Forms of presence – best practices for media use from artists to artists in Europe

Editor

Pohjola Panu, Master of Arts (Theatre and Drama), Senior Lecturer, Bachelor of Culture and Arts, Visual Arts, Digital Solutions, Lapland University of Applied Sciences.

Authors of the articles

• Uotinen Emma, Master of Arts (Cultural Studies), Project Advisor, Project Manager, Project Management Office, Turku University of Applied Sciences, Finland.
• Sundbacka Anni, Master of Arts (Arts Studies, Comparative Literature), Senior Lecturer, Performing Arts, Art Academy, Turku University of Applied Sciences, Finland.
• Borovac Ines, Master of Arts (Social Design), Visual artist and researcher, Nederlands.
• Krcelic Irena, Croatia.
• Rukavina Nika, Diploma in sculpture at Accademia di Belle Arti Venezia, independent artist, Croatia.
• Cacini Luca, EMJMD Master’s degree (Media Arts Cultures), Media artist and researcher, Italy.
• Serpente Eleonora, Scientific High School Diploma, Freelance contemporary dancer, gruppocorp3 collective, Italy.
• Di Serio Roberta, Master in Cultural Anthropology and PhD researcher (University of Milano – Bicocca), contemporary dancer, gruppocorp3 collective, Italy.
• Menchetti Raffaela, Master of Arts (Fine Art´s, Stage Practice and Visual Cultures) Cross disciplinary artist: Director, Performer, Visual Artist, Italy.
• Stroganova Alexandra, Master of Arts (Nordic Visual Studies and Art Education), Transdisciplinary Artist, Finland.
• Tkalčić Ivana, M.Sc. (Economics), M.A. (Fine Arts), Artistic Associate, Croatia.
• Li Tianjun, Master of Arts (Visual Cultures, Curating and Contemporary Art), Interdisciplinary Artist, Finland.
• Koivunen Kati, D. Sc. (Econ.), Principal Lecturer, Researcher, Responsibility in Business and Services, Lapland University of Applied Sciences, Finland.
• Briffa Karen, Professional Diploma (Digital Marketing ), pyrography artist, Malta.
• Brettoni Angela, B.A (Creative Arts).  Performance artist and activist with Down Syndrome, Malta.
• Pohjola Panu, Master of Arts (Theatre and Drama), Senior Lecturer, Bachelor of Culture and Arts, Visual Arts, Digital Solutions, Lapland University of Applied Sciences, Finland.

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Introduction

Emma Uotinen & Anni Sundbacka
Project Management, Turku, January 2026

…the artist must navigate multiple realities and distorted dimensions simply to sustain themselves […] Pressured to express their identity and expose their work in the platforms, creatives are simply trying to orient themselves in the rabbit hole of everlasting technological acceleration.

Ines Borovac 2026

The Professional Media Presence (PMP) project is a four-year initiative (2023–2027)
supported by Creative Europe. It aims to empower artists to strengthen their digital
presence and professional identity in an increasingly media-driven cultural landscape.
The project addresses gaps in media literacy and digital skills, fostering inclusion and
innovation across Europe.

PMP responds to the growing influence of media in shaping artistic identity and combats
challenges like misinformation and constantly changing digital tools. By equipping artists
with digital skills and fostering collaboration, the project strengthens cultural resilience
and diversity across Europe.

One of the core actions has been educational activities. During 2023-2025, the PMP
project organized five online seminars, Workshop weeks and artist residencies for collaborative creation and skill-building. All the activities enhance transnational
collaboration by connecting artists from six EU countries (Finland, Croatia, Italy, Malta,
Slovakia, Spain) to promote cultural exchange. The project brings together a total of 113
artists representing various artistic fields. We prioritize social inclusion by focusing
on artists in different stages of their careers facing barriers such as disability, health
issues, economic hardship, social or political challenges, geographic isolation, or cultural
differences, to promote accessible and diverse participation.

The Professional Media Presence (PMP) project is built around five main themes.
Media & Art explores how media shapes artistic expression and cultural narratives.
Online Media & Digital Storytelling teaches the creation of digital stories and effective
online sharing. Social Media & Media Readership focuses on audience engagement
and responsible media use to prevent misinformation. Future Media examines new
technologies such as artificial intelligence and virtual reality, emphasizing ethical
applications in art and media. Media and Professional Identity guides artists in
establishing and maintaining an authentic professional presence online.

These themes form the backbone of PMP’s educational content, development of the
Forms of presence, and creative outputs, ensuring artists gain media literacy, digital
skills, and strategies for professional growth.

Forms of presence as a set of signposts from artist to artist

The Forms of presence offer insight into the conditions of building an artistic career in
the current sociopolitical context and across different European microclimates. Drawing
on contributions from residency artists and invited professionals, the Forms of presence
highlights shared themes, challenges, and best practices relevant to artists working in
changing media landscapes. It is intended as a resource for both artists and educators,
and as an invitation to engage with artist-to-artist methods and perspectives.

The Professional Media Presence Forms of presence comprises artistic forewords and
eleven articles by professionals and the project’s artists, opening different aspects of
contemporary artistic practice. As Tianjun Li frames their contribution: “The Forms of
presence aren’t a complete map, but rather a set of signposts I wish I’d had earlier.”

The Forms of presence as a publication, as well as the whole Professional Media Presence
project, is strongly based on the idea of peer sharing. In the project, we refer to this as a
from-artist-to-artist approach: artists share their insights and knowledge from their own
perspectives. This makes the PMP Forms of presence a unique compilation of individual
artistic approaches that offer insight into European artists’ possibilities in the current
cultural and media landscape. As the contributors are at different stages of their careers,
the articles reflect a diversity of thought and form and represent a wide range of artistic
fields.

Invited foreword by artist Ines Borovac explores the construction of artistic identity in
digital environments and technological acceleration. It reflects on how artists negotiate
visibility, vulnerability and shifting notions of self, authenticity and community shaped
by platform logics and digital mediation.

Irena Krčelić examines how the definition of the professional artist in is shaped in
the Croatian context and what kind of institutional restrictions are hidden in these
interpretations. The contribution highlights the gap between formal recognition, realities
of artistic labour and economic insecurity. Nika Rukavina addresses artistic precarity,
invisible labour, and institutional inequality. The text explains the artists’ reality and
ongoing negotiation between creative autonomy, entrepreneurial survival, and activist
strategies to sustain their practice.

Luca Cacini reflects on media practices within the Italian context by mapping the media
ecosystem and its implications for artists’ visibility and professional opportunities. The
article highlights the dominance of traditional media alongside the growing influence of
digital platforms and offers a view on how artists navigate media structures, audience
fragmentation, and the changing logic of platforms.

Eleonora Serpente and Roberta Di Serio, members of the gruppocorp3 collective,
examine questions about community, connection, and coming together in the age of
digital society. Approaching social media from an artistic perspective, they explore its
possibilities as well as its challenges, particularly in relation to community-building,
presence, and the dynamics of the attention economy. Raffaella Menchetti offers an
interesting bridge between art-as-media, art in media, and art/media activism. The article
positions media not only as a channel of dissemination but as a platform where artistic
agency, memory, and political responsibility are actively negotiated.

Alexandra Stroganova’s article offers critical thought towards media, ethics and identity
through the lens of hydrofeminism. It also provides thought-provoking exercises to
reflect and further extend on the subject. In their contribution, Ivana Tkalčić further
examines the critical thought on the overproduction of social media and its ecological
and social impacts, with particular attention to energy use and the production of
critical raw materials. As a response to challenges with material requirements needed
in the seemingly immaterial digital world, Tkalčić draws on degrowth to rethink care
and proposes a personal artistic approach to media as a form of regenerative practice.

Tianjun Li’s article suggests possibilities of AI and digital platforms as tools for artistic
creation. They also offer valuable perspectives on working as an artist in the European
context from the position of someone coming from outside of it.

Kati Koivunen’s article examines professional branding on social media as an ongoing
form of identity work. It explores how values, competencies, and public visibility are
continuously negotiated in the field of artistic practice. Karen Briffa’s writing reflects
experiences from the start of the PMP project and offers examples on artists’ use of
media platforms.

Angela Bettoni’s article opens their experiences in the project as an artist with Down
syndrome and suggests inclusive perspectives in the context of different media. This
section also includes case study interviews presenting inspiring artist stories.

During the project’s lifecycle, the world has already changed drastically, particularly in
relation to media environments. At the same time, the thematic directions of the project
have become more clearly defined through the diverse contributions of the artists, as is
evident throughout these Forms of presence.

We would warmly like to thank everyone for their contributions for the Forms of
presence but also the whole Professional Media Presence project: all the artists of the
National Artist Teams, residency artists offering their insights and forming the core of
these Forms of presence, Creative Europe for co-supporting the project’s realisation, and
everyone who have contributed their passion and expertise to the project throughout its
lifespan. We also want to thank the whole partner team of the project for partnership
and collaboration: Lapland University of Applied Sciences (Finland), Youth for Equality
(Slovakia), Espronceda (Spain), Perypezye Urbane (Italy), Culture Hub (Croatia) and Prisms
(Malta). Finally, a sincere thank you goes to our colleagues in the Lapland UAS for the
editing of this publication about the Forms of presence, especially senior lecturer Panu
Pohjola, who has tirelessly advanced the Forms of presence together with the artists,
guiding and supporting them in their work with gentleness and expertise.

We believe these Forms of presence will help and guide artists in Europe in their
individual artistic path in constantly changing and challenging media landscapes. Also,
educators and artist-teachers can benefit from the Forms of presence by using them for
an educational purpose, finding the biggest challenges and best practices, and sharing
information and points of views with future artists.

We hope you find artist-to-artist methods, as well as insights valuable and interesting
in your own path. We are very proud and thankful to all the artists across Europe who
were involved in this process and contributed their thoughts and time to the Professional
Media Presence project.

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Foreword

Ines Borovac
Workshop leader and keynote speaker on Spilt autumn 2025

Introduction

“You can enter through an interface, but also through your pocket. You can enter through a screen, but you must screen something of yourself in return.” (Konior, 2020). Typing Instagram.com… The block site pops up… “Nice try… You put instagram.com on the block sites lists, it’s probably there for a reason…” I am momentarily chagrined by the efficiency of my own restraint, by the fact that the prohibitions I installed against myself are, in fact, functional. Indeed, it is there for a reason. Still, I rise from the table. I exit the room to retrieve the phone I had deliberately left in another room, a small choreography of self-surveillance motivated by desire. I open Instagram and swiftly type the name of an artist whose name has popped up in an article. Found them! 10K followers, they must be successful. Website in the bio. The website presents contemporary aesthetics, professional. Collaborative posts with the big gallery names, accomplished. Beyond this information giving me enough material to spiral in a comparison it demonstrates the construction of their professional identity. From this side of my portable smart mirror, they are successful, professional and accomplished artist. Depending on the platform’s interface, the self is rendered differently; what manifests as a curator of aesthetics on Pinterest is reframed as an individual seeking romantic intimacy on Hinge.

Life in the Technocene has normalised sharing more intimate moments with our devices then with other humans. (Samman, 2023) Technology has not just creeped in all of the spheres of our lives and altered our identities but as well it has changed the way we express our identity online, and the way it impacts the identities of the ones who observe them. Through all platforms we sign in on we are witnessing all these changes simultaneously. Each time we create a profile, the platform forces us to split and compress our identity, curating an image of ourselves suiting the purpose of the platform. As Benjamin Bratton claims, the user is a designed subject (Bratton, 2015). In The Stack, Bratton argues that platforms generate user identities whether they are desired or not (Bratton, 2015). Through sets of protocols, verifications, and profile creation, platforms request information and force us to identify ourselves within specific boundaries. Users with the most thorough identity verification are often awarded a ”badge of trust”, a form of valuation disguised as a token of esteem. Participation in these platforms is not forced, yet opting out is a deliberate retreat from the global digital economy. Within this ecosystem, we exist as fragmented identities, constantly stretched, compressed, or reshaped to fit the specific mould of the platform interface. The process of constant identity reconfiguration is a common experience for creatives pursuing economic autonomy. As artists Nika Rukavina and Irena Krčelić emphasize, the search for creative freedom often requires artists to sustain themselves by juggling side jobs while simultaneously managing their online presence, taxes, and administrative burdens (Rukavina, 2026; Krčelić, 2026). Mastering the skills of an entrepreneur becomes unavoidable. To be an artist often implies exiting outside the traditional economic system, except for a few lucky individuals supported by the elite. The less fortunate artists must instead rely on multiplicity, stretching themselves across multiple side-jobs and social personas in order to sustain their creative paths. Navigating the professional world requires creatives to acquire marketing skills that are effective enough to advance a career, yet not too good to be sell-outs. Beyond self-promotion, excellent management skills are needed to coordinate the various versions of the self at the appropriate times. Ultimately, project management becomes a mandatory part of the creative process, as one must maintain balance between different roles. While the concept of multiple selves is not new to the arts, it has been transformed into a strategy for survival.

A metaphysical phenomenon of constant reconfiguration of one’s identity is something Johana Walsh in her book Girl Online interprets through the reference of Lewis Carroll’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and its second sequence Through the Looking-Glass (Walsh, 2022). While daydreaming of a different world, Alice looks through the mirror. The mirror melts and transports her to a new reality (Carroll, 1871). Throughout Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, Alice becomes alternately huge, microscopic, gigantic, and pocket-sized; she is subjected to continuous processes of re-shaping. In Walsh’s analysis she describes this condition as one of the Alician subjects (Walsh, 2022). This instability mirrors the condition of the modern creative, who is exposed to the perpetual flux of systems they did not design. Much like Alice, the artist must navigate multiple realities and distorted dimensions simply to sustain themselves, all while being glorified by the spectacle of the entertainment society. Pressured to express their identity and expose their work in the platforms, creatives are simply trying to orient themselves in the rabbit hole of everlasting technological acceleration. Resilient to change, Alice accepts the new version of herself and while exposed to new visual culture and unknown means communication is determined to navigate the dark disorienting forest populated by whimsical characters.

According to the Dark Forest Int Collective and Bogna Konior, this is exactly what the internet is becoming; a dark forest (Konior, 2020: Strickler, 2024). In response to the ads, the tracking, the trolling, the hype and other predatory behaviours, the internet of today is a battle ground. The idealism of the 90’s web is gone. The public and semi-public spaces we have created to develop our identities, cultivate communities and gain knowledge have been overtaken by forces which use them to gain power of various kinds (market, political, social and so on), (Strickler, 2024). In the dark forest there are no safe meadows where one can gain a sense of calm and control. Ivana Tkalčič vividly depicts a safe meadow, an internet as future sites for regenerative practices of care (Tkalčič, 2026). Tkalčić refers to it as a forest whose cables are connected to the ecological web of our planet. The forest is ruled by the philosophy of slowness and sufficiency where the values of community and regeneration dictate growth. If regenerative terrains of care were not endangered by the invasive species of the dark forest maybe we wouldn’t fall down the pit of ethical abdication, in the same way the accelerationist ideology of Nick Land fails under the scrutiny of critique. By refusing to question who is harmed during technological acceleration we are complicit in the erasure of the body, the social and the vulnerable. Although Tkalčić presents a utopian vision, her ideology aligns with Karen Briffa’s call for localized media programs (Briffa, 2026). Together, they highlight how knowledge and progress should be shaped by the scale of local development.

As artist and advocate Angela Bettoni has suggested, the relentless pace of technological growth risks creating a ’fear of missing out’ that sidelines those who process the world differently. By slowing this growth, we can ensure that the professional ’quests’ of disabled artists are not overshadowed by the pressure to keep up, but are instead supported by a more localized, intentional approach to progress. In order to slow down and spark a small intention of solidarity, the present text has been adjusted by some of the guidelines laid out in the text of Brettoni.  As strong as our urge to provide care is, the dark forest of the Technocene is overgrowing and suffocating the Anthropocenic utopian forest, leaving the idea of “safe meadow” contingent upon personal integrity. In the words of Bogna Konior, the dark forest is a place where: The roots grow upwards, the crown reaches downwards: wrapped around the planet, the internet circulates between satellites and underwater cables (Konior, 2020). As the roots turn skyward and the canopy presses down, the forest begins to speak through us, asking who we are willing to become in order to remain. Like Alice, halted by the Caterpillar and compelled to carefully articulate herself, we find ourselves confronted with the same questions: Who are we in this new world? How does this new reality alter our creative identity? How do we protect ourselves against predators- and when do we become them? Who do we trust? Whose rules do we agree to? Under which terms and conditions do we navigate?

Fragmentation of identity in digital environments

Looking for identity online, I become an example to myself. I am shown the self-similar, similar to the self the algorithms I enter record, until I am like what I like onscreen. On Tumblr, Instagram, Pinterest I am making a self through photographs of things that self would like to have

Walsh, 2026

In order to pass through the portal to another reality, Alice’s body is stretched, compacted, shrunk, enlarged and compressed. With every attempt to fit in, she faces a new version of her own becoming. Though the continual reconfiguration of her body is marked by uncertainty and unease, refusal to reshape would foreclose the possibility of accessing the portal altogether. Transformation, here, is not a threat but a condition of passage. A similar theory of fluid becoming appears in the text of Alexandra Stroganova, who approaches media and identity through a hydrofeminist lens (Stroganova, 2026). She argues that identity which is mediated through technology and media tools in a process of constant reconfiguration challenges anthropocentric and rigidly gendered narratives. Stroganova’s illustration of identity as water offers a material view. Supported by Barad’s ideologies through which intangible power is materialised, Stroganova demystifies the personal data by reimagining it as a liquid currency (Barad, 2007; Stroganova, 2026)

In the Glitch Feminism, Legacy Russell writes about artists E. Jane 2016 and her piece titled “NOPE” manifesto (Russell, 2020). The first sentence in E. Jane’s manifesto states: “I am not an identity artist just because I am a Black artist with multiple selves” referring to her “alter ego” avatar Mhysa.” E. Jane acknowledges that the construction of a self, creative or otherwise is a complex task and to claim multiple selves is to fight against patriarchal flattening of oppressed bodies – “intersectional bodies who have traveled restlessly, gloriously, through narrow spaces.” To seize “multiple selves” is, therefore, an inherently feminist act claiming that multiplicity is a liberty (Russell, 2020). Existing in the confines of a singular self means to surrender to rigid normative systems. To be categorised as a singular identity is not only to become vulnerable to these systems of control, but also to forfeit the capacity to inhabit multiple worlds when one inevitably collapses.

Nonetheless, the ideology of multitudes no longer relies exclusively on avatars and “alter egos”. It no longer needs a different face, body shape or name to contain another version of the self. Due to the heavy residue of fake accounts, bots and scams in the dark forest of the internet we are forced to connect our IRL identity to the digital one. Although all the versions of ourselves are extending through different platforms with distinct identities, they are all interconnected. They all stem from the same person, they are all just extensions of us. As Kati Koivunen explains, professional brand identity expressed through media operates as a differentiated layer of the self: neither reducible to private personal identity nor to formal professional roles, yet relationally entangled with both (Koivunen; 2026). She argues that the creation of curated online content constitutes the artist’s professional brand identity. Rather than maintaining a rigid separation between one’s professional online self and private self, she suggests that authenticity emerges from recognising both as integral parts of the self. It is precisely that part of our creative identity which moves through digital layers, this is what Koivunen describes as “authenticity.” As much as authentic behaviour can help with artistic exposure, Raffaella Menchetti warns about the thin line between exposure and performativity (Menchetti, 2026). She claims one should be careful not to fall under the influence of producing visually striking, easily consumable content (Menchetti, 2026).

Quoting Yancey Strickel, one of the founders of the Dark Forest Collective: To go online is to become reindividualised, an individual with a whole new way and place (Strickel, 2024). We become born again as individuals in a new realm (Strickel, 2024). With each glimpse at our screens, we risk living the tiring destiny of Alice. Curiosity never comes without a price and in this case, that price is being confronted by the relentless transformations all happening within us. As Bogona Konior writes: The more complex and intelligent life becomes, the higher the price it may have to pay in conflict (Konior, 2020). The complexity of navigating multiple selves sometimes becomes so layered that it conflicts with our perception of reality.

 …the Caterpillar took the pipe out of its mouth and said to Alice in a slow, sleepy voice, ’Who are you?’ ’I don’t really know, sir,’ said Alice. I know who I was when I got up this morning, but I have changed so often since then. I think I am a different person now.’ ’What do you mean by that?’ said the Caterpillar. ’Explain yourself!’ ’I can’t explain myself, sir,’ said Alice, ’because I’m not myself, you know.’ ’I don’t know,’ said the Caterpillar.

Carroll, 1871

Paul B. Preciado warns of what he terms: Amnesic Feminism (Preciado, 2019). Within an anxious, isolated, and digitally saturated society, feminism, as a historically generative key to oppression’s archives, may enable us to trace the mechanisms of memory annihilation, the fracturing of identity, and the erosion of creative integrity. Preciado explains that Amnesic Feminism is the inability of feminism to remember its own genealogy, to lose its voice, forget its sources, and misplace its archives (Preciado, 2019). Artist Raffaella Menchetti argues that in order to avoid the loss of memory and the pitfalls of digital performativity, where artists are pressured to conform to online aesthetics dictated by algorithmic visibility, artists should among other things practice “auto archiving” (Menchetti; 2026). A practice where artists document and archive their online presence, inspired by the words of Hito Steyerl (2017) Raffaela highlights the use of “self-archiving” among the artists as a resistance strategy against digital obsolescence and to gain control of their public representation.

When the history is written by the conquerors, feminism is rendered necessarily amnesic (Benjamin, 1940). As time is increasingly siphoned away by the relentless circulation of information and content, this amnesia can be understood not as a passive lapse of memory but as an imposed condition. A systematic erasure of genealogies, tactics and embodied knowledge that once enabled resistance. Thus, while performing our multiple selves, we must be reminded that we risk losing our own genealogy and archives. If we forget the weapons, methods and traps of our oppressors we are vulnerable to be influenced. Before we know it, the traps of predators are distracting us to express our online selves, biting away fragments of our memory while slipping through the mirror, into the dark forest.

What we learn from Alice is that forgetting is not a failure of the self, but a condition produced by disorientation, speed, and excess. Memory dissolves not because identity is weak, but because the environment demands constant adaptation without pause for inscription. In this sense, Alice’s amnesia mirrors our own: an identity stretched across platforms, urged to perform while losing continuity. Against this erasure, feminist remembrance, through archiving, citation, and embodied recall, becomes an act of resistance. To remember one’s genealogy is to slow down the fall, to leave traces while slipping through the mirror, and to reclaim authorship over a self that refuses to be fully captured by algorithmic time. Only by remaining anchored in our own genealogies, attuned to the multiplicity that already inhabits us, can we extend our multiples selves online. From this grounded remembering, digital selves do not fragment into isolated performances but remain relational, accountable, and capable of carrying meaning stemming from our creative source

Making art in the most unusual digital environments

In parallel with identity-based artistic production, each version of ourselves rendered through platforms can form its own creative expression. Our online multitudes move through new affective states, thoughts, and experiences, which, though digitally archived, remain archived within embodied memory. In response to the dominating influence of technological infrastructures, multimedia artists carry a responsibility to mobilize online personae as agents of friction within digital environments. Ursula Le Guin elaborates in the Carrier Bag Theory of fiction, if one sees technology less as a linear, progressive time-killing weapon of domination and treats it as a carrier bag, it breaks the rigid structure and narrow perspective embedded in narratives about science and technology (Le Guin; 1986). Using the same skills we have learned in our process of rendering multiple online selves, we hold the knowledge to decontextualise the platforms through our creative expression. As Benjamin Bratton asserts, the task is not to resist, but redesign (Bratton, 2015).

Digital systems increasingly shape the formation of the self, to such an extent that many members of Generation Z – the so-called “digital natives”- report feeling more authentically themselves online than offline (Frommer, 2024). In Simulacra and Simulation, Jean Baudrillard argues that the overproduction of culture, signs, and images has displaced the real, producing a condition of hyperreality (Baudrillard, 1981). For digital natives, this condition is no longer theoretical but lived; reality has already been reselected and reconfigured. This shift urges a responsibility to cultivate attentive pathways for guiding new generations of users through the dark forest of the internet. Challenged by disorientation, caught in the treadmill of content, seduced by algorithmic cunning and AI manipulation, and depleted of the desire to create, those given a carrier bag retain the tool to safely explore. Archiving traces of online selves is an essential aspect of not losing a thread of connections between digital multitudes and the embodied self. Acts of recollection guard against amnesia, offering orientation and steadiness within the dark forest rather than escape from it.

This journey is especially challenging for a new generation of photographers and artists like Tianjun Li. While trying to embrace new generative AI tools and their potential, artists working with photography are faced to question the value of their creative work. Thus, in order to distinguish his work from AI generative one, Li has acknowledged that value lies in his creative process. Travels he has taken to take a photo, crossing a border to knock on that stranger’s door, the breaths he has kept for that still shot, laying in the grass waiting for that insect. However, he does not negate the potential of generative and digital tools and platforms, simply highlights the importance of navigating them with clarity and intention. “It’s not about resisting change, but about moving thoughtfully within it- choosing slowness when needed, crafting honest digital presences, and carving space for vulnerable, complex, and human expressions in an increasingly algorithmic world.” (Li, 2026)

Drawing on my lived experience of digital platforms, I seek to situate my contemporary encounters in relation to those of my ancestors. This search for continuity guides my navigation through the dark forest, while my own identity functions as a vessel through which platforms are demystified, reflected upon, and critically reworked. This methodology is most clearly articulated in my project Why Wouldn’t You Date Me?, developed through a year-long engagement with dating applications such as Tinder, Hinge, and Feeld.

As a final performance I went on a series of dates with strangers that I met through dating apps. The dates were live streamed and projected in a public space in my hometown. While watching, the audience could use the app to send us live commands impacting the dates. Performance reimagined a Balkan courting tradition in which the presence and surveillance of family members during the courting process shaped the behaviours of the courting couple. Today, as partner-seeking shifts to digital platforms, what was once directed by the extended family is now governed by the algorithm. By investigating alternative uses of streaming technologies, the project challenged the gamification of intimacy embedded within dating platforms. I used the transforming nature of my identity to connect my experience of my dating apps to my experience Balkan women. I become Alice falling down the rabbit hole of digital dating, re-enacting traditional courting rituals through digital platforms to highlight the parallels of algorithmic and patriarchal authority.

All of our multitudes, though shaped through the synthetic processes of platforms, retain the capacity to form new modes of connection grounded in embodied experience, affect, and presence. When platform-produced identities are treated not as instruments of optimization or domination but as contents of a carrier bag, capable of holding archives, genealogies, and alternative logics, the linear narrative of technological progress begins to fracture. Within this shift, redesign replaces resistance as a method of engagement. To navigate the dark forest without becoming disoriented requires carrying one’s archive close to the body. Acts of recollection preserve continuity between digital multitudes and the embodied self, guarding against amnesia while allowing movement within technological systems. In this sense, navigating platforms becomes an ethical and creative practice: not an escape from mediation, but a deliberate reorientation within it, where meaning remains open to being reconfigured.

Growing rebellion with digital environments

Stretched, expanded, shrunk, enlarged, extended, condensed, compressed, dissected, fragmented… Sucked through screens and poured into the mould of the platform interface. Rigid mould made out of coded protocols, latent ideology and systemic control. We find ourselves travelling the narrow spaces of millions of fibre optic cables while left to survive without a user manual. All of our multiple selves have been trained by the oppressive systems disguised as connection. This connection itself contains the same power to reconfigure the identity. All that is needed for us to disrupt the process of identity production has been encoded within us. By inhibiting the platforms we already collected all the tools, shapes and transfigurative methods in our carrier bag. From this starting point a brewing potential of rebellion within digital platforms can be formed.

Elasticity operates as a mode of resistance against breaking. In physics, elasticity describes a body’s capacity to withstand distortion and to return to its original state once an external force is withdrawn (Landau & Lifshitz, 1986). When pressed by the mould of the platform, identity stretches and temporarily conforms, compromising itself to the shapes the platform demands in order to become legible and expressible within its constraints. Yet this moment of reconfiguration need not occur only in response to the platform’s demands. Elasticity also enables agency or rather the capacity to deliberately shapeshift in the face of coercive pressure. Rather than yielding to the platform’s formative force, we can mobilize transformation as a strategy against it.

This logic is mirrored in the ending of Alice in Wonderland, during Alice’s confrontation with the Red Queen and her card soldiers. Overwhelmed by the brutality of the trial, Alice momentarily forgets that her experience of re-configuration enables her to rebalance the power in order to push back the confines of the situation she finds herself in. Upon remembering her capacity to reshape, she summons an immense version of herself and deploys scale as resistance. By overwhelming the court through her size, she destabilizes its authority and forces it to flee. In this convergence, elasticity becomes more than adaptive flexibility; it emerges as an active tactic. Transformation, when claimed rather than imposed, turns distortion into power and pressure into possibility.

If a platform operates as a mould producing process, one can simply reach in their carrier bag and replace an expected mould with the one which does not belong. This breaking of a cycle is not simply a naive defiance. It is a deliberate insertion of an unexpected self into a space that demands conformity. As a result, we are breaking the flattening narrative of platform production identity by building new connections. Such brave acts create meadows of hope and rejuvenate the desire to create, to make and express. As Nika Rukavina explains in her text: “art is a profound bridge connecting people to their innermost selves. It reflects a human experience, capturing our emotions, stories and imagination which transcends language and time” (Rukavina, 2026). To create art by displacing versions of our multitudes within already existing platforms is a reparative act. Introducing a version of oneself into a space where that version does not conform to the expected norm is not only a means of building bridges between our innermost and multiple selves; it is also a way of forging connections with others shaped by the same infrastructural constraints. As life grows increasingly complex and the roots of the dark forest extend beyond the horizon, the narrowing of identity imposed by platforms paradoxically generates new points of contact. The ability to flow through the overgrowing roots and by displacing the visions of ourselves we create the disruptive bridges of the connection between our multitudes and the multitudes of others, reworking the very networks that once sought to contain us.

