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How a trippy 1980s video effect might help to explain consciousness

How a trippy 1980s video effect might help to explain consciousness

Still from a video feedback sequence.
© Robert Pepperell 2018, Author provided

Robert Pepperell, Cardiff Metropolitan University

Explaining consciousness is one of the hardest problems in science and philosophy. Recent neuroscientific discoveries suggest that a solution could be within reach – but grasping it will mean rethinking some familiar ideas. Consciousness, I argue in a new paper, may be caused by the way the brain generates loops of energetic feedback, similar to the video feedback that “blossoms” when a video camera is pointed at its own output.

I first saw video feedback in the late 1980s and was instantly entranced. Someone plugged the signal from a clunky video camera into a TV and pointed the lens at the screen, creating a grainy spiralling tunnel. Then the camera was tilted slightly and the tunnel blossomed into a pulsating organic kaleidoscope.

Video feedback is a classic example of complex dynamical behaviour. It arises from the way energy circulating in the system interacts chaotically with the electronic components of the hardware.

As an artist and VJ in the 1990s, I would often see this hypnotic effect in galleries and clubs. But it was a memorable if unnerving experience during an LSD-induced trip that got me thinking. I hallucinated almost identical imagery, only intensely saturated with colour. It struck me then there might be a connection between these recurring patterns and the operation of the mind.

Brains, information and energy

Fast forward 25 years and I’m a university professor still trying to understand how the mind works. Our knowledge of the relationship between the mind and brain has advanced hugely since the 1990s when a new wave of scientific research into consciousness took off. But a widely accepted scientific theory of consciousness remains elusive.

The two leading contenders – Stanislas Dehaene’s Global Neuronal Workspace Model and Giulio Tononi’s Integrated Information Theory – both claim that consciousness results from information processing in the brain, from neural computation of ones and zeros, or bits.

I doubt this claim for several reasons. First, there is little agreement among scientists about exactly what information is. Second, when scientists refer to information they are often actually talking about the way energetic activity is organised in physical systems. Third, brain imaging techniques such as fMRI, PET and EEG don’t detect information in the brain, but changes in energy distribution and consumption.

Brains, I argue, are not squishy digital computers – there is no information in a neuron. Brains are delicate organic instruments that turn energy from the world and the body into useful work that enables us to survive. Brains process energy, not information.

Recognising that brains are primarily energy processors is the first step to understanding how they support consciousness. The next is rethinking energy itself.

Is the human brain a squishy digital computer or a delicate organic instrument for processing energy?
Installation shot of ‘I am a brain’, 2008. Cast of human brain in resin and metal. Robert Pepperell

What is energy?

We are all familiar with energy but few of us worry about what it is. Even physicists tend not to. They treat it as an abstract value in equations describing physical processes, and that suffices. But when Aristotle coined the term energeia he was trying to grasp the actuality of the lived world, why things in nature work in the way they do (the word “energy” is rooted in the Greek for “work”). This actualised concept of energy is different from, though related to, the abstract concept of energy used in contemporary physics.

When we study what energy actually is, it turns out to be surprisingly simple: it’s a kind of difference. Kinetic energy is a difference due to change or motion, and potential energy is a difference due to position or tension. Much of the activity and variety in nature occurs because of these energetic differences and the related actions of forces and work. I call these actualised differences because they do actual work and cause real effects in the world, as distinct from abstract differences (like that between 1 and 0) which feature in mathematics and information theory. This conception of energy as actualised difference, I think, may be key to explaining consciousness.

The human brain consumes some 20% of the body’s total energy budget, despite accounting for only 2% of its mass. The brain is expensive to run. Most of the cost is incurred by neurons firing bursts of energetic difference in unthinkably complex patterns of synchrony and diversity across convoluted neural pathways.

What is special about the conscious brain, I propose, is that some of those pathways and energy flows are turned upon themselves, much like the signal from the camera in the case of video feedback. This causes a self-referential cascade of actualised differences to blossom with astronomical complexity, and it is this that we experience as consciousness. Video feedback, then, may be the nearest we have to visualising what conscious processing in the brain is like.

Does consciousness depend on the brain looking at itself?
Robert Pepperell, 2018

The neuroscientific evidence

The suggestion that consciousness depends on complex neural energy feedback is supported by neuroscientific evidence.

Researchers recently discovered a way to accurately index the amount of consciousness someone has. They fired magnetic pulses through healthy, anaesthetised, and severely injured peoples’ brains. Then they measured the complexity of an EEG signal that monitored how the brains reacted. The complexity of the EEG signal predicted the level of consciousness in the person. And the more complex the signal the more conscious the person was.

The researchers attributed the level of consciousness to the amount of information processing going on in each brain. But what was actually being measured in this study was the organisation of the neural energy flow (EEG measures differences of electrical energy). Therefore, the complexity of the energy flow in the brain tells us about the level of consciousness a person has.

Also relevant is evidence from studies of anaesthesia. No-one knows exactly how anaesthetic agents annihilate consciousness. But recent theories suggest that compounds including propofol interfere with the brain’s ability to sustain complex feedback loops in certain brain areas. Without these feedback loops, the functional integration between different brain regions breaks down, and with it the coherence of conscious awareness.

What this, and other neuroscientific work I cite in the paper, suggests is that consciousness depends on a complex organisation of energy flow in the brain, and in particular on what the biologist Gerald Edelman called “reentrant” signals. These are recursive feedback loops of neural activity that bind distant brain regions into a coherent functioning whole.

