Research Catalogue

The Art of Preluding was once common practice but more or less disappeared during the last century. In recent years, there has been renewed interest in reviving this artform. The content found on the website is the result of years of research in the artistic and pedagogical field, and an academic research project at the Royal Conservatoire Antwerp in Belgium. It relies on historical didactic instructions to make preluding at the piano accessible and up-to-date again, and promotes the development of a contemporary approach.

This exposition proposes “artistic ecosystems” as a speculative framework for understanding creative processes shaped by interspecies collaboration and posthuman thought. The entry explores how art involving non-human agencies challenges anthropocentric norms and redefines authorship, participation, and temporality. Through a personal selection of immersive, site-specific, and ecological works by artists such as Westendorp, Eliasson, Huyghe, and Denes, the author outlines the beginnings of a doctoral research trajectory. These projects exemplify sympoietic, open-ended modes of creation, positioning performance and art-making as a fragile, relational ecosystem of human and more-than-human entanglements.

The research explores 'ornamenting' as a transferable method in inter-disciplinary studies, inter-faith dialogues and artistic/therapeutic practices. Adapting techniques of Renaissance musicology, the processes we have developed de-create and re-create vital connections. It is a communica-tions strategy for times of crisis. Starting with simple sonic relations we extend the method far be-yond its traditional musical setting. The practice utilises 'Nothingness' as a component of creativity, providing a novel response to figurations of nothingness as mere negation. Preliminary results sug-gest its potential as a counter force to nihilism and social dislocation. The work divides into four areas. 1. Primary research on relationships between sound, meaning, and the sense(s) of self, exploring how sense is made of Otherness via processes akin to musical praxis: consonance, dissonance, 'pure voice' and ornamentation. 2. To apply this new perspective to a range of exile experiences – mourning, social disconnection, ex-communication and aggres-sive 'Othering'. 3. To investigate the cancelling of normal time-conditions in crisis situations such as trauma, dementia, and mystical experience, relating non-linear temporality to creative practice and healing. 4. To widely disseminate our results and methods as contributions to the methodology of artistic research via journal articles, live workshops and performances, and a book of original, praxical, testable, and teach-able interventions.

Masterprosjekt for Tiril Eirunn Einarsdotter våren 2025

A dice roll is the very image of randomness. Every day since September 1, 1994, I have rolled a set of six dice, written down the number combinations and collected the numerical material in an ever-growing physical archive. The project is entitled "one and one hundred dice rolls a day". I use this numerical material as a starting point for transformations by translating each number, 1 to 6, into one sign, shape, sound or word, and by creating rules for how these translations will be used further. This method shapes the concrete outcomes and results in series or other forms of progressions and connections. What unites the different sub-projects that stem from the dice roll project is an exploration of the inherent nature of this special material and its potential for form, expression, and visibility, as well as a fascination with the diversity and variations generated, and with results I cannot fully predict. In this exposition, I will describe, make visible, and reflect on the working method, process, and the development of the formal language and expressions that have emerged from this ongoing, and in many ways interconnected, artistic project. The project is seen from a place (that of me, the artist's perspective) and is developed from a point (the dice rolls with dots representing numbers).

When the Sea Invades the House displaces a real octopus from the ocean into bedrooms, windows, cars and ruins. Its tentacular body embodies ecological grief, dragging the sea into spaces where human life unfolds. Each photograph is an archival fragment of mourning, recording the dissonance between a body that belongs to the depths and the surfaces where it is forced to appear. The final image, marked by a black tear, crystallises this grief as wound and testimony. It is the ocean itself that mourns, silently infiltrating the everyday.