MYCELIUM
In the dismantled world of Covid-19, where sanity teetered on the edge of fear and loneliness, I sought solace in the unlikeliest of places—the bog.
There, amidst the soft, yielding ground of peat and the chorus of nature’s whispers, I found refuge from the suffocating grip of social anxiety. With its alien allure, the bog offered an escape from the sterile confines of urban life.
In a pandemic defined by germaphobia, I found beauty in the microbial world thriving around me. Among the wild ferns and the symphony of rustling leaves, I delved into the mysteries of fungi, letting the microscope reveal worlds within worlds.
While others turned to sourdough and Netflix, I became a devotee of the fungal kingdom, tracing mycelial pathways and uncovering the hidden stories of nature’s silent architects.
Enter the Twilight, a visual ode to the bog, became the overture to my journey. It painted the bog as a repository of history, a beacon of hope amidst the gloom, and a font of inspiration in the solitude of lockdown.
I became fascinated by the microbial world and its dual role as both the giver and taker of life. In some delusional way, it transformed into a religious motif for me during COVID-19—a symbol of hope in a dark and uncertain time.
As I fell deeper into my fascination with the microbial world, I began to develop mould on objects, researching how it inhabited space. I grew, cultivated, and experimented with a selection of grey oysters, pink oysters, and lion’s mane mushrooms.
As an artist, I could not always follow exact science, preferring instead to dance on the edges of imagination and alchemical practices. My purpose lay not in birthing novelty but in resurrecting forgotten wisdom, weaving it into the fabric of my creations. I researched scientific papers and amateur accounts of the importance of fungi in native cultures.
I embarked on a quest akin to an alchemist’s pursuit of turning lead into gold, attempting to mutate mushrooms into something more enduring and tangible. My first experiment led me to mix sawdust and fungal spores, creating a substance reminiscent of plastic—a material both foreign and familiar.
However, one April day, as sunlight danced upon my front lawn and the symphony of birdsong filled the air, I found myself asking: What melody does a mushroom sing?
Using Arduino software to create bio-synths, I began to generate soundscape compositions derived from the nuanced melodies of mushrooms. I embarked on a creative endeavour to evoke the essence of fungal ecosystems, and my explorations culminated in ambient noise compilations, each imbued with the ethereal harmonies of fungal life.
In conceptualising the migration patterns of fungi, I endeavoured to encapsulate their essence within auditory form. However, amidst this pursuit, a realisation dawned on me: fungi defied the generational repetitiveness inherent in avian flight. Instead, they emerged as fundamental denizens of our biosphere, comprising an ancient subterranean network poised to outlast the Anthropocene epoch. This realisation prompted a profound reevaluation of their significance as agents of ecological resilience, hinting at their pivotal role in shaping a new paradigm amidst the collapse of prevailing ontological frameworks.
Mycelium Trip was an animated exposition of my research and contemplative inquiries. It unfolded across three distinct segments, each delineating profound thematic explorations.
The initial segment portrayed an expansive tableau, elucidating the intricate mechanics underpinning fungal ecosystems. Here, the film explored the genesis of life and the symbiotic relationships that fostered growth within this verdant realm.
Transitioning into the second segment, the narrative contemplated the semblance of consciousness inherent in human cognition. It celebrated the sublime beauty encapsulated within our capacity for introspection, intimacy, and creative expression. Yet, a sombre undertone pervaded as humanity confronted the stark realisation of its diminutive place within the cosmic tapestry, precipitating a schism within consciousness: the bifurcation of ego and identity.
The film’s final act served as a poignant denouement, juxtaposing the humble origins of fungi with the impending twilight of human civilisation. As the clock of demise inched towards midnight, a titanic fungal entity emerged, casting an ominous yet resplendent spectacle across the firmament. Symbolising both terror and transcendence, this celestial apparition heralded a profound metamorphosis, wherein the detritus of capitalist hegemony fertilised the seeds of a nascent ecosystem nurtured by the resilient tendrils of mycelium. Though steeped in nihilistic contemplation, the film offered a glimmer of hope amidst the ruins, envisioning a cyclical narrative of rebirth and ecological renewal.
Dòigh Nàdair
Dòigh Nàdair, derived from the Gaelic lexicon, signified the “Way of Nature” or “Nature’s Way.” My artistic endeavours within this project involved the application of ancient alchemical methodologies, specifically in the extraction of chlorophyll. This creative pursuit was intricately linked to my larger undertaking, the Mycelium Project, serving as a conduit to forge a profound communion with the natural world.
This practice resulted in a series of prints meticulously crafted to encapsulate the evocative landscapes of County Meath, Ireland, which I traversed during my research. These visual compositions functioned as repositories of enchantment, unveiling the latent grandeur concealed within the intricate tapestry of nature’s manifestations.
My artistic expression sought to evoke a palpable sense of reverence and introspection, grounded in the conceptual framework of the Anthropocene—an epoch delineated by humanity’s pronounced impact on Earth’s geological and ecological systems. Each organic artwork stood as a testament to the epochal shifts wrought by human agency, suffused with a pervasive spiritual resonance.
Drawing inspiration from the metaphorical construct of the Hortus conclusus—the enclosed garden—I employed a deliberate juxtaposition of organic materials ensnared within man-made substrates. This approach crafted a visual metaphor emblematic of the delicate interplay between human intervention and the innate fecundity of nature. In homage to the botanical archives of the Willibaldsburg Castle’s garden, I endeavoured to establish a poignant parallel between the artistic tradition of florilegium and the untamed splendour of the natural world.
Furthermore, my creative impetus was imbued with the lyrical sensibilities of W.B. Yeats, whose poetic oeuvre served as a wellspring of inspiration. Informed by Yeats’s verse and catalysed by the introspective journey chronicled in the video Into the Twilight, I embarked on an expedition through the wild expanse of Meath’s landscapes, seeking to unravel the veiled echoes of Celtic heritage reverberating amidst its verdant terrain. This undertaking served as a complementary narrative thread, intertwining past, present, and future within the overarching conceptual framework centred around the multifaceted concept of mycelium.
SENTINEL-2.
Throughout the project, I constructed a sequence of compositions utilising natural elements integrated with Arduino and synthesisers. Serving as a locus for exploratory endeavours to foster future conceptual developments, I employed artificial intelligence to manipulate the musical output. This process resulted in warped soundscapes that symbolised the concealed mycelium structures pervasive within our environment.
