Sara Retallick’s ‘Saturate’, for RISING 2025, is not for me. While I admire the concept of being underwater and letting sound move through you like you are one with the universe, the execution seemed flawed.

The idea behind ‘Saturate’ is that it’s an art installation designed to turn ‘your body into a conduit for raw sonic reception’ and ‘encounter an intimate connection to sound.’ Hosted by Melbourne City Baths, there are special speakers installed in the water that blast sounds designed for you to ‘access the unique tactility of underwater listening.’ I had the opportunity to attend the 10pm session when the centre was empty and quiet.

At 10pm precisely we were ushered into the Bath’s gender-neutral bathroom, freed from the freezing cold. I had squeezed into my trunks at home, and so had the pleasure of spending the rest of the waiting time averting my eyes while others, mostly people who appeared above the age of thirty, chat and undressed. An usher gently interrupted the half-naked niceties to explain how the evening would unfold. We would depart the bathroom, grab a pool noodle from the basket, and then dive straight in. The cry of the instruments a cue to duck our ears in the water and float along the vibrations of the music. Groovy.

A spotlight in each corner of the room painted the place a pale blue hue. Melbourne City Baths is an old institution, the kind associated with old people who fart dust and remember the days when opium was commercially available. Behind the elegant brick facade lies a single pool, unbroken by chains of lane dividers. One thing to say about the place is that it’s elegant, reeking of class and champagne, carrying its history in every brick. A massive skylight loomed above us, though the only light that was seeping through was that from the construction site next door. The air crackled with electronic screeching, which was the cue for all present to submerge their ears into the water. It went on for a while, leaving us to gently float around the pool like leaves in a stream. Eventually the pitched noise subsided, giving rise to a plucking of the strings belonging to an aluminium banjo. After a few minutes of that came the warm strummings of a guitar, which probably lasted for a few minutes but felt longer. The night finally concluded with a couple of horns blasting through the speakers and into our bodies, sending shivers down the spine and through the entire nervous system. The session lasted for about forty minutes in total. I believe Retallick was saving the best for last, with the guitars and horns a heavy finale as compared to the relatively underwhelming first half of the performance.

Ultimately, the concept is sound (pun intended). Sound waves travel faster in water than air, because of the smaller distances between water molecules, rendering clearer auditory results. The speakers created a sonic experience unlike any other. I enjoyed the strumming of the guitars and the way horns managed to shake me that they never could in air. Another thing that I liked about being underwater is that the music would be experienced deliberately. Music has changed since the dawn of streaming platforms like Spotify. Music, for most, becomes passive consumption that can be paired with boring activities, such as taking the bus or studying for an exam. Isolating the body in water to float makes me think of a world not populated by unending visual stimuli. It’s a chance to be deliberate, let the music flow through you, follow the whims of the universe and what have you. It turns music into an active engagement, one that older generations are probably familiar with but many digital natives might find a stranger. It’s a chance for people to be reminded of a past where multitasking was for people off their ADHD meds and not every slouch-necked youth with attention spans smaller than a fingernail clipping.

Part of the reason ‘Saturate’ was not for me is the fact that I have to tack on my inability to float onto my ever-increasing list of flaws. A pool noodle is provided, but the struggle to stay afloat is one that haunted me throughout the entire session. I was tossing and turning on the water, moving the pool noodle everywhere, from under my neck to under my ankles. Eventually, I landed on placing the pool noodle on the underside of my knees, spreading out my arms like Christ on the cross, except without the cross or the toned abs. I failed to recognise how other individuals fared: due to my own difficulty and my inability to see anything a foot away from my nose without my glasses. I can only assume they weren’t so thrilled to have me thrashing and flailing around like a victim of a shark accident, especially whenever we collided.

The only problems, as far as I can see, are the practical implications. There were about twenty people involved in the session that I was in, all armed with pool noodles as they drifted around the water. When the pool is packed, it’s impossible not to collide. Creating an undisturbed sonic experience for the individual becomes very difficult when all you have in mind is trying to avoid bumping into someone else. ‘Saturate’ is less a private, intimate installation designed to turn your body into an instrument for new auditory experiences and more an awkward pool party with fancy stereo systems and less chit chat. Not to say that the techniques weren’t fascinating or ineffective, but simply that it’s an idea that requires fewer people, a bigger pool, or different floatation devices.

All in all, it wasn’t a terrible experience. But attend only if you can float.

Photography credit: Damien Laing