Month: February 2026

One of the most eye-opening parts of my research so far has been experiencing live audiovisual events in person. Reading about VJing, visual music or animation can explain technical possibilities, but it cannot replicate the energy, unpredictability or emotional resonance of a crowd. Field trips have become essential not just for inspiration, but for understanding the audience as an active participant in the visual system.

Being physically present in these environments makes clear that audiovisual design does not exist in isolation. It is always embedded in space, shaped by sound pressure, lighting conditions, movement and social dynamics. The same visual can feel completely different depending on the crowd, the venue and the collective mood.

A particularly inspiring encounter was meeting Julian Horus, a VJ I discovered on Instagram who is doing work very similar to what I want to accomplish. He thinks in ways I do: live VJing in a way that mirrors a DJ’s presence, sharing the stage rather than putting sound in the spotlight and visuals in the back corner of the room, and thinking playfully and experimentally. For example, he rigged a video game controller to TouchDesigner so he can join the crowd, feel the energy and “play” the visuals from within. Seeing his approach confirmed for me that it is possible to design visuals that are both interactive and part of the performance, not just accompaniment.

I then had the chance to meet him at an event in the Sub event space in Graz. I went there to dance and experience the attempt at symbiosis between sound and visuals firsthand. It was inspiring to see how the crowd responded to visuals which were sometimes even influenced by their movements, observed via a camera connected to his TouchDesigner composition. Experiencing this dynamic feedback loop emphasized how the audience itself becomes a data source within the system. Movement, density and collective rhythm feed back into the visuals, which in turn influence how people move and interact. This circular relationship reinforces the idea that audiovisual performance is a shared process rather than a one-directional presentation.

Alongside this, I started testing VJ Software myself, namely Resolume and experimenting with first visualizations for club spaces. These exercises are exploratory rather than outcome-driven. There are no finished products yet, but they allow me to test how my visual language behaves in environments closer to live performance.

Another important reference in my practical exploration has been Arkestra as a visual performance tool. In contrast to large, industry-standard software environments such as Resolume, Arkestra appears to be developed on a much smaller scale and is likely created and maintained by a single individual or a very small team. This is reflected in its accessibility, pricing and overall approach, which feels more approachable for beginners and independent designers. What makes Arkestra particularly interesting to me is its focus on immediacy and experimentation rather than technical complexity. The software allows for quick visual results without requiring deep programming knowledge, lowering the threshold for entry into audiovisual performance. This makes it suitable not only for live experimentation but also for learning how visuals react to sound through hands-on play. I have been actively testing Arkestra by using material from my FH projects as source content. Existing animations and visual studies are re-contextualized within Arkestra’s effects and reactive systems, allowing me to generate new visual outcomes from already familiar material. This process has been valuable in understanding how different tools reinterpret the same visual language and how sound-driven manipulation can transform meaning and atmosphere. Working with Arkestra has also highlighted the importance of tool choice in shaping creative decisions. Its limitations are not obstacles but productive constraints, encouraging intuitive exploration rather than polished perfection. Through this process, I am learning how beginner-friendly tools can still support meaningful experimentation and contribute to the development of a personal audiovisual practice.

Another source of insight came from conversations with my brother, co-owner of the CxD label. I shared my idea of rethinking how VJs are placed in a party environment, creating a new narrative for sound and visuals. I also shared my vision for a Face2Face event, where the VJ and DJ are positioned in front of each other, actively “dancing” together through pressing buttons in both music and visuals.

Depending on the story intended for the event, this could manifest as a playful one-on-one or a synchronized performance. We agreed this is pioneering work, which increased my excitement for this journey.

Hands-on experimentation has also been crucial. In first-semester projects such as the “Big Mouth Project”, I explored reactive visuals by animating a cube that responds to music through expressions. I combined rhythm, chance and intentionally placed keyframes to highlight moments of calm or intensity in a track. This manual approach revealed how subtle timing decisions can significantly alter emotional perception. Even small delays, accelerations or pauses change how visuals feel in relation to sound, reinforcing the importance of sensitivity and intuition in audiovisual design. Over time, these experiments could provide material to observe audience reactions, closing the feedback loop and generating new insights for design.

Seeing my heroes in action, both in person and through their work online, has been highly motivational. Teachers such as Markus Zimmermann reminded me of the value of seeking out people whose practice aligns with my own aspirations. Witnessing their mindset and creative process makes my goals feel tangible and achievable.

