My connection to The Tank started back in the 1990’s when I first met Bruce Odland. I was curating music at The Kitchen then and we presented his Cloud Chamber project with Sam Auinger. Bruce’s creative work has always been extremely compelling, and I was very intrigued when I heard about his development of The Tank during its early stages.

Other musicians and media reporting brought The Tank more to my attention, and in 2023 when I was planning a tour of the western US, I contacted Bruce about a possible performance. I was thrilled to be invited to perform on the Solstice Festival in June. The Tank was my last stop after a month spent traveling, performing, and finishing my book Diffusing Music. I was particularly drawn to play at The Tank because of my involvement with ambient music, both through my own work and as leader of La Monte Young’s Theater of Eternal Music Brass Ensemble. In recent years many of these performances were presented in churches or other highly reverberant spaces, so I was very excited to have the chance to bring my music to The Tank.

Beyond exploring the interior acoustics, I was equally fascinated by the idea of the outdoor presentation through spatially separated speakers. I had previously developed a wireless sound system that distributed the live-sampled sounds of my Mutantrumpet around a lake for ambient performances. The Tank’s blend of interior and exterior listening paralleled my interest in outdoor and indoor sonic environments, a theme also central to my opera Fantini Futuro.

When I arrived in Rangely and first set foot in The Tank I begin playing acoustically, before I had set up my electronic system. What I immediately realized was that The Tank is not just a space, it’s more like a giant instrument. As I played, I was struck by how the sound seemed to spiral upward, as if the notes were ascending into infinity. I found myself listening and reacting to what The Tank was giving back in ways that I never had before. Once the electronics were added the interactivity with The Tank became even more pronounced, and I continued to hear things generated by my playing that I had never experienced previously. Stepping outside and hearing the sounds being played over the expansive landscape was equally exhilarating for me, particularly with my recent interest in the relationship of indoor and outdoor sonic spaces.

The performance was unlike anything I’ve experienced in my long career; transcendent, mystical, and profoundly moving. The upward movement of the sound created a kind of anti-gravity sensation, like floating upward on the powerful resonances that were materializing inside of the space. The dynamic sensitivity was astonishing, even the quietest sounds produced complex responses. During the performance there was a strong wind blowing outside, which emphasized The Tank’s connection to wild nature and added another powerful sonic element.

The next day it was great to have the chance to meet some other musicians and community members. The openness of the exchange felt very aligned with the inclusive, expansive nature of the experience I had the night before.

My experience with remote recording at The Tank is much more limited. I had a session in early 2025 in which I recorded my Mutantrumpet and live sampling through Sonobus. Everything worked well technically, but in the virtual situation it was more difficult for me to adjust to the The Tank’s remarkable acoustics due to my own monitoring setup. The session turned out to be more of an experiment, and I plan to do another recording sometime soon in which I focus more on listening to The Tank as an active collaborator.

The Tank is a space that compels us to listen in ways that we never have before. It sensitizes us to sonic phenomena and experiences in a way that lingers long after we leave its physical presence. I greatly look forward to having a chance of returning soon, either physically or virtually.