Aaro Murphy
As light as catching air
The exhibition brings together new works, across film, sculpture and scent, exploring relationships between memory, landscape and emerging olfactory technologies.
At the centre of the exhibition is Prototype for Listening, a newly developed sculpture that gently diffuses an orchid scent into the gallery. Suspended from the ceiling, the work draws on the forms of greenhouse infrastructure and the delicate posture of drooping orchids, while its clear glass vessels and interconnected tubes reference the headspace technique used in the aroma industry.
Alongside the sculpture is the film Phantom Bloom, which speculates on disappearing aromatic landscapes from the perspective of a fictional “electronic nose” — a hybrid of a large language model and an analytical sensing instrument. The voice shifts between scientific language and lyrical poetry, forming an abstract audiovisual narrative between analysis and poetic recollection. Together, the works explore how aromatic landscapes might be captured, translated, or remembered through encounters between human and machine systems.
The body of work was developed between 2023 and 2025 during extended periods in Japan, where I researched contemporary aroma technologies alongside the traditions of incense and Kōdō. A central fascination was the idea of archiving aromas as a form of ‘listening’ — storing olfactory assets that may one day disappear. While in Tokyo, I collaborated with Takasago aroma labs, using Headspace technology to collect aroma molecules and develop a collection of orchid scents from species on the brink of extinction. The process deepened my understanding of how aromas can be captured, stored, and analysed, while raising questions about how disappearing scents might be accessed.
In parallel with my research into contemporary aroma capture, I learned about the Japanese tradition of Kōdō, an ancient practice centred on attentive listening to subtly scented agarwood. Through shared vocabularies, stories, and ritualised encounters, kōdō suggests that scent can be understood not only as a material substance but also through language and narrative. This led me to ask whether, in the absence of the scent itself, words might function as a form of code for remembering an olfactory landscape. In this sense, the exhibition attempts to hold aroma across multiple registers of language, from the scientific to the speculative, and from the material to the poetic.
The works in this exhibition have been supported by Kone Foundation, the Vilho & Olga Linnamo Foundation and Arts Promotion Centre Finland.
Aaro Murphy (1991, Jyväskylä) is a visual artist working between Amsterdam and Helsinki. Working across moving image, sound, and sculpture Murphy creates installations that question boundaries between the organic and synthetic – often exploring wider themes of the body and technology. Murphy’s work has previously been exhibited at Art Rotterdam, Osage Gallery Hong Kong, Bologna.cc, Kunsthalle Turku, Dalston Gallery Tokyo, SOLU and Oude Kerk Amsterdam.
Ida Palojärvi
Knives
Knives are among the first tools made by humans. They interest me both as tools and as weapons. In all their uses, knives can cut, split and carve. They divide matter into smaller parts and transform it. A knife blade works better when it is as thin as possible. Yet as it approaches two-dimensionality, it also becomes more fragile. A tool meant for breaking things apart can itself break.
The knives in both works in the exhibition are made of wax. Wax is inexpensive and can be reshaped repeatedly. It has often been used as an auxiliary material in sculpture, but it has also been used to create works in their own right, such as death masks. It tolerates moisture well and is durable in certain conditions. As a material it is demanding, and attaching it with adhesives is difficult. It is also brittle and breaks easily.
In the first work I have been interested in the blurring and dissolution of the edges of objects. The knives are arranged in clusters and appear to cut into one another. They are difficult to see clearly, as the propellers create a blurred barrier between the knives and the viewer. The motors that turn the propellers react to the viewer’s movement and spin faster as the viewer moves closer to the work. From farther away the propellers’ speed slows down, but at that distance the viewer can no longer see the work clearly.
The second work, located under the staircase, consists of knives that resemble translucent shadows. They hang from red plumb lines cast into the wax. A plumb line is used in construction to determine a vertical line. As a child I imagined that a plumb line (in Finnish: a bullet string) would draw the flight path of a bullet shot from a firearm. In the work, the line passes vertically through the knives and reminds me of a blood vessel or the bloody trajectory of a bullet—one weapon leaving its trace in another.
