He exchanged a photo for sound, the Netherlands for Finland, the comfort of home for Malý Berlín: An interview with Sjors, our resident

Another of the artists who spend time in the Malý Berlín cultural center and create at the same time is Sjors Hoogerdijk. The Dutchman living in Finland works mainly with the sound medium. In the coming days, he is preparing two interesting events. He tells more about them, about himself and his work in the interview.

We’re sitting here in a studio where you work. What are we looking at right now? What kind of projects are you currently working on?

You can see the piece I’m building. It’s an audio installation. It records sound—sometimes voices, sometimes silence—and then plays it back on a loop. What you’re hearing now is the system feeding back into itself.

That’s quite a specific and unusual medium. Can you tell me more about your background and how you ended up working with audio? Not just this piece, but more broadly—how did this become your artistic direction?

I originally studied photography. Even then, I was already doing what you might call “weird” studio photography—constructing scenes, playing with materials, and experimenting a lot with Photoshop and the structure of digital files. Later, when I got into art school, I also started painting. Then I moved into installations with mechanical elements—using motors to create movements, making objects swing or bump into each other in a sort of chain reaction.

Eventually, I became interested in sound. What really struck me was how similar sound is to photography—at least in the way I understand and work with files. In both cases, it’s about capturing and manipulating data, from silence to noise or darkness to light. My first audio works actually involved light sensors: the pitch of the sound would change depending on the amount of light the sensor detected. So when someone walked by, the pitch would shift. It became this semi-interactive experience.

So audio, for you, isn’t completely different from photography or painting—it’s just another way of expressing similar ideas?

Exactly. Even in my photography and painting, I was always interested in technical aspects—revealing the materiality, the texture of paint or the grain of a photo. With audio, I’m doing something similar: I’m trying to reveal the texture of sound, its graininess, its physical presence.

Let’s go back to the beginning. You mentioned you studied photography, but was there a specific moment when you realised, “Yes, sound is going to be my thing”?

Yes, I think that turning point came when I got to know a Norwegian friend of mine, Eirik Rønneberg. He was already deeply involved in noise music and performance art, and he taught me a lot—especially about using sound in a raw, DIY, almost punk way. Around the same time, I was organising shows with friends, inviting bands from across the country. Putting on concerts and creating spaces for people to gather and experience something live came very naturally to me.

Then I started performing noise concerts myself. In those early performances, I’d use a single object to create sound—like a windscreen wiper motor connected to a piece of wood with a contact microphone. I could touch it in different places and get it to “sing” in a way, kind of like a cello. Gradually, I moved toward creating works that didn’t need me to perform them. I wanted them to exist on their own, to allow the audience to engage with them without my presence or explanations.

So the installation becomes self-sufficient—the audience interacts with it directly, without needing you to interpret it for them?

Exactly. I think it’s important that people can encounter a work and come to their own conclusions. They can think it’s crap, or beautiful, or something in between. The point is that they experience it on their own terms, not just through my ideas or descriptions.

When I first came here—few days ago—it reminded me of a parent’s garage. There are so many cables and electrical components everywhere. Can you tell me more specifically what kinds of materials or devices you usually work with in your performances and installations?

Yeah, it does have that garage vibe! I mainly work with electronics—it’s the umbrella term. I started out using things like guitar pedals and contact microphones, which are mics that pick up vibrations from whatever surface or object you attach them to.

But guitar pedals are expensive, fragile, and tend to break, so eventually I started repairing them. That led me to wonder how I could build them myself—and I found all kinds of schematics online. Once I figured out how to make them, I began using them more intentionally in my work.

As I gained experience, I started designing my own circuits, thinking creatively about what I wanted a piece of electronics to do. I began visualising two objects and figuring out what kind of circuitry could go between them—how to transfer sound, how to manipulate it in interesting ways. That kind of thinking became central to how I work.

How would you describe your work—or yourself as an artist—in just one sentence? For example, someone might say, “I’m an adventure photographer.” What would you say?

