The small hand-held device Limenia picks up electromagnetic radiation from the surrounding and turns it into sound. In transposing this "electrosphere" into the spectrum of human perception, the device serves as an interface, allowing us to undertake speculations about this ordinarily imperceptible hyperobject that we create with our skyrocketing information and communication infrastructure and that may affect us everyday, all the time.
The drifters. A peculiar group of a dozen people in big raincoats. They follow a string of holiday lights, wrapped around the rod of a black umbrella and dancing through wind and weather like an electrified firefly. Their ritualistic appearance as non-speaking crowd, confidently and calmly marching through abandoned streets against the backdrop of the pouring rain, is completed by an engulfing soundtrack of church bells, engine sounds, recorded voices, and ambient pieces of music emerging from the wooden speakers some of them carry.
Sound can spark images. I can listen to sound to intensify my environment, I can listen to sound to escape my environment, and I can listen to sound to travel. While on Gozo, I field-recorded 131 individual audio files of a decent quality with a total length of a bit more than 7 hours. This blog post is now an exploration on how to make use of these island sound recordings in the framework taught on the fieldcourse and a performative response to the question: How to (academically) write about and present recorded audio?
Springweg is one of the longest and certainly the oldest street in the city centre of Utrecht. It is a lively, but private street and on every corner one gets the air of something hidden behind the smalltownish facades, stories and memories that shimmer through the buildings and seem to wait to be uncovered by the occasional flâneur that has no specific place to go and just came here to be. But how to uncover an old street's mysteries?
Sounds are more than mere traces of real world objects that add another flavour and can be tracked back to what we see. Sound itself is generative for the world: The sound's source can not be grasped indepently from the sound's perception, as "listening cannot contemplate the object/phenomenon heard separate from its audition because the object does not precede listening."
To address the difficult relationship between data and opinion and the resulting general skepticism towards top-down provided data [urban interfaces] invited artists, researchers, and students to a one-day hackathon with the mission to design an installation in public space that allows its audience to interact with data deemed relevant to the upcoming election and therefore make it more tangible for the everyday Dutch citizen that gets to give their vote in the 2017 election.
In spring 2016 in the frame of SPRING Festival 2016 in Utrecht I visited Dries Verhoeven's Guilty Landscapes Episode 1: Hangzhou. Up to date the most remarkable video installation-experience I had: I arrived on the nondescript installation location somewhere in a small exhibition room in Utrecht's city centre on time for a 10-minute-frame, in which… Continue reading Immersed in Digital Interaction with Art
In spring 2016 the exhibition Hacking Habitat - Art of Control in Utrecht featured "Home", Holly Herndon's "definite NSA break up anthem", an original song with a music video made by Dutch Metahaven, in which the portrayed artist tries to process the trauma of the gobal surveillance disclosures following the Snowden leaks and draw the necessary personal consequences. In this blogpost I attempt to investigate why Herndon's protagonist might feel the need for a break up and in a larger sense: How did we enter a relationship with our own personal Pocket Panopticon and why should we consider ending it?