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ZERO1 and Leonardo/ISAST announce Strategic Partnership

Two pioneers of Art, Science and Technology Forge Alliance

November 2022, San Francisco and Oakland, CA. ZERO1: The Art & Technology Network (ZERO1) and Leonardo, the International Society for Arts, Sciences, and Technology (Leonardo/ISAST) are thrilled to announce that we have entered into a strategic partnership to amplify the impact of our respective organizations and integrate our extensive global networks.

The rationale for this partnership is evident in our closely aligned missions and visions; our shared history and legacy at the junction of art, science and technology. The resonance of our mutual commitments across creative sectors extends into our programs and the communities they reach. Leonardo has developed a robust international network spanning 135 countries through the readership of our flagship journal and book series, as well as the proliferation of Leonardo Art Science Evening Rendezvous (LASER) speaker series, now hosted in over 50 cities around the globe. ZERO1 has nurtured an international network through community-building during the ZERO1 Biennial that ran through 2012 followed by expanded engagement in 31 countries through cultural exchange facilitated as part of its American Arts Incubator and Creative Impact Labs. Both organizations have furthered transdisciplinary thought and practice through residencies, fellowships, labs, public art, summits, and symposia that contribute to the vibrant creative community we are thrilled to now bring together.

This burgeoning partnership will bring our two non-profit organizations into deep operational and programmatic collaboration, taking advantage of synergies and complementary program activities to become more efficient and effective in our work. Towards these ends, Leonardo has invited ZERO1 Founder, Andy Cunningham, to join its Board of Directors, and ZERO1 Executive Director, Shamsher Virk, will assume the role of senior director for programs & operations at Leonardo. Diana Ayton-Shenker, Leonardo CEO says, “We are thrilled to welcome Andy Cunningham to our Board, and Shamsher Virk to our team. Integrating ZERO1 leadership and talent into Leonardo enriches our work, capacity, and potential for positive impact.” ZERO1 Executive Director, Shamsher Virk, adds that “this partnership is an example of ZERO1’s commitment to collaboration with peers in the field and underscores our dedication to expanding the collective global network of creative minds.” Details of the operational partnership will be fleshed out over the coming months; the organizations have already begun working closely together to integrate programs, leadership and network. We look forward to a fruitful collaboration and deep partnership.

On the final day of our lab experience in Jordan, participants, C-Hub + IDare staff, and I tromped up cascading waterfalls in Wadi Mujib. It was our final experience together - a capstone in embodied research, and most memorably, a really fun field trip. Wadi Mujib is a canyon with a river flowing through it that empties out into the Dead Sea. The water is sacred, and the site has been developed into a well-run tourist operation, yet one still feels wild exploring the twists and turns of the canyon and the crystal blue-green water that flows down over red rocks.

Participants celebrating under the waterfall at Wadi Mujib
Participants celebrating under the waterfall at Wadi Mujib. Photo by Isabel Beavers.

For many of the participants on our trip, it was the first time they had experienced this sort of outdoor adventure. It was my first time at Wadi Mujib as well, making it novel for us all. There are moments during the kilometers-long ascent up to the waterfall that are peaceful; you can float, belly up, gazing at the towering red rocks above you, reflections of the water shimmering like a mirage.

Raghad and Ala make their way up the canyon
Raghad and Ala make their way up the canyon. Photo by Isabel Beavers.

There are also moments that are treacherous; fighting your way up the crashing weight of a waterfall over slippery rocks when a strange hand appears from above, pulling you over the ledge. You climb up, exasperated. In the end, all thirteen of us made it all the way up to the waterfall and back down. It was wild, but invigorating.

Nawal after finishing the climb
Nawal after finishing the climb. Photo by Isabel Beavers.
Ahmad Ameen discusses work in the Re-Rooting exhibition at Darat al Funun
Ahmad Ameen discusses work in the ‘Re-Rooting’ exhibition at Darat al Funun. Photo by Isabel Beavers.

This might be a great way to describe the entire experience of Creative Impact Lab Amman: wild yet invigorating. Our workshop was full of research: we visited Darat al Funun, a contemporary art center in Amman, to see the exhibition Re-rooting. This exhibition was certainly wild, with live plant works, installations including jars of water, and tumbling orange crates.

Hussein Alazaaat's piece Jordanian Food Stickers
Hussein Alazaaat, ‘Jordanian Food Stickers’, 2022. Photo by Isabel Beavers

The exhibition was poignant and central to our research on water sustainability in Jordan. In Re-rooting “the constellation of works presented attempts to untangle the complex histories that make up the current crisis of economy and ecology, not only in an effort to denunciate them but also to showcase hacks, diversions, and solutions. They look at forms of self-determination and autonomy performed by local communities as a rejection of normalized exploitative and colonial models.” This exhibition became central in our thinking around the issues present in the region that relate to water sustainability: it is all rooted in the land, in autonomy over the land, and agency in one’s own future. 

Eman Haram's piece Mother of Oranges, Jaffa
Eman Haram, Mother of Oranges, Jaffa, 2022. Photo by Isabel Beavers

Our learnings from an activity with CEWAS Middle East were equally as inspiring for participant projects. Aline Bussman led us through a workshop on the water system in Jordan. We were able to understand the complex web of inputs and outputs, and the lens of cultural + social perspectives of water, that make sustainability so challenging. It is not neat, it is not straightforward. The aquifers that supply Jordan with water are being emptied, and unlike surface water, aquifers cannot be refilled. Leaky transportation pipes and public perceptions against recycled water all present challenges to creating more sustainable processes for water consumption in the area. 

Participants talk through the water system in Jordan and its challenges in a workshop led by Aline Bussman of CEWAS Middle East
Participants talk through the water system in Jordan and its challenges in a workshop led by Aline Bussman (CEWAS Middle East). Photo by Mohammad Saradeeh.

Through their projects, participants turned their inspirations into projection mapping + sculptural artworks using video, sound, and sculpture. The projects reflected metaphorically on our condition in relation to water: Nasser + Abdullah’s project ‘Love Drops’ likening the human race to a fish out of water, flopping in panic. They also ruminated on our intrinsic linkages: Seem and Sanya’s Fishbowl, and Salam and Maha’s Sea Waves Speak reflect on the ways in which humans and fish are tied in our wellbeing. Afnan’s SoS considers the relationships between the human body and health, and the environmental body and health. Some even took more direct inspiration from Re-Rooting: Hiba’s project The Orange Tree comments personally on the Palestinian struggle to reclaim the Jaffa tree production, using the symbolic orange and home-grown orange plants as a moment of personal activism.

Project prototype Sea Waves Speak
Salam Rizik Marji Alkotaifan and Maha Atallah Moahmoud Alkalaileh, Sea Waves Speak, 2022. Photo by Mohammad Saradeeh.

 

Installation view of The Uncertainty of Rain
Installation view of ‘The Uncertainty of Rain’: L to R: Nawal Almasoud, ‘The Water Tank’; Hiba Kraiwish, ‘The Orange Tree’; Nasser Alabdallah and Abdullah Alnatour, ‘Love Drops’. Photo by Mohammad Saradeeh.

Maryam and Raghad’s project Valley of Color reflects on pollution and the impact it has on the integrity of revered water sources like Wadi Mujib. Nawal’s animation visualizes the errors in water transportation and leaky infrastructure.

Raghad Mohammad Mahmou al Malkawi and Maryam Ibrahim Hasan Hallas' piece Valley of Color
Raghad Mohammad Mahmou al Malkawi and Maryam Ibrahim Hasan Hallas, ‘Valley of Color’, 2022. Photo by Mohammad Saradeeh.
Project prototype SoS Save our Souls
Afnan Hammad, ‘SoS (Save our Souls)’, 2022. Photo by Mohammad Saradeeh.

The constellation of works is moving. It is forward thinking, yet also reflective on regional traditions and the unique history of the many people who call Jordan home. Creating these works, like our ascent up the Wadi Mujib, was wild. We encountered many technical challenges, and learned quite a few skills in a short period of time. At times, the language barrier was frustrating, but we found ways to communicate when translation was challenging.

Sanya, Nasser and Seem testing out MadMapper
Sanya, Nasser and Seem testing out MadMapper projection mapping software during our projection mapping demo in the C-Hub. Photo by Isabel Beavers.

Participants learned from each other, assisting one another with projection mapping, ideas for fabrication of their final projects, and hanging the exhibition. This sort of exchange makes learning together rich; when students become teachers, and the typical hierarchy of knowledge production shifts. We all learned from one another, through skill sharing, story telling, and creative production. We all helped each other climb up and over the waterfall.

Nasser Alabdullah and Abdullah Alnatour's piece Love Drops
Nasser Alabdullah and Abdullah Alnatour, ‘Love Drops’, 2022. Photo by Mohammad Saradeeh.
Test prototype of projection mapping on lasercut board
We created this projection mapping prototype by combining videos created by CIL Amman participants during our in-person workshop at the C-Hub. Photo by Isabel Beavers.

The spirit of our cohort and team at IDare and C-Hub allowed us to push forward through this wild process of collaborative creative production, and in the end create something invigorating. The projects were all exhibited together for the public and virtual guests. What is hidden behind them, is the strong bonds we all formed in moving through process:  in learning together, in having new experiences together, in our meals and Google Translate conversations, and quiet moments looking at art.

Two people view artwork at the Jordan National Gallery of Fine Arts
Layth Almyjeb, C-Hub Manager, and Raghad Mohammad Mahmoud Al Malkawi at the Jordan National Gallery of Fine Arts during an elective field trip. Photo by Isabel Beavers.

The participants presented their projects during an in-person final event at the C-Hub in Amman, Jordan. Shamsher Virk (ZERO1), SaraNoa Mark (guest artist + critic) and I joined in remotely. It was disheartening to experience the projects only virtually, but even at a distance, the pride both participants and our team at C-Hub took in the presentation of these ambitious works was palpable. The works are installed in a classroom modified to become a temporary gallery at the C-Hub, and project presentations took place in the makerspace adjacent to the artworks.

Sanya Qumuq presenting
Sanya Qumuq presenting her final project ‘Fishbowl’ (made in collaboration with Seem Alsayeh) during the CIL Amman Final Event at C-Hub. Photo by Mohammad Saradeeh.

Participants shared the concepts, materials, and process of their pieces, as well as future plans for expanding upon these ideas or their creative practice.

Raghad Mohammad Mahmoud Al Malkawi prepares to present
Raghad Mohammad Mahmoud Al Malkawi prepares to present during the CIL Amman final event. Her project was titled ‘Valley of Color’. Photo by Mohammad Saradeeh.
Salam Rizik Marji Alkotaifan before presenting
Salam Rizik Marji Alkotaifan before presenting. Photo by Mohammad Saradeeh.
Guests applaud participant presentations during the final event
Guests applaud participant presentations during the final event. Photo by Mohammad Saradeeh.

Guests to the C-Hub were able to share in this final and critical step of the artist's journey: public presentation. It is clear that the ideas and experiences we had together will live on, and many participants have been planning ways to continue and expand upon their projects. Hiba hopes to host her work in conjunction with a local symphony, Seem and Sanya hope to apply to an art exhibition with the piece. Raghad hopes to make a new work considering concepts around water sustainability. It is my personal hope that the collaborative relationships borne of this exchange will also live on, and that this was the beginning of something wild and invigorating, rather than a predictable end. The spirit of this exchange is what we can hope for in the face of global climate resilience: determination, follow-through, and invigorating collaboration.

Two people holding each other with the other arm outstretched in front of a waterfall in the Wadi Mujib canyon
Peace out! Photo by Isabel Beavers.

 

Feature image credit: Fishbowl, Sanya Qumuq and Seem Alsayeh. Photograph by Mohammad Saradeeh.

From researching underwater adventures in the Red Sea, to learning about the historic sites in the Wadi Rum, the research and preparation phase of the Creative Impact Lab Amman has been exciting and enlightening. The topic for the Lab is sustainability, and given my own recent work on ocean health, I feel compelled to explore water as a cultural and ecological resource in Jordan. Like parts of California (where I currently live), Jordan is stressed for water, while facing additional challenges from the climate crisis and population growth. Aquifers that supply Jordanians with clean water are running dry, impacting both the daily available water for urban dwellers, and the ability for agriculturalists in rural areas to maintain sustainable livelihoods.

I want to raise this as a topic of discussion with the workshop participants and learn about their own relationships to water. How do they feel about the climate crisis in Jordan? In what ways does water show up in their lives — in cultural and historic art and references, in pop culture, in their daily conversations with friends and family? How do they envision the future of water? We will explore these questions through a two-week intensive hosted by IDare for Sustainable Development in the capital city, Amman.

