Ione Marshartist · shore & shortwave the sea below is
computed, not filmed

Salt &
Signal

Channel one

The Tide Table

Selected works, indexed like a harbour almanac.

 Channel two

The Tide Pool

Her world — waded through sideways, at low tide.
Channel one

The Tide Table

№WorkMediumYearTide
01Driftnet (for voices) salt-crusted net, hydrophone loop2026 +1.9m rising 02Ledger of Swells wave data, hand-ruled ink2025 +1.2m rising 03Static at Sea detuned radio, brine cell2025 +0.4m slack 04Brackish Choir eight estuary recordings2024 −0.3m ebbing 05Low Tide Radio performance, one hour, daily2024 −1.1m ebbing 06Signal Buoy (unanswered) buoy, beacon, patience2023 −1.8m low
Channel two

The Tide Pool

Every artist keeps a rock pool somewhere — the small world where the big one gets rehearsed. Keep scrolling; the pool moves sideways, the way water actually thinks.

low tide · walk east

rock lip · ankle deep

The pool keeps what the sea forgets.

Twice a day the ocean leaves, and twice a day it forgets something — a whelk, a rope end, one image. I collect the forgettings. This is where they live between tides.

Specimen I — kelp-green study kept in the pool
specimen i · kelp light

mid pool · knee deep

Anemones are the patient audience.

They watch everything I sink here and applaud at whatever frequency the current suggests. Tough crowd, fair critics. The kelp votes by leaning.

Specimen II — blue slate study, submerged
specimen ii · slate hour

the deep end · waist deep

Signal reaches here twice a day.

At the flood, the radio in the studio and the water in the pool hold hands for twenty minutes. Whatever plays gets salted and kept. The archive tastes of iodine.

Specimen III — coral static study
specimen iii · coral static

east rim · the way out

The tide is due back.

It always returns for its forgettings, and it never takes them. That may be the whole reason I am an artist. Climb out before your pockets fill — the signal section is dry land.

The sea is analog. The reply is not.

Ione sends one transmission a month: a work in progress, a tide reading, and whatever the pool refused to give back. Shortwave romantics and gallery people equally welcome.

Tune in