Initiated as a curated collaboration, this trialogue traces the exchange of walking practices between three artists, Marta Branco Guerreiro, Katarzyna Laskowska and Elena Peytchinska, who individually created and performed walkshops during different parts of “The Lost-and-Found” symposium that took place between December 2023 and June 2024 in Lisbon, Warsaw and Riga. The first walkshop, enacted by Marta, happened in the gardens of the Gulbenkian Museum in Lisbon, while the remaining two were led by Katarzyna and Elena in June 2024 in Riga’s urban environment.
For the purpose of the trialogue, and based on the experiences during the symposium, Marta, Katarzyna and Elena decided to design three walkshops, the reenactments of which were to be exchanged between them. Each artist performed the walkshops of the other two colleagues in the context of their respective cities of residence: Lisbon (Portugal), Sierosław (Poland) and Vienna (Austria). Whereas Marta’s and Elena’s walkshop procedures approximated those performed during the symposium, Katarzyna developed a new walkshop scenario specifically designed for this collaboration. During the reenactments, the artists’ attention was particularly drawn to non-human agencies, encountered along or emerged through the walks. Applying different artistic methods and media—in accordance with each artist’s specific approach—and situated within the urban landscape of the different cities, the reenacted walkshops provided additional performative material, which in turn initiated the weaving of this transmedially articulated trialogue.
This essay is presented in two different parts: the first one interweaves a collective map of the walks and a poetic approach arising from the artists’ online dialogues during the summer of 2024, while the second explains the artists’ theoretical approach to walking, weaving and writing,
“The Lost–and–Found’ symposium (2023–24) proposed to find new ways of revising art stories in search of potential changes. The symposia happened in Lisbon (6–7 December 2023), Warsaw (21–23 March 2024) and Riga (6–7 June 2024). One of the possibilities for participating in one of the events was to submit a proposal for a walkshop, a situated practice that is both a walk and a workshop. The three authors of this essay answered the organisers’ call by each imagining a different action in the urban contexts of Lisbon (the first symposium in the series) and Riga (the final symposium). As a situated practice, the walks and the activities proposed were embedded in and interconnected with the location in which they took place.[7] The three authors presented three walkshops that were shaped by their distinct research interests and artistic practices.
The first walkshop was proposed by Marta in the Garden of Calouste Gulbenkian Museum in Lisbon. As an art historian and archivist, Marta has through her doctoral research been thinking and writing about processes of participation and the commons in museums and other cultural institutions. Her interest in poetry, non-formal academic writing and collective reading practices led her to “The Lost-and-Found” symposium. Among her texts are “Written in the sand: notes towards a participation archive” and “Museums: from accumulation to regeneration. Which place in ecology?”, both in Portuguese.[8]
Titled “To be a Poet in the Margins of the Museum”, Marta’s walkshop took the life and pulsations of the garden as a creative impetus to virtually and poetically interact with the collection of the museum. In the afternoon of 6 December 2023, approximately 20 participants walked in silence, made collective readings, wrote poetry and drew.
Katarzyna is an artist, designer and researcher using several mediums: textile photography, performance and drawing. Since 2008 she has been working on “Urban trees”, “a long-term project where she explores the interaction of the needs of nature with the needs of people.”[9] In her embroidery works, she embraces alternative forms of drawing and “writing” that could be seen in her latest exhibitions “Stories written with a needle” and “Landscape”.[10] During “The Lost-and-Found” symposium in Riga, Katarzyna presented Group Affiliation Shell, a performance in which eight women artists attending the symposium shared a single multi-person garment made of stitched-together linen pieces. The group walked from the ISSP gallery located in the Berga Bazars neighbourhood through several city blocks. The performance created a collective organism of eight heads and sixteen legs that had to coordinate their movements, through their communal decision-making exploring the themes of community, connection and shared experience.
Elena’s walkshop was also conducted during the third part of “The Lost-and-Found” symposium on the same day as Katharzyna’s in a park near the Art Academy of Latvia in Riga. The original walkshop score was slightly adapted for the purpose of this trialogue. In her work, Elena explores the entanglements of text, sound and space within the frameworks of performance, performance design and language-based artistic research. Her approach is informed by new materialisms,[11] digital materiality[12] and a contemporary revision of concrete poetry, particularly the spatialism of Ilse and Pierre Garnier.[13] A performative articulation of her work is expressed through spatial scores.[14] These scores act both as a framework for collaborative practice and as a protocol for the systematic exploration of aesthetic and theoretical questions that address the material entanglements of text and space.
