Research Catalogue

Along the Arctic and sub-Arctic coasts of Alaska, Siberia, north-eastern China, Hokkaido, Scandinavia and Iceland, people have been dressed or shoed in fish skin for millennia. These items were sometimes decorated with a rich colour palette of natural dyes provided by nature. Minerals and raw materials of plant origin were collected from the riverbanks and processed by Arctic seamstresses who operated as designers, biochemists, and zoologists at once. Our exhibition describes the process and illustrates the historical use of natural dyes by Arctic groups originally involved in this art. During our research, an international team of fashion and leather researchers used local Arctic and sub-Arctic flora from Sweden, Iceland and Japan to dye fish leather. Several plants were gathered and sampled on a small scale to test the process and determine the colours they generated based on historical literature and verbal advice from local experts. The project builds on traditional cultural heritage that has enabled us to develop sustainable dyeing processes. The results are promising and confirm the applicability of these local plants for dyeing fish leather, providing a basis for a range of natural dye colours from the local Arctic flora. The aim is to develop moderate-sized industrial production of fish leather in this colour palette to replace current unsustainable chemical dyeing processes. The fish leather dyeing techniques explored on this exhibition depend on the specific geographical location, the natural resources available, the local tradition and cultural identity. The huge variety of sources of colouring materials used throughout history serves as a testimony to the ingenuity of people, who discovered and developed these dyestuffs. When synthetic dyes were discovered in the mid-19th century, natural dyes became less important, although today they are gaining popularity again thanks to the emerging sustainable movement. The exhibition aims to consider how the dyeing of fish leather might recognise and inspire deeper relational connections between people, and their environment. By working with natural raw materials and natural dyes we can ensure that the materials can be returned to the earth after a lifetime of use with a positive impact on ecosystem health. Conservation policies and management plans are also needed to sustainably preserve these ethnobotanical resources while supporting local livelihoods and maintaining cultural practices. The project represents an innovation in materials design driven by traditional technologies, addressing changes in interactions between humans and with our environment. The results indicate that new materials, processes and techniques are often the fruitful marriage of historical research into traditional methods and fashion, helping the industry move towards a more sustainable future.

This video essay explores the sacred landscapes of Delphi and Delos, studying their historical significance as a centres of female knowledge, through embodied, intuitive, and affective engagement. Thinking about Ada Lovelace’s notion of poetical science, the site visits seek to trace the contextual and geographical roots of this concept. The film approaches knowledge as a sensuous, relational and embodied process, one that resists dominant rationalist and technocentric paradigms. The voiceover, recorded in Greece, threads reflections from Hélène Cixous’s The Laugh of the Medusa (1976), Karen Barad’s Diffracting Diffraction (2014), and Sasha Biro’s The Oracle as Intermediary (2022) from Otherwise Than Binary, New Feminist Readings in Ancient Philosophy and Culture Decker, J.E., Layne, D.A. and Vilhauer, M. (2022). Through these situated readings, the film proposes curating research and thinking through place as not merely interpretive but performative: an intra-active practice between self, site, and matter. The work explores myth and reverie, positioning the body in context as instrument. It proposes an expanded curatorial methodology rooted in presence, sensual attention, and poetic science - where intuition is included, and the landscape is approached as co-creator.

This research is rooted in nihilism, exploring how the contrast between materiality and spirituality leads to an uncomfortable way of percieving existence. What does it mean to be unable to believe in "what's beyond"? What role does the body play in such an issue? The starting point is a deeply philosophical debate. Through art and numerous attempts it tries to unravel itself.

This video essay discusses how contemporary artists might directly address some of the philosophical and political challenges of a material approach to instrumentality through creative practice. I present and discuss the practical approaches taken by musicians who create and collaborate with instruments as a central part of their work: Khabat Abas and Sam Underwood. In examining their creative practice both creating and working with musical instruments, I examine how these artists navigate the agential and material aspects of the instruments and systems they create, in parallel with the conceptual ideas that they bring to and derive from such systems.

Andy Birtwistle’s introduction to this special issue addresses the question "what is sonic materiality?" by examining how both "new" and "old" materialisms offer productive frameworks for conceptualizing sound's material dimensions. Drawing on work by Cox, Voegelin, and Cobussen, alongside critiques from Goh, Thompson, and Campbell, the article proposes understanding sound's materiality through texture, temporal flow, and spatiality. By engaging with Structural/Materialist film theory and creative sonic practices, Birtwistle discusses how materiality intersects with aesthetics, agency, and ethics in sound. The introduction argues that exploring sonic materiality opens new avenues for understanding sound across environmental soundscapes, artistic practices, and cultural contexts.

Is the reality perceived by someone with dementia less real than our own? Can photography give authority to this alternate reality? This research, sparked by my newfound relationship with my dementia-affected grandfather Raymond, investigates the family album - often perceived as an unquestionable document - in order to uncover its ambiguities and to question photography in itself as the most trustful record of reality. The inaccuracy of a medium that aims for objectiveness and is perceived as the bearer of truth, leads me to focus on three different ways of approaching the family archive (collection, editing and manipulation) and the relationship between mortality and memory. By using a mix of photography and photogrammetry, Ray's distorted memories - as he recounted them during his illness - became new images in order to materialise his present parallel truth. Alongside this dreamlike everyday, what has survived of Ray's past is contained in a briefcase: 254 photographs that have been transformed into postcards, travelling keepsakes, ready to be sent. If photography is in itself unreliable, why should the reality of a person who has lost his memory be any less real than our own?