The Harmony group is an open, performative study group exploring the idea of harmony and its relation to control. It is led by myself, Richard Widerberg, and Valter Nordqvist, based at the art platform Skogen, in Gothenburg, Sweden.

In the fall of 2015, we will focus on the concept of the self organised system under five engagements. The group itself will be a self organised system.

Every meeting is open to new participants and is free of charge. Specific dates and booking can be found at Skogen's website.

In the spring of 2015, we met four times for expeditions, discussions, and performances, studying topics such as chaos, homeostasis, negative feedback, and hierarchies. See here for a summary of those activities.

Our open artist group will meet regularly to investigate the theme “Harmony, Panic, and Collapse,” developing the work started in “Silence, Noise, and Collapse.” We will engage in practical activities concentrated on physical sensory experiences rooted in concrete research about systems, control, and chaos. These will manifest as experiments with, for example, sound, motion, travel, light, structure, and more. The research will be ongoing with the possibility of public events to invite an audience into the process.

Using the notion that the human being is itself a sensor in a system, we will elaborate on the ways in which we can use our capacities to feed back into the chaotic mechanisms steering society. Systems thinking has a broader role in the creative process, the social narratives that dominate our understanding of ourselves, and how technological structures influence our behaviour. We are driven by the complex interactions between ideas and events, and a fundamental element of our exploration will thus be to move our focus and draw lines of inquiry according to results from our research and experiments.

We met four times in the spring, the first meeting took an entire day and the next three were around two hours each. For each meeting attendance was open, which meant that sometimes there were new people for later meetings, or others did not come, however there was a very good number of members continuing through all four meetings, which made the group more cohesive as time went on.

We met in informal settings and tried to keep the study material brief and simple. This allowed for wide-ranging discussions with focused topics. Each meeting was accompanied by dinner, and we thank Skogen for arranging that for us.

Our first meeting was a day-long forest excursion where we got lost on purpose. The second meeting introduced the system of chaotic feedback used by the Norbert Wiener Memorial Feedback Orchestra, and the third meeting offered a chance to perform on it in front of an audience. For the fourth meeting, we took a sauna.

Group leaders were: Valter Nordqvist, Barrie James Sutcliffe, and Richard Widerberg.

First Meeting, April 19: The Harmony Group Gets Lost in a Forest

Our first meeting was intended as a “kick off” of sorts, for everyone in the group to get to know each other but also to face a complex situation head on. New members from the public were solicited via Skogen’s website. We ended up with a group of ten people, some were friends from before and some were new to us. Members knew we were taking a long forest walk, but not where. Some days before the meeting, members were mailed a series of questions to think about in regards to the walk:

What is your relationship with the forest?
What does control mean to you?
How do you use your senses to navigate?
What conditions make you feel harmony, and how do you respond to them?

We met early at the Gothenburg central train station on a Sunday morning on, luckily, the first sunny and hot day of the year. The group leaders then guided the group through the appropriate public transit steps and we eventually ended up in the countryside after spending some time on the bus getting to know each other.

The forest we were aiming for was the same we visited for “Silence, Noise, and Collapse.” Our destination was the fireplace we built deep in the valley there. From the bus stop, up the hill, through the forest, and into the valley, the group was led in silence to the fireplace.

Once reaching the fireplace, we broke the silence and had a bit of a break. The group leaders announced that up to this point, we known where we were going, but from there we would continue into the forest without a clear sense of direction. Lacking mobile phone reception in the wilderness, we only had a poor quality map and a basic compass. The group had thus shifted from being controlled to being on quite equal footing with each other, with a common task to solve.

From that point, the group proceeded to plough through the forest, which was a combination of bog, thick wooded areas, and rugged rocky hills. It was beautiful but more difficult than we had expected, giving us real resistance. The hills and valleys also made it hard to navigate. Ultimately the piloting/steering of the group came down to spotty GPS information but mostly was guided by the compass, up and down valleys until a farming community was finally reached some hours later. The group almost fanned out like a herd at times but it was interesting to notice how technology took the lead.

