Seventh New York Digital Salon || Artists' Statements

Leonardo

Artists' StatementsSource: Leonardo, Vol. 32, No. 5, Seventh New York Digital Salon (1999), pp. 457-463Published by: The MIT PressStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/1576831 .

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Artists' Statements

Artificial Time, 1998-99 Ana Giron

Interactive telerobotic installation driven by Web input

IVI_^ ^ Iuch of modern life has come to depend on the accurate measurement of time. _ l^^^^^ ,^With the development of the cesium atomic clock, we can now keep time to an accuracy

of one millionth of a second per year. This clock is so accurate that it is more precise than the earth's rotation in measuring the passing of a year. As technology has developed, we have intervened in nature's timekeeping process with the ultimate goal of improving on its

perceived imperfections. In so doing, we have abstracted our sense of time from nature.

Artificial Time is an interactive telerobotic installation for the Web that explores our

concepts of and relationship to time. A robotic arm, which consists of an armature with a

halogen light source on the end, is connected to the Web and acts as a light source that revolves above a sundial. By controlling the movement of the robotic arm, one will be able to control the shadow on the sundial, thereby controlling the representation of time.

The sundial represents a contrast of current technology with past technology and an

_^^^Hr ^^B^^^^R organic awareness of time in a purely mechanical and artificial environment. My "sun"

provides 24 hours a day of sunlight, rain or shine, with computer-driven precision. Because the sundial is dependent on location in terms of latitude and longitude posi-

tion, it becomes a metaphor for location on the Web, a mapping out of different time zones and a sense of place. Our modern clocks dictate the pace of our lives. The precise measurements lead to a tightly scheduled day of hours and minutes. The imprecision of a sundial proposes a different pace; events are scheduled to the hour rather than to minutes. With the coming of the new millennium and the growing importance our modern society places on the measurement of time, it seems appropriate to rethink our relationship to time and propose alternatives to our present system.

A video camera transmits the image of the sundial on the Web. While multiple viewers can see the sundial, only one person at a time can have access to the robotic arm, which is timed to one minute. There is a different interface to the arm depending on whether you are influencing the arm or just observing. When one gains control of the arm, the time and location set on one's computer is sent to the server, which will position the robot

accordingly. Others who are connected at that time will be able to see the location of the

controller as well as the initial time they connected. A second window with a time map is also part of the Web site. It is a record of the last

24 connection times drawn in shades of gray from black to white, where the last connection is in white. Eventually it will also include a map of time zones or locations. The default time on the dial is the local time of its physical location.

The project will be installed at a gallery or space, as it is being manipulated remotely. Only those present at the gallery can see the actual source of light. The entire application is written in Java. It requires a Web server computer (preferably a Windows NT or Linux

box) and a second computer serving up the video images (PC or Mac). The total space required is around seven ft. square.

All Artists' Statements are ? 1999 by the respective artists. LEONARDO, Vol. 32, No. 5, pp. 457-463, 1999 457



Prima Materia, 1999 Timothy Weaver

On-line animated interface

fA s a visual artist, I create testimonial objects and immersive environments as a means

of personally recalling events and phenomena that are subject to collective cultural, histor-

ical, and spiritual amnesia. My desire is to induce viewers into remembering (and forget-

ting) their perceptions regarding how we got where we are, what we may have lost along the way, and potentially where we need to go.

Prima Materia is an on-line work whose content is technically accessed through an ani-

mated interface to a collection of navigable VR poetry passages. The visual and textual

content of these passages is rooted in the alchemical concept of the prima materia-the

common chaotic "prime matter" from which all elements are elevated. The alchemists

described the prima materia as "our chaos" that resulted from the fall of Lucifer and

Adam. The alchemists' chosen task of elevating this raw essence to the state of a divine

material was equivalent to returning the fallen back to paradise. Although the material was

said to be omnipresent for those with the eye to recognize it, the alchemical myth also said

it resided deep in the core of sacred mountains.

Despite the transmutation of alchemy into contemporary science, this chaotic resource

remains a necessary point of departure for creativity. The white noise of disorder that fre-

quently envelops our lives needs to be looked upon as a malleable entity that must be folded

back on itself for regeneration. The possibilities of bringing the prima materia together as a

positive collaborative element are only limited by our willingness to experiment with our cre-

ative imaginations beyond the partitions of esthetic and technical isolation.

