Metropolitan Symphony is an interactive sound sculpture that reimagines the ambient noise and everyday soundscape of the city as a living, breathing symphony. Conceived by a London-based Japanese sound artist Yuri Suzuki, renowned for exploring the dynamics of human interaction through sound, the work responds intimately to the environment and cultural fabric of Bangkok and One Bangkok. Drawing inspiration from the historic Saladaeng Radio Telegraph Station, the birthplace of Thailand’s wireless communication, Suzuki weaves this legacy into the conceptual and technical foundations of the piece.

At the core of the sculpture is an intricate system of high-resolution microphones that capture sounds from both the surrounding environment and those who engage with the work. These inputs are processed in real time through a bespoke algorithm developed by the artist, transforming the raw urban soundscape into evolving sonic compositions. The result is a layered dialogue between the city and people, an ever-shifting melody shaped by shared presence and participation.

The installation comprises two sculptures: Metropolitan Symphony #1, currently located in the reception hall of One Bangkok Tower 3, is set to be relocated to the original site of the Saladaeng Radio Telegraph Station within the Post 1928 zone; and Metropolitan Symphony #2, housed at The Wireless House One Bangkok, a conservation project dedicated to the legacy of the original station. Designed to operate in tandem, the two sculptures are capable of exchanging sound, establishing a form of acoustic correspondence across the site.

We spoke with Suzuki to uncover the creative process and inspiration behind this immersive installation; one that calls on all who encounter it to compose their own melodies from the rhythms of this great metropolis.

To begin with, how would you define ‘art’ in your own terms?
For me, communication lies at the heart of art. My work often uses sound as a means to connect with people, because I believe sound is one of the most powerful forms of communication. It’s closely linked to the brain, much like scent, and even more so than sight or haptic. I’ve always seen sound as a potent medium of expression, which is why I consistently place sonic experience at the center of my artistic practice.

The sculptural forms you create often feature speaker-like shapes. What inspired this particular design language?
It really comes down to function. The shape of this work, for instance, was determined by its intended use. The conical structure helps both to amplify and collect sound effectively, enhancing the overall listening experience. Another reason I return to this form is that it provides a kind of visual cue for sound. It communicates the presence of audio intuitively, without the need for explanation. Many of my works are installed in public, open-air spaces where explanatory text isn’t always present. So it’s important that viewers can immediately recognize where the sound is coming from. That’s why this shape has become a recurring element in my work.

Let’s talk about your latest work. What inspired Metropolitan Symphony #1 and Metropolitan Symphony #2?
The title actually comes from a song by a Japanese band called Pizzicato Five. They have a track named Metropolitan Symphony. It’s a beautiful name that really resonated with me.

When I first began working on this project, I was struck by the concept behind One Bangkok. It felt like the creation of a new kind of urban community right in the heart of the city. I saw a natural alignment between that idea and what I wanted this work to express. The piece is about human voices; how we speak, how we generate sound, and the ambient noises that surround us. Together, they form a kind of harmony. That’s the connection that led me to name the project Metropolitan Symphony.

How did the history of the Saladaeng Radio Telegraph Station, the first of its kind in Thailand and formerly located on the One Bangkok site, influence this work?
I’m always interested in sound and culture, and in how both can be used to connect people and their stories. Designing a public sculpture to be placed on the grounds where Thailand’s long-distance communication technology first began felt especially meaningful. That history became a vital part of the concept, leading to the creation of two sound sculptures. You can sense the influence in the way the two pieces communicate with each other. One is located in front of The Wireless House One Bangkok, and the other in the reception hall of One Bangkok Tower 3, which will eventually be relocated to the historical site of the original radio station. 

Is Metropolitan Symphony your first work that allows for real-time signal transmission between two sculptures?
I’ve created pieces in the past that could communicate across short distances, around five or six meters. But Metropolitan Symphony goes further. It incorporates a more advanced electronic system, enabling signal transmission over a much greater range. It’s the farthest I’ve ever taken this kind of interaction.

Could you walk us through how the signal transmission and sound transformation work?
The audience’s voice is first converted into an electronic signal using a technique called a vocoder. This technology was originally developed during World War II to securely transmit voice signals over long distances. In this work, the signal is then processed through an algorithm that gathers elements from the city—its music, its ambient sounds, its environment. It transforms the input into a melody. The sculpture never produces the same sound twice. Every interaction generates a new composition. Each time someone engages with the piece, a new auditory experience unfolds; one that didn’t exist before.

To better understand the technical aspects behind Metropolitan Symphony, we spoke with Kevin Liu, Director of MakerNet, the team responsible for fabricating and installing the sculpture. Liu has collaborated closely with Yuri Suzuki on several projects and was instrumental in bringing this one to life.

Kevin: We used highly sensitive microphones to capture and record sound, which is then processed through an algorithm designed from the artist’s perspective. This program transforms human voices into musical notes by blending them with audio samples from a custom-built sound library. Since this installation was created specifically for One Bangkok, Suzuki-san was deeply committed to understanding the city’s sonic context. We explored a wide range of techniques for recording Bangkok’s soundscape with the database and ultimately compiled 180 distinct audio samples.

Suzuki-san personally adjusted and refined each of these recordings based on his artistic vision, considering how the sculpture could best connect with its local surroundings. One of our goals while in Bangkok was to continue expanding this library. We actively went out to collect more sounds with the aim of evolving the software. It’s currently running on version 7, and we intend to keep updating it as our experience of the city deepens.

Much of your work—including Metropolitan Symphony—falls within the realm of public art. What is your personal view on public art?
Public art, to me, should truly belong to the public—it should be part of the community and shaped by the people who are interact with the space each day. I don’t believe that a bronze sculpture that looks like ‘sculpture’ is enough in terms of its function as a piece of public art. For public art to be meaningful for a community, it needs to serve a function. It should be used, and used continuously.

This work felt like a natural fit for One Bangkok, a space that is both a destination and a growing community. I wanted the piece to spark joyful, energetic activity, to be alive in the space, and have its own functions. As I sit here now, it almost feels as though this sound sculpture is a form of public furniture. For me, public art is defined by its versatility and the many ways it can be used.

Your work goes beyond traditional sculpture—it draws people in and invites participation. What was your intention with this piece?
With this work, I wanted to create something that people would find playful and engaging. That’s a core function of public art—it should become part of the community and its cultural rhythm. That, to me, is far more valuable than creating something that feels intimidating or untouchable. Too often, sculpture can appear overly precious or exclusive, discouraging interaction. But this work is open, inclusive, and encourages participation. I see it as something truly meant for everyone.