Research Catalogue

Towards a (per)sonal topography of grand piano and electronics How can I develop a grand piano with live electronics through iterated development loops in the cognitive technological environment of instrument, music, performance and my poetics? The instrument I am developing, a grand piano with electronic augmentations, is adapted to cater my poetics. This adaptation of the instrument will change the way I compose. The change of composition will change the music. The change of music will change my performances. The change in performative needs will change the instrument, because it needs to do different things. This change in the instrument will show me other poetics and change my ideas. The change of ideas demands another music and another instrument, because the instrument should cater to my poetics. And so it goes… These are the development loops I am talking about. I have made an augmented grand piano using various music technologies. I call the instrument the HyPer(sonal) Piano, a name derived from the suspected interagency between the extended instrument (HyPer), the personal (my poetics) and the sonal result (music and sound). I use old analogue guitar pedals and my own computer programming side by side, processing the original piano sound. I also take out control signals from the piano keys to drive different sound processes. The sound output of the instrument is deciding colors, patterns and density on a 1x3 meter LED light carpet attached to the grand piano. I sing, yet the sound of my voice is heavily processed, a processing decided by what I am playing on the keys. All sound sources and control signal sources are interconnected, allowing for complex and sometimes incomprehensible situations in the instrument´s mechanisms. Credits: First supervisor: Henrik Hellstenius Second Supervisors: Øyvind Brandtsegg and Eivind Buene Cover photo by Jørn Stenersen, www.anamorphiclofi.com All other photo, audio and video recording/editing by Morten Qvenild, unless stated.

Een artistiek onderzoek naar contact, verbinding en gemeenschappelijke grond.

This is an exposition in progress. Starting in the 2021/22 season, the professorship Artistic Connective Practices organises and curates a series of encounters with practitioners, the research team of the professorship and audience, in order to explore the notion of Artistic Connective Practices.

"Walking Hanoi 2024 - Reflections on improvisation, listening and being attached" is an audio visual piece, which stems from my long standing connection to Vietnam, and specifically to an artistic research project that took place in late March 2024 in Hanoi. It took place as part of an international project - led by VIetnamese researchers, musicians and artists - on thinking through how best to digitise the diverse ethnic minority music in Vietnam. A sound walk, a gamified, ambulatory listening activity, with around 50 international artists/researchers forms the basis for this reflective piece on improvisation, situated listening, on embodied being, identity and the ways we attach ourselves to things, and how things attach themselves to us. In reflecting on improvisation and being, the piece, written, narrated and produced by Franziska Schroeder, draws upon the insights of artists and writers, including Simon Rose, Donna Haraway, Lucy Suchman, Judith Butler, Martin Heidegger to reflect on the situated-ness of the 2 hour street walk in Hanoi. It is a personal reflection, informed by how unspoken, often ineffable knowledge can shape one’s internal perspective. This internal perspective, or ‘insider point of listening’ becomes a central theme in this piece, framing the perception of an improvising self in relation to her tactile and sonic surroundings.

