Geschützt: Activating the polyphonic archive

Could you walk us through your project and the core ideas that shaped its development?

The Songkeeper’s Ledger is a blockchain-based cultural consent ledger paired with an AI musical instrument (Běbìi Engine). I recorded 37 hours of Baka polyphonic music with full community consent. The ledger makes attribution permanent and transparent. The AI learns from those voices and responds to live saxophone in real time – turning passive archiving into active, performable dialogue.

What drew you to work with blockchain structures in this project, and what new possibilities did this medium open up for you?

Blockchain offered permanent, tamper-proof attribution – something traditional databases cannot guarantee. It allows the Baka community to retain sovereignty over their digital sonic twins. The ledger makes consent visible and unchangeable. It turns a legal promise into a technical fact, which opens the door for communities to license or control their cultural data in ways that were previously impossible.

At what stage did blockchain become essential to your process, and were there moments when its use felt limiting, excessive, or conceptually challenging?

Blockchain became essential when I realized that even with a signed charter, there was no technical way to enforce attribution once audio files left the community. The challenge is user-friendliness – most Baka elders are not tech-literate. I had to build a simple interface on which they could see their names on a ledger without understanding cryptography. That friction forced me to design for real people, not just ideal systems.

How did the residency shape your practice? Could you reflect on what you learned and how exchanges with fellow participants influenced your work?

The residency pushed me from a solo researcher into a community of artists working at the edge of technology and ethics. Conversations with Laura Fong Prosper (archive politics) and beatnyk (generative dissonance) helped me see that my ledger is not just a tool – it is a statement about who gets to own history. I learned to trust my voice and to let the technology serve the story, not the other way around.

What frictions, constraints, or questions were you aiming to explore or challenge through this project?

I wanted to challenge the extractive default of AI training – scrape first, ask later. The friction is real – building a consent–based dataset takes years, not minutes. I also explored the question: Can blockchain serve a non-capitalist, community-centered purpose? The ledger does not tokenize or monetize. It simply records. That restraint is the whole point: some things should be visible, not valuable

How do you envision the trajectory of your project beyond the residency period?

The Běbìi Engine will become a live performance tool. I will perform with it on stage – saxophone and AI choir in real-time dialogue. The ledger will expand to include other endangered musical traditions. I also plan to release an open-source version of the consent framework so other communities and artists can build their own ethical AI instruments without starting from zero.

What are your thoughts on the project’s long-term sustainability – both in technical terms and within a broader social or cultural context?

Technically, the RAVE models and blockchain need ongoing maintenance. I am building a small, decentralized team to handle updates. Socially, sustainability depends on the Baka community remaining in control. The charter is legally binding, but true sustainability means the community benefits – whether through performances, royalties, or cultural recognition. That is a long march, but the ledger keeps us accountable.

Barbara Cueto conducted this interview in collaboration with Sarah Donderer (Solitude Digital Cultures)