Parasites – amélie samson Reflecting the unsettling nature of the noises that surround us

Organising residencies at Rotondes isn’t just about giving artists optimal working conditions. It’s also the privilege of watching their project evolve in real time.

Last December, Amélie Samson, recipient of the Multiplica grant and of the cross-border residency organised by Rotondes, the City of Metz and Bliiida, arrived with a packed working schedule. In just two weeks, she validated processes she had developed previously, tested a new silicone, recorded sound material with students from the Lycée de Bonnevoie, and began a collaboration with a Luxembourgish musician. All of this was made possible by the residency. Halfway through all this, she took time to sit down with us, surrounded by her creatures, still in the middle of their transformation.

Amélie, you arrived at Rotondes with very concrete elements already in place. Can we go back to the beginning and talk about how Parasites came about?

Amélie Samson: During my master’s degree [National Higher Diploma in Visual Arts Expression at ESAD Orléans, editor’s note], I worked on the theme of attention. That idea stayed with me for several years, more or less in the background. Alongside that, I developed what I called data sculpture: using data to generate forms without turning it into data visualisation. With data sculpture, you can make abstract things physical, tangible, and visible, and people tend to connect with that much more intuitively. One day, I came across sonograms, a type of sound visualisation, and I was struck by how closely they resembled patterns found in living organisms.

The idea for Parasites emerged about a year ago. I was then selected for the 2024 – 25 artist programme at a cultural venue in the Yvelines called Château Éphémère. When I arrived for that first residency, I only had an idea in my head, and I wasn’t even sure it was doable. That month allowed me to test a series of very practical questions. What happens if I generate 3D-printed moulds from sound images I have recorded? Does the result match what I want? Is it possible to pour silicone without it leaking? Is it possible to control airflow to animate these creatures? That residency allowed me to work all of that out.

This new residency at Rotondes is about bringing several strands of work together so I can present the cleanest possible version of the installation. I have now confirmed the processes I will reuse for the final pieces. I have identified specific movements I want to achieve, along with three different internal structures that support those movements. I have also clarified the kind of presence I want the creatures to have. For the skin, I tested a new material, which proved fairly successful. It allowed me to work faster and produced a more durable surface. The trade-off is that it sets much more quickly, which makes colour work more challenging.

All this sculptural work is only the visible surface of the project. Everything starts with sound.

A.: The sound recordings are the foundation. Everything stems from them. I use sonograms to generate the textures of the creatures, which are then reproduced through the 3D-printed moulds.

I began by making recordings myself, but I wanted richer material. For this residency, I proposed working with a younger audience, one that is particularly exposed to the issues I’m addressing in the project: attention, the use of digital technologies, and the way they fragment our focus.

We are organising a workshop in a secondary school to record as many everyday sounds as possible. That includes smartphones and computers, of course, but also coffee machines, vending machines, and all those devices that emit a short beep every time we interact with them. They form the background soundscape of our daily lives. These recordings will also be used to compose the sound environment of the installation.

You are also going to work with a Luxembourgish artist on that aspect.

A.: Yes. Sam Reinard [the Luxembourgish electronic musician known as Ryvage] was recommended by Rotondes, and he immediately understood what I was trying to achieve. He strongly related to the subject. He spoke about his experiences working in open-plan offices, which are, quite simply, a sonic nightmare. If I had searched on my own, I would eventually have found someone, but I doubt I would have met someone so closely aligned with the project.

Meeting people is one of the key advantages of a residency, isn’t it? 

A.: There is this persistent myth of the solitary, inspired artist, and I do not recognise myself in it at all. Research-driven projects move forward through exchange. Here, I constantly go back and forth with Victor and Benjamin [from the Minuit 47 collective, the other recipients of the residency and the Multiplica grant]. I ask for feedback from everyone who comes by, on colours, textures, the scale of the tubes… Relying only on my own perspective would be far too limiting. Discussion keeps the work open.

On a practical level, my personal studio simply is not equipped to support everything I am doing here. Having a full week where I could work on sound and moulds, while simultaneously handling chemical materials in another space, mixing substances, applying colour under UV light, and letting pieces dry without worrying about dust, is a real luxury. These are conditions I rarely have access to, or that would be extremely costly. If I had to rent a space, time pressure would be constant. Here, I can work with far more peace of mind.

Your Parasites give physical form to the noises that surround us and gradually erode our attention. The forms themselves are unsettling, even anxiety-inducing.

A.: That is intentional. The aesthetic is designed to provoke discomfort and even disgust. I want to create both unease and curiosity. When people encounter something that moves, something that appears almost alive, their engagement is far stronger than it would be with a graph on a wall.

I created two versions of the creatures, because people react differently to different kinds of imagery. Some are disturbed by the fleshy, bodily quality, which is clearly visible in the daytime version. Others, particularly those who are uneasy around toxic organisms, are more affected by the fluorescent colours of the night-time version.

My position is obviously pointed: these noises are not a pleasant background to our daily lives. They are intrusive and unsettling. That is why I chose an aesthetic that is deliberately disturbing.