Video feedback may be the nearest we have to visualising what conscious processing in the brain is like.
Still from video feedback sequence. Robert Pepperell, 2018

Explaining consciousness in scientific terms, or in any terms, is a notoriously hard problem. Some have worried it’s so hard we shouldn’t even try. But while not denying the difficulty, the task is made a bit easier, I suggest, if we begin by recognising what brains actually do.

The primary function of the brain is to manage the complex flows of energy that we rely on to thrive and survive. Instead of looking inside the brain for some undiscovered property, or “magic sauce”, to explain our mental life, we may need to look afresh at what we already know is there.The Conversation

Robert Pepperell, Professor, Cardiff Metropolitan University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

The post How a trippy 1980s video effect might help to explain consciousness appeared first on Interalia Magazine.

The PXW-FX9 in the real world.

There are already a few setup and staged video samples from the new Sony PXW-FX9 circulating on the web. These are great. But how will it perform and what will the pictures look like for an unscripted, unprepared shoot? How well will the autofocus work out in the street, by day and by night? How does the S-Cinetone gamma and colour in custom mode compare with S-Log3 and the s709 Venice LUT compare?

To answer these questions I took a pre-production FX9 into the nearby town of Windsor with a couple of cheap Sony E-Mount lenses. The lenses were the Sony 50mm f1.8 which costs around $350 USD and the 28-70mm f3.5-f5.6 zoom that costs about $400 USD and is often bundled as a kit lens with some of the A7 series cameras.

To find out how good the auto focus really is I decided to shoot entirely using auto focus with the AF set to face priority. The only shot in the video where AF was not used is the 120fps slow-mo shot of the swans at 0:53 as AF does not work at 120fps.

Within the video there are examples of both S-Cinetone and S-Log3 plus the s709 LUT. So you know which is which I have indicated this is the video. I needed to do this as the two cut together really well. There is no grading as such. The S-Cinetone content is exactly as it came from the camera. The CineEI S-Log3 material was shot at the indicated base ISO and EI, there was no exposure offset. In post production all I did was add the s709 LUT, that’s it, no other corrections.

The video was shot using the Full Frame 6K scan, recording to UHD XAVC-I.

For exposure I used the cameras built in waveform display. When in CineEI I also used the Viewfinder Gamma Display assist function. Viewfinder Gamma assist gives the viewfinder the same look as the 709(800) LUT. What’s great about this is that it works in all modes and at all frame rates. So even when I switched to 2K Full Frame scan and 120fps the look of the image in the viewfinder remained the same and this allowed me to get a great exposure match for the slow motion footage to the normal speed footage. 

AUTOFOCUS.

There are some great examples of the way the autofocus works throughout the video. In particular the shot at 0:18 where the face priority mode follows the first two girls that are walking towards the camera, then as they exit the frame switches to the two ladies following behind (that don’t like being filmed) without any hunting. I could not have done that any better myself. Another great example is at 1:11 where the focus tracks the couple walking towards the camera and once they exit the shot the focus smoothly transitions to the background. One of the nice things about the AF system is you can adjust the speed at which the camera re-focusses and in this case I had slowed it down a bit to give it a more “human” feel.

Even in low light the AF works superbly well. At 1:33 I started on the glass of the ornate arch above the railway station and panned down as two people are walking towards me. The camera took this completely in it’s stride doing a lovely job of shifting the focus from the arch to the two men. Again, I really don’t think I could have done this any better myself.

NOISE.

Also, I am still really impressed by how little noise there is from this camera. Even in the high ISO mode the camera remains clean and the images look great. The low noise levels help the camera to resolve colour and details right down into the deepest shadows. Observe how at 2:06 you can clearly see the different hues of the red roses against the red leather of the car door, even though this is a very dark shot.

The reduction in noise and increase in real sensitivity also helps the super slow motion. Compared to an FS7 I think the 120fps footage from the FX9 looks much better. It seems to be less coarse and less grainy. There is still some aliasing which is unavoidable if you scan the sensor at a lower resolution, but it all looks much better controlled than similar material from an FS7.

DYNAMIC RANGE.

And when there is more light the camera handles this very well too.  At 1:07 you can see how well S-Cinetone deals with a very high contrast scene. There are lots of details in the shadows and even though the highlights on the boats are clipped, the way the camera reaches the end of it’s range is very nice and it doesn’t look nasty, it just looks very bright, which it was.

For me the big take-away from this simple shoot was just how easy it is to get good looking images. There was no grading, no messing around trying to get nice skintones. The focus is precise and it doesn’t hunt.  The low noise and high sensitivity means you can get good looking shots in most situations. I’m really looking forward to getting my own FX9 as it’s going to make life just that little bit easier for many of my more adventurous shoots.

For more information on the PXW-FX9 click here. 

Or take a look at the Sony website.


The PXW-FX9 in the real world. was first posted on October 17, 2019 at 4:58 pm.
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Voices

Aura Satz: The Trembling Line. Film and multi-channel sound installation, 2015

Richard Bright: Can we begin by you saying something about your background?

Aura Satz: I studied cultural studies and art history in Bologna (Italy) before coming to London to do a PhD by theory/practice at the Slade School of Fine Art. Initially I worked with sculpture and performance but over the last 20 years or so I have become more invested in film and sound. My works operate in constellations, I have a central theme which might manifest in multiple formats, as films, performances, sound works, and so on.

