My earliest radio memories go back to my grandmother's living room/kitchen. In this two bed room flat in a social housing estate in Graz in the 1960ies radio was the dominant medium. Every day during lunchtime the whole family would listen to an hour long news programme on Austrian state radio ORF. Austrian politics as well as world affairs broke into the domestic reality of our kitchen through this apparatus: The Cuban crisis, the assassinations of the Kennedy's, the Vietnam war, the war in Palestine, the political awakening of Muhammed Ali and the student's revolt. The valve audio amplifier inside the brown wooden case of our apparatus delivered the voices of professional news presenters in a particularily warm tone even when they spoke of the threat of nuclear extinction. The radio in the kitchen room empowered my grandparents to be politically informed and make conscious decisions about voting. The right to access to education and the right to vote had been denied to them by a backward and regressive system in the past, which is why they valued those things, education and voting, so highly when they grew older. Memories such as those combine to shape my perception of radio ... radio means voices floating through the kitchen and mixing with the smell of food. Radio means places far away, joys and threats unknown. Radio means a string concert while my grandmother tells me stories about hardship she experienced in her youth. As she was borne almost at the beginning of the 20th century, her stories became for me, inevitably intertwined with the narration of the century of radio. I would like make my first proposition: Those who write about new and old media should not try to become impartial, emotionless and bodyless voices which so often characterise theoretic writing. We should be able to stand fully behind what we say with everything that we have not just as intellectuals or artists but as human beings and we should not be afraid to expose ourselves as fallible humans.
As the political philosopher Cornelius Castoriadis pointed out, the concepts of history that exist are amazingly poor 1. There are those historians who focus on big events, big personalities, tyrants, revolutions and intermediate periods of peace. In their accounts there is no logic, no structure. History consists of a series of more or less random events in which identifiable individuals play an important role. This is illustrated best by Bertolt Brecht's short poem where he wrote: "Caesar beat the Gauls. Did he not even have a cook with him?" (Bertold Brecht, Questions from a worker who reads ). In the Marxist version of history social change is the result of class struggle between antagonistic group actors. As in Marxism the base defines the superstructure, the relationship of the forces of production is of defining influence on what people can think and dream about. Regarding history and new media another version of explaining social change has emerged. According to Marshall McLuhan and variations of his 'philosophy'2 communication media are the main force for social change; the book, the printing press, the newspaper, photography, radio, television and now the computer and the internet are the defining forces which trigger social change which is as inevitable as an avalanche (McLuhan 1964). In the first version of big-men-do-great deeds and in the last version of media being the main cause of socio-cultural change (which are compatible, by the way) the people do not play a role in the making of their own history. They become completely objectified and exposed to external heteronomic forces. Only a small elite of politicians and inventors, the political class and the creative class, have any role in the making of history (Florida 2002, Barbrook 2006). The Marxist version, although it comes with a lot of historic baggage,3 offers itself as a tool to look beyond the surface, gain some understanding of the inner workings of the big wheels of history and seeks to empower people to be the authors of their own history. Therefore I express my preference for concepts of history which seek to empower people to be autonomous, self-defined and the active makers of their own history (although it often looks as if we didn't really have a chance).
That said, I would also like to propose that the discovery of radio waves and the development of first applications in the late 19th century should be understood within a typically capitalist framework of 'innovation'. The age of electrical telecommunications had begun in the midst of the 19th century with the telegraph. The elites of that time were keenly aware of the potential of new communication media for war and commerce and it was a well established model that the inventor of a new technology would then become the founder of a large industrial corporation. The philosopher of science 4Jutta Weber (2003) observed that the conduct of science changed at about the midst of the 19th century. Before that turn science or technological innovation had been an activity of individuals either as academics or private inventor/entrepreneurs searching either for pure knowledge or business opportunities. As the importance of technological innovation in an industrial society had become increasingly obvious, science was turned into an organized activity financed and directed by large corporations and nation states, often working in unison to further goals such as colonial expansion (the logical continuation of this tendency was the WWI). It is this climate in the second half of the 19th century which stimulated exploration of and experimentations with electricity and magnetism. Thus, after Robert Maxwell mathematically postulated the existence of electromagnetic waves and after Heinrich Hertz provided empirical evidence that radio waves existed many engineers, inventors and entrepreneurs tried to find ways of putting this new force of nature to work in human society. Although Nicolas Tesla was hailed as the bigger genius and visionary, it was the more pragmatically minded Marconi who became the first wireless entrepreneur. As soon as he had his patents registered he tried to create a worldwide commercial monopoly for wireless telegraphy.
