Nataliia Jackson

A generative audio-reactive Music video that is built around an original noisy experimental electronic track. Four visual layers - black-and-white glitch blocks, a red crystalline cluster, moody blue-grey cloud footage, and white tree blossoms - are mixed and transitioned through a custom audio-reactive system in TouchDesigner, synchronized with Ableton Live via TDAbleton.

It explores the tension between digital brutalism and organic melancholic atmosphere. Per-track audio analysis creates a direct relationship between individual musical elements and visual parameters: kick transients drive glitch intensity, melodic content shapes crystal geometry, and atmospheric pads control the drift of natural footage. A parameter gating system ensures that audio sources only influence visuals during appropriate song sections, creating a structured narrative arc from sparse atmosphere through digital chaos and back to organic stillness.

The track is divided into seven sections. A previz stage with 5 moving heads, 48 strobe lights, and an LED screen border extends the audio-reactive system into a full lighting environment, with color temperature shifting between red for high-energy sections and blue for atmospheric ones.The intent was to treat visual and sonic elements as a single unified system, where the music doesn't accompany the visuals - it produces them.

Tools: TouchDesigner, Ableton Live, TDAbleton, Max for Live Year: 2026

Time Machine is a 3:30 audio-reactive lighting experience in which 25 moving head fixtures, arranged as a 5×5 grid, behave as a single responsive instrument. Built in TouchDesigner with an Ableton Live recording as the audio source, the piece moves through seven scenes — each tied to a distinct synth or noise element in the score, each producing a diﬀerent visual response in beam geometry, color, and motion.

The arc runs from soft to sharp: from white rain pulsing on vertical beams, through structured row-and-column movement, a soft yellow diamond, shimmering accents, an arpeggiated lattice, a circular bloom, and finally a return to the opening — broken now into fragmented, sharper rain. The piece begins and ends in the same vocabulary, but everything in between has changed.

The conceptual focus is the relationship between sound and response — the audience doesn't just hear the music, they see what the music is doing in real time. Each scene asks a different question: what does breath look like? What does a structured pulse look like? What does shimmer feel like across a grid of beams?

Tools: TouchDesigner, Ableton Live, Art-Net / sACN Year: 2026

Noise Studies is a series of audio-reactive works built around a shared fascination with noise as a sculptural material. Something that can hold shape, lose it, and find it again. Each piece begins with a simple geometry - a sphere or a plane and subjects it to layered displacement and distortion driven by sound. The music changes, the mood changes, but the question stays the same: how much pressure can a form absorb before it becomes something else entirely?

Two companion works exploring the space between natural imagery and machine perception.

In Flowers, dense floral arrangements dissolve into molten, painterly abstractions - petals losing their edges, colour pooling and pulling apart in constant motion. Simulated blob-tracking data drifts across the surface, numbering and marking forms that no longer hold still long enough to be identified. What reads at first as analytic overlay gradually becomes part of the texture itself, indistinguishable from the image it claims to measure.

Seasons extends this logic across four chapters - spring, summer, autumn, winter - each processed through the same system. Inspired by Kim Ki-duk's Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter... and Spring, the work borrows the film's cyclical structure: a landscape that transforms completely yet returns to itself, observed with the same steady, unhurried gaze throughout. The tracking persists regardless, indifferent to what it observes, applying the same mechanical attention to snow as to blossoms.

Together, the works ask a quiet question: when vision becomes measurement, what gets lost — and what, unexpectedly, gets found?

Two companion works exploring the space between natural imagery and machine perception.

In Flowers, dense floral arrangements dissolve into molten, painterly abstractions - petals losing their edges, colour pooling and pulling apart in constant motion. Simulated blob-tracking data drifts across the surface, numbering and marking forms that no longer hold still long enough to be identified. What reads at first as analytic overlay gradually becomes part of the texture itself, indistinguishable from the image it claims to measure.

Seasons extends this logic across four chapters - spring, summer, autumn, winter - each processed through the same system. Inspired by Kim Ki-duk's Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter... and Spring, the work borrows the film's cyclical structure: a landscape that transforms completely yet returns to itself, observed with the same steady, unhurried gaze throughout. The tracking persists regardless, indifferent to what it observes, applying the same mechanical attention to snow as to blossoms.

Together, the works ask a quiet question: when vision becomes measurement, what gets lost — and what, unexpectedly, gets found?

A series of works translating physical paintings into generative motion - each piece beginning with the texture and gesture of oil on canvas, then pulled apart and rebuilt as something the original surface could never become.

In the first work, footage of a deep blue painting - heavy with pooling drops is dissolved into a particle system driven by sharp, angular noise. The softness of the paint gives way to something fractured and crystalline, the original weight of the material scattered into restless, jittering constellations that remember the colour but forget the stillness.

In the second, a white textural painting is reimagined as soft, voluminous geometry following the path of a Thomas attractor - a cyclically symmetric form that folds endlessly through itself. Thedense impasto becomes something cloudlike and buoyant, swelling and contracting in response to music. Where the first piece shatters, this one breathes.

Together they explore what a painting becomes when it is no longer a surface - when its material qualities are inherited by systems that move, react, and behave in ways the canvas never could.

A series of works translating physical paintings into generative motion - each piece beginning with the texture and gesture of oil on canvas, then pulled apart and rebuilt as something the original surface could never become.

In the first work, footage of a deep blue painting - heavy with pooling drops is dissolved into a particle system driven by sharp, angular noise. The softness of the paint gives way to something fractured and crystalline, the original weight of the material scattered into restless, jittering constellations that remember the colour but forget the stillness.

In the second, a white textural painting is reimagined as soft, voluminous geometry following the path of a Thomas attractor - a cyclically symmetric form that folds endlessly through itself. Thedense impasto becomes something cloudlike and buoyant, swelling and contracting in response to music. Where the first piece shatters, this one breathes.

Together they explore what a painting becomes when it is no longer a surface - when its material qualities are inherited by systems that move, react, and behave in ways the canvas never could.