Research Catalogue

This exposition or archive is a work in progress, under construction, for gathering material of encounters with junipers.

At this time of exception, in these extra-ordinary times there seems to be no limit to the limit: Once an extreme, excessive and acute experience, the limit has become an all-inclusive, continuous condition that coincides with a lack of language and other forms of expression and connection. Aiming to collaboratively inhabit and investigate this border experience, the objective of this project is to create contemporary vocabularies and related contextualizations of/for/at the limit. In order to do so, the project’s design for 36 months will develop 3 arts-based research programs exploring 3 select limit-experiences: The Unknown, The Beyond, The Abyss. Each of the interrelated programs includes a score of 5 formats: banquet, symposium, exhibition, podcast and performance collaborations with Saint Genet, Tianzhuo Chen and Marina Abramović.

Focaris parte de la conexión entre el fuego y el hogar como espacios de encuentro, protección y transformación. La obra se desarrolla a través de un diálogo entre la expresión individual y el encuentro colectivo, representado por la reunión en torno a una mesa o una hoguera. Cada bailarín expresa su "fuego interno" en solos apoyados por el grupo, generando conexiones y contrastes a través de la coreografía. La narrativa de la obra está construida bajo la estructura del teatro griego, donde el coro acompaña, enfatiza y dialoga con las acciones individuales. La accesibilidad está integrada en la dramaturgia, transformando la LSC, la audiodescripción y los elementos visuales en recursos estéticos. El papel, como material escénico, simboliza la metamorfosis del fuego: puede ser plegado, roto, iluminado y animado, representando los diferentes estados de la llama y la transmisión de energía. A través de la combinación de movimiento, sonido y visualidad, Focaris no solo busca ser una experiencia sensorial envolvente, sino también un espacio de inclusión donde cada espectador, independiente de sus capacidades sensoriales, pueda conectar con la obra de manera autónoma y significativa.

Taking as a departure point my experience working with war survivors in Peru, this project investigates how art can enable the collectivization of mourning. I connected my interest in the act of mourning human losses with my experiences living in Athens, Greece, where I encountered depression as a common diagnosis on both the individual and collective levels. If being depressed relates to unresolved mourning processes, what are the objects of loss caused by economic crisis and political disillusion? How can art help us to mourn an abstract loss, such as a political project, a certain sense of dignity, a particular relation with time and nature, or a fixed role in the familial structure? How could mourning be shared to allow communities to reframe and re-signify those objects of loss, towards transforming our relation to the economic and political? Lost and Shared creates dialogue between theory and affective labour, through collective experiences that connect emotions, critical thinking, body and space. The intuitions and questions brought by conversations with Greek activists and artists are the core of the project. Later on, facing the impossibility of working as planned due to the pandemic, Lost and Shared was adapted to the new socializing conditions and to acknowledge how crisis and mourning had become a global concern. Thus, the project ends up proposing the idea of “fertilizing mourning” as a concept in the making - an open invitation to collectively create practices that help us reconsidering the entanglements between life, death, and regeneration. Urgent practices we need today in order to contest the increasing, global processes of loss caused by capitalism.

This study seeks to illuminate a body of forgotten repertoire, documented in the Dutch Republic's courts, theatres, military, amateur circles, and churches. Comprising of a dissertation and two appendices, this study explores how double-reed instruments were used in the Dutch Republic in the years 1677–1725, focusing on seven types and sizes of instruments made by Richard Haka (<1646–1705). This critical period in double-reed history marks Europe's transition from the direct descendants of Renaissance-type instruments to the French-style instruments of the high Baroque period. The Dutch Republic, being the origin of one quarter of all pre-Classical oboes and the earliest-surviving datable bassoon, was one of the first places to adopt these French instruments outside of France — though the older forms of double-reed instruments continued to be used throughout the period of study. One could question the need for having so many of these instruments in a region which is largely unexplored in terms of historical performance practice and repertoire. Double-reed players of the Republic served in a variety of capacities and could be found playing several genres of music, but due to the historically-inconsistent use of terminology, determining the exact introduction and extinction of these instruments is nearly impossible; however, by contextualising an array of seemingly-unconnected primary sources and analysing details in the iconography of the period, a more-informed perspective on the matter can be gained.

This paper discusses a creative collaboration between two design researchers using text-to-image prompts as a way to think across a range of ideas including the relationships between collage practices and AI image generation – both modes of image-making that create images with images – as well as taking an ‘anarchival’ approach to addressing absence in historical archives. Initial experimentation with prompt-based model DALL-E 2 involved writing multiple prompts to generate images of the extinct King Island dwarf emu; specifically, an emu taken to live in Empress Josephine’s estate outside Paris. There is little visual record of the dwarf emus, and what remains is ambiguous and factually inaccurate. The scarcity of visual reference material provides an interesting case study for how a generative image model might attempt to elaborate a new image about a historical event. The results provide material to help think about how image generation models work, and also how we might visualise the experience of an extinct species. Reflecting on the initial experiments, we began to consider prompting with large-scale image generation models as a way to think-with and speculate, rather than to merely generate. We employ two methods to critique the resulting images: visual content analysis and comparative analysis across image-generation models. We conclude that at a time of both deliberate and accidental miscommunication, it is important for those with expertise in how images ‘work’ to critique and analyse image-generating tools, and consider how working with generative AI might be included as part of an anarchival practice.