Research Catalogue

Documentation of preliminary steps and collection of musical material and related reflections during the first Term of the Master's Program in Improvisation and World Music. December 2022

We live in an age of Symbolic Misery (Stiegler, 2014). In this era, we listen to the same music, scroll through the same Instagram feeds, and we immerse ourselves in daily lives that are the same as others, gradually losing the 'singularity (Stiegler, 2014)' of individual difference. This homogenized structure of perception continuously reshapes our subjectivity (Simondon, 1958; Hui, 2016), making individual desires no longer emerge from unique experiences or internal generative processes, but are increasingly induced and regulated by external technological and symbolic systems (Stiegler, 2015). In this context, the question is no longer 'What do we produce?' but rather, 'Do our desires still belong to ourselves?'. As Stiegler (2014) pointed out, in order to enter the market more effectively, marketing technologies have developed an industrial aesthetic system centered on audiovisual media. This industrial aesthetic re-functionalizes individual sensory experiences following industrial interests, aiming to produce a replicable and controllable unified taste through the standardized pleasure. This huge 'desire project (libidinal management)' manipulates human drives for externalization through a diversity of apparatus (Agamben, 2009; Foucault, 1977), generating a sense of 'participation' via formalized interaction, restricting the level of perception and expression (Stiegler, 2015). Through daily repetition, this process gradually weakens the individual’s ability for subjectivation, trapping them within a passive structure of desire (Stiegler, 2014). This exposition is based on an artistic research project titled 'I Don’t Know Who I Am', an installation game. It invites players to watch a five-minute monologue, the story of a cow (inspired by, for example, Lacan et al., 2001), to explore the secrets hidden within this cow’s desire. After watching the video, the player will face a plate of real grass with soya sauce, and be invited to make a choice: whether or not to eat the grass. This installation game encourages players to reflect on a critical question: At a time when industrial aesthetics and subjective experience standardize individual desire, is increasingly hollowed out, where do our desires truly come from? Do they still emerge from internal generative processes, or have they long been preconditioned and disciplined by technological objects and symbolic systems?

How can I, as a workshop facilitator, create inclusive, inviting and transformative spaces for sparking moments of joy around diversity? How does my training as an artist, researcher and teacher inform and enable my role as a workshop facilitator, such that I can support radical expressions of self-acceptance? What are the limitations to my role, and what possibilities may lie ahead through continued reflection and practice? I have worked through these questions by exploring the concept of vulnerability through a/r/tographic theories and practices, with the culmination of my research and reflections shared in this exposition. Though I have long hosted workshops in marginalised communities as a means for building resilience and kinship, only in the past year have I begun to analyse, from theoretical and methodological perspectives, how and why certain approaches work. Again and again, my reflective meanderings take me back to a single core concept, namely vulnerability. By being vulnerable, one becomes open and raw, which — in certain conditions — can lead to curiosity, risk-taking and remarkable creativity. With such an open and desiring mind, creative practices like crafting can evoke radical feelings of joy and appreciation around a topic that otherwise may tend to conjure conflicting or undesirable feelings. Vulnerability is particularly important in my work because the primary focus of my workshops has been bodily joy. Largely, I have hosted workshops wherein we have explored positive feelings of one’s gender diverse experiences, expressions or identity through paper crafting. Recently, I have also begun hosting crafting workshops, in which we forest bathe (friluftsliv) then craft on the joy one has felt in communion with nature. Crafting becomes an extension of the self, a temporary reincarnation of our own materiality in which we bring to life an alternative understanding of our own potential. In this exposition, I address the questions above by drawing on two example workshops, Crafting Gender Diverse Joy, and Crafting Joy in Nature -- hosted in April and May 2025, respectively. The organisation of this exposition is inspired by L. Balzi’s ice cracks metaphor (2023), Irwin's rhizomatic walking method (2013), and LeBlanc's The Wake (2019). The workshop process as a whole is a reverberation of impulses rippling outwards without end. I navigate these reverberations through a visual mapping of a rhizomatic system of roots sprawling from a tree in Bymarka. The roots are vast web of connections, largely hidden beneath the ground as points of potential. With our imaginations, we can appreciate the complexity of this web, just as we can trace the multiple invisible processes that lead us to our eventual a/r/tographic choices. I invite you to wander across these knots and walls, encountering the various descriptive concepts, or 'centres of vibration', to borrow from Deleuze and Guattari (1994; in Irwin & Springgay, 2008). The layout is roughly guided by the three stages of the workshop process (planning, workshop, aftercare), sprinkled with key concepts, theories, and practices. I also include documentation from the workshops, such as photos and crafts (with permission granted). Enjoy your own wandering. I look forward to hearing your thoughts.

This research consists of the artistic and organizational process of creating a workshop called “Experimental music for children”. In this exposition you can read about how I and my fellow musicians created a workshop for children through eight workshop sessions that took place between February 2024 and January 2025. This resulted in an interactive workshop with children about co-creation, exploration and art making. In addition, this research explores how such a project affects my personal artistic development. In this exposition, you can read about the construction and development of the workshops, and how they evolved into a concrete artistic project. The data collected from the workshops was organised through the merging of critical reflection and analysis. The theoretical part of this research is based on literature and observations of experimental music, art for children and similar experimental music projects. These references serve as material for developing and concretising the artistic vision while shaping the project and ensuring its place in the artistic field as well as the realm of educational research.

One of the aspects Jimmie Blanton (1918–42), best known as Duke Ellington’s bassist between 1939 and 1941, has been most praised for is his tone, particularly its loudness, which has been characterised as “outsized,” “resonant,” “roaring,” and “huge.” While Brian Priestley (2009, 85) observed that tone is often “thought of as god-given,” I wanted to understand why and how Blanton’s tone was (perceived as being) different from that of his peers. I examined several possible impact factors, such as his performance technique and instrument, but found none differed significantly from those of his fellow bassists. Eventually, I (partially) found the answer by recreating Blanton’s music. In this exposition, I examine an experimental recording session by the Brussels Jazz Orchestra and myself on bass in which we recreated the circumstances of a 1930s–1940s Ellington performance, both live and in the studio, in a historically informed way, for example, by using historically appropriate instrumentation, repertoire, location, recording set-up, and performance practice. The outcome revealed that specific changes in the orchestra’s seating plan were key to Blanton’s perceived superior tone. Using media samples, I review the preparation, recording process, and results, drawing on a combination of visual analysis of historical photographs, complete participant observation, comparative auditory analysis, and formal and informal (semi-structured) interviews with participants.

With this exposition, we share the creative process that led to the composition and performance of Stretch, a piece by a jazz quartet led by pianist Piergiorgio Pirro. We will show that introducing theoretical models and paradigms from spectralism as a “foreign body” into the workings of a small jazz band illuminates a complex network of factors at play in the band’s music making, leading to a thorough reconfiguration in which new instruments get built and played, old habits need to be unlearnt, uncommon interactions emerge and theoretical frameworks clash in practice.