But Richard Bender's shout, ringing over communications circuits at Jet Propulsion Laboratory (JPL) in Pasadena, Calif., and triggering a
cacophony of whoops, cheers and applause, was no mere commemorative back-slapping for an achievement of a past decade.
Somewhere buried beneath the
cacophony of Anomia's avalanche of guitars and bass and its over-the-top distorted vocals is something oddly endearing.
At over 140 decibels, Eric's vocals lend a wailing human presence to a
cacophony of electronic looping and Bjorn's guitar feedback, while Hisham's percussion and Aaron's bass wind out thundering rhythms and delicate textures.
The competing
cacophony of pianos pounding out themes from Sleeping Beauty and La Bayadere and the stampings of black and red character shoes echoed in the wooden-columned hallway.
Amid the undulating greens and fairways, the building appears as a surreal
cacophony of colliding planes, angles and drums, like some strange, deconstructing sculpture.
One of the chief contributors to the underwater
cacophony is the oscillation of bubbles, especially in the top few yards of the ocean's surface.
Tester has the metal band swagger down, a sort of whiskey-tinged aggressive presence that really sells the rigidly contained
cacophony of wailing guitars, thunderous percussion and vocals that simultaneously soar and growl.
When one steps back from the objects and takes in the installation and sound track as a whole, the individual utterances get lost in what comes across as a jazzy
cacophony of undifferentiated ideas.
The symphonic metal fusion of hard-edged rock and beautiful, intricate classical music is nothing new, but Epica takes it to such a wonderful extreme, with its thunderous, bombastic melodrama punctuated by gorgeous, heart-melting moments, particularly when vocalist Simone Simons' voice erupts from the
cacophony, her beautiful mezzo-soprano a burst of light amid the gothic darkness of guitars and drums.
Barry McGee, Todd James, and Stephen Powers-aka Twist, Reas, and ESPO, respectively--have, variously, gone to art school, published books, won awards, and had museum shows, all of which does nothing to diminish their considerable "street cred." They have collaborated to produce "Street Market" (a larger version of "Indelible Market," exhibited at the ICA Philadelphia last summer) with the intent to annihilate the viewer by re-creating urban
cacophony in the gallery.
It's surprising how metal bands, amid the
cacophony and unrelenting force they create, manage to intersperse some moments of staggering beauty.
No map can account for every eccentricity of chemise, necklace, eyebrow, lip, and hair, and Sherman's photos playfully exploit this
cacophony of signs.
