Chinese-Australian artist Thomas C. Chung has embarked on a lifelong artistic research that he is developing in well-structured phases, each one characterized by an exploration of different techniques and approaches to human experience. He earned his Bachelor of Fine Arts from the University of New South Wales’ College of Fine Arts in 2004 and has had a noteworthy international artistic presence in recent years. Chung has been a representative for Australia in several prominent international exhibitions, such as the 2nd Land Art Biennial in Mongolia, the 4th Ghetto Biennale in Haiti, and the 9th Shiryaevo Biennale in Russia. Currently, he is exploring the realms of psychotherapy as a means to deepen his artistic inquiry.
The artist presents on Niio three pivotal works from his ongoing second phase, in which he leaves behind a narrative focused on childhood innocence and enters the adult world with a series of more sober, meditative artworks. The landscapes that form the collection “As Far As I Could See…” introduce a deeper reflection on the human condition, not without a hint to the magic and surreal aspects of children’s imagination.
Thomas C. Chung. “As Far As I Could See…” (I), 2023
In the following interview for Niio, Chung discusses the motivations behind his work and dives into his second-phase artworks, which have recently been exhibited at the Chinese European Art Center (Xiamen, China) in a solo show titled “The Sea That Stands Before Me…”
Your work has evolved over the last decades following a “lifelong narrative” determined by different phases. The first phase was characterized by crochet sculptures, installations, and an overall playful aesthetic, while the second-phase works present a very different approach. It may even be hard to recognize the work of the same artist in these two phases. How have you dealt with this transition, and what has been the response to it?
I’ll be the first to say I was nervous about the different phases I had conceived – I figured it might be too hard for others to accept, especially with the small but loyal following I had built. Over time, I understood that as long as the work was fascinating to myself & others, it didn’t matter what shape or form it took as long as the creativity was there. I clarified this by using new techniques each decade, approaching the chapters within my Art by splitting them into various methods that correlated with the story I wanted to tell. The 1st phase was all handmade, tactile, labor-intensive & filled with food motifs as avenues for expressing a child’s obsessions & dreams. This 2nd phase speaks of the departure from childhood & the realization that life has to progress beyond our comfort zones so that we can understand the totality of our world.
I had a lot of interests as a child & wanted to grow up to be so many things, one of which was as a children’s illustrator & author. But Art chose me instead, so here I am, creating a different type of story, saving that option for later.
Thomas C. Chung’s solo exhibition at the Chinese European Art Center extends to Sedition and Niio with the presentation of a selection of artworks.
You have expressed that, in your work, you aim to see the world through the eyes of a child. How do you convey this idea without being perceived as childlike or superficial? Which is the underlying concept that grounds these artworks?
It aligns with how I interact with people these days in a direct yet open & gentle manner without overthinking the consequences. If others don’t appreciate it, I try not to let it matter. Everyone has their view or way of life. My artwork may have previously been seen as naive, which at times bothered me. I knew as a conceptual artist, my practice would be a lifetime’s work that would encompass the narratives of my inner child. The artwork titles are a hint to what it is they see & are presented to the audience as an observation of their journeys while exploring the world. To produce this lifelong story, it was always my vision to create a giant storybook-like body of work split into chapters, set within a contemporary art context, emphasizing the importance of patience, empathy & curiosity, where human beings have the ability to control what it is they feel or see.
Thomas C. Chung. “It Was Like Seeing A Fallen Rainbow…” Exhibition view at Galerie pompom
Your video artworks are characterized by a slow tempo that suggests a relaxed observation. In our times of limited attention span and an overflow of media content, would you say that we need to take more time to observe our surroundings? In your opinion, does art create this space for observation or is it also caught in the spirit of fast-paced consumption?
That’s quite a complex one to answer. And that is a great question. I value the time I take to see the world unfiltered from electronic devices & media. Much of that is due to my not being attached to technology as early as others may have been. For example, the very first mobile phone I got was when I was 34 years old; I remember even thinking what a selfie of myself looks like.
Until then, I spent a significant portion of my life turning up early to meet friends or acquaintances (if they were over an hour late, I would leave), keeping promises that I had kept & looking at the sky to tell the time.
Art has always been a good reflection of our times, like a visual newspaper that begins & starts intriguing conversations before leaving it to others to visit, fulfill, react, or enjoy. The fast-paced consumption of our current world is an accurate indication of that, with the growth of digital art increasing among the masses.
Thomas C. Chung. “As Far As I Could See…” (II), 2023
You are studying to become a psychotherapist and draw inspiration from this knowledge to create your artworks. Do you intend your artworks to visualize or reflect upon states of mind, or do you wish them to become therapeutic objects, sparking certain emotions or thoughts that might have a healing quality?
This one made me think – thank you for that. My intention as an artist is to engage with everyone, but whether or not it connects with others is something I can’t control. Delving into the mental health field as a future psychotherapist, the purpose of whatever I create – however the audience receives it – there’s no right or wrong answer, just an open story. Food & landscapes have always intrigued me in this particular way. Some people love certain aspects or locations, while others dread it. Some people love a specific type of food but not others. No one person has the same reaction to different things & that’s what is so fascinating to me, to see life through the eyes of another human being.
When I create, I have a particular concept & narrative for it, but ultimately, if the audience would like to enjoy it without any background or story, that is also up to them. Viewing Art, like watching any movie, reading a book, or tasting a special menu, is very subjective.
“I’ve purposefully given artworks a title that invites an audience in…much like an open door to a gathering or party.”
You have mentioned your role as storyteller. How do you guide the narrative, from the title of the artwork to its description and the story that unfolds in it?
I’ve purposefully given artworks – particularly new bodies of work – a title that invites an audience in…much like an open door to a gathering or party. I grew up in an environment where Art was rarely seen as a necessity, so I knew the task for an artist was to be as engaging as possible – if not with their personality, then at the least with their artworks. Often, the title reveals a lot to the viewer & this should always be considered.
Once the artwork has been created & the title carefully selected (I have a list of names for potential artworks), it unfolds as an individual experience. Once invited, I leave the guests to wander around to enjoy the ambiance of it.
Thomas C. Chung. “As Far As I Could See…” (III), 2023
You are exploring “emotional landscapes.” Coincidentally, this is a term used by the singer Björk in her song Jóga, in which she refers to being puzzled by emotions and undergoing a healing process. Is this how you understand your exploration? Or is it more of a distanced observation?
Oh – how wonderful. Thank you for this observation. I’ve been a big fan of Björk for many years, especially when I was younger…yet I never put the terms together like you did. I love this connection. I know the words ’emotional landscapes’ popped into my artistic practice at a time when I noticed how viewing one place or space brought out differing reactions & sensations in others. A lot of this stems from my studying in psychotherapy, where no one situation is identical, although similar when answered by participants or clients. For some, this exploration could be seen as somewhat distanced yet intimate. The space in front of us isn’t necessarily a gauge for how close one feels towards something.
