6 June 2025
The 1970s saw Giers transform technology into a sensory experience
As we look back on the pioneers of audiovisual innovation, we pause to honour Walter Giers (1937–2016), a German artist whose kinetic audiovisual constructions in the 1970s rewired the boundaries of art, sound, and technology. In an era when electronic music was finding its pulse and visual art was breaking free from the canvas, Giers stood at the crossroads, crafting machines that sang, flickered, and invited us to touch the future. As we reflect on the pioneers who shaped the audiovisual arts scene, a vibrant intersection celebrated from Berlin’s techno clubs to today’s immersive installations, Giers’ legacy shines as brightly as the LEDs in his sculptures.
Born in Swabia, Germany, Giers was a tinkerer, a dreamer, and a radical innovator. By the 1970s, he was already a trailblazer in electronic art, creating works that fused circuitry, light, and aleatory music into kinetic experiences that defied categorisation. His installations weren’t just objects; they were living systems; part sculpture, part performance, part experiment. Drawing inspiration from the chance-based compositions of John Cage and the kinetic art of Jean Tinguely, Giers transformed capacitors, relays, and loudspeakers into aesthetic protagonists, visible and audible in their raw, mechanical glory.
Take Weisser Vulkan (1979), a volcano-shaped acrylic sculpture pulsing with LEDs and random sound sequences, as seen in the 2017 documentary by Telekom Electronic Beats. Its unpredictable bursts of light and noise were a manifesto of controlled chaos, embodying Giers’ fascination with aleatory systems. Or consider Erotischer Zyklus (1975), a self-playing synthesizer that wove a narrative through randomized sound and light, inviting viewers into a sensory dialogue that felt both intimate and cosmic. Perhaps most revolutionary was Handbild/Hände (1971), where touch, skin to metal, altered the work’s sound and light output, making the audience a co-creator decades before interactivity became a buzzword.
Giers’ studio in Schwäbisch Gmünd was a laboratory of possibility, where resistors and wires became tools of poetry. His works, often built with transparent casings, revealed their inner workings, demystifying technology while enchanting viewers. “I want the viewer to see how it functions,” Giers once said, a ethos that prefigured the open-source spirit of today’s maker culture. His installations, like Musik für 3 Sender (1977), which orchestrated three radios into a symphony of chance, anticipated the glitch aesthetics and generative art that now dominate festivals like Ars Electronica and Sonar.
In the 1970s, as electronic music pioneers like Kraftwerk laid the groundwork for techno, Walter Giers was crafting a parallel revolution in visual art. His works were not mere accompaniments to sound but equal partners, embodying the synesthetic dream of merging senses. Clubs like Berghain owe a debt to artists like Giers, whose experiments made the dancefloor a canvas for light and sound. His influence echoes in the laser shows of Robert Henke, the immersive domes of modern festivals, and even the interactive installations that invite us to shape the art we experience.
As we celebrate Giers today, we’re reminded of his fearless curiosity, a reminder to artists and audiences alike to embrace the unknown, to tinker, to listen. The Konzept Zufall gallery in Gmünder Kunstverein, dedicated to his work, stands as a testament to his enduring impact. So, here’s to Walter Giers, the man who turned circuits into symphonies and light into language. His machines still hum in our collective imagination, urging us to plug in, tune in and create.
Discover the 12-minute Telekom Electronic Beats documentary below, delving into the life and groundbreaking work of Walter Giers.