Walking
The practice of walking was adopted and adapted for the walkshop as a way of interacting with the different places where “The Lost–and–Found” symposium took place. Since walking can be seen as a way to trace a line, to adapt to and feel the surroundings—textures, temperatures, humidity, sounds, architecture, nature, humans and non-humans—it is also a way of generating an embodied knowledge that is not fixed but that remains porous to the world.[15]
Walking is, of course, a concept and a practice with a long history of thinking behind it.[16] In her book Wanderlust: A History of Walking (2001), Rebecca Solnit quotes several authors and gives an analogy of walking and thinking[17]:
The rhythm of walking generates a kind of rhythm of thinking and the passage through a landscape echoes or stimulates the passage through a series of thoughts. This creates an odd consonance between internal and external passage, one that suggests that the mind is also a landscape of sorts and that walking is one way to traverse it. A new thought often seems like a feature of the landscape that was there all along. As though thinking were travelling rather than making. And so one aspect of the history of walking is the history of thinking made concrete – for the motions of the mind cannot be traced, but those of the feet can.[18]
Walking is also a way of connecting with others and of perceiving the world through other lenses and gives an analogy of walking and thinking.[19] To propose a walkshop for each of us meant to share a space, a movement, a practice, to become a body with other bodies and a multitude of beings in connection. We took as a starting point that walking has been an artistic practice to feel space otherwise, but we want to emphasise that it is also an ancestral and not human-specific practice. Bodies other-than-human walk too: dogs, elephants, ants, polar bears, as well as water, wind, clouds or roots of trees. We walk with each other and by walking we make worlds.
Weaving
For the purpose of this essay, weaving was employed as not only a method of literal textile production but also a metaphor for collaboration. Weaving relies on interlacing yarns or threads at right angles to form a fabric or cloth. As discussed by Catherine Dormor in her book A Philosophy of Textile (2020), processes of weaving are often used by thinkers, by Plato or Deleuze for example, to illustrate ideas.[20] Others, such as Roland Barthes argue that text is made generatively “in a perpetual interweaving”.[21] For the three of us, weaving signifies a way of interconnecting our three different practices, and through this, creating potentials to overlap different places (Lisbon and Riga) and processes of merging with landscapes and other-than-human beings. It is also a way to interweave different times, following Donna Haraway’s thinking on science fiction, where “looping threads and relays of patterning, this sf practice is a model for worlding. Sf must also mean ‘so far’, opening up what is yet-to-come in protean time’s, pasts, presents, and futures.”[22]
Weaving worked both in literal and metaphorical ways. After individually performing our three walkshops during “The Lost–and–Found” symposium, we developed them for the purpose of our subsequent collaboration presented in this essay. Instead of being in situ with the participants, we had to adapt the walkshops since the three of us were now in different places and didn’t know each other. We became more porous and sensible not only to the landscape in which the walks were performed but, we believe, also to other spaces, cities, museums, our libraries, gardens. The walks intensified our sensitivity to, and permeability with, the surroundings. The imaginary thread tracing the path of our walks (intertwined with our conversations and shared experiences) provided the rhythm that Marta wove into the fabric of her eight poetic fragments.
Writing
Weaving, creating a texture, making a text involves interconnecting not only yarns and threads but also strings, worlds and words—and here we draw on Haraway’s words, “string figuring is passing on and receiving, making and unmaking, picking up threads and dropping them. SF is practice and process; it is becoming-with each other in surprising relays; it is a figure for ongoingness in the Chthulucene.”[23]
Our collaborative writing process is intrinsic to our work. It didn’t come after, rather it was happening simultaneously; we were already writing while walking our walks and weaving together our practices and words. The process of writing was collective, we were always writing after the exercises we interchanged: after the instructions given by Elena in an audio file, after the map Katarzyna inspired us to draw, after the box with instructions sent by Marta. Both this text and the poems are a result of this practice of writing “after” which turned into writing “with”.[24] The writing is accompanied by the images of the map echoing our writing in the walks we have done and also in the way we approach writing as a visual and very personal device, which, unlike typewritten or Word documents, translates gestures, hesitations and rhythms and some believe also our personalities.[25]
Three Simultaneous Beginnings
Interlacing the practices of walking, writing, mapping and audio-recording, the trialogue weaves the multifaceted fabric of this collaboration. The following descriptions trace the development of the trialogue from the initial walkshops to the weaving of the diversely mediated and processed archival material.