Avaa haitari Sulje haitari

Baudrillard, J. (1981). Simulacra and Simulation. University Of Michigan Press.

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Benjamin, W. (1940). Theses on the philosophy of history. In Illuminations (H. Zohn, Trans., pp. 253–264). Harcourt Brace Jovanovich.

Bratton, B. H. (2016). The Stack. MIT Press.

Brettoni, A. (2026). Accessibility online-Equal rights to digital media. Forms of presence – best practices for media use from artists to artists in Europe. Lapland UAS. Accessibility online

Briffa, K. (2026). Best practices for media. Forms of presence – best practices for media use from artists to artists in Europe. Lapland UAS. Accessibility online

Carroll, L. (1865). Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. Macmillan.

Carroll, L. (1871). Through the looking-glass, and what Alice found there. Macmillan.

Koivunen, K. (2026). Building professional brand on social media Forms of presence – best practices for media use from artists to artists in Europe. Lapland UAS. Accessibility online

Konior, B. (2020). The dark forest theory of the internet (Flugschriften, Vol. 6). Flugschriften.

Krcelic, I. (2026). Who is a professional artist In Forms of presence – best practices for media use from artists to artists in Europe. Lapland UAS. Accessibility online

Landau, L. D., & Lifshitz, E. M. (1986). Theory of elasticity (3rd ed., Vol. 7). Pergamon Press.

Land, N. (2011). Machinic desire. In R. Mackay & R. Brassier (Eds.), Fanged noumena: Collected writings 1987–2007 (pp. 319–337). Urbanomic/Sequence Press.

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Who is a professional artist?

IRENA KRČELIĆ, Residency artist at Turku, autumn 2023

The term ”professional artist” might seem straightforward at first glance, suggesting a person who earns a living through their art. However, The Clark Hulings Fund’s 2019 Report on the Working Artist proposes a more nuanced definition, taking into account both market validation and professional intent.

A professional artist is defined, as the Report suggests, as someone who actively sells their work, thereby demonstrating its commercial viability, and aspires to earn their primary income from their artistic practice.

This definition recognizes the complex reality where many artists engage in additional jobs to sustain themselves, such as teaching, bartending, or relying on a spouse or parent’s income, while maintaining a primary focus on their artistic skillsets.

Additionally, the path to becoming a professional artist often defies the conventional expectation of formal arts education as a necessary precursor.

Figure 1.

The 2014 Artists Report Back report reveals that in the United States, 40% of working artists do not possess bachelor’s degrees in any field, and only 16% hold degrees specifically related to the arts.

This statistic challenges the conventional narrative and underscores the diverse and non-linear paths artists frequently take to professionalize their practice.

Thus, while the term ”professional artist” might initially seem simple, it is anything but straightforward.

For comparison, imagine a scenario where a survey on dentists reveals that a professional dentist is characterized as someone who provides dental services and aspires to earn their primary income from their dentistry practice. However, in reality, they must engage in additional jobs, such as bartending or relying on a spouse or parent’s income, to sustain themselves.

Additionally, imagine that 40% of working professional dentists do not possess bachelor’s degrees in any field, and only 16% have degrees specifically related to dentistry.

We would find this scenario absurd and completely unacceptable for dentists, lawyers, architects, and other professions, yet such a situation is normalized in the field of art due to several factors, the most important of which is a lack of meaningful regulations.

The use of American statistics is deliberate, primarily because the American art market has a unifying language, simplifying the analysis.

The situation in Europe is markedly more complex, and the statistics emerging from here are even more disheartening.

The diversity of languages and cultural contexts in Europe adds layers of complexity to the art market, making it harder to navigate. Consequently, the data from Europe paints an even grimmer picture of the professional viability for artists.

The bottom line is striking: only about 1 in 10 art graduates, from both sides of the Atlantic, will continue in the field and work as a professional artist.

This points to a significant flaw within the educational system. It’s not just a matter of artists struggling to find their place in the market; it’s also about how art education is structured and it´s disconnected from the realities of the art market.

Data from the Clark Hulings Fund’s Report on the Working Artist makes it undeniably evident that artists are essentially entrepreneurs.

They have specific needs and requirements to flourish and prosper in their field. Yet, the current educational programs seem ill-equipped to prepare them for these challenges. They often fail to provide the necessary skills and knowledge for artists to navigate the business side of their profession.

This gap in education contributes to the low rate of art graduates who manage to sustain themselves in the art world.

Therefore, it’s clear that a major overhaul of the educational approach to arts is needed, one that aligns more closely with the real demands of thriving as an artist in today’s world.

At the moment, there are 1,358 of us active professional artists in the Association, and our work and impact are being reassessed every four years.

Membership in the Association comes with several benefits, particularly in terms of financial and social security support. Artists are eligible for various tax benefits, and the Ministry of Culture covers the artists’ health insurance and pension funds, addressing major concerns like healthcare and retirement security for self-employed artists.

Such support is aimed at providing a safety net to encourage more sustained and focused creative work, at least in theory. In practice, however, an artist would have to be naive to rely on this support. For instance, the retirement plan provided yields a monthly pension of only 200-250 EUR, which is below the poverty line, and the other benefits are similarly minimal, offering little meaningful support.

These two paths reflect a dual approach in Croatia’s cultural policy: one that allows easy entry into the art world for virtually anyone, and another that offers at least some tangible benefits and support for the professional artist.

Two interesting examples from Croatia

TISJA KLJAKOVIĆ BRAIĆ

Tisja Kljaković Braić, a prolific artist, painter, writer, and illustrator with over two decades of presence in the Croatian art scene, offers a compelling example of finding the sweet spot between artistic authenticity and market demand. Her breakthrough moment came about five years ago, in what appeared to be an ’overnight success’ that made Braić a household name in just a few months.

The turning point was Braić’s decision to start post witty caricatures of Mediterranean marital life on social media, simply titled ’They,’ which playfully addressed the everyday life of an elderly couple.

Figure 2. Book Cover

What made Braić’s work deeply resonate with the audience was her unique blend of humor and cultural specificity. Infused with the distinct dialect and temperament of the Dalmatia region, her work, characterized by distinctive simple lines and shapes, struck a chord, captivated the audience with openness, brazenness, honesty, and humor.

Figure 3. Don’t eat! We have to take a picture first.

This reflects the power of understanding one’s audience and adapting one’s creative expression without losing the essence of one’s artistic voice.

Braić’s ability to tap into the pulse of what the market was hungry for, while staying true to her artistic sensibility, sets her apart as an example of successfully navigating the complex interplay of creative expression and business side of it.

BITE ART

Visual artist Ana Šerić, a graduate from the Academy of Fine Arts in Zagreb, through her innovative ”Edible Art” project, has carved a unique niche in the Croatian art scene.
 Her creation, BITE ART, represents a fusion of culinary delight and visual arts promotion. It stands out as an innovative combination of traditional craftsmanship and modern art, in an effort to help the works of Croatian visual artists become more accessible and visible.”Edible Art” project, has carved a unique niche in the Croatian art scene.

Figure 4. “Edible Art” project. Bite Art.

The success of BITE ART lies in its ability to encapsulate the essence of national culture in a single attractive product.

By embedding art pieces into a traditional Croatian spicy pepper cookie, (paprenjak) Šerić has not only broadened the reach of Croatian visual art but also introduced a novel concept that bridges the gap between art and the public. In doing so, she has tapped into an unmet market need, securing the commercial viability by filling a painfully missing gap for accessible art souvenirs.

Šerić’s approach exemplifies how artists can explore unconventional mediums to create meaningful and successful art projects that resonate with the target audience.

Figure 5. Hrvoje Majer – Mysterious landscapes   Hrvoje Majer is a painter of the quietest things, like portraits of mysterious young men full of untold stories, meditating in the midst of the solemn sanctuary called Nature. On a stage bursting with bright neon green they live their silent lives in a world skillfully created by one of the most sensitive Croatian young artists of today.

Figure 6. BITE ART – Marko Tadić – Memory reconstruction   Marko Tadić patiently creates his own private worlds, each with its original narrative told in a form of strict, almost monochromatic collages or articulate drawings made on old maps, postcards and photographs. Reduced to an archetypal level, his works elude simple and straightforward explanations…like dreams usually do.

Figure 7. BITE ART Ana Kolega – The Sea and Love   Ana Kolega invites you on a journey to Dalmatia of the past: a colorful flashback packed with jovial ships, sailors in their striped shirts, patient brides and a galore of goodbye kisses. Her painted stories are like old sentimental movies – nothing strange for such a die-hard romantic and passionate tango dancer that is Ana.

Figure 8. BITE ART – OKO – Prophets     OKO is a fine artist that often combine different urban and street techniques. Although she is an accomplished draftswoman – just take a look at the virtuoso style of her surreal portraits – she indulges in installations and performances as well. Mysterious and self-effacing, OKO is always bound to surprise our senses.

New kids on the block

To thrive, artists must not only master their chosen medium but also navigate the complexities of the business world.

The advent of digital media has introduced new opportunities in this landscape. Digital platforms have democratized art, allowing artist to reach global audiences without traditional gatekeepers like galleries or agents.

However, the real game changer comes with blockchain technology, which offers a revolutionary way to manage copyright and authenticate works. This empowers artists like never before, giving them the ability to retain complete control over their work and earn royalties directly, even from secondary sales. This system effectively cuts out the middleman, ensuring that artists receive their rightful share from each sale or resale of their work.

This new model, while still evolving, represents a significant shift towards a more equitable and artist-centric art market, and it is very exciting to see what changes it will bring

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Toward a fairer future for artists

Nika Rukavina
Residency artist on Lapland, autumn 2024

Who is an artist?

When asked to write about who qualifies as an artist, I found myself grappling with the broader, more complex question: what is art, and why is it important, and how do we as artists navigate the complex dynamic of our work?  These questions are neither new nor easy to answer, but they are essential to understanding the role of artists in society.

Art in general, and only from my personal perspective, is a profound bridge connecting people to their innermost selves. It reflects human experience, capturing our emotions, stories, and imaginations in ways that transcend language and time. It’s no wonder that art takes so many forms and continues to thrive, even when financial profit is not the driving force behind its creation.

By this understanding, anyone who finds creative ways to express themselves could be considered an artist. However, choosing art as profession requires much more: dedication, skill, and often the ability to navigate complex systems to earn a living through art. The distinction between doing art and trying to live of art is not only about talent but also about the economic and social structures that define art as a career.

Challenges for professional artists in the EU

Defining what it means to be an artist—and who qualifies as one—is a matter of debate across Europe. Each EU member state has its own definitions and criteria, which complicates efforts to create consistent policies. These discrepancies became glaringly apparent during the COVID-19 crisis, which exposed the vulnerabilities of artist and cultural workers across the continent. In the conclusion of the Work Plan for Culture 2019-2022 it was stated that Europe must build on its creative and cultural assets. The mobility of artists and cultural and creative professionals, the circulation and translation of European content, training and talent development, fair pay and working conditions, access to finance and cross-border cooperation are issues of specific interest for research and exchange at European level.

To be aware of art as an abstract outcome is to be aware of art as a working material, process and pro-duction of artwork, and here we face the precarious work precarious, characterized by project-based employment, fluctuating income, and limited social protections. Many artists are self-employed or work part-time, combining multiple jobs to make ends meet. Unlike salaried employees, they often lack access to health insurance, pensions, or paid leave. This fragility is compounded by the unpredictable nature of artistic success and the fact that a lot of artists do their work solely because of passion and love they have for their work, which is rarely driven by market demand alone.

Addressing these issues requires a coordinated, EU-wide approach. The EU Work Plan for Culture 2019–2022 highlighted the need for systemic changes, but progress has been uneven. For example, Luxembourg provides continuous financial support to its artists, while Ireland launched a “Basic Income for the Arts” pilot program in 2022. These initiatives show promise, but without overarching EU legislation, disparities remain, leaving many artists struggling to navigate inconsistent systems across member states. In the EU culture plan for 2023-2026 there is stated that now more than ever, there is an urgent need to further strengthen the resilience of the CCS (Strong cultural and creative sectors), to support their recovery and diversity, to encourage their engagement with the sustainability objectives, to capitalize on new trends accelerated by the pandemic, including in the digital environment, and to ensure fair working conditions for all cultural and creative professionals so that more voices can be heard from this independent and dynamic sector

On the charts below you can see the benefits the artists get in their respective counties’, the data is from EU work plan for 2019- 2022 so some of the data might have changed.

Figure 1. OMC Survey. The benefits the artists get in their respective counties.

Figure 2. OMC Survey. Which benefits are part of a specific social security regime for artist

Fair pay and persistent inequities

Although some unspoken and non-official price list for artists exist, and here I’m talking of state institutions and not private galleries, they are often insufficient or unevenly applied. Not all EU countries pay exhibition fees, for instance, and artists frequently shoulder the costs of producing and transporting their work. This is particularly frustrating when collaborating with large, well-funded institutions that pay their staff but expect artists to contribute for free—or for the “honor” of exhibiting.

In addition, artists also perform significant invisible labor beyond the creative process that includes: writing grant applications and project proposals (I write about 20 applications a year), which require considerable time, effort, and expertise. In many cases, artists also act as technicians for their own exhibitions—installing, adjusting, and maintaining their work to ensure it is presented effectively. Frequently, they are responsible for transporting their artwork to exhibition spaces and covering associated costs, such as travel and lodging, which are rarely reimbursed.

Adding to this burden, most artists handle their own taxes and administrative tasks, from invoicing to financial planning. These responsibilities demand skills outside the artistic domain, yet they are an unavoidable part of sustaining a career. Despite their critical importance to the functioning of the art ecosystem, this is what means invisible labor which goes unrecognized and uncompensated, further amplifying the challenges of being a professional artist.

Pathways to becoming a professional artist in Croatia

In Croatia, there are several pathways to becoming a professional artist, each with its own opportunities and challenges:

Croatian Association of Artists (HDLU) and some is a national organization that supports professional artists. Academy of Fine Arts graduates are automatically eligible for membership, while others can apply by submitting a portfolio for review. Membership provides access to key benefits, such as exhibition opportunities, networking, and tax advantages for art sales. Notably, HDLU membership is a prerequisite for applying for Independent Artist Status through the Croatian Freelance Artists’ Association (HZSU).

And the last one is attaining HZSU Status: This status offers significant benefits, including government contributions to pensions, health insurance, and maternity or sick leave. While the pension payments are modest, the status provides a crucial safety net, particularly for artists facing health issues or family responsibilities. HZSU members also gain tax advantages and the option to enter the VAT system, which allows them to issue invoices independently.

There are other artist associations that play the same role of HDLU as a bridge to get to HZSU and the whole system is from the time when we were in Yugoslavia.

There is also a possibility to open an artist run NGO which has it’s one set of rules and regulations but is good for applying to government’s funds, that has open calls for funding NGOs.

And you can register as a Small Business, as independent business owners who managing their work under specific tax and regulatory frameworks. This pathway offers flexibility but also comes with administrative responsibilities.

Despite these pathways, the system in Croatia has significant gaps. Artists often face inconsistent compensation, limited social protection, and bureaucratic hurdles that make it difficult to sustain a career.

Public funding for culture in Croatia

Public funding is the cornerstone of cultural production in Croatia, especially for non-commercial and nonprofit initiatives. Key funding sources include:

• Ministry of Culture and Media: Provides annual grants for cultural projects, including visual arts, film, and literature.
• Local and Regional Governments: Cities like Zagreb and Rijeka allocate budgets for community-based cultural programs.
• Specialized Organizations: Foundations such as Kultura Nova and Solidarna support contemporary arts and civil society initiatives.
• Croatian Audiovisual Centre (HAVC): Offers funding for film production and promotion.

Despite these resources, many artists still struggle to access sufficient funding, particularly in fields like visual arts, where the market is almost nonexistent. Most Croatian visual artists work as project-based freelancers that rely on EU projects, residencies, international galleries for representation.

The realities of being an artist in Croatia

The precariousness of artistic work in Croatia is starkly illustrated by research like “How Do Women Artists Live in Croatia?” by Selma Banich and Nina Gojić. Their findingsb   reveal that:

• **83%** of artists struggle to cover basic living expenses.
• **68%** lack permanent housing, and many use their living spaces as workspaces.
• **48%** have experienced workplace discrimination, often based on gender or minority status.

Figure 3. “How Do Women Artists Live in Croatia?” by Selma Banich and Nina Gojić.

These challenges highlight the pressing need for systemic reforms, particularly in the way large state institutions treat artists. A powerful example of artists addressing these inequities was the 2023 and ongoing protest performance The Invisible Ones.

The performance was staged during the opening of The Visible Ones exhibition at the Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art in Rijeka. The Visible ones is an inter – institutional project and exhibition that represents more than hundred Croatian women artists, studies and indicates the pronouncedly low representation of women artists in art collections of museum and institutions and also presents certain aspects and mapping of the contemporary artistic practice of women artists in Croatia.

This unannounced action involved five artists—Milijana Babić, Branka Cvjetičanin, Tajči Čekade, Nadija Mustapić, and Nika Rukavina—arriving at the exhibition with paper bags covering their heads. By concealing their identities, the artists symbolized their invisibility within the exhibition they were a part of. Through a press release distributed after the event, the artists revealed their identities and articulated their grievances. Their protest drew attention to systemic shortcomings, including inadequate communication between curators and artists, the exclusion of artists from decision-making processes, and a general lack of respect for the labor behind artistic production. The performance directly critiqued the institutions organizational practices, highlighting the disconnection between institutional leadership and the artists whose work sustains these institutions.

# Invisible Ones resonated deeply with cultural workers, as it illuminated broader issues of exploitation and invisibility in the art world. This protest also sparked public discourse about the inequities within Croatia’s cultural system and the role of institutions in perpetuating them.

The performance is emblematic of the ongoing struggle for artists’ rights and dignity within the cultural sector. It underscores the need for a reimagining of institutional practices, where artists are not merely contributors of content but are recognized as central stakeholders. True reform would require institutions to establish transparent and equitable working conditions, honor professional fee schedules, and create platforms for meaningful dialogue with artists.

By making their voices heard through acts like all those mentioned in examples, artists remind the public and cultural policymakers that institutions exist because of their labor and creativity. Until these systemic issues are addressed, such performances will continue to serve as poignant reminders of the changes necessary to ensure fairness, respect, and sustainability for cultural workers.

Figure 4. The Visible Ones exhibition at the Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art in Rijeka.

Advocacy and the fight for fair cultural work

In response to these challenges, Croatian artists and cultural workers have mobilized to demand fairer working conditions especially the practice of paying artist fee, which should become a standard.

There are different movements for a more fare work conditions and one of them is the Platform FOR B.R.E.A.D. (ZA K.R.U.H.) that is a coalition that unites artists in the fight for dignified labor rights and sustainable public funding for culture. Founded in 2020 during the pandemic, the platform builds on earlier movements like the 2019 “Enough Cuts!” initiative, which opposed austerity measures affecting the cultural sector.

The platform’s goals include:

• Securing increased and transparent public funding for culture.
• Ensuring fair compensation for artistic work, including honoraria for publicly funded projects.
• Protecting tax exemptions for artists without negatively affecting their pension accruals.
• Improving access to social protections, such as sick pay, maternity leave, and pensions.
• Introducing basic income programs for underserved artistic professions.
• Addressing systemic discrimination and pay inequities within the cultural sector.

Toward a fairer future for artists

The road ahead requires not only local action but also coordinated efforts at the EU level to address the structural inequalities that hinder artists across Europe, ensuring that the dignity of art and artists are protected within the context of upgraded cultural policies among European countries. Cultural work is not just a matter of supporting artists—it is an investment in the cultural richness and social fabric of our societies.

So who is an artist? By defining your work, you are defining your realities… Don’t let the system define you … And yes, art is job!

Personal stand on visual art and media

On the topic of art and media, I can only share my personal view on the subject. I believe that media and social media are important tools for visual artists to gain visibility, especially if they live in smaller cities or countries. However, they are not the sole determinants of success. Today, art is largely project-based, and until an artist reaches the stage of being “profitable” (I’m not happy with this word cos I don’t think art should be based on profit but on emotional exchange) for a gallery or institution, the path to success often lies not through media but through building connections with curators, institutions, and other professionals.

Additionally, since we, as artists, are in some ways part of the ”product” along with our art, it is crucial to teach younger generations to maintain a clear boundary between what they do and who they are. The online world and its critics can be harsh, and young artists need to learn how to cope not only with professional art criticism but also with the random, often harsh opinions found online. Through my work with students, I’ve noticed that many of them avoid social media altogether because of this.

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Social media, media, and media readership

Luca Cacini
Recidency artist on Lapland, autumn 2024

Social media, media, and media readership in Italy

Italy’s media landscape is a dynamic and evolving environment, influenced by technological progress, shifts in consumer behaviour, and distinct cultural factors. This report will examine key elements of social media, traditional media, and media consumption in Italy, as well as investigate the role of artists in Italian culture and their interactions with the media.

The italian media landscape

Television and radio

Television continues to be a major force in Italy, with 95.9% of the population regularly watching it (EBC, 2023). The sector is mainly led by two major broadcasters:

1. RAI (Radiotelevisione Italiana): The public service broadcaster operates several national channels, including Rai Uno, Rai Due, and Rai Tre (BBC news, 2023).
2. Mediaset: The leading private broadcaster, owned by the Berlusconi family, runs channels like Italia 1, Rete 4, and Canale 5 (BBC news, 2023).

Radio also has a strong presence in Italy, with 78.9% of Italians listening regularly (EBC, 2023). The radio sector includes both public (RAI) and private stations, offering a mix of news, music, and entertainment content.

Print media

Italy’s print media landscape is strongly regionalized, mirroring the country’s varied regional history and identity (BBC news, 2023). Prominent national newspapers include:

• Corriere della Sera
• La Repubblica
• Il Messaggero
• La Stampa
• Il Sole 24 Ore

However, the print media sector has encountered considerable challenges in recent years. Physical newspaper readership has dropped by 3.4%, while digital newspaper subscriptions have decreased by 2.5% (EBC, 2023). This decline is part of a wider trend of increasing digital media consumption.

Digital media

The Digital 2024: Italy report provides comprehensive data on digital adoption and usage in Italy for 2024. Here are the key highlights:

Internet Usage

• 51.56 million internet users (87.7% penetration)
• Internet users decreased by 149,000 (-0.3%) from 2023 to 2024

Social media

• Social networks have become significant sources of news for many Italians, with

42.80 million social media users in January 2024 (72.8% of the population) who habitually use them to access content (Kemp, 2024).

• Social media users decreased by 1.1 million (-2.5%) from 2023 to 2024

YouTube remains the most popular social network in Italy, with approximately 42.80 million users (Kemp, 2024). Other popular platforms include (Statista 2025):

Platform-Specific Data

• Facebook: 26.10 million users
• YouTube: 42.80 million users
• Instagram: 27.00 million users
• TikTok: 20.92 million users (18+ only)
• LinkedIn: 20.00 million members
• Snapchat: 3.69 million users
• X (Twitter): 6.50 million users
• Pinterest: 10.01 million users

Artists in Italy: profession and income

Professional artists in Italy

Italy has a rich artistic heritage and continues to be home to many talented artists across various disciplines, including visual arts, music, literature, and performing arts. The country’s artistic community is diverse, ranging from traditional craftsmen preserving centuries-old techniques to contemporary artists pushing the boundaries of their mediums.

Income for artists

Artists in Italy, like in many other countries, often face challenges in making a stable living from their art. According to salary data in Italy, the gross monthly salary for jobs in Arts & Culture generally ranges from 1,138 EUR (minimum) to 3,083 EUR (highest average, with actual maximum salaries often exceeding this). These figures include bonuses, and salaries can vary significantly depending on the specific job role (Paylab, 2026).

However, it’s important to note that these figures can vary greatly depending on factors such as the artist’s reputation, medium, and market demand.

Artists in Italy can generate income through various means:

1. Sales of artwork
2. Commissions for public or private projects
3. Grants and residencies
4. Teaching or workshops
5. Collaborations with businesses or other artists
6. Royalties from reproductions or licensing of their work

Many artists supplement their income from art with other jobs, especially in the early stages of their careers.

Media representation of art and artists in Italy

Italy’s rich artistic heritage means that art and artists often receive significant attention in the media. Coverage can be found across various platforms:

1. Dedicated arts programs on television and radio
2. Arts and culture sections in major newspapers and magazines
3. Specialized art publications and websites
4. Features and interviews with artists in lifestyle media
5. Social media accounts and hashtags focused on Italian art and artists

The media often highlights both established artists and emerging talents, covering exhibitions, art fairs, and major cultural events. However, the level of coverage can vary depending on the artist’s profile and the perceived public interest in their work.

Impact of media presence on artist incomes

A strong media presence can significantly impact an artist’s income potential in Italy. Media coverage can:

1. Increase visibility and recognition
2. Attract potential buyers and collectors
3. Lead to opportunities for exhibitions or commissions
4. Enhance the artist’s reputation and perceived value
5. Facilitate connections with galleries, curators, and other art world professionals

However, it’s important to note that media presence alone doesn’t guarantee financial success. Artists still need to produce high-quality work and navigate the business aspects of their careers effectively.

Creating media relationships in Italy

For artists and other professionals looking to build media relationships in Italy, several strategies can be effective:

1. Develop a strong online presence through a professional website and active social media accounts
2. Cultivate relationships with journalists and critics specializing in arts and culture
3. Participate in high-profile events and exhibitions
4. Collaborate with other artists or organizations to increase visibility
5. Create newsworthy projects or initiatives that align with current trends or social issues
6. Engage with local and regional media, given the importance of regional identity in Italian culture
7. Consider working with a publicist or PR professional who understands the Italian media landscape.

Social media use in Italy

Social media plays a significant role in Italian society, with platforms like Facebook, Instagram, and YouTube being particularly popular. Some notable trends and examples of social media use in Italy include:

1. News consumption: the majority of Italians source their news from the web, with social networks being particularly popular gateways (Kemp, 2024).
2. Political engagement: Social media platforms, especially Facebook, have become crucial tools for organizing protests and other mass gatherings (Freedom House, 2024).
3. Influencer marketing: Italian influencers across various niches have built substantial followings and partnerships with brands.
4. Cultural promotion: Many Italian cultural institutions and artists use social media to showcase their work and engage with audiences.
5. Local community engagement: Social media groups focused on specific towns or regions are popular for sharing local news and information.

Media trustworthiness in Italy

Italy’s political system is characterized by a complex multifaceted structure.

While civil liberties are generally upheld, there are ongoing concerns regarding the rights of migrants and LGBT+ individuals. Significant regional disparities remain, and issues such as corruption and organized crime continue to challenge the rule of law and hinder economic growth. The trustworthiness of media in Italy is a complex issue, with varying levels of trust across different platforms and outlets. Some key points to consider:

1. ANSA, Italy’s top news agency, has been ranked as the most trusted news brand for seven consecutive years, with 75% of Italians trusting it (Cornia, 2024). Other highly trusted news sources include SkyTg24 (69% trust), Il Sole 24 Ore (67%), and TG La7 (62%) (Cornia, 2024).
2. Traditional media, particularly quality newspapers and public broadcasting, generally maintain higher levels of trust compared to digital-native outlets and social media.
3. Concerns about misinformation and ”fake news” on social media platforms have led to increased scrutiny and fact-checking initiatives.
4. The concentration of media ownership, particularly in television, has sometimes led to concerns about political influence on media content (BBC news, 2023).
5. Italy’s polarized political climate can affect perceptions of media bias and trustworthiness along ideological lines.

What are the top European platforms for emerging artists in the visual arts?

Several European platforms offer significant opportunities for emerging visual artists to gain visibility and develop their careers. Here are some of the top platforms:

Creative Europe platforms

The Creative Europe programme funds several platforms supporting visual artists:

European Media Art Platform

• Focuses on digital art, robotics, and other forms of media art
• Offers residencies and exhibition opportunities

Distributed Design Market Platform

• Supports emerging visual artists in the maker movement
• Provides networking and exchange opportunities

PARALLEL and FUTURES

• Two separate platforms dedicated to emerging photographers
• Offer exposure and career development opportunities

SHAPE+

While primarily focused on innovative music, SHAPE+ also supports visual artists working with audiovisual art. It offers:

• Annual selection of exceptional emerging talent
• Performance invitations and collaborative residencies
• Networking events and career development support

European Festivals Fund for Emerging Artists (EFFEA)

EFFEA, an initiative of the European Festivals Association, provides opportunities for visual artists through festivals:

• Supports 150 festivals annually to work with emerging artists
• Offers residencies and collaboration opportunities
• Provides a platform for international career development

These platforms offer emerging visual artists valuable opportunities for residencies, exhibitions, networking, and career advancement across Europe. By participating in these initiatives, artists can gain exposure to diverse audiences and industry professionals, potentially boosting their recognition and success in the international art world.

What types of visual art projects are most commonly supported by these platforms?

European platforms support a diverse range of visual art projects, with a particular focus on emerging and innovative forms. (Cultural relations platform, 2020), (European Commission, 2026), The most commonly supported types of visual art projects include:

Digital and media art

The European Media Art Platform (EMAP) is a major supporter of digital and media art projects. This platform specializes in:

• Digital art
• Media art
• Bio art
• Robotic art

Photography

Two dedicated platforms support emerging photographers:

• PARALLEL – European Photo Based Platform
• FUTURES – European Photography Platform

These platforms offer opportunities for emerging photographers to showcase their work and develop their careers on a European scale.

