Questions by Marco Deseriis
a.k.a. Snafu [Italy]
Answers by Lev Manovich
[7/01]
Q. Analyzing the language of digital culture, your book
takes an inspiring screenshot of the major shift we are leaving in. All new
media - you say - are programmable, because they share the same digital code.
The procedures of sampling, cutting and pasting an audio, text, image or video
file are almost identical. How this will influence the creative process and,
generally speaking, our perception? Wagner or Baudelaire’s aspirations to
a synesthetic correspondence amongst the senses are becoming real? Or, is this
process only cognitive and immaterial, and will not be able to affect in depth
our relationship with the external world? In other terms, the convergence of
all the media into the digital realm is a mind and neural process that will cut
out the body experiences, or it will re-shape it in some way?
A. The idea of establishing correspondence between different
senses and using such correspondence to organize a multimedia work has been
very important for nineteenth and twentieth century art and aesthetics;
however, at some point in the second part of the twentieth century, this idea
loses its importance. Interestingly, this happens approximately at the same
time as electronic and computer technology gave us new tools to create works
where different media tracks have systematic relationships to each other. Maybe
one place in popular culture where this idea still exists today is DJ and VJ
performances. However, simply “slaving” one media track to another
is quite different from more complex notions ideas of senses/media
correlations, such as Eisenstein’s use of contrapunt in his montage
theory.
For
me, computer multimedia holds the promise to represent human subjective
experience in a new way. Unfortunately, I can’t think of a single new
media work, which has systematically tried to do this so far. I think the best
experiments in this direction have been undertaken by filmmakers such as Peter
Greenaway (Prospero’s Books, Pillow Book) and Juan Luc
Godard, whose JLC by JLC. Portrait in December (1994) is the best
multimedia text I know of. In this film Godard uses about half a dozen of
different “media channels” – shots of book pages (i.e.,
text); “normal” film; voice-over; background sound; music –
setting up various relationships between them. I think every new media artist
should go and see this film.
Q. The second question is about the opposition you describe
between representation and control. This opposition involves a different
perception of what an image is. The digital image has tactile proprieties
unknown to the analog ones, while with the Graphical User Interface, the image
becomes the "simulation of a control panel which allow the user to control
a computer". Can you recall
the most fundamental steps, which made this shift culturally and
technologically possible?
A. In the book I suggest that GUI (Graphical User Interface)
which we all use since it was commercialized in 1984 Macintosh,
“virtualizes” more traditional hardware control panel. That is, you
car (still!) has a separate button for every function and the locations of
these buttons are fixed, while in GUI the layout of control panel changes
dynamically depending upon what program(s) you are using; you also can move
icons on the screen yourself. A systematic history of how this transition (from
hardwired control panel to GUI) came about would require more space than I have
here, but let me just mention two important historical points. One: as far as I
know, the original design by Alan Kay from late 1960s-early 1970s (done at
Xerox Parc) for what eventually became GUI had fixed windows that could not be
moved or resized; at some point the decision was made to have dynamic
user-controllable windows. Second: in the 1980s the work on VR interfaces for
pilots done at NASA was motivated by the idea that traditional hardwired
cockpit interfaces became too cluttered and hard to navigate. It would be much
better, the thinking went, to a have a flexible screen based interfaces where
different controls would appear and disappear depending upon the task that the
pilot is doing.
Q. On another level, your book reflect upon the dichotomy
between representational and communication technologies. Teleaction and
telepresence are changing, day by day, our way of perceiving space and time. As
Virilio states, we witness the collapse of the spatial, temporal and human
distance. You have been studying cognitive psychology. Do you have a negative
perception of the effects of telepresence comparable to the French philosopher,
or you see it has an extension of human potentialities? What sort of experience
do we make with telepresence? Does it increase or reduce our capacity to deal
with informations and to synthesize them, as compared to previous media, such
as cinema, radio and television?
A. Rather than telepresence by itself, I am more interested
in what I call co-existence, or co-presence. Co-presence in different spaces is
one of the fundamental aspects of modern and informational societies. You are
driving a car while talking on a cell phone; you are “telepresent”
in different locations via Web cams; you are walking through the airport while
checking your Palm Pilot. One constant in all these examples is the body
present in a particular physical space; another space can take a variety of
different forms. In the first example, it is a “virtual” space of a
conversation between two remote parties; in the second example, it is
“visual” presence in a remote space; and in the third example, it
is the space of information. (Of course, we can also add another example of
multi-tasking, that is, working with different programs and different windows
on a computer – thus being in a number of various information spaces at
once.)