As technology continues to evolve, the boundaries between sound and image will continue to blur. Real-time rendering, artificial intelligence and extended reality are already transforming how visuals respond to music. In the future, visuals may adapt to individual listeners through biometric feedback or mood recognition, turning performances into personalised experiences. This development suggests a shift from static audiovisual systems toward responsive environments that react not only to sound, but also to human presence. Visuals may no longer function as a single, shared output, but as adaptive systems that negotiate between artist intent, technological parameters and audience behaviour in real time.

At the same time, generative design tools allow artists to create evolving visual systems that feel more like organisms than animations. These systems can grow, mutate and respond to input in unpredictable ways, creating performances that are never fully repeatable. Such generative approaches challenge traditional notions of authorship and control. Rather than designing a finished visual outcome, the designer defines rules, behaviours and relationships. The final experience emerges through interaction, aligning visual music with broader tendencies in computational and systems-based design.

Beyond technical innovation, the social and political dimension of visual music is becoming increasingly important. As club culture and art spaces merge, these environments become platforms for activism, community and resistance. Clubs, raves and festivals have historically functioned as spaces of refuge and expression for marginalised communities. As these spaces gain visibility and technological sophistication, their symbolic power grows as well. Visuals do not merely accompany sound, but contribute to shaping who feels welcome, represented or excluded. With rising far-right and discriminatory ideologies across Europe and beyond, it becomes increasingly important to defend and consciously shape these spaces as inclusive and progressive. Visual design plays a key role in communicating solidarity, empathy and shared values. Design becomes both a form of celebration and a form of resistance. Through atmosphere, symbolism and collective emotion, audiovisual design can reinforce social bonds and remind audiences of shared responsibility within cultural spaces.

Source:

Leerberg, M., Riisberg, V., & Boutrup, J. (2010). Design responsibility and sustainable design as reflective practice: An educational challenge. Sustainable Development, 18(5), 306–317.

Giera, L., & Eller, C. (2025, October 22). Community driven cultural works (Interview).

Sound communicates emotion even without words in it. Visuals have the ability to translate that emotion into something we can see and adds another layer of media that can be interpreted. Artists like Wassily Kandinsky and Oskar Fischinger believed that colour and movement can form “visual music”, as they could act like notes and rhythm too. They explored the relationship between sound and image in the early 20th century, long before digital tools existed.

In modern VJing or animation, this translation continues in live and digital forms. Delicate melodies might flow as fluid rivers, while a bass drop might trigger a sudden burst of light. A VJ generally adds to the atmosphere by interlinking with sound, rhythm and the structure of the venue. This intensification of sound helps the audience feel rhythm physically, bridging the gap between hearing and movement.

Examples of audiovisual work that amplify the sound experience include the work of Ryoji Ikeda, whose minimalist light compositions turn sound frequencies into geometric flashes, creating a precise sensory overload.

Another example is Amon Tobin’s ISAM Live performance, where 3D projection mapping blurs performer and structure until the stage itself feels alive. In both cases, visuals are an integral part of the experience and actively shape the narrative the artist conveys.

Sources:

Chion, M. (1994). Audio-vision: Sound on screen. Columbia University Press.

Brougher, K., Strick, J., Wiseman, A., & Zilczer, J. (2005). Visual music: Synaesthesia in art and music since 1900. Thames & Hudson.

Ikeda, R. (2016). Datamatics. Elea-Media Art Editions.

Marks, L. E. (1978). The unity of the senses: Interrelations among the modalities. Academic Press.

The curiosity of the human mind is closely connected to synaesthesia, a neurological condition where one sense involuntarily triggers another. Humans naturally seek to translate experiences between senses in order to understand and share emotion. This desire is not purely aesthetic, but psychological. It reflects an attempt to make the invisible visible and to structure emotional perception in a way that can be communicated to others.

Even for people who do not experience synaesthesia in a clinical sense, cross-sensory associations are common. Sounds may feel sharp or soft, colours warm or cold, rhythms heavy or light. These intuitive translations form the conceptual basis of visual music and explain why the combination of sound and image can feel natural rather than artificial.

In the 1920s and 1930s, artists like Oskar Fischinger created hand-drawn and filmed animations that visualized musical compositions through rhythm, geometry and colour. Works such as An Optical Poem (1938) used motion as a visual equivalent to melody. Around the same time, early light-organ inventors like Thomas Wilfred explored similar ideas in installations such as the Clavilux.

These early works were created with extremely limited technical means, yet they established principles that remain relevant today: abstraction instead of illustration, rhythm instead of narrative, and movement as a carrier of emotion. Rather than depicting literal meanings, these artists focused on how music feels, setting a foundation for later audiovisual experimentation.

