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On doing a drawing every day in 2021

“What a lot of drawings!” What a pile, a heap, a tangle, the lines of which (if you could lay them end-to-end) would stretch all the way… back to 2020. If it were possible to remove the paper from under the drawings, I wonder which part of the nominal A4 would be the darkest? If it were possible to see each drawing not as an attempt at figuration, but merely as the floating forms of its constituent blocks and lines, I wonder whether there are any really identical parts, irrespective of how minute. I wonder how much time I spent doing them, and whether, if presented with the correct figure, it would sound right. Closer to 200 than 300 hours, and probably a good deal less than that, although there were some long ones. I wonder whether, were the drawings organised according to how much time each took to do, thematic consistencies would emerge: Dogs, 28 minutes. Humans (non-moving), 40 minutes. Humans (moving), 55 minutes. Desk paraphernalia, <10 minutes.

Something makes these questions, this kind of hypothetical autopsy, necessary, and this is that a year’s worth of drawings, though a definite project, cannot be said to follow a programme. Now, as a total body with the overarching enterprise looming larger than the individual pieces that make it up, the drawings are no longer what they were. Or rather, they present a different aspect: as an evidence, not so much proof as example, illustrations of some point made or lessons learnt. As if to illustrate these very words, but of course they came first, and so in order to get at them again it is necessary to pull the drawings apart in novel ways, or frame them according to some concern entirely absent in their production: as a mass. They become differently graphic, an abrupt multitude, like a row of cadavers to a class of anatomy students just as taken with their brute materiality as with naming the known parts.

My favourite pencil remains the 3H, which for some reason has a harder lead in my set than the 4H, and produces a lighter line. Some of the more bewitching moments in doing the drawings involved shading with the 3H just as it found a perfect smoothness, lighter than dust over the page which bears no physical impression but for a downy silver block. The wavering eyebrow declaratives of any of the softer, darker leads next to this are electrifying – a confession that feels as personal and intimate an autobiography as one could ever get.

NOAH ROBINSON. @noah_jmr

i dream of labour 


I am trying.

Holding flowers.  

…I brought you these.  

- They’re – thank you.  

I was going to give them to you at work, but I thought someone would say something, or something like that. 

- Pricks. 

I thought you got on with some of them. 

- Really?

Seems like. 

- In my head I am just thinking ‘fuck off’, it bores me to death honestly. ‘How was your weekend? Fine, you? Yeah fine, you?’ 



- They’re very pretty.  


- The flowers, they’re very pretty.  

Um they’re alright. 

- What are they?  

They’re flowers.  

- The type.  


- Have you seen the roses?  

On the way in.  

- I try my best but I never seem to have the time, or energy.  

Perhaps it’s the colour.  

- The red? I’ll make sure I take care, touch, these ones. It’d be a shame.  

Shit! this one’s wilted a bit. See.  

- (going) I’ll put them in water. 



Don’t go.  

- Sits.  

- Are you upset?  

About the flowers? 

- Nods.

No. Not particularly. They were just from round the corner. Dirt cheap. No, I’m not upset. I just wanted to give you something.  You always see those elaborate bouquets but they just make me fucking depressed. 


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August 12th is a day I lived twice

While spent in the cramped cabin

Of a too cold aircraft

I warmed at the thought

That for forty-eight hours

Instead of the normal twenty-four

I got to say I saw you this morning

Even if for the last time


In hindsight

I would like to revoke

My previously enthusiastic consent

While occurring months later

You have breached the conditions I set for it

We are no longer friends

You do not hold my trust

You are no longer safe

I know you will not take this to heart

Please don’t think ill of me

In fact think of me no more


I’ve watched the sunset over Lake Huron

Time after a thousand

But no time feels more different than this

The time after

After England, after all this

The pain and the wishing to die

I’m glad I kept living, even out of pettiness

To see it again


I remember us talking

About St. Christopher

Did you pray to him

When I got on that plane?


I have never been in love

(thank god for these small blessings)

But oh how I LOVE

The whispers and the musings

The small parts of others

That I find so soothing

When lies are established and 

believed to be true, 

untruth leaks and creates rot. 


they say.


Untruth is not exactly lies, 

but it is definitively not truth.

When rot is discovered, 

fragile structures collapse. 

[map of collapse evident in photographs]

photographs that might say something,

almost true.


