How do we perform ourselves in the digital realm? What started out as an innocuous and somewhat simple question on the general practicalities of online music and art making has become, in the past four years, a deep analysis on my own relationship with the technological world. Performing oneself digitally cannot be encapsulated in simply understanding strains of binary data or tastefully using latency as a composition tool. From my perspective, this question opened up a sort of Pandora’s Box of social inquiry and analysis. In the end, performing ourselves means performing ethnicity, gender, sexuality, cultural identity…

The focus of this paper is the relationship between body and technology. The way technology has become ingrained in our daily lives is undeniable. But how can face, skin, organs, gut, bones and cells be translated into digital information? What is lost in the process of translation? One quick search on translating mistakes from the widely used “Google Translate” can easily showcase a variety of lapses which range from mildly funny to borderline offensive.² But most important perhaps is asking how this close relationship with technology has affected the way we perceive ourselves.

The methodology employed in this paper combined literature review, creation of original artwork, analysis of artwork, and self-reflection. In my literature, I tried to be attentive as much as possible to whose voices I was choosing to include. Issues of representation were constantly on my mind and finding a balance between male, female and gender non-conforming authors was fundamental. Each part of the paper includes the presentation of the theoretical background I engaged with and an artistic work of mine that related to the ideas exposed in the chapter.

Following a chronological order from my move  to The Netherlands in 2019, this research firstly addresses my discontentment  with my music-making before 2019. I wasn’t able to clearly transmit my sound ideas which made me question if I should even be in the music realm at all. Understanding that the fault lay in how I was approaching music making in a “system of pitches and rhythms” way was essential to begin changing how I engaged with artistic creation. The concept of “lattice” as described by Trevor Wishart helped me be aware of my over-reliance on discrete systems that didn’t allow for the exploration of the “in-between” and that shifted the focus of composition to creating relations between notes, chords and form. In this section, my piece Twitch_Plays_Max, an internet sound installation, is analysed as an example of one of my first attempts to escape the “lattice” and show how the digital realm could support this escape.

Subsequently, historical perspectives on the relationship between media and humanity are discussed. Marshall McLuhan’s ideas of “The media is the message” and “Media as extensions of humans” are analysed. These provided an initial framework that kick-started my interest in how technology shapes the human experience of the world, and of one another. A critique on his work is also present that reflects on how McLuhan was very much a product of his time, and, therefore, his ideas might be outdated regarding ethical codes. The piece discussed in this section is being with You, in Unity, for a flexible number of players, which picks up on discussions on how electronic devices influence human interactions. In this piece, the performers use a tablet to receive musical material in the form of pictures and press buttons to send requests to one another.

The third part of this paper introduces Caroline Nevejan’s idea of “being-witness-to-each-other”, for me, a natural follow-up from analysing how people change their behaviour when engaging with digital media. The main point I want to underline in this part is that even when engaging, or “witnessing”, people that are not physically with us, we are still emotionally invested in them. Some of the work of psychologist Sherry Turkle and anthropologist Marc Augé is mentioned, always related to  the topic of witnessing. Can we feel touch when we’re made of light is a piece for two performers and live electronics which reflects on these subjects. The main question of the piece is “Can beams of matter-less light accurately translate our very matter-full bodies?”, alluding to the fact that the Internet is in actuality hundreds of kilometres of fibre-optic cable deep in the ocean floor.

Finally, the paper ends with a small manifesto. The research work made prior to this part coalesces in a description of what I appreciate when making art and performing, as well as my views on what (digital) embodiment means to me and how it relates to my Queer existence. It first praises the women who were behind the development of digital media as we know it, thus, in my view, paving the way for the Internet to be a space where non-normative bodies can be empowered. Following that, I reflect on how when physical places fail to welcome non-normative bodies, we must resort to finding our own places. In my particular case, I speak of the digital realm. Valuable writings by people who are part of the trans and gender non-conforming communities are discussed. These supported a different view on what it means to be embodied, both online and offline. The chapter ends with a reflection on two pieces: Flesh is a dead format, for percussion and performer with sensors, and The other day, a work-in-progress for ensemble, voice and narrator. These pieces put forward two different perspectives on how one can use technology to empower oneself.

Throughout this exposition, I have chosen to use an oscilloscope as an unifying graphic and visual identity. As a machine, the oscilloscope is merely a tool employed to probe voltage changes in an electrical current but when I was able to represent images on it, namely my own face, it became a symbol of the possible layers of transformation and translation that my biological body could pass through. Indeed, I could have simply used a digital oscilloscope emulator and saved myself the trouble of having to walk around with an oscilloscope when I have to perform. However, by having the physical object - which has a distinct retro feeling to it - present in the space, the message it conveys is not merely relating to the “sonification” of my face: the message becomes that as a human being I can extend my existence with the aid of technology, even technology which is not based on digital systems. Or that, at least, is my intention.

This paper was one of the hardest tasks that I have ever had to complete. The amount of personal analysis that I put into it was oftentimes confronting and uncomfortable. But this is rather the beauty of artistic research. The way I see it, what differs artistic research from “normal” academic research is the possibility to engage with ourselves in a direct and deep way, the same way that our art reflects us in a direct manner. The purpose is not to scientifically prove something, to reach a final answer of yes or no, or right or wrong. Those are binary attitudes that do not, I suggest, represent the modern human experience. As artists, I believe we must embrace the nuanced reality we live in, and part of it is doing (artistic) research that can lead to no simple answers, is extremely personal, and sometimes contradicts itself. This way, we create research that allows other people to get to know us. Not as scientists or academics, but as human beings. It is my hope that this very personal approach to the subject at hand stimulates others to question their own personal relationship with the digital.