ABSTRACT Girl army – Narrative painting in space In my doctoral research in fine arts, I study narrative painting in space and examine the narratives of spatial painting series and other spatial assemblies of paintings. My paintings’ imagery deals with girlhood, womanhood, and the colour pink. A girl army – a wild and non-vi- olent group of girls – acts as a guide on my journey of exploration. My paintings’ girls take over various spaces. My artistic research includes a written section in which I report how my research proceeds, enabling me to find new ideas through verbal language. The written section deals with my artistic work process and non-ver- bal knowledge, and it describes how the search for words adds to my understanding of narrative, narrators, focal- isation, and immersivity. As artistic work and writing blend into a trajectory, I establish the words alongside non-verbal knowledge, and, in the end, I venture to ob- serve my works’ feminism. My research includes three public exhibitions of works that explore painting narratives, the colour pink, and placing in various spaces. The exhibitions took place dur- ing a period of ten years, as follows: My solo exhibition, Playground – My work is my pleasure, was on display at Galleria Korjaamo in autumn 2009, the painting instal- lation Paradis k (Kidnap) was part of the Eyeballing! ex- hibition at the Museum of Contemporary Art Kiasma in 2012, and my painting series Paradis r (Rascal) was on display in the Vallaton – Rascal group exhibition at the Vantaa Art Museum Artsi during 2017–2018. My research’s main stages are closely related to these three exhibitions included in my research. My research ques- tions follow, along with the works, a painting’s simultane- ous, linear, and temporally stretched narrative. I explore how paintings, in different spaces, turn into stories and immersive experiences, inviting viewers inside of them. I invite the reader into a story in which I wander, wearing a trainer on one foot and a high-heeled shoe on the other. I compare painting with a comfortable trainer and the painting’s analytical observation with a high-heeled shoe. As an artist-researcher, I feel like I am standing near my paintings in contrapposto. My research shows how the heel wears out and the words become familiar little by little. Theorists Mieke Bal and Kai Mikkonen, as well as various other researchers, art- ists, and their works, support my journey. Written lan- guage, too, can be wild and experimental, and it is the very element that turns my works into a form that can be verbally shared. Verbalising my research has revealed that a part of my works’ narrative becomes complete only when I leave my workspace and the works are exposed to views and inter- pretations. During my research, I realised the diversity of interpretations and the extent of factors that have influ- enced my work. The key results of my research include the understanding that an artist’s research process opens to be shared and followed through words. The definitions suggested by words do not invalidate a painting’s liberty to be completely indefinable, but they help to understand the various ways a painting’s narrative works. Katja Tukiainen 8 March 2022

Research Paper of the Royal Academy of Art, The Hague 2024. BA Photography. This research paper began to investigate photographers and visual artists who use their practice as a coping mechanism to deal and understand family dynamics and events connected to it. Drawing inspiration from personal narratives and correspondence with my father, the research navigates through themes such as generational silence, family, and Italian patriarchal culture.Through a reflective process, I believe that artistic practice can become a way to delve into the traumas that affect the family environment. In this way, it is possible to approach places and people we do not know well, such as our parents. This process not only facilitates healing but has also given me the tools to further develop my practice by using knowledge gained from the practice of other photographers and exploring the combination of different methods of writing. The research paper was the starting point of my collaboration with my father as it gave me the possibility to open a conversation with him and discover the untold things that lay between us. In the process of writing, I’ve used the paper as a way to remember the stories of my childhood and take inspiration for my photography. The elements that I’ve touched appon the stories came back later in the process of making allowing me to have a clearest idea of my further steps into the project. To understand this, I looked in someone else’s houses, experiencing the tradition of mourning on the Greek island through the photography of Ioanna Sakellaraki and the tenderness of a mother in understanding her children with the project of Sian Davey. I moved to different places, to different generations, entering the house of Larry Sultan, full of kitschy design and colorful wallpaper that sets the scene for a story of discovery. The driveway of Deanne Dikerman has seen many days and many goodbyes and the loving words and confession of Chantal Akerman who could not give more for her mother. I discovered the work of Tami Aftab in the little post-its stuck in the corners of a house and now part of the outside world. And then between laughter and tears, I entered the complicated house of Richard Billingham, between one glass of wine and another. Each of these artists showed their intimate space, in which we discover stories that do not belong to us but that can guide us to understanding where we are, what we feel, and what we suffer. There is a lot of vulnerability in being behind the camera while a parent is in front. To ask questions and start seeing them as people and not just as parents. To reveal the stories of pain that lie in the past and are hidden by the passing of time. We hide in the home to escape from what frightens us and then we are called to talk about what is hidden. Photography is a way in which we can reshape what has happened, a way in which we can understand the succession of events and build a home that hides nothing. In doing this research I opened up a conversation and brought the house outside. I broke a silence that had lasted too many years and found a passionate father who wanted to discard the past. And so, in staying in silence while you are willing to say things but don’t know where to start there is some tenderness and there is some strength. In unfolding the memories and breaking the silence I know I have found empathy instead of trauma, creating a common ground where climbing trees is a moment of rest somewhere in the past.