Photogrammetry model of an underwater sponge colony
Still from Submerged Meadow, featuring a photogrammetry model of an underwater sponge colony. Image Courtesy of Isabel Beavers.

Water is both a collective and highly personal resource, so I want our multimedia project to explore methods of collective resilience and collaboration. In my past work facilitating collaborative groups with Mountain Time Arts in Bozeman, Montana, and in my home city of Los Angeles, I have found that the challenges of collaboration bring huge rewards. I hope that as a team we can all learn to work together and generate new ideas and dialogues through the process of co-creating — a skill set that is essential for climate adaptation.

Blue and orange gradients projected onto 10 egg-shaped hanging sculptures
Submerged Meadow at the Seattle Aquarium (2022). Photo by Chris Scarborough.

In reviewing the applications for the Lab, I am excited to see how many participants are passionate about sustainability and water issues in Jordan, while also being excited to incorporate art and technology for creating responses to ecological issues. Our team will include architects, designers, teachers, artists, water experts and more. My hope is that we will all learn from one another, and our collective installation will emerge from the structures of collaboration.

Three collaborators posing for a group photo in front of the dance set with projection coloring them
Collaborative team for The Aquarium (2022). L to R: Joan P. Fricke, Isabel Beavers, Rachael Lovinger. Photo by Rush Varela.

For our collaborative project, we will develop a multimedia installation using sculpture, video, sound, and projection mapping. We will weave influences into the work that are pulled from local art galleries and museums, as well as the participants' own cultural inspirations, research and knowledge. This exchange of ideas, skills, time, meals, and creative production becomes a meaningful part of the process of making. While some of the details regarding the final form of the multimedia installation are to be determined, I am excited to continue creating a structure for our collaboration.

Warm colors are projected onto over a dozen hanging sculptures
Submerged Meadow process shot (2021). Courtesy of Isabel Beavers.

 

Feature image credit: The Aquarium at Heidi Duckler Dance, 2022. Photo by Rush Varela.

Landing a role at ZERO1 almost five years ago to help manage American Arts Incubator, our flagship creative exchange program at the time, was my entry point into working in the arts.

I’d always held a deep appreciation for the value of cultural exchange, having been raised in a binational and bilingual household, majoring in Hispanic Studies during my undergraduate studies, and spending close to a year working at an educational institution in Bangalore in my early 20s.

However, the learning curve from engaging in cultural exchange to being the bearer and molder of this kind of container, while simultaneously deepening my understanding of the media arts field, was a steep one. I’m glad I was able to do so within an organizational culture like ZERO1’s, which focuses deeply on process and encourages taking a critical approach to the tools we use in our work.

Lead Artist Orientation for American Arts Incubator.

I've grappled with many interesting and challenging questions over the last several years: How does one surface and mitigate power dynamics in the context of exchange? How does one approach sensitive social issues in a variety of cultural contexts? What can be bridged through co-creative art making as a vehicle versus another medium, like language? (Also, how does one get an artist to hand in their deliverables on time?).

I’m grateful to have been able to work in collaboration with many artists who also engage with complex questions themselves through their practice, and for being able to craft spaces for them to be in dialogue with each other. I have always been passionate about creating containers and facilitating experiences for others to grow and connect, both personally and professionally.

One of the objectives of our exchange programs is to build mutual understanding between creative communities around the world. To prepare for and contextualize each exchange we facilitate, I’ve delved deeper into a wide variety of topics from the effects of pollution in Alexandria, Egypt to the Maidan Revolution in Ukraine to the Brumadinho Dam Disaster in Minas Gerais, Brazil. On the research trips I’ve made to these locations, after visiting historical sites and conversing with affected communities, I am reminded time and again of the shift from an intellectual understanding to a relational, lived understanding of an issue, rooted in place.

In a time of increased political polarization and isolation due to the pandemic, I feel that exchange through person-to-person connection has taken on an increased urgency. Personally, I have found that the experiences I’ve mentioned above have allowed me to more gracefully toggle between interpersonal relating and awareness of one’s position in larger socioeconomic and political systems while engaging with difficult topics. I often think of Glenn Harris’ words during Race Forward’s annual conference in 2020, “We need to be hard on systems and soft on each other.”

Presenting during a research trip for a creative exchange in Alexandria, Egypt.

In addition, when thinking about community-engaged artists as civic leaders, I’m reminded of Cristobal Martinez’s conceptualization of “artists as ears” — listening deeply before synthesizing, creating, and amplifying. I’ve also seen this style of leadership modeled by my colleague, Shamsher Virk, whom I’ve had the pleasure of working with for my entire tenure at ZERO1. As ZERO1 has evolved over the past five years, he has deftly led the strategic charge. He is a skillful facilitator, inclusive community-builder, and arts administrator extraordinaire; I’ve deeply enjoyed our professional partnership.

Working with a transdisciplinary approach in the arts has allowed me to take a step back and critically re-examine my beliefs about knowledge production in a way that has been liberating — opening up avenues to new ways of understanding myself and the world around us.

This job also opened the door for me to explore and better understand the Bay Area arts scene, which has been a life-enriching opportunity that has exposed me to new experiences, perspectives, and ways of living and being that I could not have imagined when I first arrived in San Francisco.

The War in Ukraine

On a guided tour by researcher Yevgenij Safarians about the Maidan Revolution.

I would be remiss if I didn’t touch on the current situation in Ukraine in this post. Over the course of my time at ZERO1, I’ve had the opportunity to visit the country twice for our creative exchange programming. My first work trip for American Arts Incubator was to Kyiv in 2017, with a subsequent trip in the fall of 2019. I had the opportunity to work closely with the fantastic staff at IZOLYATSIA, an arts organization that had experienced internal displacement in Ukraine from their site in Donetsk in 2014. I visited many galleries, museums, and cultural sites, as well as engaged in conversations with artists, curators, and other knowledge- and culture-bearers within the creatively prolific country.

One reason I am passionate about exchange is that it challenges the myth of the Other. It is a continuous, visceral reminder that people are people everywhere — deserving of peace and basic human rights. It collapses the distance between here and “elsewhere” when tragedies and war happen. Olia, who participated in our 2020 virtual exchange, is sheltering from missiles in a bunker in Kharkhiv, and many of the artists who participated in our programming remain in Kyiv, which has been withstanding Russian attacks since February 25.

As a parting call, I ask that you support fellow artists, curators and cultural workers of Ukraine through the Ukrainian Emergency Art Fund and by getting further informed on the war in Ukraine.

What’s Next?

After my departure from ZERO1, I will be spending some time with my family in Japan. I hope to take some time to switch modes from “doing” to “being,” and see what might arise for me in that space. As an arts administrator, I often get asked whether I have a creative practice myself. I’m much more of a dabbler (over the past seven years, I’ve taken poetry workshops, oral storytelling classes, beginner’s contemporary dance, and more), but am curious to see whether I’m drawn toward any form of creative expression in the coming period. I hope to eventually transition to a full-time communications role. If you’d like to stay in touch, please connect with me on LinkedIn!

Sincerely,

Maya Holm
ZERO1 Program and Communications Manager (2017-22)

 

At Inhotim in Brumadinho, Brazil — one of the largest outdoor art centers in Latin America.

There are no words to describe how grateful and fulfilled I feel after these five weeks of exchange, working together with the San Francisco Bay artists — Stephanie, Jenny, Sharmi, Erik, Marlys, Avital, and Parul. It has been a great pleasure to meet and work with them despite the approximate 6000 miles of physical distance between Vienna and the Bay Area; I have the odd and delightful feeling that I've actually met them in person.

Within the framework of international exchange, I had the pleasure of designing and leading online sessions with the mission of exploring and addressing the social challenge, "In “Search of Truth.” Using feminist hacking strategies as a top-down methodological ground, informed by Post Humanism and New Materialism theories and practices, we rose to the challenge of collaborating, discussing, brainstorming, analysing, creating, imagining, speculating, dreaming, and inventing alternative interfaces to unravel and demystify our perceptions of truth.

Milanote board for Erik, Stephanie, and Marlys' collaborative project.

In the first three weeks we had six intensive group sessions, each focusing on a particular problem and perspective regarding the main topic, "In Search of Truth.” In session 0, we reviewed codes of conduct and focused on methods and strategies in tackling the theme — we discussed hacking as well as critical and diffractive thinking as possible ways to unravel our perceptions of truth.

In Session 1, we attempted at “Touching the Truth” by asking ourselves, “What to believe?” and “What do I wish to be true?” We accomplished this mission by examining and questioning models of machines that were designed with the purpose of leading users to a certain belief and understanding of truth. Starting with the idea that any search for truth is prompted by a desire for change, we searched for open source tools that might be useful in empowering our wishes. This challenge was our launching pad into practice mode, which was followed by a couple hours of hands-on work to physically build a “touch” sensor made of recycled material.

Zoom screenshot of an Impact Art AT workshop session.

Session 2 was devoted to the idea of “Demystifying What is True,” with a particular gaze at the truth behind new technologies. Using a more phenomenological approach, we bounced between individual and common situations, from human to non-human perspectives, and back to one of the matters that might establish common ground: water. Hovering on feminist hacking ground, we discussed the importance of caring in re-thinking and repairing the world. The discussion led us to make a DIY electronic circuit that, with the help of an Arduino microcontroller, enabled us to listen to the electricity in each other's bodies.

Session 3, with the title “Touch/Pinch to Believe,” led us to the core of perception and its relevance to the individual and/or collective conception of truth. By looking into the complexities of the proprioception system, we recognised the importance of touch and haptic stimuli in differentiating reality from virtuality. With the use of microcontrollers and vibration motors, we attempted to touch each other, if only virtually.

Zoom screenshot that is screensharing boxes that show Arduino code; there are 5 windows to the right showing participants' faces.

In Session 4, we speculated on truth, thinking outside the box, brainstorming on apparatuses for the future, and ways of expanding interfaces that might be helpful in hacking our perceptions of truth.

In session 5, participants presented their project ideas and feedback to each other. I want to highlight the solidarity and mutual help between the participating artists. At the end of the session, we made sure that everybody was in contact and organised a mutual help-and-assistance network. It was extraordinary for me to observe that even despite the physical distance, participants were able to reach out and empower each other. At this point, by observing the common and safer space we established together, I started to shift my attention from focusing on the final result to the collective effort, mutual support, and work-in-process mentality employed by the participants. What a joyful and rewarding moment!

Not even two weeks had passed and participants were already “ready” to document and present their projects. Together with the amazing web-designer Maya Hilbert, we set the stage to showcase participant projects — the virtual exhibition. Maya Holm and Shamsher Virk joined our working forces and organised the documentation of the projects as well as the text review. Again, another very good example of a successful collective effort. A super-mega-thanks for everybody's support!!!

The live showcase event took place on October 9th and was marked by the presence of panelists Dasha Ortenberg, Rashin Fahandej, and Vanessa Chang, who kindly offered feedback to the exchange artists. Their contribution was central and crucial: along with very positive feedback, they tackled some sensitive points that were not perceived before and brought new perspectives that had not yet been considered. We were all very grateful and honoured by their participation in the event.

Zoom screenshot from the Impact Art AT showcase.

The new media art works-in-progress displayed in the exhibition "In Search for Truth" are statements and essays on how truth is perceived differently within multiple distinct contexts and points of view. A common theme is the wish to unravel the truth by enveloping otherness — whether that is through the self-other or collective-other — which is an aspect that emerged from the deep solidarity within the group. The exhibition expresses a collective concern towards an excessive trust, dependency, and reliance on new technologies in the digital age, either by tackling some of its troubles — such as the digital self, artificial intelligence and mobile tracking — or by speculating on "true" presents and futures. Either way, we confirmed the impossibility of a one-and-only reality, and with that, the urgent need to constantly re-situate ourselves and become aware of the other side of “truth.”

I feel very honoured for the opportunity to work with these talented artists and for being able to follow their process until this stage. Many thanks and congratulations to Stephanie, Jenny, Sharmi, Erik, Marlys, Avital, and Parul!

I would also like to thank Maya Holm and Shamsher Virk for their amazing guidance and support during this journey. I sincerely wish that we keep on searching for the truth together, perhaps in other exciting future projects.

 


 

Screenshot of the In Search of Truth virtual exhibition homepage. Screenshot of Parul Wadhwa’s “Neal Stephenson’s Metaverse” page on the In Search of Truth virtual exhibition site. Screenshot of Sharmi Basu’s “Self-Investigations #0” page on the In Search of Truth virtual exhibition site. Screenshot of Jenny E. Balisle’s “HOST BODIES” page on the In Search of Truth virtual exhibition site. Screenshot of Erik Contreras, Stephanie Andrews, and Marlys Mandaville’s “Post-Industrial Ecology” page on the In Search of Truth virtual exhibition site. Screenshot of Avital Meshi's "Structures of Emotion" page on the In Search of Truth virtual exhibition site.

