This is the space where artistic practice, research, and facilitation meet.

Sound is not treated as a separate output in my work, but as a method for learning, ecological critique, and the design of experiential and transformational learning processes.


My work explores how ecological and social systems are learned through experience rather than transmitted as information.

It is grounded in experiential and transformational pedagogies, where learning emerges through perception, attention, embodied engagement, and situated encounter.

Within this perspective, sustainability is not only a set of concepts or frameworks, but something that becomes meaningful through sensing, doing, reflecting, and reorienting one’s relationship to environment and others.

Learning, in this sense, is not the transfer of knowledge but a shift in perception and orientation.

At the core of this practice is a question:

How can we design learning experiences that allow ecological awareness to be felt, questioned, and reconfigured through lived experience?


Sound is the primary medium through which I develop this work. Drawing on ecopsychology and ecoacoustics, listening becomes a way of accessing distributed and non-verbal forms of memory and awareness—demonstrating how environmental relations are felt, remembered, and reconfigured even beyond conscious cognition

I use field recordings, sound composition, and listening-based methods to engage environments as dynamic systems of relation rather than static representations.

Within sound arts, listening becomes both a research method and an educational practice—one that enables forms of ecological understanding that are not accessible through purely analytical approaches.

Working with multi-channel and surround sound setups is central to this process. By distributing field recordings and tape-based material across multiple points in space, sound becomes spatial and relational rather than linear. Perception becomes unstable and situated: there is no single source to interpret, but shifting zones of attention, proximity, and overlap. This produces an experience of distributed presence, where the listener is placed inside a system that cannot be fully grasped from any single position. In this condition, ecological and mnemonic processes are experienced as fragmented, contingent, and continuously reconfigured through movement and listening.

Listening, in this context, reveals:

  • thresholds of perception (what is normally unnoticed)
  • hierarchies of attention (what dominates awareness)
  • conditions of disappearance (what is no longer present)

It also raises questions such as:

How does power operate through attention?

Who gets to be heard in a soundscape?

What sounds dominate, and why?

What is silenced or masked?


Memory is central to both my research and artistic practice.

I understand memory not as a fixed archive of the past, but as an active, relational, and ecological process shaped by place, repetition, and affect.

Through sound, memory becomes tangible as something continuously reactivated and transformed.

It links personal experience, collective history, and environmental change in layered and unstable ways.


I am also interested in how sound reveals systems—not as models or diagrams, but as experiential fields of relation.

Through listening, participants begin to perceive how ecological, social, and cultural systems are entangled.

This shifts attention from isolated problems toward interdependent processes.

It supports a form of ecological critique grounded in experience: one that asks how systems are perceived, narrated, and made intelligible in the first place.


I am also interested in how sound reveals systems—not as models or diagrams, but as experiential fields of relation.

Through listening, participants begin to perceive how ecological, social, and cultural systems are entangled.

This shifts attention from isolated problems toward interdependent processes.

It supports a form of ecological critique grounded in experience: one that asks how systems are perceived, narrated, and made intelligible in the first place.


My current work develops sound pieces using magnetic tape containing prepared field recordings.

Through cutting, layering, slowing, and reassembling tape, recorded environments are transformed into unstable sonic archives.

Magnetic tape here functions as a medium of experiential memory.

Field recordings—initially traces of specific environments—are reworked into shifting sonic forms that resist fixed interpretation.

Memory becomes active rather than archival: continuously reshaped through material intervention, listening, and time.

This work engages questions of the Anthropocene, particularly how ecological experience is mediated, fragmented, and transformed through technological and cultural processes.

It asks how sustainability might be understood not only as a conceptual or political challenge, but as an experiential condition shaped by sound, memory, and affect.

Importantly, this research is inseparable from my facilitation practice.

The same principles that guide the manipulation of tape—layering, fragmentation, resonance, and temporal distortion—inform how I design experiential learning environments.

In this sense, sound research and facilitation are not parallel practices, but a single integrated approach: one that uses sound arts to develop ecological critique, and uses facilitation to translate that critique into shared, embodied learning experiences.