Audiovisual art

SHAPE (Sound, Heterogeneous Art and Performance in Europe) supports innovative audiovisual art projects, combining visual elements with sound and performance.

Design and maker movement

The Distributed Design Market Platform focuses on supporting visual artists involved in the maker movement. This platform encourages:

• Innovative design projects
• Collaborative and open-source design
• Projects that combine traditional craftsmanship with new technologies

Multidisciplinary visual arts

Many of the platforms support a broad range of visual arts projects that may include:

• Installation art
• Performance art with strong visual elements
• Experimental and cross-disciplinary projects that push the boundaries of traditional visual arts

These platforms prioritize innovative projects, engage with current societal issues, and have the potential to reach diverse audiences across Europe. They often support works that incorporate elements of technology, sustainability, and cross-cultural collaboration.

How do these platforms integrate digital transformation into their visual art projects?

The European platforms for emerging artists are actively integrating digital transformation into their visual art projects in several ways: (NeMe Arts Centre, 2022), (Ars Electronica, 2026), (Creative Europe, 2026), (Oddo&Tucker, 2022), (Culture and Creativity, 2026)

Digital art and media

The European Media Art Platform (EMAP) specifically focuses on digital and media art projects. These projects inherently incorporate digital technologies and explore their impact on art and society.

Innovative technologies

Many platforms encourage artists to experiment with cutting-edge technologies:

• Virtual and augmented reality
• Artificial intelligence
• Interactive installations
• Digital fabrication techniques

For example, the SHAPE+ platform supports audiovisual artists working with innovative digital technologies.

Online exhibitions and virtual spaces

Platforms are increasingly utilizing digital spaces to showcase artworks:

• Virtual galleries
• Online exhibitions
• Interactive web-based projects

This allows for greater accessibility and reach for emerging artists’ work.

Digital tools for creation

Artists are supported in using digital tools throughout their creative process:

• 3D modeling software
• Digital painting and illustration tools
• Video editing and animaation- software

Data-driven art

Some projects incorporate data visualization or data-driven elements:

• Using big data as a medium for artistic expression
• Creating interactive visualizations of complex information

Digital distribution and promotion

Platforms leverage digital channels to promote emerging artists:

• Social media campaigns
• Online portfolios
• Digital catalogs of artworks

Audience engagement through technology

Digital tools are used to enhance audience interaction:

• Mobile apps for exhibition guides
• QR codes for additional information
• Interactive elements in installations

By integrating these digital elements, the platforms are helping emerging visual artists adapt to and thrive in an increasingly digital art world, while also exploring new forms of artistic expression enabled by technology.

Avaa haitari Sulje haitari

Ars Electronica, Ars Electronica Platform Europe, 2026 (23.3.2026) https://ars.electronica.art/europe/en/

Cornia, Alessio, Reuters institute Digital news report 2024 ( 23.3.2026) https://reutersinstitute.politics.ox.ac.uk/digital-news-report/2024/italy

Creative Europe CULTURE strand, European Commission, 2026 (23.3.2026) https://culture.ec.europa.eu/creative-europe/creative-europe-culture-strand

Cultural relations platform, Creative Europe platforms, 2020 (23.3.2026 ) https://www.cultureinexternalrelations.eu/2020/09/21/creative-europe-platforms/

Culture and Creativity: European platforms for the promotion of emerging artists, 2026 (23.3.2026) https://culture.ec.europa.eu/creative-europe/creative-europe-culture-strand/european-platforms

E Business Consulting (EBC): What Media mix in Italy in 2023? (23.3.2026) https://www.e-businessconsulting.it/en/news-details/news/what-media-in-italy/

European Commission: European platforms for the promotion of emerging artists 2026 (23.3.2026) https://culture.ec.europa.eu/creative-europe/creative-europe-culture-strand/european-platforms

Freedom House: Freedom on the net 2024, Italy (23.3.2026) https://freedomhouse.org/country/italy/freedom-net/2024

Italy Media guide- BBC news, 2023 (23.3.2026) https://www.bbc.com/news/world-europe-17433146

Kemp, Simon: Digital 2024: Italy (23.3.2026) https://datareportal.com/reports/digital-2024-italy

NeMe Arts Centre: European Media Art Platform Announces 2022 Selected Artists (23.3.2026) https://www.neme.org/blog/emap-announces-2022-selected-artists

Oddo, Egle and Tucker, Arlene: DISENTANGLING ARCHIVES – How We Are Entering a New Era: The Case of Pixelache Helsinki, 2022 (23.3.2026) https://artdependence.com/articles/disentangling-archives-how-we-are-entering-a-new-era-the-case-of-pixelache-helsinki/

Paylab: Salaries for positions in the Arts&Culture work area, 2026 (23.3.2026) https://www.paylab.com/it/salaryinfo/arts-culture

Statista Research Department, 2025: Preferred social media and messaging apps to read news in Italy as of February 2025 (23.3.2026) https://www.statista.com/statistics/726236/top-social-media-for-news-italy/

Making communities through Artistic Practices in the Digital Era: a continuous challenge and a resource to be explored

Eleonora Serpente and Roberta Di Serio
Residency artists on Split, autumn 2025

Introduction

Figure 1. gruppocorp3 residencies

Our names are Eleonora Serpente and Roberta Di Serio (both born in 1999), we are two contemporary dancers from Italy who together founded the collective gruppocorp3 in 2024.   Since its foundation, the collective has held residencies at cultural centers (Paleotto 11/Ekodanza, Live Arts Cultures, Culture Hub Croatia) and participated in performing arts festivals such as FUORIFORMATO (Genova), LaCampeggia FS CO-CREARE (Bologna), Sotto Venere (Lucca), Tracce di Luce (Isernia), Dominio Pubblico / Fuoriprogramma (Roma). The collective creates, in collaboration with visual artists and musicians, screendance projects, interactive performances and live installations, focusing on the influence that artwork produces on natural, artificial and human environments. Among our interests of research there are the experimentation on the possibilities of the body in movement and of poetic gesture, the contamination between genres and means, the creation of participative, immersive and inclusive artistic practices, the intersectional feminism and ecology in performance art.

Figure 2 and 3. INTRA ( the space between)-Teatro india (RO) Dominico Pubblico/Fuoriprogramma

We are writing this toolkit after the one month creative and artistic residency in Split as part of the Creative Europe project Professional Media Presence (PMP), hosted by the cultural center Culture Hub Croatia [1]. During the residency, we worked on STeReO, a solo performance on the theme of gender stereotypes related to the female body and behaviors. The work involves Eleonora’s dancing body, the use of the voice in various forms (speech, singing, her recorded voice used as a sound environment), and direct communication with the audience.

This period of residency in Split has represented a concrete exploration of what, for us as artists, means producing an artistic work, or more broadly, making art. It opened us to the experience of entering an active community from which we could receive massively and freely, and where we could explore giving something back and how to do it in different forms. As a collective of artists, we believe it is essential to participate in residencies where we can immerse ourselves in the communities of the host locations, not only by taking advantage of spaces, time and resources, but also by actively participating in local cultural activities and proposing new ones. We took part in CHC’s stimulating artistic activities and shared our research not only through a final performance but also through a free workshop open to the community of Split and its surroundings. This work approach is also reflected in our artistic research: we are interested in developing dance works that are not self-referential and aimed solely at aesthetic pleasure but works the question of how to involve people in experiences of sharing, encounter, reflection and care. For us, therefore, community building consists not only in the way we approach the environment and the people we meet (artists workers and not), but also in the very heart of our work. We believe that performances, even if only temporary, can build small and extemporaneous communities, spaces of resistance that oppose the prevailing individualism and widespread loneliness of our contemporary societies. Even though these small communities break up when the performance ends, something of that suspended moment of glances and “theatrical” communication remains and echoes through time: this is, for us, the beauty of performance art, understood not as mere entertainment but as a collective therapeutic form, a ritual of proximity. Based on these ideas, in 2024 we created our first work, INTRA (the space between), a work that speaks of human interdependence. Through a dramaturgy of gazes and closeness, we performers seek an audience interaction that is first hinted at, then more declared. Through intimate dances and gestures, the aim is to make the performance a sounding board, a device for relationships capable of highlighting the infinite lines of connection (physical and emotional) created between bodies that inhabit the same space, even if only for 30 minutes.

Figure 4. INTRA (the space between) – residency restitution at LaCampeggiaFSfestival (BO)

Figure 5. INTRA (the space between) – residency restitution at Live Arts Culture space (VE)

What does “Community” mean today?

Today the term ”community” has become hyper-present in everyday rhetoric, despite the hyper-complexity of the contemporary world continuously transforming this concept and requiring the social sciences to constantly rethink its meaning. The most common meaning of the term ”community” refers to a group of people who share something: geographic belonging, habits, values. However, the traditional idea of community as a homogeneous group seems to be in clear conflict with that of modernity, in which identities appear increasingly fragmented and distant due to the pervasive individualistic and utilitarian tendencies of our societies.

The anthropologists Marco Aime points out that when we refer to the concept of ”community” we almost always do so in a positive sense and with a certain sense of nostalgia, wondering whether this feeling might perhaps be due to the fact that modernity has profoundly changed our way of conceiving the ”we” and relationships with others (Aime: 2010). The concept of community, therefore, is perhaps so often invoked because it, in its traditional meaning, presents itself as a remedy to the dizzying transformations of the contemporary world, which continuously challenge our certainties of identity. Historically, the first blow to the community came with the advent of the urban-industrial society: the expansion of city sizes (whose boundaries become increasingly imperceptible and incomprehensible), workers torn from their families with the arrival of factories, and the urban lifestyle model all lead to a fragmentation of time and space, no longer dictated by shared rhythms but by the demands of production. The speed of productive life makes it difficult to form deep human bonds. The second blow to the community is the advent of the digital society: the development of the Internet and the spread of portable devices such as smartphones and tablets create a constant connection, resulting in alienation from places and people. One is everywhere and nowhere, and physical relationships are often replaced by virtual ones, mediated through screens. Paradoxically, hyper-connection risks getting us lost in a solitary multitude. The paradox lies in the fact that such hyper-connection risks losing us in a solitary multitude.

The decline of communities in contemporary Western society

As globalization and digital capitalism advances, the way we perceive communities and how we perceive ourselves as identities part of a community becomes a complex process that requires ever greater energy to be understood, analyzed and elaborated. From generation-to-generation alienation, individualism and acceleration are elements intensified to the point of creating an inexorable fragmentation of both the self and the “we”. It has become difficult to create lasting relationships in a social system based on a capitalistic model in which the principle is to privatize free time, in which solidarity and mutual aid mechanisms are subordinated to market logics and in which the goal of obtaining everything quickly overcomes time and space needed.

All this being said, we ask ourselves: could virtual communities be considered true communities? What happens when physicality is missing in this field? The problem of bodies and presence remains a crucial point from which it’s difficult to detach in order to critically observe the phenomenon. On the contrary, it becomes a lens: Byung-Chul Han for example, in The Disappearance of Rituals, argues that online communities are kind of ritual gatherings without reunion, rites weakened and deprived of their value attributed by the corporeality of presence, disembodied masses that replace those ceremonies that in ancient times created places and moments of aggregation guided by shared beliefs and pursuits (Han: 2020).

Sherry Turkle, in Alone Together, discusses the concept of missing co-presence and hyper-connection (Turkle: 2012). We are continually bombarded and stimulated by flows of information that require, more than presence, a virtual connection that does not need to be shared in a common place and time. This leads to a crisis of proximity that tends to make us intolerant of solitude, silence, and “off-lineness”, deluding us that we are not already alone in the act of scrolling or browsing the web: the more connected we are, the lonelier we are, and the more alone we are, the more we seek out our network with the sole aim of exploiting the power/advantage it possesses: to expand, indeed deform, the perception of time, reality and solitude. On the other hand, digital communities, such as broadcasts, newsletters, group chats, forums, blogs, fandoms, social platforms etc. emerge from the same shared needs and shared interests of people sometimes sustained, sometimes fleeting.

Online communities should be seen as complements to real-world connections, not as tools to replace them. Rediscovering the value of sharing can help overcome the human impoverishment caused by win-at-all-cost competition and the idea of possession as a mark of success. The widespread forms of contemporary communitarianism, along with the nostalgia for and search for community, show us attempts to move beyond the individualistic model toward a more collective dimension. For this reason, community is often perceived as a safe haven in an overly complex world. If capitalism produces consumer goods, the community should produce relational goods, created and enjoyed together by participants in a given event—neither strictly public nor strictly private—which belongs to the social sphere. All of this requires sharing, coexistence, and reciprocity (Aime:2010).

Relational art, participative art, community art

Since the 1990s, Western art and performance scenes have seen an increasing focus on the relationship between artist and audience, on interaction and social context. This trend, which can be interpreted as a response to the growing individualism and commercialization of art caused by techno-capitalism, has been defined by the renowned French critic Bourriaud as “relational aesthetics”. Bourriaud therefore conceives these artistic practices as moments of conviviality and exchange, temporary social spaces that he defines as “micro-utopias”, in which the public becomes part of the work and completes its meaning (Bourriaud: 1998).

Parallel to these trends, what it has been defined as “participatory art” has developed, which differs from relational art in its more collaborative (participants become co-authors of the works) and political characteristics.

Figure 6 and 7. Odyssey – mobile and interactive intervention by Boijeot, Kardi, Martin at Split Calling (HNK)

Figure 8. Lifting Memories – participatory performance by Tilla Giro at Split Calling (HNK)

Figure 9 and 10. Art workshops for local community by Culture Hub Croatia in PROSTOR, Split (HNK)

Figure 11. Alexandra Stroganova’s workshop, “Tides of Care -Sensing the Hydrocommons”, Split (HNK)

Over the last 15 years, these two trends have intertwined, giving rise to hybrid forms, among which community-based art stands out. Community-based art (also known as community art or social art) is an artistic practice that originates and develops within a specific community, mainly with social aims. It is not simply “participatory” art: it has a deeply territorial and often transformative dimension. For an artistic practice to be defined as “community-based”, it must aim to generate new communities or strengthen bonds within a pre-existing community. Community art practices are now used in a variety of contexts (hospitals, prisons, rehabilitation centers, reception centers, retirement homes, schools, cultural centers) and they are structured according to the needs of the target group. For such practices to be effective, of course, they cannot be short-lived: their durability over time and their ability to generate concrete and lasting benefits for the communities involved are fundamental. Also dance and the performing arts have been affected by these trends in recent years.

Dance artists are increasingly seeking to actively involve audiences and individuals, not only by changing the traditional layout of the performance space and sometimes eliminating the distance between performers and spectators through increasingly immersive and interactive proposals, but also by creating performances featuring non-professionals, for example. When the dance artist is a choreographer and actively involves people (participants in a workshop aimed at creating a performance or the audience of a performance), we talk about participatory dance. When, on the other hand, the dance artist becomes a facilitator of a process that aims to build a new community or strengthen an existing one, then we talk about community dance. Unfortunately, the term “community dance” is often used to refer to practices that have little to do with the expression itself: some artists today use this label to refer to short-term workshops that have very few social objectives, other than to involve people in a performative experience, i.e. an event that is stimulating, exciting and beneficial from many points of view but does not bring the same lasting benefits as a community practice. However, as Zagatti, one of the leading figures in community dance in Italy, argues, it is essential to refer to the objectives and characteristics of community dance as a slow practice, based on listening, co-design, continuity and rooted in the territory, shared history and needs of the participants.

Figure 12, 13 and 14. LUMINOSO / La città autistica – site specific project curated by Virgilio Sieni (BO)

Figure 15, 16 and 17. Dance Well – movement research for Parkinson (VI)

As a collective of dancers, within this framework of trends that we have just outlined, we feel that we want to be part of these contemporary movements in contemporary dance and performing arts and therefore move towards an increasingly authentic and respectful encounter with the people we involve in our work. Our practice does not claim to “build” communities or strengthen others, which is the goal of community dance, but it certainly shares, recognizes and admires the importance and significance of its aims (we hope to be able to implement real and long- lasting community dance projects in the future). At present day, we have created performances that focus on closeness with the audience and on creating communication not mediated by superfluous aesthetics or artificial conventions. Our dance can therefore be defined mainly as “relational” because it aims to encounter people and, to a lesser extent, “participatory” because part of our performances are based on direct interaction with the audience.

As far as “dance” is concerned, apart from the network of artistic collaborations we have been building since we started working, we are certainly aware that performance proposals cannot create a “community” in the traditional sense of the term, but can only create temporary bubbles of encounter, suspended communities whose duration coincides with the duration of the performance event. Nevertheless, we embrace the aims of community dance, and we increasingly hope to move our artistic practices in the same direction, supporting the importance of using the right terms to distinguish between different practices (in order to participate in their socio-cultural recognition).

Performance art and online communities

The encounter between performance art and online communities is not merely a theoretical question for us; it is a condition we inhabit daily as artists moving between physical and digital environments. In recent years, we have witnessed a profound transformation in the concept of presence that is reshaping both the creation of live artistic practices and the ways audiences engage with them.

Peggy Phelan famously argued that performance exists only in its disappearance, in the unrepeatable moment when bodies share a physical space (Phelan, 1993). Yet the increasing migration of performance into digital platforms challenges this notion of vanishing and invites us to rethink what “being present” means today. Philip Auslander has already suggested that the rigid distinction between liveness and mediation is far less stable than it appears: the mediated, even when deferred or filtered through a screen, produces real relations and shapes the spectator’s experience (Auslander, 1999).

Online communities tend to develop their own mechanisms of interaction, allowing viewers to comment, respond, reinterpret and in some cases co-create the work. An Instagram livestream, a recorded action or even a discussion generated under a post can carry traces of relational energy. It is still presence: mediated, distributed, delayed, yet capable of generating connection. This shift also transforms the role of the spectator because digital platforms themselves effectively become stages. Online, viewers are no longer silent observers: they become active interlocutors who contribute with their own content, feedback, creativity, critique, share and story, thanks to the a-synchronicity which offers to overcame national borders and time zones connecting different people, cultures, voices. Henry Jenkins describes such dynamics as participatory culture, ecosystems in which users do not consume content passively but co-make it, establishing a more horizontal and dialogic relationship with artists (Jenkins, 2006).

We could often notice that an unexpected comment opens new readings of a work or that the emotional resonance of a gesture grows precisely within the conversation that unfolds around it. Erika Fischer-Lichte describes performance as an “autopoietic event,” continually generated through the interaction between performer and spectator (Fischer-Lichte, 2008).

Online, this autopoiesis takes on a different form: it does not occur in a physically shared environment but within a fluid network of mediated exchanges. Sometimes this offers new freedoms: a gesture filmed up close reveals micro-expressions invisible in theatre or a loop can create an unprecedented choreographic temporality. Today, however, documentation often serves as the primary mode through which audiences encounter performance art, particularly within online communities: photographs, video excerpts, textual reflections and digital archives circulate widely, shaping the memory and interpretation of a performance. In many cases, the documentation does not merely represent the performance but becomes an integral extension of it, opening pathways for new meanings, discussions and engagements. Documentation, thus, is no longer just a support for memory: it becomes an integral part of the work, far from being a residue because it activates a performative relation between image, artist and spectator. (Amelia Jones, 1997)

Promoting and collaborating: online media as community makers

In this contemporary artistic panorama, the boundary between promotion, collaboration and community formation has grown increasingly absorbent. As we said in the previous section, digital environments have transformed the circulation of artistic work: these platforms have become spaces where relationships form and evolve. Online social media, in fact, offer artists much more than instruments for increasing visibility: they provide structural conditions for building genuine communities. When we share something online, we often realize that promotion is never just promotion: a post, a story or even a short video becomes an invitation for others to step into our creative world, to follow its rhythms, its moments of growth, uncertainty and quiet evolutions.

Showing the process, even in its most informal or fragile form, helps create a sense of continuity that allows spectators to feel included, to sense that they are part of something that is slowly taking shape. In this way, online sharing can generate an early emotional connection, a feeling of being involved long before the final work exists. At the same time, the digital sphere opens up collaboration dialogue that would hardly emerge otherwise: artists can refine ideas in real time, send drafts, discuss intentions, and share materials even when they are in different countries. In this sense, platforms help to create a sense of proximity; the more people interact, the more natural it becomes to imagine doing something together offline, so digital communication does not replace physical collaboration but prepares it, enriches it, and keeps it alive.

Collaboration online, however, does not unfold only between performers and spectators. It increasingly emerges horizontally among artists themselves, who use digital platforms to share opportunities, circulate resources and support one another professionally. Social media therefore become informal infrastructures of mutual aid, where visibility, solidarity, and connection work against the isolation and precarity that often characterize artistic labor. What may begin as a simple gesture of recognition can expand into invitations, shared rehearsals, co-productions, or long-term collaborations, and in this sense, digital spaces do not just facilitate communication: they create conditions in which artists can contribute to each other’s paths, opening access to opportunities that would be difficult to reach individually and making the artistic field more accessible and interconnected.

Online communities, thus, become a “place” where the digital ceases to function simply as a tool and becomes a real space of relationship-building. It grows through a shared archive: photos, behind-the-scenes glimpses, research diaries and snippets of movement become part of an ongoing narrative, they allow communities to follow the evolution of a project and deepen their engagement. A community, however, does not emerge from visibility alone or from the number of followers. Nancy Baym reminds us that digital communities are shaped when users perceive the presence of an authentic self rather than a figure designed solely for exposure (Baym, 2010).

Artists often find that the strongest connections with their audience arise when they reveal their own questions, errors and attempts in a way that these intimate spaces help shift the audience from feeling external to feeling part of something. Of course, promotion does not always generate community: in such cases, due to too distant, too self-celebratory or strategies-shaped contents, promotion remains a one-directional act of communication and does not evolve into a communal environment and yet, when it succeeds, artistic promotion on social media produces forms of gathering similar to what Judith Butler describes as “assemblies”: spaces in which bodies, even when mediated by a screen, come together around a shared imaginary, a common concern, or a gesture that resonates collectively.

Community, then, becomes a natural extension of the dialogue initiated by the content. In conclusion, promoting art on social media can indeed create community and collaborations, provided that promotion becomes an act of relation, openness and reciprocal listening rather than simple exposure. What truly generates community is not the content itself but the encounters it makes possible. Through posts, messages, and shared research, artists build horizontal networks that generate jobs, partnerships, and collective projects so in this way, social media become informal infrastructures of mutual aid, where visibility, solidarity, and connection help counteract isolation and make the artistic field more accessible. It is through those small exchanges, those circulating words, and those unexpected responses that community begins to take shape.

Fighting together: the Italian case of “Vogliamo tutt’altro”

If online platforms have become fertile spaces for artistic promotion and collaboration, they have also revealed themselves as powerful territories for collective mobilization and shared frustrations crystallize into common causes. Social media make it possible for dispersed individuals to recognize that they are not isolated in their difficulties and that their experiences resonate with those of many others. The digital environment accelerates this shift: emotions circulate rapidly, testimonies accumulate and connections spread in every sense. It is precisely within this dynamic that the phenomenon of Vogliamo tutt’altro^[2] takes shape. It means literally “We want something completely different” and emerged as a spontaneous movement created by young Italian artists, students, performers and cultural workers who, between 2023 and 2024, used social media to denounce the precarity of the Italian art system and to imagine new forms of community and mutual support.

The phenomenon began after the evaluations issued by the Italian Ministry of Culture and, more specifically, to the funding mechanisms of the Fondo Unico per lo Spettacolo (FUS) that, in Italy, is the main instrument through which the State supports theatre, dance, music and the performing arts. However, in recent years, many artists and cultural workers have expressed growing frustration regarding how funds are allocated, criticizing the system for privileging opera and traditional theatre over contemporary research, for its lack of transparency, for the rigidity and inaccessibility of its criteria and for the structural precariousness that continues to shape the entire sector. The name “Vogliamo tutt’altro” arose directly from this shared feeling: the desire for a different artistic world, more human, more supportive, less grounded in sacrifice and more in solidarity. Importantly, the movement did not begin as a formal association or structured group. It emerged as a fluid, self-organized, fully digital network and over time, the online community began to transform into an offline one: certain profiles became reference points where meetings, open discussions, cultural protests and collective readings were organized. The art workers’ community that come from this movement (bringing together artists from all regions of the country), has taken part in several intersectional protests and mobilizations occurring in Italy during these months. By doing so, it has articulated a clear stance against the political direction the Italian government is shaping. The movement affirms of course the importance of being part of a community that fights for a shared cause but recognizing that its members are part of society as well.

“Art is not neutral”. So, remaining coherent with the principles that guide us as social beings living within a system that requires filters and lenses to be read with clarity, the community asserts the need to protest, to speak out, and when necessary, to raise its voice.

Figure 18. Vogliamo Tutt’altro mobilization protest in Rome (RO), 22th September 2025

Figure 19, 20 and 21. Vogliamo Tutt’altro Instagram posts aimed to inform community and organize assemblies

Our personal struggle: pros and cons of using social media to make art

As emerging artists both belonging to “digital native” generation, we daily experience the opportunities and the difficulties inherent in using social media, which means constantly negotiating the tension between creative freedom and exposure. Social platforms amplify our presence, makes us visible but also bring to us pressures that can affect our artistic process. One of the most delicate aspects that artists face is the question of privacy: social media ask for a level of transparency that can easily blur the line between the person and the professional figure. Many artists navigate this by maintaining separate profiles, one more curated and public and the other reserved for personal life, hoping to preserve a space that remains theirs alone.

This separation, however, is never clean: the boundary is porous and maintaining it requires constant awareness. For some, this fluidity feels liberating, for others, it becomes exhausting, as if the platforms continuously demanded a form of self-definition that is never quite stable. For dancers and performers, these tensions deepen when the body itself becomes a content. Posting images or videos of movement raises the question of whether the body remains private or becomes part of a public archive. The body in performance is always symbolic, an abstracted presence, yet social media tends to flatten this distinction, presenting it as something immediately consumable. A gesture that in the studio carries layers of meaning risks being read as mere aesthetic display online. The body, suspended between exposure and abstraction, becomes both vulnerable and political. This tension also affects the way social artists engage with their audiences.

On one hand, the platforms enable a sense of community, offering spaces where people from different regions or backgrounds can converge around shared concerns. On the other hand, they require a constant negotiation of how much of oneself to reveal. Some artists choose to expose their uncertainties openly, turning vulnerability into a form of strength. Others prefer to protect their personal life carefully, using the platform primarily as a professional tool.

Both choices are valid and both reflect deeper research for balance in an environment that thrives on visibility constantly threatened to overstep intimate boundaries. In the end, working through social media means learning to inhabit a double space: one that amplifies our voices and another that demands continuous self-reflection. The platforms allow us to reach people we would never otherwise meet, to share pieces of work that might have remained unseen and to take part in communities larger than ourselves. But this possibility comes with the need to redefine how we show ourselves, how we protect what matters and how we decide which parts of our artistic and personal lives belong to the public sphere. For many of us, this negotiation becomes part of the artistic practice itself: a silent choreography that shapes the way we move within the digital world.

Creativity, connection, community

Connection, in every sense and context, becomes a form of nourishment. Many artists discover that their work resonates with people they have never met and this unexpected audience opens new perspectives on what their art can become. Dialogue unfolds gradually: someone comments, someone else shares a similar experience, and slowly a thread forms between individuals whose paths might never have crossed offline. Creativity finds momentum in this relational field, where ideas are not simply produced but exchanged, tested, and refined. It is a kind of collective thinking that does not erase individual authorship but enriches it adding layers of interpretation that emerge from shared experience.

From this network of relations communities take shape. They are rarely announced or formally organized, they grow quietly through affinities, repetitions, mutual recognition, common interests, values, or questions. In the arts, these communities often become a source of support and validation that counters the isolation many practitioners face in their daily work: they provide a sense of belonging, and belonging feeds creative risk. When artists feel seen and understood, they are more willing to experiment, to push boundaries and to make work that exposes vulnerability. Digital platforms in addition help us to maintain relationships with collaborators met during residencies, festivals, or travels and this continuity is essential, especially for young artists who rely on networks for opportunities and support: online presence thus allows us to shape a wider artistic ecosystem.

Exposure, pressure, competition

Yet the other side of this digital environment carries its own complexities: the same platforms that nurture creativity also expose artists to a level of visibility that can quickly feel overwhelming. Each post becomes a public statement, a trace that remains open to interpretation, judgment, or comparison. The desire to be understood may slip into the pressure to perform, to maintain a certain tone, a certain level of productivity or a coherent artistic image. In an environment built to reward constant activity, we could feel drawn into rhythms that don’t correspond to their natural process. When fragments of work circulate freely, they can be taken out of context, misunderstood, or reduced to their most superficial aspects.

The intimacy of the creative process becomes material for public consumption and with it comes the fear of being misread or dismissed. Many artists describe the sensation of being simultaneously hyper-visible and unseen: visible because their work is online, unseen because its complexity is not always grasped. Competition emerges quietly within this landscape. It becomes difficult not to notice who receives more attention, who advances faster, who appears more integrated into certain circuits.

These observations, although often involuntary, can influence self-perception and creative choices and urgencies. The digital field amplifies the feeling of scarcity: the sense that opportunities are limited and that visibility itself is a form of currency. In this climate, artists may feel pushed to align with dominant aesthetics or to frame their work in ways that fit platform and algorithm expectations, even when such choices conflict with their deeper intentions.

The challenge lies in maintaining a relationship with social media that honours the integrity of the work while acknowledging the realities of exposure: to protect the honesty while engaging with the digital in a way that remains aligned with our ethics.  It requires awareness, patience and the courage to move at one’s own pace, qualities that become part of the artistic labour itself. In this balancing act, the artist learns not only how to be seen but how to remain true while being seen.

