030 vibra delta
029 algorithmic accompaniment
028 high-performance computing
027 between utility and contradiction
026 outside recordings vol.5 _ sipoonkorpi 
025 additional thoughts on
024 signal extraction
023 avoinna joka päivä
022 fricciópressió
021 imagining new forms
020 akousma pt.II
019 an approach to resilience
018 one step back, everyone!
017 container
016 ōki-sa
015 experiri ensemble
014 outside recordings vol.4 _ japan
013 shinjuku electrical walk
012 three movements for cellphone
011 distorted tunes test
010 estudi modular
009 outside recordings vol.3 _ costa rica
008  1.1 plants are deceptive
007 akousma
006 soroll
005 las hojas 
004 outside recordings vol.2 _ bolivia
003 institute for new feeling 
002 outside recordings vol.1 _ iceland
001 (sub)urban plants



info
performances
discography
podcast

cristian subirà hybrid sound documentalista




030 excerpt
sound piece _ 10 min _ 2025 


vibra delta is a sound work developed during a two-week residency in sant jaume d’enveja, in the delta de l’ebre, within the framework of the eufònic festival. conceived during the extended period of investigation, documentation, and methodological testing that shaped signal extraction, the piece emerges as a site-specific response.


the region is far from static: its landscape is continually reshaped by rice fields, industrial corridors, migratory birds, and fishing ports, while facing the looming threat of partial disappearance due to rising sea levels. It is a territory marked by both vulnerability and vitality. this tension provided the backdrop for my listening practice.


unlike previous initiatives that relied on fieldwork for subsequent manipulation, where I deliberately used a single recording technique, here I employed a variety of complementary devices: stereo environmental recordings, a contact microphone, and the soma ether v2 system, designed to capture infrasonic frequencies. this methodological expansion allowed me to articulate diverse layers of listening, reflecting the multiplicity of correspondences within the territory.

vibra delta is a sonic exploration of fragility, pressure, and resonance, where the organic and the artificial intersect, bringing to the surface the imperceptible, often invisible dialogues that emerge between human and non-human—and the often overlooked sounds that shape its daily life.



029 jnygzzpw with shu (术)
music _ 36 min _ 2025 
in collaboration with nueen _ nadia marcus, shu (术), harrga, fumitake tamura, more eaze and pasaporteman
digitally released by stroom


algorithmic accompaniment seeks to sonically explore the emotional disconnection that deepens as we embrace a vision of progress, highlighting the alienation that comes with the pursuit of a digital eden. using heavily manipulated and degraded stems to craft dystopian, retrofuturist, and non-sellable jingles, the record reflects on our growing dependence on ai systems and how they risk sidelining essential human values like empathy, intuition, and social connection. this tech-driven narrative, with its focus on productivity and profit, raises urgent questions about power concentration, bias, control, inequality, privacy, and the erosion of personal autonomy.
by weaving together the voices of various artists, the project aims to craft a tapestry of experiences that invites listeners to reimagine how we relate to one another and to our increasingly mediated world.

is this truly the unicorn paradise promised by silicon valley—or something far more troubling?



028 excerpt
sound piece _ 15 hours _ 2025 


in the modern world, algorithms play a central role in shaping economic models and decision-making, influencing many aspects of daily life. this "algorithmic accompaniment of society" aims to enhance efficiency, minimize risks, and improve quality of living across various socioeconomic backgrounds. the primary objective is optimization, with algorithms analyzing vast data to guide precise decisions in areas like supply chains, marketing, and healthcare. the rise of ai and machine learning has further amplified these capabilities, enabling unprecedented levels of customization.


however, this technological progress brings significant ethical and societal challenges, including concerns about transparency, accountability, and fairness. while designed to optimize outcomes, algorithms can inadvertently perpetuate biases, reinforce inequalities, and compromise privacy, making it difficult to understand or challenge their decisions.

against this backdrop, high-performance computing emerges to combine two seemingly unrelated forms of modern mysticism, blending the esoteric realms of numerology with the data-driven zeitgeist of the modern era. yet this act—despite its apparent contradictions—is based on a return to ancestral divinatory practices in our hypermodern age: the most advanced technologies leading us back to the oldest cultural rituals—attempts to control uncertainty. prediction becomes the new determinism, not by opening futures, but by enclosing reality within patterns extracted from information.

at its core, the project uses an experimental sampler and its artificial intelligence to compose and produce music. over the course of 30 days, I embarked on a journey through the algorithm, dedicating 30 minutes each day to recording music using 30 carefully created samples, with all rhythmic patterns based on multiples of the number 3. the significance of the number 3(0) is not arbitrary; it was chosen for its association with balance, urging us to seek equilibrium in both our physical and emotional domains. 