Although the dominant mode of technoscientific 'invention' at the turn to the 20th century was based on rationalism it also brought about its flipside of electromagnetic esotericism. Telegraphy and radio triggered a new age of spiritism.1 Positivism was on the rise and tried to draw a line between real science and crackpot science with its according philosophical superstructures (positivism vs. vitalism and idealism). But, as much as science tried to purge itself from the forces of irrationalism, its less irrational 'other' would not go away easily. First, science needed a close relationship with engineering and much more low level craft work to produce its instruments. Scientific discoveries which were presented as clean and completely rational types of knowledge, abstracted from the everyday experience of a politically messy times, relied on types of knowledge that were tacit, which came from the experiences of craftsmen and women and were never formalized as a theory.2 Second, science also produced truths which seemed irrational to the common man. As the dromologist Paul Virilio remarked, Max Planck's Quantum Theory, postulated in 1900, seemed "irrational to the rational man." (Virilio 1994, p. 23)
I propose to make the schizophrenia of science at the dawn of the age of radio productive for any further artistic investigations into the medium. Artists can re-engage with aspects of early radio science -- earlier thesises, discoveries and speculations which have fallen by the wayside of scientific progress driven by an ultraharsh utlitarianism dictated by buerocratic-capitalistic regime of efficiency. Artists don't need to adhere to the 'productivist dogma', and do not need to be afraid of being labelled esotericists themselves (this would be a grave misunderstanding of my proposition). And artists do not need to buy into a gentrified version of the history of science. The spirit of practical experimentation with electromagntic fields and the tools to do so such as areals, coils, magnets, copper wire, and so on, offer themselves to be materials for the arts, as they do not only provide a functionality but also have aesthetic qualities as objects, surfaces, materials. Concepts such as the luminiferous aether, which was first postulated to exist, then, after Einstein's first publication thought not to exist and now has entered scientific discourse through the backdoor of advanced quantum cosmology again offers interesting starting points, especially because there remain scientific riddles and problems to solve about the nature of matter, time, space and other quite fundamental categories.3
Artists have already shown to create very interesting work with the crumbs that fell from the lavishly decked out table of science. Douglas Kahn writes about naturally occuring very low frequencies and the work of Australian artist Joye Hinterdings with VLF in this volume. At the exhibition Waves in Riga, (Medosch, Šmite, Šmits, 2006) Austrian artist Franz Xaver reminded us that the sun is the biggest 'radio' in our solar system. At the entrance to his exhibition cubicle he wrote defiantly in a little hand written message on a piece of paper "what are 10 years of internet compared to 10 millions of years of radiation from the sun". Another Austrian artist, Udo Wid, has made measurements of naturally occuring Extremely Low Frequencies (ELF) for many years and tries to draw connections with brainwave activities and psychotropic influences of ELF on humans. It is not important if Wid ever finds any strict causal link between ELF and brainwaves -- which would be the scientific approach --, the work as such and the output it generates is interesting in itself (Wid generates plots of his measurements by using neural network software) and has a humanistic quality through the references that Wid makes in his Polihymnia concept.4 Recently at the Maxwell City workshop by Atelier Nord in Oslo, Martin Howse built strangely interesting looking devices which allow to measure electromagnetic waves in the high frequency spectrum from electricity lines in the environment and translating them into audio.5 Such unintentional leakage of em-waves happens all the time, on a small scale in our homes, and on a much larger one next to big overland power lines or electrified trainlines and tramways.6
After Hertz found out how to make and receive waves it would still take a long time for radio to find its 'form'. With form I mean the predominant type of social usage of radio waves combined with a specific technological appearance or, in German die apparative Form (apparatic form). Radio, as any mass medium, exists on two different layers, as an imaginary social signification and in its distinct appearance as a 'thing'. I use the term social imaginary significations as closely as possible in the way Cornelius Castoriadis proposes it. Conventionally there is a trivial meaning of imaginary which refers to 'existing in the imagination only'. Recently there has been a lot of hype around 'imaginary media' in this meaning of the word. For Castoriadis the social imaginary has a much deeper meaning as the source of social significations which become instituted in the world. Each individual contributes to and is affected by the collective imaginary. The imaginary consists of the whole of the mental life of people which comprises thought, desires and imagination in the classic sense. It is not congruent with the unconscious but taps also into it.1 In the early days of radio history those two things had not found together yet -- the science and technology of electromagnetic waves and radio as a social imaginary signification. Radio art needs to consider this fundamental categorical difference.
