It is a given that artists working within the field of new media practices embrace the gamut of technology available to them. Philip Jeck's intriguing sound installation certainly subscribes to this, as he uses video projection and a TV monitor. But these are in turn juxtaposed against rather more antiquated artefacts - namely, six outmoded record players.
The latter, arranged along the walls of the gallery, are set to periodically switch on and off, creating a bizarre cacophony where strains from Vaughan Williams' Fantasia on a Theme meld with Italian and German audio language guides. The badly scratched surfaces, coupled with playback set at 16 rpm, creates an unsettling, slowmotion drone which contrasts with the pastoral elegance of the orchestra. Meanwhile, the video projection and TV monitor run a sequence of amorphous, luridly coloured shapes not unlike the psychedelic bubble projections of a late 1960s Pink Floyd set. These remain quite abstract and obscure, but seem to suit the discordant soundtrack and the uneasy union between old and new technologies.
Reading meaning into the piece is a challenge. Certainly anyone who grew up in the pre-hi-fi age will bask in the nostalgia of the old record players themselves. In fact you may find yourself taking a trip down memory lane and imagine listening to your own scratched 45s or 78s. By extension, it would be tempting to envisage this installation evolving into a more interactive spectacle where the public is invited to select the discs. As is, Jeck's piece is quite austere - a museum piece which you tiptoe around, feeling suitability inquisitive.
Runs until May 31st. Philip Jeck and Janek Schaefer will perform at Triskel's auditorium tonight at 9.30 p.m.