Social Listening

I am not a disciplined listener; I do not have an especially profound relation to music. The moment when I tap “Play” is, more often than not, the last time I think about what I’m hearing until I unplug my headphones. Music is a means to an end, an auditory backdrop to focused work. The artist Devon Turnbull (who was born in 1979 and goes by OJAS, his “creative pen name”) likely didn’t have my ilk in mind as he was preparing HiFi Dream Listening Room No. 1, an immersive environment in Chelsea’s Lisson Gallery he installed as part of a now-concluded group show of sculpture, The odds are good, the goods are odd. Turnbull transformed a small, skylit white cube in the back of the gallery into a carpeted, sonic shrine. (As in a Buddhist temple, you left your shoes at the door—in this case, a felt curtain.) Kitted out with bespoke loudspeakers and a wood-encased turntable with the object quality of a Danish furniture piece, Turnbull’s Listening Room played vintage jazz records. A row of sling-back chairs along the back wall invited you to stay awhile, close your eyes, do nothing. Except listen.