Six visual and textual VR poetry passages make up the Prima Materia site through a

Shockwave Flash 3 animated interface. The content of each of the individual passages- oriente, catalyst, curandero, asphalt, brownian motion, and oxidation-are interactively navi-

gable using Quick Time VR and Quick Time 3 or 4.

458 Digital Salon, Artists' Statements



The CyberRosary, 1999 Loretta Skeddle

Interactive installation

orking in the field of computer maintenance, I am increasingly aware of the social and commercial role that computers play within human society. I am curious about the day-to-day interface between humans and their computers, and speculate about how this relationship will progress.

As an artist I think it is important to be aware of my medium

and to consider how it will affect my work. My strongest work

reflects its medium, but for an artist working with technology it is

difficult to avoid the temptation to use technology as a gimmick. In many ways technology is interesting in its own right, and often

the viewers of computer art want to know "how'd you do that?"

A strong piece will inspire the viewer to ask more questions than "how does it work?" It will encourage the viewer to look at

something in a different light or from a new angle, or to look at

something that they have never looked at before.

The piece that I am presenting is an interactive installation

called The CyberRosary. The CyberRosary is a small network of

Macintosh computers that represents a prayer group. One of the

computers is the prayer leader, and the rest are participants. The

digital prayer group speaks the prayers of the rosary in chorus.

There is a space at the participant level for a human user. This user

has a kneeler and a tactile interface. The interface is a string of

rosary "beads" made of push-button switches, which can send mes-

sages about pacing and linearity to the prayer leader. A user enter-

ing the space can join in the prayers or just observe. The human

participant communicates his or her progress to the prayer leader

by squeezing a bead on the tactile interface.

The CyberRosary takes advantage of the basic design of a com-

puter as a data-processor as well as of the cultural aura of the com-

puter as a mystical entity. The piece is based on the Macintosh

operating system, which is a comfortable and "user-friendly" system that tends not to be intimidating. It takes some of the Macintosh's

built-in abilities, like networking and serial data-processing, and

embellishes on them. The piece also relies on the idea of a sentient

computer found in science fiction and Artificial Intelligence (AI). As computers continue to pervade our civilization, we must

contemplate the repercussions of our technological advances. Con-

sidering the possibility of a sentient computer, and the history of

human colonizing and evangelizing, it would be a natural route for

humans to "bring computers to God." Given the popular trends

toward regarding computers as autonomous agents and replacing humans with computers, it requires only a small conceptual leap to

think of teaching a computer to pray, or at least programming it to

speak the words of prayer aloud.

and salutations associated with the rosary. A computer could

repeat hundreds of rosaries in the time it would take me to com-

plete one. It can choose the set of mysteries that correspond to the

date, step through the prayers in the proper order, and even recite

them aloud.

Once taught to go through the motions, the computer is

arguably praying. If it is in fact praying, it is then necessary for

users to determine whether the computer is praying for them or

for itself. If the computer is praying for itself, then one wonders if

God is likely to respond. Perhaps this makes the programmer an

evangelist-a missionary bringing the word of God and the teach-

ings of the Catholic Church to the pagans. The CyberRosary has a very practical aspect, but it also has a

controversial and confrontational aspect. The offense that some

viewers might take to The CyberRosary depends upon many vari-

ables. The viewer's religious background, definition of prayer,

comprehension of the role of computers in society, and perception of the piece as a discourse are merely a few of these.

It is my hope that the piece will encourage a discourse about

the role of computers in religion and about the possibility of reli-

gion for computers.

Computers were designed to process repetitive and prescripted tasks, and are well equipped to churn out the hundreds of prayers

Digital Salon, Artists' Statements 459



The Kiss, 1999 Sabina Daley

Interactive Web site

The desire for connectedness is the foundation for computer networking technologies. As of today there are over 40 million Web sites, all waiting to be clicked. The story of The Kiss (www. 1 am.org) is echoed in many of the Web sites out there today. It is a story about

bridging distances and making connections. It documents how technology has changed human perception of how we locate ourselves and our environments in terms of space- time geography where distance = time/information.

