Lili Maya

I began mixing traditional/physical art forms with digital media because I needed the contact with the physical act of drawing and making. It is how I think and orient myself. What I once thought was a desire to mix these worlds was really a necessity if I was to continue working with digital media.

Over time, I stopped making a distinction and I think of my work as art that incorporates different materials and processes. Expanding on that notion, my practice is now an interdisciplinary collaboration involving sound, performance, site-specific installation and music.

Claudia O’Steen

Arc of Visibility

This work points to a never-ending process, a series of attempts to measure an infinite line, to chart the color of the sky, to capture the single point where a shift occurs in a limitless expanse. Using altered surveying equipment I document the sea and the process of being in between two places.

Departing from the familiar, I begin a process of navigating the unknown. Through this transit, I extend my own boundaries into un-encountered territory and embrace the unforeseen. Using devices that refer to both the past and the future without positioning themselves in either, I displace fragments of landscape, allowing you to experience places and events in many ways at once. These constructed tools take in light and reflect my surroundings, allowing me to measure and record my position in relation to the infinite horizon line, or the apex of a wave.

Seeing, counting, and measuring are ways of understanding; creating tools to record and quantify these measurements allows me to understand them in relation to myself. Using these devices, I attempt to orient myself by examining place via the lens of personal experience and primary observation, often selecting points that are ultimately impossible to calibrate against.



Dan Chen

It’s not every day that you get to be affectionate around something, it just doesn’t happen that often. —Larry David1

It is because of the above that I treasure every moment of affection that I get. Robot-stimulated affection might just be something that we can use to ease in and out of real affection toward another human being.

Whatever love you can get and give, whatever happiness you can filch or provide, every temporary measure of grace, whatever works.
—Boris Yellnikoff2

Happiness and love are sometimes hard to come by. If the robot makes a person happier than a real person, we shouldn’t deprive them of it. Having said that, whatever works doesn’t mean it works the best, or is the best solution.

If you tell the truth about how you’re feeling, it becomes funny.
—Larry David3

The truth is that this device is a placebo device duplicating the act of comfort. It does in fact comfort, but it is also nonsense at the same time.

Every relationship is just so tenuous and precarious. – Larry David4

If this is true about human relationships, in many aspects it is no different than relationships people have with robots or pets.

1“Larry David.” Xplore Inc, 2012. 2 May. 2012.
2“Boris Yellnikoff” Whatever Works (2009) – Memorable quotes, 2012. 2 May. 2012.
3“Larry David.” Xplore Inc, 2012. 2 May. 2012.
4“Larry David.” Xplore Inc, 2012. 2 May. 2012.
File > Save As > Intimacy

Francisco Ricardo

Certainly, the written thesis is intended to allow students to create a critical dimension, a robust vocabulary for the discourse of their creative voice. It would little help students to be masterful in creating work, if in turn they were unable to contextualize, distinguish, and/or defend it in relation to other works, artists, and histories. I consider this piece at least equal in importance to the actual artwork. For without a larger context, the artist would be subjected to the abilities and critical proficiency of an outsider, a critic, a collector, or a curator, rather than be able to augment and buttress that knowledge.

In other words, it is not to be used as a mere “description” of work, nor an open-ended, lengthier version of the artist’s statement. And the position is anchored in a serious scholarly statement. Of course, not everyone felt this way—to the detriment of what important critical armament we could give the students of this program, who, as pioneers in their own right, need friends of The New.

Emma Hogarth

The culture of D+M was truly interdisciplinary. The idea was to combine digital processes and technologies with physical media.

A central theme in many people’s work seemed to be locating connections between “traditional” physical media and processes, and digital media and its associated processes and culture. D+M  ‘09 had students from many different academic and artistic backgrounds: painting, sculpture, performance, computer science, graphic design, architecture, etc. Every person was really different artistically, which made for a lot of diverse research interests and approaches.

Jeanne Jo

Making Rope

One line of yarn is wrapped, many times, around two tree trunks set far apart from each other in a city park. The single line of yarn is then cut, created a loose pile of strings. I take the loose yarn and crochet it, using my hands and arms instead of a crochet hook. I make a long white rope. As each crocheted stitch becomes a small part of something large, the multiple stands of yarn are stronger together than they would be when separated. I use my rope to climb down a high wall that overlooks the city of Providence.

Jeanne Jo: Making Rope

Flying Machines

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

Paulina Sierra

In this desire for translation is where Appropriation in my creative process begins. It is activated by what has been assimilated from our heritage and cultural background, a background that has already become divergent by the multiple interventions of otherness we have had in the past.

I want to acknowledge that centuries later we still concoct new interpretations of the old world, just as we have also been able to apply old understandings to the new. Our parameters are modern and traditional, crafted and mass produced, exogenous and indigenous, cosmic and technocratic.

Eye I & Eye Us

Liat Berdugo

“Why is this piece funny?” I asked my students. I had taught them to program microcontrollers to make interactive art, and this was our first critique. One of them had just brought in a half-microwaved hot dog embedded with electrodes. He demonstrated its use: you touch the hot dog, and the computer shouts, “Smells like hot dog!” The student poked it over and over. We were laughing at a hot dog.

Sleight of Hand

Clement Valla

Questions concerning the artist’s hand and the outcome of mechanical or computer processes always lead to questions concerning authorship. I once witnessed a notable university professor become rather upset at a poetry generator written by Nick Monfort. This particular program would generate an endless stream of poetry.

The professor dismissed this offhand—if waves on a shore somehow carved the same words as in one of Wordsworth’s poems into the sand, could we consider it poetry, he asked? If there is no human agency to be detected, are we in the presence of art? Is there art without an artist? Of course, the artistry of Monfort’s poem was in the code—the instructions for the computer. And these are a tour de force; the entire program consists of only 256 characters, but can generate endless poetry that sounds and looks exactly like English.1

1 Montfort, Nick “ppg256 (Perl Poetry Generator in 256 characters).” Artist’s website. Nick Montfort.
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