Euphonious Raincoats v2. leafy

design residency, lottozero, apr - may 2024

v2. leafy, sonic diary

It has started to rain so I decide not to cycle to the concert. I grab the oxblood raincoat and walk to the bus stop five minutes away. I put up my hood. It crunches in my ear. The sharp pitter patter of the rain composes a staccato tone around me. As I reach the bus stop the rainfall gets heavier, so I take shelter under a nearby tree. I take down the crunchy hood and listen to the rain percuss on the canopy of leaves overhead. It's a soothing melody; a familiar melody, one that was mimicked on my coat on my short walk. A few stray raindrops fall on my sleeve from the leaves above. I observe how they are transported by osmosis through the cotton weave until it hits the wax somewhere below the surface. Dark blotches have started to form. Over a few minutes the dampness spreads laterally, the blotches connecting to join the dots. I am still dry inside.

I see the bus in the distance. I draw my hood up and emerge from under the canopy. The staccato of the sharp pitter patter has now crescendoed into chaos. The onslaught of the heavier rain clashes with the crunchiness of the fabric, composing a rather unpleasant dischord. Like a mound of freshly fallen autumn leaves the raincoat has gotten soggy; heavy and turgid. Unlike a damp mound of leaves it doesn’t start to decay under the weight. Rather the fabric stiffens to resemble a piece of cardboard. I don’t hear the bus pull up; it's arrival is drowned out by the clang on my hood. I board the warm dry bus. As I sit down on the seat the stiffened coat is suspended in the air, dragged down only by my armpits catching on the armhole seam. I feel and sound like the Tin Man, missing the oiliness of the other raincoats. This raincoat is aloof, when what I need on a cold damp evening is to melt into a warm embrace.

project background

In my PhD research the jarring sonic experience of plastic raincoats was frequently presented as a contributor to sensory distress by my autistic reserach participants: the squeak of the sweaty plastic, arms swinging side by side, the tap tap tap of rain bouncing off the hood, drowning out the surrounding soundscape of nature and all its nourishing sensory inputs.

During my one month design residency at Lottozero textile laboratories, supported by Culture Moves Europe, I explored alternatives to the sonic dissonance of petroleum based fibers used in rainwear. The goal of this design experiment was to craft sonic experiences that are more in harmony with nature as the body moves through the wet landscape, e.g. the sound of rustling leaves overhead, the soft crunch of damp ground underfoot. I developed several wax raincoats that each composed a different symphony as the wearer moves and the rain descends. 

Back in Norway, through the generous support of Trondheim kommune kunst og kultur, I worked with sound engineer Mona Hynne, from Øra Studio, to capture the composition of each iteration. Each recording follows a similar script: dressing in the coat as the rain begins to fall, the clash of the moving body and rain colliding, the dampening (materially and sonically) over extended use, and finally how the hood sharpens the rhythm of the rain and dims the outside world.