You can choose to travel out to the Furthest Distance within The Kiss. On your way there, the Web site addresses how technology has changed human perception of distance and location within the space-time geography of the telecommunications space. A mix of

text, images, and sound is used to convey the dialectic of presence and absence, near and

far, as the user journeys through the site areas, which work as a whole to articulate what constitutes distance and closeness in our communications technologies.

Within telecommunications, closeness = speedy information and rich transmission. The faster we send and receive our information, the stronger our connection; hence we are close.

When you enter The Kiss, you are greeted by Maya, Director of Dissemination, as she kills time in Kansai, sipping on sake at the airport bar in Concourse B. You and Maya are

together, telepresent within the virtual space of the Web site, but you are also physically located at remote computer terminals. You are "here and there." Simultaneously you explore abstract electronic space while remaining stationed in concrete reality.

When journeying in The Kiss, as in all our telecommunications, our whole experience of "being there" changes. Through remote interaction, we have no definite spatial position. The distance between two points no longer equals their spatial separation but rather the travel time between them. How do we define what is near or far when someone is just a phone call away?

As I sit at this terminal, information is beginning to flood my screen. There is nothing, no space, no material object to slip into my pocket, yet it exists all the same. The information communicates a presence and an identity. It has a face.

To get a good look at this face, to learn the sense of presence the information offers,

you need a clear connection. The face of information looks best only at the highest of fre-

quencies, when it is moving at maximum speed. In the transmitting and processing of




thousands of signals, we access our information at a distance, using machines to see, hear, and spread our messages. By pushing efficiencies up to maximum connectivity, we get

closer, shrinking the expanse of entire

continents to the speed in which we

send and receive our messages. But what happens when we are

moving so fast and then crash, when we fall into dead disconnect?

It happens in The Kiss. As distances

are bridged, there is also the chance

that the technology fails to connect. Just as we become closer through networked global linkages, we are

equally vulnerable. "Crash is central to our time . . . it keeps us at the

edge of instability by the fragility of our new space, the space which has a deep bottom far below us all" [1].

Areas of The Kiss are under a siege of static. Maya meets us there and asks us to help her rebuild connections before the network crashes and loses control. Through a visitor's

exploration of the site, Maya gains access to the network and is able to plug in a special connective code necessary to rebuild the connection-the kiss frequency. Maya adds the kiss into the global satellite network to bring us that much closer.

A pivotal change is occurring in the dynamics of culture. Preoccupied as we are with achieving seamless connection at every distance while using our telecommunications tools, we are locked in an embrace with our telephone, modem, television. Yet many of us are at

the risk of cutting off the "I HERE NOW" of the immediate present. "The present is either too impersonal, too looming, or too alienating compared to the intimate and direct

experience of contact" [2] in real time. The environment simply serves as a concept as we

spend our free hours enthralled in media, avoiding contact with reality. In our media-generated comfort, there is the threat that as we get closer to the distant,

we become passively disconnected from the demands of the present. As we shift our focus to real time, we are killing present time. By removing ourselves from the here and now, in

favor of an alternate version of "here," we cut off relations to our immediate environment.

Maya's kiss is a reminder that the underlying value is connectedness to the very necessity of the present.

At the end of our journey through The Kiss, Maya shuts down her communication, and we are left alone, facing a black screen. At that moment, we are not connected, close, but back at our computer terminals, stationed in our geography of material bodies and

objects with weight you can hold. There are no longer screens like lips, yet we are left with the question The Kiss whispers. What constitutes close? Maya adds the kiss frequency into our telecommunication networks to remind us that our connections are to each other rather than to our technology.

References 1. Mark Poster, "The Crash State," in Crash: Nostalgia for the Absence of Cyberspace, Robert Reynolds and Thomas Zummer, eds. (New York: Thread Waxing Space, 1994) p. 20.

2. Susan Stewart, On Longing: Narratives of the Miniature, the Gigantic, the Souvenir, the Collection (Durham, NC: Duke Univ. Press, 1993) p.139.




sand:stone, 1999 Synthetic Characters Group,

MIT Media Laboratory Interactive installation

Inspiration Throughout history, sand and stones have been a means of communication. Long for-

gotten as a technology, these aboriginal media are revitalized by our installation sand:stone.