The framing and construction 

of such lies is dependent on

little secrets (that infer truth) 

falling through the cracks. 


Precarious stories are told and untold. 

REFRAMED, in a post-modern decolonial lens

most typically established by the colonizer themselves.


they say.

One should be thankful the truth is out there.

*for the most part, and for those who seeking it.




The truth is forgotten, for it is too painful to remember such duplicity.

The truth passes with the wind, as headlines fall and rise quickly.





*The truth MUST unfold and be unfurled (naturally, of course) 

like a newspaper collapsing 

under the weight of rain, with drops spreading, smearing

the text of the precarious surface, structured and formatted 

to attract men, women and children.


Structures hide secrets in back alleys.

Central Intelligence Agency, a structure, 

known, but hidden. Hidden, but not known.

So few collect about such a broken structure, 

for to collect is to admit that secrecy 




built for people’s best interests.

Justification is key.

Such beasts are wounded by truths.


America, the beautiful, 

America, the brave,

America that consumes 

those who are lesser, those who are LOSERS

in wars and other’s eyes.

To build an EMPIRE, one must consume, 

often becoming a sight for sore eyes 

(a beast perhaps).


America, that establishes autonomy, 

at any cost, (America first, right?)

by reorganizing other’s nations freedoms.

(with sticky notes in the margins of history 

with who overthrew what country)

America that constructs truths that suit.

Truths follow suit, but untruths reveal 

that America, the BEAUTIFUL, 

swallows autonomy 



FREEDOM, a right many earn by birth.

FREEDOM, a right I have by chance.

FREEDOM, a word many chase 

around town, hoping to WIN.

FREEDOM, a privilege 

afforded to members of an empire.



Let us all draw lines in the sand 

and see who is a winner. 

What patch of land is prime,

in this hierarchy of homes?


What side of the big blue did you originate from?

What story should I tell?

What STORY should I tell, you, my reader?

The TRUTH will cost us all an arm and a leg.

What country should I claim as home?

The TRUTH will cost us all an arm and a leg.

What lines we draw limit us…

What lines we fall within

allow us access to FREEDOM on the axis.



I ache to forget the feeling of striving 

‘I’ve got thirty minutes in Dumbo.’

they say.

(insert anecdote about the American dream here)

only earned when consumed by undisguised avarice 

(see documents that contain greed).

SEE untruth in charts, documents and photographs.


they say.

[place yourself in the know].


I hope to outgrow 

constructs of ‘WINNERS’ and ‘LOSERS

for what can grow from

rotten desires to win AT ALL COSTS.


FREE the mind of this hierarchy of homes.

Otherwise, we loose,

in our own ways, in our own ways,

in our own ways, in our own ways.


Untruth makes for fertile foundations in futures unknown:

one could build a nation upon it, some do and call it diplomacy.

Untruth pollutes and populates the contemporary… 

{fill in terms that suit}.

Making one question

[Is the truth an anomaly?]

{Is the truth a prophecy?}

Waiting to spilled like cool milk.



On scraps of flawed isms we found

the future, the future, the future.

On scraps of sorrow and forgiveness we RE-found

the future, the future, the future.

{Is guilt a prophecy?}

by which we order our fates.



A girl can hope,

A girl can dream,

Of a country (unnamed, non-existant)

that is not ruled by an ism 

(fascism, perhaps?).

that is not founded on imperfect promises 

(defaulted upon once elected).

that is not prey to secrecy

(all in the best interests of one man or two perhaps).

But the secrecy does not last long.


When lies are established and 

believed to be true, 

untruth leaks and creates rot. 


they say.




In this essay my aim is to argue how sound art can be considered a queer art practice. The term queer has gone through a large amount of cultural change. It has been considered as an adjective, defining something strange, weird, not ordinary, out of status quo (oxfordlearnersdictionaries, 2020). It has become a taboo verb which is used within society as a homophobic slur to target and marginalise groups of people (oxfordlearnersdictionaries). However, in a more positive way, it has gone through a process of amelioration, now gaining a more positive meaning (Getsy, 2016). Getsy (2016, p.12) describes how the term ‘queer’ was developed as a mode of resistance […] ‘a rejection of assimilation’, ‘a defiance to the mainstream and an embrace of difference’, demonstrating how ‘queer’ is been used as an identity, a celebration and a material with agency.


