Transplant

24-channel installation with photographer Tim Wainwright

The Nunnery Gallery, London, Sept 2008
Beldam Gallery, Brunel University, Dec 2008 - Mar 2009

John Wynne

Vanishing into illness and transformation (either through transplant or death, or a vanishing into the medical environment) is a central issue of the work: the sound work, the voices, the photographs. The disorientating impression of envelopment in a confused web of sound is very strong, but this is repeatedly pulled back to specifics by recordings of the patients themselves. Feelings of fragility are pervasive and clearly audible in these bedside recordings: every tremor and lapse; the halting and wheezing of breath; the breaks in which speech is overwhelmed by tears; the pain of what is said; the grain of how it is said.

Through all the differences and similarities of sound and vision, seeing and hearing, looking and listening, a rapprochement emerges in the collaboration between Wainwright and Wynne. Meaning arises out of fades and overlaps, sudden appearances and vanishings, fusing and disparity. Distinctions of the senses are less important than their indivisibility. Are we seeing or hearing, and how much of either perception is a consequence of the other?

David Toop
From Depths and clamour; inside and outside




The presence of mortality frames the fractured narrative of Wynne's 24-channel mix of candid monologues and ambient noise. He amplifies the the rhythms of the ward, almost as invasive as the surgery, and hints that the hallucinations which often accompany intensive treatment are as much the result of information overload as of drugs. That most powerful of stimulants, hope, arises from the cacophony as a muffled sob. In this unit, you might overdose on expectation.

Ed Baxter
The Guardian (read the full review)

At first sight, itís three rooms of large format portrait photographs Ė no cables or speakers anywhere in view. But there is sound everywhere: as shifting audio environment of high-tech hospital machinery, the ominous panting of a pump. Then suddenly a picture speaks to you. This is a cool, spacious show. It’s as if the artists’ very lack of agenda has opened up a space in which the viewer can hear the patientsí voices and think calmly.

Clive Bell
The Wire Magazine (read the full review)