“These artworks point to a departure from childhood innocence, but also to longing for the past in a way that color cannot achieve.”
The series of artworks you present on Niio address the ability to find hope during times of hardship, which is something that everyone can relate to. The aesthetics and elements in them point to a more sombre, even melancholic atmosphere. Would you say that these artworks represent a coming of age, leaving aside the innocence of childhood and confronting the hard truths of adult life?
This series with Niio is particular in its aesthetics & I chose a black-and-white palette to illustrate this story. I’ve always found the limiting of colors to be very intriguing. I love to watch vintage movies because they have a very special quality. Sometimes, it can feel melancholic, while at other times, it can feel deeply romantic. These artworks pointed to a departure from childhood innocence, that’s for sure, but it also alludes to the longing for the past in a way that color cannot achieve. I wanted to insert an intangible without stating something obvious so people could have their journey & time to think for themselves.
3D motion designer and visual artist Kian Khiaban has had an outstanding trajectory since he graduated from UCLA in 2015. Working early on with fellow artist Refik Anadol, he has closely collaborated with him in some of his studio’s most spectacular projects and is now part of the team at the world famous Sphere, a groundbreaking spherical screen with 580,000 sq feet of LEDs. Khiaban’s artistic work focuses on nature and abstraction, conceiving art as a way of addressing human emotions and engaging in healing processes.
The artist has recently presented a solo artcast featuring five artworks in which he creates fantastical landscapes that depict different emotions. In the following interview, he dives into what these imaginary spaces mean to him, as well as his creative process and his views on the current state of digital art.
How did you get started in 3D animation? What interested you about this particular aspect of digital creativity?
I started doing 3D when I was thirteen. I got introduced to it through anime forums, actually. In the anime forums, every user would have their own design, which they called a signature, and they would teach people how to make their own signature. So through this I got introduced to Photoshop and 3D, and then when I went to university, I already had a whole portfolio of still images. They weren’t animations, they were just art. There I started to learn how to move the things that I had made. At UCLA I met Refik [Anadol], who was a grad student. He was using Cinema 4D, a professional 3D modeling, animation, simulation and rendering software. It was a good match between us, because we were both heavy C4D users, and then at some point Refik had an exhibition and I offered to help him, so we started collaborating and I worked my way up into his company and was part of its early establishment. This was around 2015, when I graduated.
“The way we worked [with Refik Anadol] is that he gave me a lot of freedom, maybe throwing an initial idea, and then I would go crazy with it.”
You have created numerous animations for the studio of Refik Anadol. Can you tell us about your creative process within this context? What have you contributed and what have you learned from this collaborative practice?
Working with Refik mainly consists in that he would come to me with an idea, especially a visual idea and would say: “this would be really great if you can make something like this.” I was very good at iterating, so I considered myself, especially at that time, a remixer. I created a lot of the visuals of the projects we were doing at his studio. For instance, we had a project calledInfinity Room. Refik said he had the idea of a room with mirrors on the top and bottom. So I experimented a lot, I did the sound design for it, made some animations, and gave it a particular character. Then Refik added some visuals onto it. In some projects he would take the lead, while in others I did for particular things. But the main characteristic of the way we worked is that he gave me a lot of freedom, maybe throwing an initial idea of what he was looking for, and then I would go crazy with it. Sometimes the project would develop in a totally different direction, but always with this ongoing conversation between us.
Kian Khiaban. An Open Heart, 2021.
On the other hand, I have also learned a lot from my commercial work, where I am given a style frame and I work on that, building an entire animation, and remixing it. I’ve gained a lot of technical knowledge and benefited from working with a team, which is something I love because it brings me multiple perspectives that widen mine. I would say that I’ve been lucky because in these jobs the clients have trusted me and given me a lot of freedom, and even allowed me to have some of my personal themes in my work. What I learn in my commercial work I later on apply it to my personal work. Working on one of these projects for eight hours every day, you get to experiment so much, and so I often develop things that seem perfect for one of my pieces, and then of course my personal work also inspires what I do for different clients.
“I love working with a team because it brings me multiple perspectives that widen mine.”
Currently I work at the Sphere in Las Vegas, in R&D and building the animations, and this is a very challenging type of shape because it is seamless. And you know, 3d animators don’t design in a seamless way. In addition, the form has to be a spherical camera, so there are a lot of little things you have to adjust for. But to be honest, I’m good at coming up with a lot of ideas, and then making things a bit prettier with each iteration. That’s what I do.
3D motion design by Kian Khiaban at the Sphere, Las Vegas, 2023.
The animations you have created have been displayed in very large installations and on the facades of famous buildings. How do you work on them when considering such a large scale, and an interaction with architecture?
The process starts by making a 3D model or a miniature of the building, because you need to be able to feel what you’re doing. If we don’t have the possibility of building a miniature version of what we’re doing, we do a VR version, building the space in 3D and then applying the projection. That gives you a starting place to experiment. But besides that I like to first consider where the building is located, in what city, what kind of environment is there around the building, what form does the building represent, and so forth. Then I try to build on top of that, but it depends on the project.
For instance, inWDCH Dreams, at the Walt Disney Concert Hall in LA, there was the almost impossible task of mapping the shapes of Frank Gehry’s building, for which they had had developers working for years. We used 42 large scale projectors that were able to display 50K resolution images. We used the entire facade as a screen, applying the visuals I created to a 3D model in order to adapt to the undulating shapes.
Kian Khiaban. Long Walk, 2023.
Your personal work is often characterized by an interest in nature (real or imagined) and mesmerizing visual effects in which light has a critical role. What attracted you to creating these fantastic worlds and the lively activity that takes place in them?
I’ve always liked hiking a lot. When I was a kid, there was this one place I went to that brought a lot of peace in my mind. When you go into a natural setting by yourself, it becomes a way of finding yourself because you’re getting this new clarity and simplification. You can actually hear your own thoughts, and to me that is very relaxing. So I like nature because it has that healing quality of bringing clarity, lowering the volume and allowing a space for reflection.
As for the dream-like quality of my work, I believe it is related to who I am. I was a big daydreamer as a kid. I would play out scenarios a lot in my head, and I also spent many hours, year after year, in front of the computer. Playing video games and searching the Internet took me to a distant place, away from daily reality, and I think what I do now is a more sophisticated version of that. I’m building this space for myself to bring me peace and clarity, the same way when there was chaos around me, I could go to a video game and be taken into that fictional world.
“I like nature because it has that healing quality of bringing clarity, lowering the volume and allowing a space for reflection.”
