Author: rasmus.giera

This project explores a more intentional and sustainable way of creating visual sources for VJing by working with the node-based software “Resolume Wire” in combination with “Resolume Arena”. Instead of relying solely on downloaded or self-made pre-rendered clips or effect chains, the goal is to build adaptable systems that can evolve, just as the VJ evolves.

At its current stage (see node patch above), the project consists of two lines, a vertical and a horizontal line that behave like dancing entities by giving it specific parameters like minimum and maximum size, line thickness and random position appearances, which creates the dancing look (see below).

By mapping parameters in Wire to Midi controls in Arena, the lines can be manipulated in real time, shifting rhythm, shape and interaction dynamically during a set. This turns a simple visual into a responsive instrument rather than a static asset.
What makes this approach particularly compelling is its openness. The system is not a finished or fixed file. It is procedural and expandable. Additional parameters can be introduced in Wire at any point, allowing for more complex behaviors or nuanced control if required. Of course, that is as long as one has a Wire and Arena licence.

For example, arrays of color profiles could be implemented to either randomize colors or trigger specific palettes via MIDI or by making this effect sound reactive. This creates a balance between unpredictability and control, depending on how the performer chooses to engage with it.
This ongoing, system-based workflow differs significantly from more common approaches. Creating visuals directly in Arena often encourages experimentation through layering and applying effects in the moment. This can lead to surprising and playful results, driven by intuition rather than planning. On the other hand, producing pre-rendered content in tools like Adobe After Effects offers precision and high visual fidelity, making it ideal for detailed compositions that need to remain consistent.
I do not position myself against any of these methods. Both approaches have their place and I will likely try out all the mentioned workflows.
However, integrating Wire into the mix introduces a different layer. Independence as a VJ and longevity of visual sources. Instead of solely building a collection of fixed clips, this method contributes to a growing and reusable visual system. A personal databank of generative tools. Ironically, I will mix the content that I am writing about live at the “Generate” event in Graz. As I said, intentional design is the keyword here.
In that sense, this project is less about producing a finished visual and more about establishing a process, similar to a DJ set. The two dancing lines are just a starting point: One of the simplest structures that demonstrates how even minimal elements can become expressive when they are designed to be performed.

If you’re curious, here is a snippet of me testing and practicing. Or should i say I am cooking in my kitchen?

The color shift from white to, e.g., green is actually just an iPhone camera fault, but this inspired me to try and add a color randomizer for a certain number of frames, similar to how the lines appear in different positions on the screen.
Once again, testing has proven its worth beyond VJing being incredibly fun.

It is also rewarding to see how I presented last semester that I want to get into VJing and now I am already deep into the matter and have gone back to where it started – simple lines, as seen in my old presentation slide below.

Full circle moment!

In film, sound is often perceived as a supportive layer to the image. Yet in practice, sound design and music are central to how a film feels alive. Long before viewers consciously interpret narrative or visual composition, they respond to rhythm, texture, tension and release created through sound. Film sound does not merely accompany images; it animates them, gives them weight and shapes how time, space and emotion are perceived.

Film sound operates on multiple levels simultaneously. Dialogue conveys explicit information, sound design establishes environment and physical presence, and music shapes emotional interpretation. What makes film feel alive is not the presence of these elements individually, but their precise coordination. Subtle shifts in texture, timing and dynamics can transform a static image into a living moment. A nearly imperceptible low-frequency drone can create unease, while a slight delay between image and sound can suggest disorientation or emotional distance.

The book Creative Strategies in Film Scoring published by Berklee Press emphasizes that effective film music is not about illustrating what is already visible, but about revealing what is unseen. Music can express internal states, foreshadow events or connect scenes across time and space. Rather than reacting directly to visual action, contemporary film scoring often works against the image, creating contrast or tension. This approach prevents redundancy and allows sound to function as an interpretive layer rather than a decorative one.

This philosophy is particularly evident in the work of Hans Zimmer, whose approach to film scoring has reshaped contemporary sound aesthetics. Zimmer frequently blurs the boundary between music and sound design, integrating synthesized textures, processed orchestral elements and rhythmic pulses into a single sonic system. His scores are often built around evolving textures rather than traditional melodic themes, allowing sound to function as atmosphere, momentum and emotional pressure at once.