Conclusions

As gruppocorp3, we continue to negotiate what it means to make art in a time when digital presence is both necessary and destabilizing. Throughout this toolkit we have explored how online platforms can generate forms of creativity, dialogue and community, but we have also confronted the ways in which they expose us, divide our attention and reshape our sense of self. Living and working in the digital era means compromising every day: we try to welcome the opportunities offered by visibility and connection, while protecting the concrete relationships that sustain us and the physical spaces where our bodies think, move and create.

This tension is not something external to our practice: it is part of the work itself, a soil we inhabit as dancers, performers and young women navigating a hyper-connected world. Our performances seek to create community for brief, intense moments and yet the communities we try to build online often demand an energy that extends far beyond the stage. Our struggle is therefore not only professional but deeply personal: to continue making art without losing the intimacy and depth that shape who we are while protecting our privacy from being consumer good.

This toolkit has also highlighted how digital platforms, when inhabited with awareness can become places of shared resistance. We have witnessed how individual precarity becomes visible, how anger becomes analysis and how analysis becomes mobilization. This capacity to transform isolated voices into collective action is one of the most powerful potentials of contemporary communities’ forms and this process is one of the most interesting for our research. What truly shifts the ground are the moments in which the online and the offline meet: when posts become assemblies, when comments become presence, when digital proximity becomes bodies gathering in public space.

Today everything is instantly accessible: videos, archives, creative processes, political debates, invitations to participate and we inhabit a world in which we can collect enormous amounts of material from multiple platforms, and this abundance is undeniably a source of richness. It expands our imagination, informs our work and connects us with people we might never meet otherwise. But none of this is comparable to the power of lived experience. No image replaces the trembling of breath in a performance, no livestream replaces the vibration of bodies sharing a room, no digital thread replaces the subtle, fragile act of meeting someone’s gaze. The digital widens our reach, but the physical nourishes our depth.

As artists of our generation, we do not reject the digital world; we try to reshape our place within it or reshape it in our space. We aim to conserve what matters (human proximity, embodied exchange, ethical attention) while exploring what the digital can offer when approached with critical care. Our hope is to carve a space where the concrete and the virtual coexist, where community remains a lived practice rather than a slogan and where the possibility of encounter continues to guide the heart of our artistic gesture.

Avaa haitari Sulje haitari

Aime M., 2010, Comunità, Bologna, Il Mulino.

Bourriaud N., 1997, Esthétique relationelle, Dijon, Les Presses du réel.

Han BC., 2020, The Disappearance of Rituals, Cambridge, Polity Press

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Zagatti F., 2012, Persone che danzano. Spazi tempi modi per una danza di comunità, Bologna, MPE Mousikè Progetti Educativi.

Zagatti F., 2018, Le parole per dirsi. Verso un lessico condiviso della danza di comunità, in Danza E Ricerca. Laboratorio Di Studi, Scritture, Visioni, 10(10), pp. 349–369.

Phelan P., 1993, Unmarked: The Politics of Performance, London, Routledge.

Auslander P., 1999/2008, Liveness: Performance in a Mediatized Culture, London, Routledge.

Jenkins H., 2006, Convergence Culture: Where Old and New Media Collide, New York, New York University Press.

Fischer-Lichte E., 2008, The Transformative Power of Performance: A New Aesthetics, London, Routledge.
Jones A., 1997-1998, Body Art/Performing the Subject, Minnesota, University of Minnesota Press.

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Baym N., 2010/2015, Personal Connections in the Digital Age, Cambridge, Polity Press.

Avaa haitari Sulje haitari

Professional Media Presence residency: https://pmpproject.turkuamk.fi/b

“Vogliamo Tutt’altro” instagram profile: https://www.instagram.com/assemblea_lavorat_spettacolo?igsh=YmdsYjY3eWwwN3J4

PMP official website, gruppocorp3 residency: https://pmpproject.turkuamk.fi/blogs/introducing-split-residency-artists-alexandra-and-gruppocorp3/ (last seen 4.12.25)

“Vogliamo tutt’altro” Instagram profile: https://www.instagram.com/assemblea_lavorat_spettacolo?igsh=YmdsYjY3eWwwN3J4 (last seen 6.12.2025)

Professional Media Presence – Toolkit point of views perception of a professional artist and the art ecosystem

Raffaella Menchetti
Residency artist on Venice, spring 2024

The perception of a professional artist varies significantly across countries, shaped by cultural, economic, and institutional factors. According to Pierre Bourdieu (1993), the artistic field operates as a structured space where diCerent forms of capital—economic, social, and symbolic—determine an artist’s legitimacy and success. In Italy, this dynamic is particularly evident, as artists navigate a complex and fragmented ecosystem in which public funding, private patronage, and self-sustained initiatives coexist.

Italy has a long-standing tradition of state-funded arts through institutions such as the Ministry of Culture (Ministero della Cultura) and regional cultural funds. However, access to these resources is often bureaucratic and competitive, favoring established institutions over emerging independent artists (Santagata, 2014). As a result, many contemporary artists struggle with institutional recognition and financial stability, relying on multiple income sources such as:

• Public and private grants (e.g., Italian Council, European funding programs like Creative Europe).
• Commissions and collaborations with galleries, museums, and cultural organizations.
• Teaching and educational projects, which provide a steady income stream.
• Self-promotion and direct audience engagement through digital platforms.

Richard Florida’s (2002) concept of the “creative class” highlights the precarious nature of artistic work in post-industrial economies, where flexibility, mobility, and self-entrepreneurship becomes a crucial survival strategy. In Italy, these dynamics are exacerbated by an inconsistent policy framework for cultural labor, leading many artists to seek opportunities abroad or through alternative funding models (Menger, 2006).

Digitalization and the changing role of the audience

The rise of digital platforms has transformed how artists connect with their audiences, oCering unprecedented visibility but also new challenges in terms of monetization and sustainability. According to Arora & Vermeylen (2013), digital media allow artists to bypass traditional gatekeepers, yet they also require continuous self-branding and algorithmic visibility strategies.

From my personal experience as an artist working at the intersection of digital media and performance, my professional identity is shaped by a dual necessity:

• Engaging with traditional institutions, which provide prestige and legitimacy.
• Leveraging online media, which oCer wider accessibility and direct audience interaction.

Social media platforms such as Instagram, TikTok, and YouTube have become key tools for contemporary artists, facilitating networking, funding (through crowdfunding or NFTs), and audience building. However, as Bishop (2012) argues, the increasing reliance on digital spaces also leads to aesthetic homogenization and platform dependency, where visibility is dictated by algorithmic logics rather than artistic merit.

In the Italian context, a generational and institutional divide persists between:

• Traditional institutions (museums, academies, public cultural bodies) that prioritize established artistic expressions such as painting, sculpture, and classical performance arts.
• Younger, experimental artists who work with new media, hybrid formats, and interdisciplinary practices but often struggle to gain institutional recognition. For instance, while biennales and festivals like the Venice Biennale or Romaeuropa Festival embrace contemporary digital and performance art, most regional institutions remain conservative, favoring traditional art forms. This gap limits the potential of emerging artists who wish to engage with interactive storytelling, immersive media, or digital performance as legitimate artistic expressions.

As Claire Bishop (2012) suggests, the art world is at a critical juncture where digital technologies are reshaping artistic production and audience engagement. However, institutions must adapt to this shift to prevent the exclusion of new artistic voices. In Italy, the challenge remains: how can artists bridge the gap between traditional and digital art ecosystems while securing financial sustainability?

The role of media in the artistic landscape

The media in Italy plays an ambiguous and often contradictory role in the cultural sector. While major public and independent media platforms cover high-profile artistic events, emerging and experimental artists struggle for visibility unless they align with dominant institutional narratives. This phenomenon reflects a broader tension between traditional and digital media ecosystems, where access to public discourse is still largely dictated by economic, political, and cultural gatekeeping mechanisms (Hesmondhalgh, 2019).

Traditional media and cultural gatekeeping

In Italy, public broadcasting channels (e.g., RAI, Radio3, and specialized cultural publications like Il Sole 24 Ore Cultura or Artribune) tend to emphasize heritage arts, classical music, and historically significant exhibitions. This focus stems from a cultural policy that privileges historical conservation over contemporary artistic production (Bonini, 2020). As a result, experimental and digital artists often find limited space in mainstream cultural discourse, reinforcing the perception that contemporary art exists on the margins of national identity.

Pierre Bourdieu (1998) describes cultural legitimacy as being tied to institutional recognition, where visibility in traditional media is both a marker of artistic value and a prerequisite for professional sustainability. In Italy, this mechanism disproportionately benefits established artists, leaving younger or interdisciplinary practitioners to navigate alternative networks of self-promotion (Santagata, 2014). The relationship between media and the arts in Italy is also shaped by political and economic constraints. Public broadcasting institutions, while nominally independent, often reflect governmental cultural policies that prioritize heritage preservation, national identity, and economic tourism over avant-garde or politically engaged artistic practices (Bennett, 2013). This results in:

• Selective visibility, where contemporary art is featured primarily when it aligns with broader institutional objectives (e.g., large-scale biennials or exhibitions sponsored by cultural ministries).
• Market-driven media strategies, where private television and press outlets prioritize commercially viable art forms over experimental or activist-driven work.
• Censorship and self-censorship, especially in cases where artistic expression challenges dominant political or religious narratives (Baker & Blaagaard, 2016). The decline of independent art journalism further exacerbates this issue. As traditional media struggles with economic sustainability, many art critics and cultural journalists face increasing pressure to conform to market-friendly narratives, limiting critical discourse on contemporary artistic practices (Jones, 2018).

In contrast to traditional media, digital platforms oCer a more decentralized space where artists can self-promote, engage audiences directly, and bypass institutional gatekeepers (Arora & Vermeylen, 2013). Platforms such as Instagram, TikTok, and YouTube have become primary sites for artistic visibility, fostering new modes of interaction between artists and the public.

However, the democratization of media access comes with new challenges:

• Algorithm-driven exposure: Social media platforms prioritize engagement metrics over artistic merit, leading to the predominance of visually striking, easily consumable content rather than conceptually complex or experimental work (Bishop, 2012).
• Misinformation and context collapse: The rapid circulation of images and narratives often leads to misinterpretations of artistic intent, where works are stripped of their original context and repurposed for viral trends.
• Platform dependency: Artists must constantly adapt to shifting algorithms and corporate policies, which can suddenly de-prioritize certain types of content or restrict visibility (Gillespie, 2018).

The case of digital activism in the arts illustrates these tensions. While social media allows for grassroots mobilization and advocacy, it also exposes artists to online harassment, censorship, and the commodification of activist aesthetics (Dean, 2010).

Media literacy and artistic strategies

For artists navigating this complex landscape, media literacy is essential. Understanding how narratives are constructed and how diCerent media frame artistic work enables more strategic engagement with both traditional and digital platforms.

During my participation in the PMP project, I explored how digital tools can serve as both a medium and a subject of artistic inquiry. In particular, my research focused on:

• The representation of identity and marginalized bodies in digital spaces.
• The performative nature of social media, where artistic identity is often constructed through curated online personas.
• The intersection of activism and aesthetics, examining how digital storytelling can challenge dominant cultural narratives.

By integrating critical media theory into artistic practice, artists can develop more resilient and adaptable strategies for visibility, ensuring that their work is not only seen but also contextualized within meaningful artistic and socio-political discourses (Steyerl, 2017)

Best practices regarding media use

In the contemporary art landscape, media engagement is not merely a promotional tool but an integral aspect of artistic practice. The digitalization of the cultural sector has shifted the ways in which artists construct their professional identity, connect with audiences, and navigate institutional and independent spaces. Through both personal experience and the observation of fellow artists, I have identified three key best practices for media engagement: strategic self-representation, cross-platform engagement, and collaborative storytelling.

Strategic self-representation: Crafting a consistent artistic identity

In a media-saturated environment, strategic self-representation is fundamental. Artists must cultivate a cohesive and recognizable narrative about their work, ensuring that their artistic vision is clearly articulated across multiple platforms (Bourdieu, 1993). This involves:

• Developing a strong personal website, which serves as a centralized hub for portfolios, statements, and project documentation (GioCredi, 2016).
• Maintaining a consistent visual and thematic identity across social media channels, reinforcing artistic authenticity and credibility (Marwick, 2013).
• Engaging with press and independent publications, strategically distributing press releases and articles to reach niche and mainstream audiences.

A relevant example is the practice of ”auto-archiving”, where artists systematically document and curate their digital presence. Hito Steyerl (2017) highlights how contemporary artists use self-archiving as both a resistance strategy against digital obsolescence and a way to control their public representation.

Furthermore, artists must navigate the fine line between visibility and over-exposure. Maintaining a balance between artistic integrity and self-promotion is crucial to avoiding the pitfalls of digital performativity, where artists are pressured to conform to online aesthetics dictated by algorithmic visibility (Gillespie, 2018). Cross-Platform Engagement: Diversifying Media Strategies

Relying on a single media channel is no longer viable in an era where digital ecosystems are fragmented.

The most eCective artists develop cross-platform engagement strategies, ensuring that their presence extends across institutional, independent, and digital networks. This involves:

• Participating in institutional exhibitions and festivals, which provide credibility and financial support.
• Creating digital content that extends beyond static representation, such as blogs, video essays, and interactive media projects (Bishop, 2012).
• Leveraging alternative distribution channels, including artist-run platforms, online publications, and decentralized blockchain-based art markets (Rogers, 2020). For example, multidisciplinary artists often employ transmedia storytelling, where their narratives unfold across multiple formats (Jenkins, 2006). The performance piece Real Fake, which I co-developed, exemplifies this approach by existing both as a live event and a participatory video-performance, allowing audiences to engage through diCerent mediums. Moreover, artists must remain adaptable to shifting digital infrastructures. Platform dependency is a risk, as algorithm changes can drastically reduce visibility (Cotter, 2021). Developing mailing lists, independent archives, and decentralized content-sharing strategies ensures sustainability beyond corporate media ecosystems.

Collaborative storytelling: expanding artistic Impact

Collaboration has become a crucial practice for expanding visibility, diversifying narratives, and fostering artistic resistance. The residency experience at Forte Marghera demonstrated how collective digital explorations of identity generate cultural discourse beyond individual artistic contributions. Collaborative storytelling practices include:

• Co-creating media content through interdisciplinary artistic collaborations, integrating visual, performative, and textual elements.
• Engaging with community-driven storytelling, amplifying marginalized voices and creating counter-narratives to dominant media representations (Chandler & Munday, 2020).
• Utilizing participatory media formats, where audiences actively shape the artistic process (Gauntlett, 2011).

One example is networked performance (Dixon, 2007), where artists use live streaming, interactive media, and participatory platforms to create decentralized, real-time performances. This strategy was evident in our exploration of Venice, where digital tools enabled real-time audience interaction and documentation, transforming the city into a dynamic storytelling space.

Collaborative storytelling also aligns with intersectional media strategies, where artists foreground themes of identity, resistance, and social critique (Crenshaw, 1989). By engaging with diverse perspectives, artists contribute to broader cultural conversations that challenge institutional exclusions and algorithmic biases in the digital sphere.

Special features of the residency professional media presence

On the occasion of the European Professional Media Presence (PMP) project workshop in April 2024 and the artistic residency in May 2024 at Live Arts Culture in Mestre, Venice, I began conducting video interviews with some of the 32 European artists who participated in the workshop. These interviews became the foundation for my exploration of the embodiment of gestures. The body and movements of the interviewees, along with pre-selected videos addressing the theme of catcalling, allowed me to develop a vocabulary of gestures. The opportunity to engage with artists from diverse sociocultural backgrounds provided a broader conversation on catcalling, enabling a comparative reflection on its perception and impact across diCerent European contexts.

Selected by Perypezye Urbane and Professional Media Presence for the Creative Europe residency award, I was able to conduct my first in-depth, hands-on research on Cat Care Calling at Live Arts Culture. During the residency, I took a crucial first step toward transforming this concept into a dance performance. In collaboration with Giselda Ranieri, I initiated body practices that would later form the basis of the final performance.

Throughout this process, a central question guided my approach:

”How can an act of violence be transformed into an act of healing?”

To explore this, I engaged in experimental practices aimed at shifting the perception of violence, avoiding victimization, and instead fostering a space of care as a means of empowerment. I approached care as an act of reclaiming agency, where self-determination becomes a counterforce to imposed vulnerability.

The research led to the definition of four fundamental body chapters/practices:

VOCABULARY AND EMBODIMENT – Developing a language of gestures drawn from lived experiences.

FUTURE MYTHOLOGY – Reimagining bodies through an eco-feminist lens, merging human, animal, and botanical elements.

REAPPROPRIATION – Transforming violent gestures into acts of care and empowerment.

Methodology: Transforming Violence into Healing

The research was structured through interviews, embodiment studies, and performative vocabulary development:

Interviews: The video interviews I conducted with artists during the Artist Media Presence workshop aimed to gather direct perspectives on catcalling. The questions posed included:

• ”Do you know what catcalling is?”
• ”Have you ever experienced catcalling?”
• ”How can a violent act of catcalling be turned into a gesture of care?”
• ”Can you demonstrate a gesture that represents your perception of catcalling?”

The responses provided unexpected insights and contributed to the performative research. Special thanks to Elvira Martos, Natalia Bozikova, Marcelo Doño, Kruno Jost, Sirkka Miradonna, and Martina Freyja for their participation.

Embodiment: From the interviews, key words and actions emerged, such as being chased, being signaled, whistling, piercing gaze, shouting, unsolicited comments, public space interactions. I mapped the gestures described, which included whispering, winking, pinching, snapping fingers, clapping, suggestive body movements, among others. Together with Giselda Ranieri, we engaged in physical exercises to embody and deconstruct these movements, ultimately transforming them into a new performative language.

Gesture Vocabulary: Inspired by Bruno Munari’s Dictionary of Italian’s Gestures, I developed a Cat Care Calling vocabulary, cataloging the movements of both victims and perpetrators of catcalling. Some gestures were directly sourced from interviewees, while others emerged from improvisational explorations.

Future Mythology: A critical moment in the performance was the transformation of the stereotypical image of a female body subjected to objectification into a hybrid form. Through shadow work and physical metamorphosis, the body moved toward a new identity—an entity that merges with natural elements, embodying the ecofeminist perspective where the fusion of human, animal, and plant life creates a postanthropocentric vision.

Reappropriation: The final phase of the research focused on reclaiming power through movement. This meant repurposing violent gestures into movements of care, exploring how aggression could be inverted to foster strength and agency. By performing these transformations in front of an audience, the work invited viewers to witness and participate in the reclamation process.

Final Report: From Meeting the PMP Project to the Performance Cat Care Calling The experience with the Professional Media Presence (PMP) project was transformative, influencing both my artistic practice and my understanding of media’s role in shaping professional identity.

Online Seminar: The Starting Point – My first engagement with PMP was through an online seminar, where I encountered discussions on the intersection of digital media and art. These exchanges resonated with my ongoing research and strengthened my desire to collaborate within this network.

Workshop at Forte Marghera: Artistic Growth and Dialogue – The in-person workshop at Forte Marghera provided a unique space for artistic exchange with 32 international artists. Exploring the city of Venice and engaging in collective research expanded the scope of my project, reinforcing the connection between intersectionality, performance, and digital presence.

From Research to Performance: Cat Care Calling – The Cat Care Calling project evolved from interviews to a structured performance developed during the residency in Mestre. The collaboration with Giselda Ranieri led to a dance-based exploration of how an act of violence can be subverted and redefined as a healing process.

This methodology was structured around four key components:

Vocabulary – Identifying and cataloging gestures linked to catcalling.

Embodiment – Translating these gestures into performative language.

Future Mythology – Reimagining body transformation beyond imposed social roles.

Reappropriation/Empowerment – Using movement as a tool for reclaiming agency. The complete research process and reflections on the residency are documented in the article:

🔗 https://pmpproject.turkuamk.fi/blogs/working-in-artist-residency-in-venice-what-is- catcare- calling/?fbclid=PAZXh0bgNhZW0CMTEAAaaf8aQlzTFJXexkauZ8LJ2n6l3YG_DFgAjyQoo3exCO osRyq8VxATgTOho_aem_GgkANgtxx68oEvp_hExcog

Conclusion

The PMP experience has been instrumental in shaping my approach to performance and media engagement. By integrating interview-based research, embodiment practices, and digital tools, I have developed a methodology that not only deconstructs violent social gestures but also reclaims them as a form of empowerment. Moving forward, my goal is to expand Cat Care Calling into a multi-layered performance that continues to challenge perceptions of gendered violence, oCering new avenues for reflection, dialogue, and transformation.

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Media and identity through a hydrofeminist lens

Alexanda Stroganova
Residency artist on Split, autumn 2025

Picture 1. (Alexandra Stroganova)

Prologue

We are all in this together, but we are not one and the same.

Rosi Braidotti

We are all bodies of water.

Astrida Neimanis

Astida Neimanis, a feminist thinker and scholar in her talk for Riga Biennale in 2021 pointed out that “we are all at sea”. To be at sea means to be bewildered, unsure of what to do. This idiom more than precisely defines how many people, and especially artists, feel now in the world gone rogue. Climate change. Melting glaciers. Massive species extinction. Pollution. Deforestation. Insecticide. Wars. Pandemics. The rise of extreme right wing politics. Fascism. Migration crisis. White supremacy. Misogyny. Injustice. You name it. The world is definitely sailing through troubled waters right now. How not to give up but rather “stay with the trouble” (Haraway, 2016) of this world and make it a better place not just for people but all living and non-living entities? How can reconfiguring the way of thinking and being in this world lead our boat to a more just and fair horizon? What can artists do to contribute to the world’s amelioration in its volatility?

In this turbulent era of polycrisis many feminist thinkers turn to posthumanism to address the limitations of anthropocentric thinking. Donna Haraway, Astrida Neimanis, Rosi Braidotti, Stacy Alaimo, Karen Barad, and many more have pointed out that feminism is not just about women’s rights — it is about all human and importantly more-than-human rights. These theorists urge us to rethink the central position of humans in the world and their separatedness from nature (see for example Barad, 2007; Haraway, 2016; Neimanis, 2017; Braidotti, 2013; Alaimo, 2010). ). They advocate for a more relational way of thinking and being and propose to view the world as interconnected or, intra-connected, to borrow a Baradian term (Barad 2007), where everything is “always already entangled in relationships with a multitude of other beings (animal, vegetal, digital, and geological) and the ways they affect one another” (Åsberg, 2021).

This essay introduces several thought-provoking concepts for artists (and others) seeking to navigate the contemporary questions of ethics, identity and media. Rather than providing a checklist with ready-made answers, it presents new perspectives and exercises in thinking that may help reflect your own position within these issues. The text draws particularly on one strand of posthuman feminist philosophy, known as hydrofeminism (Neimanis, 2012). Hydrofeminism suggests that all bodies are bodies of water and invites us to think-with water — both metaphorically and literally — in order to understand the relationality of all bodies of water, human and more-than-human alike.

Various forms of media can be effective or almost mandatory tools in contemporary communication, knowledge creation and dissemination. Artists’ relationship with the media is shaped by their identities, which in turn are shaped by the media.  Thus, exploring identity from different perspectives helps us clarify what we are trying or want to communicate, why certain topics repeatedly draw us back or away, and on the other hand, how being present in media affects us. Finally, understanding the ethics of utilizing media and its role in art practice is crucial if we want to use its tools sustainably and in a way that strengthens democratic, safe, and inclusive spaces free of sexism and racism, while maintaining freedom of expression.

This essay examines the complex web of relationship between identity and media through a hydrofeminist lens, exploring how an ethics of care could inform the use of media and the creation of art by art professionals. The rest of the essay is structured as follows. First, it defines hydrofeminism as a way of thinking-with water, emphasising interconnectedness and permeability of all watery bodies. Second, it considers how identity and media are intertwined in our contemporary, technology-driven world. Third, it explores media as a fluid materiality. Fourth, it discusses how care, attentiveness, and reciprocity can guide how artists use media or create works. At the end of each chapter, there are questions and an exercise for the reader to reflect on the chapter’s content. By rethinking these connections introduced above, the essay aims to help artists contemplate the ethical implications of their media practices, benefiting both the artists themselves and the communities they engage with, as well as our shared futures.

Picture 2. (Alexandra Stroganova)

Chapter 1. Hydrofeminism

Refiguring ourselves as bodies of water is thus not only an experiment in human embodiment, but also a feminist commitment to following the flows of marginalization and injustice, as well as those of connection, empowerment, and joy that our watery corporealities collaboratively engender.

Astrida Neimanis (2017, p. 64)

In this chapter, I unfold the key ideas of hydrofeminism, tracing how it approaches water as both metaphor and material force, shaping worlds through relational flows. Hydrofeminism is a strand of feminist theory developed by Astrida Neimanis (2012) that bridges feminist and ecological ideas. In this philosophy, water is central and is understood both metaphorically and literally as a substance that connects all living and non-living entities on our planet.

Neimanis (2012; 2017) asserts that humans and all beings are, both literally and figuratively, bodies of water. Water does not merely pass through us as something we drink, absorb, and excrete; it also constitutes us — our bodies are composed of more than half water. Thus, being a body of water means being both a carrier of water and water itself. When we acknowledge that our planet is an ocean planet far more than “earth”, and that all life is sustained by water, the boundary between humans and the more-than-human begins to blur. From this recognition emerges a challenge to anthropocentric ideas that separate us from everything else. Hydrofeminism suggests that “we are all bodies of water” and that all bodies of water are linked through watery reciprocity with other bodies and ecosystems, and thus do not exist in isolation but always in relation. Neimanis (2017) describes this interconnectedness as a more-than-human hydrocommons: “Bodies of water ask us to imagine these corporeal waters as part of a hydrocommons that we make, and that makes us in turn” (p. 169).

By foregrounding water’s agency and more-than-human relations, hydrofeminism unsettles human exceptionalism and repositions humans as participants within planetary processes rather than masters of them.

All bodies of water are connected, but they are not the same (Neimanis, 2017). To say that we are all connected through water is not about dissolving all differences into one big happy mush. Hydrofeminism insists that we remain attentive to colonial histories, structural inequality, environmental injustice, racialized and gendered vulnerabilities and ecological harm. It calls for a rethinking of ethics, justice, and care in the context of climate change, rising sea levels, water pollution and other crises. Indeed, this shift in perspective can open our imagination, as Astrida Neimanis asks: “What kind of ethics would we cultivate if we paid attention to our watery origins? How could we reimagine kinship and connection if we recalled this inescapable network of animals, plants, rivers, clouds, and oceans, but also sewage plants, tailings ponds and dirty dishwater, that circulate through us? It can suggest different kinds of accountabilities.” (Neimanis & Blackmore, 2024)

Interlude 1. Sensing the hydrocommons

Here, I offer a small exercise to sense and connect with the hydrocommons.

If you have access to some place with water (little pond, river, lake, sea, small creek, bog, etc.), you can take a walk there and find a peaceful place where you can sit or stand for a couple of minutes. If not, no worries, this exercise can be done anywhere.

Find a suitable place. Get into a comfortable position. You may sit down if you can. Read the instructions first and then close your eyes.

Pay attention to your breath. Take a deep breath. Exhale. Feel the air coming in and out.

Inhale. Exhale.

Inhale. Exhale.

Pay attention to the sound around you. Put your hands on your chest. Feel the water inside your body. Is it still or flowing? Is it cold or warm? Clear or opaque? Imagine that the same water is flowing in the other person. In the other animal. In the fish in the sea, in the bird in the sky, in the tree in the park.

Inhale. Exhale.

Think of a moment when water cared for you — or when you cared for water. How did it feel?

Inhale. Exhale.

Remember the time when you were completely surrounded by water, in the womb of your mother. Recall the warmth of those waters.. how did it feel floating in the ocean of love and care?

Inhale. Exhale.

Now think for a second about your position in this world in relation to water. Do you have the privilege of having access to it most of the time? Acknowledge this privilege. Try not to feel guilt but rather thank the waters for being there for you and think what could you do to bring more love, care and justice into this world?

Inhale. Exhale.

Inhale. Exhale.

Inhale. Exhale.

Gently bring awareness back by wiggling fingers/toes, feeling all parts of your body and your head, and slowly opening your eyes.

How did it feel?

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Picture 3. (Alexandra Stroganova)

Chapter 2. Identity and media through hydrofeminist lens

We are made from what is out there. What is out there makes us.

Astrida Neimanis

This chapter examines how the notions of identity and media can be reconfigured through hydrofeminism.

The Merriam–Webster Dictionary defines identity as “the distinguishing character or personality of an individual,” encompassing both physiological and psychological traits that are often assumed to develop during infancy and stabilize by adulthood. This definition centers the human individual, yet identity is not merely a human trait; it is a broad and multifaceted concept and its meaning depends on the theoretical framework in which it is situated.

Identity is inextricably tied to the body, and hence, redefining our bodies as bodies of water reshapes how we understand identity itself. A hydrofeminist approach emphasises the fluidity of the body and therefore of identity, highlighting how our sense of self emerges through ongoing exchanges with aqueous worlds and ecological networks.

Water, as we know, is a shape-shifter – moving from solid to liquid and gas, and taking up residence in and as bodies of all kinds. Water is undoubtedly related to the fluid, but as the materialization of an abstract property, it allows us to think the mattering of this matter in more specific and situated ways – in terms of the bodies it animates, the operations it makes possible, and the limits it encounters.