After Marconi, a race started to find other uses of radio rather than just telegraphy. Top of the list was wireless telephony -- appearantly at around 1905 nobody thought of radio as we know it now. The artist Paul DeMarinis (2006) created an installation for the Waves exhibition which uses a forgotten technology for speech transmission involving spark transmissions and a sort of microphone technology based on sulphuric acid. According to known history (unearthed by the artist himself) the technology was only used to make test transmissions between Rome and Tripoli which was then an Italian colony. Much more telling than the transmissions were themselves was the fact that the Tripoli side did not have a transmitter, only a receiver, thereby being exemplary for the relationship between Europe and North Africa at the time.2
As soon as radio waves had been put to work as carriers of transmissions the authorities sought to control this new power. The first international conference dealing with radio regulation in 1903 was initiated by the German Kaiser Wilhelm after an incident involving his brother, when his ship using equipment developed by Adolf Slaby could not communicate with the Marconi coastal station on the US shore. After that any excuse was being used to call for control of the airwaves, notably the sinking of the Titanic and the chaos that reigned in the airwaves during rescue attempts.3
With the tools of wireless experimentation becoming more available, in the United States of America a boom of do-it-yourself experimentation was allowed to happen. The comparison has been made before me that those radio amateurs were, in a way, the first 'hackers'. Similar to the way the hobbyists of the Homebrew Computer Club in California in the 1970ies triggered the development of the Personal Computer, radio amateurs pushed forward the exploration of the wirless medium.4 However, if we take on board this comparison between wireless amateurs and hackers, we will also have to deal with the baggage it comes with. On one hand the first decade of the 20th century in the US must have been a paradise of wireless hacking. Responding to an opinion piece in the New York Times which slammed amateurs for distracting the professionals, Hugo Gernsback wrote that there were "400,000 wireless experimenters and amateurs in the United States alone."5 In Gernsback's view the wireless amateurs "have done much to further the art in general, and many patents have been taken out during the last three years by such students interested in wireless." An interesting side-thread of this narration is that cable bound telegraphy amateurs had created their telegraphy community networks in suburbs. According to an article in the New York evening Post amateurs had created a cable bound community network in a village in New Jersey.6 Yet the class structure of American society meant that even among radio amateurs, sometimes presented as the 'real heroes' of the radio revolution, many came from wealthy backgrounds and were mostly white and male. The wireless hackers of the 1900s and society as a whole showed similar mechanisms of social exclusion which still affect hacking today (to the effect that there are fewer women in the informal hacker scene than in the world of official software development).http://earlyradiohistory.us/1920auto.htm)" href="#footnote7_63hy22n">7 Therefore I would be careful with narrations of radio history which glorify the US amateur scene. However, what I would like to propose is to see the early radio amateurs as transmission artists. In that way they are indeed similar to the latter day computer hackers. Like hackers their main interest is not so much the content of communications but getting the technology to work. The interest in technology is intrinsical. Thus, for a wireless 'hacker' making their own signals is of an intrinsic interest for which no further motivation is necessary. They were primarily concerned with "getting an antenna up"http://earlyradiohistory.us/1917verm.htm), cf. WHITE 2007." href="#footnote8_zzje029">8 and finding someone else who would respond. The act of transmitting, of sending and receiving signals itself is a new artform. The pioneers of the age of wireless engage with the properties of waves, such as the calculation of the wavelength and the right size of the antenna. I would like to differentiate this proposition from the idea that early radio amateurs were the first radio artists. They were not, they were pursuing a hobby and did not reference their activity in any way within an artistic, cultural context. Both comparisons, between Home Radio Amateurs (HAMs) as hackers and as radio artists have their limits. What I think is really important is that HAMs were making their own signals, their own transmissions.9 At the beginning there was the transmission and reception of waves by free consenting individuals. This gains heightened importance especially when considering the catastropic development that radio took after that short window of wireless utopianism between 1887 and 1914.