In the 1960s, these experiments expanded into live performances, laying the foundation for what is now referred to as visual music. Light shows accompanying psychedelic rock concerts translated sound into colour and motion in real time, making the audience an integral part of the experience. These performances emphasized immersion and collective perception rather than passive observation.

With the rise of digital tools in the 1990s and 2000s, VJing became more accessible and experimental. Software such as VDMX and Resolume allowed artists to manipulate visuals in real time, marking a shift from analog improvisation to hybrid design and performance practices.

This transition also changed the role of the visual artist. Visuals were no longer pre-produced and fixed, but could respond dynamically to sound, space and audience energy. The historical development from analog systems to digital tools shows a continuous desire to synchronize sound and image, not as decoration, but as a unified sensory language.

Sources:

Brougher, K., Strick, J., Wiseman, A., & Zilczer, J. (2005). Visual music: Synaesthesia in art and music since 1900. Thames & Hudson.

Brown, R. H. (2012). The spirit inside each object: John Cage, Oskar Fischinger, and “the future of music.” Journal of the Society for American Music, 6(1), 83–113.

Cytowic, R. E. (2002). Synesthesia: A union of the senses (2nd ed.). MIT Press.

Moritz, W. (2004). Optical poetry: The life and work of Oskar Fischinger. Indiana University Press.

The final step of this research phase was to conduct the planned surveys at two German train stations. Due to changes in my travel schedule and time availability since the last blog post, I conducted the interviews in Berlin and Munich instead of Augsburg as originally planned. Despite this adjustment, I was able to approach a diverse range of people at both stations and collect valuable data and insights through the interviews. The final step of this phase was to organize, review, and analyze the collected data.

Questioning

Before bringing the survey to the train stations, I first tested the questions with family members and friends. This initial test phase aimed to evaluate whether the questions were understood as intended and whether they were concise and easy to answer. The feedback was largely positive, and only minor adjustments were necessary. As a result, I was able to proceed confidently to the next stage of the research.

The first round of on-site interviews took place in Berlin during one of my trips. At Berlin Main Station, I spoke with three participants and asked them the prepared survey questions. The selected individuals represented a diverse group and provided a range of interesting and varied responses. With the participants’ consent, I recorded the conversations, which was particularly helpful during the data analysis phase.

The second survey location was Munich Main Station. There, I interviewed five people in the area around the train platforms. Once again, the participants were diverse in terms of age, gender, and language background. All interviewees agreed to voice recording and provided detailed answers to the questions. However, the high level of background noise, caused by ongoing construction work in addition to the typical sounds of a busy train station, posed a minor challenge. It made conversations more difficult and resulted in some recordings being less clear than desired.

Despite these limitations, I am satisfied with the overall outcome of the survey and the number of participants I was able to engage within a relatively short period of time.

Analysis

To take a deeper look at the data collected during the surveys, I began by transcribing the voice recordings into text format. I chose to retain the original languages of the participants, resulting in transcripts in both German and English, depending on the language used during the interviews. Writing out the individual responses allowed me to gain a clear overview of the answers and to identify the range of opinions, experiences, and ideas shared by the participants.

Here is the overview I created for the interviews:

Some of the responses were expected, while others were surprising and addressed aspects I had not personally considered. For the rating-based questions, the scores varied between two and seven, reflecting a wide range of individual experiences. Responses to the question about problematic locations within train stations differed significantly between participants. In contrast, the question asking whether improvements to train platforms would lead to a better user experience was answered with “yes” by all participants.

The final question, which asked participants to share their own ideas, was not answered by everyone, as it was the most challenging and time-consuming question. Nevertheless, the responses I did receive were highly insightful. One of the biggest surprises was that a participant identified the service center as the most problematic area within a train station. This answer stood out to me because it was not something I would have mentioned based on my own travel experiences. However, it is a valid and understandable perspective and just as valuable as the other responses.

One particularly encouraging moment was when a participant suggested improvements in information structure, clearer signage, and floor-based guidance systems to enhance orientation. These ideas closely align with my own thoughts and proposed directions for the project, and it was reassuring to see that another user independently identified similar areas for improvement.

Information Gathered

My main takeaway from this method of data collection is that users experience train stations in very different ways, both during their journeys and while spending time at the stations themselves. However, one point all participants agreed on was that train stations are in need of further improvement, and that these changes should be implemented as soon as possible.

