David Byrne's 'Playing the Building' is Beautiful City Noise

Upon entering the room, I saw a line of people waiting to play this old, hand-me-down church organ. In fact, there was nothing else in the room but that organ and a series of cables which were extended and suspended (in a painterly way) to connect to the architecture. I stood in line to play the building.

For more than three decades, [David Byrne] has surprised us by broadening the very definition of an artist. Whether it be groundbreaking music with the Talking Heads or solo projects, visual art, installations or, as in his latest project, combining them all by rigging up a building  for sound.

Byrne’s new installation produced by [Creative Time,] “[Playing The Building](http://www.davidbyrne.com/art/art_projects/playing_the_building/index.php),” is located downtown in the Battery Maritime Building, which was built in 1909, closed in 1938 and hasn’t been open to the public for 50 years. It used to be the waiting room for a ferry terminal to Brooklyn, and it turns out it's a massive building with 9,000 square feet of reverberant space.

As I entered, I heard sounds that were both familiar and alien. Clanging assaults, otherworldly flute tones and a low-end rattling rumble that almost shook the building. This is city noise. The difference between this approach and, say, John Cage is that Byrne uses what might be construed as random sounds and places them under the player’s control.

Just waiting in line is a surreal experience since the sounds are emanating from the entire structure. When I had my turn, the feeling was of such magnitude that it was symphonic. The haunting choirs of pipes howled over deafening bass tones which clashed against menacing percussion.

The organ itself made no sound. It had wires to trigger motors placed on the 40-foot-high ceiling against the girders. The motors cause the girders to vibrate against the glass (formerly stained-glass) ceiling, resonating within the entire room.  The keyboard also set off air hoses which were pumped into the plumbing; turning the pipes into gargantuan, primitive flutes. For percussion, the keyboard triggered solenoids, which are attached to the columns, creating ‘pings’ of various pitches and timbres. The technology was surprisingly old school, consisting of switches, relays and an air pump; on display via the clear back panel.

Byrne’s concept is of the artist as curator. He created the instrument, but it’s up to the visitors to provide the sounds.  He prevented chaos by setting strict parameters. The keyboard is divided into three sections: the motor, flutes and solenoids. Anyone can sound good—whether they are an amateur, or an accomplished musician.

When I finished playing, I felt a certain high that I didn’t expect. I leave you with Byrne’s words: “I didn’t expect it to have quite as strong an effect…people who played the machine, the building, often got silly, ecstatic grins on their faces, and they’d tend to gaze upward—as that was where the sound-producing elements were mounted. So they did appear to be deeply moved… I believe we have an innate longing for the spiritual and ecstatic.”

[ Through Aug. 10, Battery Maritime Building, 10 South St.; Fri.-Sun. noon-6, free.]