lovink again, this time on social media's non-role in the arts

In a previous post we noted that Geert Lovink's response to the question, how can social media be used in education? was that it can't. Now he has a post up where the same question is asked about the arts, and gets the same response.

Max Ryan: Art involves a great deal of interpretation, so how does the gallery’s presence on Facebook or other social platforms enable visitors to voice their own interpretations about art and what does this add to an understanding of the work? How is artistic interpretation benefited through comment culture?

Geert Lovink: It doesn’t. Art galleries cannot compensate for the current poverty of the dominant social media platforms that were neither built to expand on details and provide insight nor to spark debate beyond likes and short remarks. Social media platforms as we know them are deeply commercial ‘machines of loving grace’ that aim to provide other machines with valuable data (clicks on adds etc.). The arts are not operating outside of the ‘clickbaiting’ mechanism. The museum sector is completely part of the advertisement ecology in which Google and Facebook play a dominant role.

It's refreshing to read this naysaying after Rhizome's attempt to shame us into using Facebook. Can thoughtful discussions be had on Facebook and Twitter about art, ones that preserve a record of the back-and-forth discussion, so that a year, two years, or six years later, a fair consensus can begin to emerge? No, they can't.

MR: Does the ‘openness’ to external voices exemplify democracy in action or just the rhetoric of tech companies when taking place on social media?

GL: There is no ‘openness’ whatsoever. Social media were not designed to foster debate. All they do is ‘monitor’ short exchanges and impressions. The platforms are used as measurement tools in marketing campaigns. The related ad firms in the background measure likes and retweets and clicks and sell these data profiles to third parties. It does not matter what people say on Facebook or Twitter, and the actual work on social media has been delegated to interns inside PR departments. There are large offices that do the ‘twittering’ for celebrities and CEOs and give constant feedback about the latest ups and downs.

And

MR: In an interview John Stack, the former head of digital transformation at the Tate, said it was the responsibility of the museum to go to where the audience is and prompt conversation online. They saw the where as existing on social media platforms. What do you think of the idea of social media as a discursive space? Can it exist in the same way that is associated with arts spaces? Does the context of the platforms effect this?

GL: Social media as we know them right now are not discursive machines. The internet in general might be, in theory, but the current social media architectures do not facilitate extensive exchanges. There is a historical reason for this. Social media grew out of a specific part of web culture of the blogs, in the early 2000s, after the baroque and excessive dotcom period of e-commerce had fallen to pieces. Social media picked up on the ‘updating’ part of blog culture, and stripped off the content bit. There is a reason why Twitter is limited to 140 characters. There was no technological limitation (not enough bandwidth, computing power, interface etc.).* The same can be said of Facebook’s aversion to discussion and debate. For a good decade already Facebook has been repressing the user’s need for community tools. There is no value in it for them. People need to like and share, say something fast and move on.

The arts do not need quick responses but thorough reflection and then debate about the positions people have formulated. Criticism presumes careful observation. This is then filtered through a rich vocabulary which every discipline has developed over the past decades and even centuries. Believe it or not, this even exists in the case of the internet...

What's needed is long-form writing (with illustrations and diagrams) that stays up reliably in one place for a few years. That's all we ask. Instead we get "shifting sand land."

*See addendum

Stasis Field Day (new Bandcamp release)

Am pleased to announce a new Bandcamp release titled Stasis Field Day. "SID Street 4" is the sixth track on the LP.

Liner notes:

Some of these tunes date back as far as 2009 but all were remixed to bring them up to "Bandcamp standard" (i.e., loud). New parts were written and tracks that sounded sluggish got timestretched to 83.333% of their original length. Lots of modular synth, breakbeats, and vintage beatbox sounds in these. Have fun.

Your support in the form of buying the LPs or songs is very encouraging, but all the material can be streamed.

[embedded player removed]

rene abythe on hacking vs defaults

Taking a second, up-to-date look at Guthrie Lonergan's 2006 Hacking vs Defaults chart (screenshotted in the previous post), Rene Abythe notes that these days tumblr will let you pick a preset style theme that resembles the chart's example of 'hacking':

lonergan_counterexample2

Abythe also says:

This reminds me of something I thought about when I first saw Petra Cortright's work, that she fell into a category that I considered "hacking defaults" e.g. using the preset settings in everyday software to make something that appeared to be the result of "hacking'" (which is a testament to her creative talent). On the flipside, what is commonplace on the web today is "default hacking" ... a person who solely relies on glitch software presets, themes, etc to do all the tedious investigative hacker work for you: the end result becomes practically what once was [Lonergan's] "12 point times new roman."