In the middle of this, we had lunch and our first discussion, which in retrospect should have taken place immediately after the silent walk. Some interesting observations were made, but it was clear that we were all within a certain task that occupied the majority of our attention, and that deep discussion was difficult—it was easier to talk about some historical examples of control and organization, rather than actually interpreting the subject.

In the end the openness of the group made for a great day together, and we returned by bus to Skogen for dinner together and more discussion.

Second Meeting, May 6: The Harmony Group Showers in Feedback

For this meeting the group met at Barrie’s studio in Lindholmen, a post-industrial district in Gothenburg. The studio is in a building that used to be the shower and change rooms for the thousands of men who used to work in the wharf at Götaverken, a shipbuilding and repair company that was among the main industries of Gothenburg during its manufacturing and shipping era. Art studios and technology companies are common uses of post-industrial space and this was no different.

The group was to watch and develop some questions about the second episode of Adam Curtis’ essay series “All Watched Over by Machines of Loving Grace,” entitled “The Use And Abuse Of Vegetational Concepts.” We met in the main level of the studio and had a great discussion about this film after having dinner together. Members raised excellent points which would later lead to the development of our study focus. Topics covered the question of harmony in nature, autocratic power structures, the attraction of conspiracy theories, communes, representational democracy, and more. In general, how different structures of power use or limit the ability of others to feedback into them, enabling change.

After this, the group moved upstairs for the activity stage of the meeting. The upstairs of this particular building is a huge, changing and shower room, untouched since the 70s, filled with lockers, sinks, and washing stalls. Barrie had set up several interconnected feedbacking mixers and large speakers used by The Norbert Wiener Memorial Feedback Orchestra. This was meant as a hands-on activity to get to know some aspects of control, feedback and chaos. Barrie and Valter played the system at high volume, while other group members listened and explored the space. Later they explained the general idea of the system and how to use it, handing control over to other members of the group while still providing some guidance about its use—all the while, of course, making an extremely loud racket.

Third Meeting, May 20: The Harmony Group Performs Hierarchy

This meeting was made in conjunction with a book release at Göteborgs Konsthall for “Den Här Datorn/Virtuella Utopier,” an interpretive history of Swedish computer art written by Valter’s brother Joel and Olle Essvik. Valter, Richard, and Barrie would play with The Norbert Wiener Memorial Feedback Orchestra during the book release - possibly joined by some members of the Harmony Group.

The Harmony Group met an hour before the release to have a dense dinner discussion based on three pieces of study material: an excerpt of the poem “Kaninen rymde” (“The rabbit escaped”) by Jonas Modig (2014); an excerpt of the Wikipedia article about negative feedback (a quote from Ross Ashby); and a series of four questions:

What are hierarchies, and what is freedom in and outside of them?
Can you be independent while still adapting to something?
Do you feel more limited by external structures, or by inner limits or self-constraints?
Do you recognize the idea of negative feedback in some aspects of your life experience?

The focus of this discussion indeed revolved around negative feedback—trying to figure out exactly what it is—and hierarchies, what they are, where they appear, and how they affect our lives. Independence from feedback loops was a key question, as well as the oppression of hierarchies and families and ways to manage them without such negative consequences.

After this discussion, the group were given the choice to perform as a part of an ensemble (the Feedback Orchestra) or be part of the audience. To our surprise, many people went for it and wanted to take part. Earlier in the day Valter, Richard, and I had assembled a relatively large feedback system of mixers and speakers in the antechamber of the Konsthallen. We offered to new “pilots” (people operating the Feedback Orchestra) a preset feedback system that they could control easily, and slowly connected them together over the course of the performance—a hierarchy of sorts. In this way we could ensure that nothing completely insane would happen, and the show ended up being excellent thanks to the new members being so into experimenting with their systems.