In films such as Dunkirk or Blade Runner 2049, sound becomes inseparable from the visual experience. Time-based structures like ticking clocks, accelerating pulses or continuous drones create a bodily sense of urgency. These sonic elements do not simply underscore action; they condition how the viewer’s body responds to the image. Breathing, heart rate and attention are subtly guided by sound, creating a visceral sense of immersion.

What is especially relevant for design-oriented research is the way film sound operates as a system rather than a sequence of isolated cues. Sound designers and composers often work with modular elements that can expand, contract or transform depending on narrative context. This systemic thinking parallels approaches in audiovisual design and live visuals, where parameters are defined and relationships are established rather than fixed outcomes produced. Sound becomes adaptive, responsive and temporally fluid.

Another key aspect discussed in film sound theory is the idea of “invisible work.” When sound design functions well, it often goes unnoticed. Silence, restraint and reduction play a crucial role in making moments feel alive. Removing sound can heighten attention, while minimal sonic gestures can carry more emotional weight than complex compositions. This sensitivity to absence and space reinforces the idea that liveliness does not depend on constant stimulation, but on carefully designed contrast.

Examining film sound production highlights how deeply sound shapes perception and meaning. It demonstrates that sound is not an accessory to image, but a structuring force that animates narrative, space and emotion. For audiovisual design beyond cinema, this perspective suggests that making visuals feel alive may depend less on visual complexity and more on how sound and image are choreographed as a unified emotional architecture.

Sources:

Berklee Press. (2016). Creative strategies in film scoring. Berklee College of Music.

Karlin, F., & Wright, R. (2004). On the track: A guide to contemporary film scoring (2nd ed.). Routledge.

Lehman, F. (2018). Hollywood harmony: Musical wonder and the sound of cinema. Oxford University Press.

Audiovisual systems are often built on rules. In many live visuals, animations follow amplitude, brightness responds to frequency, and rhythm maps directly to motion. These mappings feel intuitive and readable, especially in environments such as clubs or concerts where immediacy is crucial. Rule-based systems allow designers to translate sound into visuals efficiently, creating coherence and predictability in complex sensory environments.

However, this reliance on synchrony also introduces a limitation. When audiovisual systems consistently reinforce what is already present in the sound, they risk becoming illustrative rather than expressive. Sound is no longer interpreted, but mirrored. Over time, these conventions solidify into expectations: a bass drop must explode visually, intensity must equal brightness, silence must equal darkness. At this point, the system no longer produces meaning, but confirms it.

This is where breaking the system becomes not a failure, but a design strategy.

Theorists of film sound have long argued that sound does not need to align with image to be effective. Michel Chion describes how sound can function as an independent narrative force, shaping perception even when it contradicts what is seen. Rather than redundancy, disjunction creates tension, ambiguity and emotional depth. This principle extends beyond cinema into audiovisual performance and live visual systems.

A clear example of this can be found in the film Dunkirk (2017), where sound and image deliberately resist synchronization. The persistent ticking motif in the soundtrack does not correspond to visible clocks or actions, yet it dominates the viewer’s bodily perception of time. Moments of visual stillness are accompanied by intense sonic pressure, while moments of action are sometimes stripped of musical emphasis. The result is not confusion, but heightened immersion. Sound does not explain the image; it destabilizes it. The film feels alive precisely because its audiovisual system refuses to resolve into a single, coherent rhythm.

In live audiovisual contexts, similar effects emerge when systems are designed to allow contradiction. Calm visuals beneath aggressive sound, delayed reactions, or moments where visuals remain unchanged despite sonic escalation all interrupt expectation. In these moments, sound effectively “lies.” It suggests one emotional direction while the image proposes another. Rather than canceling each other out, these competing signals produce a third layer of meaning that the audience must actively negotiate.

This negotiation is crucial. When systems behave exactly as expected, audiences can disengage perceptually while remaining physically present. When a system breaks its own rules, attention is reactivated. The audience becomes aware of the audiovisual relationship as something constructed and contingent. This awareness does not diminish immersion; it often deepens it by introducing tension and unpredictability.

Importantly, breaking rules only works when rules exist in the first place. A system provides orientation; deviation creates emphasis. Silence has power only when sound is anticipated. Stillness is expressive only when movement has been established. From this perspective, systems and their disruption are not opposites, but interdependent design elements.

This leads to a stronger design claim: audiovisual systems should not aim for perfect synchronization, but for expressive flexibility. Rather than asking how accurately visuals can follow sound, designers might ask when visuals should resist, lag behind or remain indifferent to sonic cues. Such resistance introduces friction, and friction is often what makes an experience feel alive.

