Sonic Geographies of Hope: How can Song become an Act of Restoration for a Damaged Planet? by Angela Valenzuela (Loica)

I dedicate this work to Robin Wall Kimmerer’s call for acts of restoration for our damaged planet. In my project, I choose song composition and performance as a way to find pathways for personal and collective restoration. Through the methods of artistic research I write songs inspired by my experience of ecological grief, academic reading, interviews to song composers, and journaling. As a contribution from my work, I present a new compositional methodology, Sonic Geographies of Hope. This methodology calls for song composers to write songs grounded in personal and collective grief of our damaged planet. I suggest that these type of songs can become an act of restoration and create collective resonance for more hopeful ways of existing and experiencing the world. This methodology is heavily influenced by the work of A. Hazelwood and her methodology Geographies of Hope in Praxis (2020). While I draw inspiration from this methodology, my work focuses mainly on emotional geographies. This work represents a starting point to explore song methodologies that can nurture immaterial geographies leading to concrete, structural ecological restoration. It is an exploration to find ways to restore yourself to continue to fight for the dignity of the places, more-than human life and people we love.

Here I look at a couple of journal entries from 03.02.25 and 15.04.25. These entries help me understand how my composition process for the concert Geographies of Hope supported a journey of self-restoration:

“I want to enjoy the music that I make. Like I used to. I want music and music making to be a restoration act for myself. To restore myself. Restore the balance. If I don't come back to a place of joy in music, my whole bachelor thesis will be a lie and a contradiction. I am damaged. I feel broken. I feel off. I struggle every day to find myself and feel grounded. My friends, community, and so many people around me are damaged. The planet. Full of wounds. I am desperate for hope.” (A. Valenzuela, personal communication, February 3, 2025).

In this entry it's possible to notice tension and struggle in the creative process. At the same time, the creative process itself represents a way to find hope. In the next entry, which is a month before the concert, describes a rehearsal day where I experienced self-doubt:

“I was in a terrible mood and became really self-conscious about my songs and the fact that most of them are sad. By the time we were done with the rehearsal, I was overwhelmed, tired, sad and decided to just go home. I crushed in my bed attaching myself to it like a starfish to a rock. I fell asleep listening to the sad songs of Nick Drake. It's ok to write sad songs if that’s what's coming out of honesty. But somehow, sometimes I wish there was more than this deep sadness to witness so much destruction and loss. And there is. It's just that when we talk about hope, I must give space to all the grief that I carry, because it's connected to the great love that I cherish for this Earth. I can only feel hope if I recognize the source of pain and despair, and then make a conscious decision to believe. Then hope becomes an act of restoration by itself. It's in essence an action, a verb, a breeze that sets my soul into movement. So in this chapter of my life, the songs are sad because I am grieving.” (A. Valenzuela, personal communication, April 15, 2025).

By the end of the entry, I arrive at a place that opens a way for acceptance of the songs and my creative process. I invite myself to find hope by welcoming difficult emotions and finding honesty in music.

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5.1 Journey of self-restoration