An important question is, how can queer be considered as an art practice? Queer art can be considered anything that is not traditional, art that looks at the body, performance art and art that explores sexuality that is anti-establishment, anti-art and anti-normativity (Getsy, 2016). As such, queer artwork can be produced in a range of media. Art made by or representing queer people, that takes ‘queer’ seriously in form, material and content can be considered as a queer art practice (Stupart, 2020). It can be argued that sound art can be performative, can involve the body, can be anti-establishment, hence can be a queer art practice.  By applying Judith Butler’s writings on queer theory, more recent studies such as Lord and Meyer’s (2013) Art and Queer Culture, alongside examples of sound art by artists such as Zosia Hołubowska and Cassils, I will demonstrate ways in which ‘queer’ and sound can be used as a material to produce artwork. To reflect this idea of queer I want to make an essay that is not traditional in form. The essay is also presented as an interactive game, which challenges the concepts of what academic writing can be as well as being more performative, spatial, and involving the user to fully connect with a queer sound practice. You can play the interactive essay game here

It is important to look at the history of gender before understanding how it can be applied to an artistic practice. The concept of queer challenges traditional ideologies on gender. The term ideology is a set of ideas and/or beliefs of a certain individual or social group (Cambridge Dictionary, 2020), and Kroska (2007) stated that gender ideology refers to the societal ideas regarding the appropriate roles and behaviours of women and men. However, the concept of gender ideology is based on a binary classification, with ‘binary’ representing something made up of two things, this brings about the classification of people being identified as either male or female (Connell, 2005). This reflects the perceived heteronormativity of societies culture, with this term referring to a "foundational belief that heterosexuality is natural and normal, and therefore, all non-heterosexual attractions, desires and practices are unnatural and abnormal" (Connell, 2005, p.829). Queerness is offsetting this perceived hegemonic identity, challenging the hegemonic femininity that represents all qualities women should abide to in society, as well as the hegemonic masculinity referring to the normative qualities and behavioural ideals for men accepted within society where both representations consist of being white, heterosexual, able-bodied and middle class (Connell, 2005). Due to this, representations of queer artwork can be difficult. However, under the UK Equal Opportunity Act (2010), it is against the law to discriminate or wrongly treat an individual because of their gender, allowing the representation of queer people to become more accepted. This can be related to how queer art can be produced more openly but can also allow us to look back at historical artwork with a new lens of what can be considered a queer art practice (GOV.UK, 2019).


An example of a contemporary artist who uses queerness as a materiality is Zosia Hołubowska. A PhD Fellow at the Academy of Fine Arts, they define themselves as a queer artist and sound activist, exploring the use of singing alongside synthesisers (Sounds Queer?, 2019). They are part of a Vienna based art activist group Sounds Queer? founded in 2014, whose role is to research the idea of what constitutes a queer sound, provide a safe and visible community for queers and non-gender binary people in order to learn processes of making electronic music (Sounds Queer?, 2019). This brings diversity into the digital media artworld.

Picture 1.jpg

Fig 1: Zosia Hołubowska, Out of Work [sound design

sample], cover art for song, 3:26 minutes, 2019.

Their artwork challenges the role of queer people and women in the artworld and music industry, using this exploration of queer sound as a rebellious form of anti-establishment. Licht (2007) describes how sound art has a distinct link with the dematerialisation of the art object, causing the physical and visual element of artwork to be replaced by a conceptual representation of sound that is auditory and spatial. This is similar to the ways queer presents a non-traditional artform that can become more conceptual and does not need an art object (Licht, 2007). Queer art practices that involve performance can negate the need for a visual object, instead allowing the body or sound to become the artwork which can be interpreted in a conceptual way (Berlant and Warner, 1995). This idea is used within the recorded song ‘Sounds Queer? // Unsound Solidarity Kraków // 09.10.2019’ which was recorded as part of a Sounds Queer? workshop during Unsound Festival in Kraków (Soundcloud, 2019). The use of recorded sounds from contact mics combined with droning electronic sounds produced in Ableton software, creates a steady pulsating rhythm of abstract, unusual sounds. This forms the basis of this query into queer sounds and the idea of unusual sounds correlates to the representation of queer as being weird and abnormal. It creates a collaborative atmosphere using noisy, uncomfortable, weird sounds to explore queerness. Sounds Queer? (2019) stated how synths can be a feminist instrument which can oppose social norms. This may be due to the use of the non-traditional digital realm of software which allows queer people to present ideas of feminism through their compositions. Claiming the synth as a feminist instrument helps to encourage other queer people to work with audio and sound art. This explores the artists intention as anti-establishment, using sound as a queer art practice to bring awareness of queer people into the art world to educate viewers. 