(Neimanis, 2017, p. 80)

This perspective destabilises the Western notion of the self as discrete, autonomous, and bounded. Instead, it understands bodies and, subsequently, identities as fluid, relational, and embedded within planetary water cycles. From a hydrofeminist viewpoint, identity is not fixed or self-contained; it is always in a continual process of becoming-with environments, technologies, and both living and non-living entities. Becoming-with is a term Donna Haraway (2016) uses to describe how beings are continually shaped through their relations with others and with their surroundings. It emphasises that we do not become ourselves alone, but through ongoing, entangled encounters with the world. This can be understood as our identity being in a process of constant shape-shifting, which is affected by the relations with other human and more-than-human actors and environments.

Media, as defined in dictionary.com, is “the means of communication, as radio and television, newspapers, magazines, and the internet, that reach or influence people widely”. Nowadays, media play a significant role not only in communication and knowledge dissemination, but also in shaping identities (Acim, 2025). What we see, read and listen to in the media shapes how we understand the world. In the same way, what we share with the world through media affects it and shapes how it perceives us.

Drawing on hydrofeminism, media can be understood as a form of fluid materiality, moving and transforming much like water. Neimanis (2012) describes water as a “material media” that leaks, circulates, and carries memories, showing how bodies and environments are always exchanging meaning. This offers a way to think about how media absorbs, redirects, and reshapes identity narratives through networks that are never neutral. For Neimanis (2012), all knowledges are mediated. Building on this, the idea can be translated into understanding identity as always mediated by technologies and media tools – a fluid process of constant re-configuration. Just as water carries ecological and political histories, media infrastructures carry their own biases and consequences. Seeing media through this lens highlights material ethics, reminding us that every circulation, whether of water or information, has effects that ripple across bodies, technologies, and identities.

Interlude 2. Understanding digital identity

This exercise can be done anywhere, at any time. You may find a piece of paper and a pen helpful.

Think about the questions below and write your thoughts down. You may also draw or make a map. There are no right or wrong answers. The aim of this exercise is to become aware of the complexities, possibilities and limitations of media in relation to identity.

• Do you think you have a fixed identity or is it in constant flux?
• What kind of relations affect your personal identity?
• Is your professional identity separate from personal? How does it manifest in the media?
• Is your digital identity the same as your personal/professional identity? How has it been changing throughout the time you have used media? What might have affected that change?
• Does your identity differ in various media platforms?

You can choose one artist you know and check how they use media platforms. Are they present in several media platforms? How does their professional and personal identity manifest through the media?

_________________________________________________________________________

Picture 4. (Alexandra Stroganova)

Chapter 3. Media as fluid materiality and the hidden waters of media

Media use has become an integral part of many artists’ lives worldwide. While social media facilitates the exchange and dissemination of information, enabling connections and communication that were unimaginable just a few decades ago, questions of its healthy use and the sustainability of media infrastructures raise serious concerns. Algorithms create echo chambers where pathways stagnate, like wastewater with no outlet. We often perceive and describe media as streams of images, voices, and identities in digital space.

Digital space seems endless and ephemeral. However, these digital clouds, streams and pools rely heavily on physical infrastructure: starting from hardware such as smartphones and computers and ending up with what makes this global network and digital space possible – undersea cable systems, servers and massive data centres. The latter primarily rely on water as a cooling agent. In recent years, the rapid growth of digitalisation has driven increased demand for data centers and, consequently, increased water consumption in their cooling systems. A single data center can consume hundreds million liters of potable water per year,  which can be equivalent to the amount of water consumed by a small city (Mytton, 2021). This in itself raises many questions, especially considering that many places around the world suffer from severe aridity and competition for water.

The ”hidden waters” of digital media reveal that seemingly immaterial flows of images, identities, and communication depend on an essentially material hydrological infrastructure. Water becomes a medium of mediation — it literally carries away the heat of our media interactions. From this perspective, the ”cloud” is a hydrological system shaped by the interplay between human desires, digital technologies, and the elements. It also raises an ethical question at the heart of hydrofeminism: whose waters are extracted, redirected, or even sacrificed to sustain our media interactions, archives and digital selves? This approach insists that media ecology is never neutral, but embedded in a planetary water politics that unevenly distributes risks, burdens, and responsibilities.

Interlude 3. Understanding your media

This exercise aims to reflect on the media platforms we use and the webs of relation they are part of.

Pick one digital media platform you use frequently.

Research who owns it, where its data servers are located, and how they are cooled.

What bodies of water or energy systems support them?

How much water is being used daily or yearly to sustain this platform?

What bodies of water (literal or metaphorical) sustain your digital identity?

_________________________________________________________________________

Picture 5. (Alexandra Stroganova)

Chapter 4. Hydrofeminist ethics in art and media

Visual imagery is never innocent; it is always constructed through various practices, technologies and knowledges.

Gillian Rose

This chapter explores how care, attentiveness, and reciprocity might guide artists toward more responsible media and art practices, and summarises how hydrofeminism can inform ethical, interconnected, and sustainable approaches to art-making and media use.

People often think of art as a finished product rather than a process. Yet behind every artwork—whether a traditional static object, a moving image, sound art, an installation, or anything else—there is always a process. Moreover, artists never create in isolation. Making art requires connection with materials, ideas, other humans, and more-than-human entities. Art is an inherently entangled process. In fact, art can never be truly finished; it is always becoming—becoming-with the environments in which it is situated and with those who experience it.

Presenting art through media adds yet another layer—the screen. As a result, art shared in media becomes part of visual culture mediated through technology. And since technology is never neutral, this makes critical awareness among artists a necessity. What do artists choose to share online? Is it only stories of success? Do they show their processes, or only the ‘finished’ work? What kinds of narratives does art circulated through media reinforce? And how much digital space does it occupy?

It is important to understand the relational aspect of art-making in order to become more aware of its ethical implications. Making art requires artists to be both responsible and response-able (Haraway, 2016). Response-ability—a concept introduced by Donna Haraway (2016)—reimagines responsibility not as mere accountability but as a capacity to respond with care and thoughtfulness. It invites us to become “response-able” by engaging attentively with the world’s complexities, particularly in the face of ecological challenges. At its core, response-ability involves making considered choices, nurturing collective understanding, and building kinship with other beings as we confront and “stay with the trouble” of the world.

As we accept this reponse-ability, we need to engage with several questions. How can we cultivate practices of collective care in a technologically driven age of uncertainty? How do we make and present art in more thoughtful ways? What kinds of art practices can make a difference in this world? Hydrofeminist ethics, which emphasise care, listening, reciprocity, and attentiveness to various kinds of flows, offer a framework for approaching these questions.

An ethics of care encourages us to approach media not simply as tools for expression but as relational environments that involve responsibilities, dependencies, and consequences. Instead of seeing media as neutral or frictionless, a care-focused practice foregrounds the ecological, social, and emotional conditions that shape media creation and circulation. This perspective has the potential to help artists navigate media in several ways.

An ethics of care supports practices that prioritise consent, context, and respectful engagement. It encourages artists to consider how images represent others, how stories circulate, and how audiences may be affected by the work. Care also extends beyond human relations. It includes attentiveness to water, materials, devices, and the environments involved in production. An ethics of care offers a counter-practice to acceleration, constant posting, and platform-driven pressures. It legitimises slowness, pauses, and intentionality.

To make art more ethically, artists must be aware of what kind of messages their art brings forward. Who are they working with? How are they working with those human or more-than- human? Where do the materials come from and what do they contain? What resources, such as electricity and water, are being used and in what quantities? What traces the art leaves behind? In order to make art more ethically and sustainably, artists must be aware of these questions and be respectful to those we think- and work-with. Choosing more sustainable art materials and ways of making will contribute to a better future for all.

Interlude 4

What constitutes hydrofeminist ethical art and media practice?

Consent and visibility — respecting collaborators and subjects.

Digital ethics — interrogating algorithms, understanding data colonialism, and platform biases.

Ecological ethics — accounting for energy, water, and material costs of art and media production.

What is your relationship with the water?

How are we all as bodies of water connected?

What stories watery archives carry within?

What can we learn from the water?

What is human impact on the environment?

What traces does your art praxis leave behind in the world and in the digital ecosystem?

Does your work amplify or silence voices?

Epilogue

This essay has introduced a hydrofeminist framework for examining art, ethics, identity, and media. Rather than focusing on what separates us from each other and from the world, it offers a perspective that highlights how we are connected through our bodies of water. This perspective opens us to understanding identities as more than individual and fixed, instead recognising them as fluid and continuously changing. Since hydrofeminism argues that everything is interconnected, ethical artistic practice should consider, alongside conventional feminist gender perspectives, ecological justice, interspecies relationships, and the rights and well-being of water itself.

Ultimately, hydrofeminism does not offer definitive answers or prescriptive solutions. Instead, it invites ongoing attentiveness, listening, and response. For artists and media practitioners, this means remaining open to how practices evolve through relations, contexts, and material conditions, and embracing uncertainty as a space for care, accountability, and collective becoming.

Avaa haitari Sulje haitari

Acim, Y. (2025). The Impact of Media on Identity Construction: Sultan Moulay Slimane University. Dibon Journal of Languages, 1(2), 165–173. https://doi.org/10.64169/djl.28

Alaimo, S. (2010). Bodily natures: Science, environment, and the material self. Indiana University Press.

Barad, K. (2007). Meeting the universe halfway: Quantum physics and the entanglement of matter and meaning. Duke University Press.

Braidotti, R. (2013). The posthuman. Polity Press.

Haraway, D. J. (2016). Staying with the trouble. Making kin in the Chtulucene. Duke University Press.

Identity. (n.d.). In Merriam-Webster.com Dictionary. Retrieved November 24, 2025, from https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/identity

Media. (n.d.). In Dictionary.com. Retrieved December 10, 2025, from https://www.dictionary.com/browse/media

Mytton, D. (2021). Data centre water consumption. npj Clean Water, 4, 11. https://doi.org/10.1038/s41545-021-00101-w

Neimanis, A., & Blackmore, L. (2024, April 28). Learning with water. In La Escuela Journal. Retrieved December 10, 2025, from https://laescuela.art/en/campus/library/journal/learning-with-water-astrida-neimanis

Neimanis, A. (2017). Bodies Of Water – Posthuman Feminist Phenomenology, London and New York: Bloomsbury https://monoskop.org/images/9/90/Neimanis_Astrida_Bodies_of_Water_Posthuman_Feminist_Phenomenology_2017.pdf

Neimanis, A. (2012). Hydrofeminism: Or, on becoming a body of water. In H. Gunkel, C. Nigianni, & F. Söderbäck (Eds.), Undutiful daughters: Mobilizing future concepts, bodies and subjectivities in feminist thought and practice (pp. 96–115). Palgrave Macmillan.

Rose, Gillian. Visual Methodologies: An Introduction to Researching with Visual Materials. (1st ed. 2001; 5th ed. 2022).

Future media: Toward a regenerative practice of care

Ivana Tkalčić
Residency artist on Barcelona, spring 2025

Introduction: The current state – media saturation and technological exposure

Figure 1. Crawford, K., & Joler, V. (2023). Calculating Empires: A genealogy of technology and power, 1500–2025 [Interactive map]. https://calculatingempires.net

Every day we swim in a sea of digital media. Social networks connect billions of people, algorithms tailor our news and entertainment, and artificial intelligence now generates content at scales once unimaginable. In a single internet minute, over 500 hours of video are uploaded to YouTube (YouTube Official Blog, 2025)

-part of an endless flood of information fighting for our attention. This unprecedented media saturation defines contemporary life, bringing both remarkable connectivity and serious cause for concern. On top of that, this media landscape is dominated by a profit-driven attention economy. Social media platforms and tech giants compete for every second of our gaze, designing features to maximize engagement and extract advertising revenue. As scholar Shoshana Zuboff observes, tech company “develop products that condition our behavior in ways that make us more profitable for them” (Zuboff, 2019).

In other words, media has become an instrument of capitalist hyperproduction – churning out endless content and stimulus in pursuit of growth. Critics argue this model is fundamentally unsustainable. The Finnish innovation fund Sitra, for example, warns that our current paradigm of using up resources and generating waste is “unsustainable and harmful to the environment” (Sitra, 2023). This degenerative model, driven by hyperproduction, treats human attention and natural resources as expendable fuel for perpetual “progress.” One immediate consequence of the always-on media environment is a toll on mental health. Studies have linked heavy social media use to increased anxiety, depression, and attention difficulties.

In 2023, the U.S. Surgeon General issued an advisory describing the “unprecedented” mental health challenges faced by youth in part due to social media, warning of “alarming” effects on well-being(Office of the Surgeon General, 2023). Endless scrolling through curated feeds can foster unhealthy social comparison and fear of missing out (FOMO), undermining self-esteem. The constant pull of notifications and content fragments our attention span and mental energy, often leading to “digital burnout.” What should be a tool for connection and information can easily become an exhausting treadmill for the mind. Our very sense of reality is also splintering under the influence of algorithmic media. Filter bubbles and personalized feeds mean that two people online may inhabit starkly different worlds of information. Highly optimized feeds, bots, and AI-generated content are “challenging the very nature of ‘reality’” and reshaping human perception.

We enjoy personalized news streams that feel convenient, but behind the scenes digital platforms filter what we see to serve our “needs,” creating a “personal bubble world, a comfortable illusion”. The problem with this bubble vision is that it traps users in “parallel information universe[s]” that feed on themselves, isolating people from any facts or viewpoints that don’t reinforce their own. Indeed, the 2023 Edelman Trust Barometer found that our once-shared media sphere has given way to echo chambers, making it harder to solve problems together; public trust in media is at a low point, with especially low trust in social media (Edelman, 2023). In such a fragmented landscape, even basic consensus on truth becomes difficult – a sobering development for democracy and society. In addition to that, the ecological footprint of today’s digital infrastructure is enormous. The data centers and networks powering our virtual world guzzle huge amounts of electricity and water. The communications industry so far are using 4% of all electricity (Ericsson, 2025), however, with the rapid expansion of data centers, the proliferation of artificial intelligence, and the increasing demand for digital services, electricity consumption in this sector is expected to continue growing.

The International Energy Agency (IEA) forecasts that global electricity demand will increase by approximately 4% annually through 2027, with data centers being a major contributor to this rise(Data Center Knowledge, 2024). Storing and transmitting our data isn’t clean either: within a few years, data centers alone may produce more CO₂ emissions than the entire aviation industry. The rise of AI is amplifying these impacts – training a single large AI model like OpenAI’s GPT-3 was estimated to consume 1,287 MWh of electricity, emitting around 552 tons of CO₂ in the process (MIT News, 2025). Each query to an AI system draws on energy-hungry servers, and the cumulative demand is straining power grids. Additionally, the hardware boom behind digital media has a heavy material cost. Rare minerals for our devices must be mined, often at great human and ecological expense: mining cobalt and lithium for batteries, for instance, has a “significantly toxic ecological footprint” and has been linked to serious human rights abuses (Scientific American, 2023). From the carbon emissions of cloud computing to e-waste poisoning lands and communities, media technology’s environmental externalities are becoming harder to ignore.

Degrowth and future media: How can we imagine a different future of media?

Figure 2. Crawford, K., & Joler, V. (2021). Anatomy of an AI system: The planetary costs of artificial intelligence [Interactive research project]. Retrieved from https://anatomyof.ai

The mythology of linear progress has long cast technology as an ever-ascending line – faster networks, more content, smarter algorithms, an endless more. But in an age of ecological and social limits, “more” is losing its glow. Now “‘more’ is no longer better” – in fact, more is driving us toward systemic collapse. The need for perpetual upgrade and expansion in digital media is part of this trembling ideology. Each new smartphone or data center promises improvement yet leaves behind growing e-waste and energy hunger. The quest to maximize clicks and computing power has delivered convenience, yes, but also a creeping sense that we are nearing a cliff where quantity overwhelms quality.

The assumption that technological growth equals human progress is revealed as a narrow fiction, one that ignores the costs concealed beneath shiny exteriors. Those hidden costs have been carefully mapped by researchers and artists alike. In Anatomy of an AI System, Kate Crawford and Vladan Joler peel back the smooth shell of an Amazon Echo to reveal “interlaced chains of resource extraction, human labor and algorithmic processing” spanning the globe (Crawford, Joler, 2018).

A simple voice command (“Alexa, turn on the lights”) activates a vast network: rare earth minerals mined from scarred landscapes, underpaid click-workers moderating data, warehouses guzzling electricity. At every level, contemporary technology runs on exploitation – of human bodies, of communities, of the earth itself. Media devices arrive in our hands as polished gadgets only because their rough origins – the polluted mines, the undersea cables, the CO₂-belching server farms – are kept safely out of sight.  As art historian Jaime Vindel argues, our cultural imaginaries have normalized this linkage between fossil-fueled energy, technological development, and the rhetoric of progress.

The “aesthetic and cultural aspects of fossil capitalism” have made the marriage of high- tech and high-extraction feel natural. We scroll and swipe in blissful ignorance, even as the sleek design of our devices “obscure[s] the provenance of the minerals” and the labor that sustains them (Vindel, 2023). It is in response to this crisis that the degrowth movement enters with a clear call: less can be more. Degrowth thinkers invert the progress narrative, insisting that well-being improves not by constant expansion but by deliberate contraction of excess. They propose a “planned reduction of energy and resource throughput” to bring human systems back into balance with the living world (Reality Studies, 2023).

Instead of measuring success by GDP or the next iPhone release, degrowth asks us to measure it by sufficiency, equity, and resilience. This means slowing down, repairing and reusing rather than incessantly replacing, and focusing on local, regenerative practices instead of global extraction. In practice, degrowth “emphasizes hyper-local solutions while reducing excess resource and energy throughput”. It rejects the premise of common in “green growth” rhetoric with rather, growth itself is “intrinsically not sustainable” under current conditions. If the ideology of more has brought us to the brink, degrowth imagines a media future that privileges quality, sustainability, and care over quantity. Crucially, this is not a surrender to stagnation or innovation, it is, as economist Herman Daly distinguished, a shift from mere growth (getting bigger) to authentic development (getting better). “When something grows, it gets bigger… whereas when something develops, it gets better in a qualitative sense” (Biddlecome, 2023).

Degrowth urges us to seek that qualitative betterment – richer relationships, more meaningful content, technologies built for longevity and social value – instead of mindlessly accumulating upgrades and profits. How might these principles reshape the world of media creation and use? Imagine applying a philosophy of slowdown and sufficiency to our digital life. Already a “slow media” movement has begun sketching the contours of such an alternative. Like the slow food ethos, Slow Media advocates for mindful production and consumption of media, rather than the frantic pace of clicks and streams.

Back in 2010, the Slow Media Manifesto presciently noted that after the burst of the early internet, people would seek not “even easier, faster” content but rather more meaningful engagement. Slow Media, the manifesto says, is “not about fast consumption but about choosing the ingredients mindfully and preparing them in a concentrated manner”. It calls for media that are sustainable in their very materials and labor – no more smartphones assembled in sweatshops or data harvested in violation of privacy. In a Slow Media paradigm, a platform’s success is measured not by how addictive and omnipresent is, but by its ability to enrich a community, to spark dialogue, to endure over time (Slow Media, 2010).Such principles correspond perfectly with degrowth’s aims.

A degrown media ecosystem might favor small, low- power community networks over energy-hungry global server farms; open-source tools maintained by communities rather than proprietary platforms that must constantly scale; locally rooted storytelling instead of clickbait optimized for algorithmic virality. In this spirit, more content or tech is not the goal – better and enough is. Artists and cultural workers are at the forefront of imagining this different media future. But as cultural critic Leigh Biddlecome observes, degrowth is not about stasis – it’s about unleashing creativity within ecological limits. Freed from the pressure to constantly produce “the next big thing,” artists can turn towards depth, context, and collaboration. In degrowth economics, one key idea is redistribution: doing away with winner-take-all systems so that resources and opportunities are shared. In the art world this might mean fewer blockbuster exhibitions and more support for grassroots media labs; fewer billionaire-funded biennales and more community art spaces powered by solidarity. It also means evaluating practices that the growth-driven art market ignores – like repair, maintenance, and open knowledge sharing. 

As Biddlecome notes, we might see museums mount fewer shows per year to reduce the “art-show-as-consumer-product” churn, focusing instead on deeper public engagement and better working conditions for creators (Biddlecome, 2023). Such shifts echo degrowth’s call for slower, care-centric production in all fields. Artists, in turn, contribute something vital to degrowth: the work of the imagination. They create the stories, symbols, and experiences that let us feel what a sustainable future could be. Without such cultural perception, policy shifts and technical fixes won’t gain traction – we need to invasion the different world before we can build it. Throughout history, artists have been our scouts of possibility, and today they are modeling ways to live and create beyond the growth paradigm. We see it in ecological art that works with natural rhythms instead of against them, in digital installations that reveal the data centers and mines behind the cloud, in experiments with “solar punk” aesthetics of resilience. Likewise, across the globe, artists are engaging in acts of “collaborative survival,” (Tsing, 2015) to borrow anthropologist Anna Tsing’s phrase.

Tsing, in The Mushroom at the End of the World, describes how in the ruined forests of Oregon, humans and matsutake mushrooms and pine trees form unlikely alliances, cultivating each other without intending to. No single agent is in control; together they create “landscapes of unintentional design” out of the rubble of capitalism. This vision of multispecies resilience resonates deeply with how artists approach a future media ecology. In the cracks of our broken systems, artists find fungi-like opportunities – reusing discarded technology, reclaiming public spaces, forging networks of care and knowledge that sprout in the “capitalist ruins”. They show that even amid scarcity, creativity can bloom and communal worlds can be made. Imagining and enacting a degrowth-oriented media future is not a task for artists alone. It is a collective project of cultural invention, one that involves policymakers, technologists, and citizens as well.

Yet the artistic and humanistic perspective is indispensable because it asks the most fundamental questions: What is truly worth sustaining? What do we value when more is off the table? In other words, we must craft new cultural narratives as boldly as the tech sector once crafted its gadgets. What might some of these narratives and futures look like? Perhaps we glimpse a world where digital media has seasons and rhythms, rather than an incessant 24/7 churn. News platforms might adopt slow journalism that prioritizes context and reflection. Social networks could be cooperatively owned, kept at human scale, and designed to fade content gently into communal archives rather than triggering endless novelty. Virtual spaces might be lit by renewable energy budgets – imagine an online forum that closes when the sun sets or the wind dies down, reminding participants of their connection to local energy flows. In such futures, artists and users alike become gardeners of technology, pruning and tending their tools in line with ecological cycles. The prevailing aesthetic is no longer glossy hyper- stimulation, but what Spanish researcher Jaime Vindel calls a new sensibility after “fossil aesthetics”

– an art of careful stewardship and earthy honesty, where the means of media production (the cables, the code, the carbon footprint) are made transparent and accountable. Media devices might visibly age and patina like leather, inviting repair and attachment, rather than hiding their wear. Our entire notion of innovation could shift: innovation becomes imaginative reuse, the brilliance of doing better with less. These visions may sound utopian, but they are being seeded in the here and now by cultural practitioners who refuse to believe that our high-speed, high-volume media trajectory is the only path forward. They are, to evoke Tsing one more time, learning the “arts of noticing” the possible lives in the wreckage of the present.

Future media as “Nature” – Technologies that mimic natural processes

Figure 3. Interesting Engineering. (2023, April 24). What are mushroom computers? Retrieved from https://interestingengineering.com/science/what-are-mushroom-computers

Future media may no longer be a neutral tool at humanity’s disposal, but a living presence entwined in the ecological web of our planet. Envision a media technology that behaves like a forest or a coral reef – cyclical, adaptive, and regenerative. Rather than dominating nature, such technologies participate in it, following patterns of renewal and interdependence. In this view, humanity and its media are an integral part of an interconnected web of life in which there is no real separation between ‘us’ and ‘it’. Any harm to one strand of this web reverberates across the whole, reminding us that true innovation must work with the living world’s rhythms, not against them. This perspective draws on philosophical currents that blend speculation with care.

Science and technology scholar María Puig de la Bellacasa argues that care is not just a human sentiment but a web of practices and obligations that extends to non-humans and even technological things. In her Matters of Care (Puig de la Bellacasa, 2017) she urges us to see technoscience and “naturecultures” as entangled in a living web of care, where even “objects” have agency and merit ethical consideration. Similarly, feminist philosopher Donna Haraway invites us to practice sympoiesis, or “making-with,” a collaborative approach that blurs boundaries between human, animal, and machine. Haraway’s cyborg metaphor – a hybrid of organism and machine – is not a dystopian figure, but a call to kinship across species and technologies, fostering relationships of kin and care rather than mastery. (RenMinds, 2024). Together, these thinkers help reimagine media technology as a relational agent – something that grows with and nurtures the larger community of life.

One scientific example is a researcher showcasing a biodegradable printed circuit, specifically designed to safely decompose after use. By embedding enzymes in its polymers, the circuit can dissolve in warm water and release its metal components for reuse, mimicking nature’s nutrient cycles. Technologies inspired by biomimicry are already pointing the way toward this regenerative model. For example, engineers have created biodegradable electronics that function like the fallen leaves of a tree – here for a season of use, then harmlessly returning to the earth. In 2022, a Berkeley Lab team unveiled a fully recyclable, biodegradable circuit that works like any flexible circuit but can be decomposed and recycled without toxic waste. After use, it dissolves and yields up its conductive metals for recovery, diverting electronic devices from landfills and mitigating the heavy-metal pollution of e-waste (Berkley Lab, 2022).

This ethos is a radical shift from today’s extractive gadget economy. Instead of heaps of plastic and silicon persisting for centuries, our future media devices might biodegrade like fruit – their remnants feeding into new production, as techno-ecological compost. Another vivid example comes from the world beneath our feet: the vast mycelial networks of fungi. In nature, mycelium threads weave a “wood wide web,” exchanging nutrients and information among trees. Technologists are now exploring mycelium-based networks that could transform computing. Imagine a network grown rather than built – living circuits that self-assemble and heal like a fungal colony. Researchers have begun prototyping “mushroom computers,” using living fungi in place of silicon chips. In such a device, the fungus’s mycelium is the circuitry: it conducts signals, processes data, and even stores memory, all while being a living, evolving system. Early studies show that fungi can transmit electrical impulses and respond to stimuli, behaving in some ways like neurons or logic gates. The promise of this approach is extraordinary: these organic networks could be biodegradable and self-repairing by nature.  A mycelium computer might “grow back” after damage, much as a forest regrows after a fire. It runs on the metabolism of the fungus (no external power needed beyond feeding the organism), and when it’s no longer needed, it could simply decompose, leaving no toxic junk (Interesting Engineering, 2022).

This is media technology as forest ecology – resilient, adaptive, and seamlessly recyclable. Regenerative media also emerges at the intersection of biology and energy. Consider the prototype of an algae-powered computer: a small device containing cyanobacteria (blue-green algae) that photosynthesize under sunlight. In a recent experiment, scientists sealed a colony of algae in a casing about the size of an AA battery and left it on a windowsill (The Verge, 2022). The algae produced a steady electric current through photosynthesis, enough to power a microprocessor continuously for a year – and counting – using nothing but ambient light and water (University of Cambridge, 2022).

This solar-biological hybrid functions like a tiny leaf feeding an electronic brain. Its energy source is literally life itself: as long as the algae have light and nutrients, they renew their energy, unlike a finite battery that drains away. Such devices hint at a shift from consuming resources to coexisting with living systems. We could have sensors and media nodes that are nourished by sunlight and algae, quietly filtering CO₂ and releasing oxygen as they run. They demonstrate a move toward circular models of innovation, where power generation and computation form a closed-loop with organic processes. In essence, computing becomes a part of the photosynthetic cycle – a symbiosis of silicon and chlorophyll. Across these examples, a common thread is the transition from extractive models to cyclical ones. Today’s media technologies often rely on mining rare minerals, burning fossil fuels for energy, and producing waste that outlives us. The alternatives imagined here operate more like an ecosystem: each component is designed to  feed other parts of the cycle, not just take from it.

This aligns with what the Finnish future fund Sitra calls talous elämän palveluksessa – an economy (and by extension, a media system) “in service of life.” In Sitra’s vision, a truly regenerative economy “operates in service to life, strengthening the vitality of the natural and social systems” on which it depends (Sitra, 2023).

Applying this to media means creating an information ecosystem that enriches life instead of depleting it. Imagine media networks that restore environments as they expand – for instance, Wi-Fi routers doubling as planters or pollinator hubs, or server farms that not only draw power from renewable sources but also feed excess heat to greenhouses. In a media ecosystem inspired by nature, innovation is measured by how well it nurtures the web of life. The focus shifts from control to care, from users to partners, from exploitation to interdependence. Future media, reconceived as nature, becomes a regenerative, relational, and caring force – not an external add-on to life, but an integral living strand in life’s rich tapestry.

Media as a space of regeneration and experience

Figure 4. Tkalčić, I. (2024). Catching the Wind [Performance documentation]. Hyperborealis artist residency, Kvitbrakka AiR, Berlevåg Havnemuseum, Berlevåg, Norway. https://ivanatkalcic.com/2024/11/29/catching-the-wind/

My body meets the soil as two skins touching—human skin and earth skin-soil. In my practice I often begin by pressing my hands into the ground, feeling the cool moisture and grain of dirt. This bodily contact is not just metaphor; it is medium. I think of EarthSkin, my ongoing exploration of the connection between human skin and soil, as a literal and symbolic interface that highlights a regenerative kinship between us. The body becomes an organ of perception attuned to the Earth—a living world that quietly communicates through our skin. In these moments of wordless contact, I learn that media can be regenerative, not merely representational.