in a paradoxical and somewhat ironic twist, the assistance of artificial intelligence to gather samples of nothing, is enlisted in a quest to create yet another superfluous wellness tool. this pursuit, while ostensibly aimed at enhancing well-being, ultimately contributes to the proliferation of digital detritus through a 15-hour piece, adding to the ever-expanding repositories of data stored on remote servers. this fusion results in an abundance of surplus and somewhat inefficient music, not designed to solve complex problems.

high-performance computing prompts a rethinking of our views on progress, innovation, and technology's role in shaping our future. or maybe not. 





027
text _ 2025


in the current context—whether called the anthropocene, the capitalocene, or the third industrial revolution—one of the values most deeply ingrained in the collective imagination is utility. what is "useful" is that which has a practical function, serves a specific purpose, or generates some kind of benefit. this applies to objects, knowledge, actions, or even people, always from a productive perspective. under this dominant logic, anything that doesn't fit within these parameters is considered useless.

nuccio ordine reflects on this issue in l'utilità dell'inutile, where he exposes the paradox that precisely what is considered "useless"—art, literature, philosophy, and the humanities—is essential for human development and the enrichment of society. in contrast to the modern obsession with performance and profitability, ordine defends the intrinsic value of knowledge and creativity, detached from their immediate utility. his critique points to the reduction of education and culture to mere economic tools, reminding us that many of humanity's greatest achievements have emerged from curiosity and passion, rather than practical need.


in no way can my projects be framed within this category; the category of great achievements. not at all. they are small, personal initiatives driven by the need to explore, expand knowledge, and stimulate my own creative processes. they exist in a separate territory from my professional activities, although both coexist and, at times, interact. what might seem like a contradiction has led to the creation of a less conditioned, freer space: a conscious amateurism, moved by concerns and impulses, exploring unusual places in the form of records, collaborations, live performances, field recordings, installations, and sound pieces.

however, after years of undertaking projects for the simple sake of doing them, today I find myself in a complex dichotomy: to adapt them or not to the logic of utility. even when I do not intend to, the adaptation of these processes for gaining access to artistic residencies or grants looms over my writing. thinking about their funding and the amortization of the time for research and development makes the idea of profit hover over my creative logic. I hope it is satellite-like, not central. but there it is, another contradiction that runs through not only the final result but also the very conceptualization of each project.


at this point, an uncomfortable question arises: is it cynical to seek institutional funding for projects that, in essence, question the idea of utility and productivity? that, through their logic of reward, impose a competitive process? that demand a result?

in any case, contradictions aside, this approach led me to receive a grant from the kone foundation for signal extraction, for which I had the privilege of dedicating several months to research. beyond delving into issues related to the project, this time allowed me to reflect on my creative process, my motivations, and, above all, on unfinished processes. I felt the need to close certain stages in order to move forward, to give coherence to ideas that had been waiting for approval or feedback. to embark on a necessary parallel journey: those unfinished projects would not only nourish my research, but in a reciprocal cycle, they would give new meaning to works that over time had become decontextualized.

one of those projects on hiatus,—and the one that mainly motivates this unnecessary written reflection—is high-performance computing. its origin dates back two years, after reading the works of éric sadin, published in spanish by caja negra. in them, sadin conducts a deep critique of the impact of digital technologies on society, addressing topics such as control and surveillance, automation and the loss of human autonomy, the massive circulation of data, the alteration of subjectivity, and the fragility of democracies. his reading led me to others, and little by little, I began weaving ideas around the false technocratic narrative about the neutrality of algorithms and the ethical challenges they bring.


in parallel, my interest in these issues coincide with a free workshop on audiostellar, taught by its creators from the university of buenos aires. audiostellar is a sampler with procedural generation that, through algorithms, creates random sound patterns from simple instructions. its level of control is adjustable, allowing for a hybrid dialogue between the user and the machine.

through this strange conversation, the idea for a piece emerged—not only to reflect an ambivalent relationship with the software itself, but also with technology more broadly. my practice is not exempt from industrial processes from the moment I begin developing a project. despite my dependence on digital tools, I also question their ethical, social, and ecological implications. there is a constant tension between use and critique. while inhabiting this environment, I make no attempt to conceal my own presence within the problem I seek to analyze. as a result, no clear answers emerge—only questions born of my own inconsistencies, which are an integral part of the process.

