Alicia McDaid

About this time every year our neighbor calls to gently complain about the noise coming from our pond at night. The frogs, in their throes of passion, disturb his sleep. Curious. The frogs have the opposite effect on me. They lull me to sleep, the perfect white noise machine. Yet, every once in a while, because of some kind of full agreement I don’t understand or out of caution, they’ll stop chirping. And in these quiet moments, if there’s any wind at all, I can hear that same neighbor’s numerous wind chimes.

Before visiting “The International Invitational Triennial of Contemporary Wind Chimes” at Rocksbox Contemporary Fine Art last week, I anticipated I would find myself in some sort of calamitous cacophony (sorry) of sound. Instead, in the absence of a breeze, it was only visually so.

Sixty pieces of art are scattered about the two levels and stairwell of the gallery. Most are hung on a continuous line of parachute cord latticed and woven a foot or so from the ceiling, sometimes lower. This in itself makes it rather hard to navigate some parts of the show; other times difficulty in passage is more a matter of the proximity of one piece of art to another or several pieces blocking one’s way. There is little if any perceptible wind in the space, yet manual manipulation is allowed if one wants to hear any “chiming.” Some pieces I was not inclined to touch at all, such as Gary Robbin’s chime, “Ding Dong,” which consists of a collection of black dildos.

True to the “no holds barred” approach to curation we have come to expect from the gallery’s director, Patrick Rock, the overall tenor of this exhibit is raucous, yet also imaginative and smart. Truly international, there are artists from Canada, Austria, England, France and Iceland, although the majority of artists hail from the West Coast. The chimes are organized into several categories: “Conceptual Assholes” is in a room upstairs; “Witchcraft” fills the hallway upstairs; “Show me the Money” is laid out in the stairwell; wandering the first floor space will take the visitor through “Sausage Party” (where “Ding Dong” is front and center), “Bad Habits,” “No, It’s Cool, You Can Trust me, I Am a Feminist…” and “Dirty Smelly Hippy Types.” Equally distinct is the success some pieces have over others in inventiveness and/or construction.

Continues…