How can a “true conception of reality” be established contemporaneously, and how does it influence us as individuals and as a collective? Is our truth an individual perception or a common belief constructed by the masses? How does truth affect where we are and the way we care for each other (as humans and non-humans)? Is unraveling the truth a way to trigger social change? What makes us wish for change and what are we able to change on our own? Which personal tools or senses do we resort to in order to distinguish truth from falsity? Will the pursuit of truth emancipate us? Ultimately, can technology be an asset in the pursuit and repair of truth, even if used within fictional scenarios? 

These are just some of the questions I look forward to discussing and elaborating on with some amazing Bay Area participants during the upcoming four-week online exchange. The workshops will surely challenge us to collaboratively dialogue, brainstorm, analyse, create, invent, imagine, dream, and speculate on alternative interfaces as tool kits to unravel and demystify complex systems (such as the perception of truth). These questions will also help to position us critically towards what has changed, what is changing, and what can be changed in that regard.

Since 2006, I have been teaching and offering hands-on workshops on media art, inspired particularly by the idea of demystifying and "demythifying" the apparatus. My practice is grounded in hacking philosophy and along with many other post-internet artists, I have a lot of fun with subverting the system, reverse engineering, hacking creative processes, defending access, and openismus. One of my main topics of interest is interactive haptic visuality. In my artistic practice, I seek to subvert visuality as a primary mode of experience, playing with technology as a means to expand and stimulate corporeal perceptions.

I also feel very privileged to be part of a feminist hacking community based in Vienna, Austria — Mz* Baltazar’s Laboratory. With the folks in this Hackerspace, I have learned to break with feminine gender scripts, transgress gender norms, and embrace technological challenges through feminist lenses. Feminist hacking is about fostering a culture of fearless making, activism, and provocative thinking from a queer, non-binary, and female* perspective. I believe that these are very strong and necessary tools for individual and collective emancipation that will guide us through this cultural and social international exchange. I am looking forward to learning and hearing from all the participants and hopefully, with a feminist touch, touching some of the truths we wish to unravel.

We will keep in touch! 

Patrícia

 


 

Feature image credit: Patrícia J. Reis, The Wishing Machine Project (2016). Still frame from dual-channel video installation. Still courtesy of Patrícia J. Reis.

Creative Impact Lab Cairo (2021) converged an interdisciplinary group of 18 Egypt-based visual artists, sound artists, performance artists, film and media artists, designers, writers, and scholars to address the issue of women’s empowerment in Egypt. On what is hopefully the tail end of the COVID-19 global pandemic, the lab was conducted entirely virtually. Despite our distance, I’ve found it truly remarkable how our group forged an intimate and intensive pocket of time together. I’m amazed by how much ground we covered in just a few short weeks. 

 

Screenshot of a video. There is a man and woman side-by-side from the shoulders up. Their faces have a ceramic, haunting quality.
Body Talk by Dina Jereidini & Zeina Raafat (2021). Image courtesy of the artists.

 

During the first half of the lab, I had the privilege of leading this group in a series of activities spanning five workshop days. Riffing on the theme of “backups” which I introduced in an artist talk that kicked off the lab, our first four workshop days were aimed at generating content to seed a community media library shared by the group and were organized around four themes. Day by day, our themes were “Time machine backups” (including the concept of “forking” in open source software development and the metaphor of “backstops” in a time capsule free write); “Backpacks” (including an introduction to object-oriented feminist analysis and collectively live-translating Ursula K. Le Guin’s “The Carrier Bag Theory of Fiction”); “Backchannels” (delving directly into the question of what can and can’t be “said” about women’s empowerment and including discussions of secret messages and security protocols for communication); and “Back-to-back media” (including considering the affordances of B-sides and multiple-sided media). Our activities spanned sharing a Zoom dinner, filling and swapping bags, open discussion forums, whiteboard brainstorm sessions, silent COLO sessions, active listening, meditative gift giving, guided free writes, and peer-to-peer skillshares. 

 

GIF of assorted illustrations of kitchen and food items with Arabic labels next to each of them.
Flour and Fury: How to Make an Egyptian Feminist by Basma Ahmed & Mariam Ibrahim (2021). Image courtesy of the artists.

Screenshot of two side-by-side videos. The one on the left shows hands pouring soil into a pot with a small tree in it. The one on the right shows alt text of the video on the left using white text on a black background.

Two of the activities that made the biggest impression on me were the collaborative real-time translation of Le Guin’s “The Carrier Bag Theory of Fiction” and our group discussion “Broadcasts and Backchannels” about what can and can’t be said about women’s empowerment in Egypt. These exercises were extremely different in form and content; yet both revealed to me the formidable collective intelligence that was arising out of this group, and that these exercises were helping to hone. Both exercises highlighted for me the necessity of addressing the social issues at the heart of our lab as fundamentally multifaceted, and underscored the significance of a polyvocal approach to speaking to these issues as such in order to do justice to the complex intersectional realities of Egyptian cultural experience. For every argument raised, there is another side to consider. And for every strong statement voiced righteously, there is another—perhaps softer—voice simultaneously yearning to be heard.Screenshot of two side-by-side videos. The one on the left shows hands pouring soil into a pot with a small tree in it. The one on the right shows alt text of the video on the left using white text on a black background.

 

Screenshot of a selfie video of a man with an AR filter of aviator sunglasses and a beard. Closed captioning reads in both Arabic and English, "or any other man in your family will set you straight."
Talk as if you are A.R. by Fatma El Zahraa & Habiba Afifi (2021). Image courtesy of the artists.

 

After opening our time capsules at the end of our fourth workshop day, groups started to form around project ideas. On our fifth workshop day, each project was proposed before two guest critics, Elham Khattab of Out of the Circle, and Maya Hilbert of New Media Artspace at Baruch College. With feedback from Elham and Maya, the participants then launched into an intensive 12-day development period during which they created new media art works-in-progress while I curated the proposed works in a virtual exhibition. Drawing on the notion of multi-sidedness, and inspired by our “Back-to-back media” day, I titled the exhibition “Recto & Verso,” referencing a term from book design that refers to the front and back sides of a page. 

 

Screenshot from an animation showing abstracted sibhas or prayer beads in green, blue, and red against a dark green background.
The Fallacy of 33 Terms by Rawan Abbas, Doha Aboelezz, Yara Mekawei (2021). Image courtesy of the artists.

 

The works-in-progress that emerged speak powerfully to this notion. I’ve been floored by the eloquence and intensity of the work that was created during this short time. I invite everyone to visit the virtual exhibition at cil.medrar.org. Like me, I’m sure you will be excited to think about how the projects that were fomented during the lab will soon be taking new shapes and moving forth—from the lab into the world. 

 

Screenshot of two side-by-side videos. The one on the left shows hands pouring soil into a pot with a small tree in it. The one on the right shows alt text of the video on the left using white text on a black background.
The Gender of the Tree Surgeon by Fatma Heiba (2021). Image courtesy of the artist.

 

As I think about leaving the lab behind and moving forth toward the next stages of our journey, I am immensely grateful for the time I’ve spent with this generous group of talented artists. I’m grateful for their hospitality in welcoming me into the fold, for being so forthright and patient in sharing with me in the spirit of cultural exchange, and for trusting me throughout this process. In my view, one of the greatest successes of the lab is that many participants have indicated to me that they felt supported in this process. Thinking toward the future, I hope the lab will live on in these discoveries of forms of mutual support, ongoing artistic collaborations, and lasting community.

 

Feature image credit: Al-Dad by Sara El-Barkouky, Esraa Elfeky, Youssef Abdelmaged, Amany Adel, Ramah Aleryan, Ahmad Aiuby (2021). Image courtesy of the artists.

For over two decades, my interventions in contemporary technoculture have involved opening “black boxes” that proliferate in and around computer culture and challenging cultural assumptions about who participates with emerging technologies. The intersections of gender, race, class, and labor in digital culture (and their contradictions!) are the main subject matter of my work. Likewise, the perspective I bring when I use or critique technoculture and its objects is informed by my own intersectional position as a woman, a multiracial person of color, an artist, a writer, a curator, an educator, and—as this cultural exchange highlights—an American. I am always looking for ways to unpack the realities and identities we take for granted, and to invent and explore alternatives. I approach this process through feminist practices like camaraderie, care, solidarity, sharing, attentive listening, and proactive allyship. 

In this spirit, Creative Impact Lab Cairo will foster conversations and dialogue. I am looking forward to learning about women’s empowerment in an Egyptian context. My learning has already begun. With the insightful and indefatigable Rodeina Fouad, I have just completed the humbling experience of reviewing applications and portfolios from 105 applicants. Grueling as this process was, I’m grateful for the exposure to so many diverse viewpoints and some truly amazing work by Egyptian artists! 

During the first part of the exchange, I will share ways I work across art and theory. In particular, we’ll be putting theory into practice: By approaching technologies as objects, we’ll apply theories my collaborators and I developed in Object-Oriented Feminism (University of Minnesota Press, 2016). At the same time, we’ll be putting practice into theory: I’ll offer my own practice—specifically, my recent solo exhibition Backups (Mazmanian Gallery, 2019)—as a starting place to reverse-engineer principles of women’s empowerment via digital art. Drawing on Backups, we’ll use touchstones like backing up (as time travel or as forking in tech R&D), backups (as digital archives or feminist comrades), backpacks (as crucibles for women’s narratives and counter histories à la Ursula K. Le Guin’s “The Carrier Bag Theory of Fiction,” 1986), and backchannels (as secure communication protocols for fostering women’s empowerment and sharing women’s stories). Participants will be invited to explore and develop these in their own projects during the second part of the exchange.

While spinning off Backups and various formations of “backs,” I couldn’t help but think of the canonical American feminist anthology, This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color, now in its fourth printing (edited by Cherríe Moraga and Gloria Anzaldúa, SUNY Press, 2015). Having managed to locate a copy at a local bookstore, I collected a bag bearing my name in pink magic marker from curbside pick-up and opened it still in the car. The first word on the first page of “Catching Fire,” Cherríe Moraga’s preface to the Fourth Edition, made me catch my breath: “Egypt.” Recalling the excitement that she felt watching news reports about the actions at Tahrir Square, Moraga situates feminist revolution as a shared experience of solidarity in-common. She writes, “To view the world today through a feminist of color lens shatters all barriers of state-imposed nationality,” (Moraga, xvi). I take this as a fortuitous omen and am full of anticipation for the work we will do together in the coming weeks.

Image credit: Curbside pick-up of This Bridge Called My Back (left) and a positive omen in the preface to the Fourth Edition (right). Photos by Katherine Behar.

Over the past half century, the Grand Theater on Mission Street has been home to a cinema, a dollar store, and now an eclectic creative community of media makers. This group of artists and producers has assembled around Gray Area’s revitalization of this historic Mission District building. As an invitation to join this creative community, Crowbar Corner, Gray Area, and ZERO1 have teamed up to launch the Grand Creative Resource Library — a lending library offering the tools needed to make your own media art.

Paired with access to workshops, labs, incubators, and events produced by the contributing partners, this collective resource will eliminate barriers to creation at the forefront of art and technology. Our shared vision is to put creative power into the hands of fellow community members who want to express themselves in innovative new ways, regardless of the resources they may have available to them. Bridging the digital divide begins with a sharing of resources and skills. The network formed through this simple reciprocity will bind the creative community we build together.

The Library launches on May 19, 2021 with an initial focus on tools to create electronic music and sound art. Thanks to a generous donation of unique analog synthesizer equipment by New Systems Instruments, Mr. Bill, Shawn Allen, and Ryan Smith from Crowbar Corner studio, paired with MacBook Pros and iPads loaded with Ableton Live, VCV Rack, and other production software, we will be making available portable, self-contained, sound studios.

Borrowers from the Grand Creative Resource Library will receive a basic orientation to the equipment they check out. They will then be given priority access to active workshops in the Grand Theater community that employ these tools. We are proud to offer resources to sustain and advance an inclusive creative community. The Grand Creative Resource Library prioritizes opportunities for students and creators from diverse backgrounds that are underrepresented in the fields of art, music, and technology.

Those interested in borrowing our equipment to realize their sonic dreams can access the request form on the Grand Creative Resource Library page.

The Grand Creative Resource Library is a collaboration between Crowbar Corner, Gray Area, and ZERO1.


