Monoliths and Dimensions

During Shellac’s excellent track ‘The End Of Radio’, about the nature of recording and broadcasting electronically amplified rock music, there’s a line (when performed live at least) that goes something like this: "This microphone converts sound into electricity/which travels down this wire/which travels up a hill/and is broadcast out into space/Into motherfucking space!... Distant alien civilization/can you he ar this snare drum?"

Experiencing one of Richard Serra’s massive steel sculptures in person can be revelatory. At first glance it can seem cold and imposing, its minimalism a stark contrast to the modern everyday life that skitters around it constantly, but once you investigate it much more closely, or in some cases, walk through the piece, the mood changes instantly. Our sense of space, time, and perspective are instantly altered: the monolith envelops instead of overwhelms, sound reverberates differently, you’re a few feet removed from the hustle-bustle outside yet you feel a thousand miles away from it all. Regarding his artwork, Serra has been quoted as saying, “It lives, it breathes, it implicates you in the space in ways that unless you understand the fact that it’s dense, solid, that it gives you a psychological sense that it’s happening, that you can’t get away from.”