These effigies bring back the suppressed bad dreams of childhood, the dark memories omitted from the softly uttered Swedish words in the space between memory. Only two Leslie speakers reach this constricted top level. The sound is so much a part of us by now that it seems as though we are not hearing it, but creating it. It is inside our heads.

Once one has stepped on the disk, one stands still and experiences the room circling around, just as on the floor below, the viewer had to spin to follow the revolving text.

The double movement of the speakers creates --·· ~ _:--~~:"' a haunting tremolo. They project a .. rich melange: the voices of singers in a local choir who pass sustained notes among themselves, the artist reading a poem, Charles Wach-meister reading from a 1534 text on computations and later hum-ming, his 12-year-old daughter humming and later playing a count-ing/clapping game with her cousin, the ambient sounds of the farm (grain pouring into a silo, pheas-ants just before hatching, cows lowing and being called). Like sep-arate handfuls of wool spun into a single strong thread, these many aural elements projecting from the spinning speakers blend together into a seamless harmony that seems both familiar and eerie, ascending and >-descending in volume and through ffi space.

In lignum, sound emerged from the back-ground to become a central, defining medium of the piece: sonorous, reso-nant, surrounding, sung, spoken, and hummed tones and words that are heard and felt, that envelop and rever-berate through viewer and space.