The prohibitions and regulations kicking in at WWI which should in a way never be lifted afterwards, only strengthened, would stop artists from making their own signals and therefore take away a great deal of autonomy from what 'radio artists' could do. The importance of making one's own signal is underpinned by the work of the Japanese artist Tetsuo Kogawa who, in the 1980ies, was the founder of a MiniFM movement of people building their own transceivers from cheap electronic parts. For the MiniFM activist the act of transmitting his or her own signal was a very intimate artistic expression where participants were communicating in a very direct way via the exchange of waves carrying energy. Those experiments took part in Tokyo in a highly controlled area where any commercial piracy was strictly impossible.1 The Austrian Artist Franz Xaver has been demanding a band of the spectrum for artists on shortwave radio for years now, so that artists could make global transmissions of their own without being in conflict with the commercial world.http://send.ung.at/)." href="#footnote2_no7ihe8">2 The Slovenian artist Marko Peljhan wants to launch his own communication satellite as part of a bigger project of creating artistic/scientific exploration centres on both poles of the earth.3 Both Peljhan's and Xaver's works make connections between radio and a concept of environmental and cultural/artistic sustainability and autonomy. In summary, I would like to propose that radio artists should be able to make their own transmissions if they wish to do so.4
In the years following WWI radio as we know it now found its form. How that exactly has happened, and which causalities existed, if any, which led to radio 'locking' in and "at a certain but arbitrary point of its development being wrested from the tranquility of the laboratory and turned into a public matter," remains rather mysterious (Ernst Schoen quoted by Walter Benjamin, p. 389). We can only say for sure that despite big differences in the way radio was socially organised in different countries, it settled to become a one-way communication medium whereby radio programmes were transmitted from the centre to the listeners. During the 'hot' peace of the 1920ies radio became the medium of mass mobilisation. Mobilisation can take on very different meanings in this context. In Paul Virilio's interpretation, radio is one among a number of media which all have a mobilizing effect on individuals as well as society as a whole. Modernity is a process of accelleration, societies become hooked on speed and with this process modes of perception change, which has a profound effect on culture on all levels, including the individual mental and psychological faculties.5 In the 1920ies radio mobileses by disseminating jazz and causing the ensuing mobility of humans on the dancefloor. The 'roaring twenties' in the US bring a mobilisation of the masses through the introduction of the assembly line by Henry Ford and the mass production of affordable cars. And, last not least, radio shows its potential for political mobilisation and as a tactical tool of coordination in, for example, urban civil unrest. In the newly mobile societies of the 1920ies radio waves travelling with the speed of light made it the ultimate medium for the new mobile culture. As capitalism had segregated village communities and driven them into the cities where everybody became part of a faceless proletarian mass, radio had an important function in maintaining a cultural life and proliferating a degree of social cohesion. Radio became a 'systemic' force without which a motorised and highly mobile society would probably have faced cultural implosion.6
The excesses of speed and the emergence of a mass consumer society with its corresponding mediascape were overshadowed by the rise of fascism in Japan and Europe. The gravest challenge of the early 20th century was the "increasing proletarisation of the people and the formation of masses, which are two sides of the same process."1 The rapid progress of technologies at the beginning of the century had increased the power of the productive forces while the ownership structures had been conserved.2 This created a pressure cooker society where "the increase in the productive forces through technological progress is pushing towards an unnatural release, which is war. War becomes evidence that society had not been mature enough for the technological means it had at hands."3 According to Benjamin, fascism tried to organise the masses without changing the existing ownership structures. It gave the masses a way of expressing themselves as a politicised mass but within a conservative political economy. "Fascism, therefore, amounted to an aestheticisation of political life. The abuse of the masses which are forced to the ground in the cult of the Führer, is equivalent to the abuse of an apparatus which has been put to service for the creation of cult values."4 This effort, Benjamin continues, can only have one result, which is war. "Speaking from the position of the technology only war is capable of mobilising the full technological potential of an era while conserving at the same time the ownership structures." The new media radio and film are complicit in the creation of the masses.5
