Brand X on Mindshare and Eric Gradman

March 30th, 2010 referencesTags: city, cyborg, machine

A Photo Comic of my installation film: production stills from the shoot of Everything Can and Shall Be Cut

March 10th, 2010 project updatesTags: architexture, body, cyborg, experimental circus, haptic, inanimata, material, photopia, uncanny, visceral

Some stills from the shoot of one of the videos for my new installation “Almost Everything Can and Shall Be Cut”

1. a balloon animal in a helpless position

2. the balloon animal in distress

3. a wig is powerless to keep the scissors at bay

4. the fate of the wig: stuffed in a blender

5. wig, ravaged , posing with its instrument of death

6. the slow decomposition of jello

7. the ice-cubes are handpicked for oblivion

8. a cube of polystyrene foam is tortured with a needle

9. green goo oozes from polystyrene’s wounds

10. a steak is posthumously fed with intraveinous liquid

11. a circuit board fears for its transistors

12. circuit board yields its last colorful breath

13. a pillow besides its own stuffing

14. exposing pillow’s inner flesh

15. the pink heart of pillow’s insides

Sonic and Synesthesia: archaic utopia and toy emotion

February 18th, 2010 researchTags: body, cyborg, espace heureux, experimental circus, immersion, kinetic, maze, music, play, utopia

As a child, I spent hours with my Sega Genesis or (Sega Megadrive, as it was marketed in Europe) developing digital motor reflexes meant to ensure my survival in a colorful 8-bit world. Rolling up in a little ball to zoom through transparent tubes or accelerate and fall in not-quite-Earth-gravity parabolas became second nature. Sonic introduced me to the delights of a sacharine electronic soundtrack that made the hard primary colors of Sonic world’s shimmer and subliminally controlled my minute pushing and pulling of the tiny joystick. Sonic is a masterpiece in synesthetic design: visual, aural and kinetic mesh together to create a re-embodied experience, more akin to telepresence than manipulating an avatar.

Apparently, other fans who still have dreams of pinballing through Sonic levels and have developped an automatic  jump and bounce response to hearing repetitive synth melodies  have posted these walkthroughs of Sonic 1 and 2…a nostalgic flashback to an archaic utopia.

I Heart Tony Oursler II: trapped dolls with little pathetic faces

January 28th, 2010 referencesTags: cyborg, experimental circus, haptic, haunted space, inanimata, trap, uncanny

note to self: when thinking about video art and projection techniques, think SMALL

Photopia or Architexture IV: candied death by Michael Hussar

January 10th, 2010 referencesTags: architexture, body, cyborg, experimental circus, photopia, uncanny, visceral

Is it candy, jewels, or blood? Skin, froth, mother of pearl, or cream? eyes deadened by narcotics, faces decomposing and yet fluffy with sweet, fresh flesh. Michael Hussar puts the texture back in the visual art, using impressionist techniques to create nauseating and irresistible allegories of desire, decay and sugar. Lovably tactile: sticky, soft, smooth, liquid, ticklish,and with the occasionally sharp claw or tooth to remind us of pain.

David Rokeby: n-chant a computer choir and the poetics of randomness

September 25th, 2009 referencesTags: cyborg, database, detournement, haunted space, inanimata, interactive, machine, maze, noise, uncanny

from David Rokeby’s article The Construction of Experience: Interface as Content (1998):

SIMULATED COMPLEXITY
In a similar vein, it’s important to understand the difference between “fractal” complexity and the complexity of life experience. Fractals are fascinating because a rich variety of forms are generated by a single, often simple algorithm. The endless and endlessly different structures of the Mandelbrot set are generated by a single equation addressed in an unusual way. This relationship between the infinite detail of the fractal and its terse mathematical representation is an extreme example of compression. The compression of images, sound and video into much smaller encoded representations is one of the keys of the current multimedia explosion.

Opposed to the incredibly compressible “complexity” of fractals is the complexity of true randomness. Something can be said to be random if it cannot be expressed by anything less than itself… that is to say, it’s incompressible. This rather philosophical notion can be observed in our everyday on-line communication. To move data around quickly and efficiently, we compress it, then send it through a modem that compresses it further. What is left is the incompressible core of the information. As you can hear through your modem when you dial up your internet service provider, the result sounds close to random noise.

Randomness and noise are usually things we avoid, but in the purely logical space of the computer, randomness and noise have proven to be welcome and necessary to break the deadly predictability. But random number generators, used so often to add “human” spice to computer games and computer-generated graphics are not “random” at all. They merely repeats over a fairly long period?a sterile simulation of the real thing.

THE POWER OF RANDOMNESS

…In designing environments for experience, we must remain humble in the face of the power of irresolvable, non-fractal complexity. The computer is an almost pure vacuum, devoid of unpredictability. Computer bugs, while annoying, are never actually unpredictable unless this “vacuum” fails, as when the hardware itself overheats or is otherwise physically damaged. This vacuum is extremely useful, but it’s no place to live.

