Josephine Berry on Tue, 26 Oct 1999 00:44:42 +0200 (CEST) |
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<nettime> Information as Muse [part 2] |
Art on the eve of the information technological revolution was still operating within the presence/absence paradigm. Ideas and information - two centrally important constituents of conceptual art - were perceived as existing independently of their material substrate, or better, information was perceived as belonging to the (platonic) realm of the idea. Their 'perfunctory' reification spelled a sort of fixity or immutability which was a consequence of the analogue nature of the storage media. Conceptual art of '60s and '70s often relied on typed and printed text, audio tape, photography, film, video and Xerox copy to preserve the ephemeral event or to store the idea for an action that might be performed at some unspecified future date Writing in the 'postface' to her 1973 book, <italic>Six Years: The Dematerialisation of the Art Object</italic>, Lucy Lippard remarked: "Hopes that 'conceptual art' would be able to avoid the general commercialisation, the destructively 'progressive' approach of modernism were for the most part unfounded. It seemed in 1969...that no one, not even a public greedy for novelty, would actually pay money, or much of it, for a Xerox sheet referring to an event past or never directly perceived, a group of photographs documenting an ephemeral situation or condition, a project for work never to be completed, words spoken but not recorded; it seemed that these artists would therefore be forcibly freed from the tyranny of a commodity status and market-orientation." >From this list one gets a sense of how separate the actual artwork (the idea, the action, the spoken word) was perceived as being from its capture, and therefore the surprise with which artists watched as these second order documentations of their work started to gain a commodity value of their own. If we compare this notion to the perception and operations of net art - for which not only is the medium far more pointedly the message, but also for which its reification does not imply stasis - we can apprehend quite how different these two historical moments are. In short, for conceptual artists of the '60s and '70s the information economy had not yet become a reality and hence ideas and information could remain sites of resistance to commodification so long as they remained unreified (which artists inevitably failed to achieve). A feature of conceptual art that more closely anticipates the practices of net art is the interest which artists and curators took in harnessing the portability of the work and the increasingly cheap and available technologies of reproduction and communication to accelerate its distribution, bypass art world structures, forge closer and alternative networks between artists and break through the parochialism of art practice to create a real internationalism. The informationalisation of art was seen as a prerequisite to its transmission through presence/absence based media (speech, documents carried in suitcases, letters, phone calls etc.) Information and communication were intimately linked attributes of art's dematerialisation and the attendant desire to route around the dominated field of art practice. Artists were looking to take mediation into their own hands. As curator Seth Siegelaub explained, in 1967: "Communication relates to art three ways: (1) Artists knowing what other artists are doing. (2) The art community knowing what artists are doing. (3) The world knowing what artists are doing...It's my concern to make it known to multitudes." Early net artworks such as Alexei Shulgin's <italic>Refresh</italic> project displayed a similar wish to connect up individuals (there was no stipulation that they be artists) from around the world. Primarily using mailing lists - one of the Internet's key community building devices - Shulgin sent out invitations to participate in a collective artwork. Participants had simply to build a webpage that would act as an interface. The webpage, once built, was then incorporated into a 'refresh loop' - this involves inserting a command into the HTML code which instructs the page to be refreshed after 10 seconds and then substitutes the first downloaded file for the next in a chain of files, usually stored on different servers. The effect is a flickering chain of downloading webpages, all designed by different individuals and groups, more often of interest in combination than in isolation. It functions as a snap-shot of a community of enthusiasts and artists at a particular period in the Internet's development. Shulgin describes the project on its homepage as: " poetic - exploring instability, unpredictability, flow of electrons, feeling the universe, exstasy [sic] of true joint creativity, hopping through space, countries, cultures, languages, genders, colours, shapes and sizes...". At least as significant as the collaborative art projects such as Shulgin's <italic>Refresh</italic> are the dedicated media arts mailing lists and bulletin boards such as Syndicate, Rhizome, 7-11 and The Thing, which have knitted communities together, driven the development of new media art discourse and often constituted a site of communications art in themselves. In an important respect, these electronic communities provided net art with its earliest support system (a site of meeting, representation and debate) in the absence of interest from the established art community. One of the earliest Internet-based, dedicated forums was Wolfgang Staehle's electronic Bulletin Board called The Thing, set up in 1991 and run on a computer in his basement in New York City. In Staehle's words, it was "a forum making a direct exchange of ideas and positions between a closed community possible. Promotional material was not approved. The main focus was to exchange opinions and ideas." =20 In the early days of community-forging mailing lists and newsgroups the understanding was that participants contribute their ideas 'for free'. In subsequent years, however, the notion that this exchange of ideas might have occurred in the absence of self-interest or beyond the commercial sphere has been persuasively rejected in Ghosh and Barbrook's discussions of the gift economy. The theory of the gift economy or cooking pot market as it's also known, posits a system of asymmetrical exchanges in which participants freely contribute gifts to a forum (e.g. a piece of perl script, an