In the artworks we now present on Niio, a common denominator is the depiction of emotions through digital landscapes. What do you find interesting about representing emotions in this way?
Maybe I should talk about why I always have a light in the center of each artwork. I don’t want to impose my intentions on the viewer’s interpretation of the artwork, but I think it is worth explaining this. The light represents the hope of getting out of a hard situation, the objective you try to follow to achieve that, and that makes you very focused. I feel that what has helped me survive in my chaotic environment all these years is being really focused. The light obviously has other meanings, it can be the sun, that so many civilizations have praised as a God, or the light that people having near death experience say they have seen in a pleasant field, and that has brought them the most peaceful feeling they’ve ever felt in their life. So what I mean is that these artworks are for me a way to express something personal, even intimate, in a more abstract form. For instance, one of my latest pieces is called Adrift at Sea, and it refers to the feeling of having to choose among different values and not being sure what to pick, which made me feel a bit lost.
Kian Khiaban. Wisdom, 2020.
Despite this personal connection with a human experience, there is generally a lack of human figures in these landscapes, why is that?
I want it to feel lonely. It’s that feeling I get when I go into nature, there’s no one around me. But it is not about loneliness: I can think of having people there, but it would change the whole dynamic of the piece. It can become about them, and I am not interested in representing people in these landscapes, which would take you into figuring out what they are doing, but rather to express a feeling that you can only experience looking at this landscape where there is no one else but you.
“These artworks are for me a way to express something personal, even intimate, in a more abstract form.”
From your perspective as an artist involved in acclaimed large scale projects, what is your opinion about the current perception of digital art? Do you think it has finally become a widely accepted form of contemporary art?
Generally speaking, it is much more respected than before, partly because of the NFT boom. However, NFTs also brought negative associations, with purely financial speculation and lack of quality. On the other hand, 3D animation is now much more popular because it is widely used in advertising. Another thing I find that is more present in digital art is this blending of fine art and commercial creativity, which is pretty much connected to what Andy Warhol did, or now Takashi Murakami and Jeff Koons, for instance. For someone like me, who works with commercial projects as well as my own artistic practice, this is quite interesting, and to be invited to a fine art exhibition as a digital artist is something that the 13-year computer gamer in me finds really amazing. Digital art is definitely becoming art. It should have happened 20 years ago, but it’s okay.
“I think Niio is great. I feel that you have a deep appreciation and understanding of art.”
How do you see a platform like Niio contributing to this popularization of digital art?
I think Niio is great. I’d say that’s why we connected so well early on, because I felt like you had a deep appreciation and understanding of art. And if you’re guiding this platform, you’re gonna take it in the right direction. The way the artwork descriptions are written, the way everything is laid out, is the way a gallery would lay it out. I also value that the artist’s opinion, or vision is involved in the process. I’ve been approached by other platforms, but I didn’t say yes to a lot of things because I felt like they were mainly a business. Too much of a pure business approach to art. And I think that what you all are doing at Niio is really what the artists are trying to do.
On the occasion of Clinamen, Antoine Schmitt‘s first solo show at DAM Projects, I wrote the following text that can be found in the gallery’s press release and is now available on Niio Editorial courtesy of DAM. The exhibition runs until January, 2024 at the Berlin gallery.
Antoine Schmitt. Pixel Single, 2021. Generative installation. Photo: Quentin Chevrier
According to Epicurus (341-270 BC), the universe consists of atoms constantly falling down, carried by their own weight into the void, like drops of rain. This endless cascade of billions and billions of atoms, ordered in neat columns, might be beautiful and dull but no one would see it, because nothing would exist. Epicurus explains that thanks to a slight swerve in their trajectory, the atoms collide with each other and, through chain reactions, create all matter. This subtle deviation from a perfectly straight path is what he calls the clinamen, a term that ignited the imaginations of Dadaists and Pataphysicians alike, and that now finds itself as the title of Antoine Schmitt’s first solo exhibition at DAM Projects.
Antoine Schmitt. Cascade Grand Oblique Video Recording, 2018. Code based art.
A programming engineer specializing in Human-Computer Interaction and Artificial Intelligence, Antoine Schmitt is a unique visual artist who distills inspiration from kinetic, cybernetic, and abstract art into a body of work that often appears unapologetically minimalistic: the square dominates his abstract generative artworks, sometimes with the authoritative presence of Malevich’s Black Square, sometimes integrated into a vibrating multiplicity of shapes as in Vera Molnar’s (Des)Ordres series, but more often as a humble pixel transiting a black void. However, representing purely abstract entities is not Schmitt’s goal, as his interactive installations attest: he is interested in people, societies, the ego, the Superego, and the laws of the universe. Rather than a mathematician, he sees himself as a physicist who, as Epicurus, uses his imagination to seek an explanation of reality and provide a representation of it.
Antoine Schmitt is a unique visual artist who distills inspiration from kinetic, cybernetic, and abstract art into a body of work that often appears unapologetically minimalistic
In this room, we are looking at black squares made visible by their absence, pixels gracefully dancing in strange choreographies, messing around, hurriedly crossing to the other side of the screen, or falling in cascades, carried by their own weight. Their movements are mesmerizing precisely because the artist has programmed a clinamen that gently deviates their trajectory and leads them into a seemingly chaotic, but also beautifully synchronized, behavior. Order and chaos are key to the work of an artist who does not “animate” the pixels, but creates situations and rules using code, and then lets the program run on its own. A series of performative events carried out by machines, the artworks build realities that exist in front of us in real time, mirroring the physical, social, and informational systems we are a part of.
Antoine Schmitt, Clinamen, 2023, exhibition view. Photography by Ea Bertrams. Courtesy of DAM Projects
A single pixel, hanging on the wall, pulsates at irregular intervals. It is trying to communicate its own source code, to replicate itself, if not as a physical entity or picture element on a screen, then at least as an idea. A Duchampian bachelor machine, it fails in its task. But ultimately it acts as a mirror of the person who observes it, reminding us that we are the pixels in these endless flows. And that we are, in turn, made of atoms that once, fortunately, strayed from their path and collided with each other.
Over the last two decades, Brussels-based Colombian artist Laura Colmenares Guerra has carried out a consistent body of work in the form of interactive audiovisual installations and live performances. Her work is characterized by a research-based practice that requires long processes and interdisciplinary collaborations, focusing on the difficult relationship between our industrialized societies and the living ecosystems we are a part of. Since 2018, Laura is engaged in a series of artworks exploring the environmental impact of neo-liberal extractivist practices in the Amazon basin.
Niio is proud to present a series of videos from this recent work, that illustrate her conceptual and aesthetic approach to this subject. In this exclusive interview, the artist elaborates on the production of the Rios Trilogy and the key elements of her artistic practice.
Explore Lagunas by Laura Colmenares Guerra, a narrative around the environmental consequences of hydraulic fracturing.
