Self-evaluation 

Looking back over the course of this research, I can see how my initial intentions—to develop a tool for improvisation and composition based on intuitive inputs—have both shaped and been reshaped by the process itself. What started as a personal exploration into how to make musical parameters more accessible has grown into a broader system, one that reaches beyond sound and into rich interdisciplinary terrain. Working with analysis, listening, parameters, research, musicians, dancers, and visual forms has pushed me to rethink the idea of control in artistic practice—shifting instead toward a model of invitation. Through these collaborations, I’ve come to understand that the vitality of artistic work often arises from relational tension, responsiveness, and trust.

One of the most meaningful outcomes of this research has been the opportunity to trace back the origins of my creative thinking. I’ve tried to uncover what drives and inspires me and give that internal world a tangible form—something I can carry forward into the complexity of today’s artistic landscape with confidence and clarity. I’m particularly satisfied with how the analytical dimension developed throughout the project. It has enriched the way I approach what I play and what I hear—not through a lens of sterile critique, but through a constructive and attentive kind of analysis that helps me grow. This was also my first in-depth experience conducting artistic research, and I discovered a real passion for this form of work. It was also a relief to realize that I didn’t have to prove my value solely through performance. Research became a space where ideas, not just sound, could carry meaning.

I came to recognize that one of the project’s strengths lies in its ability to adapt and to cultivate the human side of artistic interaction. This process has deepened my understanding of improvisation as a compositional paradigm and has also shifted my conception of tools—not as external objects but as living extensions of thought. Perhaps the most important shift was realizing that I, too, became a tool: an interpreter, a translator, a listener, and a generator of possibility.

Loose ends and unsolved problems 

While these positive aspects shaped much of the experience, I also encountered concrete challenges. One was the desire to produce more musical material and engage more fully with the analytical processes, in order to arrive at a more refined and less raw outcome. Much of my time was devoted to building the system itself rather than fully exploring it, and I now wish I had spent more time becoming familiar with it in practice.

Another issue relates to my role as a performer. Over time, my focus shifted toward other artistic dimensions, and I set aside regular practice of my instrument outside of the context of this specific language. I now wonder: if I had maintained a more serious and consistent approach to both improvisational and traditional study, would the results have been more refined from the start? I believe that my insecurity as a performer played a significant role at the beginning of this research, and to some extent, this feeling lingered even as I worked to transform it through the process.

From a compositional standpoint, I still struggle with the immediacy of moving from an analyzed fragment to something present and active. I suspect this comes, in part, from an internal hesitation and self-judgment around how I apply the method—something that still disrupts the flow of the work at times.

From the perspective of my collaborators, a recurring difficulty was how to explain the system clearly—without reducing it to “just do whatever you want, try to follow along, but it’s okay either way.” There was also the challenge of minimizing the immediate impression that the visual elements were graphic scores in the traditional sense. I see now that I need to refine my ability to introduce the system in a more musically-oriented way from the very beginning. Bringing someone into your world takes time, care, and patience.

From an interdisciplinary standpoint, I would have liked to explore the method further in collaborations with other art forms, including contexts where I wasn’t the one performing—just to see how others might interpret and engage with it.

Possibilities for Future Iterations

I’ve reflected at length on the potential future directions for this project. As mentioned earlier in the research, a tool remains a tool: I can choose to use it, or not. Years might pass before I feel the need to return to it—but I carry the awareness that I built it, and that it is now part of my creative vocabulary. In other contexts, I’d be curious to explore how the same method might work in pedagogical environments, especially with young students. I believe the system could offer a way to introduce creative thinking that begins with self-listening and with discovering what resonates personally. The system is also highly adaptable to workshops or group classes, especially due to the immediacy of the graphic component, which is accessible to almost anyone.

My extended reflection on pedals also made me think this framework could be applied in collaboration with pedal manufacturers—to co-develop tools that are more human, responsive, and open to creative exploration.

From a compositional perspective, the issue of notation is something that could be further developed and refined. It would be interesting to look toward other disciplines for inspiration: how dancers annotate gesture in choreography, how visual designers sketch interactions, or how contemporary composers create hybrid systems. Adapting the notational strategies of this project depending on the context is, I believe, one of the key ways to increase its flexibility and long-term applicability.