`I´m looking at the human-sized metal rods ranked before me like sonic soldiers in Harry Bertoia’s Sonambient barn in Bally, Pennsylvania, on a cold afternoon in January. I tentatively approach the sculpture that sounded the most comforting in the performance cum demonstration Val had just given me. With gloved hands I gently nudge one of a spray of bells atop the rod, causing it to swing towards the others without hitting them. To get a result, I more firmly cluster some rods together with both hands. As I slowly release them each bangs into its neighbours, creating a wholly unpredictable series of lovely chimes that linger for minutes after they were struck.´