Marta Branco Guerreiro: To be a Poet in the Margins of the Museum
Drawing on her experience at the Gulbenkian Museum in Lisbon, Marta proposed a walk through some spaces of the Gulbenkian Garden, envisioning new ways of entering the museum’s building beyond the conventional entrance points such as main doors.[26] By poetically applying the potential of the in-between-ness of (im)materialities and (not only human) figures such as water, ghosts and roots, the participants of “The Lost-and-Found” symposium were invited to imagine forms of interacting with the museum interior and its objects.[27] This (impossible) interaction was intended as a visionary fiction for a museum-to-be: a utopian landscape in which humans and objects could correspond to one another.[28]
For the translation of Marta’s initial walkshop into the trialogue “Walking, Weaving, Writing” embodied in this text, Marta prepared a set of tangible instructions, which she sent to Katarzyna and Elena by post (Fig. 11). The instructions included poetic questions such as “How to translate a map?” or “Is walking a way of forgetting?”, and practical exercises like an invitation to a collective reading of the letter sent from Ventura to Clotilde in Pedro Costa’s film Colossal Youth (2006).[29] They also included a proposal for writing an envelope poem such as those Emily Dickinson produced.[30] The exercises were “translated” from the Gulbenkian Garden into new everyday maps of Katarzyna’s and Elena’s sonic explorations, and were articulated through various materials, such as handwritten notes, different kinds of paper, tiny stones, plant pieces gathered from the museum site in Lisbon, and literary, theoretical and cinematic references.[31]
The materials were to be performed by the other two artists without a chronology and timeframe. The tactile instructions prepared by Marta emphasised the emotional impact of materials embedded not only in the environment of a specific geographic and architectonic site but also, and more importantly, on the site of written words, to foreground the materiality of writing. This emotional impact was to be transposed by Katarzyna and Elena into a similar architectural context in their respective cities. The process was facilitated by the instructions: Katarzyna and Elena, as the walkers, were invited to open the envelopes or scrolls with scores and to write envelope poems, infiltrate cultural institutions and imagine their alternative futures, draw the lines of their hands and write a poem in the form of these lines.

Katarzyna Laskowska: Walk at 6 am
Katarzyna’s drawing series presented a set of instructions, a visual scenario for Marta and Elena to stage a walk at a specific time (6 am) along a familiar trajectory that was part of their daily walking routine. The intention of the visual scenario was to create an emotional relationship between human and other-than-human agencies during a walk that is normally conducted with the sole purpose of accomplishing everyday tasks. Walking through familiar streets and places, Marta and Elena were prompted by the visual instructions (Fig. 12) of Katarzyna’s scenario to pay attention to their surroundings and discover new and surprising details, and to notice water sources and occurrences of urban nature. Through the filter of the early hour, very different from the rest of the day in regard to weather conditions and air quality, the walk at 6 am presented an opportunity for deep observation, reconfiguring the familiar and quotidian into a new speculative narrative. Each drawing of the visual scenario acted as a text: a set of stage directions dictating the procedure of the walk but allowing various medial and material possibilities for their reenactment.

Elena Peytchinska: Taking a Word for a Walk
The title of Elena’s walkshop alludes to Paul Klee’s famous description of drawing as taking a line for a walk.[32] By taking a word for a walk instead of a line, the walkshop experiments with words as malleable materials whose meanings can be transformed through the agencies of the walker’s body and the walking site.
Marta and Katarzyna were invited to select a word (an operative verb) from an architectural glossary of basic spatial operations and follow the walking score’s instructions, which unfolded in two parts: the first part was to take place inside a building, while the second proceeded as a walk along the prompts of an audio-guided spatial score.[33] Through this transition from interior to exterior, the walkers could explore how a word signifying spatial dynamics could be transformed through the agency of their bodies and walking pace. Taking into account the particular features and inhabitants of the walking site—the substance of the soil, urban infrastructure, weather conditions, plants, humans and “inhumans”[34]—the walkers were encouraged to further explore the word’s malleability by transposing its operative dynamic into their surroundings. Finally, while still sensing the semantic and material qualities of their chosen verb, Marta and Katarzyna were asked to observe “inhuman” agencies, form an imaginary friendship with one of them, and draw a map of the surroundings from their inhuman friend’s perspective.

