Today found my way to the Saana. I did not go to far but tomorrow, I will go out sooner. I also found myself with the immediate urge to measure. How late can I be out? When does the sun set? How far away can I walk? How much clothes do I need to put on? How cold is it? Have I brought everything I need? When I first thought about it, it made me fell silly. After a while, I thought to realize that that perhaps one of the reasons I was asking these types of questions is because my perception in a way, is completely numb. This supposition really striked me, I start to think and respect the work of Olafur Eliasson from a different perspective now.




I listened to Circles and Landscapes by Jürg Frey. Couldn’t be more perfect.


I ventured as far as the Lake. Having a hard time in calculating distances.

Found a drum-kit at the station.



In recent years, the concept of atmosphere has become more and more present for scholars of different academic disciplines in the humanities and arts. Questions in regards to how they are staged, on their ongoing effect in the lives of people ranging from the individual to the collective, and their ontological status; are some of the discussions that have risen. Although they are indeterminate, ambiguous and difficult to grasp, it cannot be overlooked that atmospheres play an important role in the shaping of the social and the political.

Atmosphere, has been my main line of inquiry for the last year and a half. A journey I have approached swinging from theory to practice, back and forth. The last 10 weeks I have spent in Berlin theoretically studying the concept and experiencing the work of Danish-Icelandic artist Olafur Eliasson, who I am researching for a PhD in Art History. Now, I start my artistic residency in Ars Bioartica; the pendulum is on the other side.

It is needed to say, to surpass the traditional dichotomy of the subject and object, that atmospheres are not inherent to the existence of things; but rather the in-between that emerges from their co-presence. In the words of German philosopher Gernot Böhme ecstasies are the way in which something goes forth from itself, or the way something makes its presence perceptible. Atmosphere therefore, emerges as an inseparable whole within a specific time-space.

It is my hypothesis that the current importance of staging atmospheres in artistic practices today, may lead to further exploration of perception and experience through contemporary art. It is my belief, that this may take place, by means of the augmentation of the ecstasies of the natural. The question is how this magnification may come to being in the staging, to account for a significant sensory experience.

I intend to produce a soundscape in coproduction  with the environment. A Korg MS 20 mini analog synthesizer and a DIY Whistler Radio that my friend, colleague, scientist and hacker extraordinaire Cristian Delgado helped me built will play an important part in that purpose. Cristian will be the mind on the scientific and technological part of the research. I will be leaving the radio in the environment, at least one kilometer away from anything that may interfere or contaminate the reception of low frequency waves of the natural.

I have to clarify that the focus of this research-practice is to explore the concept of the in-between (atmosphere) by centering the attention on the ecstasies of the environment as a gesture, and on my own perception and experience; instead of  the objective being an analysis of what the Whistler Radio can collect.  Cristian will design a program to transform the low frequency waves that are recorded in text code, to something that I can then use in Ableton Live for the production of the soundscape. This is as much as I can plan.

I need to add that during the first week of residency I am completely alone at the biological station from 16:00 forward. I also need to add, that I’m from Mexico City, one of the most populated cities in the planet.  It has a year round average temperature of 18°C.  Being in a place like the artic during winter, couldn’t be more extreme in contrast to my everyday experience of the world. A fact to sum to the adventure is that I lost my metabolism and antidepressant medication on my way from Berlin to the Finish Lapland.

I got to see very variable landscapes on my two-day camping trip to Norway. Like any other pretty place, the coastal Norway can be difficult to photograph in a more interesting way. The red cabins, turquoise sea and sandy beaches are normally too pretty and picturesque for (my) art purposes; they make great postcards though. I’ll share a set of “tourist” photos I took as the ones I may use for art projects still need editing.

The sandy beach in Ersfjord on the island of Senja. The island is a bit like a mini version of the Lofoten Islands that can be found further south. I’ve been to the Lofoten Islands many times, but this was my first trip to Senja. The coastal road on the island has a status of National Tourist Route and it was well worth the drive. Some of the roads on Senja are very narrow and curvy (which is typical for Norway in general), so exploring the island took me one full day even though the drive wasn’t that long in kilometers.

