Research Catalogue

Exploring the affordances of Larping in virtual reality.

This project tackles the issue of describing, composing, and perceiving vocality in a synthetic context, highlighting an experiential approach to the perception of a vocal signal. The research primarily focuses on the idea of fusions of sounds, particularly fusions between synthetic and natural voice, where the resulting quality enriches a vocal experience through the ambiguities and multiplicities it brings forth. Design choices and aesthetical considerations of a computer program for vocal synthesis are then discussed in relation to my own approaches to vocal composition.

Abstract In the evolving landscape of contemporary art, the value of failure and experimentation plays a central role in reshaping artistic research. This paper explores an artistic residency where the focus shifted from traditional practices of ink on canvas to performance art using the human body as a medium of expression. This residency emphasized uncertainty, experimentation, and emotional expression as the core of the process. Through collaboration between a calligrapher and a visual artist, the performance engaged themes of seduction, silence, and the transition between reality and abstraction. In alignment with experimental art practices, the process itself became the artwork, embracing moments of failure and disruption as key components of creative exploration. This research integrates theories from neuroscience, psychology, and artistic failure, drawing on the insights of thinkers like John Cage, Samuel Beckett, and Cornelius Cardew to further contextualize the residency’s impact. Introduction: The Heart of the Experiment John Cage once said, “I am trying to be unfamiliar with what I’m doing,” encapsulating the essence of experimental art practices where uncertainty is the driving force. In artistic research, experimentation is often at the heart of the process, and the outcome remains unknown. This lack of a predetermined result transforms both the journey and the final product into a continuous exploration, where failure is not only inevitable but desirable. In this residency, we embraced the unknown, shifting the artistic dialogue from ink on canvas to ink on the human body, creating a living, breathing artwork where emotions were the palette and failure became a method of discovery. Many artistic research projects require clear outcomes, often restricting experimentation. Yet, experimental art seeks to remove these boundaries, allowing failure to become an integral part of both the process and the work itself. This paper explores how this residency’s focus on performance, movement, and emotional interaction met these ideals, revealing how experimentation—through silence, seduction, and the transition from refusal to acceptance—became the heart of the artistic expression. Methodology: Embracing Uncertainty and Failure The artistic residency functioned as an experimental laboratory where failure was not feared but embraced. Drawing on Cage’s philosophy of unfamiliarity and Beckett’s notion of “failing better,” the process allowed the artists to abandon the need for perfection and instead explore the limits of emotional expression, communication, and embodiment. The performance was set in a dark room, with a single spotlight illuminating the artists—a calligrapher and a visual artist. The calligrapher’s body, inscribed with ink, represented a departure from traditional practices, while the visual artist used his camera to document the unfolding emotions and moments. Silence and movement were central to the performance, creating a tension that invited the audience to engage with the vulnerability of the process. This mirrored Tom Johnson’s *Failing* (1975), a piece that requires performers to confront inevitable failure, resonating with the uncertainty of the residency’s artistic outcome. Experimental art theorists, such as Cornelius Cardew, posit that failure is intrinsic to artistic exploration because it reveals the gap between human goals and nature’s indifference to success or failure. In this residency, the focus on human emotions, embodied through movement and silence, underscored the natural disruptions in communication, problem-solving, and artistic interaction. Each failure—a misstep in movement, a hesitation in gesture—became an opportunity to delve deeper into emotional layers, ultimately enhancing the collaborative experience. The Neuroscience of Artistic Failure and Emotional Expression Experimental art is inherently tied to the exploration of emotion, failure, and cognitive engagement. Neuroscientific research highlights how emotional engagement in art can trigger neural pathways associated with empathy, problem-solving, and emotional regulation. According to Damasio’s (1999) theory of embodied emotion, our bodies are active participants in emotional processing, and failure in art allows for deeper emotional introspection. The calligraphy inscribed on the skin in this performance transcended words, representing not only artistic expression but emotional communication. The transitions between silence and song, refusal and acceptance, echo research on how art can stimulate emotional engagement in both the artist and the audience. Mirror neuron studies by Rizzolatti and Craighero (2004) suggest that observing others’ actions and emotions can activate the same neural circuits in the observer, allowing the audience to “mirror” the emotional journey of the artists. As the performers navigated their own emotional responses to failure, the audience was drawn into a parallel experience, deepening the emotional resonance of the performance. Failure as Method: From Artistic Process to Product In this residency, failure was not a negative outcome but an integral part of the creative process. The artists’ uncertainty about the outcome mirrored the audience’s experience, where emotional and cognitive engagement with the work continuously evolved. This aligns with the notion of failure as a method in artistic research. Cardew’s reflection on Buster Keaton’s comedic failure—where success is not the goal but the continual striving for success—is a fitting metaphor for the residency’s performance. The collaboration between the two artists was based on trust, yet their movements, gestures, and interactions often led to unexpected outcomes. These moments of “failure” created space for new interpretations and understandings of the artwork. Failure in experimental art, as argued by de Duve (1996), can create productive disturbances, altering our perception of the artwork and allowing us to reconsider its boundaries. In this residency, each failure—whether in movement, coordination, or communication—became an opening for growth, creating a dialogue between the artists and the audience that highlighted the unpredictability of the creative process. Mindfulness and the Role of Emotional Intelligence in the Residency A key element of the residency was the mindfulness required to navigate emotional states and mental wellbeing. Artistic collaboration demands a high level of emotional intelligence, as noted by Goleman (1995), who emphasized the role of empathy, self-awareness, and emotional regulation in interpersonal relationships. The performance, in which two artists had to communicate silently and through movement, was an exercise in mindfulness—each artist had to be acutely aware of the other’s mental and emotional state. This process reflects Csikszentmihalyi’s (1990) concept of “flow,” a psychological state in which individuals are fully immersed in a task that challenges both their emotional and cognitive capacities. The artists’ ability to adapt to failure, manage stress, and maintain trust throughout the performance highlighted the importance of emotional regulation and problem-solving in creative collaboration. Conclusion: Experimentation as a Living Art Form This residency exemplifies how experimental art transforms failure from a flaw into a tool for discovery. Through the collaboration between a calligrapher and a visual artist, the performance embodied the core principles of experimental art, where the outcome was unknown, and the process itself became the artwork. The interaction between movement, silence, and emotional expression invited the audience into an experience where failure and success were no longer opposites but part of the same continuum. In line with the ideas presented by Cage, Beckett, and Cardew, this artistic residency demonstrated that failure is an essential part of artistic experimentation. It is through failure that the artists and audience alike are able to push beyond the familiar, creating new pathways for emotional communication, artistic expression, and cognitive engagement. The residency thus becomes a living experiment in both art and human connection, with failure acting as the pulse of its creative heartbeat.

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.

This thesis is an attempt to unfold multifaceted discussions in multispecies entanglements, focusing on the fundamental act of feeding—a process that extends beyond mere sustenance to become a critical interaction within the web of life. It interlaces a rich array of perspectives, combining academic research, artistic inquiry, and personal reflections to illuminate the diverse implications of feeding.