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Fig 2: Zosia Hołubowska: Sounds Queer? //

Unsound Solidarity Kraków // 09.10.2019, cover

art for song, 2:39 minutes, 2019.

The cover art, as shown above, displays a colourful mind map of terms such as ‘pluralistic’ which can be defined as “a person who believes that the existence of different types of people, beliefs, and opinions within a society is a good thing” (Cambridge Dictionary, 2020). This displays the existence of different queer people and represents this in a positive way to reinforce a sense of co-habiting and a safe, joyous celebration of sexuality that should not be undermined. This further explores how the non-linear and personal characteristics of sound art has been used as a queer art practice. The term non-linear refers to a form which is not straightforward or sequential, as queer is not a straightforward approach to art making and concepts of desire (Cambridge Dictionary, 2020). With the anti-art qualities of queer art, sound art can also be defined as being indefinable (Licht, 2007). Although, the advent of sound art practices can be traced back to the inventions of digital equipment (such as the telephone and audio recording) alongside concepts of acoustic space, this is similar to how queer art has become more exposed due to societies openness to queer culture after the UK Equal Opportunity Act (2010) (Licht 2007). 

There are many examples of how a queer art practice can be considered as sound art. The performance by Cassils (2012-present) ‘Becoming an Image’ is a clear example of this. The multimedia piece contains aspects of performance and sculpture with the audience standing in a circle around the performer in a dark room, while the artist uses their own body to violently reshape and sculpt a clay obelisk (Cassils, 2012-present). It also involves photography and sound, where the only time the audience sees the performer is with the flash of the camera, capturing the performer in mid punch and burning the image onto the viewers retinas creating a ‘live’ image (, 2020). This also produces a dynamic sound environment, with the physical endurance of the performer causing gasps and the slapping of bodily contact, attacking the audience with queer sounds of physical strain. Hall (2013, p.47) explores how ‘experiences of sculptural works [are] capable of teaching us conceptual frameworks through which to recognise new or different genders’. This concept can be applied to Cassils (2012) artwork in how the queer sound practice is able to portray a new kind of gender to educate viewers.

Picture 3.png

Fig 3: Cassils, Becoming an Image,

performance, photography, sculpture and

sound. 27 minutes, 2012–present.

Furthermore, Noy (2018) explores how sound art deviates from the traditional mono-sensory approach of creating only visual art. Instead, sound art creates work that is multisensory, such as sound and performance that still provides an interconnectedness with the visual. Cassils can be identified as a queer artist, as Frizzel (2013) describes in their article that ‘Cassils' identity is resolutely ambiguous’, and ‘by playing with body art, gay male aesthetics and extreme physical training […] the artist has adapted his own female body into a series of powerful physical shapes that challenge any notion of binary gender’. Overall, this shows how by Cassils (2012) using the medium of sound and performance it can be seen as a queer art practice and is able to retaliate against stereotypical representations of gender and challenge the perceived gender ideology of binary gender.


Similarly, sound can be combined with other media such as sculpture and be seen as a queer art practice. The remains of Cassils (2012) performance were also used to produce a singular piece of sculpture and sound titled ‘Ghost’. The noun ‘ghost’ is defined as ‘an apparition of a dead person which is believed to appear or become manifest to the living, typically as a nebulous image’ (Lexico, 2019). This nebulous image can be seen as the trace of the performance, the object and queer sound that is left behind, linking to the concept of queer art as a strange, non-traditional artform that is spatial, involves the body and is made by a queer artist. The placement of the speakers in relation to how the viewer will walk around the sculpture reflects this concept of speciality and acoustics, allowing the room to be filled with the sounds of the performer’s movements, blows and fast breath, making the artwork living and multisensory. LaBelle (2015 p.1) explores how ‘sound and space have a dynamic relationship’ suggesting that sound art, like queer art is inherently spatial and puts the body as a replacement for the art object. Also, Jones (2015, p.18) reviewed the artwork stating it was ‘a new genre of hybrid artworks [which] evokes complex art experiences that are performative [and the viewer can] understand the relational tensions and seductions between human and nonhuman’. This demonstrates how Cassils (2013) installation uses sound as a queer art practice.