it is from this thread —rooted in contradiction and tension—that the project begins to take conceptual shape. at this point, éric sadin reappears in my notes, expanding on the idea through an apparently antagonistic concept: the "algorithmic accompaniment of life." this notion suggests that algorithms shape our experiences, both in the everyday and the transcendent—specters that observe our consumption patterns, integrated into our daily tasks, lurking: hidden, intangible.

from there, the first actionable premise was to establish a conscious and consensual relationship with algorithms. and this relationship had to extend over time: 30 days—a period long enough to gather samples of nothing. additionally, all the rhythmic patterns chosen would be multiples of the number 3, and 30 samples would also be selected—a choice that was not arbitrary. beyond representing cyclical regularity in calendars, numerology associates these numbers with balance, urging us to seek harmony in both physical and emotional realms. considering the current state of things—our daily zeitgeist so intimately tied to numbers—I was drawn to the idea of combining two disparate forms of mysticism: numerology and the cult of data.


by setting a point of convergence between the esoteric and the technological, it blurs seemingly compartmentalized spaces by fusing numerology with the predictive power of artificial intelligence. yet this act—despite its apparent contradictions—echoes what elena esposito describes as a return to ancestral divinatory practices in our hypermodern age: the most advanced technologies leading us back to the oldest cultural rituals—attempts to control uncertainty. prediction becomes the new determinism, not by opening futures, but by enclosing reality within patterns extracted from data. as jorge luis marzo warns in his book las videntes (the seers), this “productive truth” allows little room for alternatives. algorithms predict not by explaining or reasoning, but by offering patterns that are unquestionable—precisely because they lack justification beyond correlation. ai thus assumes the role of the oracle, not to enlighten, but to reinforce the inevitability of what is to come.


regardless of the cyberocratic narrative’s insistence that technology will lead us to a "better place," the facts invite doubt. the obsession with optimization risks eclipsing the value of subjective experience, sidelining key aspects of our well-being such as creativity, empathy, and social connection—dimensions that are impossible to quantify.

what defines current ai is not its ability to replicate our imagination or playfulness with the goal of surpassing them, but rather its capacity to vastly exceed human brainpower in specific tasks. this allows ai to perform activities at a speed, efficiency, and reliability far beyond our own. ultimately, everything is reduced to productivity and profit.

that, more or less, is the conceptual framework of a project that remained dormant for two years—mainly because I applied to several grants and residencies, but it was never selected. during this time, what lasted was not a piece to be exhibited or performed, but an unfinished process, a suspended proposition. I was comfortable with its lack of finalization. over time, I began to understand this not as failure, but as a different kind of approach—one that resists closure, production, and measurable success. perhaps even one that was more coherent with the very ideas I was trying to explore.

this understanding held—until last may, when I decided to return to it and bring it to completion. not to fulfill a requirement or meet a deadline, but simply to engage in a project for its own sake. to embark on a modest, unnecessary symbolic act: the creation of surplus, purposeless music, rooted in an impractical commitment to repetitive actions—invisible, anonymous, and disconnected—carried out in the intimacy of my home. with no aim to solve problems, aspire to utopia, or induce happiness—it exists simply to exist.

because it is difficult to imagine a world without representation—a world in which any form of "excess" has been eliminated. a world where we live only in relation to what is useful, surrounded solely by functional objects and efficient signs.

high-performance computing exposes the contradictions inherent in our relationship with technology. its very conceptualization—and even more so, its process: slow, dependent on institutional or festival validation, striving to conform to a productive logic—riddled with inconsistencies and nuance. these tensions compel us to reflect on our assumptions about progress and optimization. or perhaps not. after all, the project’s initial premise was explicit: to engage in an utterly useless initiative—one that rejects even the need for justification.




026 excerpt
field recordings _ 36 min _ 2025


the fifth edition of this ongoing series is dedicated to sipoonkorpi national park and its surrounding areas. this project emerges as an extension of signal extraction, expanding its framework by sharing fieldwork and presenting a selection of sound samples, some of which are incorporated into the final composition.

in contrast to previous initiatives that relied exclusively on stereo environmental recording, this edition introduces complementary devices: a contact microphone and the soma system, designed to capture infrasonic frequencies. this methodological expansion enables the articulation of multiple layers of listening —vibration transmitted through matter, standardized capture, and that which lies beyond human audition— thereby challenging the notion of a singular “sonic document.” listening itself, conceived through these multiple subjectivities, generates tensions and ambivalences that interrogate the very idea of boundary or limit.