Fourth Meeting, June 11: The Harmony Group Takes a Sauna

For this last meeting of the season we met at a sports center in a nature reserve on the east side of Gothenburg. Our plan was to have a good sauna as a way to experience the systems within our body adjusting—the process of homeostasis. Sauna provides a good shock to the system when moving from a very hot room to a very cold pool of water, making the body’s circulation run quickly in order to redistribute heat. Sauna also provides a great place to talk, and is traditionally a venue for discussion in the nordic countries, especially Finland. Men and women split up and had their sauna, then we met up after and had a discussion over dinner in the park. In addition to Wikipedia articles on Homeostasis and Self Control, members we asked to consider:

How do you relate “harmony” to your own body and life experiences?
How do you consciously regulate or control your own experiences in the face of external stimuli?

The discussion started from the contrast between this experience and the previous meeting topic: receiving negative feedback in a social context vs. directly experiencing something with the body. We ranged from self control, balancing mental and bodily states, stress relief, self destructiveness, the historical practice of taking baths and healing illness such as neurasthenia, the concept of neurodiversity, and further on discussion the regulation of people in society deemed “sick” or “insane.” The tricky topic here brought up the difficulty in deciding at what point someone with mental illness needs serious help without compromising their individuality and the uniqueness of their thought process.

After this meeting we took a complete break for the summer, to begin again in fall 2015. Discussion notes from the meetings can be found here.
An orchestra of pilots steering unstable systems.

Following "Silence, Noise, and Collapse," myself, Richard Widerberg, and some of the participants of that performance decided to continue the project and deepen our involvement with these unstable noise systems. Founding members include Cha Blasco, Valter Nordqvist, and Patricia Vane. Our mission statement:

The Norbert Wiener Memorial Feedback Orchestra is an unstable ecosystem, networks of electricity and movement which achieve precarious balance before collapsing into ever new orders. Through chaotic control and feedback we achieve harmony and complexity. The Orchestra is a participatory performance, opening up to new controllers in order to promote biodiversity and communication.

Membership is open and flexible. The Orchestra is also open for workshops in other places to extend our mission. Anyone can pilot an unstable system because mastery is not possible nor necessary.

Photos by BJS, Markus Nordgren

The first performance took place on the 13th December in Bottna, Bohuslän, Sweden, as part of Koloni's day-long festival "Trollsejd och Mörkermakt," in a small house situated in a forest. The audience had just arrived from an hour long forest walk.

Credit: BJS (left), Henrik Landén (right)

“Silence, Noise, and Collapse” was a two-day performance made by Richard Widerberg and myself, with a small group of participants on the 6th and 7th of December, 2014. The first day consisted of a long and silent walk through a dense old forest, punctuated by a campfire conversation about silence and chaos. On the second day participants experienced noise by building unstable electronic systems, leading to a public performance of a new group named “The Norbert Wiener Memorial Feedback Orchestra.” Skogen theatre in Gothenburg hosted us and helped us with some of the production, and it was financed by a grant from the Gothenburg City cultural fund.

The unusual format of the performance allowed us and our participants to have an immersive exploration of the topics and to understand how they interact. Planning for this performance took place over the previous year, and we were focused on examining the dynamic relationship of noise, silence, and instability, what it means to people in the context of society, and the stories we make and are told about order and chaos. We wanted to create a structure where it was possible to explore more than just the simple associations that come to mind when thinking about these subjects. Below you can find more images, sounds, and a detailed description of the two days.


We sought a small group of participants via an open call circulated within the city. Richard and myself would act as guides, and the entirety of the two days were carefully planned. Participants met us at the theatre in the morning of the first day, and we then drove in a transport van to a nearby city, chatting with each other on the way. However, we then stopped at a roadside café, explained that from that point on we would be silent, and the participants were asked to wear blindfolds.