Picture 4.jpg

Fig 4: Cassils, Ghost, 4-channel sound installation, still

image, 2013.

Sound art can also be seen as a queer art practice in historical examples of artwork such as John Cage’s 4’33 (1952). This was composed for any instrument and was made up of 4 minutes and 33 seconds of complete silence, which was played as a performance. However, as White (2012) stated ‘critics argued [Cage’s artwork] exposed him as inherently unmusical’. This explores how at the time of the 1940’s Cage’s work with music was seen as very radical and seen as queer, in the way that it was weird and not traditional. Meyer and Lord (2013) have described how due to the bans against artists who depicted homoerotic imagery, queer art practices would not have been presented. It is only in todays society that we can begin to look at Cage’s work as containing a queer sound practice due to how societal movements such as the Gay liberation Front (GLF) and queer activists have created a shift in the way that we perceive sexualities, and so challenge the traditional representations of gender (Meyer and Lord, 2013). 

Picture 5.png

Fig 5: John Cage, 4’33, still image, 1952.

Katz (1999) explored the way that Cage’s (1952) composition 4’33 can be presented as a queer silence. This silence is used as a form of both sound art through using a queer art practice. The period of queer silence is an anti-establishment, rebellious and anti-art form of expression. This took the focus away from the artist and art object and made the viewer part of the artwork. All the background noise became the composition, with all the unwanted sounds brought to attention, the way that queerness is also brought to attention. Perceived as a weird, unorthodox performance, it goes against traditional art in the same way that queerness is defined as weird and represented as a retaliation against traditional art practices. Many laws existed against homosexuality such as in the 1960s US, people who defined as gay were seen to have a mental illness, and until 1967 it was against the law to identify as gay in the UK (BBC, 2020). This prevented queer art practices and the openness for queer culture which led to silence by queer people, similar to the silence created by Cage. Berlant and Warner, (1995, p.344) states that ‘the notion [of] “queer theory” arose after 1990, when AIDS and queer activism provoked intellectuals to see themselves as bringing a queerer world into being’. This can be demonstrated through ways in which we can analyse John Cage’s 4’33 with a contemporary queer lens, to find new meaning in the artwork. As Sahib (2014, p.194) explores ‘Work isn’t self-conscious about having a queer agenda, but performs a queer politics by taking everyday objects and mining their sexual connotations’. This explores how Cage 4’33 may not be intended as a political piece of art, however, critics and viewers perception of the sound art can be seen as being a queer art practice and representing concepts of queer identity. Butler (1990, p.16,17) describes how ‘gender is a normative ideal’ and that ‘the heterosexualization of desire requires and institutes the production of discrete and asymmetrical oppositions between “feminine” and “masculine”. This demonstrates how societies heteronormative expectations of people is to be straight or ‘normal’. This allows artwork with a queer sound practice to go against the societies norms and representing the anti-normativity of queer. With the use of a queer silence in the form of a music composition it explores how sound art can be considered a queer art practice to be used to present concepts of gender and identity. The silence can be interpreted as queer due to the weird, uncomfortable act of listening, subverting the expectation of a traditional music composition by making an awkward atmosphere of waiting for something to happen.


In conclusion I have demonstrated various examples of historic and contemporary artists that create queer artwork using a sound-based practice. Combining this with critical understandings of queer theory from Judith Butler, Lord and Meyer, alongside sound art research by Licht and LaBelle, I have explored how sound art can be considered a queer art practice. Although sound art can be considered a queer art practice my research has shown that it can be argued that any media can be a queer art practice. This is due to the way queer art is all to do with the artists intentions and the ideas that are being presented to the viewer, such as homophobia, sexuality and the body. This involves any art practice that goes against the traditional conceptions of art.

Reference List: (2020). Stonewall: 50 years on from the riots that changed gay rights history - CBBC Newsround. [online] Available at: [Accessed 3 Jan. 2020].

Berlant, L. and Warner, M. (1995). What Does Queer Theory Teach Us about X?. Modern Language Association, [online] 110(3), pp.343-349. Available at: (Accessed on 15 Dec. 2019).