Good points. Here's one of those Cortrights; as I recall she did these pixel by pixel in MSPaint:

petra_cortright10

And for an example of effortless "cartridge hacking," here's a bearded celebrity, run through ImageGlitcher:

affleck_autoglitched

Domenico Quaranta on surf clubs

In a recent interview curator Domenico Quaranta gives his take on the "so-called surfing clubs generation" and places Nasty Nets, one of the so-called clubs, into a comfortable academic narrative that is about fifty percent fantasy.
As an actual, prolific participant in Nasty Nets, and a continuing, prolific participant in its real time chat descendant, dump.fm (which Quaranta seems not to have heard of), and as an early adopter addressing "internet in the gallery" problems (mine was the first show at And/Or Gallery in 2006), I've had a fun time combatting misinformation about these cultural moments (see, e.g., this Q&A).
Below is a chunk of the Quaranta interview with some impertinent interruptions. The questions (by Melanie Bühler) are in bold and my comments are italicized.

...In what sense has appropriating content as part of artistic production shifted with the rise of the internet when compared to earlier artistic strategies connected to appropriation?

...Early surfing clubs like Nasty Nets mark the turning point in which artists active online realized that filtering and recontextualizing general web content was more interesting, and more topical, than designing the web. Artists built relationships looking at each other’s delicious account, and were deeply aware of how a simple blog post can be a powerful act of re-framing, as texts such as Kevin Bewersdorf’s “Spirit Surfing” prove.

TM: "How a simple blog post can be a powerful act of re-framing" was an issue I'd been dealing with for a few years, as an artist-with-blog, before Bewersdorf's (I felt) overdetermined manifesto. A few simple cues, such as a mildly authorative-looking white page, were sufficient to effect this transformation. I didn't see the need to dress it up with loopy theories about "spirit surfing."

What was the context in which Nasty Nets emerged? How does it relate to earlier internet art and is there a relation to what later emerged as post-internet art?

The so-called surfing clubs generation shows elements of continuity with and resistance against the former “net.art” generation.

TM: Resistance yes, continuity, not so much. Quaranta attempts to normalize Nasty Nets as some kind of bridge or synthesizing movement.

Resistance is made explicit in Guthrie Lonergan’s famous “Hacking vs Defaults” diagram, and is related to the broader shift from Web 1.0 to Web 2.0, from html to blogging platforms, and to the artist’s shift from the position of internet pioneer to amateur user among many others.

TM: See the famous diagram and my discussion of it below.

Continuity is related to the participation of artists of the former generation, like Olia Lialina, and younger artists grown up in the cult of early net.art, like Cory Arcangel, in surfing clubs; but also to the ability of the former generation to anticipate tastes and topics of the new.

TM: Cory Arcangel was never a surf club participant, that's inaccurate. Lialina was invited to join NN seven months after it started. She adapted well to the blog format but was not an innovator of blog-based art, in the sense that, say jimpunk had been with the 544x378 WebTV.

There is a lot of interest in defaults in early net.art, too. Many early net.art works deal with appropriation, reframing and the absence of the digital original, and some artists have always been attracted by digital folklore.

TM: Unfortunately net.art didn't find a dynamic way to engage an audience with these issues, such as a group blog, but instead relied on links from institutions that told you what you would be consuming and what to expect.

Despite Lonergan’s diagram, early net art is not all about “sophisticated breaking of technology” and glitch aesthetics.

TM: Quaranta is arguing with Lonergan now! This is partisanship masquerading as an objective curatorial point of view. Lonergan embodies his comparison in the contrast between my blog and JODI's "blogs," a topic Quaranta is completely unwilling or unable to tackle.

hacking_vs_defaults

Also, the surfing club generation, at least at the beginning, shared with net art the interest in the internet as a way to exist as an artist outside of the art world, away from its rules and its contexts.

TM: That's not true, you find art references throughout Nasty Nets posts. Several of the members were artists or art school trained.

At the same time, the surfing club generation created the conditions for the later shift toward post-internet.

TM: Possibly the surfing club generation WAS post-internet.

Two of the core features of post-internet — namely, the creation of works that can fit the exhibition space while simultaneously addressing the artist’s experience of the internet, and the importance given to documentation and mediated experience of art — find their roots here.