By “media” I do not mean screens or gadgets, but any space of exchange between human and environment. A silent pause, a slow breath in sync with the breeze, the subtle tremor of earth underfoot—these are media too, carrying information through feeling. Such micro-signals and natural rhythms recalibrate my senses in ways no bright screen or algorithm can simulate. I have grown wary of techno-optimism; the more our world floods with digital noise, the more I need the presence of soil and wind against my skin. A performance still from Catching the Wind (2024)(Tkalčić, 2024) I am in a remote, rocky landscape of Finnmark, using a reflective sheet to catch the wind—making the invisible air currents visible as they billow against me. In this work, I turned the idea of media-as-contact-surface into practice. Using simple materials, I transformed the wind’s motion into movement, making an invisible force tangible. My own body became an instrument, swaying and yielding to translate the atmosphere’s subtle cues. As gusts pressed against my skin, the boundary between self and environment blurred—the wind moved me as much as I moved with it. In that airy exchange I felt both humility and wonder, as if the sky itself were making a statement. It affirmed that media can literally be the air between us, a dynamic space where human and nature meet in dialogue.

Performing Astronaut(s) without a spaceship (2020)(Tkalčić, 2022) in my hometown forest: I wear an improvised “space suit” of reflective foil, enacting a hypothetical off-world exploration on Earth. Not so long ago I looked to the stars in search of new worlds, but that journey led me straight back to Earth. In a series of what I think of as “terraforming exercises,” I engaged in analog astronaut training and site-specific performances to probe humanity’s spacefaring dreams and their ethical implications. I realized that while people speak of colonizing Mars or the Moon, it is our own fragile planet that urgently needs healing — the exploitation of Earth’s resources must give way to regeneration. In fact, we will likely need to “terraform” Earth itself before dreaming of other worlds. My time in astronaut simulations became an artistic meditation: inside a bulky suit, trudging through a familiar forest as if it were alien terrain, I saw the absurdity of seeking salvation in the stars while neglecting the ground beneath my feet.

These exercises instilled in me a rejection of escapist techno-optimism and a conviction that any future worth imagining must grow from an intimate, responsible relationship with the Earth. Across these projects and experiences, I return to a simple truth: we map our world not only with satellites and coordinates, but with our bodies and senses. I am inspired by those who, like Frédérique Aït- Touati in Terra Forma(Aït-Touati, Grégoire, Tsingarida, 2022) urge us to extend mapping and knowing beyond Cartesian grids and into situated, embodied perspectives.

My own artistic research has become a kind of cartography of the essential—one rooted in planetary rhythms and attentive to the Earth’s pulse. By rejecting disembodied abstraction, I have adopted an ecological and embodied ontology—one that situates being within material, sensory engagement with the environment, acknowledging the physical realities of the body, such as contact with soil and the act of breathing. Future media, as I see it, is not about inventing new technologies at all, but about re-discovering the media of life itself—the regenerative spaces where human experience and Earth converge and co-create.

Professional media practice in the future

Figure 5. Tkalčić, I. (2017). Artistic residency July–August 2017 – Kunstnarhuset Messen, Ålvik, Norway. Kunstnarhuset Messen.

In envisioning the future of professional media, one must imagine a digital ecosystem that heals and reconnects rather than extracts and exploits. Today’s media infrastructures frequently mine attention as a resource, stretch labor thin, and operate on energy-intensive systems that remain largely invisible to their users. But tomorrow’s media could be regenerative—designed not to dominate, but to nourish. This shift calls for a fundamental change in how media professionals approach their work: less as a race for visibility and growth, and more as a practice of stewardship and presence. In this context, media is no longer a tool to scale up but a space to ground down, returning to rhythms of care, locality, and renewal.

This vision finds resonance in Jenny Odell’s How to Do Nothing: Resisting the Attention Economy (2019)(Odell, 2019), where she challenges the compulsion to stay online, be productive, and remain visible at all times. Odell argues that refusing to engage with the logic of optimization can be an act of political and ecological resistance.  Her insistence on cultivating presence—through birdwatching, deep listening, and communal time—models an ethic that future media practitioners might embrace: what she calls “doing nothing” is not inertia, but the creation of space for regenerative engagement. In this spirit, one emerging practice is media fasting—intentional periods of digital disconnection that allow attention to settle and senses to reawaken.

A future media culture might build these cycles of withdrawal and return into professional routines, honoring the idea that not all time needs to be productive. Design, too, plays a pivotal role in shaping our media habits. Today’s interfaces are engineered for frictionless consumption: infinite scrolls, autoplay, algorithmic nudging. In contrast, regenerative media would embrace interfaces rooted in natural metaphors—interfaces that slow users down, invite reflection, or mirror seasonal cycles. For example, an app might dim and shift its color palette during twilight, encouraging rest. A publishing platform could release content in seasonal chapters, rather than constant streams. These small design shifts return us to natural rhythms, encouraging media practices that reflect time, place, and embodiment. Even artificial intelligence, often seen as a disembodied force of acceleration, could be realigned in service of natural intelligence. Instead of replacing human attention, AI might be used to support sensory and ecological awareness: suggesting pauses, prompting time in nature, or helping communities share stories rooted in place. In this reimagining, AI becomes a quiet presence—a digital gardener, pruning information overload and augmenting our connection to the living world, rather than severing it.

This echoes María Puig de la Bellacasa’s call to consider matters of care in technoscientific contexts: we must attend to what and whom technologies affect, and how they shape the conditions of shared life (Puig de la Bellacasa, 2017).  Perhaps the most radical proposal is the idea of an “Earthbound Internet” (Bratton, 2021).  —a network architecture and ethic that prioritizes sensibility, locality, and limitation. An Earthbound web would be built with ecological constraints in mind: servers powered by renewables, websites designed for low energy use, data flows that adapt to environmental conditions. There are already prototypes of this vision: websites that shut down on cloudy days to conserve solar power, servers built from reclaimed hardware, mesh networks that serve local communities without relying on corporate clouds.

These infrastructures don’t chase uptime and reach at any cost—they follow the weather, adapt to limits, and speak to the places they serve. Such models also externalize fewer ecological costs and align with the regenerative economy’s core principle: that systems should restore more than they extract. In a regenerative media landscape, success is not measured by growth curves or audience capture, but by the eco-social vitality a project fosters. A news outlet might measure success by its impact on civic trust or local biodiversity awareness, not its ad revenue. A media organization might design for

community resilience—hosting town halls, supporting climate justice storytelling, reinvesting profits into digital literacy and environmental repair. As Sitra (Sitra, 2023) articulates, regenerative systems are those that strengthen the vitality of nature and people—and media, as a cultural and infrastructural force, can either erode or uphold that vitality. In this vision, the future media practitioner is not an extractor, but a tender of connections. They work with rhythms, not against them. They know that speed is not the same as relevance, and that care can be a metric. Interfaces age gracefully. Platforms close at dusk. Stories unfold like gardens in bloom, not products on conveyor belts. Attention is no longer a commodity, but a shared field to protect. In resisting the demands of endless scale, we may find ourselves returning to something deeper—an attention that listens, an internet that breathes, a media that, at last, grows with life.

Conclusion: Media as a practice of care and relationship

The media of the future is not a screen, but a shared space of relationship. In this reimagined future, media is like the soil in which connections grow between humans, nature, and community. Instead of a glowing rectangle isolating us, it becomes an open field or a communal garden where stories, experiences, and understanding are cultivated together. This medium is alive and reciprocal – a conversation, a listening as much as a speaking. It is a living network of relationships, where technology humbly supports the flourishing of life rather than dominating it. We are no longer seeking the perfect code or an optimized algorithm, but a deeper sensory presence and attunement to the world around us. The drive for endless innovation and speed gives way to a quieter aspiration: to truly feel and notice life in its rich, immediate textures.

Future media invites us to slow down and tune in – to the sound of wind in trees, the subtle emotions on a friend’s face, the ebb and flow of communal rhythms. In this slower pace, there is a radical shift from endless growth and output to enoughness and care. By embracing a spirit of degrowth and sufficiency, we learn that doing less but with more attention can reveal profound beauty. Progress is no longer measured by what we can engineer or produce, but by how deeply we can sense, understand, and care for what is here. This attunement is an everyday practice of presence, as simple and transformative as breathing with intention.

In such a world, the role of the artist is not simply to invent novel things, but to remember and recover knowledge from before fossil modernity. The artist becomes a storyteller across time, integrating traditional knowledge and overlooked insights into contemporary contexts. Instead of pursuing an idealized vision of technological progress, they seek orientation in ancestral, indigenous, and pre-industrial systems of knowledge. They reference ancestral practices rooted in attunement to natural cycles, in which ritual served to foster a sense of belonging and human interactions with the wild were guided by principles of respect and reciprocity. These recollections serve as catalysts for inspiration, taking root in contemporary thought and media practices. By revisiting what was marginalized during the acceleration of the fossil-fueled age, artists facilitate a cultural re- engagement with enduring principles: the sanctity of the natural world, the importance of communal bonds, and the rhythms of renewal. Innovation, in this sense, emerges through acts of remembrance—advancing by rearticulating enduring truths that have long been present.

This regenerative media is a form of everyday care – for the planet, for the body, and for cultural life. It is not an industry or a product, but a daily practice, like tending a garden or caring for a loved one. Each act of communication or creation is mindful of its impact on Earth’s ecologies, seeking to nourish rather than deplete. Each design choice, each story told, honors the wellbeing of our bodies and minds, fostering connection instead of distraction or division.

Culturally, media as care means preserving languages, telling diverse stories, and strengthening the bonds that tie communities together. It is degrowth in action: doing more with what we already have, and doing it with kindness and respect. In this way, media becomes a gentle cycle of giving and receiving, more akin to composting and planting than to extraction and waste. The outputs of one creation feed the next generation of ideas, and nothing is thrown away – old narratives are reclaimed, technology is repurposed, relationships continuously renewed. In closing, we envision media as a life-affirming practice. It is slow, relational, and grounded. It is slow in the way a forest grows – with patience, resilience, and an understanding that meaningful change unfolds over time. It is relational, defined by cooperation and kinship, always reminding us that we exist in an ecosystem of beings and stories together. And it is grounded, firmly rooted in the Earth and in our bodies, never losing sight of the real places and people from which it arises.

This gentle vision stands in clear contrast to the frenetic, disembodied media of yesterday. It shows us a path forward where media is not an escape from life, but a celebration of life. In this future, every tweet could be like a birdsong and every video call like sitting around a village fire – technology and art simply helping us care for one another and for our world. Media, finally, becomes a practice of care and relationship: a humble, continuous act of nourishing the web of life to which we all belong.

Avaa haitari Sulje haitari

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AI, creativity, and the artist’s presence in the digital age

Tianjun Li, Visual and sound artist, Finland
Residency artist on Barcelona, spring 2025

Introduction

When the wind carries a voice that sounds almost human, but not quite, do we listen with curiosity- or with fear?

Figure 1. Image Generated by ChatGPT followed the instruction of ”Generate an image descripting the relation between human and AI in art creating”

In an era when A.I. can generate a new ”photograph” and even compose the human voice, artists confront both a thrilling and unsettling dilemma: Is A.I. expanding what we think of as creativity, or is it merely mimicking it while quietly replacing the age-old practice of the human creator? I suspect these is a question that doesn’t have easy answers, at least for those of us trying not just to negotiate new technologies/mediums, but new geographies, languages and identities as well.

I am making a Toolkit that is informed by my experience as an interdisciplinary artist- using photography, video, sound, and performance- and as someone new to the European cultural context. It reflects on how the digital media, notably AI and the social media, are changing the role, voice and visibility of the artist of our times. In the following pages, with the cases from my own and others, I will examine AI from both a creative and critical perspective. I ask: What happens when machines speak for us, or even as us? Can AI be more than an efficient assistant—can it become a co-creator of artistic language?

I will also explore social media not just as a promotional tool but as a performative, interactive, and collaborative medium that allows underrepresented voices to cut through dominant narratives. Finally, I will share insights and guidance for non-EU artists like myself, who are seeking to build sustainable artistic practices within the European context.

AI in the arts: Tool or threat?

I would like to share my experiences and reflections through the artistic mediums I am most familiar with, as a way to open up the questions: Image (Photograph) and Sound (Voice).

On AI and photography

Before we ask how A.I. is changing photography, perhaps we must first ask: What is photography?

Is it the act of capturing light as it reflects off the world? A tool for recording presence: proof that “I was there”? Or has it always been something more- an emotional impression, a constructed gaze, a trace of longing pressed into pixels or celluloid?

From the very beginning, photography has walked the line between documentation and illusion. Even early practitioners like Oscar Rejlander and later, Man Ray, were manipulating images long before Photoshop or AI ever existed. The photograph has never been purely objective.

And yet, what distinguished photography from painting or drawing was precisely its indexical relationship to the real world. Light touched a surface. Something happened. Someone clicked the shutter. In this sense, photography is not just an image- it is a moment captured in time, tied to place, presence, and a human body behind the lens.

So what happens when no such moment existed? When the image we’re looking of places we’ve never set foot in, visions we’ve never truly seen. This is both fascinating and deeply unsettling.

I don’t believe AI replaces the technical craft of photography. But photography itself has grown far beyond its initial role as a recording device- it is now a visual   language through which we can construct layered, complex, and deeply personal narratives. In this way, photography becomes less about depicting the at has no anchor in lived experience? When AI-generated images, trained on billions of real photographs, produce “photographs” of people who never lived, places that never existed? Can these still be called photographs?

Technically, perhaps not. They are digital images in the visual language of photography. But something is missing. What’s missing is witness.

AI images may mimic the aesthetics of photography—the depth of field, the lighting, the imperfections even- but they do not come from the act of witnessing. There is no human standing in the snow, holding their breath, waiting for the right light. No one lay on the grass for an hour to photograph that insect. No one crossed a border or knocked on a stranger’s door.

This distinction is especially critical in documentary and news photography, where truth and accountability are foundational. AI blurs those lines, sometimes dangerously. Fake protest photos, AI-generated political figures, war scenes that never happened- these aren’t just “creative experiments”; they’re ethical minefields. In the context of photography as art, though, the boundaries are more flexible.

Artistic photography has long played with fiction, fantasy, construction. Here, AI might be seen less as a threat and more as a provocateur-a challenge to push the medium even further.

As an artist whose  one  of the primary mediums is photography, in recent years, I’ve often found myself reflecting on the evolving role of photography in the age of AI. Historically, the essence of photography has been tied to its ability to record reality. That fundamental connection to presence: being there, witnessing, capturing- has always mattered. And yet today, with the emergence of image-generating tools like Midjourney, we are able to produce photographs world exactly as it is, and more about using what we see to express what we feel, imagine, or question.

Looking ahead, I think the future of photography will split along two threads. One will move closer to the raw essence of documentation- the desire to preserve and witness reality. The other will dissolve the emphasis on photographic “truth” altogether, encouraging artists to use the medium more like a painter uses a brush – bending, combining, even distorting images to express inner worlds.

The rise of AI complicates this further. Many of my own works have been mistaken for “fake photos” because of their surreal, dreamlike aesthetic- layered images, altered palettes, impossible landscapes. But these works always originate from my own photographs, taken in real places, during real encounters. For example, I once encountered a mountain goat on a steep cliff on a remote southern island in China.  I reimagined that goat wandering through a surreal blue cosmos made of glass, rust, industrial debris, and sea mist- all images I had captured myself. This wasn’t fiction, but a poetic reconstruction of reality, filtered through memory, imagination, and longing.

Figure 2. Tianjun Li, A Goat in Blue, Photography, 2018

Still, we live in a time where photos are consumed in seconds, mostly on screens. Most people rarely consider who made an image or what it means. They react to visual sensation. And in that space, AI can easily dominate — because it generates fast, visually seductive, hyperreal content. I do worry that many meaningful, process- heavy, and emotionally invested photographic works will be drowned in a sea of AI- generated gloss. But I also see this as a challenge to artists: to reassert the value of the human eye, the body, the story.

What distinguishes human-made art from AI-generated images is not just technique: it’s the lived experience behind the image. My practice is deeply rooted in my own physical and emotional journeys- from the forests I once called home, now destroyed, to the migrant routes I’ve traveled, to the imagined utopias I construct in my installations. AI doesn’t feel the cold wind on that cliff, nor the longing of leaving a homeland behind. It can simulate, but it cannot embody.

That said, I don’t think of AI as an enemy. It’s a tool — and a powerful one. For me, the danger lies not in the tool itself, but in how thoughtlessly it is used. If we can integrate AI thoughtfully, with intention, and maintain a critical awareness of authorship, ethics, and context, it may actually open new doors in creative practice.

I do have concerns, especially around copyright and the erosion of trust in photography’s truth-telling power. When AI-generated “fake photographs” begin to circulate featuring recognizable figures or events, it raises complex ethical and legal questions. Who owns what? Who is responsible? What happens when the line between the documented and the fabricated disappears entirely?

Of course, the rise of AI also sparks real anxiety in many creative fields. It’s a seismic shift. In history, every major technological revolution has displaced certain roles while birthing new ones. Graphic designers, commercial photographers, even journalists — these roles are already being affected. And yet I don’t believe artists can or should try to compete with machines. Our strength lies in our ability to feel, to reflect, and to imagine otherwise.

Ethical considerations and authenticity

The integration of AI into art raises significant ethical questions. One concern is the authenticity of AI-generated works. For example, the BBC used AI to recreate writing classes ”taught” by the late Agatha Christie, utilizing her likeness and voice. While the project aimed to preserve her legacy, it sparked debates about the ethical implications of posthumous representations. https://www.bbcmaestro.com/courses/agatha-christie/writing.

Moreover, the use of AI to replicate distinctive artistic styles has led to controversies. OpenAI’s generation of images in the style of Studio Ghibli prompted criticism from the studio’s co-founder, Hayao Miyazaki, who viewed AI-generated art as lacking the ”soul” of human-created works.

Figure 3. Deborah Szapiro notes that OpenAI is exploiting the ”comfort and safeness and the beauty of Miyazaki’s world”. (Facebook: Studio Ghibli) https://www.abc.net.au/news/2025-04-03/the-controversial-chatgpt-studio-ghibli- trend-explained/105125570

The rise of AI also poses challenges to traditional artistic labor. As AI becomes more capable of producing high-quality content, artists may find their work devalued or replaced. This shift necessitates a reevaluation of the role of the artist and the importance of human creativity in an increasingly automated world.

AI in sound art and ecological narratives

AI’s application extends beyond visual arts into sound art and ecological storytelling. One of my favourite works is Icelandic artist Björk’s installation ”Kórsafn” that utilized AI to create an evolving soundscape in a New York hotel lobby. The AI system responded to real-time environmental data, such as weather and bird migrations, to modulate choral compositions, creating a dynamic auditory experience.

Figure 4. Screenshot, Björk’s installation Kórsafn

In another project, ”Nature Manifesto,” Björk collaborated with the French Institute for Research and Coordination in Acoustics/Music (IRCAM) to reconstruct the calls of extinct animals using AI. This immersive installation aimed to raise awareness about biodiversity loss and the impact of human activity on ecosystems.

Figure 5. Screenshot from a promotional video for Nature Manifesto, created by Sam Balfus (Balfua) https://www.centrepompidou.fr/en/magazine/article/bjoerk-after-plagues-and- pandemics-there-will-be-new-modes-of-existence

Similarly, Italian sound artist David Monacchi’s ”Fragments of Extinction” project involves recording the acoustic biodiversity of primary rainforests. Using specialized equipment and AI analysis, Monacchi creates immersive soundscapes that highlight the richness and fragility of these ecosystems.

Navigating AI as a tool for artistic creation

Despite the challenges and ethical considerations, many artists, including myself, view AI as a valuable tool that can augment creativity, we need to keep questioning it, getting familiar with it, and utilizing it to expand the possibilities of artistic creation.

I would like to quote Björk’s answers in regarding to the controversies of AI:

The choice of using artificial intelligence was also questioned. Björk and Molinari defended this, as both see AI as a tool that can be used creatively and sustainably, with Björk focusing on the importance of human input to give AI a ”soul”, and Molinari stressing the need for sustainable technological practices in the broader context of digital life.

After the exhibition ended, Björk further opinionated: ”this is how we will work in the future. […] if there is no soul in tomorrow’s music made by AI it is because [no one] put it there and we have to speak out and guard this as listeners”, further stating that there is already ”soulless muzak” [sic] on Spotify, ”mass manufactured without the attention of creativity”.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nature_Manifesto

By leveraging AI’s capabilities, artists can explore new forms of expression and reach broader audiences. The key lies in maintaining a balance between embracing technological advancements and preserving the human elements that give art its depth and meaning.

Several AI tools have emerged to assist artists in their creative processes:

Image-based AI tools

Midjourney

A text-to-image AI tool that generates surreal, painterly visuals based on prompts. Many artists use it to sketch conceptual ideas or explore visual atmospheres before translating them into physical media.

Use case: I’ve seen peers use Midjourney to imagine speculative environments or mythical creatures.

Adobe Firefly (within Photoshop)

Integrates generative AI features directly into image editing workflows — including background extension, object removal, and text-to-image generation.

Video-based AI tools

Runway ML (Gen-2)

Enables artists to generate or edit video based on text or image input. It’s not just a shortcut — it’s a tool for rethinking temporality, motion, and visual storytelling.

Use case: I’ve used it to reimagine real-life documentation into dreamlike, layered sequences, exploring memory as something in motion.

Sound-based AI tools

AIVA (Artificial Intelligence Virtual Artist)

A composition tool that generates music based on mood, genre, or narrative theme.

ElevenLabs

A powerful AI voice generator that can clone human voices and produce multilingual voiceovers.

Social media as a platform for artists — Liberating or consuming?

In the past few years, I’ve found myself caught between two very different emotions when it comes to social media: gratitude and exhaustion. On one hand, it has opened doors I never thought I could walk through. On the other, it’s a space that constantly asks for more- more content, more updates, more of myself. For emerging artists like me, especially those without access to traditional gallery systems or institutional networks, social media can be an alternative path. But it can also quietly consume  the very energy we need to create.

The double-edged sword of visibility

When I first began sharing my work online, I was still a student in a foreign country, far from the art world’s centers of power. I didn’t have gallery representation, and my CV was short. But I had a phone, a camera, and a story to tell. On platforms Weibo/ RedNote (Social medias in China functioning like Instagram), I could show my photographs, films, vocal experiments, not in a polished white cube, but in fragments, stories, and spontaneous moments. Slowly, people began to notice.

Invitations followed.

Social media has democratized visibility- at least to an extent. It allows emerging artists to bypass gatekeepers and connect directly with audiences. It creates a space where an artist from a small town, speaking in their own voice, can be seen by thousands or millions around the world. It has also changed the way we understand artistic presence: no longer tied to geography, a “platform” is now both a place of expression and exposure.

But this exposure comes at a cost.

To stay visible, artists are often pushed into a rhythm that’s closer to content creation than artistic practice. The algorithms reward consistency, speed, and engagement. If you disappear for a month to focus deeply on a project- as artists sometimes must- you risk becoming invisible in the feed. This pressure can lead to the production of faster, trendier, more audience-pleasing work. In moments of doubt, I’ve found myself wondering: am I making this image because I need to, or because it will “do well” online?

There’s also a deeper kind of fatigue that social media brings. Sometimes it feels like the labor of being seen is taking time away from the labor of becoming.

Worse still is the anxiety of performance. Numbers of likes, shares, followers start to feel like metrics of worth. It’s easy to fall into comparison, especially when the feed is filled with seemingly successful peers.

On the other way, I’ve experimented with live voice performances via Live, where the audience could respond in real time. I’ve seen artists use comment sections to gather stories, memories, even sounds for participatory works. In this way, social media becomes more than a marketing tool but it becomes part of the artwork itself.

Using social media thoughtfully: Strategy

As with any medium, social media doesn’t come with a manual, and for artists, it can feel both liberating and overwhelming. Over time, I’ve come to understand that using these platforms effectively isn’t about “cracking the algorithm,” but about approaching them with clarity and intention. I’ve learned (often through trial and error) that thoughtful use of social media starts with knowing why I’m there, who I’ m speaking to, and what I want to give and receive from the space.

Know your audience — and your purpose

One of the most important lessons I’ve learned is that numbers are not everything. It can be tempting- especially when starting out- to measure the success of a post or a project by how many likes or shares it gets. But social media is a fast-scrolling, visually overloaded space. Complex, slow, or emotionally layered work often doesn’t “perform” well- but that doesn’t make it any less valuable. Many of my more poetic or research-based works receive less engagement online, yet have led to deep, meaningful conversations offline.

That’s why it’s crucial to define your purpose before chasing popularity. Is your goal to show the making process? To document your research? To connect with peers, curators, or collaborators? Social media can serve all of these- but clarity helps avoid falling into the trap of producing art for the platform, rather than through your own practice.

Of course, not all works are meant to be niche. Some projects- especially those involving participatory elements, activism, or public intervention- do benefit from broader reach and active public involvement. In those cases, visibility becomes a key part of the work’s impact. One example is the globally viral project Postcards from the Future by artist collective Forensic Architecture, which leveraged social media to crowdsource data and awareness around human rights violations. But for many of us, especially those working in poetic, conceptual, or slow media, it’s okay, even necessary, to let go of viral ambitions.

Building a professional artistic presence

Beyond sharing finished works, one of the most effective ways I’ve used social media is as a kind of evolving CV. Regularly updating exhibitions, residencies, performances, or talks helps build a consistent and visible artistic presence. It allows curators and peers to follow your journey, and gives your audience a sense of continuity.

It’s also important to treat your feed and highlights as part of your portfolio. High- quality documentation of key milestones such as exhibitions, performances, or

collaborations — can later be used for applications, websites, or press releases. Professional presence doesn’t mean constant posting, but rather thoughtful consistency. Even if I’m in a slow production phase, I might share something from my sketchbook, my vocal practice, or a short reflection from my artist diary.

A platform for learning and opportunity

While social media is often seen as a place to broadcast, it’s just as valuable as a tool for listening. I’ve discovered many of my residencies, grants, and calls for proposals through Instagram accounts that regularly post opportunities for artists. I make it a habit to follow organizations, funding bodies, and independent curators who are active in sharing open calls. Some of my go-to accounts include:

@residencyunlimited – regularly posts international residencies
@artconnect.opps– open calls, grants, and competitions
@otm.network – On the Move- mobility funding in Europe
@framefinland – for artists working with the Finnish art scene
@nordiskkulturkontakt – Nordic cultural support
@artenda – open calls, grants, and competitions

I also follow contemporary art media and magazines for critical discourse, trends, and new works, such as:

@e_flux
@artreview_magazine
@artnet
@artnews
@friezeofficial

Navigating Europe as an artist from a non-EU background

As an artist from a non-EU country who relocated to Europe during the uncertain years of the pandemic, I’ve often felt like I was standing both inside and outside the frame. The European art world is, in many ways, an exciting and relatively open ecosystem- but navigating it as an immigrant involves invisible labor, quiet adaptation, and persistent negotiation. This toolkit isn’t a complete map, but rather a set of signposts I wish I’d had earlier.

Europe’s art scene & support systems

Europe, as a whole, offers a surprisingly inclusive environment for artists- especially in comparison to many other parts of the world. Many festivals, residencies, and funding bodies are open to artists regardless of citizenship, as long as you legally reside in Europe. From the Nordic countries to Central Europe, there is a general recognition that cultural production benefits from diversity and cross-border exchange.

Public funding for the arts is more normalized here. While levels of support vary country by country, I was struck by how many grants, residency stipends, and institutional collaborations were actually accessible. In Finland, where I’m based, both the local and national arts councils run regular open calls that include non- citizens. In places like the Netherlands, Germany, Sweden, and France, artist support programs often emphasize inclusion, sustainability, and social engagement.

That said, your home country’s ecosystem also matters. Some governments or embassies have cultural grants or collaboration funds specifically for artists living abroad. Others may offer national representation opportunities at international festivals or biennales. It’s worth researching both sides—where you are now, and where you come from.

Visas, funding, and admin realities

This is where things get complicated. Artist residencies and festivals may not always understand the administrative reality of being a non-EU national. While opportunities might say “open to all,” in practice, visa requirements and residency limitations can create hidden barriers.

If you resides outside of EU, before applying to a residency, check whether they offer visa support or invitation leters. Some programs in Germany, Austria, or France are willing to assist, but not all are familiar with immigration processes for non-EU residents.

If you hold a residence permit from an EU country (e.g., Finland), many Schengen- area countries allow short stays without an additional visa.

Building community

One of the most important parts of building a sustainable art practice in Europe is creating a local network. Some steps that helped me:

Attend local exhibition openings, even if you’re shy. These are often informal, free, and good places to meet curators, artists, or organizers. You don’t need to “network” , just be present.

Use social media to your advantage: follow local art centers, independent curators, artist-run spaces. Many opportunities are first posted on Instagram or newsletters

And don’t forget to connect with other immigrant or diasporic artists. I’ve found strength in those who understand the in-betweenness we share- and from those relationships, a different kind of solidarity and artmaking emerges.

A list of Europe-based art funding institutions On the Move

A key platform for mobility and cultural funding across Europe and beyond. Regularly updates open calls for residencies, funding, and art-related travel grants.

Culture Moves Europe

Funded by the EU, it supports artist mobility, residencies, and collaborative projects across borders. Open to artists from non-EU countries residing in Europe.

Pro Helvetia – Swiss Arts Council

Supports contemporary arts from and in Switzerland, including international exchanges, exhibitions, and residencies.

Nordic Culture Point

Funds artistic cooperation between Nordic and Baltic countries. Artists living in the Nordic region (regardless of nationality) are eligible for mobility and network funding.

Also, each countries has their very own funding systems. Extra: Platforms for Finding Residencies and Grants

Res Artis — Global residency network with regular open calls.

TransArtists — Comprehensive list of European artist residencies and funding.

Moving forward, I believe we must continue to ask: What kind of art do we want to make, and for whom?

