Through technology we can change our sensory perception, and in turn, connect with the natural world in a previously inaccessible way.

The microscope, as an extension of the eye, is capable of observing the mitochondria, which allows us to approach the mysteries of the cellular ecosystem. Sonar is an extension of the ear, which allows us to locate tiny marine species in the endless ocean. This contemplative experience deepens our understanding and proposes a constructive role for technology within the natural world.

In this exhibition we explore the intersection between technology and nature through eight digital multimedia experiences. Eight screens will replace the traditional canvas with abstract paintings based on natural images manipulated through digital methods. A slowly changing color light is emitted behind the digital canvas, conveying a sense of cyclical movement to a static painting. Each image is accompanied by a piece of ambient audio and light sculpture that envelops the viewer in a digital multimedia experience. The interventions represent a reorganization of the natural world through algorithms and binary instructions. This aids in the reconstruction and reinterpretation of basic elements in biological visual aesthetics, which seeks to generate a visceral and contemplative experience. 

The visual elements were generated with a WebGL experiment by Leon Denise: DragAndGlitch.

 Tepoztlán was one of the towns that was most heavily affected by the S19 earthquake. Located about one hour from the capital this quaint and mystical town transports you back in time. It enjoys one of the best climates in the world, with narrow stone streets and historical landmarks. The town is guarded by a tall range of chiselled mountains called El Tepozteco. An archaeological site with a couple of pre-hispanic temples adorn the top of the range, inviting tourists and pilgrims as far as Guatemala since pre-hispanic times. The structures and bridges to get up the mountain were so damaged that access was prohibited for months after the earthquake. The earthquake also damaged the churches located within the town. This forced residents to close the facilities and adapt makeshift prayer spaces while their structural integrity was restored. A town that was once vibrant was now still and quiet. Void of tourists and bell sounds, the residents were overtaken by a disorienting sensation. It is through this silence that we understood the profound relationship between the town and its bells.

The Ex-Convent Museum, also damaged, remained closed for the following months. During this time the museum's collaborators were tasked with documenting through interviews the feelings of the town residents during this dramatic moment. In this valuable recorded oral history, the sentiment that predominated was the emptiness, sadness, and the disorienting feeling of warped time caused by the absence of bell notifications. It became evident that the bells were much more to the town than metallic artifacts. They have an active role in their community as an agent that validates ceremonies, notifies the town of important events and keeps track of time (Mariano). Now, residents would rely on Facebook posts and word of mouth. The church bells are one of the driving forces of the town, providing punctuation and rhythm to everyday life.

The museum invited a Max Kracer and myself to collaborate for the opening of the exposition When the Bells Fell Silent. They shared with us their sound archive that included a catalogue of bells, interviews and field recordings of everyday town life. We edited, modified and composed a 40 minute ambient piece that was played at the exhibition.