For practice-based audiovisual design, this reframes error and failure. A visual response that appears “incorrect” within a system may generate more meaning than a technically flawless reaction. Especially in live contexts, moments of breakdown can signal presence, risk and authorship. They remind the audience that the system is being performed, not executed.

Ultimately, liveliness in audiovisual work does not emerge from control alone. It emerges in the unstable space between structure and rupture. Designing systems that can be bent, contradicted or temporarily broken allows audiovisual experiences to move beyond automation and toward expression. In this space, sound and image do not simply align.

THEY ARGUE.

THEY HESITATE.

THEY COLLIDE.

And it is precisely there that they begin to feel alive.

Sources:

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

Chion, M. (2009). Film, a sound art. Columbia University Press.

Karlin, F., & Wright, R. (2004). On the track: A guide to contemporary film scoring (2nd ed.). Routledge.

Lehman, F. (2018). Hollywood harmony: Musical wonder and the sound of cinema. Oxford University Press.

Formulating a research question is not a neutral or universal act. Different disciplines propose different frameworks that reflect their underlying assumptions about knowledge, rigor and validity. This becomes especially visible when frameworks developed for scientific research are applied to creative or practice-based fields. In this post, I examine the stepwise approach to research question formulation by Ratan, Anand and Ratan, and critically compare it with Christopher Frayling’s concept of Research through Design.

From a methodological standpoint, this approach offers several strengths. FINERMAPS provides a clear checklist that helps prevent overly broad, vague or impractical questions. It foregrounds feasibility and manageability, encouraging researchers to align ambition with available resources and constraints. The framework also emphasizes relevance and potential value, ensuring that research questions are not formulated in isolation but contribute meaningfully to an existing field of knowledge. In this sense, the approach supports accountability and clarity, qualities that are often expected in academic research contexts.

However, the framework also reflects assumptions rooted in positivist and applied research traditions. The classification of research questions into types such as descriptive, relational, comparative or causal reveals a preference for questions that aim to explain, measure or establish relationships. While this is appropriate for many forms of scientific inquiry, it becomes limiting when applied to design research, where questions often address experience, interpretation and meaning rather than causality or classification. Additionally, the emphasis on systematic formulation and early evaluation assumes a level of stability that does not always exist in exploratory or practice-led research.

This contrasts strongly with Christopher Frayling’s model of Research through Design. Frayling distinguishes between research into, for and through design, with the latter positioning practice itself as a mode of inquiry.

In this framework, research questions are not necessarily fully formed at the outset. Instead, they may emerge, shift or even dissolve through making, testing and reflecting. Knowledge is generated not only through analysis but through the act of designing, with artifacts functioning as sites of investigation rather than final answers.

Where Ratan et al. emphasize evaluation and validation prior to research, Frayling emphasizes emergence and iteration within research. Ambiguity is not treated as a flaw but as a productive condition. Research questions in a research through design context may remain open-ended or provisional for extended periods, allowing insights to surface through practice rather than through predefined structures. This approach aligns closely with creative disciplines, where understanding often develops through material engagement rather than linear problem-solving.

The tension between these frameworks reveals a deeper epistemological difference. Ratan et al. prioritize questions that can be systematically assessed and potentially generalized, whereas Frayling accepts situated, subjective and practice-specific knowledge as valid research outcomes. The inclusion of criteria such as “publishability” within FINERMAPS further highlights this divide, as design research may generate value through process, experience or localized insight rather than through traditional publication metrics.

Rather than viewing these frameworks as incompatible, their comparison highlights the need for adaptation. The stepwise approach by Ratan et al. can function as a valuable evaluative lens, helping to test whether a research question is feasible, relevant and appropriately scoped. Frayling’s framework, on the other hand, offers a conceptual foundation for embracing uncertainty, iteration and making as legitimate forms of inquiry. When combined critically, these frameworks allow research questions to be both reflective and rigorous, structured yet open to transformation.

Sources:

Frayling, C. (1993). Research in art and design. Royal College of Art Research Papers, 1(1), 1–5.

Ratan, S. K., Anand, T., & Ratan, J. (2019). Formulation of research question – stepwise approach. Journal of Indian Association of Pediatric Surgeons, 24(1), 15–20.

Finding a research question is often presented as a single moment of clarity. In practice, however, it is an iterative process shaped by curiosity, observation, conversation and experimentation. Rather than starting with a fixed thesis statement, I approached my research direction as something that would emerge through learning, practice and reflection.