RB: Have there been any particular influences to your art practice?

AS: I was very much influenced by Lis Rhodes who taught me at the Slade, and whom I have since collaborated with. Intergenerational conversations are extremely important to me. I have been teaching for around 20 years now, and I get a lot of inspiration from my students. Teaching also keeps me attuned to practices outside of my own. In my undergraduate studies I was particularly fascinated by iconoclasm and theories of the image based on contact relics. I suppose this has carried through in my later works which attempt to look closely at technologies, prying the apparatus apart, as well as my interest in technologies of sound writing, such as the phonograph – where the groove is a trace and relic of the voice, so to speak. I have always been inspired by female voices, and there are a number of women composers who are key sources of inspiration. I often think of some of the more dialogic works I have made with people such as Lis Rhodes, Laurie Spiegel, Pauline Oliveros, as an opportunity to go deeper into the conversation, not just through the encounter, the film or the recording of a verbal exchange, but even later in the editing process, where I spend a lot of time listening and composing to the cadence of speech or a pause for breath.

Aura Satz: Her Marks a Measure

RB: What is the underlying focus of your work?

AS: I keep returning to the notion of a distributed, expanded and shared notion of voice. Works are made in conversation and use dialogue as both method and subject matter. In my works which draw on historical research I see myself in dialogic exchange with past voices, speaking backwards and forwards, being spoken through. When I have focussed on technologies of sound writing, recording and playback, it is precisely because I am interested in ways in which voices carry through, have been under-heard, and can be ‘listened into speech’. Many previous works focussed on minor histories, using archival research as a starting point, but in recent years I have shifted from the idea of notation of the past towards a logic that is more aligned with a visual or verbal score, an open invitation to think towards possible future manifestations. A score implies a non-hierarchical generosity, suggesting multiple future iterations and no singular privileged way of performing or enacting. Some scores simply suggest a shift in focus, such as Oliveros’ suggestion to listen with the soles of your feet. Many of my works could be read as an invitation to recalibrate attention, ways in which we give it, what is deemed worthy of it, how we might enact a different modality of attention, what we conceive of as foreground and what is background.

Aura Satz: Ventriloqua

RB: You began working with sound, with the piece Ventriloqua, in 2003 when you were pregnant. A number of your later works are to do with acoustic devices and vibration. Can you give some examples of these works?

AS: In Ventriloqua my pregnant belly became an instrument, a medium or antenna of sorts for a thereminist to play the electromagnetic waves. I wore a red outfit that covered all of my body, including my face, and the only visible part was the belly, which looked like an oracular eye or a breast of sorts. Through the trope of ventri-loquism (belly-speaking) I was able to explore the possibility of becoming a conduit for other voices. For me that performance was a powerful manifestation of speaking and being spoken through. In other works such as Automamusic (2008), Sound Seam (2010) Onomatopoeic Alphabet (2010), Vocal Flame (2011) and In and Out of Synch (2012) I focussed on devices such as orchestrions, mechanical music, phonographs, Chladni Plate, Ruben’s tube and optical sound on film as technologies of sound visualisation, some of which manifest sound patterns without quite constituting a notation system or code, and others which encrypt sound in order for it to be read back by a machine rather than a human. All of these enabled me to explore voices that align, interfere, interweave, synchronise, overlap, overwrite, hover between signal and noise, between decipherable meaning and the unfamiliar and as yet unencoded.

Aura Satz: Vocal Flame, 2012

 

Aura Satz: Sound Seam, 2010 (installation view)

In Sound Seam for example we worked with the surface noises of wax cylinders and vinyl glitch, as well as generating many layers of sounds by recording voices over each other.  At the same time there is something about seeing as informed by hearing, and vice versa, a listening that is in tension with the visible, that I find incredibly generative. This became central to In and Out of Synch, the 16mm film co-scripted and co-voiced with Lis Rhodes, where the optical sound on film patterns conveying our voices are ruptured by stroboscopic effects, due to a deliberate subtle misalignment of the monitoring eyepiece. You end up with a kind of Rorschach effect, certain sounds are punctuated or counteracted by the visual, and their respective rhythms generate a friction that is useful in unsettling standardized readings, making us hear or see differently.

Aura Satz: In and Out of Synch

RB: When did you begin to prioritise film-making and why?

AS: Initially I used film to document performances. When I made Automamusic in 2008 I realised that the only way to get inside these multiple mechanical music devices (which were housed in a museum in a small town in Switzerland), the best method of access to open them up and reconfigure them, was through the camera and the juxtaposition of sound patterns with visual rhythms. In other projects I found that there’s a kind of close-up looking and listening that can only be achieved through film. In my films I am keen to foreground sound, often it becomes the driving force, literally the engine driving the visuals or setting the rhythmic pace of the film. This is true of all of the sound visualisation films mentioned above, as well as a more recent project Preemptive Listening (2018), where the voice triggers an emergency rotating light. A film might feature moments of darkness or silence to allow for the senses to cross-pollinate, the eyes to take on the role of the ears or the other way around. I like the idea of an anagrammatic remapping of the senses, a disruption of hierarchies, a destabilizing of relations, of what is perceived, how, where, by who.

