I conceived a [NONAME]-machine, or creation machine, as a prototype tool for generating new musical ideas by combining different artistic inputs in a cyclical process. Instead of relying solely on personal taste or reacting directly to others’ work, I wanted to break from familiar creative paths and uncover fresh perspectives. This theoretical device helps me disrupt habitual patterns—both in thinking and in composition—by introducing a structured sense of distance. Through this approach, various musical and personal identities can merge in surprising ways, encouraging further creation.
Although it’s still a work in progress, the creation machine’s basic function is straightforward: I gather elements (recordings, improvisations, textual fragments, or outside collaboration), layer them, and see what emerges. I can repeatedly feed new material into the system, reassembling older pieces and blending them with fresh contributions. This cyclical loop means each generation of results can become source material for the next round of experiments, creating a fluid, open-ended process.
I also view this machine as an aid to my own brain—another “physical and theoretical machine”—by disrupting familiar neural pathways. Rather than descending into chaos, I give the [NONAME]-machine just enough structure to anchor my creativity while leaving room for spontaneity. The outcome is an interplay between controlled unpredictability and directed exploration, encouraging me to keep pushing toward unfamiliar territory.
For me, this method reflects my belief that a robust creative process requires guiding constraints while also questioning what I take for granted. My [NONAME]-machine fulfills both: it shapes the environment via layered inputs yet allows for unplanned discoveries. It doesn’t generate finished works by itself but ignites my imagination, prompting ideas I might otherwise overlook.
Though the device lacks a definitive name, it owes much to the “cut-up” approach made famous by William Burroughs and Brion Gysin, who sliced and rearranged text and sound to expose unexpected connections. By repurposing and reconfiguring various materials—improvised tracks, words, sonic fragments—I often stumble on patterns that nudge me into new artistic territory.
Curated assembly from multiple random input
Test #1 – forced explorations, randomization as a disruptive element, not to complete, but to search for new