Eva Sutton

Digital + Media encompasses and encroaches on all other media and thus is always in flux. There was a component to the program that was left undefined deliberately. And I think some people say that it was originally conceived of as a screen-based program. That’s not the case. I don’t think Bill would ever have limited it to that. He was very willing to have it continually be in flux as Digital + Media is. And to constantly reinvent itself and to let the students define what Digital + Media was to them. So there was a very kind of deliberate vagueness, that open-endedness, that he felt was very appropriate for a program in Digital + Media and for a graduate program in general.

Evelyn Eastmond

Blob Painting

I’m getting sick of just drawing the blobs and am really excited to try to draw one on a large canvas and finally get back to painting. I start preparing one of my canvases with a color that I like; a yellow mixture. I layer it a few times, and then a few more times, until I get a yellow wash I really like.

Then, intuitively, I decide to take a picture of the large yellow canvas and load it on my iPad. Once it’s on my iPad, I draw practice blobs over that picture just like the ones I did on paper. I do this over and over, and in different colors, to get a color and shape that feels right. I finally do, a large pink blob, and I set off to translate it to the canvas.

The process is fun. Once I start translating the image, I realize that I can use the iPad to help me make sure I get the outline of the shape exactly like I want it. Since it now has become an exercise in execution, and the large size takes more of my energy, I finally start needing mental painting breaks. I play SpellTower obsessively in between painting sections of the pink blob. This trust in my shape, in my colors, and in slowing down in my process is all feeling great.

Evelyn Eastmond: Blob Painting

Stephen Cooke

D+M students think about how technology is used in practice. Our students are interested in the social implications of technology, or why technology is affecting our lives.  Why should we use technology? Why shouldn’t we use technology? Our students ask those questions, as opposed to just considering technology another material.

Neil Salley

The practitioners and scholars that have been brought together to form this exhibition follow in the traditions of Dion, DeMarinis, and Duchamp in that they too are playfully engaged in the ready-made analytical language of science, technology, and museological paradigms.

It could also be said that outwardly this document, like the exhibition, conforms to the ready-made rituals inherent to the system within which it must conform. But inwardly it is an attempt to stir up ideas, spin concepts and blend the distinctions we make between science and art, tomfoolery and seriousness, reason and unreason, the real and the imaginary, positivism and ultimately, our presumption—of objectivity.

Now then, into the labyrinth!

Musée Patamécanique

Mark Cetilia

The natural world is indeed a noisy place, and it is my intent to create a physical presence for both keynotes and sound signals in my environments. My intent is neither to create a system in which we feel the natural world slipping away as technology overtakes it, nor to create a neo-Futurist work that insists upon the dominance of the machine. Rather, I am interested in bringing an awareness to the use of the hertzian space by creating an environment for contemplation of our surroundings. Giving my viewers time, mental and physical space to process the relationship between the natural and the manmade is pivotal to my work. If the “Ursound” is the “primary sound” (or the “Big Bang” . . .) from which all other sounds have rippled, then it may be found in all sounds, whether we perceive them as noise or as sounds of great beauty.

EFFECTIVE DOSE: CREATING PHYSIOLOGICAL RESPONSES TO INVISIBLE NETWORKS

Christopher Robbins

Creative destruction does not always operate literally; rather than change the object or phenomenon at hand, it can alter the focus, illuminating (or at least shedding new light on) unexpected elements. By changing perceptions about accepted ideas of an object, phenomenon, or culture, unseen constructs become visible.

the dutch boy with his finger in the dyke who has to pee

Evelyn Eastmond

Having taken three introductory-level design and painting courses by now, and currently being enrolled in a Junior-level painting studio, I am learning that this system for solving paintings on the canvas (through a set of predetermined design rules) is not the way artists think about or teach painting.

I always expected the “system” to come from the outside, to be taught to me in almost a textbook fashion, where I could then take what I had been taught and apply it systematically to achieve successful paintings.

Instead what I am finding is that painting (and every other form of art-making) is about taking your intuitions, ideas, impulses and urges and manifesting them through a discourse with a material that can help the artist get these very human intuitions out.

Things like natural artistic ability, talent and any foundational rules are all “nice-to-have,” but are all meant to be internalized in the maker and then used accordingly through the process of making.

println/paintln

Hye Yeon Nam

The expectation to conform culturally weighs on me heavily.

Recently, I was having breakfast when the server asked how I would like my eggs prepared and if I wanted them “sunny-side up.” I had never heard this term before and had misunderstood him as saying “sun inside up.”

I could have easily answered him affirmatively but instead I questioned him as to what “sun inside up” meant. This led to a frustrating interaction where he could not understand what I was saying and I could not understand the colloquialisms associated with ordering eggs.

In retrospect, I wonder if I should have just agreed with my server rather than causing the confusion to occur? Or was it best that I asked him so that not only did I have my eggs prepared the way I actually wanted them to be prepared but so that I could also learn what “sunny side up” meant to avoid future such situations? How should I have proceeded in the way that was most culturally complacent?

What does cultural complacency imply?

Self Portrait

Laura Swanson

Homemade Bull

Homemade Bull is a dwelling space that gives its child Other owner a powerful, unassailable “super-shell” body that protects her when she wants to read critical theory, express herself through art, or sleep and dream without the anxiety of social oppression. Using an imagined narrative of a child Other who is conscious of her own alterity and seeking to understand social injustice in order to become intellectually liberated, Homemade Bull is part of a series of surrogates and private refuges I created to assist her in this process. The viewer is not allowed to go inside the bull, but can get a glimpse of the hidden bedroom by looking through one of the nostrils.

Laura Swanson: Homemade Bull

Laura Swanson: Homemade Bull

Laura Swanson: Homemade Bull

Christopher Robbins

I think she’s trying to save the fish

I have constructed this misguided machine as a series of mechanical chapters that extend the story as they extend the machine.

An arm extending from the bellows is attached to a saw that cuts away at a branch, hoping to release the fish into the water below. By creating a tool designed under a flawed logical system, I attempted to illustrate a fictional character’s misunderstandings about our culture, thereby shedding light on that fictional character’s own culture.

By using this gap as the illuminating point of the piece, my hope was that the machine’s failure would cause viewers to recognize situations in which the successful attainment of a desired end result did not necessarily mean that the project was successful in the greater scheme.

This piece operates largely by making strange the taken-for-granted rules of the world around us, peeling back an absolute to make room for misunderstanding through a sort of melancholy slapstick.