Although radio played hardly any role in the rise of the Nazis to power before 1933, due to the heavily regulated and artificially apolitical character of German radio, the Nazis were quick to unleash the full potential of new media once they had seized power through 'democratic' elections. In the 1920ies and 1930ies more and more countries fell into the hands of fascist regimes while Stalin tightened his grip on the Sovietunion. Radio became the medium of choice for the dictators as it allowed them to address the nation as a unified mass, together, yet isolated as individuals or families in front of the apparatus. In a seminal artwork by Paul De Marinis, Firebirds (2004), he puts the voices of Hitler, Stalin, Mussolini and Roosevelt into birdcages. The speeches are transmitted by gas flames modulated by electric fields, a technique which was used in the early 20th century before the invention of loudspeakers. DeMarinis' work both ridicules the dictator as well as it is able to recall the overwhelming power those voices had over people who were turned into a mass by the force field of the electrified aether.
With an accute sense of urgency the leftwing playwright Bertolt Brecht and the media theorist Walter Benjamin tried to formulate an emancipatory and anti-fascist artistic theory and practice. When fascism, according to Benjamin, amounted to an aestheticisation of politics, revolutionary communism was engaged in the politicisation of the arts.1 Brecht and Benjamin (and also some of the Russian Futurists) mark the starting point of a participative paradigm in art which aims at using technical media in an emancipatory way. It has taken a long time, many technical innovations and social change up till today for this paradigm to come into full bloom (see later in this text). In a few short texts, summarized under the term Brecht's Radio Theory, Brecht stated that radio had been crippled by leaving only the receiver for the general public. Brecht demanded that every receiver should potentially also be a transmitter. Radio should not isolate people but set them into relation to each other.2
In 1934 in exile in Paris Walter Benjamin gave a speech at the Institute For the Study of Fascism, published under the title The Author as Producer.3 Here, Benjamin looked at the position of leftist writers vis-a-vis society. In anticipation of the critique of the culture industry by the Frankfurt School, he reminded of the capacity of the culture industry dominated by the bourgeois to assimilate and coopt progressive or even revolutionary content. He stated that it was wrong to ask how progressive the work itself was or how it related to the power structures of society -- Marx' relationship of the means of production. It was more important, according to Benjamin, to ask how a work functions within the relationship of the means of literary production.4
Benjamin demanded that the author shouldn't just produce for the literary system, and that he needed to actively seek to change it, to introduce new forms of production and new instruments. Therefore the poet needed to use the 'lowly' medium of the press to seek engagement and further participation of the many in the process of writing and reading. The author as producer was expected to work towards removing the barriers between writers and readers. Benjamin also stated that a constant 'remelting' of cultural and literary forms happened, whereby 'class struggle dictated the temperature' of this process.5 Benjamin was convinced that technique facilitated the invention of new cultural formats and that yet unimaginable new cultural forms would emerge from the combination of social change triggered by class struggle and new technologies being applied creatively by progressive artists. The same artistic programme or behavioural guideline is also embodied in the following quote by Brecht:
"It is not our job," Brecht wrote, "to renew the ideological Basis of the existing social order through innovations, but to make it give up its basis through our innovations. [...] Through continuous, never ending proprosals how to better use the apparatuses in the interest of the general public we have to shake up the social Basis of those apparatuses, and to discredit their use in the interest of the few."6