We drove further out into the countryside, the group still blindfolded, to an isolated and rarely visited forest on the top of a mountain. We had chosen this forest several weeks before, after scouting different locations in the Västra Götaland region. It is a surprisingly silent place—free of road noise at its deepest point—and very diverse despite not being a nature reserve of any sort. For the first weekend of December, we were lucky to have such sunny and calm weather, as we were prepared for something much more challenging.

Removing their blindfolds after leaving the van, the group were guided into the forest, where one after another they met a guide who gave them wood and a sitting mat, and were asked to walk further on their own to wait by a lake (though we did not specify how far that would be). After everyone was once again together, we departed the shore for a slow, silent walk into the forest. At the entrance of the forest, some noises from society were still audible. However, over the next hours these noises dropped away as we descended into a lush valley. Throughout this entire time no one was to speak unless it was important. This allowed for an atmosphere of calm concentration, and at various points in the forest we would stop simply to listen.

After having to hop over a couple of streams, we reached as far as was practical, broke our silence, and built a fire together. We provided a simple picnic lunch to cook, and then had a long wide-ranging conversation about silence. We had prepared a series of questions to direct the conversation, but knew that people would provide their own unique ideas as well. Topics covered included the different meanings of silence; noise pollution; preservation of natural spaces and our intrusions within them; rights of animals to have their own silent spaces; people with noise sensitivity; different kinds of mental states; the relation of silence and chaos as a “natural” state; if silence means lack of progress, or if it suggests refinement; questions about the values of being a chaotic person; self-regulation in order to cope with stimuli; silence as restorative but also as dangerous; comparing this to a so-called “silent retreat” and why one would want to purchase a trip to one; if stability is at all possible; and so on. This discussion was meant to fuel thoughts for the second day of the performance.

We extinguished our fire and left the fireplace, aware that it will remain for a long time to come. We resumed our silent hike until we reached the van. Driving back to Gothenburg, most fell asleep because of the long hike and fresh air. Returning to Skogen theatre, we arrived to a freshly warmed sauna in the basement, where we could warm up and relax. We left after, but participants would return the next morning for the second day.


The second day took place entirely within the theatre, a closed and synthetic environment. The weather was incredibly rainy, providing a perfect excuse to stay inside. Over the last months, Richard and I had assembled a large amount of electronic equipment, mixers, speakers, and many cables. We had this set up in the theatre on the morning of the second day. To start things off, we had participants sit or lay down in the dimly lit theatre, while Richard and I performed an extremely loud noise improvisation on the equipment, taking advantage of the theatre’s ample sound system. Wearing ear protection, the group perceived this as a rather comfortable physical experience. Afterward, we engaged the group in another wide conversation, this time about noise and systems. Topics this time included the physical reaction to noise as therapy or terror; losing one’s self in an ecstatic noise; defining noise versus other sound; the obsession with keeping noise and chaos at bay; the science of control systems; how society is built upon controlled systems and their supposed stability; questioning the self-regulating system and stability in general; is balance natural; whether we look at chaos differently now than we used to; whether balance exists in nature or not; and more.

Participants were then introduced to the equipment: how it works, how it is set up, and how to connect it. Quite simply the set up was many individual audio mixer boards, each wired to produce internal feedback. This feedback is chaotic and difficult to predict, yet the nature of a mixer allows it to be manipulated and controlled in a creative way. We all engaged in a “free play” of our electronic instruments but further, and crucially, the group was shown that each mixer could be connected with another by both sending its own signal and receiving another. By interconnecting all the mixers with a mass of cables, the creation of a large feedback instrument—controlled by several people at once—is possible. Moving between consoles, the participants came to understand that the feedback system travels throughout the system and could be controlled from several points. These points, however, are constantly changing. While absolute control was impossible, a collective improvisation grew from selective, subjective control. In this system, noise and order is certain to collapse, yet both group work and individual action allows for the creation of new orders. The complexity of the system and its inherent instability allows for a boundless range of sound textures.

