German photographer Martin Klimas' latest exhibition, a series of images he calls "Sonic Sculptures," is so explosive and colorful, it just may change the way you look -- yes, look -- at music.
For the project, Klimas put vibrantly colored paint on a diaphragm over a speaker, turned up the volume on selected music and snapped photos of what the New York Times Magazine described as "a 3-D take on Jackson Pollack."
"I use an ordinary speaker with a funnel-shaped protective membrane on top of it," he told the Smithsonian. "I pour paint colors onto the rubber membrane, and then I withdraw from the setup."
The above photo shows Prince's "Sign 'O' The Times."
Klimas' project was inspired by the research of Hans Jenny, a German physician, scientist and father of cymatics, which is the study of wave phenomena. Jenny photographed his experiments of the effects sound vibrations had on various materials such as fluids, powders and liquid paste. Jenny placed these substances on a rubber drum head and, as it vibrated, he found different tones produced different patterns in the materials. Low tones made powders assemble in straight lines, while deeper tones made for more complex patterns.
The above photo reflects Phillip Glass' "Music With Changing Parts."
Klimas used a variety of music -- everyone from Prince to James Brown and Charlie Parker to Phillip Glass. He says he leaves the "creation of the picture to the sound itself" and, after cranking the volume, steps back. Once the paint starts jumping, a sound-trigger device that detects noise spikes automatically takes photos.
"I mostly selected works that were particularly dynamic, and percussive," Klimas said. Though he used songs from a variety of music styles and eras, many of the tracks chosen were by musicians who had ties to the visual art world, such as the Velvet Underground and John Cage.
Before they struck gold with "Get Lucky," Daft Punk got dance floors thumping with "Around the World" shown here.
Klimas spent six months completing the project in his Dusseldorf studio and took about 1,000 shots to get his final 212 images. He went through 18.5 gallons of paint, on average of 6 ounces per shot, and blew two speakers while cranking the tunes. He used a Hasselblad camera with a shutter speed of 1/7000th a second.
The above image is a photo of Ornette Coleman's "Free Jazz, A Collective Improvisation."
Blown speakers and exactitudes aside, Klimas said "the most annoying thing was cleaning up the set thoroughly after every single shot." Check out more of Klimas' work on his website (www.martin-klimas.de), or better yet, if you're in New York City, stop by the Foley Gallery on the Lower East Side. There you can find his new exhibition, "SONIC," which opened earlier this month.
The above photo illustrates Pink Floyd's "On the Run."
Swedish musician Martin Molin from the band Wintergatan made a truly remarkable — and insane — contraption. His fully manual hand-crank machine generates music with 2,000 marbles.
The Marble Machine gives “one-man band” a whole new meaning.
Wintergatan, which means “winter street” in Swedish, released an eponymous album in 2013 and have a distinctive folktronica sound. If you need a soundtrack for a twee stop-motion short film, look no further.
Molin is as much a maker as musician. Fans of his former band, Detektivbyrån (“The Detective Agency”) called him MacGuyver, according to the Creators Project. Inspired by the whole marble machine subculture (yes, there is one), Molin got to work on his own.
The guy meticulously assembled the machine from 3,000 pieces — a lot of it cut from wood. A hand crank activates the conveyor belt, directing marbles through gears and spouts to generate specific notes and sounds. Inside are an assortment of instruments including a vibraphone, strings, kick drum, and bass. Outer levers control them.
Fellow musician Marcus Dimbodius assisted with the design, coming up with a solution for the cymbal and offering the conveyor belt concept, Molin said in his YouTube video marking the machine’s completion.
“The marbles, you know, they behave like water,” Molin told Wired UK. “The nature of water is that it just breaks through everything.” Although he’d need to figure out a way to control all the marbles that fly out before touring with the machine, it is programmable.
Watching the video of him pulling the levers and cranking the handle on the machine might be the most hipster thing I’ve ever seen in my life. It really does sound like a full band playing. Enjoy the labor of love here:
As a kid I sometimes played with a tilting wood labyrinth puzzle, where the goal was to get the marble to the end without accidentally sending it down one of the many holes. I was never very good at it.