The 4th plinth hit the headlines again last week. I’m interested in the idea and openness of what Gormley proposes as well as the participatory function of the art work. It is his concept that resounds most strongly for me, as the role of normal art consumption is inverted by turning the viewer into the viewed however in doing so the spectacle wains.
I recently watched someone sitting on the plinth, looking bored and as I did it seemed to me that I was just expecting too much. By putting a person on the plinth, the expectations the viewer brings to the experience is altered so no longer is it enough to simply look at the figure knowing they are capable of more than statuesque silence.
Another plinth that changes the role of the viewer into that of a participant is Greyworld’s “Monument” behind the Tate Modern. In this case the viewer is mimicked by the figure, which tracks their movement using cameras and strikes a pose in response. It is not obvious that this statue is anything out of the ordinary. There are no signs or reasons to interact, so I assume that was a deliberate design choice to create surprise although it was either broken or taking a break when I tried it out and nothing could rouse the statue. The result was a interesting piece of interactive design in concept alone.
These two plinths tried to do something different and succeeded but also lost a lot of people along the way. It’s an interesting reminder that when the context is changed one also needs to consider what the viewer user participant brings with them in terms of expectation as this will alter their resulting experience.
My TV has been malfunctioning recently to create beautiful visual glitches. I’m enjoying the idea of it becoming an autonomous art generating machine. The glitches remind me of Brian Eno’s 7 million paintings, Autechre and Casey Reas’s generative art amongst others. Each of these artists use algorithms with a sensitive dependence upon initial conditions. The process produces a cornucopia of results which although preconceived programatically often render random unforeseen artifacts as the program runs. Their talent is in giving this randomness meaning.
The computer as a result becomes part author in the creative process. As a designer who writes code, I find this approach to creative expression fascinating. There is an exactness to programming. Syntax is formal and a rogue ; or missed { means the difference between an idea compiling or not. It is scientific. On the other side there is subjective beauty. An oft unquantifiable, emotion response. It is artistic. The computer has engendered a new breed of creative. A technological astuteness with a sensitive dependence upon emotional conditions.
There are however few truly original talents who manage to balance the left and right hemispheres with apparent ease which is not surprising given many people’s natural bias for one or other. I’m thinking of Maeda, Levin, Nakamura, Rokeby. I asked David Rokeby about this diversity of discipline.
When compared to hand rendered work, programs can run infinite times producing precisely the same result each time. The hand of the computer is plain to see.
Hand rendering however cannot achieve this and as such displays wonderful qualities of uniqueness, the one off. The hand of the human is plain to see. .
In some ways randomness is a way for the programmer/artist to imbue a sense of one-offness. It can bring sterile exactness to life, add unknowns and in doing so reveal a more humanistic sense of involvement or as Rokeby explained more poetically;
So as the TV continues to blink, stutter and scramble through an episode of Stars on Skates or some other guff the broadcasters typically push out I’m rather more interested in the ingenious patterns a malfunctioning chip has happened to create.
Below is a collection of some of these which made “Homes under the Hammer” actually worth watching. Do I get it fixed?… not quite yet.
If you have examples of creative serendipity drop a comment below.
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