In your work, one finds a growing interest in the concept of landscape, from a more general or abstract perspective, to the specific region of the Amazon basin. Can you elaborate on your interest in landscape as a concept? Has the change of landscape from Bogotá to Brussels contributed to your ongoing reflection?
The concept of landscape holds a pivotal position in both my research and artistic practice. My master’s thesis was dedicated to the exploration of landscapes within video games, and ever since, the notion of landscape as a means of structuring our perception of the world has remained a constant presence.
“Western societies’ relationship with nature is characterized by distance and objectification.”
The concept of “landscape” finds its origins in the Dutch term “landschap.” The etymology of the word “landscape” can be traced back to the 16th century when it was used to describe paintings depicting rural scenery, defined as a “painting representing an extensive view of natural scenery”. This meaning occurs at a time when distance observation from a fixed and dominant position is the symbolic form by which reality (perspective) is measured. Perspective allowed the modern individual to become a contemplative observer, establishing a distinct separation between the subject and the object observed from a distance. This conscious acknowledgement of distance transformed the relationship with the environment into a reflective and contemplative one. It implies the need for a conceptual apparatus, category diagrams, and concepts that make this experience possible. This dual perspective, characterized by both distance and objectification, fundamentally shapes Western societies’ relationship with nature.
Laura Colmenares Guerra. Fracking Island #4, 2023
A certain tension or equilibrium between control and spontaneity can be found in your work, for instance in the use of cartography, data analysis, and 3D scans as a form of capturing the landscape, as opposed to introducing audience participation or creating live performances where there is more room for the unscripted. How do you feel about the notion of control, particularly in relation to our environment and the natural systems around us?
My work involves a range of processes, transitioning from analysis, tools and methodologies from other disciplines to more speculative and experimental procedures. I enjoy being in control as much as I enjoy surrendering it. As a result, my creations often exhibit multiple layers, occasionally presenting significant contradictions.
“My goal is to provoke questions rather than provide answers”
For example, in Chapter N.2 of the Ríos Trilogy, I fragment the territory of the Amazon Basin with hydrological parameters. Yet, I know that the fragmentation of ecosystems is one of the key problems when preserving the connectivity between biomes. I prefer to maintain a sense of ambiguity, allowing the viewer to approach my work from various perspectives. My goal is to provoke questions rather than provide answers. Likewise, when I grant control to the audience, I willingly surrender it myself. This aspect of my creative process is deeply intriguing to me.
Laura Colmenares Guerra. Ríos Trilogy. Installation.
You carry out your artistic projects through long term processes of creation and transdisciplinary collaborations. Can you briefly walk us through the main phases in one of your projects, the time frame, and comment on how these collaborations arise and develop?
I enjoy writing, even though it can be extremely painful; it’s essential to my work. I’ve never published, but I have a collection of texts that I write through the creation process of each piece. I keep track of all the versions as a way to keep track of the ideas and strategies that lead me to give a specific form to the work. Most of the time, I start from a basic or simple concept. In the case of the Rios Trilogy, it all started from the #AmazonFires. The day I started researching this hashtag, I would have never imagined that I would be engaged with this research for five years (and counting). Now finished, the Ríos Trilogy seems like a solid three-chapter project, but when I started, I was not sure what would be the final output.
“Experimenting implies pushing the limits of media or techniques, so I always have to make sure I work with experts who feel comfortable engaging in experimental methodologies.”
Once I feel a concept is solid enough, I decide to give direction to it and see how to make it evolve into an artwork. Often, the next phase implies finding experts in the field to start grounding the ideas into possible outcomes. That process includes budgeting and finding subsidies to pay the people involved in the project, to pay myself and to find the money to realize the ideas. I define objectives, yet I generate a framework in which the process can permeate the outcome. Collaborating with people from different fields is extremely interesting. The process always includes experimentation; often, many failures happen before the final pieces come to life. For both the experts I collaborate with and for myself, experimenting implies pushing the limits of media or techniques, so I always have to make sure I work with experts who feel comfortable engaging in experimental methodologies.
Laura Colmenares Guerra directing the shooting of the underwater video sequence in Lagunas.
I often spend more time than I’d like dealing with administrative and production tasks, which can be frustrating. I sometimes have to hire people to do part of the work, but I also give myself enough time to do aspects of the work that I don’t want to delegate. For example, the porcelain 3D printed sculptures of Chapter N.2 of the Ríos Trilogy. I took pottery lessons for over a year while, in parallel, experimenting with the 3D printer in my studio. It took me around two years to achieve the results I had in mind. Many failures and doubts often accompany the process. Still, it is extremely satisfactory when you start having good results, and suddenly, you look back and see how much skills and knowledge you’ve learned in the process.
Laura Colmenares Guerra. Fracking Island #5, 2023
You also work as a VJ and have collaborated in numerous live audiovisual performances. How does your experience in this field inform your installations and videos in terms of the process, dynamics, and aesthetics? What is the role of sound and music in your work?
Sound and music have consistently held a central position in my works, although it’s only recently that I fully embraced this passion. Throughout my journey, I’ve collaborated with musicians, composers, and record labels, yet I never quite ventured into creating music myself. However, in 2023, I decided to delve into this realm independently. Techno music has been a steadfast companion throughout my life. It was my gateway into VJing in the past. This year, I made the leap into DJing and have been sharing this passion with my son, as we’ve spent the last few months mixing together. We’re preparing for a duo project set to be released in 2024. Simultaneously, I’ve been quietly immersing myself in the study of electronic music production; I might share some of my own compositions with the public in the coming months.
Laura Colmenares Guerra. Variations of Dissaray, 2016
Your work involves both installation and video as well as sculpture and VR environments. What drives you to choose one format/technique over another for each project? In the Ríos Trilogy, for instance, we find data visualization and analysis as well as 3D printed sculptures and a VR environment; how do they complement each other?
I consider myself an idea-based artist rather than a medium-based artist. That means that even though installation is a constant in my work, the components included in the installation work are subject to change from one piece to another. My main creation tool is 3D, but 3D can be used in many ways, from printing to VR, animation, still images, augmented reality, etc. I like combining techniques and tend to incorporate material and non-material elements. Each media has its language. I explore paths to generate dialogues between different media.
“I consider myself an idea-based artist rather than a medium-based artist. My main creation tool is 3D, but 3D can be used in many ways, from printing to VR, animation, still images, augmented reality, etc.”
Laura Colmenares Guerra. Fracking Island #1, 2023
As a Colombian, I imagine that you feel a closer connection to the exploitation of natural resources in the Amazon basin in neighboring Brazil. How do you see the societies in the Northern Hemisphere, and particularly European societies, react to this issue? Do they see it as a remote problem? Does your work aim to bridge this gap of awareness?