electromagnetic residues generated by human activity are omnipresent: dispersed, spectral, ubiquitous, yet constant in increasingly saturated environments. by proposing a mode of listening that weaves together the audible and the inaudible, this project seeks to reflect on how, today, the natural and the artificial are no longer opposed, but interlaced as layers of a shared palimpsest. machines are not merely introduced into the natural realm; they have become inseparable from it, embedded within its material fabric.

in continuity with earlier projects — outside recordings vol. 1 – iceland or one step back, everyone! — this work explores new strategies for documenting and problematizing the experience of cohabiting natural environments. rather than concealing technological mediation or my own presence, I place myself within the acoustic narration. I do not seek to stand behind what I record: my equipment, my listening, and my presence are unequivocally part of the forces shaping this ambiguous sonic spectrum.






025
text _ 2025


in an era increasingly defined by extraction—of data, minerals, attention, and meaning—exploring the hidden frequencies that permeate the landscape helps us understand the entangled relationships between humans, technologies, and ecosystems. in this context, listening becomes an act of relation: a way of situating oneself within a vibrating web of affective, biological, and infrastructural flows.

as sound moves through space, it crosses human-constructed boundaries and confronts both ancient and contemporary narratives. it questions the very meaning of borders. within the porous frame of an acoustic field, distinctions between what is protected or polluted, public or private, here or there, us and them—become increasingly ambiguous.


perhaps we need to open a portal toward rethinking the ethics of presence. if trees can function as antennas, and forests resonate with signals we barely understand, the task is not to speak for nature, but to listen with it. long-term survival depends not on dominance, but on symbiosis. the challenge we face is not only ecological but ontological: to reimagine what it means to be human in a more-than-human world.

this is becoming increasingly difficult, as joseph kosuth observes, because we now live in a fully enculturated world—one in which we are largely detached from it. our categories of value are no longer rooted in ecosystems but in economic abstractions. this estrangement explains, for instance, why dead trees are often viewed as disorderly rather than as vibrant sites of ecological richness—something I encountered firsthand in sipoonkorpi national park. It also sheds light on why plant perception is still tainted by pseudoscientific stigma, despite growing evidence of vegetal intelligence. we have reduced nature to spectacle or resource, severing the symbolic and emotional contracts that once bound us to it.


attempting to return to a pre-industrial silence is naïve. instead, we must acknowledge that the so-called natural and artificial are no longer opposites, but interwoven layers of the same palimpsest. as leo marx's metaphor of “the machine in the garden” reminds us, the mechanical and the organic now coexist uneasily in our landscapes. the machine is not simply intruding into nature—it is embedded within it. the tension lies not in their opposition, but in their interdependence.

the electromagnetic residue of human activity serves as a haunting reminder that no place is truly “pure.” it calls into question the persistent illusion that nature exists “outside,” in pristine fragments untouched by human interference. even within national parks, we are embedded in networks—of surveillance, energy infrastructures, noise pollution, and colonial economies—that collapse the illusion of dichotomy. the forest no longer offers refuge from the systems that produced it; rather, it exposes their extent. finland, despite its vast forest cover, exemplifies this paradox: approximately 90% of its woodlands are managed for industrial purposes. the idea of unaltered nature is, in itself, a cultural construction—a carefully curated illusion.


but the issue at stake here involves more than physical movement through landscapes. It concerns perceptual responsibility. we must recognize that sound—like knowledge—is partial, situated, and often ephemeral. the tree, as metaphor, and the open-ended nature of this project both reflect that principle, in a world where monoculture forestry mirrors monocultural thought.

listening is not a passive act. it is a commitment—a relational praxis. what matters is not simply what we hear, but how we choose to listen. it is a way of inhabiting the planet with more humility—and perhaps, with more care. 




024 excerpt
sound piece _ 20 min _ 2025
funded by the kone foundation  


this piece was composed from recordings made in sipoonkorpi national park and along its edges, using a custom-built device that converts electromagnetic interference into sound. trees functioned as natural antennas, capturing “inaudible ” frequencies that were later manipulated and arranged.

the fieldwork extended beyond the park’s interior into surrounding areas—residential zones, highways, and industrial corridors—tracing the entangled flows of energy, sound, and information that disregard socially constructed boundaries.


walking over 200 kilometers and crossing these lines became a method of interrogating the idea of margins: what lies inside or outside a “protected” space, and how human infrastructures both define and confine. this approach also engaged with finland’s jokamiehenoikeus (everyone’s right to access nature), exploring how this principle persists—or is challenged—within landscapes shaped by global extractivism and hyper-industrialization.

in an era where technology governs territory often without direct human presence, the project turns to the biological ambiguity of trees—organisms that, while lacking ears or nervous systems like animals, exhibit environmental sensitivity through structures such as plasmodesmata, allowing them to respond to stimuli, including sound vibrations.


this is not a scientific inquiry. rather, it embraces subjectivity, embodied experience, and listening as a relational act, proposing alternative modes of perception. it confronts the acoustic consequences of modern life, where noise pollution becomes a subtle yet pervasive form of control and colonization. even the most remote forests are saturated with anthropogenic pressures, shifting the world from an extensive to an intensive condition—no longer defined by distance, but by density.




