Alexitimia is a term that means the incapacity to verbalize emotions, and it is the name of this robot that looks nothing like a robot. Alexitimia invites contemplation as it quietly exudes a dual impression of severity in its form and sensuousness in its surface. It passively invites a viewer to resort to touch, so as to satisfy an inevitable curiosity about what it is made of. Its only response is an autonomic body phenomenon: sweating. There is a strong sense of logic in this work that arises from two sources: the thorough research that the artist has carried out into the history and current state of artificial intelligence and robotic embodiments; and her carefully thought out responses to the material problems of embodying her own ideas on those subjects. These are focused on the elimination of all communicative exchange between the robot and its environment other than a purely corporeal language. The only sensors are for touch and the only output is water that runs from a tank hidden in the base of the work. It is creative intuition that permits both the artist and the viewer to leap over logic, whether scientific or artistic, and emotionally experience the problem laid out here of reconciling the "wet" domain of nature with the "dry" domain of electronics. There is even an element of humour in this paradox of Alexitimia’s functioning, which adds a further ironic commentary to the first impression we have of this work as a minimalist sculpture.
Waves utilizes a basic construction of a long piece of elastic string and two motors to visualize the presence of people close to the installation. The string twirls between the two motorized chambers to produce a sine-wave simulation that eloquently resembles both the digitization of real-time sound waves and patterns of flow and connectivity found in natural systems. Jimenez's work is a clear manifestation of how the simple act of making the "invisible" visible can produce profound effects in both our understanding of the world around us and the close relationship we have to the natural and built environment that we occupy daily. Although the project may seem like a simple visualization of intangible forms, it nevertheless connects to our visceral side by creating unique sound output and striking visual stimuli that engage with "persistence of vision" and our connection to the spaces we occupy and their sonic and electromagnetic inhabitants.
Prefabricated electronics made of synthetic materials are stripped down and then recombined in surprising new ways. The animated, sensor-laden objects thus produced are at once obviously familiar, and alienated by playful recontextualisation where they are made to interact with one another, and with the spectators. Whimsical bridging occurs between organic and synthetic materials and movements: for example, by functionally linking an automatic light switch to video footage of the artist’s eye, the relationship established between human blinking and a flashing light bulb appears both oddly logical and deeply poetic. When movements of multiplied eyeball images on a video screen are used to control inflatable plastic tubes and coloured lights connected to the monitor, the resultant creature seems to live a life of its own. All “organs” of the creatures inhabiting this interactive space are deliberately kept transparent through the use of different kinds of plastics. Paradoxically, this legibility of their “bodily” functions makes them still more mysterious and biologically convincing, like luminescent jellyfish. Ex-DD-06 is a finely crafted homage to remix culture, a charmed world where common appliances shake off their tedious functional shackles to become part of a magical playground.
Attributing emotions to inorganic beings is an archaic human ploy seen in the long history of puppets and effigies. The story of Petrouchka’s unrequited love for the Ballerina transfers this ancient fantasy to the realm of today’s interactive automata. In Asa Unander-Scharin’s installation, the audience literally winds up the Ballerina with a crank handle, and her pirouetting vertical figure releases magnetic signals that drive Petrouchka’s computer-choreographed movements and his falling tears, while controlling the electroacoustic remix of Stravinsky’s piano score. The Motographicon choreographic processing programme, of which the artist is a co-developer, is subtly used to maximise the affective qualities of Petrouchka’s gestures: he reaches out to the ballerina, straightens up hopefully, then sighs and slumps, resigned to his limits. The puppet has been built to allow these emotionally communicative postures to be emphasised, through fine adjustments of spine, head and arm movements. Whereas puppets described in Heinrich Von Kleist’s famous text are “not afflicted with the inertia of matter”, this figure is poignantly afflicted with the emotional and mechanical hold of the obliviously pirouetting ballerina. Gravity is manifest as the fatal attraction exerted on Petrouchka by the indifferent dancer, and as the weight of the doomed puppet’s feelings, its tears helplessly marking time like a metronome.
