Research Catalogue

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?

Arts-based-philosophy is an emerging research concept at the cutting edge of the arts, philosophy and the Sciences in which cross-disciplinary research collectives align their research practices to finally stage their investigations in field-performances, shared with the public. Our research explores the significance of the HEART in artistic research and performance philosophy from a cross-cultural perspective, partially based on the concepts of the HEART in the works of two artist-philosophers, in which philosophy already became arts-based-philosophy: Nietzsche’s Thus Spoke Zarathustra and Aurobindo’s poetic opus magnum Savitri. We generally assume that the works of artist-philosophers are not only engaged in “creating concepts” (Deleuze), but their concepts are also meant to be staged artistically to let them bodily matter in fact. The role of the HEART in respect to this process of “bodily mattering” is the core objective under investigation: Firstly, because we hold that atmospheres trigger the HEART of a lived-body to taste the flavor of things it is environmentally engaged with basically in an aesthetic manner (Nietzsche). In this respect the analysis of the classical notion for the aesthete in Indian philosophy and aesthetics, sahṛdaya––which literally means, “somebody, with a HEART”––becomes crucial. Secondly, because the HEART is said to be not just reducible to one’s manifest Nature, but has access to one’s virtual Nature as well. The creation hymn in the oldest of all Vedas (Rgveda) for instance informs us that a HEART is capable of crossing being (sat) & non-being (asat), which makes it fluctuate among these two realms and even allows its aspirations to let virtual possibilities matter. Such concepts show striking similarities with contemporary concepts in philosophy-physics, e.g. the concepts of “virtual particles” and “quantum vacuum fluctuations” (Barad).

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 chapter will detail the evolution of a set of improvised performances that explored Empathic Speculation in both live and studio settings. As a means to elevate musical attunement in live performance based on an atmosphere of musical trust that ‘allows for creative risk-taking, which can result in the production of spontaneous musical utterances’ (Seddon, 2005: 58), Empathic Speculation (Bain, 2021) describes a further level of interaction that attempts to encourage another member of the ensemble beyond their perceived musical boundaries; or ‘comfort zones’.

When starting a composition, waiting for the fabled “inspiration to hit” can be unreliable at best and frustrating at worst. To investigate this issue, I look at how experts in other art disciplines approach the practice of creativity, specifically when beginning a new project, which, in composition, equates to starting a new piece. This paper explores how encounters with six creativity exercises originating from the disciplines of writing, choreography, and visual art can result in new possible approaches to jazz composition. The approaches explored include a Daily Method from author Julia Cameron, an Animal Method from poet Ted Hughes, a Haiku Method from authors Linda Anderson and Derek Neale, an Improvisational Method from choreographer Twyla Tharp, a Habit Method from choreographer Jonathan Burrows, and a Modeling Method from visual artist Austin Kleon. Throughout my research, I tested these six methods in my compositional practice and recorded the musical outcomes. I then shared three methods with musical colleagues to try before collecting their thoughts. In each method, I will recount my writing process using the method, my journal entries, and my overall thoughts. In the animal, haiku, and improvisation methods, I will also compare this to the experience of my colleagues. Each section will conclude with a musical work created from the method and my own evaluation of the resulting composition. The research demonstrates viable conceptual strategies for approaching jazz composition derived from other art disciplines and suggests that creative practice can be both accessible and sustainable over the long term.

Editorial of the inaugural edition of ARJAZZ Journal for Artistic Research in Jazz (May, 2025)