I usually say I make sound installations or audio installations. But honestly, “installation” is kind of an art historian’s word—it doesn’t really explain much.

A better way to put it would be: I make sculptures that produce sound. Or perhaps I’d say that I’m constantly translating one thing into another. I’ve become quite good at fixing things—figuring out how to tie two elements together, sometimes literally with a piece of rope. That’s still a big part of my process: identifying a relationship between two things and then finding a way—often a clumsy, visible, hands-on way—to make that connection happen.

You’re originally from the Netherlands, but now you live in Finland. That’s quite a distance. What brought you there?

I did my bachelor’s degree in the Netherlands. One of my friends is Finnish, and through her I met my girlfriend—who’s also Finnish. I eventually moved to Finland to be with her and to do my master’s degree. That was over five years ago, and now we’ve really built a community there. It feels like home.

Can you tell me a bit more about your education? You mentioned photography—was that in high school or later?

I started with photography at a vocational school—it wasn’t a traditional university, more like a school focused on practical skills.

So something like an advanced high school?

Yes, exactly. From there, I moved on to an art school, where I began with painting but later returned to more technical work.

And your master’s degree?

After spending a few years working on art projects in the Netherlands I did my master’s in Finland.

And now you are here. I think you’ve been in this residency for about a month, maybe longer? How has it been for you?

I’ll be here for a total of two months, and right now I’ve been here for about five weeks. So yes, we’re getting close to the end. It’s been really nice—I adore the city. I enjoy walking around, watching spring arrive in the parks, and seeing all the different trees bloom.

And it’s been very special for me to be able to fully focus on my work. I’ve tried to structure my time with solid blocks of studio work—spending whole days soldering, reworking old ideas and redesigning things. It’s not about rushing through a project from A to Z, but rather building something with lasting value. Creating a solid foundation for future works.

This isn’t your first residency, right? You’ve done similar programmes before?
Yes, but never one as good as this.

What makes this one better? What’s the biggest difference?
I think it’s the trust they place in the artist. You come in, and they say, “Here’s your space—now work.” There isn’t a rigid schedule or a detailed plan to follow. That kind of freedom is rare.

In contrast, other residencies have been more structured, like art camps. One of the better ones I did was in a repurposed school building in the Dutch countryside. But even then, I was biking back and forth from home, splitting my time between working there on weekends and doing my regular postal job during the week.

So basically, you’d say this place gives you more freedom than usual. You’re not told exactly what to do—you just arrive and create?

Exactly. Which is both exciting and a little intimidating—having no guidelines can feel overwhelming at first.

You’ve got two events coming up—one is an open studio. What can visitors expect when they come next week?

They’ll be able to see the work and interact with it—it is getting close to finished now. Ideally, I’d like them to play around with the pieces, explore them. I’ll be there too, so they can ask me anything, and I’ll explain how things work or what inspired them.

And the workshop?

For the workshop, I want to show people what sound art can be—and how simple it can be. I’ll demonstrate a few different recording methods, different ways of listening and visualising sound…

What will be the main focus? What can people expect to learn or experience if they attend?

I’ll start by explaining what I think sound art is, and I’ll show some examples. Then we’ll try making something ourselves—together. It could be as simple as banging on a table or listening to the inside of a computer using a contact microphone and discovering what kind of sounds it makes.

Basically, I want to introduce people to a different spectrum of sound. It’s about showing how to play with sound, how to explore it creatively.

So would you say it’s more for beginners or people who already have some experience with sound design or sound art?

It’s definitely aimed more at beginners. If someone is already very advanced in sound art, they probably won’t find it that interesting. I really want to start from the basics—what sound art is, what it can be, and how it connects to other art forms.

So it’s a bit like an introductory drawing class, just with sound instead of pencils?
Exactly. A sound sketching class, if you will.

So it’s really for anyone who’s curious—someone who maybe wants to try something new and experiment a little?

Yes, that’s the idea. It’s for people who are open and a bit curious.For those who want to try and learn something new.

Ján Janočko

Photo: Michaela Holota Lehoczká, Laura Soltan