Joe Song

The first impression of Ray Lee’s Siren at the Walker was: kind of a simple installation. I mean, not simple but regular; some electronics, some lights, some white (black) space. But, it gets good. Really good.

The setup is a group of about fifteen towers; plain welded tripods with a cross beam on top. They are not particularly polished and the wires show. A variable motor connects the beam to the tripod so the beam can spin. At each end of the beam is a variable speaker that throws out a sine wave sound. The performers can control the frequency of the wave. Each speaker has a red LED on its top. An imaginable contraption.

There are, like I said, fifteen or so of these; some with bigger speakers for lower frequencies dome with smaller. The performers turn them on one-by-one tuning each speaker individually as they go. Soon, the beams start spinning giving each tower its own beat as the arms swing around to face you.

At a distance, the whole thing sounds a giant, dissonant chord, most near to an arm laid across a Rhodes. Moving nearer to a specific tower, the Doppler and the rhythm start to focus its sound. This one is a tuba oompah, that one is a trumpet pattern. Behind it all is a field of 60-cycle-hum violins and violas. It is a siren, but a beautiful siren.

The lights go out and the room is filled with red LED fireflies circling each other somehow there are fewer people in the room and moving around the stage is easier. Gears and incalculable harmony.

Slowly, the towers get tired and slow down their spin, eventually closing their LED eyes and drifting off to sleep. As the last tower stops the silence is forceful and thick.