The exhibition has been supported by the Kone Foundation and Arts Promotion Centre Finland.
Ida Palojärvi graduated from the Academy of Fine Arts, University of the Arts Helsinki with a Master of Fine Arts degree. She lives and works in Helsinki. She examines the edges and shadow areas of perception in her works. She uses spatial elements to both cover and reveal sculptural objects of gaze. She challenges the way of looking at art that is based on the viewer’s ability to observe the work without limitations. Her works are installations built in space that often deal with seeing and observing and their disruption. They involve the viewer and require time, presence and lingering. She has used elements in her works such as fruits, mountain landscapes, gold, salt or flowers that hide behind fog, distance, darkness or physical obstacles. She has held solo exhibitions at, among others, at the Turku Art Hall, HAM Gallery, Galerie Anhava and Huuto Gallery and has participated in group exhibitions, including the Mänttä Art Festival. She is a member artist and curator at Gallery Oksasenkatu 11.
Marloes van Son
Mechanical melody, human hum
Why do we have a hard time appreciating the singing voices of our machines?
Human humming is a soothing sound, associated with safety and relaxation. We hum when we are content, to calm our pets and children, or simply because we like the sound. Humming is created through a form of resonance, air vibrating in the cavities of our skulls. When machines hum, it’s often caused by mechanical vibrations, electric current modulating at harmonic frequencies. Unlike human humming, it’s generally experienced as a nuisance: Humming can be considered a positive term when it relates to humans, but it’s close to the opposite when produced by a machine.
Many of the installations in this exhibition make some kind of sound. Most of it is intentional, but sometimes unexpected noises appear, soft clicks while switching signals, a buzzing motor, a slightly distorted speaker. As the installations include discarded pieces of furniture and broken gadgets that have been repaired or modified, not every aspect can be predicted. By embracing these eccentricities, the objects develop more complex characters. As a whole, this exhibition aims to question how humans develop connections with everyday technological objects and what happens when these objects function differently.
I’m especially interested in the relationships that we form with technological furniture. In the 50s, 60s and 70s, intricate pieces of furniture were created that included built-in record players, radios, stereo systems or telephones. Even though the technology might have become obsolete, the furniture persists and is still in use, although it may have a different function nowadays. Something about these technological pieces of furniture inspires a connection that simple gadgets and non-technological furniture seem to lack. When those break, they’re thrown away and replaced by shiny new versions instead of being repaired or repurposed. Could it be that we care more for our old technological furniture, because it is better at singing?
Back to mechanical melodies: It’s believed that singing together reinforces relationships between humans. So can we form a deeper bond with technological objects if we appreciate their sonic quirks?
The exhibition has been supported by the Finnish Cultural Foundation, Juhani Kirpilän rahasto.
Marloes van Son (b. 1991, The Netherlands) creates sound-objects, instruments and experimental music. Her artistic practice combines electronics, woodwork and sound in varying combinations. Through exhibitions, performances and workshops she explores interactions with everyday appliances and situations. Her interests include connections between humans and technology, repair culture, interface design and combinations of electronics with craftsmanship. She is currently investigating repair as a mechanism for care, aiming towards a more sustainable relationship with our electronic possessions. In this context she creates installations and instruments that re-purpose discarded furniture and technology, while organising workshops where participants explore personal connections with objects through the act of repair.
Van Son received a Master’s degree from Visual Culture and Contemporary Art (Aalto University) in 2017, after completing her Bachelor’s degree from the ArtScience Interfaculty (Royal Academy of Art, The Hague). Originally from the Netherlands, she currently lives and works in Helsinki. She has held solo exhibitions at Galleria Huuto and Galerie AMU (Prague) and a duo exhibition with Alex van Giersbergen at Myymälä2. She has participated in group exhibitions and performed throughout Europe.
www.marloesvanson.nl