In The Structural Transformation of the Public Sphere Jürgen Habermas (1962/1990) gives a historic account of the formation of the public sphere and its decline. There he argues that in the feudal system, while public events did happen, they were merely of a representational character. Everybody was present, but in a representational capacity only, there was no public discourse, no difference of opinion was allowed and all actual power was centralized in the institution of the souvereign/monarch. The events of public life followed a strict ceremonial protocol. The rise of the bourgeois as a political class was intricately linked with the emergence of a public life characterized by rational debate, the raisonnement of the educated liberal middle class man. The century of liberalism, which Habermas somehow dates between 1780 and 1880, was characterized by the high quality of rational discussion between free individuals. However, this was restricted to males of the capital owning middle class, with very few woman and people from other classes able to participate. By the beginning of the 1960ies in Western European countries class struggle had by and large subsided and been replaced by a postwar consensus that guaranteed a state of frozen peace with increasing levels of prosperity shared more equally in society. While the newspapers, in particular mass circulation daily papers were owned by 'press barons' (a figure immortalized by Citizen Kane, but one which had existed since the 1880ies and the fast rotating press and lithography) electronic media radio and TV were state regulated to prevent any form of leftwing or rightwing extremism.1 In other words, by the beginning of the 1960ies the public as presented by mass media had become representational again, a 'spectacle' as opposed to an open public sphere where a rational debate happened which would not only be critical but also relevant for actual politics. The powers to be had been able to isolate themselves from any real political debate by holding the mass of voters as a captive audience in front of a TV screen which presented a manipulated worldview -- a situation which should only deteriorate from then on till today.
Into this situation of the Frozen Peace of the early 1960ies broke the New Left, a hotchpotch mix of non-orthodox Marxist splinter groups, the free speech movement, various civil rights and minority issue movements and the Anti-Vietnam movement, culminating in the Summer of Love in San Francisco 1967 and the student revolt of May 1968. These groups advocated grassroots participatory democracy or so called self-organisation and practiced a type of media use which was equivalent to their political ideas. Everybody should in principle also be a publisher, a radio journalist, a critique, a columnist or reviewer, in short, a producer. A participatory grassroots model for electronic media was applied by community media activists such as Deedee Halleck (2002) or the student radio during the revolutionary days in Berkeley, and later by the free radio movement in Europe.2
The poet Hans Magnus Enzensberger became the media theorist for this newly emerging paradigm of participatory media. Going back to Brecht and Benjamin he reitereated some of their demands, like the one that electronic media should be turned from a distribution medium into a communication medium. But he not only echoed some of the concerns of Brecht and Benjamin, he also updated them. According to Enzensberger, "the technical distinction between receivers and transmitters reflects the social division of labor into producers and consumers, which in the consciousness industry becomes of particular political importance." (Enzensberger 1970/1996, p. 64) He scolded the New Left for having reduced its criticism of the "development of the media to a single concept -- that of manipulation," yet agreed that "the present concept of manipulation [...] reflected the feeling of powerlessness of the Left and the objective reality that "the decisive means of production are in the enemies hands". (my emphasis) Like Benjamin and Brecht, Enzensberger believed into the emancipatory power of new media. But, shaped by the postwar experience and the rise of electronic consumer goods, he added some important qualifications. According to Enzensberger the decisive point about media was their collective structure. "For the prospect that in the future, with the aid of the media, everyone can become a producer, would remain apolitical and limited were this productive effort find an outlet in individual tinkering. Work on the media is possible for an individual only insofar as it remains socially and therefore aesthetically irrelevant. The collection of transparencies