Aura Satz: Preemptive Listening (part 1 The Fork in the Road), 2018, installation view (photo Adam Reich)

RB: As well as exploring different techniques for visualizing sound, a number of your works focus on gender and women’s important contributions to technology. I’m thinking particularly of Oramics: Atlantis Anew (2011), Doorway for Natalie Kalmus (2013) and She Recalibrates (2018).  Can you say something about these works?

AS: Part of my commitment to the notion of a distributed voice is an unsettling of which voices are allowed, amplified within the range of the audible, who gets heard, who is written into the canon of history, and how can we destabilise these readings to allow for new voices to emerge. The film about Daphne Oram was central to my thinking on sound writing as a form of instantiating a new language or notation system, a new soundscape and in turn a new kind of listening.

 

Aura Satz: She Recalibrates (Pauline Oliveros), 2018 (photo Thierry Bal)

She Recalibrates follows on from this by focussing on women composers working with electronic music such as Laurie Spiegel, Pauline Oliveros, Eliane Radigue, Maryanne Amacher and others, who are portrayed with their hands on a dial, engaged in an experimental type of listening, modulating electricity, recalibrating what is considered noise or signal, what is worthy of being heard, and what can be understood as music. Their hands and ears are literally partaking in the circuit, tuning and recalibrating the signal. I made series of pencil drawings of hands on dials, framed inside a Fresnel lens which generates a diffractive pattern from the centre. The drawings only appear at a certain angle, due to the silver effect of graphite pencil on black paper, but also because the lens incorporates the interference of light reflections. It’s like looking at a lenticular print, or, more accurately, a CD or vinyl record with a diffractive centre, the image is continually changing according to the position of the viewer and the angle of light.  This is emblematic of what I try to do in all my works, allowing for an entangled space between voices, between signal and noise, for both to appear as method and subject matter.

Aura Satz: Tuning Interference on a Dark Matter Radio, 2019

RB: You are taking part in the Science Gallery, London exhibition ‘Dark Matter: 95% of the Universe is missing’, with a sound work Tuning Interference: Dark Matter Radio. Can you say something about your involvement in this?

AS: The curator Sandra Ross commissioned me to make a sound work responding to the theme of dark matter, under the guidance of the astrophysicist Prof. Malcolm Fairbairn, who invited Prof. David (Doddy) J.E. Marsh into the collaboration. I was really inspired by the way some of the experiments have been described as listening out for a signal that has not yet appeared. In particular I was drawn to the description of ADMX, one of many dark matter research initiatives (and a number of related experiments operating in Korea, Europe, and the USA), as “a radio that looks for a radio station, but we don’t know its frequency. We turn the knob slowly while listening. Ideally we will hear a tone when the frequency is right.[1] I wanted to work with this notion of experimental listening by making a sonic diagram of sorts, which would evoke a tuning experience. Together with Malcom and Doddy, as well as audio engineer/music AI specialist Dr. David Ronan who sonified the data, we made a 10 channel sound installation which renders a current hypothetical simulation of dark matter into sound. Essentially the sound patterns are a set of relations between the data, and we mapped it in such a way so as to generate intense psychoacoustic effects in the listeners, exploring sonic equivalents of interference and collision through beat frequencies and other diffractive qualities which shift according to the listener’s location. The listener becomes a radio dial of sorts, as the ears move through the soundscape, micro-tuning with each adjustment. It’s not dissimilar to the effect I described with the Fresnel lens framed drawings. There is no ideal vantage point or listening sweet spot, the listener is embedded within the sound, effectively generating the sound according to their orientation within the speaker ring.

Doddy showed me some visualisations of the simulation of dark matter in a hypothetical galaxy, and it looked like ripples of water or waves diffracting. This particular model of dark matter simulated contains waves[2], and we used speed and density to generate the shape of the harmonic structure. We chose the spacing of the speakers around the ring to be close to one wavelength, so that the coherence between speakers is audible, and yet varies in an interesting way around the ring. I wanted to create a soundscape that felt like a field of vibration and flux, with clusters of density, moments of tension and relief. Close frequency alignment and interference became a compositional principle, much like a kind of acoustic moiré. The arrangement of the speakers reflects the distribution of dark matter, so what you are hearing is not the sound of dark matter per se, but the hypothetical flux and motion of dark matter as rendered through sound. Each speaker is one point of data in the simulation, and if you listen close-up you will hear a singular slow-changing drone rather than all the beat frequencies that occur in the centre of the ring where the sounds interact with each other. Sometimes the wave shape of one point of data is extremely close to another, changing at a variable rate, and this alignment generates a sense of dense patterning, a pulse which gradually accelerates, intensifies, shifts focus and recedes. The sound is sculpted into a rippling flux which gathers and dissipates in such a way that is hard to hold onto or memorise. You can’t possibly internalise the rhythm of the piece, and each listening session will sound quite different from the previous one as your ears fabricate new acoustic illusions, adjust to the sounds, are de-sensitized or fatigued. I spent months tweaking the composition and by the end of a long session I wasn’t sure what I was hearing anymore, what was in between the speakers and what was between my ears.

RB: In terms of the viewer, what are you trying to communicate in this exhibition?

AS: I am interested in the ways in which scientific research activates or distorts a certain intuitive understanding of the world, and I try to find a way to make this come across on a very physical level, as visual or sonic experience. I wanted people to feel enmeshed within a dynamic rotational flow or current, something that can be sensed but which we don’t necessarily have the theoretical frameworks to account for. I find it fascinating that in current research on dark matter we are at a point of knowing unknowing, so to speak – we don’t know what exactly we are looking for and we haven’t yet identified what it is, all we know for certain is that its presence is somehow implied through the way it interacts or interferes with matter. Without dark matter many previously accepted theories are untenable, and as such it both disrupts and holds together different hypothetical theories.