Photos: Henrik Landén. First image shows myself (left) and Richard Widerberg (right).

We would perform on this system for an audience in the evening, and together as a group decided on a way to present. In addition to a simple program for our performance, we also agreed to present to the audience some keywords related to our two days together, to be written on large sheets of paper before the audience. Ahead of the performance the theatre provided dinner, during which all the pictures taken during our forest walk were projected.

The performance itself can be seen in the pictures and also heard below. We began in darkness, with only very quiet sounds coming from many small speakers. Slowly we built up, raising the light level as the volume increased and transferred to the larger amplifiers and speakers, reaching a high volume for only a moment.

After the concert, we talked with the audience about the performance and answered their questions. We offered for them to try out the system, and to our surprise everyone was very interested and many people played with the instruments (above), resulting in a second recording this time made by the audience.

While that was the end of our two-day adventure, it ended with the creation of a performance group, The Norbert Wiener Memorial Feedback Orchestra—named after the famous cybernetic theorist—which includes Richard and myself as well as some of those who participated in this event. We will continue to perform in the future and hopefully have more events like this. See the dedicated page on this website for more.

At the beginning of November 2014, just after returning from exhibiting in the UK, I began a four-day in-gallery residence at Two Little Birds, a café/gallery in central Gothenburg.

They had invited me earlier in the year to the "Chain Reaction," a series of consecutive four-day residences by four different artists. Each artist was to work on art and themes the previous artist had started (with exception of the first, of course). I was the second guest. I picked up a theme of travel from the previous artist, and having just been traveling, ran with that, altering the things she left in the gallery to suit and making new wall drawings.

Each day I did something different, working for about 6 or more hours, as it was a very nice place to work, especially with the changing audience of a café.

In addition to drawing I also presented sound. At the entrance to the gallery I had two portable radios hanging on each side of the door frame. I had set up an FM radio station transmitting my album "Hate Lurks in Quiet Spaces," and guests could borrow the radios to hear it, using their headphones if they wished.

I had also taken one of my large old tube radios into the gallery, and tuned it to various noisy frequencies in the AM band until I found an interesting one towards the end of the band. This one had dynamic, irregular bursts of some kind of electromagnetic noise. These sounds turned out to be the sound of tram motors starting up at the large tram interchange 300m away from the café! This was a nice way to bring a kind of local sound we normally can never hear into the space.

Photo: Richard Widerberg

On the final day of my residence I invited Richard Widerberg into the gallery. During this time we had been planning our performance "Silence, Noise, and Collapse" so I suggested we have a work meeting at the gallery. After the meeting we set up a sound system and many electronic instruments, practicing some of our ideas for the performance.

I left all of my drawings in the gallery for the next artist, and was really happy to see how she had altered them (unfortunately I have no pictures of that yet).

The day after I completed the first version of "The Room is Growing," I took a radio transmitter, some radios, microphones, and a camera with me and decided to explore the abandoned parts of the factory with sound. In the night, I went between rooms placing radios in several hard to reach places and transmitted to them. Almost a year later, here is the result—an odd hybrid of field recording and black metal. It was exhibited from Nov 22 to Dec 14, 2014, at Konstepidemin Gothenburg's web gallery.

Hate thrives on its own, unchallenged by different opinions. It likes the loneliness of homogeneity, seeking only other hate, proud of its own shallow convictions. Hate is discreet, afraid, and is easily missed because it is often quiet, waiting in the shadows. Hate is pathetic and ignorant, but not innocent. Only by calling hate forward can it can be challenged, an irritating and constant effort. In this struggle, it is easy to hate the haters, joining them at their own game in a meaningless and futile race to the bottom.

A study of the grim feelings brought about by loneliness and isolation, but also on the sonic character of different types of spaces, large and small.

