Pit Schultz on Sun, 11 Feb 96 19:02 MET |
[Date Prev] [Date Next] [Thread Prev] [Thread Next] [Date Index] [Thread Index]
nettime: The Aesthetics of Virtual Worlds - Lev Manovich 2/2 |
Jakobson writes about verbal communication between two people who, in order to check whether the channel works, address each other: "Do you hear me?," "Do you understand me?" But in Web communication there is no human addresser, only a machine. So as the user keeps checking whether the information is coming, he actually addresses the machine itself. Or rather, the machine addresses the user. The machine reveals itself, it reminds the user of its existence -- not only because the user is forced to wait but also because he is forced to witness how the message is being constructed over time. A page fills in part by part, top to bottom; text comes before images; images arrive in low resolution and are gradually refined. Finally, everything comes together in a smooth sleek image -- the image which will be destroyed with the next click. Will this temporal dynamic ever be eliminated? Will spatialized Net become a perfect Utopian city rather than remaining a gigantic construction site? An examination of already existing 3D virtual worlds points toward a negative answer to this question. Consider the technique called "distancing" or "level of detail," which for years has been used in VR simulations and is now being adapted to 3D games and VRML scenes. The idea is to render the models more crudely when the user is moving through virtual space; when the user stops, detail gradually fills in. Another variation of the same technique involves creating a number of models of the same object, each with progressively less detail. When the virtual camera is close to an object, a highly detailed model is used; if the object is far away, a lesser detailed version is substituted to save unnecessary computation. A virtual world which incorporates these techniques has a fluid ontology that is affected by the actions of the user. As the user navigates through space the objects switch back and forth between pale blueprints and fully fleshed out illusions. The immobility of a subject guarantees a complete illusion; the slightest movement destroys it. Navigating a Quicktime VR movie is characterized by a similar dynamic. In contrast to the nineteenth century panorama that it closely emulates, Quicktime VR continuously deconstructs its own illusion. The moment you begin to pan through the scene, the image becomes jagged. And, if you try to zoom into the image, all you get are oversized pixels. The representational machine keeps hiding and revealing itself. Compare this dynamic to traditional cinema or realist theater which aims at all costs to maintain the continuity of the illusion for the duration of the performance. In contrast to such totalizing realism, digital aesthetics have a surprising affinity to twentieth century leftist avant-garde aesthetics. Bertold Brecht's strategy to reveal the conditions of an illusion's production, echoed by countless other leftist artists, became embedded in hardware and software themselves. Similarly, Walter Benjamin's concept of "perception in the state of distraction" [29] found a perfect realization. The periodic reappearance of the machinery, the continuous presence of the communication channel in the message prevent the subject from falling into the dream world of illusion for very long, making him alternate between concentration and detachment. While virtual machinery itself already acts as an avant-garde director, the designers of interactive media (games, CD-ROM titles, interactive cinema, and interactive television programs) often consciously attempt to structure the subject's temporal experience as a series of periodic shifts. The subject is forced to oscillate between the roles of viewer and user, shifting between perceiving and acting, between following the story and actively participating in it. During one segment the computer screen presents the viewer with an engaging cinematic narrative. Suddenly the image freezes, menus and icons appear and the viewer is forced to act: make choices; click; push buttons. (Moscow media theorist Anataly Prokhorov describes this process as the shift of the screen shifts from being transparent to being opaque -- from a window into a fictional 3D universe to a solid surface, full of menus, controls, text and icons. [30] Three-dimensional space becomes surface; a photograph becomes a diagram; a character becomes an icon.) Can Brecht and Hollywood be married? Is it possible to create a new temporal aesthetic based on such cyclical shifts? So far, I can think of only one successful example -- a military simulator, the only mature form of interactive media. It perfectly blends perception and action, cinematic realism and computer menus. The screen presents the subject with an illusionistic virtual world while periodically demanding quick actions: shooting at the enemy; changing the direction of a vehicle; and so on. In this art form, the roles of a viewer and a actant are blended perfectly -- but there is a price to pay. The narrative is organized around a single and clearly defined goal: staying alive. 