Contrary to popular belief, the ear is not simply a receiver. Tiny hair cells that line the cochlea produce sounds either spontaneously (SOAEs, or Spontaneous Otoacoustic Emissions), or when provoked (EOAEs, or Evoked Otoacoustic Emissions). Through his groundbreaking work Labyrinthitis, Jacob Kirkegaard may be the first artist to exploit the ears as musical instruments.
In the installation, the Danish sound artist sits in an isolated room and plays sounds (his own previously recorded OAEs) into his ears with miniature amplifiers. These tones in turn generate EOAEs that are relayed from his ears to the crowd with miniscule microphones (devices used in pure-tone audiometry for newborn hearing screenings). By playing back two tones in a ratio of ƒ1:ƒ2, a third tone results, perceived by the audience internally at first. Soon after, Kirkegaard generates the tone through the room’s loudspeaker, and the audience hears it (as the accompanying guide/essay booklet explains) “for real.” As the piece progresses, tones move in and out of focus, distorting one another in a dizzying series of “third tone” generation.
Though the prospect of a 38-minute drone piece will prove daunting to the majority of the public, Labyrinthitis is a rewarding work created through completely unprecedented means. The physical experience alone makes it worth seeking out. Though the strident tones are difficult to listen to at first, your ears quickly grow accustomed to them. Time seems to work differently when listening to the album, as the close-frequency waves in microtonal intervals beat against each other between your ears. Just as the condition from which the album takes its title, listening to this work is a disorienting experience.
Labyrinthitis is an inflammation of the inner ear that causes balance problems, and possibly temporary tinnitus. The only other time that the ‘ringing in the ears’ sounds of tinnitus have been musically replicated (to my knowledge) was on Aphex Twin’s brutal “Ventolin.” Kirkegaard’s work is much more measured, more patient, and less abrasive (as always), but is no less intriguing.
Jacob Kirkegaard is no stranger to innovative recordings. On Eldfjall, he recorded the sounds of the Earth through accelerometers, and Four Rooms featured haunting drones recorded in four abandoned, irradiated spaces near the Chernobyl disaster site. Labyrinthitis makes a worthy, engrossing addition to the artist’s already impressive oeuvre. However, because it was originally intended as an interactive installation piece, distributing it for home listeners’ enjoyment is challenging. Though I found the concept and sounds fascinating, I had difficulty sitting through the duration of the piece each time I approached it for a listen (and I’m a prospective audiology student). The release comes in deluxe packaging and an informative, thoughtful booklet of essays on the album and installation, and will likely please anybody ready for something that challenges the listener as well as tradition.
More about: Jacob Kirkegaard