A Meditative Space This installation creates a space with virtual and physical components. Our virtual

world is inhabited by a cast of autonomous characters representing the four elements-

fire, earth, air, water.

The physical space is dominated by a garden of stones and sand and by a projected view into the virtual world. Participants in the installation arrange the stones in the sand; their arrangement influences the ambience-mood and music-of the virtual world.

This music is "heard" both by the elemental creatures and by the participants in the space. Each creature responds to a certain musical theme that inspires its mood and behavior.

This work embraces cinema and cave painting, artificial life and life in the tribe, the

granularity of pixels and the resolution of sand.

Behavior In the Synthetic Characters Group, we aim to build whole autonomous creatures. The

inhabitants of the virtual space have their own emotions and drives and exist as intentional

beings. Their actions are determined by their own desires and beliefs. There is no script. We create simple but complete creatures who have integrated models of perception,

motivation, emotion, behavior, and motor control. At every instant our creatures are in a

specific emotional state that affects both what they do and how they do it. The underlying model comes from the study of ethology combined with the approach of artificial life.

We believe that this architecture-the encapsulation of behavior and interaction in terms of autonomous agents-presents a powerful way of thinking about interactive

spaces and species. Our installation reflects our views on behavior. All elements of our world-actors,

music, camera, and set-are thought of and designed as virtual creatures. One might claim that interactivity is blurring the boundaries between the creators of

installations and the participants in those installations. But such claims will remain prema- ture as long as the authors work with faceless bits and the users see only animations.

The notion of "character" seems fundamental to our human lives, which are so full of social interactions. We engage in such interactions with notions of agency, intention, and emotion. Unless artificial life plays in these terms, it will always feel artificial.

Music The music in our installation is created by an unseen "music creature." The score is com-

posed in real time to reflect not only what is happening to the stone garden, but also what is

happening to the characters and how they feel about this. In this demonstration of our music technology, thematic "threads" are represented by the

stones and blended together to fuse ambient soundscapes. Participants can control the blend and the development of the themes by positioning the stones relative to the center of the box.

Our synthetic characters' complex emotional systems and large behavioral repertoire pro- vide a unique platform from which to explore how this nonlinear medium can sound.




Camera To control the virtual camera, we have built an autonomous cinematography system

that decides the most appropriate shot at each moment. Within the constraints imposed by interactivity, the system incorporates lighting and camera techniques from traditional

cinematography to strengthen the emotional impact of the scene.

Interface The research of the

Synthetic Characters

- Group takes us from advanced "behavior-friend-

ly" 3D graphics systems

through behavior systems to issues of interface.

Tangible interfaces that

affect characters and the worlds that they inhabit must go beyond the mice,

keyboards, joysticks, and monitors of the conven-

tional desktop. By combin-

ing the most recent

technology with ancient

materials, our interfaces

span this gap of eons.

The hardware for the

iA.~~ ~stone garden interface is based on active radio fre-

quency inductively pow- ered tag technology developed by Swatch

Group.

Goal The goal of this work is to create a meditative space while juxtaposing the digital and

the real, the ancient and the ultramodern, the roughness of stone and the sheen of a digital surface. Participants leave traces of their interactions through the patterns of sand and

arrangements of stone.

Technical Information For this installation, we will be running the system on an SGI Infinite Reality Onyx II

Rack and five additional Pentium II machines running NT4.0. We will rear-project onto a 6 x 4-foot screen using an XGA projector. We will be responsible for providing all com-

putational equipment. The contributors write the software in Java, C, and C++. The system is largely written

in Java and utilizes a thin graphics API that allows it to use either Performer on SGI hardware (Irix 6.5) or Cosmo3D on Windows NT 4.0 platforms for rendering. 3D Studio Max R2.5 and Character Studio 2.1 are used for modeling and character animation.

GAMUT-DXm is our official 3DSMax exporter. The installation requires two 30-amp, 220-volt circuits (compatible with NEMA plug

6-30) for the Infinite Reality rack. It also requires two 15-amp, 110-volt circuits for the

projector as well as Intel-class computers and other miscellaneous equipment.




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