Sound Data Patches
Modular noise patches composed from graphic scores. An abstract etching is read by machine vision as notation — every stem, dot, ring and filled block becomes an event with a pitch, a duration and a place in the stereo field — and the resulting patch is projected back onto a moving image, which then modulates what it is playing. Score, image and sound are held in one feedback loop: the picture is both the surface the notation falls on and the performer reading it. Each work runs as a palindrome — forward, backward, forward, backward — so the score is always heard twice, and never the same way twice.
Electromagnetic Fields
A forest that writes its own score, heard as natural radio.
A dark forest threaded with luminous filaments and drifting field lines. Here the image writes its own score. Machine vision traces its glowing threads, arcs, knots and sparks, redraws them as etched graphic notation, and projects that score back onto the forest. Read left to right and back again, the marks sound as natural radio: dawn-chorus chirps climbing each filament, whistlers gliding along the field lines, tweeks and the crackle of distant lightning, all over the 50 Hz hum of the trees.
Single-channel video with stereo sound, 1080 × 1350, 35.5 s loop, 2026. Generative sound from a graphic score extracted from the moving image by computer vision; also realised as a Pure Data patch.
Single-channel HD video with stereo sound, 1080 × 1350, 21 s loop, 2026.
Generative sound: modular noise patch driven by computer-vision analysis of the score and the image.
A luminescent flower-body blooms and is sounded as a spectre of inharmonics. Here the noise gives way to clusters of detuned partials on a stretched, bell-like series — chords that breathe, low clusters that sink, strikes that arrive slowly instead of ringing out. As the bloom luminesces, the upper partials glow with it: the light in the image tilts the spectrum, and what returns is less a sound made of the flower than a flower making the sound.
The same etched score, read this time as photosynthesis. Every mark opens slowly, holds, and takes just as long to close; the strikes become swells, breaths and blooms, hanging in a dark delay so nothing quite ends before the next thing begins. Jellyfish, seed pods and spectrograms drift under the projected notation, their changing light distributed across six listening bands, so the image's brightness is the bed the sound grows in.