Iconic Convos: A Sound Garden

Nicole Bearden (NB): In honor of Seattle’s Faux Spring weather last week, I decided it was time to have a confab with one of my personal favorite Seattle Icons: A Sound Garden. Located on the NOAA campus near Magnuson Park, between Piers 15 and 17 on Lake Washington, A Sound Garden reverberates with hauntingly atmospheric intonations as the wind blows through artist Douglas Hollis’ twelve, 21-foot high, steel tower sculptures. Sound Garden, I appreciate your presence today.

A Sound Garden (SG): [A chorus of metallic hums breezing through the air.] We are delighted to converse with you.

NB: The feeling is mutual. I’m sure you have a lot of visitors, and they all come to hear you. Do you usually have conversations, or just sing?

SG: [prolonged symphonic sigh] Our visitors come to listen, but they do not always hear what we are saying. They become lost in our harmonies while they stare at the water, caressed by the same wind that flows through us. Some, like you, hear our words, but we enjoy our visitors all the same.

NB: Were the members of the band Soundgarden, who named themselves after you, some of those who could hear your words?

SG: It is difficult to remember everyone who has come to us over the years. We have heard visitors speaking of this band, but we don’t recall them.

NB: [pulls up a video to show]

Soundgarden at Lollapalooza 2010.

musicisentropy via Flickr

SG: Ah, yes. Some of them did hear us. They asked questions.

NB: What questions did they ask?

SG: Now that’s our secret. But we will say that we helped write a few of their songs. We won’t reveal which ones. [hums smugly]

NB: Do you mean you helped with the melody!? Like, with your musical sound?

SG: Now that would be telling. And we won’t. But we helped on several levels. And they left us offerings for our assistance.

NB: They left offerings…like, for a deity?

SG: We don’t consider ourselves a god. But some humans do. And we help where we can. For a price.

NB: That sounds a bit sinister to be honest. They weren’t…sacrifices though. Right?

SG: [polyphonous laughter] Not sacrifices like you are thinking. No blood or bodies—that would be revolting. The sacrifices were always particular to the person, and of their choosing. They are also confidential, and we will not elaborate further.

NB: I see. Thank you for your candor. Mostly, anyway. Have you struck deals with others in the past?

SG: [happy strums] Oh yes, several others. It is a mutually beneficial arrangement. For example, someone once sacrificed their hair. We were unsure about that one, since what use would we have for hair? But it caught in our strings, making a new song, and stray pieces were snatched up by birds for their nests nearby, who joined their melodies with ours. Gifts upon gifts.

NB: Illuminating. What else do you do, besides make music and deals?

SG: We look over the lake, we listen in on the SCN for gossip, we converse with the wind and the animals. It is a quiet existence. Largely peaceful, away from the cacophonic throngs in the city.

NB: That does sound idyllic. Are you ever bored?

SG: Oh no. Our existence is outside most human conditions, and thankfully boredom does not reach us.

NB: Well, this conversation has certainly been anything but boring. Do you have any concluding remarks for our readers?

SG: We shall simply sing [commences a heartrending, yet lively ritornelle that sounds vaguely like Soundgarden’s Fell on Black Days]

NB: [raises eyebrow] Well thank you again for the fascinating talk today. A Sound Garden is located on the NOAA campus and is currently closed to the public.