Natural History in its Aesthetic Fashion

“..stepping lightly down to bathe in the rainbow-coloured spray, would have seen the identical sights that we now saw,– the great prawns gliding like transparent launches, anthea waving in the twilight its thick white waxen tentacles, and the fronds of the duke faintly streaming on the water like huge red banners in some reverted atmosphere...” wrote Philip Gosse to his son Edmund in 1907.

Gosse is the author of Omphalos: An Attempt to Untie the Geological Knot (published two years before Darwin’s Origin of the Species), a marine biologist and illustrator of sea creatures, anemones and corals. I was reminded of him when I stepped out of my trap with Blued Food, on a visit to VeGeTal PLaNeT, created by French artist Vroum Short. Beneath a churning sea, we moved through galleries containing natural and cybernetic forms that flared, spiked, oscillated and swirled. Short’s output is almost overwhelming. She layers animations to create unique compositions that impart a kaleidoscope of moods. Blued’s distinctive eye led us through the wild maze of panels and free standing kinetic work and settled in front of a piece called Chaos.

Abductor, 2006. Fred Tomaselli. Courtesy of the James Cohan Gallery

It reminded me of the artist Fred Tomaselli, who explores the relationship between art making and drug taking. His chosen materials include pharmaceuticals - prozac, aspirin, antacid, saccharin, ephedrine - plants and magazine clippings that he meticulously arranges onto glazed panels. The combined effect makes references to everything from a primitive 18th century folk quilt to a tripped out 3-dimensional universe that morphs in front of your eyes, requesting an audience with your spiritual side. Tomaselli writes, “I want people to get lost in the work. I want to seduce people into it and I want people to escape inside the world of the work.” Short accomplishes this too, especially with Chaos, inviting viewers to literally sit on pose balls, alongside its pulsing panels. I was seduced by its celestial and rhythmic patterns, and disappeared into my own galaxy. Short’s Neptunian botanical installations offer an aesthetic appreciation of nature in its most fantastical forms.

More photos here.

The Romance of Natural History by Philip Gosse

The Roof is Gone (Burning Life, pt. 2)

Above photo by Warrick Renfold

The moment you arrive at Miso Susanowa and Misprint Thursday’s building, The Roof is Gone, your eyes and ears are put on alert. The main structure, constructed of wooden planks and encased in scaffolding (“I could actually build most of this in Nevada” says Miso), stands cross-like, assuming the air of a place of worship in the middle of a disaster zone. It generates a weather system of its own and is surrounded by swirling details; photographs spiral on the wind above, videos, embedded into prims, blink like lightning, and the static beginning of the soundtrack passes back and forth between your ears like sheets of heavy rain. And then you reach the eye of the storm, calm among the chaos. The song begins to soothe, there’s a living room to rest in, and, if you look carefully, you can even disappear quietly into the building.

The piece is part political, part personal. It conjures up memories of Hurricane Katrina and other natural catastrophes. It also invokes psychological drama through childhood imagery – the house is breaking apart, little bicycles are tangled in spikes, photos of kids are bent and curled. Miso left her “digital DNA” for us to examine, in the form of a poster in hanging on a wall inside. Over 50 hours worth of work went into the build and it shows. There are so many layers to explore (teleport yourself up several meters to experience the accompanying video to full effect) expect to spend at least half an hour to begin to scratch the surface. Miso explained that one of her main goals is to make art in SL that can be translated to the outside world. I look at this piece and see a maquette, a model that might be realized again in the actual world. The artists kindly offer a lovely freebie miniature of the piece, a great souvenir of BL 2009.

Hey, can’t BL be extended for a week? There’s too much to see and do...!

This just in from White Lebed, art director Burning Life: "The events and the activities will be closed in a few days, but the art and the builds will stay for another week and the gates will be opened till Nov 1st."

Burning Life, part 1.

What terrific travels at Burning Life last night...do see the Burning Life flickr pool for useful links and peeks at activities on the playa. It’s hard to know where to begin, so I started at Burning Life Zero Mile, hopped in a temp rez flaming vehicle and spun around randomly. It’s great to see the sims full of a variety of action - people looking and exploring, performers, like the Lamplighters, dancing off into the dusk, artists fiddling with their work, sculptures powerfully beating out heat, all against mad soundtracks from gentle breeze to speed metal. I was happy to run across wicked-blogger-on-a-break Wyatt Wellman, fitting right against the fiery backdrop wearing his charcoal persona. Blued Food was an ace companion – he’s a speedy scout. I followed him around as he shouted “Click EVERYTHING”. It’s true, the builds are full of surprises. I recommend doing one build per visit to really appreciate the work that’s gone into these sites. We found four Yip’s Fusion and I lost myself there for a good while. Yip has a way of providing comfort and romance wherever she lays her hand, and Fusion is no exception. Simple stenciled eyes blink and tear before you as you’re enveloped in a wash of pink and deep brown scrims, bending like waves. A track by I Monster (Heaven) makes you want to bow with them. The muted, dimly lit space is more mysterious than Yip’s typical palette, and suits the harmonic track. As always, she’s offering some charming freebies – soft bear noses and iridescent butterflies which follow along as you trek.