Weaving a Trialogue
During the development of our trialogue, we regularly scheduled online meetings, sharing our experiences of the reenactments of each other’s walkshops. Gathering texts, drawings, audio recordings and photos, we created an archive, which acted as material for the further development of our collaboration. Each of us reacted to and engaged with the archival material differently, choosing a unique medial and disciplinary approach: Marta transposed the critical impact of our discussions into a poetic flow, drawing on Tim Ingold’s view that “[t]he theorist can be a poet.”[35] She further explored this poetic approach to theory by interweaving excerpts from two poems by Wisława Szymborska, “A Speech at the Lost-And-Found”[36] and “Map”, who also considered maps a medium for poetic expression.[37] Katarzyna created a cartographic notation by visually reenacting and quoting the archival material— drawings, texts, sounds—into a non-linear diagrammatic narrative. Referencing Kathy Acker’s cartographic writing in A Map of My Dreams (1977), Katarzyna developed an analytical method of interweaving our different practices, creating a map of the actual and potential relations between them.[38] Elena generated sound drawings by recording soundscapes in interior and exterior spaces while performing Marta’s and Katarzyna’s walks. In her approach, auditory environments were interpreted through drawing gestures and marks, transcribing sonic experiences into visual form. Informed by Pauline Oliveros’s “deep listening” methodology, these sound drawings emerged as a transmedia practice where sound becomes material for visual and gestural translation.[39] The recording device itself became a drawing tool—embodying what Salomé Voegelin describes as the three-fold corporeality of sound recording, “the technological body of the microphone, the recording body and the body recorded.”[40] These recordings were later translated into notations that traced the walk’s trajectory through its invisible features—sound, temperature and tactile qualities—applying Linda Knight’s concept of “inefficient mapping”.[41] Katarzyna then integrated the resulting notations into the fabric of her map, creating a multi-sensory cartographic document.
The material that emerged through our collaborative practice weaves this trialogue, embodying the encounter of our different ways of expressing ourselves theoretically and artistically. While the creative processes of writing and drawing appear as if homogeneous, they are, in fact, the result of several intertwined strings and correspondences between the three of us. Beginning with the initial walkshops enacted during the symposium and evolving through their further conceptualisation in our collective encounters, it became clear that our three distinct modes of artistic research are not isolated projects but interconnected parts of a shared practice. Our approaches interlace and belong to the same process of collaborative thinking and making, while also opening up possibilities for productive frictions.
The trialogue presented here is not merely a documentation of our walks or a theoretical framework for understanding them but a living testament to how collaborative artistic research can weave together practice and theory, individual and collective experience and human and other-than-human agencies. Through this understanding, we continue to trace and respond to the call of “The Lost-and-Found” and affirm the necessity of building new ways of approaching artistic practice and artistic research.
Footnotes
- Szymborska, Wisława. “A Speech at the Lost-And-Found”. In Poems New and Collected 1957–1997. New York: Harcourt Brace International. 1998. p. 127.↑
- After Szymborska, Wisława. “Map”. In Map: Collected and Last Poems. Boston: Mariner Books. 2016. p. 432.↑
- Ibid.↑
- Duchamp, Marcel. La Boîte–en–valise, 1936–1941. See https://www.centrepompidou.fr/fr/ressources/oeuvre/6KCGgV9 (accessed 2024-08-30).↑
- Szymborska, “A Speech at the Lost-And-Found”, p. 127↑
- Dickinson, Emily. Poemas Envelope. Lisbon: Edições do Saguão. 2021.↑
- We refer to Donna Haraway’s notion of “situated knowledges” arguing “for politics and epistemologies of location, positioning, and situating, where partiality and not universality is the condition of being heard to make rational knowledge claims.” See Haraway, Donna. “The Science Question in Feminism and the Privilege of Partial Perspective”. Feminist Studies. vol. 14. no 3, 1988, p. 588. ↑