The glaring disparity between the Northern and Southern hemispheres evokes strong emotions in me. I am profoundly critical and sensitive when it comes to this issue. Growing up in Colombia, a country tormented by civil war and influenced by the United States in its perpetuation, I realized at a young age that in the realm of geopolitics, the wealth of some often rests upon the suffering of others. I adopt a critical perspective towards European politics, despite the veneer of democracy; beneath the surface lies the pervasive corruption of democratic processes, fueled by ruthless corporate lobbying. What Indian activist Vandana Shiva aptly identifies as ‘the corporate control of life’ is responsible for the spread of neoliberal globalization, international trade policies, unchecked environmental exploitation, the privatization of natural resources, and the patenting of biological material. I undoubtedly address these problems through my work.
“Despite the veneer of democracy in European politics, beneath the surface lies the pervasive corruption of democratic processes, fueled by ruthless corporate lobbying.”
Lagunas addresses the issue of fracking within the different extractive practices that currently poison the natural environment. Within the context of your ongoing exploration of the landscape, why did you choose fracking as a subject? Why did you choose the Chingaza Natural National Park in Colombia as a source of some of the images in this project?
Burning fossil fuels (coal, oil, and natural gas) represents the primary driver of global climate change, responsible for more than 75% of worldwide greenhouse gas emissions and nearly 90% of carbon dioxide emissions.
As we approach the shortage of conventionally accessible fossil fuel reserves, hydraulic fracturing, commonly known as fracking, has gained greater prevalence. Fracking entails fracturing reservoir rocks by injecting toxic fluids at high pressure and keeping the split (the fracture) open by placing sand or similar in it. This process carries significant environmental repercussions; one of them is the contamination of the water sources in the subsoil of the Earth. In addition to the already evident pollution of the atmosphere, we must weigh the duration of fossil fuel extraction and our readiness to confront the consequences of polluting underground water sources on Earth.
“We must weigh the duration of fossil fuel extraction and our readiness to confront the consequences of polluting underground water sources on Earth.”
Lagunas delves into themes of water contamination, water scarcity, death, and memory. These concepts interweave within an interactive scenario featuring computer-generated imagery (CGI) combined with onsite images captured at Chingaza Natural National Park in Colombia, as well as underwater footage. Through these landscapes, I aimed to create an atmosphere that evokes both prehistoric and futuristic elements.
I selected Chingaza Natural National Park as the backdrop for this project due to the unique characteristics of its ecosystem, known as ‘Páramo’ in Spanish (for which there is no precise English translation). ‘Páramos’ are ‘Neotropical’ high mountain biomes in South America. They are primarily characterized by the presence of giant rosette plants, shrubs, and grasses. These giant rosette plants play a crucial role in capturing atmospheric water, which then travels through the soil, accumulates, and nourishes underground water systems. ‘Páramos’ ecosystems hold immense significance, notably in the formation of the rivers that comprise the intricate water network of the Amazon Basin.
Laura Colmenares Guerra. Fracking Island #6, 2016
You state that the interaction between the audience and the installation aims to create a direct implication of the viewer in the processes that are described in this piece. Can you explain the type of interaction you chose and how it creates this implication?
When I incorporate interactive elements into an installation, I seek out devices or objects that I can modify/hack to serve as interfaces for the audience. These interactive devices are chosen based on the potential of mediating the experience for the visitors. Such is the case of Lagunas, in which I created an interactive interface by hacking water industrial valves with optical sensors. The spectators interact with these valves, which recall the gesture of opening the water tab, as well as that of operating a steering wheel.
Laura Colmenares Guerra. Still from Ecdysis, 2023
You filmed the landscapes of Lagunas in Chingaza and have also participated in an art program at the Brazilian Amazon, from which emerged Ecdysis and the Ríos Trilogy. How was your experience of working on site and the collaborations that emerged for these projects?
I enjoy working onsite. Immersing myself in the very landscapes I’ve researched from behind a computer screen enriches my perspective significantly. What I find most rewarding, though, are the human connections forged during these journeys.
“In the upcoming month, I will embark on a new project centered around the chanting traditions of the Amazon People.”
In the upcoming month, I have an exciting journey planned to the Amazon, where I will embark on a new project centered around the chanting traditions of the Amazon People. Collaborating closely with the indigenous communities, we will explore sound and experiment with various methods of visualizing sound frequencies. It’s the first time I’ll work directly with communities, and I look forward to having a direct dialogue with the guardians of such an amazing and important territory.
Mario Klingemann, born in Laatzen, Germany in 1970, is an artist who integrates algorithms and artificial intelligence into his creative process. His artistic exploration delves into visual expressions, linguistics, and our intricate interactions with technology. Klingemann’s creations, which primarily utilize generative adversarial networks (GANs), manifest as screen-based artworks or interactive installations. These installations captivate audiences with a never-ending array of visual experiences, where the AI models crafted by Klingemann generate portraits, abstracted figures, or textual content in real-time.
Recognized as a pioneering figure in the realm of AI-art, Klingemann’s contributions include a tenure as Artist in Residence at Google Arts and Culture from 2015 to 2018. His collaborations extend to notable institutions like the British Library and the New York Public Library. In 2018, he was honored with the prestigious Lumen Prize Gold Award. Klingemann’s work has been showcased at eminent art venues globally, including the Centre Pompidou in Paris, The Barbican Centre in London, and the Hermitage Museum in St. Petersburg.
In this article, based on the text written for the exhibition Latent Spacesthat I curated for La Bibi Gallery (Mallorca, Spain) featuring the work of Mario Klingemann and the Finnish duo Grönlund-Nisunen, I offer a brief overview of the main subjects in Klingemann’s work. On the occasion of this exhibition, Niio is presenting a selection of artworks by Mario Klingemann, courtesy of Onkaos.
Explore the wilderness of AI in Mario Klingemann’s artworks
Mario Klingemann. Sirius A, 2019. Courtesy of Onkaos.
Latent space is the position relation of information
Borrowing László Moholy-Nagy’s reflections about architecture in his book The New Vision (1927), Klingemann describes the term “latent space,” commonly used in machine learning processes, as “the position relation of information.” Latent spaces are not physical spaces, but rather a way to describe how an artificial intelligence system processes the information it takes from a data set and creates clusters of items that resemble each other, according to a set of variables. Klingemann explores latent spaces as realms of endless possibilities, looking for the unexpected, the rare and weird, that which pushes his creativity further. For him, AI is not a technology that replaces the artist, but one that provides creators with new ways to develop their talent. In his work, we find endless processes fueled by “untamed” artificial neural networks that generate uncanny images and responses. Faced with this creative otherness, one must find one’s position as a viewer whose aesthetic and narrative expectations are challenged.