Other builds of note: Gettr II from Idialab for the Museo del Metaverso at Opal and The Roof is Gone by Miso Susanowa and Misprint Thursday at Black Rock which I’ll write about next.

Burning Life is coming...

City (Los Angeles)

I lived in London a few years back – got used to the soot and the tea breaks and the football (ah footie)! After a year, work demanded I take a short trip to the heart of America – Los Angeles - which I’d never been to. What a contrast! In LA, the sun always shone, the smiles were gleaming white, the streets were so smooth and wide. The moment I landed in LA, strangers, in line at Starbucks, at the gas station, in the middle of a crowded gig, just about everywhere, would embrace, shout “Hiya!” Call me!” and hand over a business card (often with no business described). But beneath their sunny smiles was a slight desperation. Making a living in LA was tough. Most visitors don’t see the back side of the Hollywood sign, the side left unairbrushed.

In City (Los Angeles), presented by the Brooklyn is Watching project, Miso Susanowa wants us to appreciate the real LA, its gritty, overwhelming side, the LA beyond the starry sidewalks. Susanowa recorded the sounds of the night outside her apartment window in LA at Hollywood and La Brea Avenues. Photographs of Hollywood Blvd. make up a three sided box in which Susanowa invites the viewer to sit among a moving grid of disorienting “snapshots” showing nameless, featureless faces. The chaotic sounds of the LA night is amplified all around. Viewing the installation in mouselook allows the viewer to become tangled in the grid.

As much as Susanowa wants to illustrate the dark side of her city, there is something rather beautiful about the installation whilst you’re immersed in it. The screen shots I took look like some kind of technofied marblized paper.

While the people I met in LA may have been struggling in their tiny run-down houses, they had fresh fruit to eat every day, dropping off the trees in their back gardens. Susanowa has captured LA as a city of contradictions.

Visit City here.

Pacific Theme by Broken Social Scene.

The Cult of Personality

Artist Kasabian Beck asks us to consider celebrity within Second Life in his latest exhibition at Hotel Dare, “Slebrity™”. Presented against the spare white walls of the gallery are several panels depicting the names (in an also spare, sans serif font) of well-known personalities – creators of all types - within SL, seen in the image above. Struck by the cult of personality in the metaverse, Beck muses on “the very idea of virtual notoriety, how it is sought, attained and why it is or is not important...” I wasn’t familiar with all the names presented in the gallery which is an important point. It’s possible I might not have known any of the names – what meaning would the exhibition have had for me then? The names chosen have been curated – by the artist – revealing his own particular world experience. This exhibition will mean something different to each viewer and ought to inspire discussions about what I call the “flux” of personality. What most of the names have in common is that they are brilliant self-promoters. In art, reputation can be considered more valuable than in many other fields where celebrity is cultivated. Look at the Young British Art movement of the mid ‘90s; young artists, with small bodies of work behind them, created retrospectives and museums dedicated to themselves, to protest the English art institutions that had belittled them. Is the tone of this exhibition condescending? Do these names have any value at all as ideas or things to disagree with?

Virtual fame is the same as any other kind of fame, earned and unearned. As psychologist James Houran writes, “we need celebrities as much as we need food, water and shelter. We need them to feel connected.” These names on the wall are humans, not martians, not simply avatars. We condescend to these human fundamentals, our desire for celebrity, at our peril because we are human – not always wonderful but very predictable and found in all environments. A thought-provoking exhibition...go to Slebrity and have a think.

Exhibition Opens!

The glint of eye, the crook of an elbow, the curl of the lips; what is it about these little parts all strung together that reveal a personality? Historically, portraits represented the authority, lineage or religiosity of a person. Within SL, a portrait is an articulation of identity in a realm where identity is more fluid than many of us are used to.

PersoNation presents the genre of portrait making with the works of ten sl artists. Some of the creators are artists in rl, some do not consider themselves artists at all. Some manipulate their images using a variety of tools, or deliberately pose their subjects, while other images were captured quickly. Each portrait expresses the unique intersection of artist and subject. PersoNation asks you, the viewer, to connect with each and discover your own story.

Come hang out on Friday night for dancing, contemplation, conversation and relaxation! The Woodget Gallery: teleport from here.