- Guerreiro, Marta, “Escrito na areia: notas para um arquivo da participação”. MIDAS. no. 16. 2023. DOI: https://doi.org/10.4000/midas.3879; and Guerreiro, Marta. “Museus: Da acumulação à regeneração. Que Lugar Na Ecologia?”. MODOS: Revista De História Da Arte. vol. 7. no 1. February 2023. pp. 287–310. doi:10.20396/modos.v7i1.8670585. ↑
- Galeria Duża Scena, Poznan, Poland, November 2024. See https://arch.uap.edu.pl/2021/11/katarzyna-laskowska-sztuka-przetrwania-transformacja-pejzazu_drzewa-w-przestrzeni-miejskiej/ (accessed 2024-08-30). ↑
- The first took place at Atelier WYMAR, Poznan, Poland, June 2004. See https://tiny.pl/rq136snq (accessed 2025-01-23); for the second, see https://www.instagram.com/p/C8fUJEHKge_/?img_index=1 (accessed 2025-01-23). ↑
- In this context, several influences are at play. Jane Bennett’s vital materialism emphasises that matter—organic and inorganic—possesses agency, challenging traditional human-centric attributions. See Bennett, Jane. Vibrant Matter: A Political Ecology of Things. Durham, NC: Duke University Press. 2010. There is also Rosi Braidotti’s theoretical figuration of the “posthuman condition”. See Braidotti, Rosi. Posthuman Knowledge. Cambridge: Polity Press. 2019. Her ideas reframe human privilege as embedded within, rather than external to, world- and meaning- making processes. Karen Barad develops this further by reconceptualising language not as mere thought representation but as a performative, material-discursive practice in which matter and meaning are inherently entangled. See Barad, Karen. Meeting the Universe Halfway: Quantum Physics and the Entanglement of Matter and Meaning. Durham, NC: Duke University Press. 2007. ↑
- Digital materiality highlights the material foundations of digital technologies, from hardware and energy consumption to the socio-technical assemblages shaping digital environments. Emphasising the embodied and embedded nature of digital systems, N. Katherine Hayles situates these technologies within broader material and cognitive ecologies, aligning with new materialist perspectives on agency and relationality. See Hayles, N. Katherine. Unthought: The Power of the Cognitive Nonconscious. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2017. Moreover, earlier Hayles anticipated new materialist critiques of anthropocentrism by exploring the entanglements of humans and machines. See Hayles, N. Katherine. How We Became Posthuman: Virtual Bodies in Cybernetics, Literature, and Informatics. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1999. ↑
- Concrete poetry (also known as visual poetry), which emerged in the 1950s and 1960s, bridges the domains of literature and visual art. In this movement, text operates not only as a vehicle for meaning but also manifests the visual and material qualities of its production. Kenneth Goldsmith introduces the concept of “postdigital concretism” to reframe this tradition within the context of contemporary digital technologies. See Goldsmith, Kenneth. “Make It New: Post-Digital Concrete Poetry in the 21st Century”. In The New Concrete: Visual Poetry in the 21st Century. Ed. Victoria Bean and Chris McCabe. London: Hayward Publishing. 2015. pp. 9–15. Expanding upon visual poetry, the Garniers’s spatialism explores the material potential of language—particularly words—not just visually but acoustically, spatially and processually. See Garnier, Ilse and Garnier, Pierre. Poésie spatiale, une anthologie. Paris: Les presses du réel/Éditions Al Dante. 2012. ↑
- The practice of spatial scores merges contemporary performance score methodologies with a recontextualising of the Garniers’s spatialism. In this context, Elena’s approach draws on the work of artists and researchers such as Salomé Voegelin, emphasising a shift from visual to auditory perception to uncover hidden dimensions of space. See Voegelin, Salomé. Uncurating Sound: Knowledge with Voice and Hands. London: Bloomsbury Academic. 2023. Meanwhile, Emma Cocker and Danica Maier prioritise process over product, resisting closure in favour of ongoing exploration. See Cocker, Emma and Maier, Danica. eds. No Telos! Suffolk: Beam Editions. 2019. ↑
- Here, we address walking similar to how Paul Klee addressed drawing in his Pedagogical Sketchbook, a set of theoretical instructions for Bauhaus students, in which he writes: “An active line on a walk, moving freely, without goal. A walk for a walk’s sake.” See Klee, Paul. Pedagogical Sketchbook. New York: Frederick A. Praeger, 1972, p. 17. In his confessions, he praises movement as “the source of all change”, adding that “In the universe, too, movement is the basic datum.” See Klee, Paul. Creative Confession. London: Tate Publishing. 2013. p. 7. ↑
