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The Ecstasy of Medi[t]ation explores the diverse interrelations between the current nomadic life in public transportation and the constant contamination with the mobile phone. Through the whole work, the sound of electro-magnetic radiation of a mobile phone is used to inscribe the intimate, contagious, and also meditative nature of the mobile phone utilisation in our lives.

The Ecstasy of Medi[t]ation also draws inspiration from two texts. One of them is “The Ecstasy of Communication” (1987) by Jean Baudrillard. He discusses the contemporary loss of public space that overlaps with the constant loss of private space. Baudrillard states that “[t]he most intimate processes of our life become the virtual feeding ground of the media.” This insight is investigated in the work through the interaction between the tactile sounds and the constantly mutating radiation flow that creates a certain digital epidermis for both the protagonist and the listener of the work. In a way, this digital epidermis is the joint skin that oscillates between the radio listener and the sounding events in the work. Additionally, some features in the sound processing in this work treat the radio as a fragile and organic surface, as a visceral mediatisation of the intimate memories, dreams, thoughts and unconsciousness of humans.

The other inspiring text is Donna Haraway’s “Cyborg Manifesto” (1991), and particularly its’ chart of dichotomies in the context of “the informatics of domination.” Instead of essential properties, Haraway suggests to think the dichotomies “in terms of design, boundary constrains, rates of flows, system logics, costs of lowering constrains.” The simultaneously spoken dichotomies emanate within the transforming spaces/states of the audible presents/pasts.

The Ecstasy of Medi[t]ation was chosen to the Prix Phonurgia Nova 2013 listening seances.



Under the Bridge at 66°34 N

Under the Bridge at 66°34 N is an unedited field recording that I made in Rovaniemi, Northern Finland. While sitting on the riverside (Ounasjoki river), I started to listen to the expansion joints of the bridge on the highway 4.

A random “percussion” that were created by the loud rhythms of the joints fragmented beautifully the continuous flux of the truck traffic.

I went under the bridge, and under these joints and recorded  through the water pipe that transmitted the sounds from the surface of the bridge.



Originally published at Green Field Recordings Sound Compilation “World Listening Day 2013”

Breathing has been one of my favorite topics both in sound and text for years. “Breathing into the Tubes” project  that I made a couple of years ago with a visual artist friend has been haunting me since, in a way or another. We visited several times at the neonatal intensive care unit in University Hospital of Helsinki,  in order to record the sounds of the neonatal ventilation machines and to film the spaces (no babies in the film though).  Our aim (I guess) was to explore the fragile intimacy encapsulated in this overwhelming environment: bright lights, loud machine sounds, flux of diverse people in their endless caring acts.

Right after the visits and the movie editing process I wrote about the recording sounds in this environment:

“The frenetic struggle between breathing and non-breathing (from my flute-playing past) invades my flesh again in the neonatal intensive care unit.  Listening to the exhalation. Recording the exhalation. Sensing the exhalation. Anticipating the exhalation. Anticipating the inhalation, which will happen. Inhalation always happens. Finding myself swaying to the rhythm of the cyborgian inhale-exhale flow that is generated by the ventilators. The beating of mechanical air creates a particular tangible space around the tiny neonatal baby lying anaesthetized on the bed.This space diffuses its tactile-aural care-control nurturance in the air, which makes the doll-sized naked chest tremble softly.

But I cannot look at the baby.

Instead, I try to concentrate on recording. I force my ears to listen to the frequencies and the timbres of the machine pulse between us, the baby and me. I protect myself with the microphone and headphones. With them I dare to encounter the cyborg neonatal, at least in those sound vibrations. With my microphone and headphones I form a fluid coating, a mucous membrane that gently touches the fragile lines of flight between the neonatal baby and the ventilator. As a mucous membrane I can tamper the dense, intense and limpid extension of air that moves through the tubes and reaches the miniature lungs of the neonatal baby. As a mucous membrane I am able to feel what the nurse tells me about this particular trembling ventilator machine, how it subtly pushes the air to the lowest parts of the baby’s lungs. The streaming meshwork of air nourishes the medical machines and prostheses that nourish the baby.

At the moment of recording as sensing, the cyber-projected vibrating of the neonatal visceral depths with their adherent genesis and digital interiors contaminates me. My breathing infiltrates the air that steams through the plastic tubes. “


Skinscape(s) is an aural-tactile close-up on the intimacy of tattooing, on the contagious warmth of the skin, the pain/pleasure continuum, and on the immersive touch of sound/sound of touch.

Very proud to be in Museruole with this piece.

“MuseRuole is a festival dedicated to experimental music and puts contemporary female musicians and performers at its centre. It is a journey of discovery into the wide world of current musical research, looking for specifically female modes of expression, with its own grammar and personal style. This year (2013) we focus on the theme of radio as a space for musical research and a medium of technological innovation, including notions of sending and receiving in equal measure.
Even today radio is an important method of communication: it remains one of the most powerful, cheapest, accessible and world spanning of media. Despite its long history and being one of the first mass media of the last century, radio has always been able to renew itself, adapting to changing realities and remaining in step with the future. And so radio is an instrument of disseminating knowledge as well as a research space for new technologies and formats: as a global platform it offers the possibility to develop innovative networks and ways to connect.”


Sound work My Most Intimate Diary initiated from curiosity to own consuming habits.  For two weeks I collected all the receipts of my purchases, and I found that I mostly buy food. On the receipts, as organised in strict lines and expressed through diverse measure units, the everyday food items started to seem as crucial evidences of the choices that deeply resonate to various ethical, economical, social and embodied motives.

So I recorded my reading of those receipts. 

In addition to that, the sound material of the work consists of the electromagnetic radiation sounds of fridge and cell phone.   Since getting the special microphone that records the electromagnetic radiation from my colleague, I’ve been immersed into the mesmerizing buzz(es) of the diverse domestic machines.

Repetition (towards the very numb tautology), swirling, and the shape of the circuit seemed obvious in My Most Intimate Diary.  The histories of our consuming, and our existence through consuming, the making of endless choices, are inscribed (besides the receipts) into the curves of our data bodies and the folds of virtual databases. Our consuming vibrates as electromagnetic radiation.