About Crowbar Corner

Crowbar Corner is an electronic music production studio with a unique collection of instruments both vintage and modern, high end monitoring and I/O.  It has been the laboratory for acclaimed electronic music releases as well as cutting edge sound art and large scale performances at the Gray Area Theatre. Members: Ryan Smith, Marc Kate, Jacob Sperber. https://grayarea.org/create/crowbar-corner/

About Gray Area

Gray Area is San Francisco's premier cultural hub catalyzing creative action for social transformation – applying antidisciplinary practice towards some of the most complex challenges facing our world. Gray Area’s mission is to apply art and technology to create social and civic impact through education, incubation and public events. www.grayarea.org

About ZERO1

ZERO1 is a nonprofit arts organization that addresses complex social challenges by producing community driven emerging media and digital art projects. We believe that artistic experimentation with emerging technologies inspires novel creative strategies and broaden our critical understanding of the world. Through a global network of partners, we bridge governmental, academic, corporate, and cultural worlds to build engaged and vibrant communities that drive social action. www.zero1.org

The Music Concourse in San Francisco's Golden Gate Park comes alive with a Saturday crowd — people lining up for the SkyStar Observation Wheel, out for a stroll through the Japanese Tea Garden, biking past on their way to Ocean Beach. Amidst the bustle on a sunny day in early April, several people can be seen standing notably still, pointing their phones towards the statues and monuments distributed around the courtyard. Mimicking the poise of the statues before them, these stoic figures looked inquisitively at the screens in their hands, scanning their surroundings with concentration and curiosity.

The mysterious sights and sounds captivating these observers are the artistic interventions of seven local artists who had crafted augmented reality (AR) artworks responding to a selection of public monuments in the Music Concourse. These interventions were created during ZERO1’s Marble and Media: Digital Activations of Public Memory, a six-week laboratory led by artists Cheyenne Concepcion and Camila Magrane that culminated in the creation of an AR walking tour. The lab endeavored to provoke thought and encourage reflection on the role of monuments as venerated objects of public memory.

Screenshot of a slide titled "Marble and Media Workshop" with an image of a figure pointing their phone at 5 layers of images, and another view of that same image from head-on so one can see the superimposed layers.

Images courtesy of Cheyenne Conecpion.

In recent years, heated national discourse around monuments has sparked a collective assessment of our shared history. Public outcry demanding the removal of statues honoring racist Confederate generals has grown into a broader national reckoning with celebrated figures who, at worst, represent oppression across American history, and at best, represent only a part of the story.

During the summer of 2020, in the wake of the police killing of George Floyd, as an uprising for racial justice swept across the country, the Music Concourse became a site of righteous protest. Activists gathered to remove the statues of Francis Scott Key, Ulysses S. Grant, and Junipero Serra for their complicity with the racist practices of their day. Key owned slaves, Grant inherited a slave (who he then freed, it should be noted), while Serra forced conversions and banned indigenous cultural practices. These three figures (all white men) are just a sampling of the characters who populate our official public memory, each requiring nuanced evaluation to understand the role they played in our history. With these statues now gone, we’re prompted to imagine — what might take their place? And what are we to make of the rest of our monuments, even those that were untouched by last year’s protests?

At ZERO1, we propose that artists have an important role to play in this reimagining. The prototyped artworks from Marble and Media surface untold stories about the park itself, and give deeper meaning to the figures represented by these revered objects in metal and stone. They ask us to drop in and feel out a sense of place in space and time. The heavily-irrigated bit of landscaping that is Golden Gate Park, located on a strip of land that was once sand dunes stewarded by the Ohlone people, and known in the 19th century as the “Outside Lands,” becomes a stage for the telling of our many shared stories.

Several works draw our attention to the natural world and a time before the arrival of European settlers. Jeff Enlow’s American Bison reproduces the over-hunted majestic beast of the plains as a reminder of its near extinction by settlers and current restoration by indigenous nations. We are introduced to several plant and animal heroes of natural history in Mae Ross’ This Land before it was “Found,” honoring the pre-colonial beings who inhabited this place long before settlers arrived.

Collage work featuring Junipero Serra (left) and native flora and bison (right).

Collage work by Paola de la Calle (left) and Jeff Enlow (right).

Through the artists’ eyes, we are invited to see the familiar anew. With Verdi, Shrouded, Kim Nucci animates the Guiseppi Verdi monument with sound emphasizing the monument’s connection to Italian nationalist history and the forcible relocation of Italians during WWII. Hannah Scott proposes a Speculative History that captures multiple layers of truth by overlaying a matrix of contextual knowledge upon the statue of General Pershing. Paola de la Calle reclaims the pedestal where Junipero Serra once stood as a Monument to the Movement that has demanded reconsideration of problematic historic “heroes.” And with Plant Your Seeds, Hena Muttreja fittingly honors John McLaren, known for his dislike of monuments, by obscuring his bronze form with the thing he loved most, plants.

Still images from 3 augmented reality pieces.

Video stills from demo videos of augmented reality pieces by Hena Muttreja, Hannah Scott, and Mae Ross (left to right).

Creative response to the architecture of dominant culture can also release the tension built into these structures, opening up a space for reinvention. Caleb Lightfoot’s Schema for a Post-Historical Monument deconstructs the neoclassical pedestal and columns that once held the figure of Francis Scott Key and suspends the component parts for examination in an act of critical archeology.

Sketches from Caleb Lightfoot's AR artwork, "Schema for a Post-Historical Monument"

Sketches by Caleb Lightfoot.

The tool of AR is particularly well-suited to these experiments in public space. While the technology remains somewhat glitchy and sometimes inaccessible, its potential was on full display during the Marble and Media AR Walking Tour. As the name suggests, it can augment what already exists in our physical world by adding a layer of image or sound. It can make an ephemeral mark on the world that literally disappears when you want it gone. It provides a canvas for experimentation, perhaps to aid planning towards the eventual construction of a permanent structure. AR is a tool for transforming a place without leaving a trace.

While the San Francisco Arts Commission conducts a review of monuments in the City collection and convenes a Monuments and Memorials Advisory Committee, an official process that will take well over a year, there is a timely opportunity for artists to enrich the discourse and expand our thinking around memorialization right now. The artists of Marble and Media heeded that call, and we hope many more will follow.


Marble and Media: Digital Activations of Public Memory is a ZERO1 creative laboratory co-led by artists Cheyenne Concepcion and Camila Magrane in collaboration with New Monuments Taskforce and emerging artists from across the Bay Area which utilizes new media to explore monuments and memorialization in public space.

Header image is a remix of "Golden Gate Park, Music Concourse" by Michael Estigoy, used under CC BY-NC 2.0.

Open house for “Lima 2100: Collective Resilience through Adaptive Urbanism” in the virtual Museo de Arte Contemporáneo (MAC Lima) gallery, created and curated by Gabriel Kaprielian exhibiting work of American Arts Incubator — Peru artists (2020).

It’s been a little over a month since the American Arts Incubator — Peru (AAI Peru) program was completed. Reflecting back on the month-long exchange, the global pandemic and virtual format did not dampen the enthusiasm and brilliance of the participating artists. Instead, it challenged us to adapt and respond to the moment, framed by the past, while projecting onto the future. Meaningful connections were made, ideas and knowledge were shared, and amazing new artwork was created. By all accounts, the program was a huge success! Thanks to the dedication of many wonderful people that made this possible.

“Psycho-geographic Mapping of Lima,” by AAI Peru artists (2020).

I led four workshops that introduced technology platforms, theoretical frameworks, encouraged discussion, and led to short exercises applying these tools with artists' ideas. Workshop 1 involved a collective “Psycho-geographic Mapping” of Lima using a virtual whiteboard canvas. In Workshop 2, artists created “Postcards from the Future” that showcased speculative visions of Lima in the year 2100. Workshop 3 introduced tools for digital 3D modeling to create a collaborative “Monument to the Pandemic.” Workshop 4 demonstrated the use of augmented and virtual reality to visualize the artists' work.

“Lima 2100: Postcards from the Future,” by AAI Peru artists (2020).

There were two guest speaker panels that introduced further discussion on the social challenge of urban development in Lima, focusing on the themes of climate change, social equity, and urban health. The first panel was centered around public space and included Dr. Patricia Kim (Monument Lab), Dr. Ghigo DiTommaso (Gehl Architects), and Lucía Nogales (Ocupa tu Calle). The second panel focused on socially-responsive artwork and included Nicolas Gomez Echeverri (MAC Lima), Natalija Boljsakov (UTEC), Ferran Gisbert (UTEC), and Kiko Mayorga (UTEC).

“Monument to the Pandemic,” augmented reality digital models by AAI Peru artists (2020).

For the last ten days of the program, each artist created new artwork responding to the theme, “Lima 2100 – Collective Resilience through Adaptive Urbanism.” These works took the form of 2D collage, audio and video, and digital 3D forms. I was amazed by the creativity and thoughtfulness of each project and the passion each artist demonstrated in developing their work in such a short amount of time.

Artists presented their artworks and concepts to a guest panel where they received outside feedback. The final exhibition was originally planned to take place in the Museo de Arte Contemporáneo (MAC Lima). Instead, we created a virtual reality gallery in Mozilla Hubs of MAC Lima with a curated exhibition of each artist’s work. This was the first time we were able to gather in the same "room," walking around and chatting, viewing the artwork as a collective project.

Virtual gallery open house screenshot with artwork by Lucero Jacobo Guerrero and Cristina Ocampo Acuña (2020).

I want to give a big thank you to all of the participating artists, our partners in Lima including UTEC, MAC Lima, and the U.S. Embassy, as well as our guest speakers and panelists. This program has introduced new ideas and understanding in my creative practice and expanded my ecosystem of collaborators. I am grateful for the opportunity to have taken part in AAI Peru.

Since the tragic killing of George Floyd on May 25, our staff have been in deep listening mode — thinking and discussing internally how to most effectively act in solidarity with the Movement for Black Lives in the pursuit of racial justice.

We continue to mourn the incessant violence enacted by police on the unarmed bodies of black citizens such as Breonna Taylor, Tony McDade, Rayshard Brooks and so many more. As our collective resistance grows, we are witness to the tactics of intimidation, escalation, and excessive force used by agents of the state against protesters. The broader systemic failure of these publicly funded agencies, allegedly tasked to serve and protect, is being laid bare.

We affirm that there will be no justice in this country until we acknowledge that all black lives matter and we begin to reshape our institutions in support of that belief. The scope of policing must be reduced, while the reach of social services, health care, education, and cultural activities must grow. The coming reinvestment in communities will require a critical anti-racist approach, if we are to move together towards justice.

As a nonprofit organization at the intersection of art, science, and technology, we acknowledge that the nonprofit industrial complex, the arts sector, the production of scientific knowledge, and the development of technological innovation are all embedded within oppressive systems that have perpetuated white supremacy. As an historically white-led institution, we carry a legacy of privilege that must be examined, unpacked, and reorganized in order to move forward in service of equity and justice. Working with media artists who are experimenting with emerging technologies and new tools, our work is fraught with technological fetishism and obsession with novelty. With our gaze oriented towards the future, we can either blindly pursue creative innovation in service of inequitable resource accumulation, or we can choose to apply our creativity to reimagine a more just, inclusive world. Our call to action is clear.

We have begun a strategic planning process that will provide a framework for change in our organization, taking into account contemporary conditions: the growing momentum of the movement for racial equity in our home communities and the localization of activity due to the pandemic. As we embark on this work, we commit to the following actions:

Internal Actions

  • Address anti-blackness within our organization through learning about and implementing anti-oppression principles in board recruitment, hiring, training, program design, partnerships, curation, artist selection, and outreach.
  • Review the historical values of our organization and explicitly articulate our contemporary values, especially those rooted in equity, to guide future strategy.
  • Fund staff to participate in professional development around equity.

External Actions

  • Assess the needs of our communities to the best of our capacity through surveys and stakeholder discussions, specifically seeking feedback from artists and communities of color.
  • Bring the perspective and practices of our international work home with the development of local programming and partnerships.
  • Produce programming that builds skills, wellness, and community among artists engaged in movement work.
  • Leverage our resources and provide a platform for the creative, critical voices of change who are helping us to reimagine a just future.

As members of our community, we rely on your perspective and collective wisdom to guide us in our work. We invite your comments and reflections on the work we have done and the proposed actions above. Please be in touch and share your thoughts so that we may refine our efforts.

In solidarity,

Team ZERO1

Launched in 2018, Amplify (AAI Amplify) is a 10-day professional development experience for emerging socially-engaged new media artists who participated in an American Arts Incubator in their home country. Selected participants travel to San Francisco to learn new skills to advance their artistic practice, engage with an American artist or creative technologist as a peer mentor, share work at a public event, and experience the cultural and creative sectors of the Bay Area.

