Opening Saturday, September 10th, from 6PM - 9PM
On view through Saturday, October 8th
This summer the sounds of the cicadas have been deafening. Much louder than previous years. Are there more of them? Hard to tell. No matter how closely I’ve looked I’ve not been able to spot even one of them. Their camouflage keeps them hidden and their song seems to come from everywhere. Sometimes it’s like an echo from far away. Other times, it’s like I have a beetle on each shoulder clicking at their full 120 dB capacity. If I don’t push them off the hearing loss will be permanent. Their tone feels like a distress call more than a mating song, an insistent warning. This is a mature chorus. They are no longer nymphs living underground sucking sap from cedar roots in borrows coated with their anal fluids. They know a world outside of innocent darkness. Their exuviae are attached to nondescript branches as long-forgotten vacant shells. There is need for protection and value to be lost. There is reason for alarm.
CARCASS: Nothing is Ending, Nothing can Change (a slight return) by Academy Records shares a common call.