When I started working with interactive systems I saw the “vacuum” of the computer as the biggest challenge. I developed “Very Nervous System” as an attempt to draw as much of the universe’s complexity into the computer as possible. The result is not very useful in the classical sense, but it creates the possibility of experiences which in themselves are useful and thought-provoking, particularly by making directly tangible that what is lost in over-simplification.

Noise II: “…a wiry noise, with single barbs projecting, sharp edges running along it and submerging again and clear notes splintering off – flying and scattering”.

September 24th, 2009 researchTags: body, cyborg, haptic, kinetic, machine, music, noise, shock, space, time, visceral

Peter Bailey in Breaking the Sound barrier quotes Robert Musil on the ‘sonic shrapnel’ produced by the motor car: “…a wiry noise, with single barbs projecting, sharp edges running along it and submerging again and clear notes splintering off – flying and scattering”. Two synesthetic attributes stand out in this remarkable description. First, there are haptic qualities to the noise, translated in terms of texture: how the sound would feel (“wiry”) if you could probe / test it with your fingers, in effect uncovering an auditory topology by using the body as contact surface with the sound (“sharp edges running along it”). Then, Musil recognizes the noise’s kinetic attributes: the sound is in a continuous process of shattering, “flying and scattering”, throwing its components into the world (into the ear) like so many projectiles.

As Bailey notes, sound is vibration (“palpable”) – a series of minute but tangible displacements of matter. Unlike light with its strictly scopic / analytic affordances, the flow of sound modifies physical reality, rearranges the world. As such, the haptic domain – texture – already contains the possibility of sound; noise starts to exist when it can extend itself kinetically, across a spatial and temporal axis, when it becomes a conductor for change and entropy. Musil’s rapprochement between hearing and touch alerts us to the fact that sound unfolds in space concomitantly with its unfolding in time: it travels, working on the body as much as on consciousness.

Consequently, Noise (meaning sound in its raw form, an amalgamation and meshing of vibrations not synched into discrete units of order) seems to have an intimate relationship with affect that expresses itself in the body, namely (Bailey argues) laughter and terror / the instinct to flee-fight. Both of these proto-emotions (or simply motions) are brought together to powerful effect in the tradition Bailey calls “rough music”: “rough music was excessive, repetitive and sustained noise, combining high spirits with a sadistic edge”. Participating equally in a Bakhtinian culture of carnival and a history of institutionalized insanity (Bailey disarticulates the etymology of “bedlam” as the hubbub of the Bedlam inmates), rough music is produced for social purposes of ritual or regulation. Interestingly, Attali links music to the sacrifice of noise and its appendage of violence on the altar of (social, scientific) order. From there, one realizes that to listen to “rough music” is to witness noise coagulating into music or inversely, music decaying into noise – an exhilarating experience of liminality, teetering between forgetfulness (chaos) and culture.

Rough music has many splendid contemporary descendants (Noise, the more distorted forms of techno), thanks to the industrial revolution and the musical avant-garde that sought to rehabilitate or take control over the kind of sonic environment produced by the accelerated motion/collisions of more bodies and machines. The “future sound” that John Cage celebrates highlights the same attributes that Robert Musil discovered in sounds of technology: texture and kinetic force. Cage discusses these as “overtone structure” and “percussion music”, respectively.

“The special function of electrical instruments will be to provide complete control of the overtone structure of tones and to make these tones available in any frequency, amplitude and duration”: overtones are what gives each instrument its particular timbre i.e. the sonic texture that differentiates a violin from a piano; certainly electronic and digital music take advantage of the fact that they can give voice to an infinity of imaginary instruments, in effect to an uncategorizable cacophony of overtones. Allied to the emphasis on “percussion” (“a contemporary transition from keyboard-influenced music to the all-sound music of the future”), Cage’s future sound heralds key components of contemporary rough music in this evocation of tonal din and “repetitive noise” (repetition being primarily structured by beats/percussion). Compared to its 18th century manifestation, Noise engages the confused ear in the gears of a machine in order to better manufacture its violent/euphoric interface with the body.

Derive and Detournement: call back to situationism

June 4th, 2009 referencesTags: ambiance, city, cyborg, derive, detournement, experimental circus, flaneur, haptic, modernity, nomad, play, situationism, space, utopia

These texts and clips had me thinking about the relationship between the modernist concern with contingency (starting with the ubiquitous presence of photographic arts from the early 20th century onwards) and the movement of situationism as it flourished in the late 50s and 60s – I see another line or relationship between the flaneur, the nomad, the cyborg and the situationist as precursors of immersive arts/installations practitioners…immersion is basically the design of playful space.

