Today we're outside of Indy Reads bookstore in Indianapolis to meet with Jace Clayton, who's in town as an artist in residence with the organization, We Are City.

Jace is well-known for his work as DJ /rupture, but he now works at cross-disciplines to make music, create installations and events, and even design software.

He's performed all over the world and with many impressive people, focusing on how sound, memory, and technology collide in public spaces.

He's based in New York, but right now he's here.

So let's go see him.

Hello, I'm Jace Clayton, and this is my "Art Assignment."

♪ Actually, on my very first mixtape, gold "Gold Teeth Thief," put out in 2001, this there's one section where the beat stops and the rapper is saying something, and then he says, "Stop."

And I hold the record for a few seconds so the pause becomes uncomfortable, and then the beat returns.

And so that was sort of riffing off my name, is DJ /rupture, and I was kind of interested in thinking of, if people are going to be dancing, there are moments when people can stop dancing.

And especially in a DJ context, where it's always, like, the beat must go on, the beat must go on, like, there's something very-- in a way, it's like the one thing you can't do in a club is have silence.

[laughs] So it becomes this very radical gesture that throws people off, and there are all sorts of ways to use that.

Especially today, especially online, when so many things happen so quickly, and when people are often always on, there's a sense that there is no dead time, like, you should always be doing something.

And I think the quiet lets you take a step back from that and kind of put yourself in a different time frame, which is very important to think about what's happening in the present.

I was living in Barcelona for awhile, and I would just love walking-- I would walk everywhere.

But I would love walking along the quietest routes I could at night.

Somehow it just made everything see more special.

It's almost like looking through special glasses, and you can see these little details which you wouldn't otherwise.

So the assignment is to walk outside of your home and walk outside of wherever you live and continue walking until you find the quietest place in your neighborhood, in your zone-- the quietest place outside, in public space.

And then, once you get there, absorb it a little bit, and then maybe share a photo or share a brief video with where you are and what it looks like.

This assignment reminds me of when the electricity goes out in your house and you suddenly realize that there is this constant hum to modern life that's gone away.

Yeah, I love that moment.

Yeah.

With this piece, I'm really tempted to talk about silence in art, particularly John Cage's "4'33," don't you think?

Yeah, that was this piece where John Cage had a performer-- performers go onstage, make no sound for 4 minutes and 33 seconds, right?

That's the one.

It's talked about all the time in art.

And it's really great.

But I don't think it's the best point of comparison for this assignment.

So what are you going to go with?

I think we're going a little farther back in time and think about French poet Charles Baudelaire's idea of "the flaneur."

Oh, I know the flaneur because when you talk about poetry, I actually know what you're talking about.

(Sarah) When Paris was a newly industrialized and rebuilt city, Baudelaire imagined two types of people.

The flaneur was a kind of gentleman-dandy type figure who strolled about the busy streets with relative aimlessness, taking in the spectacle of the moment, at once a part of the city and aloof from it.

This idle spectator was in opposition to Baudelaire's idea of the thoroughly modern man, whom he described as such: "Away he goes, hurrying, ceaselessly journeying "across the great human desert.

"He had an aim loftier than that of a mere flaneur, "an aim more general, something other "than the fugitive pleasure of circumstance.

"He is looking for that quality which you must allow me to call modernity."

Baudelaire defined modernity as "the ephemeral, the fleeting, the contingent," and being modern required one to adopt a certain attitude, finding something eternal or meaningful within the present moment.

Jace's assignment asks you to be a kind of anti-flaneur, navigating your environment with the express goal of moving away from the stimuli of the city.

It is perhaps in this denial of spectatorship that we can begin to search for the meaning of modernity in our own time.

Usually when people move around, and especially go for walks, they're walking towards beautiful things like fantastic photo vistas or whatever.

I'm actually really interested in seeing sort of the boring side of quiet places, the way in which quiet places can be very, very mundane.

There's something really reassuring in all of that.

You know?

Maybe it's just an empty field, you know?

Maybe it's the lot of warehouses at night-- places like that.

It's this whole sort of different and non-spectacular view of things.

Doing this assignment at home, I think you instantly have an idea of where in your neighborhood is going to be the quietest.

Maybe you walk out into the woods or something.

And so, in a way, it's going to be-- Hopefully, it'll still put you on a path you wouldn't otherwise go on, but there's less surprises.

But if you're someplace you don't know, then it really is, you're walking around and literally being guided by your ears.

In my initial conception, it's alone, but it's not meant to be some sort of, like, monk-ish separation thing.

It's more about a walk guided by listening.

And so, in that case, as long as your companion doesn't talk too loud, then it'll be perfect.

So now we're going to try to find our quietest place.

We're in a really loud area next to a highway, but now we're going to take a walk guided by listening.

This is Mark, our director.

He's gonna help me out.

[footsteps] [airplane passes] [ribbons flapping] [birds sing] [bird singing] [birdsong continues] Okay, so this was the quietest place I could find.

Now I'm challenging Mark to find somewhere quieter.

[windchimes] [no sound] So that was Mark and my quietest place, and now we want you to find yours.

Before we go, Jace asked one of his friends to find his quietest place; we asked our friends as well.

So we wanted to share those with you.

Thanks again for watching "The Art Assignment."

And don't break the law.

Don't break the law.

I'm on vacation in Sedona.

I don't know where I am anymore, but there's that.

Well, it was quiet.

[helicopter buzzing] Now there's a helicopter.

So this week's "Art Assignment" was to walk to a quiet place, And in true Los Angeles fashion, I am driving because that's how hard it is to find a quiet place.

[distant plane buzzing] [people chattering] Like in many parts of L.A., there are little nooks and crannies of quiet and peace.

And we're going to take you into one of our favorite ones right now.

It looks like we're in someone's private space.

But we're actually not.

It's this whole little extension of Abbot Kinney, this like... amazing chocolate in a hat.

Yeah, this is...

It's not very quiet.

It's really loud on this street.

Too many buses.

Surprisingly, I think a party store is the quietest place that we can find within walking distance.

[distant talking] ♪ So the very first idea for an art assignment, which was half tongue-in-cheek and half not, was walk around your city until you're mugged.

Yeah, so don't do that... [laughs] without signing this waiver form.

♪