Created entirely from a single sample. All tracks recorded during the night of Dec 8, 2013 in various snowy, damp, and dilapidated rooms in Fengersfors Paper Factory at the Not Quite artist center in Dalsland, Sweden. Mixed and mastered Autumn 2014.

This album has dynamics. Your stereo has a volume control—use it.

More pictures and other projects can be found at
released 22 November 2014

Barrie James Sutcliffe: FM radio transmitter, digital playback device, multiple radio receivers placed in different locations, live stereo field recordings.

A new version of my previous installation was presented in the city of Cardiff, Wales on October 25, 2014, and ran until the 5th November. On the first day of the exhibition I performed live for approximately three and a half hours. Nearly all sound was recorded and was replayed into the space for the remainder of the exhibit. An album of this is forthcoming.

More than anything else this installation emphasizes a room in such a way that it seems like you experience more than just the room itself, but in almost every respect this effect is entirely due to the features of the room itself which are not normally taken advantage of. See below for more information.

This iteration was installed in the boiler room of the old Customs and Immigration Building in Cardiff Bay. The building had been abandoned for at least forty years but had been locked up, and thus was mercifully free of vandalism. I was part of the group exhibition "Paradise Lost" involving dozens more artists who performed and installed all over the same building. It was arranged by art collective tactileBOSCH and part of the city wide event "Cardiff Contemporary." The opening was a great success with hundreds attending.

The basement of the building contained several rooms which were occupied by a few more artists and added to the sense of oppressive yet insular atmosphere this environment offered. The boiler room itself was much smaller than the steam engine room of the previous installation, and its hard concrete sound made for a different experience. As before, I played loud drone music on analog synthesizers, but the short echo of the room transformed it into a kind of minimalistic techno. Tuned to different resonant frequencies of the room, the sound was a felt physical experience. Risking getting dirty, touching different objects in the room gave the audience more ways to experience the vibrations. The level of smoke levels changes in the room over time, either at the behest of whoever is controlling the smoke machine, or simply due to the winds blowing through the many holes in the building.

Not only light, sound, and smoke, for this room I also spent some time to unearth different objects from the rubble and placed them in the installation to recall the space's original use. Making such a work also involved considerable effort to bring electricity to a ruined house (thanks to the crew for that), so in various places I used features of the room as cable supports, emphasizing the presence of something new in the building.

The building itself was once part of Cardiff's booming port, and was just one of many stately administration centres and banks built in the Victorian era thanks to the coal trade from Wales.

Thanks to Paul, Helene, Beth, John, Aly, and the rest of the team in Cardiff. Last photo by Av Padda.

I was invited by the folks at Fabriksg. 48 in Gothenburg to be involved in their inaugural exhibition "Mackan," with three other artists all making work on the theme of the sandwich. The one-day event took place on the 30th August, 2014.

Being an avid maker of sandwiches myself, I decided to do a sandwich-making performance, in addition to displaying several sandwiches. I offered one and only one sandwich, no modifications, but gave it away for free. It is a recipe I use quite often, a filling and tasty stand-by.

The sandwiches presented were all variations on that one sandwich, altered to fit the needs of various fad diets. They are essentially very cheap jokes about food and the people who define themselves by the food they eat. I find picky eating to be interesting and frustrating, and decided to deal with those issues by offering sandwiches for free to the gallery goers, knowing full well that the art community have amongst themselves some of the pickiest eaters known to man. It is interesting that everyone, including myself, has some particular dietary need or preference, so rarely is anyone ever truly satisfied with what another can offer.

People were generally more accepting than annoyed that I would refuse to alter my recipe. The sandwich was free after all—when something is free in a market economy, the customer does not get to call the shots. This can relate to all sorts of other free services we use in our society today, and how that can compromise our personal integrity.

The recipes:

Thanks to Annie, Maya, and Anders. The first set of photos were taken by Ina Marie Winther Åshaug.
The title of this performance comes from this wonderful song by Citizen Blast Kane.