Nowadays, the most popular AI applications excel at creating realistic depictions of things we have seen thousands of times, or unconventional combinations of familiar images (such as a dog dressed as an astronaut riding a horse on the Moon) with impressive accuracy. However, Klingemann finds this approach predictable and boring, and aims to drive the system into the unpredictable: “[the popularization of] one-click AI art tools… forces me to look for areas out there that I still consider “wilderness” and to learn more about what it is that we humans find truly interesting and captivating.” The Hyperdimensional Attractions series addresses the unexpected by applying a three-body problem to a latent space, resulting in a triptych showing images that change according to how the feature vectors they represent “orbit” around each other. What the viewer sees is a triptych of familiar images always mutating into weird shapes and amalgamations: it is precisely these unsettling figures that interest Klingemann in his exploration of the fringes of representation.
Mario Klingemann. Three Latent Body Problem, 2023. Courtesy of Onkaos.
Datasets and appropriation
Generative neural networks are trained using datasets, and therefore the content of these datasets is crucial. Artists such as Anna Ridler create their own datasets by making hundreds of drawings or taking thousands of photographs, while others incorporate their own writings into a machine learning model in order to create an alter ego of sorts, as do Mark Amerika and Sasha Stiles. Mario Klingemann carries out a particular form of appropriation by using datasets of thousands of images or, more particularly, taking Hyeronimus Bosch’s The Garden of Earthly Delights (1490-1500)as the base material for The Garden of Ephemeral Details. In this artwork, an autonomous AI machine made of several generative adversarial networks (GANs) constantly reinterprets the famous triptych by adding new forms to its unsettlingly surreal iconography. Klingemann uses Bosch’s masterpiece as a field of algorithmic interpretation, forcing the machine to explore the “wilderness” of artistic creation by providing a peculiar data set in the form of the Dutch artist’s singular combination of religious imagery and unbridled fantasy. The resulting artwork thus becomes an experiment in machine hallucination and artificial imagination.
Mario Klingemann. The Garden of Ephemeral Details Reserve #2, 2020. Courtesy of Onkaos.
Motion and process
Moholy-Nagy was one of the pioneering artists exploring kinetic sculpture and the use of light and industrial materials in assemblages and installations. Kinetic art also influenced early algorithmic art, with pioneers such as Manfred Mohr seeking to portray motion in abstract generative artworks and finding in personal computers a tool to create visual compositions in perpetual transformation. Mario Klingemann follows this tradition by using generative adversarial networks to create images that are not static but constantly and seamlessly morph into new shapes, accentuating the fact that the process takes precedence over the finished product. The Hyperdimensional Attractions seriesand The Garden of Ephemeral Details clearly show this particular decision. The former explore the position relations of feature vectors in the latent space, the resulting images becoming a way to visualize these relations. The latter deconstructs Bosch’s triptych in order to portray the effort of the machine as it tries to stretch its imagination.
Mario Klingemann. Imposture Series – The Butcher’s Son, 2017. Courtesy of Onkaos.
Latency
Motion and process imply change taking place in a certain time and space (real or virtual). Change, in turn, implies that something is about to happen. There is expectation, as one waits for the next step in the process. Paradoxically, latency is found in Klingemann’s prints, static images that nevertheless potently evoke transformation. The Imposture series explores the representation of the human body through AI models, resulting in six compositions that the artist selected from 50,000 images generated by the program. Some of the images vaguely remind of paintings by Francis Bacon but have a decidedly non-human quality to them: they lack the natural notions of the shape of the human body and the empathy that a human artist would feel. In an even more disturbing turn, the Neural Decay series evoke early photographic portraiture, again in a form that distills otherness and the uncanny. These artworks seem in the process of dissolving, their shapes blending into each other, as if they were about to turn into an amorphous substance or simply vanish. As we observe and wait for this to happen, a space of latency opens before our eyes.
Ali Phi (1987) is an Iranian born new media artist and creative technologist currently based in Toronto. In 2013 he founded Nullsight, a collective of artists and programmers based in Toronto that curates and supports events linked to digital arts and music. The artist’s practice addresses architecture and spatial elements, both metaphorically and physically, creating interactive media that explores the relationships between geometry, patterns, light, and poetry.
In his live performances, he blends generative and time-based materials with sound and computational elements, providing unique collective experiences through data visualization. His visual art installations and performances have been showcased at renowned international venues and events, including Ars Electronica in Austria, Mutek in Montreal, and Art Brussels in Belgium.
Phi has recently presented a selection of artworks from the project Agnosia in a dedicated artcast on Niio. In the following interview, he elaborated on the concepts and processes behind these artworks and in his experience as an artist living in-between different worlds.
Experience Ali Phi’s immersive landscapes on your best screen
Can you tell me about the inception of Nullsight? How do you combine curation, performance, and software development in your work?
I founded Nullsightwith the goal of promoting like-minded artists and cultivating the market for new media and digital arts. This eventually led to joining a new media arts festival in Iran and directing it in the following years. Following the festival’s success, we continued to curate exhibitions both online and in real in Iran and Germany, as well as supporting other events in the field.
Upon relocating to Canada, Nullsight evolved into an art collective focused on creating and providing resources and toolkits for artists. Many of these products stemmed from the code I developed for my own artistic practice or in collaboration with fellow artists. Our aim was to transform these products into user-friendly tools accessible to a wide range of artists. We are guided by an ethos of open-source sharing, as much of our work is inspired by tutorials and shared code from fellow artists. This led us to establish an online platform for sharing these products.
Our upcoming projects are geared towards integrating the latest technology and are shaped by feedback from fellow artists and users. We are committed to keeping all resources updated and accessible to the public, ensuring even those with limited coding knowledge can employ them in their creative processes.
“I believe in giving back to the community and supporting the next generation of artists.”
The underlying motivation for sharing these resources is rooted in my own experience of self-guided learning. I believe in giving back to the community and supporting the next generation of artists. Making these assets available serves as an educational resource and empowers other passionate creators. Additionally, participating in performances deepens my understanding of concepts and allows me to stay connected with the vibrant community of new media artists, inspiring fresh ideas for future works.
Ali Phi. AGNOSIA 4, 2022
You have been an active member of the digital art community in Tehran. Can you describe how this community is working today, and what opportunities are there for Iranian new media artists?
It has been years since I’ve been away from Iran and the media art scene there, but I have seen that some of my students and fellow artists are continuing their practice in this field. They participate in small exhibitions in Iran, international exhibitions, and hold workshops to spread knowledge. Unfortunately, due to financial issues, sanctions, and governmental problems, the TADAEX festival stopped at its eighth edition back in 2018, and we couldn’t continue organizing it in Iran. However, I’ve noticed that many artists and volunteers from TADAEX have started studying in universities in North America and Europe, and they are still continuing their arts journey with notable achievements.
