Circuit des Yeux
This is how grief becomes a landscape. Before the pandemic cast its weather of mourning on the world, and before she began weaving together her sixth album as Circuit des Yeux, -io, Haley Fohr found herself grieving a close friend. For a time, the loss severed her from her art. A singular, celebrated figure in the Chicago experimental music scene, known for her arresting voice and the transportive moods she grows around it, Fohr had kept a steady creative practice since she first began recording her own music as a teenager. Grief ruptured that foundation. Fohr could not write for months, the longest fallow period she'd crossed since she experienced her first episode of major depression at 17. In the winter just before the pandemic took hold in the United States, Fohr was scheduled to complete an artist's residency at Robert Rauschenberg's house in Florida. She wanted to finish a roster of new material before leaving, but the music would not budge. Stalled, she turned to the organ, away from her guitar, and started tracing shards of sound, grasping melodies that began, slowly, to lead somewhere. It was not what she had hoped to bring south, but it was a start.