Airlock Park alludes to themes of media legacies and of the passing train of technology. In accord with the theorist Régis Debray [INTERVIEW], I understand the creation of art as inseparable from the media in which it is inscribed; that media carries the transmission of art and culture from one generation to the next; that the history of human culture is coincident with the history of its technology. Hence the move to digital — its infinite reproducibility, with repercussions on artwork distribution and threats by copyright law; the obsolescence of playback hardware and the possibility of "lost histories"; the malleability of digital media in the hands of software — poses issues for the legacy of art and culture. Taking the possibilities and hazards of digital media to one possible limit, I propose an image apocalypse, breaking our image collections into fragments, preparing the ground for the work. The works in Airlock Park approach the present from the future, imagining recollections of our times, reconfiguring the detritus of our media. Walter Benjamin's angel of history surveys the digital pile-up.
Unpacking,
1. The ruin.
A proposal: an image apocalypse dealt upon this world, leaving behind media fragments and artifacts. As a kid, I was struck by a story I had read in Reader's Digest, or to be exact, a Reader's Digest Condensed edition, which we received biannually as a bonus to our magazine subscription. (RD: a pre-Oprah primer for middle-class, middle-of-America culture for the new immigrant family.) In the story, future archaeologists rummage through our present detritus and surmise its usage. The story included illustrations of the finds within the caverns of trash, with the example I remember best being a toilet seat imagined as a ceremonial headdress, decorated with the honorific SANITIZED.
The typically postmodern trope of the ruin seems a fitting way to start again. Applied to our troves of imagery, all fragments become untethered, encouraging a search which is both synoptic and haphazard. The archaeologist blows on the embers to see which ones still glow.
2. The transmission of art.
The idea of image ruins is tied to the question of the legacy of art. I see the history of art as a repertoire of gestures, and art objects as the recordings of these gestures. In this picture, the primary focus is on the events of discovery and transmission, rather than the meaning of the artwork. The artwork is a carrier of that which is the provenance of art, that is, its traditions and mythologies. "Mythologies" seems a better term than, say "histories", or "narratives", as art has its archetypes (the trickster, the seer), and its tales sit in the memory like legend. Art plays on the imagination; that is, its gestures seek to be emulated.
In this picture of art as a transmission through (recorded) gestures, documentation of an artwork may at times be good enough to stand in for the work. In effect, pace Benjamin, the copy disseminates the aura of the original; the "aura" being nourished by our understanding of the traditions and legends passed down through art.
Marcel Duchamp, Fountain
Marcel Duchamp, Fountain.
Bas Jan Ader, In Search of the Miraculous
Bas Jan Ader, In Search of the Miraculous.
3. The airlock.
The airlock provides the affective space for the work, setting the stage for remembrance and recollection. In abstract terms, the airlock is the point of divide between the embracing warmth of the socius and the cold terror of individuation. In movie terms, it is the moment before the drop, before the leap into the unknown. The airlock is the transition between worlds, and, with its attendant ruminations, a silent and insulated container for worlds of its own. It contains dreams lingering into wakefulness, the anxieties of the insomniac, the reveries of the dying.
Still from 2001: A Space Odyssey.
Still from 2001: A Space Odyssey.