It
may be interesting to relate this everyday modern experience of co-presence to
the lack of synesthetic and montage sensibility in modern art, which I already
mentioned in answering your first question (see above). That is, when I look at various recent
video installations, for instance works by Doug Aitken such as Electric
Earth, I do not see any montage relationships. Rather, in this installation
different video screens are co-present. You look at one screen, then you move
to look at another screen, etc.
Montage
was the dominant aesthetic technique of the twentieth century because people
have experience co-existence of different images, or spaces, or, more generally
realities, as a shock. Today, however, we are completely used to it, both when
different images meet on a single screen or layout (in television, print media,
advertising) and when we ourselves are co-present in different spaces (as in my
examples above). In other words, we take it for granted that we can be in
different spaces at once. I think that art has an important task to
problematise this experience. So I am interested in what can be called
aesthetics of co-presence – the relationships that can be set up between
different spaces. Notice that we are neither talking about VR (the aesthetics
of virtual space) nor about “the relationship between physical and
virtual space” which was a popular topic about five years ago. For me, it
is not about one space or two spaces, but about many spaces at once, which can
be physical or virtual or any combination of the two.
Q. In your book, you explain how the paradigm shift we are
immersed in foregrounds certain elements, which were previously in the
background. One of the most evident is the dynamics or the conflict between the
database and the narrative. New media exalt the database as a collection of
objects, leaving the narrative - proper of previous media such as cinema - on a
secondary level. The narrative has to be deduced by the user, performing a
certain number of operations. Or it can be deduced automatically by a certain
algorithm, such as an intelligent agent. Given this context, who is the new
media narrator or the new media artist today? In which way does she play with
this vast amount of objects and with the softwares created to deal with them?
Can you make specific examples?
A. To a certain extent, artists have always dealt with
database-narrative problem. Think of a filmmaker who chooses limited number of
shots from a much larger set of shots available. Or think of Sassure’s
semiotic theory, according to which (after it was applied in the 1960s to
culture in general), any cultural text can be though as a chain of signs; at
each point the author chooses which sign to use next from a paradigm available.
New
media “externalizes,” or “objectifies” this creative
process. Now the database does not just exist in the mind of the author but is
literally in front of her or him, as clips, images, pieces of code, etc.
presented by a software program.
This
opens up a number of interesting creative possibilities. For instance, it is
possible to create a narrative where each subsequent shot/scene would be chosen
by a computer according to an algorithm. In my book I talk about one of the few
projects which already realized this idea – an interactive TV show designed
by a group of graduate students at Media Lab, University of Art and Design,
Helsinki.
Another possibility that I have been
particularly interested in recently is to create a work that will use a really
big database – let’s say, ten million records. I don’t think
anybody tried to do this yet. I am imagining a novel that, instead of telling
us about a few selected events from the lives of a few characters, would
present us with complete email archives of thousands of people. The trick will
be to contract an appropriate interface to this vast data – I don’t
think simple search tools like what you get in Eudora would be enough.
Q. What is the navigable space, how did it came into
existence? And how is it possible to define a "Poetics of
Navigation”?
A. A typical activity, or behavior characteristic of
information society, is navigation through a space, be it virtual physical
space (as in many computer games, especially first-person shooters and action
games, such as Unreal, Tomb Rider or Mario), or information
space (for instance, surfing the Web). I see navigable space, along with a
database, data visualization and simulation, as one of the new cultural forms
of information society – or, at least, holding the promise of becoming
the one. Therefore, I am interested in what I can call “poetics of
navigation”: how navigation through space can be used as a new way to
tell a narrative or to represent human experience.
My own very small experiment in this
direction is a project Data Beautiful (www.manovich.net/Data_beatiful.html)
that I made using special software by artist Lisa Jevbratt. Lisa’s
software can be used to construct crawlers (the programs which
“crawl” through the Internet, moving from one link to another
– they are used by major search engines to “map” the
Internet) with specific characteristics and then to visualize data obtained by
the crawlers. Lisa invited a number of new media artists to use this software.
For my project I made the crawler which would move through the Internet in a
particular patterns: beginning on a particular page, following a link on this
page to go to another page; then taking a back step to go back to the first
page, etc. In this project, I wanted to focus on navigation (and resulting data
-which I think is indeed quite beautiful!) as a category by itself, regardless
of what data the crawler is looking for.