Donald de Decker (ddd) is a visual artist and graphic designer originally from Brussels. At the heart of his work lies the Acousma project, which emerged from his encounter with acousmatic music and has gradually evolved into an exploration of the concept of “modulating reproducibility”—an open system in which forms evolve without an absolute original. His works, created digitally and also distributed via NFTs, explore the relationship between variation, authenticity, and space, questioning how an image can be perceived almost as a sonic experience.
In this interview, Donald de Decker discusses the project’s origins, the transition from digital compositions to future physical installations, the role of black and white in his research, and his reflections on the value of art in the age of digital reproducibility. A journey that combines theoretical rigor and visual experimentation, without resorting to artificial intelligence as a creative tool. De Decker works as a freelance graphic designer, collaborating with clients in the cultural, private, and institutional sectors. His background spans the arts (literature, film, music, dance, photography) and design (textiles, graphic design, architecture), and he has experience in the events industry, advertising, and even the healthcare sector.
GL. Donald, how did your project come about, and why?
DDD. The Acousma project is part of the artistic journey that has led to my professional growth. I was trained in the visual, plastic, and spatial arts, with a focus on graphic design, and I’ve been working as a freelance graphic designer for over fifteen years. Alongside this work, I’ve always felt it was essential to maintain a more experimental and personal line of inquiry. For a long time, this line of inquiry remained low-key and fragmented, manifesting itself in experiments, intuitions, or attempts that remained unfinished. Among these experiments, a line of research dating back to my studies at the ERG (School of Graphic Research) gradually proved to be particularly fruitful. In my view, this exercise, linked to acousmatic music, addressed both formal issues and a more theoretical reflection on composition. The connection to acousmatic music thus played a decisive role in the project’s genesis. It served as a starting point, a stimulus that allowed me to direct and structure my initial intuitions. Over time, this research evolved into the Acousma project, whose core lies not solely in this musical reference but in the concept of “modulating reproducibility,” which now structures the entire body of work.
What is acousmatic music, and how does it interact with your art?
Acousmatic music is a musical genre made possible by electroacoustic techniques. Sounds are recorded, transformed, and composed in the studio, then diffused into space via spatialization devices (Acousmonium). Originally conceived for listening detached from any visible sound source, it aims to foster more acute attention and encourage the listener to construct mental images. In my work, this relationship is reversed: today, it is no longer a matter of producing images from sound, but rather of suggesting a form of listening through a composition. All of this thus becomes a medium for perceptual projection, inviting the viewer to reflect on their own ability to “listen” to an image, to perceive a sonority within it. A process of visual exploration, through the use of line, aims to bring out a sensation of vibration within the compositions, helping to stimulate this type of perception. This approach, therefore, does not strictly fall within musical practice, but rather involves a transposition and interpretation of acousmatic principles into the field of the visual arts.
Can you explain the concept of “modulating reproducibility”?
The forms are conceived as transformable structures, evolving matrices, capable of generating a multiplicity of states, without any of these manifestations being considered original or derivative. This logic of modulation is based on a set of operations (cropping, resizing, distortion, deformation, addition, or merging) that, individually or in combination, allow new compositions to emerge from one or more initial matrices. It is part of a dynamic of systematic exploration, in which the multiplication of variations produces compositions, constantly altering their state. It also draws on certain principles of acousmatic music, where sounds are composed, recorded on a medium, and then redistributed in space according to different configurations. This mode of dissemination does not aim solely to reproduce the work, but to offer an interpretation of it. The spatialization of sound thus confers upon it a renewed perceptual dimension. Through these processes, Acousma challenges the tension between reproducibility and singularity, proposing forms capable of modulation while maintaining a distinct identity within an open generative system. This research contributes to an aesthetic of variation pushed to its extreme limit, where forms, subjected to these processes of reconfiguration, tend toward states of densification or reduction, potentially leading to compositions that reach extreme thresholds, between saturation and erasure. The goal is therefore to explore the conditions under which this system can evolve to the point of testing its limits.
So far, we’ve seen digitally created projects. How do you plan to develop your work?
The project initially took shape in a digital environment, which offers an ideal space for experimentation and dissemination. The digital works—presented as photographic simulations and distributed via NFTs—constitute the project’s first manifestation. They represent its foundational version, preceding the physical developments, and are part of an artistic process that combines vector drawing, algorithmic manipulation, and digital composition. Today, I am gradually exploring the possibilities for the physical materialization of these forms. This phase involves experimenting with different production methods, techniques, media, and exhibition contexts. The issue lies not only in the transposition of a digital work into a physical object, but also in how these compositions can exist in different ways, depending on how they are presented, and how they unfold across various media.
So far, your work has been exclusively in black and white. Why this choice?