Salmon farming in Botnhamn. The harbour in Botnhamn had a very aggressive tern colony and eating lunch by the harbour pier was a bit hazardous, but I avoided their sharp beaks. I saw a few people catch many mackerels from the pier and the sea seemed to be filled with life, so I’m not surprised the terns had chosen to nest nearby!

I spent the night in a tent, but didn’t bother with a proper campsite. I found a really nice place with views to the sea and faraway blue mountains. Falling asleep wasn’t easy because the sun kept shining very late and some insects that had gotten caught between the inner and outer tent fabrics made lazy, but quite loud buzzing sound. The most annoying fly can be seen in the picture below – I had very little to do while waiting for sleep, so I passed time by photographing the tent ceiling. I tried to kill the fly for my art project “Side Catch” that involves collecting insects, but it always got away.

I’ve already returned home, but I’d like to thank the people behind the residency program for giving me the opportunity to work and spend time in the inspiring Lapland landscapes.

TRINGA is a kaleidoscopic audio/visual experiment taking inspiration from a field recording of the constant repetitive alarm call of the Common Greenshank (Tringa nebularia) which is often heard on the tundra lakes and pools.

The varying lichen types depicted have played a fundamental role in this environment. Known as a ‘Pioneer Species’ lichens were the primary life forms to colonise the bare rocks left after the last ice age. By breaking down the rocks into the first soil they enabled further organisms, plants and animals to establish and the entire arctic ecosystem to develop.

(Click on image to watch)


Exploratory creative fieldwork in Artic Lapland, beginning with the mediums of ‘extended-technique’ sound recording and macro and micro visual study.

I have so far spent my stay on the residency with a thorough and intensive period of gathering and documenting the surrounding landscape and environment.

Exploring the themes of scale and our perceived position in the natural environment are recurring themes in my work, with the Kilpisjärvi Biological Station being an ideal base from which this creative fieldwork methodology can be developed. I am fascinated by the notion of alternative landscape study. By this I mean I find the observation and documentation of environments both visually and acoustically on another scale but our own, a thoroughly inspiring way in which to appreciate our natural surroundings. In the broadest possible sense I would say it perhaps enables the observer to reconsider the interconnectedness of the natural world and our place within it, and to find beauty in the often insignificant and seemingly mundane.

Microscopic studies from Lake kilpisjärvi water

My main intention while here has been to gather, explore and experience, rather than to finish a final body of work while on location. By using perhaps seemingly disparate combinations of macro sound recordings, microscopic visuals and macro photography as avenues for inspiration and development I am hoping to complete some work which would primarily take on an audio/visual format.

Recording made at 13/07/15 at 16:20 Saana/Jehkas valley

Meltwater extract #1

Recording made 18/07/15 at 16:30 Skirhasjohka tributary 

Meltwater extract #2

My time on the program so far has been really quite inspiring, with a short hike in any direction being very rewarding with the fells of Saana and Jehkas and the Malla Nature reserve being instantly accessible. The varied local habitats of lake, tundra, bogs, fells and mountain birch woods are such a pleasure to explore (even if the mosquitoes are sometimes a little hard to handle) and the constantly changing (and perpetual!) light over these landscapes adds all the more magic.

I have also met some inspirational fellow artists and residents, and upon arrival received a hospitable and warm welcome from mentor Leena Valkeapää.

In some ways visiting this quite extreme northern landscape as a sound recordist has been quite a challenge, sometimes for my pre-amps battling with the extremely quiet and distant sounds which the human ear has an amazing ability to pick out, but prove difficult to capture ‘on tape’ without a bed of hiss. But there is something about this sonic environment, which because of its sparseness and subtlety I feel I am more conscious of the small and the almost silent, and I am reminded of the importance of a listening experience in its own right as a means to inform my work.

I will be posting a couple more of my observations and ideas here in the coming week but as I have spent the last several weeks here I have created a dedicated blog as to serve as a more detailed record of my time. This can be found HERE.

Two days ago I photographed almost the entire herbarium collection that is kept at the biological station. Some of the plants are over 50 years old and they’ve lost most of their colour, but the collection is otherwise in a fairly good condition. I believe the plants were collected by students and they are used as teaching material on some of the more basic plant courses. Collection data was generally missing, but I didn’t need it.