4. Riegl, Panofsky, and Computer Graphics: Regression in Virtual Worlds The last aesthetic principle of virtual worlds that I will address can be summarized as follows: virtual spaces are not true spaces but collections of separate objects. Or: there is no space in cyberspace. To explore this thesis further we can borrow the categories developed by art historians early in this century. The founders of modern art history (Alois Riegl, Heinrich Wlfflin, and Erwin Panofsky) defined their field as the history of the representation of space. Working within the paradigms of cyclic cultural development and racial topology, they related the representation of space in art to the spirit of entire epochs, civilizations, and races. In his 1901 "Die Sp cultural development as the oscillation between two extreme poles, two ways to understand space, which he called "haptic" and "optic." Haptic perception isolates the object in the field as a discrete entity, while optic perception unifies objects in a spatial continuum. Riegl's contemporary, Heinrich Wlfflin, similarly proposed that the temperament of a period or a nation expresses itself in a particular mode of seeing and representing space. Wlfflin's "Principles of Art History" (1913) plotted the differences between Renaissance and Baroque on five dimensions: linear -- painterly; plane -- recession; closed form -- open form; multiplicity -- unity; and clearness -- unclearness. Finally, another founder of modern art history, Erwin Panofsky, contrasted the "aggregate" space of the Greeks with the "systematic" space of the Italian Renaissance in a famous essay "Perspective as a Symbolic Form" (1924- 1925). Panofsky established a parallel between the history of spatial representation and the evolution of abstract thought. The former moves from the space of individual objects in antiquity to the representation of space as continuous and systematic in modernity; in Panofsky's neologisms, from "aggregate" space to "systematic" space. Correspondingly, the evolution of abstract thought progresses from ancient philosophy's view of the physical universe as discontinuous to the post-Renaissance understanding of space as infinite, ontologically primal in relation to bodies, homogeneous, and isotropic -- in short, as "systematic." We don't have to believe in grand evolutionary schemes but we can retain the categories themselves. What kind of space is a virtual space? At first glance, 3D computer graphics, the main technology of creating virtual spaces, exemplify Panofsky's concept of Renaissance "systematic" space which exists prior to the objects. Indeed, the Cartesian coordinate system is hardwired into computer graphics software and often into the hardware itself. [31] When a designer launches a modeling program, he is typically presented with an empty space defined by a perspectival grid, the space that will be gradually filled by the objects he will create. If the built-in message of a music synthesizer is a sine wave, the built-in world of computer graphics is an empty Renaissance space, the coordinate system itself. Yet computer generated worlds are actually much more "haptic" and "aggregate" when "optic" and "systematic." The most commonly used 3D computer graphics technique to create 3D worlds is polygonal modeling. The virtual world created using this techique is a vacuum filled with separate objects defined by rigid boundaries. A perspective projection creates the illusion that these objects belong together but in fact they have no connection to each other. What is missing is space in the sense of space-environment or space-medium: the environment between objects; an atmosphere which unites everything together; the effects of objects on each other. Another basic technique used in creating virtual worlds -- compositing (superimposing, keying)-- also leads to an "aggregate" space. It involves superimposing animated characters, still images, Quicktime movies, and other graphical elements over a separate background. A typical scenario may involve an avatar animated in real time in response to the user's commands. The avatar is superimposed over a picture of a room. An avatar is controlled by the user; a picture of a room is provided by a virtual world operator. Because the elements come from different sources and are put together in real time, the result is a series of 2D planes rather than a real 3D environment. In summary, although computer generated virtual worlds are usually rendered in linear perspective, they are really collections of separate objects, unrelated to each other. In view of this, commonly expressed arguments that 3D computer graphics send us back to Renaissance perspectivalism and therefore, from the viewpoint of twentieth century abstraction, should be considered regressive, turn out to be ungrounded. If we are to apply the evolutionary paradigm of Panofsky to the history of virtual computer space, it has not even achieved its Renaissance yet. It is still on the level of Ancient Greece which could not conceive of space as a totality. And, if the World Wide Web and VRML 1.0 are any indications, we are not moving any closer toward systematic space; instead, we are embracing "aggregate" space as a new norm, both metaphorically and literally. The "space" of the Web in principle can't be thought of as a coherent totality: it is a collection of numerous files, hyperlinked but without any overall "perspective" to unite them. The same holds for actual 3D spaces on the Internet. A VRML file which describes a 3D scene is a list of separate objects which may exist anywhere on the Internet, each created by a different person or a different program. The objects have no connection to each other. And, since any user can add or delete objects, no one may even know the complete structure of the scene. The Web has already been compared to the American Wild West. The spatialized Web as envisioned by VRML (itself a product of California) even more closely reflects the treatment of space in American culture: the lack of attention to space which is not functionally used. The territories that exist between privately owned houses and businesses are left to decay. The VRML universe simply does not contain space as such -- only objects which belong to different individuals. And what is an object in a virtual world? Something which can be acted upon: clicked; moved; opened -- in short, used. It is tempting to interpret this as regression to the world view of an infant. A child does not think of the universe as existing separately from himself -- it appears as a collection of unrelated objects with which he can enter in contact: touch; suck on; grab. Similarly, the user of a virtual world tries to click on whatever is in front of him; if the objects do not respond, he is disappointed. In the virtual universe, Descartes' maxim can be rewritten as follows: "I can be clicked on, therefore I exist." 