Inside Hamilton Poe’s warehouse studio in an industrial corridor on Detroit’s west side, periodic beeps—reminiscent of some far-off tracking device—reverberate throughout the building. As the artist welcomed me to his space, I saw the device issuing the sounds, which wasn’t tracking after all. It was dripping. A mound of dirty snow sat melting on a mesh structure above a plastic-wrapped speaker; whenever a drop hit the plastic, the construction emitted a beep. This object/situation wasn’t a finished artwork, but rather a studio response to the recent collapse of the warehouse’s snow-covered roof. Many works by Poe and his studio-mates were damaged. Using the materials at his fingertips, the artist built a response to that experience, fostering creation from the sometimes destructive events of everyday existence. This method appears throughout his practice, as in his work Stack, which brings together domestic box fans, mini sombreros, and eggs in an installation reminiscent of Donald Judd’s iconic wall-mounted sculptures.