April – October 2016

Portfolio
of Possibilities

A six-month residency at Mad Art, Seattle.

Bell-tone laser projection on water, an innertube wired to the bus stop outside, and sculptures driven in real time by Puget Sound tides — built in public over six months.

4 Artists
6 Months
2016 Mad Art · Seattle
Four artists, one room, six months of open studio. Mad Art handed us the gallery in 2016 and let us build the show in public — so visitors arrived during the work, not after it.

Mad Art gave four of us the gallery for six months in 2016: Mark Zirpel, Amie McNeal, Samuel Stubblefield, and me, Joshua Borsman, brought in as special guest. Instead of installing finished work and putting up a wall, we used the room as a working studio. Anyone could walk in while we were mid-build.

The workbenches, the wire, the test rigs — none of it ever got cleared away. Most days someone came in to find a sculpture being shaken into tune, a laser being walked across a water surface, or a board being soldered at the bench in the middle of the room. By the closing show the room held both the work and the evidence of how it got made.

A residency by Mark Zirpel, Amie McNeal, Samuel Stubblefield, and Joshua Borsman

Bell, transducer, pool, laser.

Sound, made visible on water.

A wide green laser waveform projected across a dark backdrop — the visual signature of a bell tone passed through water.
One bell strike, projected on the back wall.

A cast bell hung over an anvil in the middle of the gallery. When you struck it, a microphone picked up the tone and fed it to a transducer mounted under a shallow pool of water. The pool's surface vibrated with the bell's overtones — standing waves you could see.

A green laser, aimed nearly flat across the pool, skimmed the surface and reflected onto a screen at the far wall. The screen drew whatever the bell was doing. Hit it once and you got a single bloom. Hit it harder and the drawing got messier.

The bell, tripod microphone, and anvil rig set up in the gallery before activation. Bell · mic · anvil
A close-up of the water surface with the green laser line skimming across it, ripples textured by the transducer below. Laser line on pool
Soft, swirling green laser-light filling the projection wall — the bloom of a single bell strike. Single strike

Laser projection & signal chain: Samuel Stubblefield.

Activated by the city.

Sidewalk sculpture, triggered by buses pulling up next door.

A coiled black truck-innertube sculpture sitting on the sidewalk outside the gallery, with a Seattle bus stop and a passing car in the background.
Sidewalk test, summer 2016.

A knot of black truck innertubes sat on the sidewalk in front of the gallery, right next to a King County Metro bus stop. Most of the time it just sat there and people walked past it without registering it as art.

There were vibration sensors and small actuators inside. When a bus pulled up, the sensors picked up the rumble and the sculpture started to move — then went still again once the bus left. Riders coming off the bus usually caught it in motion and turned around to look.

Wired and wireless data systems, sensor-to-actuator electronics: Joshua Borsman. Concept and sensing collaboration: Samuel Stubblefield.

Live Puget Sound data, on the room.

Two pieces in this room ran on live tide data.

A tall conical wire-frame sculpture casting a layered shadow on a hung white screen behind it; the spiral's motion was driven by live Pacific Northwest tide data. Wire-spiral · tide-driven
A weather balloon hangs midspan in the gallery, casting a sharp dark shadow on the screen behind it; the balloon inflated and deflated in time with Puget Sound tide data. Weather balloon · breathing with tide
Looking down through the concentric wire bands of a spinning top, with steel ball bearings traveling its tracks. Top · looking down its axis

The wire-spiral turned in response to changes in the tide. The weather balloon, suspended midspan, inflated on the incoming tide and deflated on the outgoing one, working on a several-hour cycle.

Stand in front of either piece for a minute and it looked like a static object. Come back the next afternoon and it was in a different position.

A pendulum in a sealed dark chamber.

A piano string, struck on each swing, wired to a bass pickup.

Mark built this as a small chamber inside the gallery — pitch black, sealed from radio. A pendulum hung inside and swung back and forth, striking a piano string on each pass. The string was wired to a bass pickup, and the signal came back to the listener as a slow, low pulse that sat below speech and breath.

Standing in it felt like being inside a room that had its own heartbeat. It was my favorite piece in the residency.

No photographs were made of the chamber's interior; the piece depended on the room being absolutely dark.

By Mark Zirpel.

Soldering iron, batteries, parts bins, beer.

A lot of what mattered in the show happened at the bench in the middle of the room, not at the finished pieces.

Workbench detail: black actuator housings, sorted electrical connectors, and wire harnesses being assembled for the innertube sculpture's bus-response drive. Drive housings · innertube
A row of finished actuator assemblies on the bench with a 12V battery and red power leads — the drivers that made the innertube sculpture move when the bus arrived. Finished actuators · innertube
Hands wiring a small accelerometer breakout board on the workbench — the sensor for the curved-steel piece. Accelerometer · curved-steel piece
Two artists laughing over a laptop and a small electronics build at the gallery's open workbench.
An artist holding up a small custom circuit board to show his collaborator, the gallery and tools visible behind them.

The four of us building, debugging, swapping parts; visitors standing around the bench while we worked. Most of the conversations about the work happened there.

Opening night.

A wide gallery view: knotted rope sculptures and rusted steel hoops in the foreground, projected wire-shadow drawings on a hung screen at the rear, the bell rig visible mid-room.
The gallery, opening night.

The gallery filled on opening night. The bell was striking once a minute, the wire-spiral was tracking the tide, the weather balloon was breathing in and out, and the sidewalk innertube was responding to every bus that pulled up. The workbench was still in the middle of the room, mid-build.