I think the piece also conveys some of my previous concerns around modes of attention, a continuous retuning and recalibrating of what is heard and where one is positioned in relation to the signal or the noise (or what is understood as which). The idea of acoustic moiré – a morphing non-hierarchical, almost untethered grid – resonates with my interest in a multiplicity of voices which align and interfere with each other, activating the spaces in between. This is the reason I am drawn to work with sound – already at a very basic level it is doing the work as a vibratory in-between, as inherently relational, unsettling boundaries.

In addition to the speaker ring, I wanted a visual marker to provide a distinct sense of oscillation, that you are entering a vibratory sound field, so between each speaker there is a VU metre driven by the sound. The needle trembles to echo the volatile, dynamic and ever-changing frequency fields, though what exactly is being measured remains uncertain (the metres are blank and have no numbers).

Aura Satz, ‘Vera Rubin’s Irrefutable Evidence’, 2019

Nearby hangs a photo of Vera Rubin (1928-2016). Rubin was an American astronomer who discovered the galaxy rotation problem, providing evidence of the existence of dark matter. In the photo she is seen looking through a spectrograph mounted on the end of the telescope, recording an image of the spectrum (colours) of a small section of a galaxy. It’s quite an obscure image, in that she is wearing a hooded coat, so hardly any parts of her face or body are identifiable. Like the series She Recalibrates mentioned earlier, the image is framed inside a Fresnel lens, generating a diffractive pattern emanating from the centre, the point between her eye and the eyepiece of the telescope. The viewer has to somehow tune into the image for it to surface in amidst all the diffractive interferences and light play. It’s not central to the main piece, but I wanted to include Rubin as I think of the artwork as a space for naming, reconfiguring the canon, putting an underacknowledged female scientist into the conversation.

RB: In your view, what are the lines that connect art and science?

AS: I don’t think I could ever provide a definitive answer. The part that interests me from my recent experiences is the way in which both science and art ask questions and destabilise our current understanding of the world. Both are a response to curiosity and uncertainty, and can give us some orientation towards the future. Recalibration is key, an openness to change and a resistance to standardization.

Aura Satz: ‘Listen, Recalibrate’, solo show installation view, Fridman Gallery (photo Adam Reich)

RB: What other projects are you currently working on?

AS: For some years now I have been working on a project entitled Preemptive Listening, which looks at emergency signals and siren sounds. I read the siren as a specific kind of sound, one that requires attention, and demands an action or response. Citizens respond to its call, demonstrating obedience to its authority – it is a sound that commands submission, deflection, dispersion. It attracts in order to dispel, unsettles and resettles. It demands localized attention, and is the sonic architect of social order. It is a sonic marker that structures urban spaces in an emergency, a marker between future danger and dangers past, projecting a trajectory and expelling obstacles along the way. As the primary vocalization of the state, it articulates our relationship to power and civil order. All of which makes it fascinating, complex and in dire need of a re-wiring. My invitation is to pry it apart and recompose the siren, to think of it as a sound signal that requires recalibration. I am attempting to reimagine the siren sound: how can we open and destabilize this overly codified, prescriptive and stable semantic sound by taking a compositional approach, remapping new readings onto new sounds, how can we unlearn the existing code, find ways to listen differently, resist the hypervigilant, predetermined, automated call to obedience and set the intention to be curious, open, receptive, imaginative. If one remaps the sound, explores the possibility of different emotional registers, one can in turn generate distinct affective responses, more varied strategies for crisis management, and attend to a spectrum of different voices in need of our attention. And in our multiple modes of response, we might in turn enact an altered relationships to power.

[1] https://www.futurity.org/dark-matter-axions-detector-1726622/

[2]  Simulations performed at the University of Goettingen by Mr Jan Veltmaat, Dr Bodo Schwabe, and Prof Jens Niemeyer.

…………………….

https://www.iamanagram.com/

All images copyright and courtesy of Aura Satz

 

The post Voices appeared first on Interalia Magazine.

Cartoon Logic

Andy Holden: Laws of Motion in a Cartoon Landscape. Print No.4

Richard Bright: Can we begin by you saying something about your background?

Andy Holden: How far back should I go? I’ve just started reading Tristram Shandy and maybe I should go back to before I was born and start there. I wish either my father or my mother, or indeed both of them, as they were in duty both equally bound to it, had minded what they were about when they begot me; had they duly consider’d how much depended upon what they were then doing;–that not only the production of a rational Being was concerned in it, but that possibly the happy formation and temperature of his body, perhaps his genius and the very cast of his mind… I make art, in various forms, and have done since art-school, and did so before that, and made a few exhibitions in Public Houses. My Grandma collected ceramic cats and that was a big influence, my father is a bird-watcher by trade, which was initially not an influence, but now is crucial to what I do and resulted in us making an exhibition called Natural Selection together. I get my energy and the more social aspects of my personality from my mum, who did all manner of jobs. I also play music with my band the Grubby Mitts which we have been doing for a long term but struggle to get the music heard. I still live in Bedford where I grew up. I once started a failed art-movement called Maximum Irony! Maximum Sincerity, or MI!MS. Some of this sort of information filters into my art work, some of it gets used directly, some sincerely, some ironically, but non of it in itself is that interesting. I feel increasingly silly for having put as much of that information into my work as I have, but all of it informs how I see things and so I had to try and understand that filter that these biographical facts create, so I might know my own umwelt.