Black serves as a starting point: an operational foundation that allows for testing the structure and coherence of the forms. It unifies the system and plays a stabilizing role. From this foundation, the forms are modulated and inscribed within the concept of “modulating reproducibility.” It acts as a perceptual intensifier, reinforcing the presence of the compositions and revealing a more immediate structural tension. This chromatic space activates associative mechanisms and fosters a more intuitive reading, thereby opening up a zone of referential ambiguity that can trigger a symbolic charge in the viewer. This symbolic charge is neither conceived nor constructed in advance. I do not necessarily recognize the associations of ideas that the compositions may evoke. Through these images, I perceive graphic operations derived from principles that encode a certain aesthetic. During the creative process, these operations partly guide the formal expression. The project encompasses a space between my artistic sensibilities and the autonomy of the system. Ultimately, the process dictates certain elements.
The images in your projects often have environmental dimensions that seem to suggest specific relationships with the spaces in which they appear. How do spatial—and, consequently, temporal—dimensions come into play in your work?
Temporality resides not only in the viewer’s experience but in the very becoming of these structures, in their capacity to appear different depending on the context. Acousma seeks to observe how a composition modifies its own presence based on the conditions in which it is situated. A single composition can exist as a digital image, a monumental print, a sculpture, an installation, an animation, or a painting. Space can therefore be considered a modulation capable of transforming the mode of interpretation and the temporality of the visual matrix itself. Each transposition from one medium to another causes the composition to evolve through a cycle of reinterpretations, generating successive losses and gains. The digital presentation of the compositions through photographic simulations constitutes one of these modulations and is not limited to being a mere tool for dissemination. Traditionally, the artwork exists first in physical space before being photographed, distributed, and digitally archived. Here, the compositions appear in the digital environment even before they materialize physically. The digital realm no longer merely documents the artwork; it becomes its primary mode of existence. The digital image ceases to be a representation of a pre-existing object and asserts itself as a state of form, a “visual hypothesis.” Other types of modulations reveal temporalities already latent in the initial structure. A cropping, for example, brings to light a space for interpretation already contained within a composition. This transformation can induce the compression, expansion, or suspension of time. An area previously perceived as a detail is thus revealed as a composition in its own right. These elements, however, cover only a part of the relationships with space and temporality that run through the project. They seemed to me the most appropriate to share initially.
Do you use NFT technology? Does this also apply to the sale of these images?
Yes, the entire digital collection is available on OpenSea. I’ve been interested in NFTs primarily because of the ambiguity they introduce around the concepts of rarity and authenticity in an environment intrinsically linked to duplication. This ambiguity echoes some of the issues raised in Acousma regarding reproducibility, variation, and the status of the “original.” These questions are particularly thought-provoking when they challenge and create tension with our habitual ways of thinking about uniqueness, copying, or authenticity in the field of art.
I’d like to ask you to explore the issue of authenticity further and share your interests in this regard.
The question of authenticity interests me to the extent that it intersects with that of the original. However, it is the “evolving” nature of our conception of the original that captures my attention. The criteria by which a work is recognized as an “original” have continually evolved throughout art history. From this perspective, the status of the original strikes me as a designation whose contours can be redefined according to historical, technical, legal, cultural, and institutional contexts. Art history offers numerous examples demonstrating how these criteria are constructed and solidified through established conventions. In the field of sculpture, multiple castings of the same bronze can be recognized as original works when they meet certain conditions. In France, up to eight numbered castings—to which artist’s proofs may be added—are generally considered originals. The classification of a work as an original is therefore based not only on its material uniqueness but also on the limited edition size and the production process, both of which are regulated by specific legal frameworks. Graphic art, photography, and lithography have also demonstrated that a work can be reproduced while retaining its status as an original. Marcel Duchamp’s ready-mades, Andy Warhol’s silkscreen prints, and certain forms of generative art have, in their own way, supplanted the concept of the original. As for authenticity, cases of forgeries considered authentic highlight the role of mechanisms of validation, expertise, provenance, and institutional recognition in its construction. Today, NFTs contribute to a reconfiguration of some of these mechanisms, introducing new technical procedures for certification and traceability. The way these concepts are interpreted over time thus reveals the tensions in how we think about the work of art, its reproduction, and its value. In Acousma, these tensions can manifest as structural effects of the modulation process taken to extremes.
Do you use artificial intelligence to create your images?
The compositions are the result of personal artistic interventions and are not based on artificial intelligence programs.
The author of this article: Gabriele Landi
Gabriele Landi (Schaerbeek, Belgio, 1971), è un artista che lavora da tempo su una raffinata ricerca che indaga le forme dell'astrazione geometrica, sempre però con richiami alla realtà che lo circonda. Si occupa inoltre di didattica dell'arte moderna e contemporanea. Ha creato un format, Parola d'Artista, attraverso il quale approfondisce, con interviste e focus, il lavoro di suoi colleghi artisti e di critici. Diplomato all'Accademia di Belle Arti di Milano, vive e lavora in provincia di La Spezia.Warning: the translation into English of the original Italian article was created using automatic tools. We undertake to review all articles, but we do not guarantee the total absence of inaccuracies in the translation due to the program. You can find the original by clicking on the ITA button. If you find any mistake,please contact us.