SOUND DESIGN // SUPERVISING SOUND MIX // MUSIC EDITING // ADR / VOICE RECORDING // STUDIO HIRE // SOUND DESIGN // SUPERVISING SOUND MIX // MUSIC EDITING // ADR / VOICE RECORDING // STUDIO HIRE // SOUND DESIGN // SUPERVISING SOUND MIX // MUSIC EDITING // ADR / VOICE RECORDING // STUDIO HIRE // SOUND DESIGN // SUPERVISING SOUND MIX // MUSIC EDITING // ADR / VOICE RECORDING // STUDIO HIRE // SOUND DESIGN // SUPERVISING SOUND MIX // MUSIC EDITING // ADR / VOICE RECORDING // STUDIO HIRE // SOUND DESIGN // SUPERVISING SOUND MIX // MUSIC EDITING // ADR / VOICE RECORDING // STUDIO HIRE // 
Feature length film, set over multiple synced screens in the gallery spaces.

We realised this complex and delicate sound treatment on a customised speaker set up rigged up to simulate the multi screen projection in the gallery. In practice, the films and their soundtracks migrate from screen to screen, sometimes overlapping, and sometimes interacting with each other. This spatial contrapuntal interplay involves the audience in the multi-dimensional telling of this exploded narrative feature film. 


Supervising Sound Designer and Mixer // Tom Haines

Assisant Sound Editor // Laura Selby


Directors // Brad Butler and Noorafshan Mirza

Music // HaZaVuZu, Turkey 

Additional Music // Tom Haines 


Galleries // Delfina London, and Home Manchester
In  the gallery, the lights are low, the room made darker by the burgundy  wallpaper. An interruptive, sometimes violent white-noise soundscape  hangs heavily. In lieu of gallery notes, the viewer is provided with  four noirish archetypes: Kaptan, the chief of police; Ağa, the  politician; Reis, a right-wing state assassin; and Yenge, the taken  woman. The film, loosely premised around a car crash in Turkey in 1996,  smudges true events with altered narratives and dreamlike sequences  (hallucinatory visions often haunt our protagonists). In the first two  chapters, our characters swerve through the night in a black Mercedes,  the men partaking in misogynistic banter. After her silence in the first  film, Yenge begins to interrupt the male dialogue in an internal  voice-over in the second. Her soliloquy about the “Resistant Dead,”  murdered by the state, and the violence enacted by her fellow  passengers, feels like evidence or oral testimony. There’s a sense of  history being authored, as well as its dissent. This chapter culminates  with the introduction of the “The Gossip,” named for a chorus of female  activists who, pursuing justice, devise a supernatural utopia where the  constraints of language and time do not apply. For Mirza and Butler’s  characters, the possibility of resistance is commensurate with the  imagination. Despite its framing of emancipation and transcendence  within a magical realist lens, the chapter suggests the potential for  our own world’s revitalization—for wounds to close, and become scars.