- Some examples include the David Henry Thoreau conference given in 1851, where he speaks of walking as “absolute freedom and wildness, as contrasted with a freedom and culture merely civil—to regard man as an inhabitant, or a part and parcel of Nature, rather than a member of society.” See Thoreau, Henry. “Walking”. 1851. Available at: https://www.thoreau-online.org/walking.html (accessed 2025-01-26). More recently, Frédéric Gros made an analogy between walking and poetry, stating that “[w]alking causes a repetitive, spontaneous poetry to rise naturally to the lips, words as simple as the sound of footsteps on the road.” See Gros, Frédéric. A Philosophy of Walking. London: Verso Books. 2014. p. 136. ↑
- Solnit begins her journey with “The page of thoughts” in which she quotes authors like Honoré Balzac, Virginia Woolf, Sigmund Freud, Samuel Becket and, among other sources, also Psalms and a traditional Gospel song. See Solnit, Rebecca. Wanderlust: The History of Walking. London: Penguin Books. 2001. ↑
- Ibid., p. 15. ↑
- The fact that the practice of walking is not an equal experience for everyone in terms of gender, bodily ability, ethnicity, to name just a few aspects, and is therefore inherently political, is the topic of a recently published anthology. See Jeffreys, Tom. ed. Walking. London and Cambridge, MA: Whitechapel Gallery and MIT Press. 2024. Another book explores walking as a method of research and creative practice, engaging with interdisciplinary approaches in order to understand its performative, ethical, and theoretical dimensions. See Springgay, Stephanie and Truman, Sarah E. Walking Methodologies in a More-than-Human World: WalkingLab. New York: Routledge. 2018. ↑
- Dormor, Catherine. A Philosophy of Textile: Between Practice and Theory. London: Bloomsbury. 2020. ↑
- Barthes, Roland. The Pleasure of the Text. New York: Hill and Wang. 1973. p. 64. ↑
- Haraway, Donna. “SF: Speculative Fabulation and String Figures”. Kassel: documenta and Museum Fridericianum. 2011. ↑
- For Haraway, SF is used for science facts, speculative fabulation, speculative feminism and string figures and “a method for tracing, of following a thread in the dark”. See Haraway, Donna. Staying with the Trouble: Making Kin in the Chthulucene. Durham, NC: Duke University Press. 2016. p. 3. Unlike Anthropocene and Capitalocene, which are centred in apocalyptic thinking “game over, too late”, the Chthulucene proposes a tentacular way of thinking where “[d]iverse human and nonhuman players are necessary in every fiber of the tissues”.’ See Haraway, Donna. “Tentacular Thinking: Anthropocene, Capitalocene, Chthulucene”. e-flux, no. 75. September 2016. Available at https://www.e-flux.com/journal/75/67125/tentacular-thinking-anthropocene-capitalocene-chthulucene/ (accessed 2024-01-26). Both the way of writing as a SF practice—tracing string figures between the three of us—and thinking with other more-than-human beings were present in our practices and trialogues. ↑
- We emphasise the word “after” similarly to the French use of “d’après” for works of art deeply inspired by other artists but still operating autonomously. This is to foreground that we are always working and weaving with each other’s “threads”. ↑
- Here, we return to Tim Ingold’s texts and his praise for handwriting catalysing embodied knowledges: “When we write by hand, we remember letters and words as movements, as gestures, not as shapes. Moreover, these gestures, which are both inspired by and carry forth our feelings, moods and motivations, translate directly and without interruption into the lines on the page. In this regard, the pen of the hand-writer is like the bow of the string-player: the writer’s line, like the player’s, is at once dynamic, rhythmic and melodic. And if it is by movement that the line is laid, so it is by movement, too, that we read it.” See Ingold, Tim. “Something about a word”. In Correspondences. Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen. 2017. p. 87. ↑
- This way of entering the museum, or affecting it from the outside, had as its starting point the story of a manuscript exhibited in “The Power of the Word—Divine Wisdom: The Sufi Way”, which took place at the Calouste Gulbenkian Museum, 2022–2023. More about the exhibition can be accessed via https://gulbenkian.pt/museu/en/agenda/power-of-the-word-iv/ (accessed 2025-01-26). This book, as well as other manuscripts and paintings, drawings and books had suffered from the floods that happened in 1967 in Lisbon. More recently—in fact, during the process of reviewing this text—the roots of a tree were damaging the storage of the Museum. If natural elements can alter the hermetic environment of the Museum, could we, humans, influence (or even infiltrate) it from the outside? ↑