Whether through embracing AI tools, cultivating healthier relationships with social media, or building new networks as international artists, the future of art is shaped as much by critical awareness as by technological innovation. It’s not about resisting change, but about moving thoughtfully within it- choosing slowness when needed, crafting honest digital presences, and carving space for vulnerable, complex, and human expressions in an increasingly algorithmic world.

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Building professional brand on social media

Kati Koivunen
Keynote speaker at webinar social media and media readership 2024. Article 2025

Introduction

For many artists today, creative work extends beyond making art. Visibility, networking, and self-presentation have become essential parts of professional life. Digital platforms make this possible by offering tools for sharing work and connecting with audiences; however, they also introduce pressures such as constant availability, algorithm-driven attention, and the sense of being “always on the job market” (Jacobson, 2020). In this article, professional branding refers to the ongoing process of defining, communicating, and managing a distinctive professional identity and reputation with relevant audiences.

To understand why this matters, researchers point to both opportunities and ethical concerns. Branding and networking can help individuals in precarious work environments remain visible and signal value to stakeholders (Gandini, 2016; Shepherd, 2005). At the same time, market-oriented rhetoric often places heavy responsibility on individuals and blurs boundaries between work and private life (Lair et al., 2005).

In addition, recent studies describe professional branding as a co-created and dynamic identity process where professionals negotiate who they are and who they want to become in relation to multiple stakeholders (Koivunen, 2023; Dumont & Ots, 2020; Jacobson, 2020). This perspective shifts attention from slogans to the ongoing work of aligning values, competencies, and public visibility.

Social media presence further shapes how artists are discovered, how their work is interpreted, and how relationships with peers, institutions, and supporters develop over time (Labrecque et al., 2011; Scolere et al., 2018; Smith & Fischer, 2020). Studies on attachment to professional brands suggest that followers often connect with people who signal competence, relatedness, and ideality—a mix of skill, emotional connection, and aspirational qualities (Ki et al., 2020). Authenticity is a central element in professional brands, as audiences tend to trust and support those whose digital presence feels consistent with their stated values and actions (Khedher, 2019; Kucharska et al., 2020; Moulard et al., 2015).

Building on these insights, this article offers a practical framework for artists. It focuses on clarifying brand identity, engaging audiences through content and storytelling, and addressing branding challenges so that public presence remains sustainable and grounded in core values.

Professional brand identity

Self-reflection and core identity characteristics

Effective professional branding for artists starts before any post is created. Without a clear sense of professional identity, social media activity easily becomes reactive.

Artists may end up responding to algorithmic trends, perceived expectations, or fast- changing fashions instead of developing a coherent and meaningful presence.

Professional brand identity is distinct from private personal identity and from formal professional role, yet interconnected with both (Koivunen, 2023). For artists, it refers to the way they choose to appear to curators, audiences, peers, funders and clients in their capacity as creative professionals. Three core components are central to this identity: values, competencies, and personal attributes.

Values form a nonnegotiable compass for branding decisions. They may include commitments to sustainability, social justice, experimental practice, accessibility, or community building. When values are explicit, it becomes easier to decide which collaborations to accept, what kind of content to share, and where to draw boundaries. Professionals who can articulate their values clearly tend to find it easier to decide what to share and what to keep private on social media (Koivunen, 2023). For artists, this can involve declining a commercial commission that conflicts with political commitments or choosing to speak publicly about themes such as disability, migration, or climate crisis that are central to their work.

The second element of professional brand identity concerns competencies and expertise. Artists sometimes underestimate the importance of describing their specific skills, techniques, and professional experience in accessible language. Research highlights the need to communicate expertise and distinctive capabilities clearly so that stakeholders can understand what kind of value a professional provides (Labrecque et al., 2011; Parmentier et al., 2013). It is therefore important for creative professionals to identify their technical skills, artistic approaches and areas of knowledge, and to be able to explain what makes their practice distinctive (Koivunen, 2024a).

The third component is personal character: the human qualities that make an artist relatable and memorable, such as humour, calmness, enthusiasm, or critical intensity (Bendisch et al., 2013; Moulard et al., 2015). These attributes influence how people experience interaction in comments, workshops, or studio visits. They can also become part of the artist’s signature, alongside visual style Over time brands change, yet certain elements, like the ears of Mickey Mouse, remain stable and recognisable. In a similar way, an artist may experiment with new themes and techniques while maintaining a recognisable core style or recurring concern that audiences learn to associate with their name. Intentional reflection on values, competencies and character supports a shift from vague discomfort with branding toward a more grounded understanding of what is presented publicly and what is deliberately kept private.

Artists often move between several roles at the same time, such as creator, teacher, curator, activist or cultural worker in institutional settings. These coexisting identities all shape how a professional brand appears to different audiences, even when only some of them are shown explicitly. This is discussed in more detail in chapter Managing Challenges.

Authenticity in a curated world

Authenticity is a central promise in contemporary branding discourse, yet it is frequently simplified into advice such as “just be yourself”. Research on professional branding, however, describes authenticity in more precise terms. Khedher (2019) identifies three dimensions of authenticity in professional branding: personal style, sincerity, and integrity.

Personal style refers to the distinct way individuals present themselves visually and verbally. For artists, this might mean a consistent visual tone across websites and social media, a certain rhythm of posting, or a recognisable way of writing captions. Sincerity involves alignment between internal values and external manifestations, which  includes how an artist speaks about their work and how they treat collaborators and audiences. Integrity concerns adherence to ethical standards and maintenance of consistent behaviour across contexts.

Authenticity is often assessed by the degree of alignment between a person’s online and offline behaviors, consistency across platforms, and coherence between stated values and observable actions (Khedher, 2019). When these elements are in harmony, authenticity is strengthened; when they conflict, trust typically diminishes.

Authenticity does not imply complete transparency. A public persona is always a selective construction that highlights some aspects of the self and keeps others private. This curated version of the self can remain emotionally resonant and trustworthy when selection is guided by clear values and when the narrative stays coherent over time (Dion and Arnould, 2016). Such a perspective is useful for artists who are concerned that strategic engagement with social media might appear inauthentic. Planned authenticity is compatible with ethical practice when planning supports truthful expression and protects personal boundaries. Research on professional branding suggests that strategic curation can enable a sustainable media presence without pushing professionals into constant self-exposure (Jacobson, 2020).

For artists, a practical approach to authenticity might include:

• Defining in advance which topics and aspects of life are “on stage” and which
• remain private
• Using recurring visual and narrative motifs that reflect genuine interests
• Checking occasionally whether online behaviour aligns with how they speak about values in physical contexts, such as studio visits or grant interviews.

These basic choices about values, boundaries, and tone form the ground on which audience strategies can be built, which is the focus of the next section.

Engaging audience: Strategic content creation for artists

The previous section focused on what a professional brand identity consists of. The next step is to consider how this identity meets an audience in practice, through content and interaction on digital platforms.

Identifying stakeholders

Primary stakeholders in a professional brand ecosystem typically include peers and colleagues, potential collaborators, galleries and cultural institutions, collectors and clients, and media representatives. Secondary stakeholders include employers, family and friends, and students or mentees (Dumont & Ots, 2020; Preece & Kerrigan, 2015).

This stakeholder ecosystem has been applied to artists through a ”daisy wheel” of stakeholders, emphasising that the artist’s audience is not a single homogeneous group but a cluster of different viewer types with varying interests and expectations (see Preece & Kerrigan, 2015). For instance:

• Peers may be interested in process, experimentation, and honest accounts of struggle
• Curators may focus on conceptual clarity, exhibition history, and critical positioning
• Collectors may look for images that help them imagine the work in their home
• Funders may scan public engagement, community relevance, and evidence of impact.

Thinking through these groups can help artists design content that speaks directly to the needs of each, without attempting to please everyone at once. In addition to these human stakeholders, algorithms can be understood as non-human stakeholders that shape which content becomes visible (Scolere et al., 2018; Smith & Fischer, 2020).  While algorithms should not dictate identity, awareness of how platform logics work can inform practical decisions about format, timing, and frequency.

Emerging visual artists often approach digital presence with four interrelated objectives: branding, engagement, networking and conversion (Petrides & Vila de Brito, 2024).

Effective online presence requires presenting artistic work in a way that also manages an identifiable artistic brand, invites interaction from audiences and opens concrete networking and career opportunities. Digital visibility works best when it is complemented with encounters and collaborations in the physical world, which together increase the chances of advancing a creative career (Petrides & Vila de Brito, 2024).

Content creation strategies

Once stakeholders are identified, the next question is what to share and how. Research suggests three interconnected strategies for professionals: attuning to attentive audiences, distilling complex work into accessible formats and encouraging amplification through meaningful interaction (Ki et al., 2020; Parmentier et al., 2013; Smith & Fischer, 2020; Koivunen, 2023).

Attuning refers to observing which audiences engage with which content and responding to those patterns while staying within personal values and boundaries. Meaningful signals include comments, shares, direct messages, and the types of topics that reliably resonate. Different platforms also attract different stakeholders, from visually oriented communities on Instagram to professional networks on LinkedIn or process driven engagement on TikTok (Labrecque et al., 2011; Scolere et al., 2018).

Distillation involves presenting artistic ideas and processes in an understandable way without diminishing their depth. This includes storytelling and knowledge sharing.

Storytelling may take thematic, emotional or process-based forms, such as explaining decisions, showing work in progress, or narrating challenges. These help audiences connect with the artist’s motivations and can strengthen perceived relatedness and competence (Ki et al., 2020; Moulard et al., 2015).

Amplification focuses on ensuring that content reaches relevant stakeholders. Indicators may include both quantitative measures, such as engagement rates or reach, and qualitative signs of relevance, such as collaboration requests or invitations to participate in opportunities (Koivunen, 2023). Some professionals find measurement useful for refinement, while others consider it a source of anxiety, suggesting that light touch monitoring centered on meaningful interaction is most sustainable. Ethical inbound methods—such as posing reflective questions, prompting dialogue or encouraging peer sharing—support engagement without relying on manipulative tactics (Parmentier et al., 2013; Smith & Fischer, 2020). These strategies do not remove the emotional and ethical pressures of visibility, yet they offer tools that can support more deliberate responses to those pressures, which are discussed in the next section.

Managing challenges

Even when values, content strategies and stakeholder awareness are in place, professional branding still involves psychological and practical challenges. This section addresses those challenges and the identity work they require.

Identity tensions as catalysts

Professional branding can generate a range of identity tensions, particularly in fields where individuals hold multiple roles and where public visibility is an integral part of professional life. These tensions may emerge between different aspects of identity, between current and aspirational selves, between internal self-perception and external interpretations or between authenticity and perceived market expectations (Koivunen, 2023). Because social media exposes artists to continuous comparison, feedback and visibility, these tensions are often experienced more intensely in digital environments.

Other pressures can also shape identity. Algorithmic incentives may encourage producing content that performs well but does not align with deeper values.

Monetisation pressures may tempt individuals to frame every action in terms of income generation, which can diminish creative experimentation. Privacy concerns arise when personal and professional boundaries blur, especially when online visibility invites unwanted commentary or misuse of images. Together, these dynamics can create emotional strain or uncertainty about how to present oneself.

However, research across organisational contexts emphasises that these tensions are a normal feature of contemporary professional identity, not signs of inadequacy (Kreiner et al., 2006). When recognised rather than avoided, they can prompt reflection on values, priorities, and desired future directions. Several practices can support this reflective work. Clarifying core values helps determine which aspects of identity should be visible and which remain private. Seeking constructive feedback while filtering out unhelpful commentary supports a balanced understanding of external perceptions.

Narrative tools, such as connecting past experiences with present aims and future aspirations, help maintain a sense of continuity and purpose (Ibarra & Barbulescu, 2010).

In this view, identity tensions become catalysts for development. They signal moments when identity is being reshaped, and when choices about visibility, boundaries and direction are especially meaningful. Rather than obstructing professional branding, these tensions form part of the ongoing negotiation through which a coherent and sustainable professional identity emerges in the complex landscapes of contemporary creative work.

Identity work: strategies for managing tensions and building coherence

These tensions link directly to what organisational research calls identity work, the ongoing effort to create, maintain and revise a coherent sense of self in relation to social roles (Brown, 2015; Ibarra & Barbulescu, 2010). Coherence matters because humans need a basic sense of continuity and consistency in identity for psychological well- being (Kreiner et al., 2006).

Identity tensions can be managed through practices that help maintain a sense of coherence across different roles and expectations. Research suggests three broad processes that support this work: balancing identities, evaluating alignment, and telling coherent stories (Koivunen, 2023; Ibarra & Barbulescu, 2010; Kreiner et al., 2006).

The first process involves finding a workable balance between the different identities a person holds. Instead of attempting to hide or separate roles, individuals experiment with ways of combining them, deciding which aspects to foreground and which to keep more private, and shifting emphasis as circumstances change. This balancing process helps maintain continuity across professional and personal contexts (Koivunen, 2023).

The second process involves evaluating identity from both internal and external perspectives. Internally, individuals compare their public presentation with their private sense of self and adjust to ensure that boundaries and values remain clear. Externally, they observe how others interpret their work and presence, using feedback as information while resisting pressure to change in ways that would compromise authenticity. This dual evaluation supports stability by helping individuals understand where their identity feels aligned and where potential gaps appear (Kreiner et al., 2006; Koivunen, 2023).

The third process concerns the role of narrative. Stories that link past experiences with present practice and future aims help create a coherent sense of direction, particularly during periods of transition. Such narratives allow individuals to communicate competence, explain change, and articulate emerging aspirations. (Ibarra & Barbulescu, 2010; Koivunen, 2023).

Together, these practices show that identity development is an ongoing negotiation. When approached reflectively, they help individuals navigate tensions, maintain coherence, and present a professional brand identity that feels both grounded and adaptable.

Common challenges and practical responses

Existing research on professional branding identifies several recurring challenges for creative professionals, such as burnout and constant pressure, negative feedback, comparison and specific risks related to digital platforms (Jacobson, 2020; Koivunen, 2023). Many professionals feel as though they are constantly “on the job market” (Jacobson, 2020). This perception creates pressure to post regularly and respond immediately to every comment or message. Koivunen (2023) observed that this expectation often feels exhausting. However, professionals can alternate between periods of active engagement and times dedicated to creative work, showing that a brand can remain vibrant even when its creator is not continuously online.

Negative feedback also shapes the emotional landscape of online presence. Public visibility brings both constructive critique and hostile commentary, and individuals  must continually decide how to respond. Koivunen (2023) shows that some practitioners interpret criticism as a prompt for clarification or boundary setting, while others use peer support networks to maintain confidence under pressure. These active choices influence whether visibility feels manageable or overwhelming and allow artists to maintain agency in how their identity is negotiated online.

Comparison with others forms another persistent challenge. Social media’s emphasis on polished success can intensify feelings of inadequacy, leading practitioners to question their progress or style. In response, many actively curate their feeds, reduce exposure to content that heightens anxiety, and invest more energy in relationships and communities that offer grounded forms of validation (Koivunen, 2023). These actions help redirect attention toward personally meaningful standards rather than platform- driven metrics.

Platform specific risks further complicate professional branding. Algorithmic changes can abruptly affect visibility. Dependence on a single platform can make careers vulnerable and concerns about plagiarism or image misuse can limit what artists feel safe sharing (Labrecque et al., 2011; Scolere et al., 2018). To address these issues, practitioners often strengthen control over their core channels, such as personal websites or mailing lists, document their work carefully and diversify where they publish. By taking these steps, they actively shape the conditions of their visibility rather than leaving it entirely to platform dynamics.

Conclusion

Professional branding for artists on social media can be understood as an ongoing identity process that unfolds in interaction with stakeholders. Research on professional branding shows that coherent values, competencies, and character traits shape how artists are perceived and how opportunities circulate around their work. The discussion in this article has approached that process from three angles. First, it has emphasised professional brand identity as a combination of values, competencies, and personal character that gives coherence to public presence. Second, it has outlined how this identity encounters audiences through stakeholder awareness and content strategies that support meaningful engagement across platforms. Third, it has examined the tensions, pressures, and risks that accompany visibility and has highlighted reflective practices that help maintain psychological sustainability and identity continuity. Taken together, these perspectives present personal branding not as a cosmetic exercise but as a form of ongoing work on how artistic practice is understood, shared and sustained in contemporary digital culture.

Avaa haitari Sulje haitari

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Best practices for media

Karen Briffa
Residency artist at Turku, autumn 2023

Writing key points from online seminar presentations

I firmly believe that the online seminar served as a pivotal introduction to the intricate world of PMP projects. The presentations were enlightening, but I found the perspectives shared by filmmaker Selma Vilhunen, senior lecturer Marko Luukkonen, and the dynamic duo of Dancer Mikko Makkonen and Milla Jarvipetaja particularly captivating. Their presentations showcased the unparalleled power of media, reaching audiences from the comfort of their homes to the grandeur of a theater. In an era where films effortlessly transcend barriers, even through the screens of cellular phones, it stands as the most potent tool, capable of both advantageous and disadvantageous impact.

The art of dance, too, emerged as a formidable means of self-expression. Like film, dance has the unique ability to convey a myriad of emotions and messages, further amplified when captured on film. Choosing a favorite between the two proves to be a challenging task, as both mediums left a lasting impression on me.

One aspect that significantly resonated with me was the adept use of the laptop camera by the professionals. Their posture and the manner in which they engaged in conversation demonstrated a level of comfort and confidence that not all presenters shared. While it’s understandable that discussing oneself and one’s professional domain might induce discomfort, I believe that when aiming to ’sell’ a product, seizing camera space and dominating the screen is essential. Of course, this perspective is subjective, and I remain open to correction.

Regarding the overall structure of the presentation, I applaud its meticulous planning, including well-timed coffee breaks. Building on the suggestion from the October workshop, I propose exploring the possibility of facilitating physical group meetings for the younger generation, especially those affected by various forms of CovidSyndrome, following the zoom sessions. For instance, in Malta, NATs could opt to gather at PrismsMalta premises, fostering a sense of community among NAT artists keen on collectively engaging with the seminar content.

In conclusion, the online seminar served as an invaluable introduction to the PMP project, with diverse presentations leaving a lasting impact. While appreciating the well-thought-out structure, there’s room to consider additional avenues for interactive engagement, ensuring inclusivity and a sense of camaraderie among participants, particularly the younger generation facing unique challenges.

Topics reflection: Film, dance, music and poetry

All four of these topics resonate deeply with me, and I’ve intentionally arranged them in order of personal connection as media tools. Undoubtedly, each holds paramount significance for the overall fabric of a nation. Filmmaking, whether it takes the form of a concise short film, a compelling TV series, or even a captivating television advertisement, stands out as the quintessential media tool at our disposal.

In contemporary times, this assertion extends to social media platforms, where the proliferation of short films, embodied in the popular format of reels, has become a cultural phenomenon. The allure of creating and consuming reels on platforms like Instagram attests to people’s innate affinity for cinematic storytelling. The visual medium, with its potent narrative capabilities, eliminates the need for textual consumption to grasp the essence of a message. The responsibility lies squarely on the filmmaker to skillfully convey the intended message, and the audience’s response becomes a litmus test of their prowess in wielding this incredibly influential media tool.

In essence, the art of filmmaking transcends mere entertainment; it is a potent vehicle for shaping perceptions, fostering understanding, and etching narratives into the collective consciousness. The filmmaker’s ability to seamlessly communicate ideas and evoke diverse emotions underscores the true power and professionalism inherent in this profoundly impactful medium.

In comparing dance to filmmaking, one finds a similar dynamic with the audience, albeit nuanced by the distinctive characteristics of each dance discipline. Unlike the broad appeal of filmmaking, where audiences may select from diverse genres, each dance form caters to a specific audience. For instance, those captivated by the grace of a ballet dancer embodying a dying swan may not necessarily resonate with the dynamism of a hip-hop performance. However, akin to the selective preferences in film, the dance audience chooses a particular form of the art, immersing themselves in the evocative messages being conveyed. Consider the impactful presentation by the Ukrainian dancer who shared her profound connection to her craft and the compelling narratives she seeks to express through dance. Her performance served as a formidable medium, transcending language and cultural barriers. Through the eloquence of her body movements and choreography, she became a conduit for us to feel the profound pain experienced by her nation. In a room where attendance was not compulsory, her presentation commanded attention, and it was impossible to find anyone who remained untouched. Not a single person left the room unaffected; tears were shed, and emotions were embraced. This poignant episode underscores the formidable power inherent in any form of media — a medium that has the ability to captivate, move, and unite an audience, leaving an indelible imprint on their collective consciousness.

Music wields an immense power, and its mode of dissemination amplifies this influence even further. It serves as a potent tool, and the medium through which it permeates the world stands as the most impactful conduit of all. In a parallel with the film industry, the economic aspect is also entwined with music’s essence. While financial backing often propels music into the limelight, it is crucial to acknowledge that an artist’s prowess isn’t solely measured by billboard success across various genres.

Until the enlightening Day Seminar last September, I had never contemplated poetry as a viable component of a media toolkit. Perhaps my oversight stemmed from perceiving poetry merely as a cultural heritage, a subject confined to the realms of linguistic literature. However, witnessing poets strategically deploy their craft in the digital sphere, crafting messages awaiting comprehension, appreciation, and dissemination, left me awe-struck by the potency of this tool. This observation isn’t exclusive to poetry; it extends to novels and journalism. Yet, with poetry, there exists a nuanced and particularly potent quality to the conveyed message.

When poetry is accompanied by a compelling visual, or better yet, when recited by an actor or the author themselves, the impact is heightened. I vividly recall the moment.

Gabriel Lia passionately recited his poem in Maltese in the workshop week. While the language was unfamiliar to most in the audience, Lia’s emotive delivery and body language conveyed a robust, resounding theme. The audience, though unable to comprehend the language, could palpably feel the strength, conviction, and pungency of the message, creating an unforgettable and impactful experience.

Selected media & art examples

Here are my selected Media & Art examples, illustrating how they’ve adeptly tackled the intricate dance between their audience and the art they embody. These instances stand as compelling showcases of how art can be a dynamic bridge, seamlessly connecting creators and their audience, fostering a profound and engaging encounter.

Medium: Instagram           Instagram – Gabriel Lia
Artist: Gabriel Lia
Art: Poetry and photography

Gabriel, a 24-year-old journalist by profession, is a captivating wordsmith who seamlessly blends the realms of journalism and poetry to create a unique and enthralling literary landscape. Beyond the confines of newsprint and radio waves, he delves into the evocative world of poetry, intertwining his verses with vivid snapshots of his moods captured through photography. This multifaceted approach adds a rich layer to his poetry, allowing readers to not only absorb the words but also experience the emotions and ambiance that inspired them.

In a literary landscape where many poets of his generation succumb to the influence of English due to historical colonial ties, Gabriel stands out as a beacon of linguistic authenticity. Rooted deeply in his mother tongue, he navigates his Maltese heritage with a refreshing commitment, defying the tendency to dilute native languages with the pervasive influence of English—a linguistic legacy of Malta’s nearly 200-year colonial history under British rule until gaining independence in 1964.

My introduction to Gabriel occurred during PMP_NAT’s workshop week in October 2023, where his ability to encapsulate moments within his poetry and bring them to life through recitation left an indelible impression. As I delved into his literary world, I discovered a remarkable individual who not only conveys messages through his verses but also leaves a distinct imprint of his unique style, technique, and poetic persona. Getting to know him more personally during the week only deepened my admiration for the potency of his personal literature.

Despite his prowess in the realm of poetry, Gabriel’s primary professional arena remains journalism. A storyteller in both written and spoken form, he earns his livelihood through contributions to newspapers and radio. In the digital realm, his presence is felt on Instagram, where he shares fragments of his poetic prowess and offers a glimpse into the world where his ”part-time” passion coexists harmoniously with his journalistic endeavors. Gabriel, with his ability to balance the demands of both professions, emerges as a literary force to be reckoned with, captivating audiences through the lens of his words and the power of his storytelling.

Getting to know Gabriel during the October 2023 workshop week was truly enlightening, and delving further into his multifaceted talents revealed another captivating facet of his personality. Beyond his proficiency journalism and poetry, I discovered that Gabriel crafts the witty lines for a locally influential comedic TV personality. What sets him apart is that he embodies the comical side of this personality’s character, a role he executes with admirable finesse.

Gabriel’s comedic contributions hold particular significance, considering that a substantial portion of the nation eagerly tunes in to the local station on Saturday nights, just before embarking on their weekend escapades. The variety show orchestrated by this charismatic personality spans across generations, becoming a cultural touchstone that resonates with diverse audiences. Gabriel’s ability to infuse his unique sense of humor into this widely-watched program not only reflects his artistic prowess but also underscores the broad appeal of his comedic style.

This involvement in the entertainment sphere is not merely a side pursuit for Gabriel; rather, it seamlessly intertwines with his personal brand and business acumen. Much like his distinctive approach to poetry, Gabriel’s sense of humor stands out as a defining feature. The symbiotic relationship between his comedic contributions and his broader artistic endeavors showcases a creative synergy that enriches both spheres of his expressive endeavors. In essence, Gabriel’s role in shaping the comedic landscape of a popular variety show exemplifies not only his versatility but also his commitment to bringing laughter and joy to a diverse audience, spanning different age groups and backgrounds.

Medium: Musical Band The Travellers
Artist: The Travellers
Art: Music with lyrics

Shakespeare’s timeless declaration, ”Let music be the food of love,” resonates through the ages, and I’ve always maintained my own adage: ”Let music be your sunnier side.” Music, as a powerful medium, has the remarkable ability to illuminate and enrich people’s existence. Whether it’s the melancholy strains of a soulful melody or the uplifting notes of a jubilant tune, music serves as a conduit for emotions, allowing listeners to weave their own feelings into the fabric of the soundscape.

My choice for inclusion of this band in my presentation for this toolkit stems from the profound artistic synergy that defines their musical creations. Each song they produce serves as a testament to the exquisite fusion of poetic lyricism and musical craftsmanship, making them a compelling embodiment of the marriage between words and melodies.

In our contemporary era, music has undergone a transformative journey, transcending its traditional roots and embracing digital realms. This evolution has not only expanded its reach but has also offered new avenues for artistic expression. Amidst this dynamic musical landscape, The Travellers, a predominantly Gozitan-based band, stands as a testament to the enduring power of music on our Maltese islands.

For years, The Travellers have been weaving intricate musical tapestries that resonate with the spirit of our community. Their repertoire, predominantly spirited yet always imbued with meaning, narrates heartfelt day-to-day storiesin Maltese. Their tunes, characterized by their infectious energy, have earned them a prominent place on the national stage, with many of their songs becoming staples on both National TV and radio broadcasts.

The widespread availability of their music on platforms like Apple Music and Spotify attests to their embrace of digital avenues, ensuring that their art reaches a diverse audience. In a tech-savvy era, these platforms have become essential conduits for musical exploration, and The Travellers have adeptly navigated these virtual spaces, making their melodies accessible to a global audience.

Furthermore, as the Maltese people tune in to an array of national radio frequencies, including the ever-advancing DAB Radio, The Travellers’ tunes continue to echo through the airwaves. Their music, deeply rooted in the cultural fabric of the islands, resonates not only with the local audience but also transcends geographical boundaries, creating a harmonious bridge between tradition and modernity.

In essence, The Travellers’ musical journey exemplifies the enduring significance of music as a means of storytelling, community bonding, and artistic evolution. Their melodies, like a rhythmic heartbeat, pulse through the collective consciousness of our islands, reminding us that, in the ever-changing symphony of life, music remains a constant source of joy, reflection, and connection.

Medium: Cartoonist, Editorial Cartoonist, Illustrator, Digital Illustrator, Steve Bonello Art
Artist: Steve Bonello
Art: Mostly Ink Pens on paper and Digital illustrations

Steve Bonello stands as a distinguished Maltese cartoonist with a prolific career that spans over three decades, leaving an indelible mark on the local artistic landscape. His creative journey took flight in 1991 when he commenced his weekly contributions to the Sunday Times of Malta, establishing himself as a noteworthy cartoonist in the Maltese media scene.

Beyond the realm of cartoons, Bonello has showcased his artistic versatility by illustrating several books for fellow authors. His talent extends to the creation of his own compilations, where his distinctive illustrations come to life in published works that bear the unmistakable mark of his creative ingenuity.

A significant chapter in Bonello’s career unfolded during Malta’s EU pre-accession information campaign, where his artistic prowess played a vital role. He not only contributed illustrations but also lent his design skills to craft compelling campaign billboards. This involvement reflected not only his artistic proficiency but also his commitment to contributing to important national conversations.

In addition to his cartooning and illustration endeavors, Steve Bonello has made noteworthy contributions to the field of travel writing. His byline can be found in the (then) National Airline Inflight Magazine, Il-Bizzilla, where he shared his insights and perspectives through engaging local articles. Through these contributions, Bonello not only showcased his artistic talent but also became a storyteller, weaving narratives that celebrated the richness of the Maltese culture and landscape.

With a career marked by dedication, creativity, and a commitment to contributing to both the artistic and informational realms, Steve Bonello remains a prominent figure in the cultural tapestry of Malta, leaving an enduring legacy through his cartoons, illustrations, and written contributions.

Around 10 years ago, (now) 63 year old, Steve Bonello transitioned into a phase of life where his passion for art became not only a means of personal fulfillment but also his primary source of income after receiving early retirement from employment within the Flight Schedules Department at Malta’s local Airline – Air Malta.

His current artistic focus involves a poignant and timely endeavor – documenting the trees that grace the landscapes of Malta. This choice carries a profound significance given the ongoing debates and controversies surrounding the preservation of these longstanding natural elements in the face of urban development.