023 excerpt
field recording _35 min _ 2025


avoinna joka päivä (finnish for “open every day”) is a field recording initiative developed alongside the signal extraction project. the idea emerged from my walks around the fringes of sipoonkorpi national park, where I observed how human-made infrastructures confine the forest. interlaced highways, industrial zones, and residential developments blur the limits between where nature ends and human systems begin.

one of the most striking examples of this entanglement is the massive ikea in vantaa. this complex stands as a symbol of the built environment that encroaches upon and reshapes this forest—both physically and conceptually—in an area that, paradoxically, was likely once home to trees belonging to the sipoonkorpi ecosystem, had there been no human intervention.


in a broader frame, ikea becomes more than just a neighbor to the forest—it represents a new phase in the commodification of living wood. a tree becomes a chair, which enters a home, and eventually returns as waste or recycled material—all within a tightly orchestrated global economy of extraction. this process creates a false sense of circularity. the furniture itself, likely made from wood harvested far from finland, reflects the complexity of tracing a clear line through the flows of energy, matter, and information that underpin our consumer habits.

this blurring of boundaries reveals how economic abstractions connect two seemingly opposite spaces: national parks and ikea stores. but there is something else, something subtler yet quietly striking. despite their contrasting appearances, a shared feature emerges: circular paths. both the forest trail and the exhibition route are designed to guide visitors along predetermined tracks. these paths leave no room for improvisation, no space to wander freely. they are constructed to manage movement, shaped by the logic of centralized planning and spatial control.


these systems—rooted in efficiency—also shape how we experience so-called “protected” zones. like ikea, many national parks have become curated showcases: landscapes preserved not for their ecological complexity or connection to local communities, but for visual consumption. they now serve the tourism and leisure economy, offering sanitized encounters with “nature” that sideline both ecosystems and the people who live near or within them. what emerges is an urban vision of the landscape—where visitors are passive spectators, disconnected from the living systems they claim to experience.

avoinna joka päivä is a long-duration sound recording that documents a walk along one of these circular, standardized paths—mirroring the layout found in every ikea warehouse. the recording is unedited and unmanipulated, aside from minor equalization to balance low frequencies. my footsteps, my breath, the friction of the recorder against my chest, and the pressure saturating the microphone all become part of the acoustic narrative. I make no attempt to erase or neutralize my presence. on the contrary, I foreground its contradictions. I am there too—walking, consuming. 24/7. buying those objects that were once trees. 





022  
sound pieces _ 5 min _ 2025


the invitation to contribute to the tenth-anniversary compilation of mutan monkey came while I was in delta de l’ebre, taking part in the eufònic festival residency.

at the time, I was recording with an ovno wood contact microphone—designed and handmade by rober martínez, the founder of the initiative. it was one of those coincidences one tends to interpret as a sign: accepting the proposal felt like a natural, almost reflexive decision, as I deeply resonate with the values that mutant monkey embodies.

 
I decided that my contribution would be a small homage—not only to rober, but also to the territory I found myself in: delta de l’ebre. a landscape in constant transition.

for that reason, I chose to work exclusively with the ovno wood contact microphone and two elements that felt deeply representative of the area: the observation towers—structures that invite attentive looking and listening—and the mistral wind, which blows forcefully from the northwest in april, drying the land, clearing the sky, and supporting bird migration.

the first piece, fricció, is built from the friction of my foot against one of these metal observation structures. I recorded five layers of sound, all derived from the same physical action, with minimal variations that produce an oscillating and fragile movement. the harmonies emerge almost by accident, hesitant, as if resisting resolution.

the second piece, pressió, stems from a less controlled situation. in this case, I recorded six independent tracks, all captured from the vibrations caused by the mistral wind on various surfaces in the surrounding environment. here, the human gesture disappears, and it is the wind itself that acts as composer—creating an unstable, generative, almost automaton-like texture.