argument, a list of recommendations) and, due to the number of participants, receive disproportionately greater amount in return. Despite their attempts to cast the Internet as the site of a radical alternative to the commodity-exchange relations which structure capitalism, Ghosh and Barbrook both agree that the gift economy is buoyed up by the conversion of reputations earned online into job contracts or, in our case, exhibition opportunities etc. offline. Acknowledging that it is beyond the scope of this article to sufficiently analyse the relationship of the so-called gift economy to the capitalist economy per se, it is possible to identify a shift in the nature of the information exchanged on these mailing lists and its treatment thereafter that has occurred in the last years. A shift which certainly suggests that the gift economy model could well have been a brief moment of pioneering camaraderie that receded as soon as the culture itself became stable enough to tolerate competitiveness. In the days before online culture had developed its present cach=E9, the rule of thumb was "you own your own words" and this seemed to produce little controversy. However, increasingly art mailing lists such as Rhizome (run by Rhizome Communications Inc., a not-for-profit private company) in step with non-art mailing lists such as the Net criticism list Nettime (with their largely university educated participants ) have come to view such specialist debates as a valuable commodity. In the absence of any other such in-depth documentation of Internet culture, the texts generated by these mailing lists act as crucial historical sources. Rhizome's founder Mike Tribe commented: "I agree that Nettime and Rhizome are, in effect, writing histories of this moment, and that our editorial practices thus have long-range consequences." Nettime has already brought out it's first publication <italic>Read Me: ASCII Culture and the Revenge of Knowledge</italic>, The Thing has been attempting to auction off its old interface and content through the online auction house E-bay, and subscribers to Rhizome are required to comply with terms and conditions which grant Rhizome Communications Inc. "the non-exclusive, worldwide, perpetual, royalty-free right to reproduce, modify, edit, publish....[etc.etc.]" The point at which co-operative efforts are converted into commodities, regardless of whether they are used to create profit or to provide capital funding for not-for-profit institutions, marks an important shift in the entire ICT arts context. One of the effects is to highlight the material disparities which exist between the online cultural participants. In this putatively international community, a U.S company's decision to convert a 'gift' given, say, by a Bulgarian artist into a commodity for sale is an unavoidably divisive action no matter how strong the arguments concerning the intended redistribution of proceeds may be. Furthermore, the recent perception of the information exchanged on specialist mailing lists as cultural commodities inflects the nature of the information itself. In the case of art mailing lists, the community of participants is increasingly perceived as an audience and conduit for information relay rather than partners in dialogue. As the participants, often through the support structure of these online communities, ascend to positions of power within the international art system, the discursive quality of the lists tends to diminish as self-promotional material such as exhibition announcements increases. Far from the gift economy guaranteeing, across the board, an increased return on investment, some people really do get more out of the system than others. In seeking an alternative to existing institutionalised structures of display, discourse and exchange, net artists have created a new object for those self-same institutions to territorialise as well as creating new institutional structures within the Internet itself. This development, which hinges on a 'flickering' relationship between online and offline activities and protagonists, can be said to mimic the signifier's relationship to the signified described by Hayles in her analysis of the informational paradigmatic shift. The online sphere of operations floats like a signifier above a set of relations (institutions, national economies, physical communities, events etc.) which act as their dislocated referent. The net art community seems to be marked by two divergent tendencies; on the one hand the will to map online onto offline art worlds and, on the other, to see the dislocation as crucial to the conceptual and institutional development of net art. An example of the pitfalls in the rapprochement approach was net art's unsuccessful inclusion in the prominent DocumentaX exhibition in Kassel, 1997. Hidden away between the caf=E9, lecture hall and bookshop in the basement of the Documenta Halle, the exhibits were barely distinguishable from the other recreational alternatives to viewing 'actual art'. In an interview given during the show, the art duo Jodi described how net art's existence in computer space afforded it low status in the physical space of the gallery. Net artworks were stored on local hard-drives thus robbing them of their proper Internet-specific status, and set in a space insultingly reminiscent of an office: "All the different works disappear in the set-up by one guy who deals with the real space. The real space is of course much more powerful than all these networks. When you are viewing the work you are in the real space. If you only do your work on the net, you become a fragment of the local situation and you can easily become manipulated in any direction." Jodi also spoke disparagingly of their artists' fee: "In total we got DM1200. It is a clear example of exploitation. Which artist would move his ass for this amount of money?" Here is a case of net artists losing out by trying to collapse the informational signifier (net art per se) into its non-equivalent real world referent (museum art). ///Josephine Berry\\\ \\\initialising history...loading favourites/// -^- www.yourserver.co.uk/crashmedia -^- ->- www.metamute.com -<<- # distributed via <nettime>: no commercial use without permission # <nettime> is a moderated mailing list for net criticism, # collaborative text filtering and cultural politics of the nets # more info: majordomo@bbs.thing.net and "info nettime-l" in the msg body # archive: http://www.nettime.org contact: nettime@bbs.thing.net