The limits of the relationship between human and machine has always become an interest to me as a musician. At some point of my workflow, I deal consistently with the question of how necessary it is to be dependent on such a large amount of high technology and what is the point of defending a workflow where you don’t share its challenges, tasks and pleasure with other humans. During my music education, the most common automotive systems seemed to be designed for only one purpose, a special instance or a specific music instrument. Besides it, the precision and binary thinking of its mechanisms seemed to always arrest our creative flow instead of releasing it.
In our current world, the machine culture has matured to the point that craftsmen’s ideas seem to be some sort of mediator between the analogue and digital world. When those tools, features or products are produced by international marketing and industrial companies, some can also showcase some redundancy of necessity and seemed only to be existing to prove the abundance of wealth and power from developed countries. I have been looking for an alternative in this cultural pattern where we could develop new relationships between humans and things, bringing awareness to its practice and a constructive way of redefining roles and labors.
Designing and testing my own electronic circuits has allowed me to sync better design thinking ideas and at the same time, through technology, to rediscover a new language of artistic expression .