Over the past few years, participants have spoken on a panel at the Gray Area Festival, engaged in an academic symposium led by the Cristóbal Martínez, Department Chair of Art & Technology at San Francisco Art Institute, learned from workshops by guest presenters ranging from Anti-Eviction Mapping Project to artist Niki Selken, and visited Autodesk Pier 9, among many other activities.


 

 

" I am so honored to be part of AAI programme by ZERO1 where I felt so free to express my feelings and identity without judgement.

Art has a new language in the new era of social connectivity, technology and in terms of how we create it. AAI helped me to find new ways to tell and adapt my stories."

— Ahmet Rüstem Ekici

 

 

 

Read reflections from all Amplify 2019 participants in this blog post >>


 

Reflections on AAI — Amplify 2019

2019 participants (from left to right):

  • Eloy Monter Hernández (Mexico)
  • Minju Do (South Korea)
  • Reginald Nkululeko Sedibe (South Africa)
  • Ahmet Rüstem Ekici (Turkey)
  • Rashana Bajracharya (Nepal)
 

2018 participants (from left to right):

 

  • Aparna Ayyanad (India)
  • Loubna El Ghallab (Morocco)
  • Nawojka Gurczynska (Poland)
  • Irina Kostyshina (Ukraine)
  • María Belén Arellano (Ecuador)

 

by João Henrique Motta (photographer, trained journalist and artist-in-the-making via AAI Brazil)

*Leia a postagem do blog em português / Read the blog in Portuguese

On the night of Thursday, March 12, 2020, American artist Santiago X exhibited a video of his piece, "ATICINTOLOCA: Man and The Black Snake” to a full auditorium at the Banco do Brasil Cultural Center in Belo Horizonte (CCBB BH). The performance of the indigenous-futurist artist, born to the Kossati and Chamoru nations, recreated the experience of the formation of mountains from a projection of contour lines in mixed reality: the digital and the physical.  We immediately identified with the topography as inhabitants of a country full of mountains.

Santiago X, or Santi, was the mentor who guided about 20 Brazilian artists, gathered in Belo Horizonte, to participate in the international digital arts exchange program, American Arts Incubator - Brazil (AAI). It was Santi's first time in Brazil, and the residency experience was divided into two parts by an unexpected historical moment of our century: the dawn of the new coronavirus pandemic.

The work that Santiago presented to us during that meeting was a reference to the myth of the creation of the mountains in the territory of his people. As he used his hands to move mounds of sand inside a box, a projection drew new landscapes, adding peaks, depressions, plains and mountains. The green, blue, red and yellow, colors characteristic of this type of map, colored the image throughout the time that he stirred his work. It was possible to perceive, then, the importance of the element "earth" within the artist's work. A westernized conception could certainly be limited to the geological characteristics of the soil. But in the eyes of those who have a deeper relationship with the nature of a place and the land itself, it was impressive to witness the materialization of a worldview being activated by means of technological devices.

At the time, I remember asking Santiago about when or how he incorporated the term “indigenous futurism” into his work, and he said something along the lines of: “My relationship with futurism is to rescue the connection with my land (earth) and with the knowledge of my ancestors, to tell our stories from art. I continue to tell stories about the life and memory of my people, also in augmented reality.”

In his production, the artist uses multiple platforms to bring ideas to life and to establish connections with other people. It was not by chance, that same night, that the presence of a group of students from the UFMG Landscaping course contributed to a very genuine approach to the occasion: to know and hear Santiago's words. I also needed to hear it and get to know it. It was beautiful, and there I felt that the residence would be a fertile experience to question almost everything.

After the opening of AAI, some people went to a bar near the cultural center to celebrate the opening.  Sandro (Santiago X’s assistant), some production professionals and a group of participants, among them the architects Roberta Silvestre, Kyvia Salles and myself. We didn't know it yet, but we would later form a working group together - Group 4. 

Together, we toasted, drank and ate.

THE FIRST PART

The first meeting with all the workshop participants took place the following weekend. First, we introduced ourselves and shared the objects we wanted to create in a world of immersive reality. It was intense.

We then took the first steps with the tools we would use to create group installations for an exhibition in one of the rooms at CCBB BH. A discussion on the concept of “reality” introduced the points of focus that we should consider in our future work: economic inequality and protection of the environment.

In the last five years alone, the territory of Minas Gerais has suffered two of the most serious environmental crimes in the world: the rupture of the Samarco and Vale dams, which destroyed many lives in Bento Rodrigues and Brumadinho, generating consecutive tragedies and successive violations of life for families and entire cities.

However, the Friday after the first weekend of workshops, Belo Horizonte joined the long list of cities in the world in which city officials decreed the closure of commerce and instructed people to stay at home, following health recommendations from experts.

At first, the conversation was about washing your hands. With the interruption of the activities of the CCBB, American Arts Incubator was postponed.

THE WORLD IN QUARANTINE

In Italy, there were 700 deaths a day. Almost a thousand people per day, dying in a country where all the civilizing myths of the political, economic and health systems seemed to have stuck to reason. But not everything is as it seems. Then, the British prime minister, who had been a denialist regarding the global transmission of the disease, contracted COVID-19.

Closing borders, closing establishments, closing houses. The world was emptying, and the European continent was the new epicenter of the disease. The material world had been contaminated. And the pandemic, following its natural course, started plaguing our continent: South America.

I called my friends. For a long time, I will remember that day. And also those solitary numbers. 15 dead. It was Saturday. After a few days, the scenario of the pandemic would be like that of a horror movie: cemeteries full of people wearing plastic paraphernalia to contain the transmission of the virus.

Those who could, stayed at home. Some still left. Others insisted on promoting gatherings. Most still needed to buy food, and for that, they needed to be out. Not everyone could protect themselves from this violent wave.

Are we still in shock? Or did we get used to the shock? Did it already pass? What is happening? Deaths increased and continue to increase.

How did we possibly get here? Did we make mistakes? We must have. How do we fix them? Here below the Equator, imagining any possibility of the future is flirting with the surreal.

 "Where did we come from? Where are we going? Do these questions matter now?”

This is the initial message of "HABITAR (DWELL)," a collective work that results from a collaboration between the architects Roberta Silvestre and Kyvia Salles, and me, João Henrique Motta, a journalist. The provocations of the work seek to offer questions about reality - and also about the possibility of creating futures.

The collective experience we shared was guided by a very particular process of matching ideas between the group. We listened, stopped, talked and decided together on what to create. From analyzing how our skills complemented each other, we reached a consensus and finally began utilizing visual and digital tools, as well as developing concepts and narratives.

When JA.CA communicated by e-mail about the possibility of restarting the residency, now in a virtual way, respecting sanitary rules and preventing crowding, that was reason enough to cheer us up in a quarantine full of uncertainties, and also infinite possibilities to stimulate artistic thinking.

Focusing on the themes that would be part of this experience, economic inequality and environmentalism, allowed us to consolidate aspects that united the propositional and narrative interests of our large group. Valuing the protection of nature and telling the stories of its guardians was one of the fires that brought us together to tell stories, ask questions and imagine futures.

Mining is undoubtedly a scar that for years has made this land bleed, year after year, in an exploitative regime that depletes mountains, forests and rivers, terrorizes cities and interferes with the way of life of so many people. And impunity makes our reality even more cruel. This exploitation would be at the center of our criticism. Brumadinho and Bento Rodrigues can never be forgotten.

Other environmental crimes that have successively occurred in recent months have also added to our chorus of warnings: criminal fires from north to south, tons of oil off the coast of the Northeast, invasion of indigenous lands by illegal mining, floods and landslides in the cities. In addition, we have a state authority that arms itself and declares an explicit war on alternative lifestyles to hegemonic capitalism, as I will discuss later.

Defending the environment is defending the constellations of ways of life and the stories that make up our trajectory: the indigenous peoples of Brazil, the black population, the poor population, the traditional communities — everyone who lives on the margins of “humanity.” Respecting these stories is fundamental to the message we seek to learn and convey.

In early May, we met again on the Zoom platform. Santiago in Chicago, and us in Belo Horizonte. Later, we met with panelist João Souza, creator of the NGO Favela, to comment on the exhibition resulting from the residency, aiming to continue the group activities. That was one of the most vital points of this process: an opportunity to dialogue with someone who encouraged us to further sharpen the critical dimension of our projects and helped us look directly into the eyes of the inequalities that make up Brazil's economic and political structures.

Finally, Santiago X decided that the virtual exhibition of the AAI would be called "PORTAL."

UNLOCKING

“Natural resources for what? Sustainable development for whom?” asks Ailton Krenak, in the book, Ideas to postpone the end of the world (Companhia das Letras, 2019).

Save what, if the land gives us everything? How can there be a lack, if the forest is the symbol of abundance and diversity? For the indigenous peoples of Brazil, ancestral territory is sacred. Nature is the greatest wealth, and it cannot be violated for the advantage of the violent.

"HABITAR (DWELL)" is based on a poetic reading of the books of the writer, activist, indigenous leader and one of the founders of the Union of Indigenous Nations (UNI), Ailton Krenak, and also of the poem "Triste Horizonte" (1976) by Carlos Drummond de Andrade (1902-1987). This work was created with architectural tools, digital modeling, music, soundscapes, poetry, literature, photography, 360º videos and other virtual reality technologies.

Freely interpreted, Krenak's words echo in our work, allowing us to imagine realities, mix cosmos and materialize our dreams in the virtual world. The author emerged as a common reference to all participants in the AAI residency program, both because of the revolutionary power of his ideas towards the decolonization of the gaze as well as the combativeness inherent in his words.

Our concern, then, starts to be deconstructed to the same extent that we approach art from the advice of Santiago and Krenak. Santiago pointed out two fundamental points for thinking about our worlds: "abstracting" and "healing." It was these terms that drove us and allowed us to have such honest exchanges about expectations around our work.

The forest is a gift from our ancestors, who planted it as a garden. It is not, therefore, a random cosmic phenomenon, dependent on something like the alignment of the stars and the expansion of matter, but rather on the historical action of human groups in tune with the entities that live there. These and other indigenous wisdoms have expanded our imagination for this work.

Working with a digital platform of scenic architecture and scene description, while still having the possibility of conducting experiences of other natures, filled us with a feeling inherent in artistic enjoyment: inventing. And we invented everything: first, paper; then, the cards, the photos, the collages and the slides.

A continent plagued by environmental problems, an empty city, but still noisy. A world in the process of reforestation and a community in celebration. Everything perfectly transfigured for the virtual atmosphere, for the internet.

VIRTUAL RECREATION

It all happened by combining the skills and reflections of three young artists from Minas Gerais who borrowed the words and ideas of others, among them classical and contemporary thinkers.

When we imagined the experience, placing the work in a virtual reality universe like Mozilla Hubs (which at the time we knew little about), we believed anything would be possible. We imagined worlds that would have videos as a ceiling, 360º footage as satellites, poetry echoing in space, and nature continuing to provide life in the environments. A biological and spiritual experience of reforestation. And this is what "HABITAR" became.

That would be our contemplation for a world that seeks healing. This was the genesis envisioned by three artists from Belo Horizonte: a world that interconnects different pasts, presents and futures. 

KNENAK MEANS “HEAD OF THE EARTH”

Mr. Ailton is a political and revolutionary leader, who at different times in his life, actively participated in the consolidation of the political and subjective rights of indigenous nations in Brazil. In his most recent books, he talked about his land, near the Rio Doce ("Watu") and about dreams.

Along with “his generation,” he was one of the founders of the Union of Indigenous Nations (UNI) in 1979. Created from the union of several activists, the organization has been responsible for the unification of the struggles of indigenous peoples who have been fighting colonization since 1500. He also participated in the Alliance of the Peoples of the Forest, in 1987, alongside Chico Mendes, activist, rubber tapper and protector of the Amazon Forest. Both Mendes and Krenak are Brazilians who inspire the work of other activists around the world.

The extractive period idealized in the years leading up to the debates on the rights and guarantees of the peoples of the forests would be a solution against the landowning capital that destroyed and destroys the Amazon. Hundreds of families of rubber tappers gave up hectares, “plots” of land in the Amazon biome in order to take care of the tropical forest, joining the struggle of indigenous peoples for the protection of their sacred territories.

For the world of CPFs (Natural Persons Register) and CNPJs (National Registry of Legal Entities), what was at stake was the autonomy of the constitutional law on land. After all, if a certain right is in the Constitution, it needs to be guaranteed. But there is no word in Portuguese or Federal Law that translates an individual's relationship with his birthplace, with the meaning it has for an indigenous person or for a rubber tapper like Chico Mendes. The self-protection of forests by the communities that resist there, creating opportunities where humans respect all other beings, living in balance, is also an experience that we try to express in our work. Chico Mendes was murdered in his backyard within a year in which the new constitutional laws of “redemocratization” were starting to be debated. The legacy of his struggle lives in the daily life of exploited communities and among his companions.