- With the notion of “in-between-ness”, Ingold marks a contrast with “between-ness”, two modes of communication that relate to interaction and correspondence. “This shift from interaction to correspondence entails a fundamental reorientation, from the between-ness of beings and things to their in-between-ness.” [NB: our emphasis]. Ingold, Correspondences, p. 9. ↑
- “The truth is that in a more-than-human world, nothing exists in isolation. Humans may share this world with non-humans, but by the same token, stones share it with non-stones, trees with non-trees and mountains with non-mountains. […] Only when we appreciate things as their stories can we begin to correspond with them.” Ingold, Correspondences, pp. 6–7. ↑
- Ventura worked in the building of the Calouste Gulbenkian Museum and also made the base for the statue of Calouste Gulbenkian in the garden. The letter, written by Ventura but also with words by Robert Desnos and Pedro Costa, was read next to this statue in order to commemorate and pay homage to the invisible workers of cultural institutions. A version of the letter, translated in French, is available on YouTube, see https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Phrlnkq8goM (accessed 2025-01-26). ↑
- The Envelope Poems were among the latest compositions by Emily Dickinson in the 1870s and 1880s. See Dickinson, Emily. Poemas Envelope, Lisboa: Edições do Saguão. 2021. She wrote small poems on envelopes, adapting the format of the poem to the part of the envelope on which she chose to write, about which Ingold comments that using an envelope is also a way of making reference to the correspondence it contains. See Ingold, Correspondences. ↑
- The initial walk was transposed to the daily surroundings of Elena and Katarzyna using a path they took every day. ↑
- “Active line develops freely [and] goes out for a walk.” In Klee, Paul. Notebooks Volume 1: The Thinking Eye. London: Percy Lund Humphries & Co Ltd. 1961. p. 105. ↑
- Di Mari, Anthony and Yoo, Nora. Operative Design: A Catalogue of Spatial Verbs. Amsterdam: BIS Publishers. 2012. ↑
- In the context of this walkshop, the term “inhuman” evokes a complex texture, interweaving the simultaneous dynamics of interiority and exteriority, proximity and distance, strangeness and intimacy. This understanding resonates with Barad’s description of the inhuman as “an infinite intimacy that touches the very nature of touch, that which holds open the space of the liveliness of indeterminacies”. See Barad, Karen. “On Touching—The Inhuman That Therefore I Am. Version 1.1.” In Power of Material/Politics of Materiality. Ed. Susanne Witzgall and Kerstin Stakemeier. Zürich: diaphanes, 2014. pp. 153–64, quoted on p. 161. This observation aligns with Jeffrey Jerome Cohen’s interpretation, where he argues “I speak […] of the ‘inhuman’ to emphasise both difference (‘in-’ as a negating prefix) and intimacy (‘in-’ as a marker of estranged interiority).” See Cohen, Jeffrey Jerome. Stone: An Ecology of the Inhuman. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press. 2015. p. 10. ↑
- Ingold, Correspondences, p. 14. ↑
- Szymborska, “A Speech at the Lost-And-Found”, p. 127. ↑
- Szymborska, “Map”, p. 432. ↑
- Acker, Kathy. “A Map of My Dreams”. The Poetry Mailing List. 1977. Available at https://www.granarybooks.com/pages/books/2450/kathy-acker/a-map-of-my-dreams?soldItem=true (accessed 2024-08-30). Acker’s map presents an example of non-linear narrative, made of words, symbols, and spatial tracings. This writing technique—interweaving the effect of unprocessed feelings with the affect of alogical exploration—defies chronology and offers an access to the alternative reality of dreams. ↑
- Oliveros’s practice of “deep listening” focuses on heightened awareness of sound environments through conscious, embodied attention to the full spectrum of auditory experience. See Oliveros, Pauline. Deep Listening: A Composer’s Sound Practice. Bloomington: iUniverse. 2005. ↑
- Voegelin, Salomé. Sonic Possible Worlds. London: Bloomsbury. 2021. p. 314. ↑
- Knight, Linda. Inefficient Mapping: A Protocol for Attuning to Phenomena. Santa Barbara: Punctum Books. 2021. Knight presents an artistic method for subjectively interacting with and representing the surroundings, as well as their inhabitants and phenomena. Contrasting the effort for objectivity of traditional scientific mapping, the artist suggests “inefficiency” as a purposeless, yet personal and affective mode of interrelation with the environment. ↑