Research Catalogue

In this autoethnographic arts-based research, I return to the gift of music in my life and use it as the ultimate form of expression. I explore the process of navigating my own transgenerational trauma through composing and working with musicians from different musical and cultural backgrounds. Something like home explores the effect of finding common ground of love and compassion between my family members, especially those who have been navigating the traumas of war. I collected stories, memories, and impressions from my family’s childhood, and composed music that is inspired by them. In the first sections I discuss some concepts related to the transmittion of war trauma , and Bowen’s family system theory. Moreover, I relate to reasearches and projects that have been concerned with trauma art therapy and dealing with cultural trauma through music. As well as showing examples of composers who have been working with similar processes. In this project, I unfold my compositional process, and I present some possibilities of dealing with harmonizing traditional Arabic music, using partials from the harmonic series. I also share my process of collaborating with a lyric writer and a videographer who have helped me to bring the stories to life. Throughout the process I discovered that engaging with the stories unlocked new artistic outcomes and some unexpected artistic practices, expressions and results. Another important outcome of this project was the need for coming up with approaches that were used for transcultural music making and engaging the musicians with the stories but making sure to leave space for their own artistic identities to come across and shine. In the near future, I am hoping to use this project as a basis of my doctoral research project which will focus on memory expression through music by working with the diverse citizines of the finnish community.

This exposition gathers all the essential information needed to get started with the Research Catalogue (RC) platform at the Iceland University of the Arts (IUA). It offers a clear overview of how to create a profile, start an exposition, and navigate the basic functions of the platform. The goal is to provide staff with a central reference point for working with RC in the context of artistic research and institutional use.

Islington studio flat 4, at 14 Barnsbury Road, London, 2022, privately rented. Interior design and styling, as art installation. Looted, 2024. Investigatory research with artworks, 2023-24. Interactive research blog. The exposition aims to highlight the role of women within an interwoven narrative about a complex and international criminal case. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Looting https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Loot_(magazine) My personal belongings were still at the property for two months, after I left on 27 March 2024 and was asked to collect them by 3 or 4 April from Woolwich. After I left, the landlords moved in two or three under aged, who I have never met, so that they pretend to be my daughters. Subsequently, they must have been 'removing' them one by one over the last few months and until October 2024. The company behind 14 Barnsbury Road was deemed illegal through the courts, on 22 April, 2024, shortly after I was forced to leave at the end of March. The maintenance employed many Polish citizens, all dressed in black with black caps, adopting the XRW supporters' fashion code. The household of tenants was mixed and multicultural, but mainly British natives, with the exception of a couple from Hong-Kong, an American citizen, and myself, a naturalised British citizen, originally from Greece. Twenty-two (22) and twenty-three (23) photographs, including two (2) plus one (1) of myself: NOT a missing person, from the 2022-2023 period in the eventually looted, in spring 2024, Islington studio. Twenty-two (22) missing persons for twenty-two (22) non-EU and EU fake passports with my family's Greek surname; plus one (1) that might also be connected with a missing Greek teenager, therefore twenty-three (23). Two (2) more missing persons for two (2) more fake passports without my family's surname. Two (2), plus one (1) targeted cultural producers: the anti-fascist Greek musician, Pavlos Fyssas, aka Killah P. (domestic); the Belgian filmmaker of Jewish origins, Chantal Akerman (global), who lived and worked in France, as well as the US, and whose personal details, specifically her life insurance policy and her medical file, got stolen in connection with the case, can be added to the toll of two (2) deceased. My personal details, name known as and artistic name, as well as numbers connected to my personal details, were stolen, too, while I (post-global) was targeted as a cultural producer, an artist and former academic. Was I going to be the third victim? Golden Dawn were originally pagans, drawing from the ancient Greek mythology and ritualistic practices, including human sacrifice. The visual imagery and the art included in the photographs is influenced by the marketing and advertising industry; I brushed shoulders briefly with students in the creative industries teaching at the Winchester School of Art. I used this an ironic commentary on Golden Dawn trying unsuccessfully to create a brand through propaganda, not political marketing. The art world has been traditionally male-dominated. This has not changed dramatically in contemporary art. Female artists have sometimes adopted male attitudes, or personas, to break into the art scene; see Sarah Lucas and Tracey Emin from the YBA movement. I hold the view that art is not gendered, that there is no art for women or so-called women's art. Good art transcends such categories, tapping into more universal experiences. Saying this, I would like to quote Nancy Spero, who doesn't crudely distinguish between male and female art, as follows:"What if the default gender for 'artist' were female? What if, when we looked at a work by a woman, we said to ourselves, "That is art," and when we looked at a work by a man, we automatically identified it in our minds as 'men's art'?" In 1999, I wrote a long essay about the architectural uncanny, which I submitted as my graduation thesis for my first MA in architectural theory. I called it "Space as a 'Bad' Object: A criminal investigation on the notion of space". I got inspiration from detective novels and real-life crime stories. The long essay was about the role of architectural space in crime. It was unsupervised until submission: I received a distinction by a Bartlett staff member. I took the digital photographs in conceptual adherence with that essay. I was a postgraduate philosophy student 9/2017-11/2019 at the University of Amsterdam, Netherlands. In this exposition, I include new photographs from a series of digital photography called "Forensics", taken with my mobile phone, after I was forced to leave the Islington property I was renting, on 27 March 2024. I gave the photography series that name, because it has served the purpose of investigating, recording and tracking a crime, for which architectural space, such as private rentals, has been used. For Chris, my former neighbour, who was suddenly transferred by his employer, from London, where his daughter lives, to somewhere outside of London; and for Lawrence, a second generation immigrant from Nigeria, whose temporary post was prematurely terminated, though he was planning to return to his legal studies. And for Ali. And for Oliver, also my former neighbour. In memory of Howard, also a tenant at Bellview, and former neighbour. To all those who don't just "play" the cultural and racial diversity clause; they don't just rely on identitarian politics, because the class problem has not been resolved for them, either; but also because generalising on identity (for instance religion, race, gender) is an unsophisticated way of preventing strategic and/or tactical alliances, necessary for protecting the rights of minorities or other underprivileged groups and populations. Saying this, the UK must stand up against racism, especially against people of African descent. A Nigerian was among the Golden Dawn victims of assassination in Greece. I was listening frequently to Massive Attack, a British trip-hop band, when I was living in Islington. Sophie Calle is a French writer and photographer, working on themes of identity, intimacy and everyday existence. Her work is partly inspired by the detective fiction genre.