What has happened, in practice, is that the Brazilian State has committed itself to giving total individual and collective protection to the indigenous territories, as well as promising the demarcations soon after. They also promised the same nations things that no other westernized nation can guarantee to the other: peace. Something white folks promise. Indigenous peoples were considered Brazilian and their rights and guarantees would be protected by law - for the first time since the invasion of their territories. As usual, these achievements and milestones remain on the alert, resisting the destructive power of capital. More than ever, the state is declaring a war against nature. The difference is that today, in the head of the (anti) Minister of the Environment, this is the final battle. "A land where nothing can be sold":

These ways of life, propositions of universes and alliances, are political experiences of resistance in our territory that also helped us to imagine the expressions proposed in "HABITAR." According to the photographer and ethnographer Edgar Kanaykó, from the Xacriabá nation, it would be necessary to “indigenize the screens,” “indigenize the knowledge production processes.” In his view, this would be a process that comes from the inside out, from increasingly powerful subjectivities, forming a more powerful collective. As we respect the complexities of these constellations of subjectivities, sharing respect and cultivating care becomes easier.

INVASION

The racial issues unresolved by Brazil and the USA are the reasons for our problems, deficiencies and inequalities. For centuries, the proclamation of whiteness has been a cancer for humans. The assertion of a fictitious superior quality based on skin color is a declaration of war against non-whites. The proclamation of a superiority that decimates entire universes, based on the cruel imposition of a single way of life based on accumulation, competition and the standardization of existence.

Decolonizing is necessary at all borders: in health, education, security and also in the arts. Only then would it be possible to conceive the preservation of diversity as the real meaning of our existences, individual and collective.

We speak of an enemy that has no form, but exercises the power to kill, invade and destroy. Colonialism can be presented in several ways, but perhaps the best way to say it here is to point to structural racism and the distractions that this system creates with the intention of alienating us from the earth, dissociating us as organisms integrated into this planet, to separate us from this possibility of joint existence: on the one hand, humans, on the other, nature. But "everything is nature.”

In Brazil, they are killed with unique impunity. And the non-white population of this "piece" of land for more than 500 years, called America, is killed with unique impunity. In this sense, another reflection that we extract from Krenak is the idea that, if some are treated as second-class citizens, we do not, in fact, form a humanity. Blacks, indigenous people, ciganos, the poor and caiçaras do not enjoy the same “guarantees” as a white person - that is a fact.

Communities that offer us life practices and conceptions of different worlds from the hegemonic system have always been in the crosshairs of colonization. Centuries later, continuing to learn the forms of resistance of these traditional communities should be a political gesture of respect and reverence. Especially in a country where all material relations are the product of enslavement. “Our world” was built on top of indigenous cemeteries and built with the sweat and blood of African peoples, abducted from their ancestral territories.

The experience that our group created corresponds with a universe arranged on a virtual reality platform, in which each participant can visit four different planets and choose, at the end, the one he would like to inhabit. It is an invitation to rethink the past, reflect on the present and imagine the future. Kyvia and Roberta are brilliant architects. They created the old cities of a real world and our inventions.

At this point, we had an idea: the great human mission should be to preserve the knowledge that connects us with life on this planet. But how can we do this if we are not a humanity? If all inequalities point to an unequal humanity? There can be no peace if some are treated as targets.

BELO HORIZONTE AND THE MOUNTAIN

The poem “Triste Horizonte” (“Sorrowful Horizon”) by Carlos Drummond de Andrade is the basis of another narrative configured in the past-future-present. During the coronavirus pandemic period, it is impossible not to approach everything that art offers us in the context of distance, lockdown, isolation, quarantine and such.

The poet's verses were written in 1976, in the city of Rio de Janeiro, where he lived until his death in 1987. According to a report by the artist, the poem was inspired by a news story about security forces that barred climbing and hiking in the Serra do Curral. The sad farewell to Belo Horizonte moves us from the melancholic look at the destruction of the same mountain range by MBR, a mining company that was exploiting the mountain at that time. It is a process that has exhausted the same mountains for decades and, thus, also destroyed a living part of the mining people. From time to time, after all, ore price crises disturb the fullness of our mountains.

Mining has left cruel marks in the country for centuries, and in the last five years, two environmental crimes in Minas Gerais, involving one of the largest companies in the world, have revealed an even more cruel face of successive violations of rights in this type of crime. Environmental crime.

Looking at Belo Horizonte as still provincial, but a “stage of the new arts,” is another interesting point of the same poem. This point connects us to the current moment of cultural profusion in the city, as well as to a generation that seeks the real infusion of diversity in the cultural melting pot of the urban environment. Excerpts from the writer Paulo Eduardo Correa, a key figure in hip hop from Minas Gerais, and a song by the rapper Djonga contribute, finally, to critically fill the work, helping us to propose dialogues with different social realities.

Belo Horizonte is a Brazilian city with many social and environmental problems. A city that grew  during the blossoming of contradictions inherent to the formation of our country. Belo Horizonte is a promise, like all other capitals. It's a mystery. "Provincial,” "an egg," “has that hill": Belo Horizonte, that darling, a city that only the natives themselves can complain about.

Among its social and environmental problems, we seek to address mainly two: 1) the destruction of nature and the landscape of this place by mining companies, associated with the interests of capital that devastate our mountains and rivers throughout the state; and 2) the social and racial inequality that, although stark, is totally invisible on the streets of urban centers, where we have the greatest concentration of economic disparities and the State perpetuates a continuous genocide against the black and poor population.

From the beginning, the program’s proposal invited us to leave our own comfort zones, reflecting on the different realities that we experience daily. For a while, I, who was able to stay at home during the quarantine, thought: “everything must be different outside.” But no: nothing has changed - and nothing is normal. There is no normal, and there can be no normal in a reality in which the relationships of life are based mainly on experiences of accumulation, consumption, segregation and continued violence.

This unrest took our group to the streets of Belo Horizonte in the middle of a pandemic. Due care was taken to avoid contamination and transmission of the virus during all our excursions through the streets - not empty - of the hypercenter of the capital of Minas Gerais.

The city was functioning as if there were no measures of restriction and distance. To understand this situation, it is necessary to review all centuries of Brazilian history, but the point to which we would return is the same: privileges of some and lack of access to basic conditions for many. Amidst this scenario, rhetoric about meritocracy still flourishes. There is definitely, in addition to many others, an interpretive crisis in this country.

When we received our tech kits through the program, we went to record the streets to create our current world. Bring the images of our territory, our city, this falling land, to our virtual world. A look at the present to make our future possible.

EXPERIENCE: HABITAR

Imagine moving through a mystical universe, being able to view, run and fly through different spaces. You cannot touch anything, you cannot carry anything and you cannot take anything. You can run, fly, walk, listen, see, take pictures and stay still.

The importance of the experience was being able to tell stories around a “cold fire.” I heard this expression in a conversation between Edgar Xakriabá, photographer and indigenous activist, and Ailton Krenak on Instagram. They spoke of the present moment, filming a sunset in the landscape of their villages during a “live” session.

We now have the ability to meet with "friends" around a "cold fire.” A technology that our ancestors invented to feed us and to help us communicate better, share stories and create emotional bonds.

We have been affected by many stories during this period of the pandemic. I think we all tried to invent universes and possibilities for creation, through art and technology, that proposed reflections beyond reality. They are reflections on the future and on the conditions of inequality pulsating in our society, which cannot be normalized into a pacified “human condition.”

“How can the representation of possible worlds be made by the multiple subjectivities that compose it? How can we integrate the responsibility of co-creators into these narratives? In the perfect condition, we propose a game. We are offering a determining choice: to choose the planet you want to inhabit. What would you do?"

PORTAL” is Santiago's proposal for four heterogeneous groups of artists, who until March were concentrated in Belo Horizonte and surrounding regions, then had to retreat to their homes during the pandemic. Within its limitations and possibilities, four of the most beautiful works of art I have ever seen were born. Retomada (Resumption), Aguapé and Zona de Segurança (Safety Zone) are worth special contemplation.

In any case, this work made us build portals between our worlds, our homes and our subjectivities, in the midst of a period of social isolation. It was a call to reflect on this collective existence in the midst of all the uncertainties and perpetuated violence, further accentuated by the mourning of the fallen. In collective mourning, we found a way to express ourselves.

The collective imagination of social and environmental tragedies is part of our history and allows us to be courageous and inventive. All the members of this program made their work a message about the dignity that we want to see for all "others" - and not just for "us."

All projects used cutting-edge technologies for the creation of the works. This, in itself, already offered us a “new” experience. But “PORTAL still depends on primordial knowledge: the integration of the individual with nature as disruptive ways to think about life.

Stop and look at the past, let’s learn all over again from those who were always teaching us. How will we create the future? Will we do it together?

por João Henrique Motta (fotógrafo, jornalista de formação e artista em processo de criação)

Na noite daquela quinta-feira, dia 12 de março de 2020, o artista estadunidense Santiago X exibiu o vídeo da obra "ATICINTOLOCA: Man and The Black Snake" para um auditório cheio no Centro Cultural Banco do Brasil de Belo Horizonte (CCBB BH). A performance do artista indígena-futurista, natural das nações Kossati e Chamoru, recria a experiência da formação de montanhas a partir da projeção das curvas de nível em um ambiente de realidade mista: digital e físico. A experiência da gênese do relevo gerou identificação imediata para habitantes de um país cheio de serras.

Santiago X, ou Santi, foi o mentor que guiou cerca de 20 artistas brasileiros, reunidos em Belo Horizonte para participar do programa de residência internacional em arte digital American Arts Incubator – Brasil (AAI), em meados daquele mês de março de 2020. Aquela era a primeira vez de Santi no Brasil, e a experiência da residência foi dividida em duas partes por um inesperado momento histórico do nosso século: o início da pandemia do novo coronavírus. 

A obra que Santiago nos apresentou durante aquele encontro é uma referência ao mito da criação das montanhas do território de seu povo. À medida em que ele deslocava, com as mãos, alguns montes de areia dentro de uma espécie de caixa, uma projeção desenhava novas paisagens, acrescentando picos, depressões, planícies e serras. O verde, o azul, o vermelho e o amarelo, cores características desse tipo de mapa, coloriam a imagem durante todo o tempo em que ele remexia sua obra.

Era possível perceber, então, a importância do elemento “terra” dentro do trabalho do artista. Uma concepção ocidentalizada poderia, certamente, se limitar às características geológicas do solo. Mas aos olhos dos que têm uma relação mais profunda com a natureza do local e a terra em si, foi certamente impactante testemunhar àquela materialização de uma cosmovisão sendo ativada por meio de aparelhos tecnológicos. 

Lembro-me de que perguntei a Santiago, naquela ocasião, sobre quando ou como ele havia incorporado ao seu trabalho o termo “indigenous futurism” (futurismo indígena), e ele disse algo do tipo: “Minha relação com o futurismo é resgatar a conexão com a minha terra (earth) e com os saberes dos meus ancestrais, para contar as nossas histórias a partir da arte. Continuo contando histórias sobre a vida e a memória do meu povo, também em uma realidade aumentada”. 

Em sua produção, o artista utiliza múltiplas plataformas para dar vida a ideias e estabelecer conexões com outras pessoas. Não por acaso, naquela mesma noite, a presença de uma turma de estudantes do curso de Paisagismo da UFMG contribuiu para um encaminhamento muito genuíno da ocasião: conhecer e ouvir as palavras de Santiago. Eu também precisava ouvi-lo e conhecê-lo. Foi lindo, e ali senti que a residência seria uma experiência fértil para questionar quase tudo.

Após a abertura do AAI, algumas pessoas foram a um bar perto do centro cultural para celebrar aquele começo. Santiago X, seu assistente, Sandro, alguns profissionais da produção e também um grupo de participantes da residência, dentre os quais as arquitetas Roberta Silvestre, Kyvia Salles e eu. Ainda não sabíamos disso, mas formaríamos, mais tarde, o mesmo grupo de trabalho – Grupo 4.

Juntos, brindamos, bebemos e comemos.

PRIMEIRA PARTE

O primeiro encontro com todos os participantes da oficina se deu no final de semana seguinte. Inicialmente, nos apresentamos e expusemos os objetos que queríamos materializar em um mundo de realidade imersiva. Foi intenso. 

Demos, então, os primeiros passos com as ferramentas que utilizaríamos para criar, em grupos, obras e instalações direcionadas a uma exposição em uma das salas do CCBB BH. Uma discussão sobre o conceito de “realidade” introduziu os pontos que deveríamos contemplar em nossos futuros trabalhos: desigualdade econômica e proteção do meio ambiente. 

