“The Happiness Box theory posits that sufficiently advanced civilizations don’t swarm out into the universe, they implode into virtual worlds of their own making. If you could gain the ability to upload consciousness into simulated realities that are functionally indistinguishable from physical reality, why would you bother to climb into a physical spaceship to outwardly explore?”
[via]
My new favourite fan theory is the one that says that Snowpiercer is a sequel to Willy Wonka.
A very interesting and necessary reflection on the difficulties of being our true selves online in 2019. And a good description of the never ending tension between the will to hide (and be safe) and the need to participate (and be exposed). Be sure to also read part II.
“In the information society, the world is the frame. Art, in these conditions, has the potential of being “received” by millions of people at the same time, without a hierarchy of reception.”
– Joseph Kosuth, 1968.
She Has a Hot Ass. How conceptual art influenced the World Wide Web. On Citizen Brooklyn
[thanks domenico!]
How Art Works? A serious movie about problems and solutions, by Paweł Sysiak and Tymek Borowski.
This video is important. Direct, sincere, funny and, well, let’s say FREE. It’s time to change perspective, radically and immediately. Take back art now.
“♫ let’s make art as if art wouldn’t exist ♫”
Click on the image to enlarge
The Rise of the Online Gallery :
Paddy Jonhson discusses the rise of a new kind of art gallery. Brad Troemel dubbed this spaces as “Dual Sites”:
“Thus, internet art is marked by the compulsive urge of searching (or, surfing) to connect with others in a way that is not directed by privatized interests, but found and shared among individuals.[1] The Dual Site is an institution born from this individuated system of relating with one another. It is an exhibition space symptomatic of The Physical and The Digital’s comingling– an example of how art, like life itself, now exists somewhere between the two.”
(http://thejogging.tumblr.com/post/536420881/the-emergence-of-dual-sites)
Continue reading
Jogging is an art collective that displays immaterial works of art and writing on the Internet:
“In an MIT lecture last year, Michael Mittleman stated that between 90 and 95% of an artist’s audience will see their work through documentation. Art cannot exist without an audience, as it relies on media for its existence as art. With today’s burgeoning potential for digital mass viewership, transmission becomes as important as creation. Contemporary online artists are aware of this fact and seek to actively make use of its potential. Dematerialization is not an oppressive suffocation of art but a possibility for art to flourish in disparate and progressive discourses. The web offers infinite room for expansion and participation unlimited by the more severe constraints of space and finance.” (Redefining Exhibition in the Digital Age)
[via rhizome]
According to art critic Jonathan Jones, James Cameron’s new 3D film Avatar has something to teach us about the Renaissance:
“In the 15th century, artists discovered how to paint bodies and landscapes as if they had depth and solidity. Painting triumphed over the flat surface to create the illusion of a real scene glimpsed through the square enclosure of the wooden panel or canvas, as if you were watching a play on a stage. The effect was just as dazzling, just as unexpected as 3D cinema – and it has lasted a lot longer than the gimmicks of 1950s science fiction.”
“Le cose cambiano, si dice, corrono in fretta come non mai. Ma si ha pure l’impressione che appunto negli ultimi tre decenni si sia venuta avvitando nel cervello dei terrestri una sorta di ossessione sistematoria sempre più incalzante, vorticosa, per cui ad esempio degli Anni Sessanta si discute come delle Crociate, mentre il cinema dei primi Anni Ottanta, il teatro degli ultimi Anni Settanta, la pubblicità a cavallo tra Ottanta e Novanta già si sono guadagnati stuoli solenni di esegeti e specialisti. E’ come se, via via che le cose accadono, la gente ne avvertisse la precipitosa irrilevanza voltandosi poi immediatamente indietro per farle non rivivere, ma vivere a posteriori.”
Così scriveva Carlo Fruttero negli Anni Novanta. Era l’introduzione all’edizione tascabile Einaudi de “Le meraviglie del possibile. Antologia della fantascienza” a cura dello stesso Fruttero e di Sergio Solmi (prima edizione: 1959). La lettura è altamente consigliata, non solo per la bella selezione di racconti, non tutti noti, ma anche per la brillante prefazione di Solmi, che in una quindicina di pagine traccia un quadro critico della science-fiction a dir poco prezioso. Il parallelo con il romanzo cavalleresco visto come primo esempio di “folklore letterario internazionale”, è particolarmente illuminante.
[la foto viene dalla serie che ho scattato questo weekend a Venezia. l’ambientazione era come quella del racconto di Ray Bradbury: Pioggia senza fine]
Sol LeWitt (1928 – 2007)
The artist may not necessarily understand his own art. His perception is neither better nor worse than that of others.
Banal ideas cannot be rescued by beautiful execution.
It is difficult to bungle a good idea.
When an artist learns his craft too well he makes slick art.
la versione integrale qui
L’immenso Jerry Saltz spiega cos’è la critica d’arte oggi. O meglio, come dovrebbe essere e non è. E come l’assenza di occhio e pensiero critico uccida l’arte. E tante altre cose. Che non potevano essere dette meglio di così…
“The best critics look for the same things in contemporary criticism that they look for in contemporary art. But they also have an eye. Having an eye in criticism is as important as having an ear in music. It means discerning the original from the derivative, the inspired from the smart, the remarkable from the common, and not looking at art in narrow, academic, or “objective” ways. It means engaging uncertainty and contingency, suspending disbelief, and trying to create a place for doubt, unpredictability, curiosity, and openness.”
Un interessante articolo di Adrian Searle pubblicato sul Guardian commenta l’ultima mostra di Rirkrit Tiravanija a Londra. Dopo aver cucinato zuppe, costruito sale da thè e spazi ricreativi, l’artista thailandese ricostruisce il suo appartamento di New York all’interno della Serpentine Gallery. Tutto, fino nei dettagli. I visitatori possono rilassarsi sul divano, cucinare qualcosa, usare il bagno. Fa tornare in mente l’artista conviviale, buffa definizione che Antoine Prum ha di recente affibbiato agli artisti relazionali (corrente effettivamente bene rappresentata da Tiravanija).
Mentre si chiede se la voglia di coinvolgere il pubblico non sia diventata una consuetudine irritante e di maniera, Searle stila un sintetico ma efficace compendio dei tentativi di trasformare la vita in arte (e viceversa?):
Artists have walked for art, slept for art, made love and, in the case of one Austrian Aktionist, allegedly cut off his penis for art. The audience too has been invited to participate in often silly ways. We’ve stripped for art, worn stupid costumes for art, moved a mountain with a shovel for art (this last being a beautiful work by Francis Alÿs), been bored to tears, if not to death, for art and by art.
Amen.
Mettendo insieme del materiale per un intervento all’Università ho ritrovato questo:
“La sovrabbondanza di mezzi è il primo grande pericolo che l’arte deve affrontare. Quest’espressione è invero illogica (non c’è una sovrabbondanza di mezzi, ma un’incapacità di impadronirsene), ma si giustifica nella misura in cui riesce ad esprimere l’assurdità della nostra situazione. […] L’industria, la speculazione e la scienza applicata alla vita devono portare fino in fondo questo processo della dissoluzione dei tipi artistici esistenti prima che possa seguirne qualcosa di buono e di nuovo”.
(G. Semper, Scienza, industria e arte, 1852)
Mi sembra, a un secolo e mezzo di distanza, un’affermazione sulla quale riflettere.