When Amélie Bouvier first stumbled across early twentieth century astronomical photographic plates with hand drawn notations, they reminded her of sheet music.

The ancient Greek philosopher Pythagoras suggested that if objects in motion produce sound, planetary bodies must surely reverberate throughout the universe. When, centuries later, Johannes Kepler discovered that planets move in elliptical paths at different speeds, what had once been conceived of as a single celestial chord became a song.

The Quadrivium series is Bouvier’s first foray into garnering sound from images of the stars. Its title draws from the final volume of Kepler’s 1619 publication Harmonice Mundi (Harmonies of the World), in which he tries to grasp the divine music of the spheres using Boethius’s principles of the quadrivium, or the combined study of geometry, mathematics, music, and astronomy. Kepler proposes a model of the solar system based on geometrically and musically harmonic proportions.

Using telescopic images gathered from the Observatoire Astronomique Antoine Thomas in Namur, Bouvier began translating constellations into musical notes – in Quadrivium III, the Swan Constellation (Cygnus) is transposed into laser perforations on an illuminated paper cylinder, which rotates steadily with the help of a small motor. As light from the cut-out stars meets with photoresistors, they transform into notes spanning two octaves. A thin, disjointed line crosses the paper, the trace of a satellite recorded by the telescope – a little bit of noise, a human presence joining the cosmic composition.