Butler, J. (1990). Gender trouble. Feminism and the subversion of identity. 1st ed. London: Routledge. (2020). Cassils: Artwork: Becoming an Image. [online] Available at: [Accessed 2 Jan. 2020].

Connell, R. W. and Messerschmidt, J. W. (2005) ‘Hegemonic Masculinity: Rethinking the Concept’, Gender & Society, 19(6), pp. 829–859. doi: 10.1177/0891243205278639.

Feiereisen, F., 2018. Emergency Noises: Sound Art and Gender by Irene Noy (review). German Studies Review, 41(3), pp. 671-673.

Frizzell, N. (2013). Heather Cassils: the transgender bodybuilder who attacks heaps of clay. The Guardian. [online] Available at: [Accessed 2 Jan. 2020].

Getsy, D. ed., (2016). Queer (Documents of Contemporary Art). 1st ed. London: The MIT Press.

ghost. (2020). In: Lexico. [online] Available at: [Accessed 2 Jan. 2020].

Hall, G. (2013). Object Lessons: Thinking Gender Variance through Minimalist Sculpture. Art Journal, [online] 72(4), pp.46-57. Available at: (Accessed on 15 Dec. 2019).

Hołubowska, Z. (2020). Zosia Hołubowska. [online] SoundCloud. Available at: [Accessed 1 Jan. 2020].

ideology. (2020). In: Cambridge Dictionary, 1st ed. [online] Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Available at:[Accessed 1 Jan. 2020].

Jones, A. (2015). Material Traces: Performativity, Artistic “Work,” and New Concepts of Agency. TDR/The Drama Review, [online] 59(4), pp.18-35. Available at: [Accessed 2 Jan. 2020].

Katz, J. (1999). John Cage's Queer Silence; Or, How to Avoid Making Matters Worse. GLQ: A Journal of Lesbian and Gay Studies, [online] 5(2), pp.231-252. Available at: [Accessed 3 Jan. 2020].

Kroska, A. (2007) ‘Gender ideology and gender role ideology’, Blackwell Encyclopaedia of Sociology [Online]. Available at subscriber/ uid=3/ tocnode?id=g9781405124331_chunk_g978140512433113_ss1-19 (Accessed 19 January 2016).

LaBelle, B. (2015). Background noise: Perspectives on Sound Art. 2nd ed. New York: Bloomsbury Academic, pp.1, 2, 3, 4, 55.

Lord, C. and Meyer, R. (2013). Art & queer culture. 1st ed. London: Phaidon.

non-linear. (2020). In: Cambridge Dictionary, 1st ed. [online] Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Available at: [Accessed 1 Jan. 2020].

pluralist. (2020). In: Cambridge Dictionary, 1st ed. [online] Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Available at: [Accessed 1 Jan. 2020].

queer. (2020). In: Oxford Learner's Dictionary. [online] Oxford University Press. Available at: [Accessed 2 Jan. 2020].

Sahib, P (2014). To Make Queer Art Now in, Getsy, D. ed., (2016). Queer (Documents of Contemporary Art). 1st ed. London: The MIT Press.

Sounds Queer?. (2020). About — Sounds Queer?. [online] Available at: [Accessed 1 Jan. 2020].

Stupart, L. (2019) ‘Queer intersectionality’, [Lecture], ART5129: Critical Theories in Art. Birmingham City University, delivered 27 December 2019.

White, M. (2012). Music has slipped through the bars of Cage. The Telegraph, [online] p.1. Available at: [Accessed 3 Jan. 2020].


Image List:


Fig 1. Zosia Hołubowska, (2019) Out of Work [sound design sample], cover art for song, 3:26 minutes, available at:

Fig 2: Zosia Hołubowska, (2019) Sounds Queer? // Unsound Solidarity Kraków // 09.10.2019, cover art for song, 2:39 minutes, available at:

Fig 3: Cassils, (2012) Becoming an Image, performance, photography, sculpture and sound. 27 minutes, available at:

Fig 4: Cassils, (2013) Ghost, still image of 4-channel sound installation, available at:

Fig 4: John Cage, (1952) 4’33, still image, available at

JANET TRYNER. Blog:  //  Visual Art:

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RACHAEL REES. @rrworking

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