5. The Whole Picture I have discussed different aesthetic features of 3D virtual worlds. But what would a future full-blown virtual world feel like? What would be its overall gestalt? One example of a highly detailed virtual world, complete with landscapes and human beings, is provided by Disney's 1995 "Toy Story," the first completely computer-animated feature length film. Frighteningly sterile, this is the world in which the toys and the humans look absolutely alike, the later appearing as macabre automatons. If you want to experience cyberspace of the future today, visit the place where "Toy Story" was made -- Los Angeles. The city offers a precise model for the virtual world. There is no center, no hint of any kind of centralized organization, no traces of the hierarchy essential to traditional cities. One drives to particular locations defined strictly by their street addresses rather than by spatial landmarks. A trendy restaurant or club can be found in the middle of nowhere, among the miles of completely unremarkable buildings. The whole city feels like a set of particular points suspended in a vacuum, similar to a bookmark file of Web pages. You are immediately charged on arrival to any worthwhile location, again like on the Web (mandatory valet parking). There you discover the trendy inhabitants (actors, singers, models, producers) who look like some new race, a result of successful mutation: unbelievably beautiful skin and faces; fixed smiles; and bodies whose perfect shapes surely can't be the result of human evolution. They probably come from the Viewpoint catalog of 3D models. These are not people but avatars: beautifully rendered with no polygons spared; shaped to the latest fashion; their faces switching between a limited number of expressions. Given the potential importance of any communicative contact, subtlety is not tolerated: avatars are designed to release stimuli the moment you notice them, before you have time to click to the next scene. The best place to experience the whole gestalt is in one of the outdoor cafes on Sunset Plaza in West Hollywood. The avatars sip cappuccino amidst the illusion of 3D space. The space is clearly the result of a quick compositing job: billboards and airbrushed cafe interior in the foreground against a detailed matte painting of Los Angeles with the perspective exaggerated by haze. The avatars strike poses, waiting for their agents (yes, just like in cyberspace) to bring valuable information. Older customers look even more computer generated, their faces bearing traces of extensive face-lifts. You can enjoy the scene while feeding the parking meter every twenty minute. A virtual world is waiting for you; all we need is your credit card number. NOTES 1. Some of the ideas in this essay were presented by me at ISEA '95, Montreal, September 1995. 2. William Gibson, NEUROMANCER (New York: Ace Books, 1984). 3. Michael Benedict, ed., CYBERSPACE: FIRST STEPS (Cambridge, Mass.: The MIT Press, 1991). 4. Chip Morningstar and F. Randall Farmer, "The Lessons of Lucasfilm's Habitat," in CYBERSPACE: FIRST STEPS, ed. Michael Benedict (Cambridge, Mass.: The MIT Press, 1991), 273-302. 5. Howard Rheingold, VIRTUAL REALITY (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1991), 360-361. 6. See Tony Reveaux, "Virtual Reality Gets Real," NEW MEDIA (January 1993): 39. 7. Virtual World Entertainment, Inc., Press Release, SIGGRAPH '95, Los Angeles, August 7-1, 1995. 8. Gavin Bell, Anthony Parisi and Mark Pesce, "The Virtual Reality Modeling Language. Version 1.0 Specfication," May 26, 1995. A WWW document. 9. Mark Pesce, Peter Kennard and Anthony Parisi, "Cyberspace." A WWW document. 10. Bell, Parisi and Pesce. 11. http://www.worlds.net/info/aboutus.html 12. Richard Karpinski, "Chat Comes to the Web," INTERACTIVE AGE (July 3, 1995): 6. 13. http://www.ubique.com 14. In September of 1995, Ubique was purchased by America Online -- a significant development since America Online is already the most graphically oriented among the commercial networks based in the U.S. 15. http://www.worlds.net/alphaworld/ 16. For instance, Silicon Graphics developed a 3D file system which was showcased in the movie "Jurassic Park." The interface of Sony's MagicLink personal communicator is a picture of a room while Apple's E-World greets its users with a drawing of a city. 17. Barbara Robertson, "Those Amasing Flying Machines," COMPUTER GRAPHICS WORLD (May 1992): 69. 18. Ibid. 19. Neal Stephenson, SNOW CRASH (New York: Bantam Books, 1992), 43. 20. Ibid., 37. 21. http://www.viewpoint.com 22. E.H. Gombrich, ART AND ILLUSION (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1960); Roland Barthes, "The Death of the Author," in IMAGE, MUSIC, TEXT, ed. Stephen Heath (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1977). 23. Barthes, 142. 24. Bulat Galeyev, SOVIET FAUST. LEV THEREMIN -- PIONNEER OF ELECTRONIC ART (in Russian) (Kazan, 1995), 19. 25. For a more detailed analysis of realism in 3D computer graphics, see Lev Manovich, "Assembling Reality: Myths of Computer Graphics," AFTERIMAGE 20, no. 2 (September 1992): 12-14. 26. http://www.ubique.com/places/gallery.html 27. http://www.virtpark.com/factinfo.html 28. See Roman Jakobson, "Closing Statement: Linguistics and Poetics," in STYLE IN LANGAUGE, ed. Thomas Sebeok (Cambridge, Mass.: The MIT Press, 1960). 29. Walter Benjamin, "The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction," in ILLUMINATIONS, ed. Hannah Arendt (New York: Schochen Books, 1969). 30. Private communication, September 1995, St. Petersburg. 31. See Lev Manovich, "Mapping Space: Perspective, Radar and Computer Graphics," in SIGGRAPH '93 VISUAL PROCEEDINGS, ed. Simon Penny (New York: ACM, 1993). -- * distributed via nettime-l : no commercial use without permission * <nettime> is a closed moderated mailinglist for net criticism, * collaborative text filtering and cultural politics of the nets * more info: majordomo@is.in-berlin.de and "info nettime" in the msg body * URL: http://www.desk.nl/nettime/ contact: nettime-owner@is.in-berlin.de