Like so much in this year's show, Shannon Collis' work is as audible as it is visual. In fact, her intent is to "make audible the visual qualities of hand generated" lines and images, so that they emit an eerie violinlike sound as the hand drawn images are pulled up the wall in a loop that resembles a swirling microfiche if it were captured by Robert Motherwell—or perhaps the X-ray machine of a demented doctor who decided to use science for beauty. Several of these machines line the walls on either side of Collis' gallery and, as you stand there, it is the disjunction between the images—black squiggles on transparency rising in lit-up lines like backward waterfalls—and the noise, which almost resembles the simple whirring of the machinery, but, ultimately, amounts to more than that, that seduces you. The sounds are created when the black lines on the transparencies block the light picked up by LED sensors—or something. It is hard to say whether this is musical composition (Iannis Xenakis is an influence), art, or science. But it is easy to say it is supremely cool.