I also found that while users identify multiple problematic areas within train stations, improvements to train platforms in particular would be highly appreciated. Participants expressed the belief that enhancing platform design and functionality would significantly improve their overall travel experience in Germany.

Overall, the survey provided useful and insightful responses that fulfilled my initial goal of gaining a broader and more diverse understanding of everyday user experiences. I therefore consider this research step to be both successful and valuable for the continuation of my project.

Final Conclusion

Over the course of the last ten blog posts, I had the opportunity to explore my chosen topic from multiple perspectives and to experiment with different research approaches. This process served as an important first step into the subject and made it clear to me how engaging and complex this field is, as well as how many opportunities there are for further exploration, experimentation, and design. It also showed me that user experience at German train stations is a real-world challenge with significant potential for improvement and innovation.

For these reasons, I plan to continue researching this topic in the future. My goal is to further broaden and deepen my knowledge while moving closer to developing concrete and meaningful solutions to improve the user experience at German train stations.

Texture Optimization

In modern 3D graphics, texture management plays a major effect on the performance. High-quality textures make scenes look realistic, but they can easily overload memory and slow rendering. To handle this challenge efficiently, new texture formats and optimization techniques like KTX2, Basis Universal, channel packing, atlasing, and mipmapping are increasingly used across both games and web experiences.

The KTX2 Format

Modern 3D workflows require efficient, cross-platform texture formats. That’s where KTX2 (Khronos Texture 2.0) comes in. Designed for modern graphics APIs like Vulkan, OpenGL, and WebGPU, the KTX2 format has become a standard for next-generation texture pipelines.

One of its standout features is Basis Universal supercompression, a technology developed by Google and Binomial. It stores textures in highly compressed intermediate formats (ETC1S and UASTC), which can be converted directly to GPU-native formats at runtime. This approach eliminates the need to maintain separate texture sets for different platforms, saving both time and storage space.

Another key feature of the KTX2 Format, is the Data Format Descriptor (DFD) system. It provides detailed metadata about compression parameters. This metadata allows textures to automatically be detected ensuring smooth integration with modern graphics pipelines. KTX2 also supports a wide range of advanced texture types such as arrays, cubemaps and 3D textures. This makes the format highly flexible for complex rendering workflows.

Basis Universal

Basis was developed by Google and Binomial in 2019 and aims to make texture data more efficient across different platforms. The basis format is typically 6-8 times smaller than jpeg, with less strain on the GPU and also smaller filesize. This makes it ideal for gaming, AR/VR, and of course, web based 3D. The main selling point of Basis Universal though, is its cross-platform efficiency as it supports fast decoding across devices which drastically reduces bandwidth and memory requirements.

Texture Optimization Techniques

Efficient texture management goes beyond compression. There are many tricks, artists use to optimize their textures for the web/in general. These techniques help balance quality and performance.

Channel Packing

Channel packing combines different texture maps into the different RGB channels of a single image. So a single image file could hold multiple texture maps such as, for example; roughness maps, metallic maps, etc. This alleviates the stress on bandwidth by quite a bit, as the technique saves up to four times the texture space and is also simple to set up. This method is most frequently used in game development, where VRAM is often an issue.

Atlasing

A texture atlas combines many smaller textures into one large image. This reduces the number of draw calls and texture switches during rendering, significantly boosting performance. Texture atlases are often used in game engines to improve frame rates, reduce memory overhead, and speed up loading times resulting in smoother gameplay and a more responsive experience.

Mipmapping

Mipmapping creates a chain of lower‑resolution versions of a texture that are automatically selected by the GPU based on the viewer’s distance. This basically works very similar to the LODs that I talked about in the “how can 3D designers optimize models”. Whenever a 3D object moves away from the camera, the system switches to a smaller mipmap level to reduce aliasing and improve performance. While mipmapped textures require about 33% more memory, they reduce bandwidth usage and improve cache efficiency, making them vital for real‑time rendering. Besides performance gains, mipmapping also enhances visual quality by preventing flickering and shimmering on distant surfaces.

SOURCES

1: https://pixijs.com/8.x/guides/components/assets/compressed-textures
2: https://dev.to/himj266/delving-into-the-world-of-3d-web-from-webgl-to-threejs-and-react-three-fiber-23kh
3: https://opensource.googleblog.com/2021/02/basis-universal-textures.html
4: https://blenderartists.org/t/guide-texture-optimisation-channel-packing/1227744
5: https://garagefarm.net/blog/texture-atlas-optimizing-textures-in-3d-renderinghttps://developer.android.com/games/optimize/textures