In Unison  

Water, steam, copper, steel channel, boilers.

Sings three times daily at 12 o'clock, 3 o'clock and 5 o'clock

Glue Factory, Glasgow, UK



Maria Gondek's In Unison sings three times daily. It's haunting tune conducts an imaginary workforce in  a long-since decommissioned glue factory. Wistful whistle wishes to let you know that its time for work, time for tea, time to go home.

You are at the GSA 2018 MFA Degree Show. The damp cold of the venue has already begun to seep into your bones, its must and moisture filling your nostrils, its spores latching quietly into your  flesh. Light is poured and trapped in the chamber where Gondek's chandelier of copper piping, pipes. Turns and shoots of metal reach upwards irregularly , each shoot a whistle. It begins to shake and boil and steam. It sweats onto cold concrete. The sweat leaves a stain on a stain that is reshaped and added to each time the whistle chorus plays, endless final touches to the work of the factory floor. 

The copper chandelier ages with the building, speeding up the process with its daily steaming. The two are tarnishing simultaneously, as if they share the same history. Rather than a discreet installation, the pipes appear as a surprising extension of the already existing piped infrastructure that adorns the Glue Factory. When they sing, they momentarily divert the historical narrative of the building into a batty fantastical time period. 

...Gondek's chandelier is not anthromorphic but it has a kind of life that it wishes, urgently, to narrate. Its message is ambiguous, playful, tragic; the insistence of its refrain imploring for an end other than it's dismantling after the show. The latter, you feel, it knows is inevitable.  

Exerpts from Chlöe Reid text for Beacon's Publication by Rebecca Halliwell Sutton 2018.