Exhibition DJ is an ongoing series that provides a sonic viewing experience for our current exhibitions. We encourage you to listen to the playlist at home, or bring headphones and use it as a soundtrack when you visit the museum.
For our inaugural post, we’ve invited experimental electronic musician and producer enereph, to take us on a journey through scenes portrayed in watercolor in the second rotation of Into the Light: Works on Paper from the Collection. enereph composes percussive labyrinthine music for amorphous inner states, drawing from the experience of being at home and in clubs, gardens, and studios.
By enereph
The works of art in Into the Light: Works on Paper from the Collection are arranged in a linear sequence, and when looking at them, my mind drifts to the experience of riding the Amtrak Cascades train. It is mid-winter, and the weather is equal parts brooding and playful, clear and crisp days interlaced with dark gray ones. I see each painting as a view out the window, a snapshot of the landscape that vanishes in the blink of an eye. Similarly, the delicate nature of these works on paper, makes their time on view necessarily short. I imagine the colors running and pooling on the page as the artists peered over them.
Charles Burchfield. Clouds and Windblown Hay, ca. 1954-64. Watercolor on paper. 40 x 30 in. Museum Purchase, 1964.017. Photo: Jueqian Fang
Track one, “Obit for Sunshade” comes on as I take in the rolling plains of Charles Burchfield’s Clouds and Windblown Hay. The broad brushstrokes illustrate light streaming in blocks from the sky, and although the land is windswept, I feel an overwhelming sense of openness and calm. The synth sweeps and periodic bells of Hotspring’s track seem to weave in and out of the brushstrokes of the painting, as if synced to the pace of the artist’s hand and the light dappling the earth from the sky.
Though the atmosphere is light-drenched, there is a note of mystery and darkness, or “morbidity,” as Burchfield referred to in his outings in nature. I’m transported back to 2021, when I lived on the Kitsap Peninsula and communed with rocks and shells on the shores of the Sound. I wrote “thru the green sea” there, using field recordings of objects I found on daily walks. The all-consuming, mystical connection I felt with nature in that period is reflected in the piece and is activated again as I become increasingly immersed in Burchfield’s work.
Charles Burchfield. Clouds and Windblown Hay, ca. 1954-64. Watercolor on paper. 40 x 30 in. Museum Purchase, 1964.017. Photo: Jueqian Fang
William Sheppley. Skagit Sky, 1989. Watercolor on paper. 15 1/2 x 29 in. Gift of Astalyn and Hans Bebie, 2002.010.02. Photo: Jueqian Fang
The next glance I take out the window presents the horizontal expanse of William Sheppley’s Skagit Sky. A lyrical mood enters my frame of consciousness, led by Xiamen-based producer Knopha’s track “The Light.” As soulful vocals give shape to atmosphere, I am locked into continuous lines of land, treeline, hilltop, and sky. Here in the spaces outside the city, I find myself able to think with more clarity and contour. How much time has passed? I begin to lose track of where I am, as the world becomes a blur.
William Sheppley. Skagit Sky, 1989. Watercolor on paper. 15 1/2 x 29 in. Gift of Astalyn and Hans Bebie, 2002.010.02. Photo: Jueqian Fang
Marie Elise Gray. Passing Storm, ca. 1972. Watercolor on paper. 20 3/8 x 25 1/2 in. Museum Purchase, 1972.024. Photo: Jueqian Fang
I’ve come to appreciate the fickleness of the weather in this region, and when Marie Elise Gray’s Passing Storm comes into view, I breathe a sigh of relief, letting go of any lingering expectations of consistent fine weather. This particular storm is washy and dreamlike, painted with golden ochre and umber tones, with a sky of blue-gray. The colors appear as Beirut-based multi-instrumentalist and puppeteer Yara Asmar’s rich accordion and synth tones sound in her track “from gardens in the city we keep alive.” The colors and sounds swirl around the landscape, and the playful bells and whistled melodies remind me that the storm will also pass, leaving behind a surreal stillness.
Marie Elise Gray. Passing Storm, ca. 1972. Watercolor on paper. 20 3/8 x 25 1/2 in. Museum Purchase, 1972.024. Photo: Jueqian Fang
James Peck. Steamboat Rock, Grand Coulee, Washington, ca. 1950. Watercolor on paper. 21 x 25 1/2 in. Bequest of Dr. Jean-Claude Donald Michel, 1997.002.02. Photo: Jueqian Fang
Stillness finds me in the off-kilter picture of Steamboat Rock, Grand Coulee, Washington by James Peck. With expressively rendered dry foliage and the grand flat heap of earth rising above, the picture evokes the bouncy sonic palettes of “SHAN SHUI” by Wuhan-based producer Night Swimmer and “Tropic Sub” by Taiwan-based psych rock duo Mong Tong. I feel not only the physical distance traveled by this train, but also the mental distance covered through reflecting on the places I’ve been that I’m reminded of, or yearn for, at any given moment. Looking out the window elicits memories of friends in distant places, and I take time in this wily environment to think of them and miss them.
James Peck. Steamboat Rock, Grand Coulee, Washington, ca. 1950. Watercolor on paper. 21 x 25 1/2 in. Bequest of Dr. Jean-Claude Donald Michel, 1997.002.02. Photo: Jueqian Fang
Gudrun Brask. Gloaming, ca. 1963. Watercolor on paper. 15 5/8 x 20 3/4 in. Gift of the artist, 1981.015.01. Photo: Jueqian Fang
Nearing the end of my journey, I see signs of civilization in the form of some buildings on the edge of a nameless town, rendered by Gudrun Brask. It’s twilight, or gloaming, and the driving beat of Gong Gong Gong’s track “Wei Wei Wei 喂喂喂” fills my ears with a reckless attitude. Sometimes getting somewhere can feel strange, and coming back home can be surprisingly alienating. Regardless, it’s time to get off this train.
Although I’ve arrived somewhere, the journey is ongoing. With Maarja Nuut and Sun Araw’s improvised piece “Globular Exeunt,” I turn inward, closing my eyes gently. The artworks in this exhibition have given me many chances to look outward and experience life through sound and image, and for that I’m grateful.
Gudrun Brask. Gloaming, ca. 1963. Watercolor on paper. 15 5/8 x 20 3/4 in. Gift of the artist, 1981.015.01. Photo: Jueqian Fang
The playlist is available to stream through Buy Music Club, and listeners are encouraged to support featured artists directly by following links to each track’s BandCamp page.
Learn more about and follow enereph on Instagram.