Soundwalk

For my exercise in sound, I spent my time on York Avenue. Because it is surrounded by multiple hospitals, this is a very noisy area full of sirens, alarms, and chatter. As I exited my building I heard the thud of the automatic door closing behind me and then the rhythm of the streets and people bustling about. Even living on the 30th floor, the sounds of NYC never seem to diffuse themselves. While the sounds of the ambulance that immediately passed me was dominating, there were many other sounds I’d have normally ignored. An elderly woman tried desperately to get a cab, a man argued on his phone behind me and a woman was picking out and negotiating with a fruit vendor. As I crossed the street, I could hear the clack of my own boots, the rustle of my coat, and even the jingle of coins and junk in my pockets – this excursion made me realize I really need to clean out my pockets. At the other side of the road I could hear a man asking a cart owner what a falafel is. It’s amazing how prominent the sounds of the cars against the road are – noises I usually filter out. A car honked at a traffic buildup. Of course, other cars proceeded to do the same and this created an awful cacophony. One car began honking in rapid succession and this spurred a collision of different, honks, toots, and blares. A bicycle passed me on the sidewalk, making a unique flicking sound. I heard the sound of a wheelchair along the pavement as an old man was being pushed, the sound of its wheels was much different than the bicycle. I stopped at an intersection and could hear muffled music from somebody else’s headphones. When I approached a corner I saw a pigeon land on a pile of grapes in a fruit stand, flap its wings and the vendor scream “Shoo!” Overall, it was an interesting and relaxing experiment to solely focus on the sounds of New York City – something I often try to ignore.

Define a Space

Well it's not the most glamorous video, but I tried!

The Freshest Ingredients from Cristiana L. on Vimeo.

Artist Statement

            Because my father is from Italy, I was lucky enough to travel there at a very young age. One of my most striking memories is when my parents took my brother and me to the Vatican. Although I felt frightened among its daunting corridors, one image in particular remains in my memory; the sculpture of a skeleton half shrouded in a blanket while reaching out an hour glass.  I still get chills thinking of it.

Below this haunting image, I recall reflecting on the vulnerability of life - even at the age of 6. It seemed to me that the skeleton was saying my time would run out too, and I find that to be an enduring concept and underlying element of how I process my life and experiences.  Transience, mortality, and impermanence are key to understanding what I’m attracted to in art. This concept of the present’s fleetingness is encompassed in that image of the skeleton – as if superimposed over what I see.

            Similarly, Van Gogh also seemed to have kind of hypnotic spell for me. For my mom, boasting that I could sing the entire length of Don Mclean's "Vincent" word-for-word at three years old was like a fun party trick. 

Every Wednesday in Elementary School was library day. During this time, we could choose one book to borrow. Rather than choose a different book every week, I repeatedly chose the same Vincent Van Gogh book over and over. Its unique imagery captures something incredible and continues to do so. It's a moment in time and energy - I like art that feels like more than aesthetic, but an experience (that goes for everything). While the sculpture at the Vatican represents the morbidity that re-occurs in my art, Van Gogh’s painting has a power and intensity I revere and am drawn to.