Sound is a primary element in the photography of Christian Marclay (1955, San Rafael). An exhibition of approximately fifty of his works filled the entire fourth floor of the museum. An abandoned bell, the cover of a musical instrument awaiting the meager offerings of passersby, a phone receiver dangling at the end of its cord, a command—“Silenzio,” a string of tin cans tied to the rear 
of a car. All the photographs have one common thread: they are instant snapshots, all bringing into focus how extraor­dinary the ordinary can be. While Marclay’s images are silent, they are not mute. They bear the residue of sound, as well as its absence. Surrounded as we are by constant sound, silence has the power to make us aware of what we hear, and leads us to explore the strange harmony between sight and sound.