Critical digital culture and media arts · Since 1993
The Neural Archive is a repository of publications collected by us during the years. Browse our collection here.
Sometimes the online world reveals unsuspected parallel dimensions. This is an unknown restyle of Neural independently (and secretly as we never knew about it) made by NY-based Motion and Graphic Designer, Clarke Blackham. Very nicely made, perhaps only a bit glossier for the magazine’s line, it testifies once more how even your most familiar outcomes can have another life somewhere else.
The value of craft after software sounds rampant sometimes, expressing the freedom of escaping repetitive taps and clicks to accomplish some assumed tasks. Mixing media, electricity, electronics, mechanics and inert objects Graham Dunning has realised a structured track/performance/open script in his “Mechanical Techno: Ghost in the Machine Music.” More than a proof of concept a machine music declination.
Isn’t ASCII Art a perfect form of “graffiti” in 2010s? The 8-bit aesthetics is among the strongest visual references connecting the analogue recent past with the omni-digital present, so why not adopt it to finally have some public art embedded in the present? In Varberg, Sweden, 2016, the GOTO80 crew (feat: Karin Andersson) did it, choosing (not by accident) the Mo Soul Amiga-font.
YesNo by Timo Kahlen feels like “traditional” net art, a well crafted stuck webpage for the user’s aural and clickable enjoyment.
The relationship between Andy Warhol and personal computers (becoming quite popular during his last years) has been only partially investigated beyond his Amiga works. In November 2015, Sotheby’s sold his “Apple (from Ads)” (acrylic and silkscreen ink on canvas) for 910.000 USD, and in catalogue’s notes Warhol tells about his meeting with Steve Jobs insisting to give him one and showing him how to draw (even if still in black and white): “we went into Sean [John Lennon’s son]’s bedroom–and there was a kid there setting up the Apple computer that Sean had gotten as a present, the Macintosh model. I said that once some man had been calling me a lot wanting to give me one, but that I’d never called him back or something, and then the kid looked up and said, ‘Yeah, that was me. I’m Steve Jobs.’ And he looked so young, like a college guy. And he told me that he would still send me one now. And then he gave me a lesson on drawing with it. It only comes in black and white now, but they’ll make it soon in color…I felt so old and out of it with this young whiz guy right there who helped invent it.”
Harsh Noise Wally, is a sophisticated mashup mixing strips of Wally, the lazy and cynic colleague of Dilbert with some epic noise music extreme attitudes. Well conceived and assembled.
Minority Report comes closer… Three huge screens at Birmingham New Street railway station are scanning passers-by and play advertisements accordingly. http://www.birminghammail.co.uk/news/midlands-news/new-street-station-advertising-screens-9920400
GoPro ancestors in the 1960s and 1970s, mainly sport and movie persons like F1 driver Jackie Stewart, Bob Sinclair and Steve McQueen.
Mörel Books/Sharjah Art Foundation/The MIT Press, ISBN-13: 978-1907071805, English, 400 pages, 2021, USA
Omar Kholeif has produced an extensive body of exhibitions and books on the impact of the online dimension through the critical lens of contemporary artists. This book is an “expanded path” beyond the exhibition of the same name he curated at the Sharjah Art Foundation (initially postponed due to the pandemic), which involved sixty artists. Here he explores how the internet, and the radical changes it has brought to our lives over the past two decades, have triggered an exponentially growing anxiety due to the wide range of possible abuses, obvious or subtle, that can be perpetrated online. The architecture of the book attempts to continue the “labyrinthine corridors” of the exhibition space and is a collection of very different texts: from Kholeif’s academic essay to Douglas Coupland’s sequence of numbered short paragraphs to Cory Arcangel’s account of Andy Warhol’s lost computer graphics and Saira Ansari’s analysis of online grief. The texts are interspersed with photographic extracts of the works on display, creating a fertile alchemy between the different perspectives presented and the artworks themselves. It is a restless but fascinating journey through themes such as synthetic money, mental health in isolation, the evaporation of privacy and the performed self, interpreting what Kholeif brilliantly defines as the “free-falling present”.
