The Wicked Plants exhibit transforms the west wing into an eerie overgrown Garden. As visitors pause to examine a plant or read a tale of woe, owls hoot, monsters retreat, gates creak and an old Victrola lures visitors onto an abandoned porch. Sound is one of the stealthy elements that completes the room's transformation. These haunting noises are the creations of Andrew Roth. Andrew is a Jungle Pass member, a Bay Area native, and a talented sound designer. His work for the Conservatory has appeared in the past two Garden Railway exhibits and the Wicked Plants exhibit, and a soundtrack of his captured bird calls from Costa Rica currently plays in the Lowlands Gallery.

Andrew Roth adjusting speakers during Wicked Plants installation

On a recent Friday afternoon, I had the opportunity to talk to Andrew after he finished a furious, frenzied day in the studio. I admitted to him that no matter how much time I spend in the exhibit, an owl catches me off guard, and I think an actual bird has perched in the gazebo. I also noted that I always notice a new sound. He was pleased. "It's an extensive program - the loop goes on for over an hour. For the Wicked Plants, because it's more ambient, you won't hear the exact same program twice throughout the day. There are 22 sounds loops playing at independent intervals."

In fact, there are over 20 speakers hidden in the room, and there is not just one owl to be surprised by, but three. By harboring so many sounds, the exhibit itself is reshaped. "The room is confined, and has so many hard surfaces. It's a real challenge to have many things happening at once, without a cacophony. I wanted to be able to make it feel like you're deeper in the exhibit by hearing certain sounds in certain places." Andrew thinks of the room in terms of zones. "You've got the desert corner, with the cactus. There are chimes over there to give an arid, empty feel. The other side of the room, literally feet away, is the swampy area. Here are sounds that make it feel like a wet place. And by the Victorian place, a little bit more gothic."

Any visitor who also experienced the holiday Garden Railway exhibit, senses how the wing feels completely different showcasing Wicked Plants. This feeling is not due just to the layout changes, the addition of the water features, or the missing, whirring motion of the trains and models; much of this is also a manipulation of the sound design. Andrew explains the different strategy behind the design. "The trains sound design is more like an aural circus; the sounds are more in your face, louder. Again, with the constraints of the room, there were two tiers of sounds. Some is localized, but at any given time there was one primary sound, usually a song, for instance the Castro Theater organ. Each sound was much like a carnival barker, vying for attention, versus Wicked Plants, which is much more ambient."

If you listen carefully during your visit, you can even hear Andrew's cameo appearance in his own soundscape. "You're sitting on a bench and you hear the Betel Nut being chewed and spit out, suddenly it sounds like someone chewing behind you..." That's him, chewing. Not all of the sounds are crafted specifically for this exhibit, but Andrew likens his trade to painting or cooking. "The better the ingredients, the better the results. I was restoring the parlor door hardware, and just making original sounds in front of the microphone," he explains the creaking noise in Wicked Plants. "It makes the designing, the creation so much easier."

I ask him about the length of the process, when he does create sounds 'from scratch' for the exhibit, and he tells me a tale about the monster under the grate. He notes props are due to horticulturalist Mario Vega, for the suggestion of placing speakers under the grate. "He suggested I put a monster under there. It was maybe even the day before we finished. I was thinking about a Star Wars scene, with slithering, muddy water moving around, so I had my wife, Davina, make an edible concoction, and recorded her running her fingers through it." Literally, crafting sounds from scratch. "Mario said do this, I went home, recorded sounds that night, mixed it and brought it in the next morning. Other sounds I recorded years ago. Ambience can take a few hours each." Note: no food was wasted in the creation of the exhibit; the recipe was eventually baked and fed to their chickens.

When I spoke with Andrew, he was working on deadlines for a number of clients presenting at an approaching trade show, and claimed he hadn't been outside in two days. This is a-typical from the staff interactions with Andrew during the exhibit installation, when we see him onsite first thing, and head out with him in the evening. Andrew explained another difference in his work at the Conservatory, versus studio production. "Working at the Conservatory, it's wonderful to see the interactions with people. I don't get to see the people watch or play the movies, games, television work. To see real peoples' reactions to and real-time interaction with the work is more immersed. I like everything I do, but that's what makes it more worthy." His work is not limited to studio production. When I asked where 'fans' can find more, Andrew revealed that his biggest passion are exhibit-based installations. "I did a theme park underwater science adventure for kids in Florida; I've done some ambient sound stuff at Disneyland, as well. That park was always as fascinating to me as anything else - as you approach Space Mountain there are 5 or 6 zones, or the Indiana Jones line at Disneyland, goes on and on, with the tunnels and rumbling, plus the attraction." Andrew laments he has never been to the Harry Potter theme park, but imagines the sound design there is incredible.

I was curious to know if amusement parks are what lead him into the sound business, and he responded that he'd been interested from an early age. His inspirations were actually filtered down through his family; his grandfather founded the Antenna Theater in the 1980s. "I liked old radio shows, because you could sit in the dark and this whole world came to you. Like books, sound lets your imagination really conjure up part of the world." He confesses he crafted audio tours of his house as a little kid. "Visitors would have to listen." He notes that people seem to know more about sound now, and are aware of surround sound, and the experience of movie theaters. "People are conscious of the industry, but still respond to sound in a different way. It gives you an opportunity to direct people without their knowledge. A lot like a bass player, you're holding it together, but not obviously. You're the Wizard of Oz!" Now that sounds wicked. Andrew admits that gore is entrenched in his current work. Beginning with Wicked Plants, he noticed a trend of zombies, ghosts and other evil. "It goes in cycles," he notes. "I don't always work with horror."

Article and photos by Morgan Davis; Porch photo by Eric Shapiro