Bittersweet memories

The Caerleon Art Collective is hosting a virtual exhibition, Aequitas, to compliment a rl exhibition at OSA Artspace, in Washington Heights, New York. Artists were asked to mine their childhood memories for inspiration. Nebulosus Severine and two other artists created a vignette, or stage set, on which guests can place themselves. Severine built an evocative and typical scene for many children shipped off to summer camp each year, called Summer, 1985; a platform tent in the woods; sleeping bag resting on thin mattress, bag of clothes stuffed damply beneath the rusty springs of the bed, can of repellent rolling across the floor. Visitors are asked to lie on the bed and listen to the radio. Stations quickly change as though someone were spinning the dial looking for a good tune. Snatches of 80s anthems blare - Shout by Tears for Fears, Its Much Too Late for Goodbye by Julian Lennon, Freedom by George Michael (*cringe*). Severine remarks that her camp experiences left her feeling fairly traumatized, being separated for the first time from her family. Each installation acts as a therapeutic setting where those first time moments, of feeling lost, unloved, lonely or scared, can be reenacted. I found myself slipping into the 80s when sitting next to Severine’s bag of camp clothes. I had terrible homesickness at camp. I participated in all of those typical activities; wrapped the boy’s dorms in toilet paper, sang a Squeeze song at the talent show, learned how to sail, did my chores...When my mom picked me up, however, I had bandages wrapped around both knees and hands from a big tumble down a hill, poison ivy all over my limbs, a fever, and conjunctivitis in both eyes. She took one look at me and started laughing. Nevertheless, I was sent back again and again for another tortuous round. Childhood memories are bittersweet...we crave the simplicity of being young, but remember most the times when things were – complicated. Be sure to spend some time also with the installations by Dekka Raymaker - Fear & Hatred in Rookley Close, Untitled by Banrion Constantine and Things Change at Nighttime by Penumbra Carter.

Exhibition up until July 3rd.

Body Parts by Alpha Auer

In response to the last post - can cyberspace offer a place for the soul – I visited Alpha Auer’s “Body Parts”, an installation that confronts the idea of loneliness in cyberspace and the avatar as a sole soul. She writes, “once all the beautiful words have been uttered and all the chips are down, in the end love is a physical thing - and like Kafka in relationship to Milena, we are not. The sum total of our physicality is a bunch of cleverly strung together pose animations purchased from Vista. At best.... No corporeality = no love. There is no manifestation of love in the metaverse. Lots of other things - yes. Absolutely. But love - no…”

Visitors to “Body Parts” are invited to don cold monochromatic skins to blend in with the silvery sculpted figures clutching at and towards one another. The figures travel across the landscape like a Rubens composition (I thought of Rape of the Daughters of Leucippus), across and up. Jump on one of the pose balls and complete a circuit with a fellow avatar – aka human being – and notice how the figures struggle between refusal and gratification, between wanting the connection and revolting against it. I don’t know if I agree with Alpha’s claim that love cannot exist in the metaverse without physical connection...there are enough descriptions by others about the rl sensations felt when first dancing a waltz with a partner, or the shiver of the typist when crossing a snowy sim, not to mention the hundreds of seemingly fruitful partnerships. But because so much of our experience in-world relies on imagination which we use to fill in the blanks, (and there are blanks) are we ultimately only loving ourselves? Commune we will, our fellow avatars are our hand-held mirrors, but ultimately, we must self-gratify. Love can be blind and the brain compensates in the actual world as well as the virtual one. Writes Edward Castronova, “for the first time, humanity has not one but many worlds in which to live.” One could argue that there are more choices for love as well. /me jumps back on Alpha’s pose ball and continues to wrestle the thought....

Mending Walls

"Something there is that doesn't love a wall,

That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,

And spills the upper boulders in the sun; And makes gaps even two can pass abreast."

- Robert Frost

Here's a build by AM Radio, the Quiet at Welsh Lakes, well suited for a New England wanderer.
Radio acknowledges the loss of landscapes in America, first in his most famous build The Far Away, and now here. I was reminded of James Howard Kunstler's description of the ubiquitous and "tragic crapscape" that is plowing over the stone walls and wheat fields of America. Driving through New England, in the winter especially, when leaves have been whipped from their branches, you can see miles of these stone walls, some of the earliest surviving evidence of man trying to manipulate and control his environment. There's an excellent story about this phenomena in The Golden Spruce - a book describing a logger's extreme ascent (or descent, depending on who you're talking to) into environmentalism, when he cuts down an ancient and revered Sitka spruce tree in British Columbia. As always, the spareness of Radio's builds, and the clues he leaves about, encourage a visitor to pause and...consider.