Perry Hoberman
versión en español
Perry Hoberman
versión en español |
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"...the usermanualman at your side while you are "submerged" in the piece explains that there are five layers, but you can't bend down too much because the proximity sensors between your back and the floor make the images go up [i.e. to make you feel like you are going down] and you go into a speedblurloop which is not what they want you to do..."
-- Bureau of Inverse Technology (BIT), "Report on Osmose," Mute, Issue 3, Autumn 1995
A few definitions: "Immersion:" the willful ignorance of the very apparatus that immerses me. "Virtual:" a tacit agreement to stay on my best behavior while immersed. "Interface:" an impenetrable surface, a shiny shell containing nothing but a hollow void. "Cyber:" mind sans body, pure thought without substance or support.
Is it possible to break something inside of a virtual environment without thereby causing an immediate rupture in the illusion/immersion? How much must we restrict our actions inside of these artificial realities? And if these worlds are in fact as fragile as they appear, might there be some way to make them more pliable, more resilient? How can limits be tested in this arena without causing the entire edifice to come crashing down? Do the rules for any such breakage have to be programmed? And does this necessity preclude the possibility of unpredictable accidents?
It's no surprise that most entities in computer games are programmed along the usual binary splits: on/off, full/empty, alive/dead. In contrast to the physical world, it's far easier to decimate a virtual thing than it is to damage it. And it may be clear that it's possible to construct virtual worlds that are complex enough to manifest truly unpredictable behavior, but does this unpredictability itself have to be controlled, reigned in, lest it lead to an irrevocable system crash? Does this turn out to be one of the unerasable distinctions between a constructed reality and the physical world, where accidents are generally contained in their effects? (Of course, there were fears early in the development of the bomb that the splitting of an atom would lead to an irreversible chain reaction that would promptly engulf the entire world...)
The Philip K. Dick story "The Electric Ant" (1968) describes one Garson Poole who discovers that he is not (as he had previously believed) a human being, but in fact only a mechanical construct. This results in an attitude of curiosity/nihilism which leads him to tamper with the very device (a punched plastic "reality tape") that determines his perceptions of the world itself. Initially adding and subtracting "stimulus factors," finally cutting the tape altogether, he manages to intervene (disastrously, as it turns out) in the very constitution of reality. Likewise, in Lawrence Shainberg's novel "Memories of Amnesia" (1988) the narrator (a neurosurgeon who becomes inexplicably brain damaged) is driven to experiment on himself, eventually performing self-surgery.
In both of these stories, the narrative disintegrates at the moment of intervention. But is this inevitable? Is this what always happens when we misbehave? Simulation technologies were originally developed to allow soldiers and pilots to experience dangerous situations without mortal consequences, to survive what would in reality be a fatal mistake. In applying this apparatus to less instrumental tasks, can't the sphere of possible mistakes and misbehavior be widened? Shouldn't we be able to misbehave ourselves in cyberspace? Or are we going to condemn ourselves to tamper-resistant worlds that are as controlled and predictable as any shopping mall?
Instead of modelling behavior, I want to focus on misbehavior; not the cooperative response but the unexpected one; not the enthusiast but the iconoclast. (As part of my presentation, I'll describe several of my current projects and proposals as attempts to put some of these ideas into practice.)
Biography: |
Perry Hoberman is an installation and performance artist whose work has been exhibited widely throughout the United States and Europe. He works with a variety of technologies, ranging from utterly obsolete to state-of-the-art. His installation "Bar Code Hotel" was awarded the Archetype Award for Overall Excellence at the 1995 Interactive Media Festival in Los Angeles. Other ongoing projects include "Faraday's Garden" (a viewer-activated appliance installation), "The Empty Orchestra Cafe" (a radical Neo-Karaoke Bar), and (with Nick Philip) "Cathartic User Interface 1.0," an installation dealing with issues of technological frustration and digital confusion. Hoberman is the Art Director at Telepresence Research. He is represented by Postmasters Gallery, and currently teaches at the School of Visual Arts. |