Debord advised drifters to allow themselves to be guided by those features of the street neglected by most pedestrians, like “the sudden change of ambiance in a street within the space of a few meters” and the “path of least resistance which is automatically followed in aimless strolls (and which has no relation to the contour of the ground)”. the determinants of drift, apparently, were alternations in emotional and ambient intensity; “the appealing or repelling characters of certain places”; and the drifter’s tendency to “drain” along relatively unresistant paths, “the fissures in the urban network”. The Lettrist International even “envisaged a pinball machine arranged in such a way that the play of the lights and the more or less predictable trajectories of the balls” would represent the “thermal sensations and desires of people passing by the gates of the Cluny Museum around an hour after sunset in November,” as though drifters were like ball bearings, propelled through the city’s channels by the energized “pins” of the unities of ambiance.

Simon Sadler, The Situationist City

CYBORGS: the uncanny reconfiguration of space

April 2nd, 2009 researchTags: Anthony Vidler, architecture, body, cyborg, Donna Haraway, haunted space, machine, mapping, uncanny

Diller and Scofidio's "Blur building"

Texts:

Anthony Vidler, The Architectural Uncanny

Giuliana Bruno, Atlas of Emotion: Journey in Art, Architecture and Film

Donna Haraway, A Cyborg Manifesto

Vidler uses the cyborg as a useful metaphor to map out the contemporary direction of the relation between the theory and practice of architecture. The issues Vidler addresses, specifically regarding the history of the question of how spaces are perceived as (and designed as) places of human habitation, and how this search is dogged by the irruption of modernism and its sense of the uncanny/the failure of a sense of “dwelling”, are pragmatic issues oriented towards the design/creation of space and therefore open up a point of view very different from Lefevre’s, De Certeau’s, and Harvey’s focus on the experience of the inhabitant/the consumer. Contra Lefevre’s and de Certeau’s understanding of “abstract” space (designed, top down space, planned space) as something that must be contested and re-imagined by the user, Vidler reveals a much more complex mechanism of how different spaces (concrete, as well as imagined/idealized) can produce different subjectivities/bodies.

In the process, he creates a historical mapping of a phenomenology of space, starting with the rise of a modernist “eye” and its bisection of space into a positivist space, regularized by routine, mapped with reference points, knowable, and a “repressed”, uncanny space that emerges out of the woodwork when we lay down our guard/our epistemological grid – a secret, elusive space characterized by the phantom presence of an “other”. Vidler argues that this “haunting” is generated by a sense of the loss of a more complete or satisfying “original” space, one that would constitute a more real or more proper dwelling for its human inhabitants – wherefore a common nostalgia for the topos of childhood, architectural attempts to recreate atavistic, womb-like environments, or, on the other extreme, to invent a new mode of transparent, frictionless habitation (le Corbusier). All these creative and theoretical responses to the haunting of the reified, given spaces of modernity speak to a desire to align the human body with a spatial body, human interiority with an exteriorized space of imagination. According to Vidler, the history of modernist architecture is a series of attempts to build better homes, spaces that can properly connect subjectivity with the world.

The cyborg, and postmodernity invert this utopian search for dwelling. The nature of the cyborg, the new inhabitant of the present-future is not to dwell in a place (or to yearn for a lost art of dwelling) but to build/reconfigure/tinker (bricolage)/invent a body for herself that can plug into the multiple valences of her environment. Rather than occupying a home, the cyborg consumes space, collecting/archiving the content of a conflated material/virtual realm, “establishing a host of half-completed, half-broken refracted lines between mechanical objects and organic subjects”. Giuliana Bruno’s discussion of the “eye-mouth” as an epistemic organ for the visualization/understanding/devouring of (material and cinematic) space is particularly relevant to Vidler’s discussion of the cyborg as a subjectivity that assimilates space and the world it contains within the hitherto (theoretically) inviolable boundaries of her own body, in the process metamorphosizing into a sort of human Aleph. As a site of multiplicity i.e. multiple spaces, the body of the cyborg represents the anti-fulfillment of the modernist search for a lost unity or wholeness, instead premising the uncanny, the fractured, the heterogeneous as that which is fundamentally familiar and “natural” (in the way Haraway understands nature as a total environment encompassing human and non-human). In this sense, the cyborg symbolizes the attempt to theorize away from the endless quests for reconciliation that characterize modernism, to mobilize our energies into living in/with contemporary space and time rather than remembering/anticipating a proper home for subjectivity, paradoxically by presenting us with a superhuman or hybrid, posthuman ideal/ideality.

This mystical embracing of the postmodern condition, and its rejection of the anxiety infecting the modernist project, finds an echo in Edward Soja’s notion of Thirdspace and his attempt to envision space as an (infinite) potentiality rather than the sum of its parts (the literal space systematically produced by capitalism). In both cases it seems necessary to tease out whether these concepts express something more concrete than simply the movement of flight from failed (modernist) constructs.