Andy Holden: Towards a Unified Thoery of MIMS, Zabludowicz Collection, installation view, 2013

RB: Have there been any particular influences to your art practice?

AH: There are a number of interaction with art works that in hindsight were pivotal. Some of these were seeing friends make things, particularly my group of friends that as teenagers tried with me to make MI!MS, especially the music they were writing. There were bolts of divine inspiration, the clouds parting and rays of light cutting through and the ground below gentle trembling from encounters with Andy Warhol paintings when I was about 14, as I saw a show at Tate and felt totally comfortable; like I understood it immediately, and felt for the first time legitimately like maybe I could be an artist too. I had similar encounters later with an epic Philip Guston painting; I had it peaking once into the microcosm of a Joseph Cornell box, I had it from following a trail of curious objects left behind by Marcel Broodthaers. I for a while idolised Robert Smithson. As a teenager I loved Silvia Plath and memorised some poems. I have complete reverence for Virginia Woolf. I for a time binged only on David Foster Wallace. I bought a Kurt Voneggut screen print that hangs over the Kitchen Table. I bought ever Super Furry Animals record. I had a Pavement phase. I love my friends Ed Atkins and Mark Leckey and Heather Phillipson’s work. The cultural black hole of Bedford keeps me routed as I can’t, as Alan Moore said of Northampton, get the velocity up to escape, and the influence of place can’t be under-estimated. My dad’s influence too, which I explore in Natural Selection. Cartoons maybe the single biggest influence, Wile E. Coyote, Bugs Bunny. Kids TV too. Reading Deleuze at college, reading Mark Fisher after college.  I’m a giant tangle of influences, for a time I feared I was just the total sum of all my influences, but now I have hopefully reached a point that I don’t really rely on them as much as I once clearly used to; or maybe there are now just so many that it’s hard to spot each of the ingredients in the murky brown mixture. Kanye West really kept me going for a while recently, the way he puts things together, but recently I had an allergic reaction and have weened myself off. I’m off to see Bob Dylan this evening at Hyde Park, I always promised myself I’d see him once, as of course at some stage he was an influence. In all honesty like most now my visual diet is weird clips on YouTube or Threads on Twitter and these are what get under my skin.

Andy Holden: Eyes in Space.

RB: What is the underlying focus of your work?

AH: The layer of strata at the bottom of all this, once all the sediment is scraped away? I’m still digging down and down, tunneling, trying to stop the inevitable synchronistic motion of things and enter into a more diachronic movement. However every time the spade strikes something blunt and hard I explain with glee, ‘the bottom, the bottom, the bed-rock’, I’ve arrived! – only to find it is just another rusty old chest or lump of slag from the anthropocene or worse still my memory; and the underlying matter is still deep below and I can still hear it rumbling. If one day I have exhausted the justifications, I have reached bedrock and my spade is turned. Then I am inclined to say: ‘This is simply what I do’. That last lines not mine, I just remembered it, after starting what I thought was an original metaphor, it’s a quote from Wittgenstein.

Andy Holden: Laws of Motion in a Cartoon Landscape, character study.

 

Andy Holden: Laws of Motion in a Cartoon Landscape, promo.

RB: You are taking part in the Science Gallery, London exhibition ‘Dark Matter: 95% of the Universe is missing’, with an immersive new installation ‘Laws of Motion in a Cartoon Landscape’. Can you say something about your involvement in this?

AH: I think in all honesty my involvement is a bit tenuous. Laws of Motion is as much about politics, economic and art as it is physics and really nothing to do with Dark Matter. It looks at Cartoon Logic, and re-writes the rules of the Cartoon World, based on O’Donnells laws of the Cartoon, but to try to explain that the world has now become a cartoon. This requires a quantum entanglement of physics with everything else, and makes claims that forces such as Gravity only take place when we are aware of them and so need to be linked to consciousness, and that all matter in the cartoon world is conscious and sentient.    It took six years to make it, and I finished it in 2016 just at the moment of Trump and Brexit and suddenly the notion the world was a cartoon has a more persuasive validity.

RB: You have stated that “an exploration of cartoon physics might help us understand the world we now inhabit”. Can you say more about this?

AH: If the world is now a cartoon, then the best way to understand it is to examine how physic and logic work in the very cartoons that first created this landscape, and how this new non-logical and physical space was created and able to be visualised. This is a diachronic movement, or Marxist premise; we look at how something was formed in order to understand how it now works. Cartoon physics was created by many things happening simultaneously; changes in theoretical physics – space-time changed, certainly were a major factor, but it wasn’t just a new understanding of the physical world that made this possible; simultaneously photography advanced, it became possible for images to move, Freud discovered the unconscious, Cinema created a new mass spectacle, modernism saw objects being split into artificial pieces as the whole was seemingly dismantled, and as speed increased understanding of the world shifted, and objects seemed to take on a life of their own. Law 1 is –  Any body suspended in space will remain in space until made aware of it situation. This for example, as the film shows, is a good way of explaining both the financial crash of 2008 and the method of the artist to make artwork in the world at the moment.  And in the last two years has been the go-to metaphor to explain almost every political moment from Brexit onwards, it’s an image entirely suited for our times; you won’t fall down until you look down. I wish I had collected every instance in which I had heard this analogy deployed on the news. Those that don’t look down are the only ones who can survive in the current moment. That’s why Bugs Bunny is who we need to aspire to, as he/she can navigate the landscape perfectly.