TM: It wasn't a "root" -- we were talking about these issues. It's just that the more interesting, urgent question was "what would a blog-based art look like?" An actual schism over a shift from blog-based art to gallery based art happened later, with Paintfx.biz, which broke up over this issue, as Michael Manning noted in a recent panel. I don't know if I'd call that progress.

When your practice manifests itself mainly in collecting or making images, collecting or making videos, what prevents you from getting into the white cube? Pictures and videos are totally gallery-friendly; the audience that you can find in the gallery is now familiar with the internet jokes, stories and aesthetics, as Lialina acutely pointed out;

TM: This wasn't always so true. The response to my 2006 show in Brooklyn, "Room-Sized Animated GIFs," was like, "what's a GIF?"

and if you want to resist commodification you can always make fun of the “art object,” e.g. by choosing some cheap print on demand service to materialize a digital file. Artists like Kevin Bewersdorf and Guthrie Lonergan stopped being active as artists when they realized that their practice was, like it or not, bringing them straight into the gallery.

TM: Bewersdorf and Lonergan both took hiatuses but are back, with coverage in Rhizome and ArtNews, respectively. Did they pause because "their practice was bringing them straight into the gallery"? We don't know, but it's a good story.

The importance given to online documentation of art was pioneered by surfing clubs like VVORK, a blog run by a group of artists (including Oliver Laric and Aleksandra Domanovic) and featuring mostly pictures of artworks displayed on a white background with an essential reference (anticipating a trend in art blogging in which the flow of images and their arrangement prevail over text);

TM: One could say that Vvork was a conservative step backward, shifting the focus of a group blog from "the whole world" or at least "the whole internet" to obsession with the narrow confines of gallery-based practice. Some of us noted this at the time.

and is related to this generation’s perception of the networked computer as their natural environment, and thus as their main context for any kind of experience, included the experience of art. We could update Picasso’s famous statement saying that, for them, a found online image is better than the Nika; and an online image of the Nika is better than the Nika itself, because it’s ubiquitous, free, easy to share and use, spreadable and loaded with information (tags, metadata etc.). I’m wondering if Brian Droitcour [5] is aware of how conservative his criticism of post-internet—an art, in his own words, that looks crappy in the gallery and great online—may appear from this perspective. Making an expensive artwork and placing it in a respected white cube for the sole purpose of generating a good JPG may actually be the most corrosive challenge brought by netizen artists to the art world and its values. The gallery is not openly criticized, but subtly abused by turning it into a stage, and insulted by treating it not as a point of arrival, but of departure in an endless process of redistribution.

TM: This is a rehash of whether Guthrie Lonergan's phrase "internet aware art" meant art based on the internet or art made ready for the internet, which has been covered extensively here and on Rhizome.

Joel Holmberg mentions that many artists whose practices were connected to the internet and surfing clubs like Nasty Nets have moved towards more painterly, visual practices. Would you agree with this and how does this again relate to the label post-internet?

As said above, the surfing clubs participants were more interested in images than in codes. While the first net.art generation was, to some extent (and with some exceptions) iconoclastic, the second is, no exceptions, iconophiliac when not even iconolatric. Also, most of them were attracted, since the early days, by the practice of computer drawing, and by the way in which postproduction tools like Photoshop implemented metaphors and gestures taken from reality and from the field of painting. So, no surprise if they kept working on this. But it would be wrong to think that the main motivation behind this move was the will to get in the art market with an easy to get, easy to sell art form. The market success of artists like Petra Cortright, Michael Manning, Jon Rafman and Parker Ito is just the top of an iceberg made of thousands of GIFs, PNGs and JPGs circulated for free online.

TM: This is all fine, and I suppose we had to end by talking about someone's "market success."

proto-"post internet definition" art

In this recent interview I said that Nasty Nets wasn't concerned with gallery display issues (what is now being called -- ugh -- post internet) but forgot my own post on "gallery hardware."
The link was to a blog discussion at digitalmediatree.com/tommoody about a gallery-friendly brand of computer (which is quaint but still needed as most GIF display alternatives are so crappy) and what I was calling digital non-sites. This is all "post internet" by any current flaky definition of the term.
Continuing this theme of astonishing clairvoyance, I also had a post in 2006, "Showing new media work in the gallery": what's at stake." This was reblogged by Eyebeam and pronounced "self indulgent but useful," or words to that effect.
For that matter, this three part interview that Paddy Johnson did with Michael Bell-Smith and me, titled "Geeks in the Gallery," deals with some of these same issues.