I wanted to see if I could use the plants as a basis for my own “generic” photo herbarium. There are more than 1200 vascular plant species in Finland, but most people walk in nature without realizing the high level of biodiversity around them. I got my first plant guide when I was about seven years old and I can still remember how the world seemed to grow bigger when I realized a “hay” is not just a hay. I learned some of the scientific names, such as Phleum pratense, Calamagrostis arundinacea and Festuca pratensis, and the fanciful names made me look at all species with a bit more respect – even the most common weeds had such fine names they had to be worthy! Later I of course came to understand that scientific names aren’t there to impress people, but they form a practical and clever system.

I wanted, in a way, to return the isolated plant individuals back together – although I have to say my meadow combines species from very different habitats and is therefore very imaginary. The specimens were mounted on beige carton which may not work very well because contrast between the faded plants and the carton is so low. This is only a tentative experiment since my laptop can’t handle very large files and image editing requires a better screen. I used Photoshop to layer many of the hay-like species (excluding the Cyperaceae species) I found in the collection, so that all the images are put together in order to create an impression of a meadow.

The biological station has also another collection that is more bizarre than the herbarium. In the dark basement there is a room called “mouse museum” that exhibits skins and skulls of many rodent (and other small mammal) species. Some of the skin specimens hang on the walls, but there are also a cabinets that have skulls and stuffed animals. The stuffed creatures resemble living animals only remotely since they have been simply filled with cotton etc. instead of being properly taxidermied. I found this collection intriguing and spent many hours trying to get the most out of it. Here are a few general photos from the museum:

All sounds recorded with piezo disks and/or hydrophone.

Streaming 6 minute link: 

The first week out of my two weeks here has almost passed and I’m starting to regret I didn’t apply for a longer period. I’ve spent most of my time collecting different things: mosquitos, seashells and polypores – the latter are for a biology course I’m undertaking in university, as I am not only an artist but also a biology student. Mosquitos and landscapes are the main reason why I’m here, but so far I’ve caught surprisingly few mosquitos. I’m not going to complain about that, though, since for once outdoor activities don’t feel like a torture which is usually the case in Lapland during summer months. The mosquitos that try to bite me (or at least the ones that don’t escape) will end up into my private insect collection and multiple exposure photographs. Both of these will be a part of a larger project that involves using many different insect species.

The weather has been nice apart from a few rainy days, but I am still waiting for the “perfect” photography light. Unlike in the coastal Norway the weather doesn’t change so often here, so I wonder if my time will run out. I’m thinking of doing a few day excursion to Norway as a precaution, as I believe I’ll have better luck there.

The other resident of the house (Tom) and I already did a short day trip to Norway. First we drove to Skibotn for a seashore walk and lunch and then circled a nature trail in Lulledalen. The trail was quite lovely with variable habitats and and a clear-watered river. Many endangered orchid species can be found in Lulledalen because of high calcium level of the soil, but unfortunately someone had cut the flower stems from all Lady’s Slippers that were located along the path. Who does that?

I collected seashells from the beach in Skibotn for some photo experiments. The stairway in Kiekula has a nicely even light, so I photographed the shells there.

It’s been nice to sit by the living room table in Kiekula because swallows nest right above the window.

My room is upstairs and the view from there is also pretty. The sun will set tomorrow for the first time in two months, but it’s still so light that I find sleeping a bit difficult.

Today it seemed as if there would be thunder, but eventually it didn’t even rain. The maintenance person from the biological station told me about a boy who got hit by lightning at the top of Saanatunturi last year. He survived, but had to be flown to a hospital in a helicopter. Apparently this area gets thunder very rarely.

We’ve been back in Germany for almost a week now, but the internet in both our studio and flat has been terribly unreliable. As such, I haven’t posted as much as I should.

Today will be pictures of some of the wilderness we encountered. Hopefully this will be a bit of a pictorial peace offering.

In the coming days I will post some thoughts on my time in Kilpisjarvi, a few more images, and ideas that I’m considering for the next time (fingers crossed) I’m an artist-in-residence in this wonderful place above the arctic circle.