"No interaction is repeatable" - Charley Friedman's Everson exhibit

By Paola Gonzalez

“Charley Friedman: Soundtracks for the Present Future” is the latest exhibition to join the Everson Museum of Art, located in Downtown Syracuse. After premiering in Omaha at Bemis Center for Contemporary Arts, the exhibition is showing at the Everson Museum until April 10, 2020. According to the artist, the collection explores ideas around decentralization and diversity through the multiplicity of distinct instruments. Each is a unique character within a crowd, all individuals yet within one collective.

The vastness of the museum made me feel like a tiny dust particle in the grand scheme of the place, brilliantly designed by I.M. Pei. Nevertheless, I went upstairs to find this exhibition.

As I cruised the museum, I could hear my own footsteps stomping to Gallery B. Suddenly, the closer I got, my ears flooded with subtle guitar notes and whimsical sounds. “That’s weird,” I thought to myself as I stopped dead in my tracks to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating.

I was in fact, not hallucinating. Turns out, the exhibition was more than a display of vintage guitars, it was an immersive auditory installation. “Huh, that’s different,” I thought when I finally walked into Gallery B.

Sixty second-hand guitars, mandolins, and bass instruments hung from the ceiling in the form of a constellation. It is a lot to take in visually, but most surprisingly, it is a lot to take in emotionally.

The sound of the exhibit overpowered my thoughts, allowing me to feel a sweet release from my mind. It made me emotional since in everyday life we’re constantly dictated by our thoughts, fear, and emotions – sitting in this exhibition allowed me to take a break and finally breathe. And not only breathe, but also enjoy my surroundings.

This organized presentation and display of floating instruments touched on almost every sense of the body. Visually, the instruments are suspended from the ceiling by individual strings. At first, it's curious to see clusters of instruments hanging from the ceiling, but it isn’t until the instruments start playing music that the real magic happens.

Thanks to the power of technology, the exhibit transcends a visual dimension and becomes an auditory experience. Special computer software allows the instruments to play different notes and strings, creating a labyrinth of music that sounds and feels different as you explore the exhibit.

In unison, the music made me feel like I’m in a pivotal scene in the movie that is my life – it’s not every day that you’re serenaded by 60 floating string instruments.

The music built a sense of connection between myself and others who also explored the exhibit - we were seeing, feeling, and experiencing the same thing. I think this speaks to the goal Friedman had of “highlighting the power and harmony of a collective voice, while never deafening the unique character of the lone guitar.”

I sat there facing the instruments for at least 20 minutes. That whole time, not a single thought went through my mind besides an emerging feeling of bliss. During that time the instruments played a medley of classical European music and other recent compositions, and I never knew the beginning or end of each song.

Every time someone visits they’ll listen to something different, creating a purely unique experience. This individuality sets the installation apart from typical art exhibits. No interaction is ever entirely repeatable.