RB: In terms of the viewer, what are you trying to communicate with this work?

AH: At times the work feels close to the tone of a conspiracy theory video, and it should explain how a view of the world can be created and made plausible through the combination of otherwise unconnected elements, and make us aware of how easy this can be. And how in a space where it seems anything can happen not anything can, rules, or laws, are always being created. The work is 10,000 words spoken at the speed of a cartoon chase sequence, it is a cartoon of a lecture and a lecture on cartoons; it’s very hard to say something about the work that the work doesn’t already say.

Andy Holden: Cartharsis, ceramic cats, grandma collection, 2016

 

Andy Holden: Catharsis, ceramic cats, grandma collection, unboxing video, 2016

RB: In your view, what are the lines that connect art and science?

AH: Imagination and inquisitiveness are two major motorways between the two capital cities, but all lines connect to all other things, they are just more minor roads. We live inside an epic mesh, it’s just some lines become more dominant through more constant use, the ones we build service stations on. In the modern period we tried to make all disciplines appear separate and unconnected but this, even at the very first moment of the creation of the air-pump, as Bruno Latour shows us, was never really the case. Perhaps, to go back to the previous question, it’s to make this interconnectedness more visible that is part of what the work attempt to communicate.

Andy Holden: Pyramid Piece and Return of the Pyramid Piece, (knitted yarns, foam, steel, 3m x 4m x 5m) 2017, installation view Tate Britain, (photo credit: Andy Holden).

RB: What other projects are you currently working on?

AH: I’m actually a bit stuck right now. I’m running a small project space in Bedford, showing an exhibition I’ve curated called The Long Revolution, looking at change in the countryside since the enclosures act – from the poetry of John Clare as explored by Andrew Kotting to Mark Baumers death walking bare foot across America in 2016, however I have not had a single visitor to the show in three weeks. I have written a new pop album with the Grubby Mitts but we can find a record label after I folded the little label I used to run as it was suffering the same fate as the project space now is. My dad and I are collaborating on a project about bird migration routes for a performance in February, and our collaborative exhibition Natural Selection is currently on show at Bristol Museum until September and so that should give me some studio time to scratch around and feel out what the next project might be. I now unfortunately can no longer kid myself how long it takes me to make a large scale new project, four years is a quick one, although other things I can do quicker. So it is just little more digging until I’m able to just say, hopefully; this is simply what I do.

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https://andyholdenartist.com/

All images copyright and courtesy of Andy Holden

The post Cartoon Logic appeared first on Interalia Magazine.

There’s more to this than meets the eye

Yu-Chen Wang at CCCB 2019 Arts at CERN

Richard Bright: Can we begin by you saying something about your background?

Yu-Chen Wang: I’m originally from Taiwan and I’ve lived and worked in the UK for quite some time… actually next week, it would be 19 years exactly. I was trained as a designer, specialising in visual communication. When I moved to London, by chance I went on to study art at Goldsmiths and I’ve worked as a practicing artist ever since.

RB: Have there been any particular influences to your art practice?

Y-CW: One of the major influences is my life experience in and between Taiwan and the UK. For a long time, I try to understand Britain/Britishness – I treat it almost like an ongoing research project. I have travelled extensively and actively undertaken artist-in-residence in different regions as a way to explore local histories and meeting new people. In a way, I’m taking the opportunity to learn more about the country and trying to make up what I don’t know or I haven’t had a chance to experience previously.

Funny enough, I start to think there’s an urge for me to do similar things in Taiwan. Not only I feel like there’s a lot I need to catch up, but also to discover something completely different – because I’ve been away for so long, I would approach things quite differently now. Also with Taiwan’s colonial past and the dictatorship, only in recent years a lot of untold histories begin to merge and being talked about. It’s like getting to know Taiwan in a new way.

Quantum In Search of the Invisible catalogue, 2019 CCCB

RB: What is the underlying focus of your work?

Y-CW: I see my work very much focuses on research and process, experience and relationship. There’s a particular way for developing my work, which often involves a period of time spent in a specific place. I would then undertake extensive research the contextual histories and engage with a group of locally-based people or specialists who would assist my research. Two major components I’d like to explore generally: the archives and archaeology, which form the main source of inspiration for developing my work.

I have spent a lot of time in various archives going through documents, photos and footage. Often I find myself working like a historian trying to interpret documentations – it’s a form of storytelling. I am fascinated by the archival materials, as they are of the past, from another period of time, not now not my time, someone else’s memory… often in this context, the use of technology for documentation becomes particularly interesting.

Sometimes I think I work like an archaeologist exploring various heritage sites (historic landmarks, abandoned places, ruins or sites for regeneration projects…) and objects (remains in historic sites, artifacts in the museum collections, at abandoned places or junk yards…). Not necessary taking part in physical digging or excavations, but I would look for tangible evidence to further expand the missing narratives from interpreting archives.

Often I would engage with a group of people helping with my research. They’re the catalysts for me to connect to places and to unfold stories. It is important to form a relationship with the group; through repeated meetings, a lot of rich materials would naturally come out, they’re original and potentially very inspirational. I guess that’s a very important part of my practice – knowledge exchange. Through this exchange, a new network is formed for connecting people and places and telling (new) stories – that’s how I make work.