The communication in this work is mediated by a-life agents that animate a three-dimensional space they
share with human participants who are at either end of a remote connection. It is a user-friendly setup,
with one computer configured as a server and another set up as a client, an IP network connecting the two.
Actually, the role of the virtual agents goes well beyond either assistance or mediation here, since they
pretty much take over the communication. The humans speak, but it is only when they move in front of their
webcams that their messages are memorized by the flock of tiny cartoon-like bots, who then move forward in
the virtual space toward the participant on the other side of the connection and relay a message. The
intervention of the agents is very immediate and tangible, because they perk up their mini ears when they
detect sound, speak in little squeaky voices, flutter about like the famous boids of Craig Reynolds, and
editorialize by framing the start and end of messages with their comments (“please listen”, “that’s all”).
They also express their boredom if there is no sound. The sense of dimensionality that is created is the
most novel aspect of this work. The participants’ images are visible at the back of the space as it appears
to each of them, but these video captures are overshadowed by the palpable space that is occupied by the
busy little agents who aren’t in the least shy, even if their human counterparts may be.
The boundaries of the human body are metaphorically extended and distorted in this work, by means of a
viscerally rendered graphic that is projected in two views on the walls of the installation space. The
graphic doesn’t depict a body; rather, it is composed of multiple polygons forming a geometrical shape
that seems to reach out to encompass any bodies that are present. A performer takes her or his place in
the centre of a platform located on the floor, and others can step onto the platform to interact with
the performer. If one of these participants touches the performer the graphics are especially reactive,
giving the sense of an electrified contact between bodies that nullifies individualized selves in favour
of a merged identity. The whole platform is the interface. It is sensitive to both the position of feet
and to the bio-magnetic fields around the bodies standing and moving on it. Electromagnetic radio
frequency sensor plates under the platform track the movement around the performer, using low-frequency
and low-voltage electric signals that react to the capacitance of the bodies. The audience participants
function as receivers and the performer as an antenna, for the transmission of data about proximity and
touch. The captured data generates an acoustic surround and is translated onto the screens, where the
graphics expressively contort in relation to the flow of people.
In traditional south-east Asian rice cultivation, Azolla water ferns hosting nitrogen-fixing Anabaena
bacterial cultures are ploughed into rice paddy soil as a nutrient. The Autoinducer_Ph-1 “cross cultural
chemistry” project transplants this symbiotic relationship to create a living installation where plants
and microorganisms are connected to an artificial intelligence programme which drives various actuators
in the physical environment. Digitised stimuli produced by Anabaena cultures are taken up by Rowe’s
Generalised Cellular Signalling (GCS) AI system, a virtual environment featuring bacterial cells in 3D
space that interact with each other and with input chemicals, and release signalling molecules based on
the real Anabaena status. The GCS bacteria signals control robotic arms that scoop Azolla from its pool
onto ramps leading to the rice paddy, where blades pulp the water fern yielding nitrogen rich fertiliser.
Sound harvested from microphones positioned throughout the installation is processed to create a unified
sonic environment, and also bathes the Anabaena and Azolla culture containers via specific speakers. The
installation features large video projections which display evolution of the GCS 3D graphic environment,
and highly magnified video of Anabaena cultured under a video microscope. The installation loops biological,
electro-robotic and computing processes together in a literally fertile interaction where the “primal soup”
aspect of the Anabaena and Azolla cultures, and fragility of the young rice shoots, contrast strikingly
with the computer-generated artificial chemistry molecules of the GCS.
Tango Virus is an interactive installation where couples from the public dance to a tango theme, and motion
data obtained by camera tracking of their movements feeds into and gradually deforms the music, a well-known
piece by Astor Piazzola, in real time. Motion data derived from the dancer's movements is transformed into a
virus that attacks the musical composition. On projection screens surrounding the dance floor we observe the
vividly sketched pattern generated by the trace of the dance, and the way in which this pattern, transformed
into a virus, infects the music. The composition gradually breaks up and becomes increasingly unrecognizable.