At the start of December 2013 I was invited to take part in an event involving several artists at the Not Quite arts centre, which is in a semi-abandoned paper factory in Fengersfors, Sweden.
We arranged a day of performances and installations throughout the factory space called "Knycklabruket," held together by a theatrical guided tour. "The Room is Growing" was my contribution - a live sound and light installation taking over the entire steam engine room (and part of the boiler room).

The sounds were performed live over the course of about four hours, for five separate tours. The clangs and rattles that can be heard are from the different pieces of abandoned machinery in the room vibrating.

The installation was performed again in October 2014 in Cardiff, Wales (see separate post), further refining the ideas of sensory experience this work introduced.

Live analog electronics, no sampling or looping. Mixed from a single stereo location recording.

Thanks to Chris Porcarelli and Karl Hallberg at Not Quite, and all the supporting artists during the event.
Special thanks to Henrik Lövgren.

NOTE: The sound is mastered with plenty of dynamics, but the constant drone is enough to give temporary hearing damage after extended loud listening on either headphones or large speakers in a small room. Be careful with bass, friends.

Slavestate Magazine (in Swedish): "... Just like a strong theater production, book, or film experience, "The Room is Growing" is not only what it seems, in this case an album, but is rather a complete physical experience."
This is a text project that may branch itself out into other manifestations. But now that I am done the final draft of the text, I thought it would be worth sharing as the discussion around these topics is quite active right now.

Like a student drilled and assessed only on a checklist of metrics, starved of real experience, knowledge, and self-growth, the role of the artist today is in a similar kind of bind—be creative individuals, but within the rules.

Artists, and people more generally, are trapped within a narrow definition of freedom and creativity, a mockery of human ingenuity used solely to provide market gains or to support the status quo with vague assertions of its own virtue. "Creative" is now a word associated more with a glorified advertising worker than for an independent artist. Likewise, an artist should now be seen as a precarious "entrepreneur" competing in a cut-throat capitalist market of scarcity.

This situation deprives society of the real value artists provide to reveal alternative realities. In this text I satirically, and hopefully humorously, enumerate some of the rules as I perceive them, a suffocating and impossible to fulfill parade of responsibilities—some reasonable and some not—burdened entirely on the individual.

While the art world makes grand claims of having a cutting-edge, critical, and progressive nature, in most cases one must be a very particular kind of person to truly succeed in it. I've made no direct comments in the text about race, class, gender, disability, sexuality, or social privilege, but these questions can be considered implicit in many of the statements by their exclusivity.

The artist's role in society is complex, and is not well served by attempting to fit art practice into the demands of the status quo. In so doing we are left with weak art and artists who are unable to adequately adapt after being turfed out from the market when their usefulness to a fickle power structure runs dry. Truly independent art should operate outside the status quo, directly challenging its inequalities, celebrity worship, and narrow utilitarianism, rejecting complicity in its idea of what art and artists should be.

At the beginning of 2013 I was asked to contribute an article for a great web project called Forage Press, run by Tomi Lahdesmaki.

I chose my article to be about drone music and its material power, which I contributed to with charcoal drawings, text, and a music list. You can go to Forage for the full article.
A work-in-progress, this is an installation built from a Radiola M40 radio from 1927.

The project is on hiatus, but aims to have audio material developed by myself and Clara Gustavsson, as well as to elaborate the installation with more multi-media material. You can hear an early sound idea below created for a one-day installation at Textival, Gothenburg, in March 2012.

I like to sit my practice somewhere in between nostalgia and talismanic fetish. The work recalls the past but, in its sculptural alteration, at the same time suggests the past as a dream-state that can never be returned to, a notion that can only be re-created in the moment by the observer. We are confronted with the object's properties, function, physical characteristics and embodied power, and how this affects our sensibilities of the present. A radio is a way to conjure into noise the silent waves passing through our bodies.