Copper wires winding across the gallery floor draw a map of the river, wrap around stones I collected from it, and set the viewer’s route. The same stones, photographed at a common scale, are arranged side by side in a grid; the coming together of stones of different kinds and colors is what makes up the river itself. Three panels showing the river’s emergence from its source lift the gaze from water to landscape and from there to the sky.
The sound that fills the space comes from these stones as well: stones carried by the current knock against one another, yet the water itself is never heard. The viewer hears not the water, but what the water does to the stones. This is also where the title comes from; the installation looks beneath the fresh water while leaving the water itself outside.