Yu-Chen Wang: There’s more to this than meets the eye, 2019 (detail) pencil on paper 2100 x 1310mm

RB: Drawing is central to your practice. How would you define your approach to drawing and its process?

Y-CW: For me, making drawing is very much about the process, various acts of accumulating, rendering, processing and reflecting. Before I make drawings, I collect a lot of images related to whatever project I’m working on, often from the archives, sometimes from my own camera. I don’t make sketches or preparatory drawings – I would just draw as if the pencil lines organically growing and spraying out on the paper. I make drawings on the table, often some part of the paper is rolled up due to the limited studio space and the size of my table. In a way it’s problematic as I’m very close to the paper and I don’t get a chance to see the entire drawing until I finish the work or when the drawing is being exhibited in the gallery. It’s a deliberate decision, as I try to condition the way I work and in the hope of opening up something that is more intuitive and less controlled.

Yu-Chen Wang: We aren’t able to prove that just yet, but we know it’s out there? 2018-19 installation view at CCCB.

Yu-Chen Wang: We aren’t able to prove that just yet, but we know it’s out there? 2018-19 installation view at CCCB.

RB: Can you say something about your work We aren’t able to prove that just yet, but we know it’s out there?

Y-CW: As part of Collide International Awards (2016-18), a partnership between Arts at CERN and FACT, the piece is a direct response to my visit to CERN, conversations I had with physicists there and also the ones in Liverpool.

Inspired by 60’s Bubble Chamber experiment, my work develops a poetic narrative of the histories of recent science: establishing parallel lines between my drawing of apparatus, meetings with physicists and scientific documents found in the archives. Comprising multilayered imageries and voices, We aren’t able to prove that just yet… is a collage of history and fiction, documentation and interpretation.

Over the 2-year EU touring, the work is evolving and has been developed into multiple versions with different languages and spatial arrangements for each venue. The piece have been shown at FACT, Liverpool last year and is currently on show at CCCB, Barcelona and will later travel to iMAL, Brussels and le lieu unique, Nantes. https://arts.cern/artist/yu-chen-wang

Yu-Chen Wang: We aren’t able to prove that just yet, but we know it’s out there? 2018-19 installation view at FACT

RB: You’re taking part in the Science Gallery, London exhibition ‘Dark Matter: 95% of the Universe is missing’. Can you say something about your involvement in this?

Y-CW: The experience of developing CERN-inspired project worked as a foundation for creating this new commission. I was very excited about further expanding what I was researching from quantum to cosmic, from particle physics to astrophysics, a more multi-disciplinary approach. https://london.sciencegallery.com/seasons/dark-matter/exhibition/theres-more-it-meets-eye

Yu-Chen Wang: There’s more to this than meets the eye, 2019 (still)

Yu-Chen Wang: There’s more to this than meets the eye, 2019

I also took part in a panel discussion together with the exhibition adviser and physicist Malcolm Fairbairn (who is also one of the scientists I have interviewed), philosopher Eleanor Knox, chaired by science presenter Helen Arney (also my collaborator, who has delivered the voice over for my piece). It was brilliant that the speakers are from very different fields and to have conversation about scientific truth and the limitation of human knowledge. When we don’t know how to answer the question, turning ourselves to thinking philosophical seems necessary and perhaps helpful. https://london.sciencegallery.com/events/dark-matter-void

RB: In terms of the viewer, what are you trying to communicate in this exhibition?

Y-CW: I wrote the script using a first person’s voice as a reflection of my journey of exploring science – visiting labs, speaking to various physicists, investing scientific images and documentations. The voiceover is delivered by Helen Arney, whose performance was brilliant and humorous, absolutely animates my inner thoughts. Using wireless headphones with music and surround sound effect designed by Capitol K, I’m trying to create an intimate experience of one-to-one moment between the audience and my work. This way of storytelling also shows my approach to science: I almost become a researcher myself adapting certain scientific methods, collecting, analysing and trying to build new experiments and run tests in order to understand more and to make sense of everything.

Yu-Chen Wang: There’s more to this than meets the eye, 2019 (still)

RB: In your view, what are the lines that connect art and science?

Y-CW: Both fields are about asking questions, exploring some unknown territories and looking for something new. These are places where no one has been to or no one knows how to get there. They definitely involve certain level of risk-taking and overcoming endless failures, and most importantly they need to be able to communicate, not just within the community, but to the general public.

In the case of art and physics, it’s interesting that both are trying to make the invisible visible and trying to see differently.

Yu-Chen Wang: There’s more to this than meets the eye, 2019 (still)

RB: What other projects are you currently working on?

Y-CW: I’m continuing to develop the work for Collide International Awards’ touring programme. For the exhibition in Brussels, this evolving piece will have a new life and will be presented in response to the gallery space and local audiences.

I’m working on a couple of projects inspired by the industrial heritage, such as canals in Birmingham and railway in Doncaster. I will work with local community to produce new work in response to the future urban regeneration. Another project in Taipei I will explore the relationship between art and the increasing information-driven technology and the influences on our day to day life.

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www.yuchenwang.com

All images copyright and courtesy of Yu-Chen Wang

The post There’s more to this than meets the eye appeared first on Interalia Magazine.