In terms of the future of new media arts in Iran, I believe the community and the new generation are incredibly curious and creative in this field. With the easy access to information and tutorials nowadays, it’s much easier for them to learn and continue coding. However, one challenge is the accessibility of hardware and devices, again due to sanctions. This has been an issue for the past decade, as finding investors or convincing business owners, galleries, institutes and industries to invest in such festivals and programs has been challenging. Unfortunately, I’ve seen that most of these events have been canceled or put on hold. However, I’m aware that certain organizations are still trying to keep their hackathons, labs, and gatherings going, pushing boundaries by participating in international festivals and online showcases.
“The community and the new generation of Iranian new media artists are incredibly curious and creative in this field.”
As for recommending Iranian artists, it ultimately depends on their passion and how they feel. This was the same for me and my fellow artists. Today, I know it has always been the passion for creating and presenting, which was the main reason for starting the festival in 2011. We didn’t have a platform like that back then, and one of the primary goals of the festival was to create a platform where we could showcase our art, receive feedback, teach others, and educate the community.
Ali Phi. AGNOSIA 2, 2022
You have stated that your work starts with music and then visual elements come into play, inspired by the music. How would you say that this approach has shaped your work?
Starting with sound and music is an essential part of my creative process. Sound, being such an intangible medium, offers a highly imaginative experience. It allows me to draw inspiration from everyday sounds, turning them into motifs that blend various cultural influences, moods, and vibes. This dynamic component, when integrated with visual elements, creates a holistic experience. The visual aspects act as an illusion that complements the overall presentation of the artistic work, particularly when synchronized with the sound. The architecture of the venue is crucial, especially for installations. It sets the stage for the entire experience. Whether it’s a traditional stage or a non-traditional presentation space, the approach remains consistent—surprising the audience with carefully crafted lighting, high contrast visuals, and a blend of different elements.
In my performances, I aim to engage the audience in a self-reflective experience. There’s no predefined narrative; rather, it’s an invitation for the audience to immerse themselves in the currents of the experience, interpreting it based on their unique perspectives and their natural flow.
“In my performances, there’s no predefined narrative. It is an invitation for the audience to immerse themselves in the currents of the experience.”
During the production phase, I begin with conceptualizing ideas and envisioning the sonic and visual environments. Music becomes the canvas on which I shape the overall sonic culture of the work. Then, I introduce visuals, focusing on synchronicity and refining details in the audiovisual material. This iterative process helps create a cohesive and immersive experience. Depending on the performance, I might experiment with the sequence of scenes, responding to the energy and vibe of the audience, ensuring each interaction is distinctive. Given the generative and real-time nature of the work, I design each scene with controllers mapped to specific parameters, essentially performing them like an instrument that orchestrates both mediums seamlessly.
Can you elaborate on the influence of Iranian culture in your work? How important is it to you that the references to Persian traditional arts are identified with your work?
The majority of my work’s concepts draw inspiration from a special era in Persian culture, dating back to the Achaemenid dynasty. It was an era focused on bringing a sense of heaven to earth, rather than solely anticipating a better future after death. This ethos gave rise to the rich arts and crafts of Persian culture, as well as the creation of Persian gardens, which are marked by their distinctive architectural and garden design. Even neighboring countries recognized this cultural heritage. Many of the poets I followed from that era were also scientists, well-versed in fields like astrology and medical sciences, weaving their knowledge seamlessly into their poetry. The educated individuals of that time saw no boundaries between disciplines; rather, they saw a harmonious integration of heart’s desires, intellect, and art.
I find deep inspiration in these timeless connections between different mediums and how they coalesce in a civilized society. Western culture has often compartmentalized these aspects, but in Middle Eastern culture, they were integral parts of a whole. For instance, the Arabic word for art, “fan,” is synonymous with technique. This convergence of mediums was evident in ancient civilizations, and it greatly inspires my work. Having visited these sites since childhood, I’ve developed a profound connection to their sacred geometry and the masterful artistry of those who designed and meticulously crafted them.
“The educated individuals of the Achaemenid dynasty in Persia saw no boundaries between disciplines; rather, they saw a harmonious integration of heart’s desires, intellect, and art.”
In my artistic practice, I incorporate Western and cutting-edge technologies, merging them with the enduring inspiration I derive from that era’s concepts. Ritual music, a genre characterized by its complex and sometimes challenging sounds, is a vital component. It’s deeply intertwined with the life cycle of the singers and musicians. In traditional settings, musicians must attain a certain level of mastery to be permitted to play specific instruments. These are ancient and organic facets of confrontational art that continually fuel my creativity.
In my practice, I remain steadfast in adhering to these foundational ideas and approaches. They are like hidden threads woven into my work, not immediately conspicuous but discernible to those familiar with the culture. These elements serve as the underlying spices that infuse depth and meaning into my creations.
Besides these cultural references, it seems telling that visually your work is characterized by what you have described as “cities or environments out of time and space.” What does this timelessness bring to your work?
The concept of creating “cities or environments out of time and space” has always been central to my artistic vision. I perceive each piece as a fragment of a larger whole, evolving and taking shape over time, akin to pieces of a puzzle. I aim for these installations to serve as a contemporary format, rooted in origins and influences from the past, yet projecting a timeless and futuristic utopia. In engaging with these works, viewers encounter not only art and its meanings, but also an invitation to contemplate existence itself. The essence of my creations lies in providing a digital realm for audiences to immerse themselves in, encouraging them to engage with, observe, and even co-create. This interactive dimension is paramount, as it empowers individuals to embark on a personal journey of introspection and self-discovery.
When conceiving a piece, I approach it as if I were an audience member myself. I design the space, infuse it with ideas, and often perceive it as an extension of the viewer’s experience. This involves creating a framework, coding, and incorporating various mediums, effectively transforming it into a dynamic entity capable of receiving input, generating responses, and facilitating a creative exchange. Ultimately, this interplay with the work serves as a conduit for individuals to explore and connect with their own inner landscapes.
“The essence of my work lies in providing a digital realm for audiences to immerse themselves in, to observe, and even co-create.”
You have said to find beauty in error, would you say that glitch interests you mostly by its aesthetic qualities, or are you interested in the fact that glitch “captures the machine revealing itself,” as Rosa Menkman describes it?
I find a deep fascination in witnessing failures and glitches in various types of working machines or systems. Regardless of a machine’s intended functionality or design purpose, I see beauty in its operation. However, glitches and errors hold a special allure for me. They represent moments where designers and creators didn’t anticipate certain issues, and the resulting visual anomalies are, in my eyes, incredibly captivating.
