Wind chimes

Apparently there are wind chimes on the southeast corner of 109th Street and Jasper Avenue. Who knew? Not me--at least not until they were mentioned in our seminar--and not many of the friends I've talked to (or, as with some of them, they know of the chimes' existence but had never thought to actively take note of them). The chimes, a public art installation designed by ID8 Design Group, won an award from SEE Magazine--for "Most Perplexing Public Art" in 2004.

Appropriately enough, the magazine with the visual moniker focuses largely on vision in its evaluation of the chimes. The writer sarcastically suggests alternate projects that seem to have a visual focus: staircases, a balcony, disco balls--things that would improve or provide a different view of the landscape, making up for the visual shortfalls of the "ugly downtown corner." In the process, the review misses the point; although the wind chimes are clearly designed with a certain aesthetic outcome in mind, they are wind chimes. I agree that this particular intersection isn't much to look at, but it seems like prettying up the visual environment would be secondary to their acoustic mandate. If ID8's explanation of the project is any indication, this would seem to be the case. The chimes, ID8 claims, are meant to take one aspect of place-based identity--the distinctive prairie wind--and harness it to create a new kind of identifying marker, a "gateway" whose "soaring landmark ... speaks the language of the wind."

However, I wonder if the chimes themselves miss the acoustic point, at least in that spatial context. I visited the site three times this week, and at none of these times could I discern a contribution from the chimes in the soundscape of that street corner. Granted, it wasn't unusually windy at the times I visited; maybe I'll have to keep going back. But it seems like the very fact of its location at a busy intersection, where its visibility is at its highest, will ensure that its audibility is at its lowest. The more vehicles rushing by, the more growling motors will cover any potential sounds the metal pipes have to offer. One also wonders how much relevance an installation whose inspiration is "wind as one of the defining elements of the prairies" has in a busy urban intersection surrounded by tall buildings that affect wind patterns. While the idea is a nice one, it's perhaps a bit nostalgic ... In the end, I agree with SEE: this is a somewhat perplexing project. My reasons for coming to this conclusion, however, are very different.

So, a question to consider ... how could a sound installation capitalize on the "soundmark" (Murray Schafer's term) of that specific urban environment? What would the public reception be like for an installation that used the sounds of traffic? Would it be understood as glorifying undesirable city noises, versus the implicitly superior noises of nature?