My initial curiosity came from experience rather than theory. Spending time in clubs, concerts and audiovisual environments, I repeatedly noticed how visuals influence the story that sound conveys. Often, a new combined narrative emerges, shaping how people move, connect or disengage within a shared space. This observation led to an early realization: visuals are never neutral. They always influence how a space is felt and experienced.

To explore these questions, I began with open-ended brainstorming. I collected associations between sound qualities such as rhythm, reverb, equalizers, distortion and tempo, and visual attributes such as movement, shape, density and colour. These early mappings revealed patterns. They are not intended to function as strict rules, but as starting points for developing a visual language for the relationship between sound and image. Similar to spoken language, where a word can hold multiple meanings depending on context, a visual interpretation of sound can also remain open to interpretation.

Another important method was conversation-based research. I spoke with media designers, VJs, sound designers and people involved in club culture to gather perspectives beyond my own practice. These discussions reinforced my understanding that audiovisual design is relational. It is shaped by people, space and time, rather than by tools alone.

Alongside these methods, reflective writing helped me articulate why certain audiovisual moments stayed with me. Recurring themes emerged from this process, including collectivity, embodiment, rhythm and atmosphere. Writing about these experiences clarified that my interest does not lie in visuals for their own sake, but in understanding how they shape shared emotional experience.

Through this process, my focus gradually narrowed. Rather than asking how visuals can enhance music, I became increasingly interested in how designed systems for translating sound into visuals can shape collective emotional experience in live environments. Based on this focus, several candidate research questions emerged. Each approaches the topic from a slightly different angle while remaining intentionally open-ended.

Option A
How can a visual language for sound be designed to influence collective emotional experience in temporary cultural spaces such as clubs and raves?

Option B
How can sound be translated into a consistent visual language that shapes collective emotional experience in live music environments?

Option C
How can a visual language for translating sound be developed to shape collective experience in temporary live music spaces?

Option D
Can a designed visual language for sound influence how collective emotion is experienced in live audiovisual performance?

These questions map a research landscape rather than define a single outcome. One question may become dominant, or the thesis may synthesize elements from multiple options. At this stage, the openness of these questions reflects the exploratory nature of the research.

If one or more of these directions is pursued, the thesis would define a system for translating sound into visuals. This system is explicitly understood as a designed language, not a universal truth. Its purpose would be to explore consistency, interpretation and meaning rather than objective correctness.

The visual language could be applied through practice-based outcomes such as live and reactive visuals using tools like TouchDesigner, Resolume or Arkestra, prerendered animation tests exploring rhythm and timing, or staged audiovisual performances functioning as experimental scenarios rather than final artworks.

The final layer of the research would focus on reflection. This could include audience feedback, informal responses, personal reflection on the design process and comparisons between rule-based visual systems and intuitive or improvised approaches. Through this process, the thesis aims to understand how designed visual systems can shape experience in live audiovisual contexts while remaining open to ambiguity, interpretation and ongoing development.

Sources:

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

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

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

Ratan, S. K., Anand, T., & Ratan, J. (2019). Formulation of research question–Stepwise approach. Journal of Indian Association of Pediatric Surgeons, 24(1), 15-20.

---

From a design management perspective, the combination of sound and image has the opportunity to become a branding tool. DJs, collectives and labels use visual identity to express values, whether political, aesthetic or emotional. Visuals become a statement, extending sound language into design culture.

As a media designer and club culture enthusiast, I am fascinated by how visual artistry can evoke the essence of music. A bouncing sphere might represent percussion, while abstract gradients might express the warmth of a synth pad. Beyond aesthetics, the creation of such experiences allows designers to tell political statements, engage and connect with people and support causes through charity initiatives.
An example of such responsibility taken into account is the collaboration of the music label Curieux Dilettanti (CXD) and the charity initiative ELPIDA e.V.. An album was produced in advance of a joint music event, of which all revenue was donated to the ELPIDA project in order to assist them in their mission for the right to asylum for all, once and for all.

So to me the question is not only how music can be visualized, but how it can be interpreted through design. Design is not neutral; it shapes emotions, values and collective experience. This becomes particularly important in club and festival environments, which function not only as entertainment spaces but also as cultural and political arenas.

Sources

Best, K. (2015). Design management: Managing design strategy, process and implementation. Bloomsbury.

Faulkner, J. (2013). VJ: Audio-visual art and VJ culture. Laurence King Publishing.

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

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.