Transdisciplinary practice centering access through sound, language, and the poetics of translation. 


01 The Difference

02 nowisthe
03 Nevermind
04 FutureFluid

05 [Untitled] 6 Cylinders

06 I Hear You, But I Can’t Hear You
07 Transistors in Translation


My work is about our perception of place, as shaped by personal history, the built environment, and sound. Through installations and itinerant walks, I explore expanding time, breaking and remaking meaning, and cultivating ecstatic magic.

I express the confounding nature of my own deafness by transforming space to generate sensations in and around the body. Audible and inaudible tones are manifest as vibrations and translations for hearing and Deaf audiences via interactive sculptures, speaker + screen arrays, videos, and ambient loops.

In order to make the symbols in my work logically accessible, I often print patterned and coded visual companions for these sonic experiences. I am exploring the ways in which refusal of canonical psychogeography, and psychoacoustics might lead to an alt-horizon. I employ lo-fi mechanisms, such as A/V cassette recordings, radio frequencies, Xerox collages, stop-motion animations, and electronic synthesizers. These tactile materials illuminate the terrestrial and electromagnetic phenomena which our bodies sense but cannot readily name.

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H 0 M E  // C V
NELLY KATE 03 — SEP 2020


The world is very noisy. It’s very loud. It’s sonically harsh. I’m referring to the constant shush of interstates, the collective hum of air conditioners, the horn-blaring road-raging drivers, the din of a restaurant, the corona discharge on high-tension power lines, sirens, dogs barking, televisions cycling, trains clattering, and air brakes.  
Of course, its also very quiet. At times, stunningly euphonic. And at times, aurally euphoric. I’m thinking of swishing grasses on a Kansas prairie, the gurgling lap of tides on a jetty, evensong of woodland birds, and the echo of  subway buskers, whispered secrets, rain on a tin roof, thunder in the distance, and a choir of cicadas thrumming in the oaks. 

As these sonic experiences fade from my perception, I am increasingly confounded by mundane communication, and my desire to engage with the acoustic landscape wanes. Through this work, I continue to grapple with pluralism. My partial deafness suspends me in the interspace between  hearing & Deaf communities.