(English below) Eiras kiosk er ein serie med mindre konsertar, lydinstallasjonar og hendingar som blir annonsert kort tid i forvegen og dukkar opp på stadig ulike stader. Kioskserien er utvikla av Eira Bjørnstad Foss og utgjør ein viktig del av det pågåande kunstnarlege forskingsprosjektet "Performer-Curator" ved NTNU, Institutt for musikk. Eiras kiosk: Skattejakt-edition blei spesiallaga til NTNU Artistic Research Week 2024. Saman med publikum utforska kiosken ulike krinkelkrokar i kulturhuset Olavshallen. Skattejakta tok utgangspunkt i, og er nesten ei realisering av, verket "Ear Piece" av den amerikanske komponisten og utøvaren Pauline Oliveros. Eira’s Kiosk is a series of small concerts, sound installations, and events that are announced shortly before they happen, and pop up in various locations. The kiosk series is developed by Eira Bjørnstad Foss, and forms an important part of the ongoing artistic research project, "Performer-Curator," at NTNU, Department of Music. Eira’s Kiosk: Treasure Hunt Edition was specially created for NTNU Artistic Research Week 2024. Together with the audience, the kiosk explored possibilities for experiences in various nooks and crannies of the cultural venue Olavshallen. The Treasure Hunt was based on, and is almost a realization of, the piece "Ear Piece" by the American composer and performer Pauline Oliveros.

This research explores how choreomania - the historical phenomenon of uncontrollable, communal dance “plagues” that emerged in the Middle Ages - can inform and shape my artistic practice. Central to this inquiry is the question: how does choreomania influence my creative process and the way I shape my performance practice as a classically trained pianist? The study unfolds three main blocks. First, an essay examines the conceptual formation of choreomania, its contemporary relevance, and its impact on my artistic work. Simultaneously, I observe and document the creative processes of artists-in-residence during my internship at the residency programme "Choreomania - Bodily Excess, Collective Unrest". The thrid block involves an experimental playground consisting of several performance try-outs, each rigorously documented, analysed, and reflected upon. Adopting a rhizomatic approach, I explore performance-making as a fluid, irregular process. The resulting performances weave together classical piano, improvisation, movement, voice, collaboration, live-electronics, audience engagement, and the submerged elements of choreomania. The research culminates in a synthesis and reflection of the entire process, offering new insights into performance-making.

At the turn of the nineteenth century, cellists were trained to provide chordal continuo realisation for recitativi in various parts of Europe. In other words, when they accompanied an upper voice, players would create a harmonically rich texture to better support the line above them, filling in chords rather than playing single bass notes. My research aims to trace the origins of this practice, examining pedagogical materials from the Neapolitan conservatories at the end of the 1600s. First, we investigate sections of the Montecassino Manuscript MS 2-D-13 (1699), analysing cases when Neapolitan-trained cellists needed to conjure up music beyond the written bass line. Selected works by prominent cello virtuosi and pedagogues of the time (Rocco Greco, Gaetano Francone, and Francesco Supriani) help us grasp how the violoncello gained the possibility of playing sophisticated improvised lines upon a bass and even (dare we say) partimenti. The second part of my research takes us forward in time to the second half of the eighteenth century. We discover how Salvatore Lanzetti and Antonio Guida continued the pedagogical traditions established by the preceding generations of Maestri, crafting methods that trained cellists to employ the rule of the octave in order to get comfortable with chordal improvisation. Ultimately, these explorations aim to suggest how the ground may have been fertilized for the growth of the aforementioned recitativo practices in the late 1700s, treating chordal continuo realisation as a result of a dynamic process across generations rather than an isolated phenomenon.