. When I create art myself, I see it as giving people a symbol that that bypasses the intellect. It’s about giving people a phenomenologically rich experience.

Do you see your work as academic?

No, not at all; I see it as art, and art is not academic for me. That doesn’t mean it cannot be inspired by scientific concepts, though. Science is about objective truth; it provides explanations of reality no matter what you may feel about this reality, whilst art is about subjective reality and what you experience. Theoretically they are extremely different, but they both have to do with, in a very abstract sense, finding explanations for your experience of life.

What are your main artistic influences?

They are a rich blend of science, literature, music and visual art. I keep being inspired by new musicians; it’s a never-ending process. Works by Francisco Lopez have greatly affected my artistic development. He works with field recordings in very immersive, abstract works. There is one of his albums called La Selva that really opened my ears to new ways of listening.

Talk to me about your piece on display at the GV art gallery.

Altered Space of Consciousness started very intuitively back in Groningen, where I was studying neuroscience. I often found myself driving home in the middle of the night. At night, the city centre turns into this carnage of human instincts; people are very disinhibited. I would always try to avoid it; it had a kind of intrusiveness to it. However, I eventually found it fascinating to listen and overcome my resistance to that soundscape. So then every time I drove back home, I would bring my sound recording equipment with me. Afterwards, I thought about how I could recreate that experience for listeners. I came up with the idea of having a beer can hanging upside down, lonely in a dark space, and playing these sounds really subtly. There was intrusiveness in the original soundscape, and I wanted to invert that by playing the sounds very softly, as an invitation for closer inspection. Planet Earth floats as a peaceful pearl in black space, but a close look reveals the acts of joy and genocide being played out simultaneously. So only with your ears next to the can do you hear the songs that celebrate booze and football and those that glorify rape and prostitution, all performed together. What is psychologically interesting is that as an outsider, you won’t hear the difference. The sounds are locked up, and resonance and overtones are created by it being played inside this enclosed metal space.

Do you feel a visual element to your sound art is quite important then?

Yes, although this is not always the case, as some is best experienced in complete darkness. Then, the visual element is your mind’s eye. It is however often the visual part of a work that triggers your first associations, when it’s presented to you. So I think it is important that the visual art resonates with what you want to communicate with your sound.

In your works are you actively trying to convey the emotion the field recording originally gave you?

I always make something from my own emotions, but the output is always a surprise. You also never have control over what the audience feels. I got rid of that idea very soon after my first release in 2010, when it became clear that everyone had their own unique thoughts about the music. In the beginning, a part of me didn’t like that because I wanted to communicate something very specific. But now I realise that this is something beautiful; you create a piece, but what people do with it is up to them.

What do you see for the future of your art?

Right now I’m focusing more on live performances and installations. Where everything is going, I don’t know. But I do want to keep creating and developing the character of my pieces. My art will always express how I develop as a person.