Anna Samsøe & Andreas Stoubye Johansen at Four Boxes Gallery in Krabbesholm, Denmark.


Anna Samsøe & Andreas Stoubye : Vagus
April 22 -  May 3, 2021
Four Boxes Gallery, Krabbesholm

The Exhibition VAGUS present a series of acoustic sculptures connected in a circuit. A clean frequency is generated in the wooden part of the body, light sensors placed in the sculptures on the wall pitch the tone according to registered movement by the visitors. The sound extends in the leather string penetrating the ceramic sculptures, creating waves in the string.

Embodying an extemporary aesthetics, the ceramic features in the exhibition refer to both past creatures and future beings,
Vagus means the wanderer and is the name of the longest and most complex of cranial
 nerves.
The vagus nerve runs from the brain through the face and thorax to the abdomen. It touches all of the internal organs and the nerve is crucial for our bodys breath, puls and speech.

Andreas Stoubye Johansen and Anna Samsøe is a duo working with sound installations. That sound is a material that shapes man, and change not only the conception of the world but the world itself, is a notable comment in their work.Andreas Stoubye Johansen (b.1978, DK) lives and works in Copenhagen. He has studied at The Funen Art Academy and among others exhibited at SMK andAnna Samsøe (b.1987, DK) lives and works in Copenhagen. She has studied at The Funen Art Academy and Academie Der Bildende Kunste. Among others exhibited at Gl. Holtegaard, Brandts 13.

 

Satelite-text:

... but how would you spell it?
The following text passages are excerpts from a study on onomatopoeia (words that phonetically
resemble the sound that they describe) lead by the Chicago Institute of Binaural Sciences
(CIBS) under the title ‘Relational studies on limitations, possibilities and influences of
consonants on the creation of novel onomatopoeia within the English language on the basis of
rare and undocumented binaural experiences’ co-authored by Prof. Dr. Herman Siebenmorgen and
Prof. Fredric Zoltan Gabór (CIBS-press, 2012).
Part 1
(transcripts of the participants literal descriptions of extraordinary sound experiences)
Participant 1:
‘“The house was almost offensively dull in its appearance: Neat, even pedantically well-
groomed lawn, grayish-brownish bricks, framed by its own and the neighbor’s garage. A mailbox
and a ceramic sign with the owner’s name, supposedly to give a touch of humanity and
liveliness to what I have come to think of as a place of absence of life.
I probably would have never noticed or mentioned a site as mediocre in looks, if it wasn't for
the stabbing sensation I felt whenever I passed by. The first time it happened, I didn't quite
understand the cause of my unease. I was walking with headphones on, when a sudden pain shot
through me, as if a thin metal thread was pushed violently through my ears. A mixture of sound
and brutal touch, like an old television that's switched off with a sharp sound that tickles
the eardrums but a thousand times worse. I walked on and blamed the headphones, and it
disappeared after a second or two.”
(...)
“A few days later I passed by the house again, and this time I wasn't wearing headphones. It
was as if I could hear pain. White noise carving a tunnel from one ear to another. And I turned to the house and I sensed death. But I shook it off and walked on.”
(...)
“I couldn't let it go. It bothered me that I was freaked out by the most unspectacular piece
of property I could possibly think of. I asked a friend to join me for a walk. We got to the
house: I heard the pain but kept my gaze focused on my friend's facial expressions. He kept
talking uninterrupted as we passed. No sign of unsettlement. 'Did you just hear that?' I asked
as we got out of the houses radius. 'Hear what?'. He had no clue.”
(...)
“No one else I ever walked with on that route ever reacted to the sound and a feeling of
alienation slowly began to settle in. One day, despite the discomfort between my ears, I
stopped to study the yard in front of the house. The grass looked fresh and healthy, yet
lifeless and when I compared it to the gardens around it I realized a strange absence of
animals. The evening sun highlighted countless mosquito dances and bees and bugs and all sorts
of creatures everywhere around, except for in this single front-yard. And I noticed something
else: A small black box sitting under a well-trimmed bush, not a camera, but some sort of
electronic device. I am usually not much of a trespasser, but my curiosity was simply too
strong. I approached the box and the closer I got, the more painful the sound vibrated in my
head. There was a sticker on one side, with some sort of rodent icon. A rat or a mouse. Next
to it an image of a spider and what looked like a cockroach. I got even closer and finally
read the products name: 'Supersonic Pest Repeller'. I wasn't supposed to hear that sound. I
still don't understand why only I could.”
Part II
The participants were asked to create an onomatopoeia using the 26 letters of the English
alphabet to phonetically document the previously described sound.
Participant 1:
„Fffffffttppppssssss...”
(Text by Gisa Pantel)

 Photo: Per Andersen