Our group show in the Russell's space turned out to be a great opportunity for all of us to work together on installing a show of diverse work, with considerable time constraints and in a somewhat strange space (not a "white cube," by any means). I helped a number of people install all kinds of work over the two days of pulling it together, and learned a lot. 

As for my own work, I had been working at Russell's for months before the show, so it gave me a unique opportunity to display a cut-paper piece I had made there which when taken down from the wall had never gone back up correctly (oops!). I hung the piece as it is now (kind of an intricate net -- very interesting in its own right, if I do say so) on the wall where it was made, next to the ghostly lines of its cutting. I thought it was an excellent and meaningful site-specific installation, and I can't imagine where else I would ever have been able to show the piece.

The main piece I included in the show, though, was 276, a participatory sound piece with headphones that asked the audience to sit and wait in silence for a period of time equal to the length of the sound (about 7 minutes). As it happened, I forgot to turn the sound on during our critique, which resulted in Geraint and Midori sitting in silence for a good 10 minutes, waiting for the sound to start, which raised a whole set of interesting questions about controlling the audience, the potential patience of an audience, and the need (or lack thereof) for sound in a sound piece. The Russell's space was a good fit for this piece, being sunny at the time, and sort of industrial in feel. I situated the piece so that the listeners' focus would be primarily on a narrow wall between the two windows of the outer room; their eyes could wander to a view of the roof of the building outside. This complemented the sound of 276, which was recorded in summer and includes a thunderstorm and the sounds of a train and people singing (indoors and outdoors, industrial and natural).