Glitches, whether they manifest in the physical world or appear in digital spaces, have an inherent aesthetic quality that I find compelling. The unexpected patterns and distortions that emerge, whether in the texture of a physical object or on a screen, are visually intriguing and often breathtaking. This fascination extends to coding and programming as well. Many times, glitches and failures have served as a wellspring of inspiration for me, igniting the creative process.
“Glitches, whether they manifest in the physical world or appear in digital spaces, have an inherent aesthetic quality that I find compelling.”
In both the physical and digital realms, I derive a sense of wonder from encountering these deviations from the norm. Even in nature, there are instances of glitches or anomalies, like unusual formations on a rock or unexpected patterns in a natural setting. These occurrences seem to defy logic, existing in a way that shouldn’t be possible, yet they persist and assert their presence. For me, there is nothing more beautiful than witnessing or experiencing these unique moments in life.
Both as an artist and interaction designer, you have experienced the growth of the open source movement. What have open source tools brought to your work, and how do you see this trend evolving in the context of the growing domination of AI systems?
As a self-taught new media artist and creative technologist, the open source movement has played a pivotal role in shaping my career, particularly in terms of technique. The wealth of resources provided by the open source community, including tutorials, libraries, videos, and other online materials, has been indispensable. Most of the libraries I rely on, whether in JavaScript, Python, or tools like Touchdesigner, are products of dedicated individuals freely sharing their knowledge. This ethos underpins a significant portion of my creative work, and I’m immensely grateful for the existence of this culture.
“The wealth of resources provided by the open source community has been indispensable. I’m immensely grateful for the existence of this culture.”
Regarding AI, I personally don’t perceive any hindrance or threat to my artistic practice. As long as I have creative ideas and the desire to bring them to life, I’ll continue doing so, with or without the assistance of AI. That said, I am deeply intrigued by working with AI models and algorithms. They represent a new frontier for me, akin to a different type of glitch or anomaly that can aid in expediting the creative process. At times, these AI tools introduce unexpected elements or challenges, akin to the price we pay for their existence and utilization of resources. Yet, much like any technological advancement, I view them as a new material to work with, and I’m enthusiastically open to exploring and experimenting with various devices and beings in the digital realm to bring my creative visions to life.
Ali Phi. ENFE’AL 1, 2023
You have described the use of AI algorithms in Agnosia as “a digital creature that takes over the atmosphere.” It is interesting that you see AI as a “creature,” how would you describe your creative process when working with AI systems?
Working with AI systems in my creative process feels like a dual jam session with another person. Especially in my performances, it’s as if I’m playing and interacting with an instrument or player that I’ve brought to life through code. I navigate through the real-time occurrences and reactions of the patch, which unfold in front of the audience. Incorporating AI libraries into my work serves as a means to provide an extensive platform, offering a range of sensors, libraries, and AI models that infuse a new layer of dynamics into the overall concept.
In the case of project Agnosia, I utilized an EEG brainwave interface. The data gathered in real-time was then processed and translated through a trained library, ultimately shaping the deformation of particle systems and point clouds. From my perspective, there’s a seamless continuity between the raw electrical data sourced from my neurons through the headset and the way the AI library processes this data in order to generate meaningful patterns, both sonically and visually. In essence, it all serves as a malleable material for me to explore, extracting reactions, establishing boundaries, and crafting a meaningful interplay that manifests in sound and visuals.
“Working with AI systems in my creative process feels like a dual jam session with another person.”
Enfe’al is based on the audiovisual performance Maqruh, which evokes liminality and is divided into seven phases of the formation of an entity. Can you elaborate on this narrative? What does this notion of evolution bring to the artwork, the performance, and the experience of the viewer?
Enfe’alis one of the scenes within the Maqruh audiovisual performance, which is typically presented in a live performance format. The piece is composed of seven distinct sections, collectively exploring the concept of makruh—a term from Middle Eastern terminology denoting a detestable act that falls in a gray area between forbidden and permitted. These sections together trace the cyclical journey of an entity through phases of passivity, avoidance, constriction, conformity, elevation, expiry, and revival.
While my work draws inspiration from Middle Eastern cultures and motifs, it goes beyond mere representation. There is no explicit storytelling or directional guidance for the audience. Instead, there exists a comprehensive concept that unifies the different segments of the performance. It endeavors to establish connections between these seven phases, creating an immersive and cohesive experience. For me, this concept mirrors a broader theme in the creation process. It reflects a point of uncertainty, like standing at a crossroads where decisions need to be made, but the outcome remains uncertain. This sense of uncertainty and decision-making is a recurrent theme in my interactions with the code I write and in the process of crafting installations. It revolves around determining the best approach, weighing the possibilities of success or failure, and ultimately making a choice.
In crafting my work, I follow a consistent pattern of infusing ideas rooted in the culture I’ve grown up in. I delve into intricate details and motifs, transforming them into a canvas for generating code and A/V content. This process allows me to integrate cultural elements with the technical framework, resulting in a unique and immersive experience for the audience.
Ali Phi. AGNOSIA 6, 2022
Agnosia refers to processes of memory and incorporates your reaction to your own recollections, AI algorithms, and glitch. What led you to work so introspectively, with your own memories, and brainwave data?
The concept behind the project Agnosia emerged from my deep-seated interest in architecture, particularly my fascination with the intricacies of spatial geometry. I noticed a recurring pattern in how our brains process spatial information, like the way robots operate at storage warehouses employ similar principles for efficient navigation and routing. It intrigued me how certain locations could evoke distinct sensations and memories, yet the precise triggers remained elusive. I became captivated by the interplay between architecture and the spatial formations that contribute to this phenomenon.
In industries like robotics, this process is utilized for navigation, but what sets humans apart is our capacity to record and experience these feelings. This aspect, however, is often overlooked in industrial applications. I sought to delve into this unexplored territory, aiming to introduce a live feedback loop that could simulate and evoke sensations based on the random associations AI algorithms can generate.
To achieve this, I embarked on a process of recording various natural and man-made locations, feeding them into a software system that could recreate these spaces using EEG data obtained while I immersed myself in these environments. It was akin to the software acting as an extension of my senses, generating new spaces based on the data it received through my eyes. The resulting information was then fed back into the system, applying deformations to create these synthesized spaces.
“Agnosia integrates my introspective exploration of memory recalling processes, brainwave data, and architectural influences, creating a unique, immersive experience.”
While I’ve presented some of the scenes and processed videos as static representations, the core of the project lies in its dynamic nature. The main patch serves as a generative art engine, fueled by pre-recorded EEG data from my performances. This could be presented in real-time, with the EEG device attached to my head, continuously generating new visual spaces based on my gaze and cognitive responses. In essence, Agnosia integrates my introspective exploration of memory recalling processes, brainwave data, and architectural influences, bringing them together through the interplay of an AI “creature” and glitches to create a unique, immersive experience for both myself and the audience.
