Tarek Atoui is a musician and artist who approaches the world as a vast, playable instrument. Sitting near London’s Tate Modern, he demonstrates this philosophy by drumming his fingers against a table, noting how the environment—from the hum of passing boats and aircraft to the ambient chatter of city life—creates a unique acoustic signature. For Atoui, sound acts as a sensory archive that defines a location just as effectively as its visual landscape, and his upcoming project seeks to make these sonic layers tangible. I can hear a busker on the riverside in front of Tate Modern and the hum of people walking the promenade. The low rumble of a plane flying over London and the wash of a boat under the bridge. Then he coaxes a tune out of it, he listens to the world around him.
The artist is set to debut his latest Hyundai Commission at the Tate Modern’s Turbine Hall, with the exhibition scheduled to run from 13 October until 11 April 2027. Despite the venue’s reputation for chaotic acoustics, echoing halls, and a constant stream of busy visitors, Atoui remains undeterred. He is not particularly worried about these unpredictable elements, viewing his installations as a platform for process rather than a quest for the perfect musical execution. His goal is to reshape the vast industrial space into a designated area for collective listening and engagement, marking another transition in his career from traditional concert halls toward more public, accessible environments. He can’t divulge details) would mark only “the latest stage” in the movement of his work away from conce, transforming this enormous hall into one of his trademark “places for listening and playing” (ahead of the opening.
Atoui’s artistic trajectory was shaped by a departure from the conventional music industry, which he felt constrained by the repetitive nature of album cycles and touring. Instead, he embraced a collaborative spirit influenced by the 1960s Fluxus movement, a global network of artists who drew inspiration from composer John Cage. This nomadic, experiential approach has taken him across the globe, where he works with individuals ranging from master Korean drum makers to Palestinian youth in refugee camps, for whom he developed software allowing them to create music using PlayStation joysticks. Stuck on the treadmill of “making albums and touring”, but this charming and inveterately curious figure “didn’t want to work in the music industry”.
His work often challenges conventional sensory boundaries, most notably during workshops held at the Amal School for the Deaf in Sharjah, UAE. By utilizing powerful bass speakers to project low frequencies, Atoui helped participants feel sound through their bodies, a process that fundamentally altered his own understanding of hearing. This experience underscored his broader interest in how different people perceive acoustic worlds, influenced by factors such as physical design, emotional states, and individual attention spans—much like how a high-pitched alarm might repel teenagers while remaining imperceptible to adults. Or the silent whistle that summons a dog, think about the “mosquito alarms” that deter teenagers from loitering by emitting an irritating whine beyond the range of adults.
Reflecting the research-heavy nature of his practice, the installation incorporates global sonic narratives. Similar to Turner Prize winner Lawrence Abu Hamdan, who utilizes audio evidence to uncover hidden histories, Atoui records ambient data from various marine environments. His projects document diverse sonic realities, ranging from the comparative tranquility of the waters surrounding the historical site of the Battle of Salamis in Greece to the chaotic, industrial atmosphere of Singapore’s marina, filled with ship noise and underwater activity. He views these sounds as a record of human history just as significant as visual imagery. His left hand waves a cigarette at the surrounding world.
When visitors enter the exhibition, they encounter instruments that function as sculptural pieces when dormant. During scheduled improvisation sessions, however, the environment pivots into an educational or performance space. Atoui insists that hearing is inextricably linked to our other senses, and he makes no effort to dictate or force a specific experience on the audience. Instead, he provides the necessary tools and space for exploration, hoping that the Turbine Hall becomes a realm where individuals can listen, play, and potentially find ways to enliven their everyday lives. He laughs when asked if his current conversation is part of that process, confirming that everything he encounters eventually informs his art. Littered with instruments seeming to have been built out of scavenged materials on the instructions of a dream: someone might be playing a tentacular wind organ; wires might snake across the floor from a bleeping synthesiser; a glass booth may function like a walk-in flute, whistling around your body, previous exhibitions have resembled recording studios in the midst of an especially far-out improvisation session.