Somente nos últimos cinco anos, o território de Minas Gerais sofreu dois dos mais graves crimes ambientais do mundo: o rompimento das barragens da Samarco e da Vale, que destruíram muitas vidas em Bento Rodrigues e Brumadinho, gerando consecutivas tragédias e sucessivas violações sobre os modos de vida de famílias e cidades inteiras.

Até a sexta-feira daquela semana, no entanto, Belo Horizonte entraria para a longa lista de cidades do mundo em que as autoridades municipais decretaram o fechamento do comércio e orientaram as pessoas a permanecer em casa, seguindo recomendações sanitárias de especialistas. 

No primeiro momento, a conversa era sobre lavar as mãos. Com a interrupção das atividades do CCBB, o American Arts Incubator foi adiado.

O MUNDO EM QUARENTENA

Na Itália, as mortes eram 700 e tantas por dia. Quase mil pessoas morrendo, por dia, em um país onde todos os mitos civilizatórios dos sistemas políticos, de economia e de saúde pareciam ter fincado pé na razão. Mas nem tudo é o que parece. Mais adiante, o primeiro ministro britânico, até então negacionista em relação à transmissão global da doença, contrai a COVID-19.

Fechamento de fronteiras, fechamento de estabelecimentos, fechamento de casas. O mundo estava se esvaziando, e o continente europeu era o novo epicentro da doença. O mundo material foi contaminado. E hoje, a pandemia, seguindo seu curso natural, assola o nosso continente: a América do Sul.

Liguei para os meus amigos. Com certeza, por muito tempo, vou me lembrar desse dia. E também daqueles números solitários. 15 mortos. Era sábado. Depois de alguns dias, o cenário da pandemia seria como o de um filme de terror: cemitérios cheios de gente vestindo parafernálias plásticas para conter a transmissão do vírus.

Quem pode, fica em casa. Alguns ainda saem. Outros tantos insistem em promover aglomerações. A maioria precisa conseguir o que comer e, para isso, precisa estar fora. Nem todos conseguem se proteger dessa onda violenta.

Ainda estamos em choque? Ou nos acostumamos com o choque? Será que ele simplesmente passou? O que está acontecendo? As mortes aumentaram e não param de aumentar. 

Como foi possível chegar até aqui? Erramos? Onde erramos? Está errado. Como consertar? Imaginar qualquer possibilidade de futuro nos faz flertar com o surreal, logo abaixo da Linha do Equador.

“De onde viemos? Para onde vamos? Essas perguntas importam agora?”

Essa é a mensagem inicial de "HABITAR", trabalho coletivo que resulta de uma colaboração entre as arquitetas Roberta Silvestre, Kyvia Salles e eu, João Henrique Motta, um jornalista. As provocações do trabalho buscam oferecer perguntas sobre a realidade – e também sobre a possibilidade de criação de futuros. 

A experiência coletiva que compartilhamos foi pautada por um processo muito particular de correspondência de ideias entre o grupo. Nós nos ouvimos, paramos, conversamos e decidimos juntos sobre o que criar. A partir da complementação de habilidades, chegamos a alguns consensos e partimos, enfim, à operação de ferramentas visuais e digitais, assim como ao desenvolvimento de conceitos e narrativas.

Quando o JA.CA nos comunicou por e-mail sobre a possibilidade de retorno da residência, agora de maneira virtual, respeitando as normas sanitárias e o impedimento a aglomerações, aquilo foi motivo suficiente para nos animarmos em meio a uma quarentena cheia de incertezas e também de infinitas possibilidades para estimular o pensamento artístico.

Desde a publicação dos temas que fariam parte dessa experiência, a desigualdade econômica e o ambientalismo se consolidaram como aspectos que uniam os interesses propositivos e narrativos do nosso grande grupo, cada um em sua medida e à sua maneira. Valorizar a proteção da natureza e contar as histórias de seus guardiões foi uma das fogueiras que nos reuniu para contarmos histórias, fazermos perguntas e imaginar futuros. 

A mineração, sem dúvida, é uma cicatriz que há séculos faz sangrar essa terra, ano após ano, em um regime exploratório que esgota montanhas, florestas e rios, aterroriza cidades e interfere no modo de vida de tantas pessoas. E a impunidade ainda torna nossa realidade um tanto mais cruel. Essa exploração estaria no centro das nossas críticas. Brumadinho e Bento Rodrigues nunca podem ser esquecidos. 

Outros crimes ambientais que sucessivamente ocorreram nos últimos meses também  engrossaram nosso coro de alertas: queimadas criminosas de norte a sul, toneladas de óleo no litoral do Nordeste, invasão de terras indígenas pelo garimpo ilegal, enchentes e desabamentos nas cidades. A isso se soma uma autoridade estatal que se arma e declara uma guerra explícita a modos de vida alternativos ao capitalismo hegemônico, conforme vamos abordar mais à frente. 

Defender o meio ambiente é defender as constelações de modos de vida e as histórias que compõem nossa trajetória: os povos originários do Brasil, a população negra, a população pobre, as comunidades tradicionais — todos e todas que vivem à margem de “uma humanidade”. Respeitar essas histórias é fundamental na mensagem que buscamos aprender e transmitir. 

No início de maio, voltamos a nos encontrar pela plataforma Zoom. Santiago, em Chicago, e nós, em Belo Horizonte. Mais adiante, nos reunimos com o painelista João Souza, criador da ONG Favela e palestrante convidado a comentar a exposição resultante da residência, visando dar sequência às atividades em grupo. Aquele foi um dos pontos mais necessários deste processo: uma oportunidade para dialogar com alguém que nos estimulou a afiar mais ainda a dimensão crítica dos projetos e nos ajudou a olhar diretamente nos olhos das desigualdades que formam as estruturas econômicas e políticas do Brasil.

Por fim, Santiago X decidiu que a exposição virtual do AAI se chamaria "PORTAL".

DESAPRENDENDO 

“Recursos naturais para quê? Desenvolvimento sustentável para quem?”, questiona Ailton Krenak, no livro “Ideias para adiar o fim do mundo” (Companhia das Letras, 2019). 

Economizar o quê, se a terra nos dá tudo? Como pode haver falta, se a floresta é o símbolo da abundância e da diversidade? Para os povos indígenas do Brasil, o território dos ancestrais é sagrado. A natureza é a maior riqueza, e não pode ser violada para o acúmulo dos violentos. 

"HABITAR" é baseado em uma leitura poética dos livros do escritor, ativista, líder indígena e um dos fundadores da União das Nações Indígenas (UNI), Ailton Krenak, e também do poema “Triste Horizonte” (1976), de Carlos Drummond de Andrade (1902-1987). A obra foi feita com ferramentas de arquitetura, modelação digital, músicas, paisagens sonoras, poesia, literatura, fotografia, vídeos em 360º e outras tecnologias de realidade virtual.

Em uma interpretação livre, as palavras de Ailton ecoam nesta obra, nos permitindo imaginar realidades, misturar cosmos e materializar os sonhos desses artistas no mundo virtual. O autor surgiu como uma referência comum a todos os participantes do programa de residência do AAI, tanto em função da potência múltipla e revolucionária de suas ideias em direção à descolonização do olhar quanto também pela combatividade própria às suas palavras.

Nossa inquietação passa, então, a ser desconstruída na mesma medida em que nos aproximamos da arte a partir dos conselhos de Santiago e de Krenak. Santiago nos apontou dois pontos fundamentais para pensar os nossos mundos: "abstrair" e "curar". Foram esses termos que nos conduziram e nos permitiram ter trocas tão honestas sobre as expectativas em torno do trabalho. 

A floresta é um presente de nossos ancestrais, que a plantaram como um jardim. Não se trata, portanto, de um fenômeno cósmico aleatório, dependente de algo como o alinhamento dos astros e da expansão da matéria, mas, sim, da ação histórica de grupos humanos em sintonia com as entidades que vivem ali. Essas e outras sabedorias indígenas expandiram nossa imaginação para esse trabalho. 

Trabalhar com uma plataforma digital de arquitetura de cenários e descrição de cenas, tendo ainda a possibilidade de conduzir experiências de outras naturezas, nos encheu de um sentimento inerente à fruição artística: inventar. E inventamos tudo: primeiro, o papel; depois, as fichas, as fotos, as colagens e as lâminas. 

Um continente assolado por problemas ambientais, uma cidade vazia, mas ainda barulhenta. Um mundo em reflorestamento e uma comunidade em festa. Tudo perfeitamente transfigurado para a atmosfera virtual, para a internet. 

RECRIAÇÃO VIRTUAL

Tudo só aconteceu a partir da complementação de habilidades e reflexões de três jovens artistas mineiros que pegaram emprestadas as palavras e ideias de outros, entre pensadores clássicos e contemporâneos.

Ao imaginarmos a experiência, considerando a obra em um universo de realidade virtual como o hubs.mozilla (que na época pouco conhecíamos), acreditamos que tudo seria possível. Imaginamos mundos que teriam vídeos como teto, filmagens 360º como satélites, poesias ecoariam no espaço, e a natureza continuaria a proporcionar a vida nos ambientes. Uma experiência biológica e espiritual de reflorestamento. E foi nisso em que "HABITAR" se transformou. 

Essa seria a nossa contemplação para um mundo que busca cura. Essa foi a gênese imaginada por três artistas de Belo Horizonte: um mundo que interliga diferentes passados, presentes e futuros.

KRENAK SIGNIFICA “CABEÇA DA TERRA”

Mestre Ailton é um líder político e revolucionário, que em diferentes momentos de sua vida tem participado ativamente da consolidação dos direitos políticos e subjetivos das nações indígenas no Brasil. Em seus livros mais recentes, ele tem conversado sobre a sua terra, próxima ao Rio Doce ("Watu") e sobre sonhos.

Ao lado de “sua geração”, é um dos fundadores da UNI, em 1979. Criada a partir da união de vários ativistas, a organização foi responsável pela unificação das lutas de povos indígenas que combatem a colonização desde 1500. Ele também participou da Aliança dos Povos da Floresta, em 1987, ao lado de Chico Mendes, ativista, seringueiro e protetor da Floresta Amazônica. Tanto Mendes como Krenak são brasileiros que inspiram a atuação de outros ativistas mundo afora. 

A estação extrativista idealizada nos anos que antecederam os debates sobre os direitos e garantias dos povos das florestas seria uma solução contra o capital latifundiário que destruiu e destrói a Amazônia. Centenas de famílias de seringueiros abriram mão de hectares, de “glebas” de terras do bioma amazônico para poder cuidar da floresta tropical, juntando-se à luta dos povos indígenas pela proteção de seus territórios sagrados.

Para o mundo dos CPFs e CNPJs, o que estava em jogo era a autonomia da lei constitucional sobre a terra. Afinal, se determinado direito está na Constituição, ele precisa ser garantido. Mas não há palavra em português ou Lei Federal que traduza a relação de um indivíduo com o seu local de nascimento, com o significado que tem para um indígena ou para um seringueiro como Chico Mendes.

A autoproteção das florestas pelas comunidades que ali resistem, criando cenários onde os humanos respeitam todos os outros seres, vivendo em equilíbrio, é também uma experiência que tentamos interpretar nesse trabalho. Chico Mendes foi assassinado no quintal de sua casa justamente em um ano no qual se debatia as novas leis constitucionais da “redemocratização”. O legado de sua luta vive no cotidiano das comunidades extrativistas e entre seus companheiros.

O que aconteceu, na prática, é que o Estado brasileiro se comprometeu a dar total proteção individual e coletiva para os territórios indígenas, bem como prometeria as demarcações logo a seguir. Prometeu, ainda, às mesmas nações, coisas que nenhuma outra nação ocidentalizada pode garantir à outra: a paz. Coisa dos brancos. Os povos indígenas foram considerados brasileiros e teriam seus direitos e garantias resguardados pela lei – pela primeira vez desde a invasão de seus territórios.

Como de costume, essas conquistas e marcos continuam em alerta, resistindo contra o poder destrutivo do capital. Mais do que nunca, o Estado declara uma guerra contra a natureza. A diferença é que hoje, na cabeça do (anti) Ministro do Meio Ambiente, essa é a batalha final. "Uma terra onde não se pode vender nada": imaginem como isso é uma tragédia para um ministro branco, que recebeu a tarefa – do próprio Presidente da República – de destruir o que resta do meio ambiente.