In the wake of contentious discussions about the removal of trees, some of which have stood for centuries, to make way for the ever-expanding concrete structures and roads, Steve has taken on the role of a visual chronicler. Over the past three or four years, he has dedicated himself to capturing the essence of these trees through his drawings. Each stroke of his artistic expression serves as a testament to the resilience and beauty of these natural wonders that have, for so long, been an integral part of Malta’s identity.

In a bold departure from conventional artistic pursuits, Steve has chosen to share his tree-centric creations with the world, not just as expressions of aesthetic appeal but as statements on environmental consciousness and the need for preservation. By turning his art into a livelihood, he has found a way to align his passion with a meaningful cause.

In this digital age, Steve utilizes Facebook as his primary social media platform, creating a virtual gallery where his tree-centric artworks find resonance with a global audience. Through this digital podium, he not only showcases his artistic talent but also engages in a dialogue with his audience, fostering awareness and appreciation for the ecological heritage of Malta.

Steve’s decision to use his art as a medium for both personal sustenance and societal impact is a testament to the transformative power of creativity. As he captures the spirit of Malta’s trees on paper, he not only secures his livelihood but also contributes to a broader narrative of environmental stewardship, urging society to reflect on the value of preserving the natural treasures that define our collective heritage.

Indeed, Steve Bonello’s artistic prowess extends beyond the serene depictions of Malta’s trees, revealing a multifaceted talent that resonates with a wide audience. His creative arsenal includes a wonderful and incisive sarcastic sense of humor, skillfully employed to capture the complexities of Malta’s ever-controversial political landscape. Through his satirical illustrations, Steve navigates the intricate web of political conundrums, offering a unique and thought-provoking commentary on the societal issues that shape the nation.

In addition to his traditional artistic endeavors, Steve has seamlessly embraced the digital realm, showcasing a remarkable knack for digital illustration. This proficiency has not only broadened the scope of his creative expression but has also garnered him a substantial and engaged following. With over 21,000 followers on his social media platform, Steve has created a digital community that appreciates and resonates with his distinctive blend of humor, insight, and artistic talent.

His digital illustrations, marked by their relevance and contemporary commentary, serve as a dynamic bridge between traditional artistry and modern communication. Through this digital platform, Steve not only entertains but also sparks conversations, provoking thought and reflection on the societal issues that he so cleverly portrays.

By successfully marrying his artistic skills with a sharp sense of humor and digital dexterity, Steve Bonello has carved out a unique niche in the artistic landscape. His ability to traverse diverse mediums and engage with a substantial online audience not only speaks to his adaptability but also underscores the power of art in fostering dialogue and reflection within society. In essence, Steve’s artistic journey is a vibrant testament to the evolving role of the artist in the digital age – a storyteller, commentator, and catalyst for meaningful conversations.

Conclusion

In concluding this assignment, wherein the primary focus has been to provide a comprehensive insight into the September 2023 Seminar, I also wish to utilize this paper as a strategic instrument to articulate and advocate for the enhancement of not only the Seminar but also the subsequent Workshop Weeks and residencies that ensue.

My ambition for this discourse is merely to proactively contribute to the evolution of these academic endeavors by offering a nuanced and personalized perspective on potential avenues for improvement.

In this regard, and with the help of this assignment, I was able to scrutinize the Seminar from various angles, identifying areas of strength and potential areas of refinement. Through an amalgamation of critical analysis and constructive suggestions, the Seminar could be propelled towards greater achievements, thereby influencing the overarching educational experience by also extending my insight beyond the immediate confines of the Seminar and encompassing the Workshop Weeks and residencies that serve as integral components of the holistic PMP_NAT journey.

In essence, this conclusion serves as a clarion call for proactive engagement and thoughtful consideration of innovative strategies to elevate not only the September 2023 Seminar but the entire spectrum of educational experiences that follow.

Back in May 2023, the resonating call of “Professional media Presence” captivated my aspirations, prompting me to eagerly submit my application. From the outset, this endeavor aligned seamlessly with my long-standing desire to cultivate a decent presence in the realm of media. In meticulous detail, my application and subsequent motivational letter underscored my ambitious vision which I harbored for my professional trajectory. The linchpin of this vision rested on mastering the intricacies of social media platforms, website creation and venturing into the dynamic world of YouTube.

Entering the Seminar with unwavering confidence, I envisioned it as a pivotal stepping stone toward the realization of my media-centric goals. While cognizant that the Seminar did not delve deeply into the specific facets I yearned to perfect – social media platforms, website creation and YouTube – it nevertheless provided invaluable insights, laying a solid foundation for my journey. Despite the slight deviation from my anticipated focus, the Seminar presented a mosaic of perspectives, enriching my understanding and propelling me closer to my ultimate goal.

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Accessibility online – Equal rights to digital media

Angela Brettoni
Residency artist on Venice, spring 2024

– from the second Professional Media Presence webinar on Me, Myself and AI. An online media and inclusive digital storytelling hosted by Perypezye Urbane 2024

Hello, my name is Angela Bettoni, and I am part of the Malta National Artist Team of the Professional Media Presence (PMP) project. I have Down Syndrome. I was very happy to hear about this project through Prisms, Malta, and be selected to be part of it. This year I was one of the resident artists with Perypezye Urbane and I will be co-writing this chapter on digital accessibility.

Figure 1. Angela. Photo credit – Eric Montebello

What I have seen in Malta is that there isn’t enough of awareness of accessible digital media that is out there as such and very few places are doing this. This is because integrated access as a whole is still very new. There have been some people who are beginning to do this. Later on in this chapter I have talked to two of the artists who were collaborating on an inclusive music video project called Ale’s project. As there isn’t very much of this happening in Malta at the moment it is important to note that this is something that we are beginning to move towards within the inclusive arts scene which is emerging in the island. I do hope to see more experimental approaches in the future and to make the Maltese inclusive arts scene even more enriching where everyone can find a place where they can use digital media to represent themselves in the way that they want to represent to themselves.

Opportunities Professional Media Presence has given me as a young artist with Down syndrome

1. Going abroad on my very first workshop week to Turku, Finland in October 2023

Highlights:

• Visiting a country that I have never been to.
• Second time being abroad alone without my parents and any support assistant.
• Living with other Maltese artists in an apartment.
• Being exposed to other international professional artists.
• Discussing, exchanging ideas, and taking part in workshops and activities.
• Sharing my story – on the last day of the workshop, I got to talk to all the artists and organisers from the different countries about my work and my experiences as a young artist with Down Syndrome.
• Doing my very first Instagram takeover with the Italian artists from RI-INVIO 404
• Making friends with the Maltese artists, Italian artists and their organisers from Perypezye Urbane
• Experiencing and exploring Turku and soaking up the Finnish culture.
• Making reels with the new skills learnt where I include music and special effects that Instagram has to offer.
• Learning how to improve my digital presence on Instagram. Now I have over 1,083 followers!
• Doing a PMP podcast ” From Malta to Turku: Building artistic bridges’’ after coming back from the workshop.

Figure 2. A group of friends all gathered together for a photo.

Figure 3. Me, Angela Bettoni & Gabriel Lia.

2. Going abroad on my second workshop week to Venice, Italy in April 2024

Highlights:

• Going with some of the same Maltese group artists who were there in Turku as well as my friend Hannah Micallef, who also has Down Syndrome.
  • Meeting familiar faces from the first workshop week in Turku.
  • Making friends with new artists.
  • Discussing, exchanging ideas, and taking part in workshops and activities.
  • Collaborating with a group of international artists who were all performers and activists where we each did public performances in the streets of Venice.
  • Getting to dance in Piazza San Marco in Venice!
  • Experiencing and exploring Venice and soaking up the Italian culture.

Figure 4. A group of friends in Venice.

Figure 5. Sunny day.

3. My very first artist residency with Perypezye Urbane in June 2024 for two weeks

I was selected to be an artist in residence with Perypezye Urbane in Venice as part of the PMP project. I did my residency in June 2024 where I developed a mixed-ability contemporary dance performance with Niels Plotard, who is a professional nondisabled male dancer and with Rachel Calleja, an inclusive choreographer, who both live in Malta. This performance was inspired by monologues I had written based on my experiences as a young artist with Down Syndrome.

Highlights:

• Sharing an apartment with my choreographer and dancer for two weeks in Venezia Mestre. This is the first time I had ever lived with two other young people!
• Learning very valuable independent living skills.
• I was supported, encouraged and empowered by my team that I was living with which really helped to boost my self-confidence in living independently.
• Exploring and developing the piece with Giovanni (who is our dramaturg,) Niels and Rachel.

Below you can find the links to the interview and blog post that I did on my residency, which you can find on the Professional Media Presence website.

Figure 6.

Figure 7.

“I want to say a thank you to Perypezye Urbane, Prisms Malta and Professional Media Presence for this opportunity of a lifetime and for a creating a platform where I am truly seen and represented” – Quote from Angela Bettoni (Professional Media Presence National Artist Team Malta)

“Thank you, Professional Media Presence, for giving me a platform where I can be seen, heard, valued and represented. This is what it means of true inclusion in arts and culture” – Quote from Angela Bettoni (Professional Media Presence National Artist Team Malta)

What can be done to make it easier for us to enjoy the same right as everybody else to digital media?

There are many types of learning disabilities which means that each person has different access needs that need to be accommodated and taken into consideration to make sure that they are each able to use digital media.

Here are a few steps we can take:

1. Avoiding anything that can overwhelm us.
2. Making sure that we can understand and be included.
3. Learning how to use technology that can help us, like having captions read aloud

Here are a few steps content creators can take, when possible:

• Making digital platforms more accessible.
• Writing everything with bigger fronts.
• Making sure that there are audio descriptions to everything.
• Having more pictures than text
• Making sure that everything is in high contrast.
• Having a voiceover.

1. Having a sign language video if possible.
2. Having subtitles so we can follow what’s being said.
3. Putting captions that can be read out loud so we can understand what’s being said.

Making use of Pecha Kucha Presentations

If you struggle to give PowerPoint presentations there is something easier for you to do! You can make a Pecha Kucha Presentation! All you have to do is to put your photos or pictures into it and the slides will move forward on their own with a set time.

Pecha Kucha helps us because:

• There is little or no text, mainly pictures.
• Complicated ideas are broken down into small chunks of information, each one accompanied by a photo or image. This makes it easier to understand.
• We can record the talk, and play it with the slides moving on their own.

Here are some tips for making a Pecha Kucha presentation

• Be creative!
  • Be original.
  • It’s always good to speak from the heart in whatever way you like.
  • You can even record yourself giving the presentation if that makes you feel more comfortable instead of talking to a room full of people you don’t know.
  • Don’t forget to share your presentation around. It might be useful for somebody else to have it!
  • All of this can help you to express yourself and share your stories through your art.

Examples of artists who use digital media in their work who I find inspiring

Marcelo Doño

In January 2024, PMP held a webinar called ‘Me, Myself and AI: Digital narratives and the world-making in the arts.’ A lot of interesting people made presentations. One of them was Marcelo Doño, an Italian choreographer and dancer. He is part of the Italian National Artist team from Perypeze Urbane.

This is Marcelo

Figure 8. This is Marcello. Photo credit – Tanja Hall

Marcelo is a multidisciplinary artist who works with dance and digital media. Through his work he explores questions of identity, body and his own lived experiences through hybrid performances. He uses technology to find new ways of using the body as a tool to tell a story to imagine new futures. In the webinar Marcelo talked about how dance and the use of digital technology can work together.

Here is what I learnt from listening to Marcelo talk on the online webinar:

• The mix of the digital body and live body on stage.
• The body in the digital era: A choreographic approach to the hyper extended self.
• New form of intimacy with digital body.
• Fragmentation.
• The era of attention.

• How to use livestream or augmented cameras in a live dance performance which can be done through beamers and old phones.
• Artificial intelligence can be a problem for cultural stereotypes.
• Making the experience a truly immersive one where it can be easily accessed by everyone.

I was very happy to find out that Marcelo was also taking part in the workshop week in Venice in April 2024, and I also got the chance to work with him on an activism project with other international artists who were there, where we used performance and video in the public spaces in the old city of Venice.

Here is the Question-and-Answer session that I had with Marcelo:

What made you interested in combining digital media with dance?

I was very interested and I am still very interested since 2019 to work with digital media and dance because dance is my medium of expression and art. Digital media was something that was changing and permeating my vision of reality through social media and gay dating websites which are very dominant in queer culture, so I felt the necessity and the thrive to deconstruct what was happening to me and around me to understand it and voice my findings slash perspective.

Your dance performances capture a lot of relevant themes like the body and identity. How do you manage to use digital media to capture all of these in your live performances?

My work deals a lot with the body, the self and identity in the digital era and that’s why my work bases itself a lot on digital technologies that are accessible for everybody and how that shapes our perception of self and conditions our body in relation to its usage. Like McLuhan said, the medium is the message, so everything that we engage with in our everyday, in our reality, what we call reality shapes our perception, so it’s a feedback loop of us shaping tools for our lives and those tools shaping us back. Well, I like to work a lot with research and theoretical work, for example, our concentration span is 9.25 seconds or was now with TikTok is 8 seconds so I like to create scores, musical scores or choreographic scores that use that metric to symbolize our constant need for a switch Consequently, I also like to work a lot with fragmentation to take the aesthetics of digital media platforms such as the video, the selfie, the half torso, the restrained kinetic capabilities, the frontal, the gaze. So there’s many, many mediums or many, many tools and strategies we can resignify the medium so through also a philosophical current that I find very connected to which is metamodernism there’s an empowerment and a shift of balance between being controlled by something and to be active in this process of change to reshape those tools to our benefit .

Would you be interested in doing an inclusive dance performance with performers with learning disabilities? If yes, why?

I would be very interested to work in the future with people with different abilities or disabilities I have never done such work before so I would be very curious to hear from different experiences. My work is up to now very based on personal experience and biography to take bigger topics that are very present in society and I say my opinion and not in a direct way and present a canvas for people to reflect on their own opinion and the perception and biography and reality of people with disabilities on social, on digital technologies and social media platforms is one that I’m not very accustomed to so I would be super interested to make that experience in the future and to exchange knowledge.

How important is intersectionality to your work?

Intersectionality in my work is very important because we are all made of different identities and I like to work with multiplicity of self and not reduction of self, such as myself, I can say I’m queer, I’m brown, I’m Latino, I’m Jewish, third generation, I’m atheist I have many, many parts of myself that coexist, I’m a dancer as well, I’m an artist that shapes us and this way  working, of integrating different perspectives I think makes the work much richer, much more reflected and also inclusive to different people because if we have just one self we exclude many parts of ourselves but also the problematics are very intersectional so we have to look at it from different perspectives.

How do you use the work you are doing to bring about social change?

My work creates social change but it’s not the main, I don’t do work to create social change but to allow change to happen so it’s not a direct punch in your face, for me I like to create spaces of reflection and to allow people to reflect on their own experience through my art and through my work how we engage with the society through a hyper-mediated communication and I like to always put criticism but also ambiguity in my work to not tell people what to think but to encourage and empower people to make their  own  conclusions even if they’re not the same ones as mine but then we can open a discussion as to have them being passive consumers of performance or art and delivering them what they should think or what they think I think they should do so I much rather play with ambiguity and reflection that makes a more active participant within the experience that I’m proposing and mobilising people.

As part of the PMP workshop week in Venice, the theme our team developed was called Dissident Bodies. How do you think Dissident Bodies can be further developed using integrated access?

You’re calling to the little work we created called Dissident Bodies which I found very inspiring and very nice I still love the title and our constellation, I am not knowledgeable enough to dive into the concept of integrated access so I wouldn’t be able to answer that question but I’ll be very happy to discuss it in the future together and to hear more about it because I’m sure you could inform me much more about the resources that are behind this.

Alessia Bonnici

Alessia Bonnici, a 19-year-old Maltese girl with autism, is a professional pianist. Alessia has performed locally and abroad in prestigious and acclaimed concerts. During the Covid lockdown, Alessia also featured in a short film called Dreaming on Ilia Chkolnik’s Piano Concerto No 1.

This is Alessia

Figure 9. This is Alessia.

I am going to be talking to Alessia on her experience of Ale’s Project and how it was like working on such a project that includes film, sound and movement.

Here is the Question-and-Answer session I had with Alessia

How was it like to work on Ale’s project? Was it the first time that you got to work on a project that was all about you?

Ale’s project was an amazing experience overall. No, this was my second project about me. First being Music Speaks in 2018.

How was it like to work and collaborate with professional artists on Ale’s project?

Working with other artists in the field widened my horizons and stretched me as a person. Also, my autism keeps me from connecting with people in a mainstream way. When I engage with music however, for me it becomes easier to connect.

Can you tell me how was it like to share your music with other people you were working with on your team?

My team was carefully selected by one of my mentors. Each of them were open to support me and adjust their work according to my needs. Ale’s project required my involvement in music making but it also included movement, set design, costume design and this required lots of decision making together which was fun.

How was it like trying new things? What were the new things that you learnt?

New things bring challenges to me. But with such a sensitive team that broke down tasks and allowed enough time for learning to occur I feel that the learning experience was positive. The things I learnt the most were in relation to lights and movement. I also enjoyed preparing some of the props for the set with our set designer.

If you had the chance, would you like to do it again?

Yes, I would love to do it again

Do you sometimes watch the Ale’s project film? Which parts do you like the most?

I think I liked it best when we did the recording. My friends were there to dance with me and it was a special moment for all involved to be together in his wonderful space. I don’t really watch the video, my mother sometimes shows it to me when she’s working on presentations in relation to this work. She always uses the third movement of the music video where the energy levels are high and I show a lot of excitement.

Niels Plotard

Niels Plotard is a French dancer who is based in Malta. Niels was in the first cohort of the Malta National Dance Company (ŻfinMalta – National Dance Company (zfinmalta.org). Niels is also a multidisciplinary artist who works in sound, audiovisuals and films. He is interested in exploring movement within physical, visual, and sonic worlds. Niels was my dance partner for the mixed-ability work that was developed during my artist residency in Venice. He was also the Artistic Director for Ale’s Project.

This is Niels

Figure 10. Photo credit – Lisa Attard

I spoke with Niels about his experience working with digital media in live performances and why digital media is important to the work that he does.

Here is the Question-and-Answer session that I had with Niels:

When did you start working with sound, film and audiovisuals? What led to your interest?

I started working with sound, film and audiovisuals at kind of different times. But I think sound wise, I started exploring sound design when making the soundtracks for originally some dance work that I was choreographing and making as a dancer while studying. And I also, during those studies in Geneva, I experimented with film with a friend of mine, and same with it. It was mainly around dance, and we were kind of exploring making films with some kind of narratives and again, choreography. It was very experimental, but we did a few things. And audiovisual, I usually, I mean for me, I use this term in relation to my technical work and to the work that I do for others in relation to video part of performance or everything that’s sound, audio and video for exhibitions and that was I would say later maybe seven years ago when I started working as a technician and a creative artist for other people’s work which then was not any more just dance, it was also theatre, it was also visual arts and again I’ve done really a range of things there. But I think in terms of interest, everything that is there is something and again I’ve done really a range of things there. But there is something about the technical aspects of these things that really draw me in and I like to look up and read about sound and everything that has to do with our perception of life and creating environments that can be both visual and auditory and sometimes experiential.

When did you start to realise that audiovisuals can work together in live performances? Can you tell me more about this?

I think I was always aware of that possibility because when I was young, I used to see dance performances and there was already some play with, I mean, music was always a part of it. Now, audiovisuals, I had seen, you know, work with projections and sometimes with kind of more specific live elements, video, live elements on stage or, I mean, I kind of knew because of seeing other people’s work that, you know, this was a possibility. And I think because of my training as a dancer and my interest in the technical aspects of the arts, I was always drawn to sometimes convey certain ideas through technology and I still think it is very interesting sometimes to explore things, again, with technology and sometimes I think we all find.

Are you interested in continuing to create work where everyone can find a place that they can relate and connect to?

I think for me that’s the basis of the kind of work that I am interested in and I want to engage in. I love very technical work. Sometimes very technical work, very high-quality production. I don’t know if quality is the right word, but I think what I’m deeply interested in is more like the relationship between the people who are working together and also a sense of love between everyone and in a sense I feel that’s the basis for feeling like we can relate and connect to each other and so I’m definitely interested by this and very often kind of things focused on this actually, rather than on other things.

What have your experiences been in working on creative projects with artists with disabilities? How do you think digital media can help in such projects?

My experiences have mainly been with you, Angela and Alessia. I also had a few experiences with groups of people with disabilities before but this was usually very short experiences and I can, I couldn’t say that I really felt like we worked on it more like we shared maybe we had a workshop or together we participated in in some kind of workshop together. But I mean my experience has been extremely positive in the sense that I feel that maybe for me, when working with people with disabilities, I feel we, there is more care about needs and about, there’s more conversation around needs and around how we are, how we speak, there is more attention put into and more curiosity in the way we speak to each other, the language we use. There is maybe less expectations of how things should be you know where sometimes I think I have heard this a lot as a dancer working with certain people in my past of you know that this is how it should be. And obviously it’s never how it should be. Nothing should be in any way, but in something that everyone feels good and included. So, I think that’s really the thing that comes up for me of, you know, making an effort and creating a space where we can relate to each other. And I feel that with both with you and with Alessia, we really, we really did that and that made a very big difference. And I think it creates a deeper connection as well. I am not sure how that can help in a sense I feel digital media are just another tool for expression I would not see particularly on how it will help in these projects in particular can help but more in general that you know digital media can help sharing a process by making videos can help communicating certain things that were pre-recorded and then shared with an audience in the form of audio recordings or again video recordings and then they can also be instruments to play with on stage. So, depending on what emerges in the creative process, then they can also, for example, for the film of Alessia’s, I think being able to create a safe space to film might have also really allowed her to express herself in ways which she wouldn’t have been able to with a big audience.

How did you bring in your work as a multidisciplinary artist into Ale’s Project?

In that project I was involved as a co-director and as a camera operator, kind of director of photography, although this term can be a bit much on a project like this, but I was, you know, deciding how we would be filming and how, what kind of movement and lenses and scenes we wanted to create and discussing this with the team and I also did all the editing and I’d like to work on editing as a creative endeavour in a way. I like to go a little bit with like working with overlap of images and really play with certain effects that I like to craft so that’s a way that I like to explore this tool, this instrument again, editing of the camera. I also participated again as a director in deciding how, you know, we would create a space for all of us to express ourselves, for Alessia to express herself, to feel safe. And all the preparatory work of understanding, you know, how her visual world and how we should communicate things so yeah, I did a bit of everything on this production.

What were the approaches you took when you were working on Ale’s project?

I think they really stemmed from conversations mainly, I would say with her mum and her coach. In the sense that at first, we weren’t talking a lot together with Alessia. She wasn’t speaking much, she wasn’t using words much, it took a bit of time to communicate with each other we tuned into each other in different ways than through words. But at first, you know, we had certain things to establish and she also had sessions, movement sessions with, two different movement, coaches. And they were filmed. And so we were able to watch the videos and to discuss what, you know, we were seeing and feeling from the work that was unfolding. And it was very much a process of listening and remaining open to listen to everything that was being said in many ways through the body, through the ideas and desires that were expressed through her body, through her language, physical language, through the people that knew her and lived close to her and the team that we had created to do that. So it was very organic in a way.

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Afterword

Panu Pohjola, Content manager, Lapland UAS
February 2026, Panu Pohjola

The five components of the Professional Media Presence project examined media from an artistic perspective, covering the full scope in which it was understood at the time of planning. The themes were

1. Media and Art
2. Online Media and Digital Storytelling
3. Social Media and Media Readership
4. Future Media
5. Media and Identity

It was noteworthy that, throughout the entire project, the greatest interest among the supported artists emerged from theme 3 onwards. This was the case even though television remains the primary medium for visibility in all the countries involved in the project. The pathway to television appearances is shaped by social- and online media, radio, and print media. Along the way, artists progress by generating interest and building networks with journalists.

However, visibility does not always guarantee income for an artist, although it may lead to work opportunities. In the discussions, social media networks were considered a more agile and effective route for this. ‘If you are visible, you are remembered when something is being set in motion,’ as Nika Rukavina said in one of our conversations while producing the project’s podcasts.

Art and the artist compete for attention, at least on behalf of the artwork itself. Contemporary art exhibitions increasingly resemble events rather than traditional gallery displays. Regardless of the artistic discipline from which one approaches it, the result often moves towards media art. Digital environments and emerging online media are particularly appealing to younger artists, both as a means of creating art and as a site in which artistic practice can take place. Their own identities, as well as those of their audiences and communities, are situated online, often to such an extent that one’s online identity is perceived as part of one’s physical self.

These two developments appear to be steering new media art towards a more holistic and immersive virtual experience within online and live environments.

The online environment also constitutes a significant arena of influence. Public awareness of commercial influence has been evident since Google and Meta established revenue models based on highly targeted advertising. Social media is not a neutral or freely accessible resource; in practice, it is controlled by two major global actors. Awareness of state driven, political, and ideological influence increased markedly following the United States presidential elections. A key mechanism in such influence operations is the deliberate intensification of polarization, that is, the erosion of social cohesion and, in some instances, the amplification of hate speech.

These dynamics have prompted some artists to withdraw from online platforms, expressing strong reservations about their use. Over the course of the project, however, attitudes shifted towards a more neutral position. As Piia Lieste observed during the Venice workshop, “I now regard social media as part of my work.” This raises further questions that each artist must confront: are those who produce critical or challenging observations being intentionally pushed out of online spaces? Where is the artist’s audience located? Where do the phenomena one seeks to influence actually unfold? And to what extent are we prepared to concede ground to algorithms, external influence, and processes of polarisation?

Influencing public discourse through art in online environments can be a highly compelling mode of artistic practice, as numerous articles demonstrate. In their contributions, Ines Borovac, Alexandra Stroganova, Eleonora Serpente, Roberta Di Serio, and Raffaella Menchetti present approaches to online artistic influence grounded in a strong sense of identity, a solid academic foundation, and a clearly articulated artistic vision. Undertaking such work presupposes a considerable degree of self‑reflection: establishing one’s artistic and personal identity appears essential before entering the algorithmic and data‑driven landscape of the digital sphere. This process also constitutes a form of identity work that may generate friction and does not necessarily leave the artist unchanged, as Kati Koivunen’s article likewise suggests.

The academic sphere appears to offer many artists a viable means of livelihood, a tendency reflected in the texts included in this toolkit. Artists frequently pursue parallel careers as researchers. It remains an open question how this development will shape artistic practice in the future.

Artificial intelligence has emerged and evidently remains, as a significant technological force, particularly now that its funding challenges have been addressed through state‑level investment in countries such as China, Russia, and the United States. In Europe, too, there is increasing demand for European alternatives to many dominant online technologies, and some of these are already operational.

Concerns regarding the ethical and copyright implications of artificial intelligence appear to be voiced most strongly by those whose artistic practice, in my interpretation, does not rely on fully unique expression but instead operates within established genres, often in digital form. As Tianjun Li notes in her article, whether the medium is photography, video, digital art, game art, or a related form, artificial intelligence enables the production of genre‑typical images and sounds by anyone capable of writing a prompt. What AI cannot replicate is the conceptual thinking, the blending of media and tools, and the singularity of vision that only a skilled artist can achieve. Mastery of the digital palette will undoubtedly become a challenge that art education must address with increasing seriousness.

Unless, of course, one chooses to turn away from the phenomenon entirely and return to pre‑electrical techniques, or, alternatively, to reach towards a post‑AI future, as Ivana Tkalčić proposes.

The consumption of electricity and water, as well as carbon and digital footprints, are issues that artists, too, can no longer overlook. A substantial proportion, often even the majority, of an individual’s carbon footprint now stems from online activity. Yet it is the operations of societies and their services, together with media, entertainment, and market‑driven platforms, that account for the largest and most rapidly expanding share of this burden. Within such a landscape, is there not still room for a small, deliberate dissenting voice, a subtle disruption within the mass, namely, art?

Attention to others, particularly to voices even smaller than those of the arts—also emerges within this collection of writings, most notably through the contribution of Angela Brettoni.

During the course of the project, public funding for artists has been reduced across all participating organisations, largely as a consequence of increased defence expenditure. I find myself reflecting, much like Winston Churchill, that if European culture is lost, what then are we fighting for? In my view, it is precisely in times such as these that artists should work in support of the European community and use the transformative capacities of art and methods of regenerative art to give voice to smaller groups within the larger whole. The potential for this to engage audiences and generate income seems evident—whether one chooses to call it a performance, an exhibition, new media art, or a tourism service. For an artist’s career, international experience has been essential ever since making art was still considered a craft. As Luca Cacini advises in his article, there are several ways to gain this experience with support from the European Union. It’s well worth taking advantage of these opportunities, also from the perspective of securing grants.

From the outset, my role as compiler of this collection of writings led me to work closely with the project’s resident artists, for whom these texts formed an integral part of their assignment. This collaboration has been both an honour and a profound learning process. In order to fully grasp the breadth and depth of the high‑quality material the artists produced, I found myself reading philosophy, sociology, social theory, feminism, new media studies, marketing, and more drawing on the extensive and sophisticated source material they shared. I would recommend this intellectual journey to other readers as well.

Four years of collaboration with the project’s wider team has also reshaped my own sense of identity, shifting it from Finnish to European. We are, in fact, remarkably similar, and we understand one another’s language, despite the words sounding different when spoken.

My sincere thanks go to the Creative Europe organisation; Turku University of Applied Sciences in Finland; Perypezye Urbane in Italy; Prisms Malta; Youth for Equality in Slovakia; Culture Hub Croatia; Espronceda in Spain; Lapland University of Applied Sciences in Finland; and to the many dozens of European artists who, together, have made this project possible and brought it into being.

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