While the musical element is endowed with an immune system, the dance may lead to complete annihilation of the
theme. Because tango is a dance form characterised by clear rules which govern the direction of movement,
trajectories and occupation of space, this viral battle is aesthetically intriguing. It also puts an
interesting twist on the idea that good tango dancers are those who make the music visible, since in this case,
it is the dancers' tracked movements made visible which actually destroy the music, putting their
improvisational virtuosity to an ultimate test. Tango Virus goes beyond often anecdotal links between
dance and technology, drawing on artificial life concepts to enrich our readings of a complex, highly
stylised choreographic form, and creating a rich counterpoint between the dynamic patterns that characterise
human and computer-created living systems.
Our historical fascination with cyber-robotic creatures and devices is beginning to manifest itself in
unforeseen ways. Taking these hybrid forms to an extreme is Canadian artist Garnet Hertz's unique mobile robot.
The project examines the tension between mechanized systems and the natural beings that control and operate
them. Hertz's work places a live, Madagascan hissing cockroach atop a modified trackball so that when the bug
moves, it controls the speed and direction of the three-wheeled robot it is perched upon. An array of LED
panels stimulate the roach's sensory inputs to direct it towards or away from obstacles. If developed further,
the project could point to connections between animal and machine interfaces that could lead to improved
services, such as search and rescue applications. Hertz's hybridization of "insect and machine" creates a
compelling examination into the future of autonomous natural systems that have the potential to augment and
strengthen our relationship to, and dependency on, other living creatures to survive.
The "Surveillance Video Entertainment Network" (SVEN) is a customized computer vision system that detects
when people moving through densely populated urban spaces resemble "rock stars". Although this
interpretation may seem subjective to most, the system examines each person's likelihood of being a rock
star by analyzing a few key components of their appearance, such as how much "black" they are wearing,
how pale their skin is, the darkness of their hair, along with a few other key factors. Once target is
detected, the project proceeds to dynamically create a music video from the footage and present it on a
monitor for public view. By shifting the focus from closed-circuit television's (CCTV) usual search for
potential "terrorists", "criminals", or "undesirables", SVEN produces a playful interaction between our
social expectations of surveillance systems and the reality of urban fashion and modern street life. The
project is a reminder that surveillance systems may have the potential to create striking and unexpected
connections between people occupying densely populated cityscapes.
The chaos of large cities can reveal complex urban processes such as the recycling of technological waste and antagonistic ways of life. “Urban Parasites” proposes to create a species of robot insects built out of technological and industrial waste materials. Like all parasites, they will depend on an energy source, in this case the streetlamps of the hyper-populated city of Mexico D.F. These bugs will have motorized legs to allow them to move around and get away from approaching pedestrians. They will be equipped with a small radio transmitter to which nearby automobiles will be able to tune in. The transmission will contain urban noises and sounds captured by these parasites during their urban adventure. They will also react to automobile horns by generating sounds of an equal magnitude. These parasites can be defined as beings that subvert the urban context, but that also depend on such environment for survival.
up>>Weightless Column will consist in two spinal columns formed by two communities of independent robots that can organize themselves, adapt, and learn from their surroundings. The intention of the artists is to explore the concept of evolution applied to bio-inspired mechanisms. The “bone-robots” will align to form the columns that will advance in space guided by the presence and movement of the user.
up>>A robot tree, with a trunk and branches that can constantly change size and length, will continually change its shape to project a shadow of the same length, regardless of the time of day. At night and on cloudy days, a light source will be turned on so that the same shadow is projected. Unlike a living tree, whose shadow changes constantly depending on the position of the sun, this dead robot tree will constantly change its shape to always project the same shadow.
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