Esses modos de vida, proposições de universos e alianças, são experiências políticas de resistência em nosso território que também nos ajudaram a imaginar as reflexões propostas em "HABITAR". Segundo o fotógrafo e etnógrafo Edgar Kanaykó, da nação Xacriabá, seria preciso “indigenizar as telas”, “indigenizar os processos de produção de conhecimento”. Em sua visão, esse seria um processo que vem de dentro para fora, a partir de subjetividades cada vez mais potentes, formando um coletivo mais poderoso. À medida em que respeitamos as complexidades dessas constelações de subjetividades, compartilhar respeito e cultivar afetos fica mais fácil.

INVASÃO

As questões raciais não resolvidas por Brasil e EUA são as razões das nossas mazelas, deficiências e desigualdades. Há séculos, a proclamação de uma branquitude é um câncer para o ser humano. A afirmação de uma fictícia qualidade superior baseada na cor de pele é uma declaração de guerra aos não brancos. A proclamação de uma superioridade que dizima universos inteiros, a partir da imposição cruel de um único modo de vida baseado no acúmulo, na competição e na padronização da existência.

Descolonizar é preciso em todas as fronteiras: nos sistemas de saúde, de educação, de segurança e também nas artes. Somente assim seria possível conceber a preservação da diversidade como o real sentido de nossas existências, individuais e coletivas. 

Falamos de um inimigo que não tem forma, mas exerce o poder de matar, invadir e destruir. O colonialismo pode ser apresentado de várias maneiras, mas talvez a melhor forma de dizê-lo aqui seja apontando ao racismo estrutural e às distrações que esse sistema cria com a intenção de nos alienar da terra, nos dissociar enquanto organismos integrados a este planeta, para nos separar dessa possibilidade de existência conjunta: de um lado, os humanos, de outro, a natureza. Mas “tudo é natureza”.

No Brasil, mata-se com uma impunidade ímpar. E mata-se com impunidade ímpar, sobretudo, a população não branca deste "pedação" de terra há mais de 500 anos intitulado América. Nesse sentido, outra reflexão que extraímos de Krenak é a ideia de que, se alguns são tratados como cidadãos de segunda classe, não formamos, de fato, uma humanidade. Negros, indígenas, ciganos, pobres e caiçaras não usufruem das mesmas “garantias” que uma pessoa branca – isso é fato.

Comunidades que nos oferecem práticas de vida e concepção de mundos diferentes do sistema hegemônico sempre estiveram na mira da colonização. Séculos depois, continuar aprendendo as formas de resistência dessas comunidades tradicionais deveria ser um gesto político de respeito e reverência. Principalmente em um país onde todas as relações materiais são produto da escravização. O “nosso mundo” foi erguido em cima de cemitérios indígenas e construído com o suor e o sangue dos povos africanos, raptados de seus territórios ancestrais. 

A experiência que nosso grupo criou corresponde a um universo disposto em uma plataforma de realidade virtual, no qual cada participante poderá visitar quatro planetas diferentes e escolher, ao final, aquele que gostaria de habitar. Um convite para repensar o passado, refletir sobre o presente e imaginar o futuro. Kyvia e Roberta são arquitetas brilhantes. Elas criaram as cidades velhas de um mundo real e as nossas invenções.

Neste ponto, havíamos firmado uma ideia: a grande missão humana deveria ser preservar os saberes que nos conectam com a vida neste planeta. Mas como fazê-lo se não somos uma humanidade? Se todas as desigualdades apontam para uma humanidade desigual? Não pode haver pacificação se alguns são tratados como alvos.

BH E A SERRA

O poema “Triste Horizonte”, de Carlos Drummond de Andrade, é basilar em outra narrativa que se avista em um passado-futuro-presente. Durante o período da pandemia do coronavírus, é impossível não abordar tudo o que a arte nos oferece em contextos de distanciamento, lockdown, isolamento, quarentena e o que for. 

Os versos do poeta mineiro foram escritos em 1976, na cidade do Rio de Janeiro, onde ele viveu até a sua morte, em 1987. Segundo um relato do artista, o poema foi inspirado em uma notícia sobre forças de segurança que barravam as escaladas e as caminhadas das pessoas na Serra do Curral. A triste despedida de Belo Horizonte nos comove a partir do olhar melancólico para a destruição da mesma serra pela MBR, mineradora que explorava a montanha naquela época. Trata-se de um processo que esgota as mesmas montanhas há décadas e que, assim, destróem também uma parte viva do povo mineiro. De tempos em tempos, afinal, as crises do preço do minério perturbam a plenitude das nossas serras.

Há séculos a mineração deixa marcas cruéis no país, e nos últimos cinco anos, dois crimes ambientais em Minas Gerais, envolvendo uma das maiores empresas do mundo, revelam uma face ainda mais cruel das sucessivas violações de direitos nesse tipo de crime. O crime ambiental. 

O olhar para uma Belo Horizonte ainda provinciana, mas “palco das artes novas”, é outro ponto interessante do mesmo poema. Esse ponto nos liga ao atual momento de profusão cultural da cidade, assim como a uma geração que busca a real infusão de diversidade no caldeirão cultural do ambiente urbano. Excertos do escritor Paulo Eduardo Correa, figura chave do hip hop mineiro, e uma música do rapper Djonga contribuem, por fim, para preencher criticamente a obra, nos ajudando a propor diálogos com diferentes realidades sociais.

Belo Horizonte é uma cidade brasileira com muitos problemas sociais e ambientais. Uma cidade que surge durante o afloramento de contradições inerentes à formação do nosso país. Belo Horizonte é uma promessa, como todas as outras capitais. É um mistério. "Provinciana", "um ovo", "só tem morro": Belo Horizonte, essa querida, cidade de que só os próprios nativos podem reclamar.

Dentre seus problemas sociais e ambientais, procuramos abordar principalmente dois: 1) a destruição da natureza e da paisagem deste lugar pelas mineradoras, associada a interesses do capital que devasta as nossas serras e rios, por todo o estado; e 2) a desigualdade social e racial que, apesar de gritante, é totalmente invisível nas ruas dos centros urbanos, onde temos a maior concentração das disparidades econômicas e o Estado perpetua um contínuo genocídio contra a população preta e pobre. 

Desde o início, a proposta da residência nos convidava a sair de nossas próprias zonas de conforto, refletindo sobre as diferentes realidades que nos atravessam cotidianamente. Por um tempo, eu, que pude ficar em casa durante a quarentena, pensei: “tudo deve estar diferente lá fora”. Mas não: nada mudou – e nada está normal. Não há um normal, e não pode existir um normal em uma realidade na qual as relações da vida estão baseadas principalmente em experiências de acumulação, consumo, segregação e continuadas violências.

Essa inquietação levou nosso grupo às ruas de Belo Horizonte em plena pandemia. Os devidos cuidados para evitar a contaminação e a transmissão do vírus foram tomados durante todas as nossas derivas pelas ruas – não vazias – do hipercentro da capital mineira.

A cidade estava funcionando como se não houvesse medidas de restrição e distanciamento. Para aprofundar essa direção, é necessário revisar todos séculos de história do Brasil, mas o ponto a que retornaríamos é o mesmo: privilégios de uns e falta de acesso a condições básicas de muitos. Em meio a este cenário, ainda florescem retóricas sobre meritocracia. Há, definitivamente, para além de tantas outras, uma crise interpretativa neste país.

Quando recebemos os kits de trabalho, fomos gravar as ruas para criar o nosso mundo atual. Trazer as imagens do nosso território, da nossa cidade, dessa terra em queda, para o nosso mundo virtual. Um olhar sobre o presente para possibilitar o nosso futuro.

EXPERIÊNCIA: HABITAR

Imagine transitar por um universo místico, podendo apenas assistir, correr e voar por diferentes espaços. Você não pode tocar em nada, não pode carregar nada e não pode levar nada. Pode correr, voar, andar, escutar, ver, tirar fotos e ficar parado.

A importância da experiência foi poder contar histórias em torno de um fogo frio. Ouvi essa expressão em uma conversa do fotógrafo e ativista indígena Edgar Xakriabá com Ailton Krenak, pelo Instagram. Eles falavam do momento presente, filmando a paisagem do pôr do sol de suas aldeias em uma “live” pela rede social. 

Do presente que é a possibilidade de cada um, em sua aldeia, poder se reunir com os “amigos” em torno de um “fogo frio”. Uma tecnologia que nossos ancestrais inventaram para nos alimentar e para nos ajudar a comunicar melhor, compartilhar histórias e criar laços afetivos. 

Fomos afetados por muitas histórias nesse período da pandemia. Penso que todos tentamos inventar universos e possibilidades de criação, por meio da arte e da tecnologia, que propusessem reflexões além da realidade. São reflexões sobre o futuro e sobre as condições de desigualdade pulsantes em nossa sociedade, as quais não podem ser normalizadas em uma pacificada “condição humana”.

“Como a representação de mundos possíveis pode ser feita pelas múltiplas subjetividades que a compõem? Como podemos integrar a responsabilidade de co-criadores dessas narrativas? Em uma condição perfeita, propomos um jogo. E se pudermos oferecer uma possibilidade determinante: escolher o planeta que você quer habitar. O que você faria?”

PORTAL é a proposta de Santiago para quatro grupos heterogêneos de artistas, que até março se concentravam em Belo Horizonte e região, e durante a pandemia precisaram se recolher em suas casas. Quem era de outra cidade, inclusive, retornou para sua origem. Dentro de suas limitações e possibilidades, nasceram quatro dentre as obras de arte mais bonitas que já vi. Retomada, Aguape e Zona de Segurança são uma contemplação especial. 

De todas as formas, esse trabalho nos fez construir portais entre nossos mundos, nossas casas e nossas subjetividades, em pleno período de isolamento social. Constitui-se um chamado para refletir sobre essa existência coletiva em meio a todas as incertezas e violências perpetuadas, acentuadas ainda pelo luto das mortes. Encontramos no luto coletivo uma forma de nos expressarmos. 

O imaginário coletivo das tragédias sociais e ambientais faz parte da nossa história e nos permite sermos corajosos e inventivos. Todos os integrantes dessa residência fizeram de seus trabalhos uma mensagem sobre a dignidade que queremos ver para todos os “outros”  – e não só para “nós”.

Todos os projetos dispuseram de tecnologias de ponta para a criação das obras. Isso, por si só, já nos oferece uma experiência “nova”. Mas a exibição "PORTAL" levanta ainda um saber primordial: a indissociação do indivíduo e da natureza como caminhos disruptivos para se pensar a vida. 

Parar e olhar o passado, aprender tudo de novo com quem sempre nos ensinou. Como vamos criar o futuro? Faremos isso juntos?

All AAI Brazil projects can be experienced at www.aaibrazil.com

The entirety of this experience, from beginning to end, is something I will cherish and continue to be inspired by as I go forward in my art practice. From the relationships forged on the ground to my amazement of the vision and voices of the participants, and for our entire team’s resilience and creative pivoting in response to the pandemic, I am forever grateful.

Image by Santiago X (2020).

When I arrived in Belo Horizonte, there was a charge in the air. It was something that was hard to pin down in the moment; it felt like a fire inside. After talking with people, learning their stories and their struggles, as well as their similarities to people I knew back home, the urgency to amplify the humanity in our shared experience burnt in me like a beacon. Whatever was to be created in this short time we had together had to transcend convention, and inject a much-needed narrative into the often cold landscape of art and technology — breathing life into it.

Image by João Henrique Motta de Miranda (2020).

There were a lot of meaningful exchanges and experiences along this journey, but the ones that really stood out to me were the events that inspired us to create portals for healing — and to witness the participants embrace and overcome the challenges of creating team-based virtual experiences while in physical isolation. 

Image by Santiago X (2020).

Upon my arrival in Belo Horizonte, Francisca of our host partner JA.CA, took me to the opening of a new exhibition entitled "VAIVÉM," which showcased the work of Indigenous Brazilian artists and the narrative of the hammock.

There, I met an Indigenous artist and healer named, Iba, who sang traditional healing songs and linked those songs to the murals he had painted on the walls. I talked with him in my native language and he talked in his; we were laughing at the similarities in our creation stories and symbologies, and he told me his work was entirely about building gateways for healing, or portals. We laughed again, because that is exactly what my practice was/is and what I wanted to create during the incubator.

Image by Santiago X (2020).

Needless to say, the participants took every tool and every opportunity that was presented to them to tell their stories, and they delivered. Watching their rapid progression from learning 3D scanning, projection mapping, augmented reality, and finally virtual reality, was simply incredible.

The teams' abilities to seamlessly incorporate these tools into a very human experience on a completely unfamiliar platform was beyond anything I could have expected. When it was all said and done, we augmented a new, uncharted digital landscape with reality and humanity. Life was breathed into each project — life that will outlive our own.

 

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