from the last holiday trip provides a model of this." (Ibid, p. 70) He went on to say that this was what the market was already aiming at. Many people were already owning Super 8 cameras and tape recorders but they could become at best "amateurs, not producers."3 Even the radio amateur movement had been tamed and reduced to a "harmless inconsequential hobby in the hands of scattered amateurs." (Ibid) Enzensberger's description of the chances offered by participatory media but also the danger of them becoming politically toothless by being kept within the confinement of amateurism or hobbyism were of an almost prophetic quality. Enzensberger also distanced himself from media determinism in the style of McLuhan and his many followers:
Anyone who believes that freedom for the media will be established if everyone is busy, transmitting and receiving, is the dupe of a liberalism, that, decked out in contemporary colours, merely peddles the faded concepts of a preordained harmony of social interests. (Ibid)
Enzensberger stressed that this was the point where "socialist concepts part company with the neoliberal and technocratic ones." No one can expect to be "emancipated by technological hardware, or by a system of hardware." To think like that would mean to fall "victim of an obscur belief in progress." (Ibid) This thesis is distilled into the dialectical formula that the "...the media demands organisation and makes it possible..." (Ibid) Enzensberger would like to see the "socialist movements take up the struggle for their own wavelengths." They should, he continues, "build their own transmitters and relay stations."4 (Ibid, p. 70) Enzensberger bemoans the fact that the "innate Luddism of Marxism has left a vacuum into which a stream of non-Marxist hypothesis and practices has consequently flowed." According to him the 'innocent' and the 'apolitical' had made "much more radical progress in dealing with the media than any grouping of the left." From Warhol's Factory to the Beatles and the Stones Enzensberger still saw an emancipatory potential in what was then underground rock culture, but also the multimedia art of the time as practiced by Pop Art.
Only 10 years later, in 1980, the post-hippie rock industry had become one of the repressive aspects of capitalism's media machine. The democratic 'spectacle' had been enhanced by modern subconscious manipulation techniques derived from advertisement, the rise of 'telegenic' politicians such as Reagan to power and new techniques of opinion polling. In the early 1980ies centrist German political parties had reached a compromise over the liberalisation of democratic media. The deal foresaw the running of privately owned radio and TV in post-war West Germany for the first time. In exchange for that the left got so called Open Channels, something like a state sponsored (albeit on low level) community or citizen TV and radio. But those Open Channels were structured in such a way that they did not offer any real opportunity for dissenting voices and a different aesthetics. Apart from the positive aspect that some ethnic minorities gained access to a window into the media landscape the programmes only illustrated Enzensberger's dictum that, "the programs that the isolated amateurs mount are always only bad, outdated copies of what he in any case receives." (Enzensberger 1970/1996, p.71)
In 1985 I started to work as a media artist and I was at the same time writing a lot of poetry and fiction. In one of the fragments that I wrote at the time I formulated my criticism of the media landscape of the mid 1980ies. In that story fragment the media mainstream consisted of a state-business duopoly which exerted a near total mind control on the people. It was fought by two underground guerrilla media outfits. One was called Radio Subcom, a mobile radio station which broadcast counter-propaganda -- all the things the mainstream didn't want you to know; the other outfit was the much more radical and secretive O.T. (untitled). The name was the message. O.T. would not get involved with counter propaganda. It's only message was the black screen, it's only aim was to disrupt the broadcasts of the media mainstream in the hope that any prolonged black-out of the 'system-media' could trigger a revolution. As time would show, the more reformist agenda of Radio Subcom would survive (and maybe get compromised) whereas O.T. just vanished.
At that time I started working with the musician Urs Blaser alias Oil Blo and the graphic artist Antonia Neubacher. In 1986/87 Oil Blo converted an old Mercedes Hanomag into a mobile platform for media practice. The loading bay of the small truck got seperated into two parts. The back part remained loading bay and was carrying our special PA sound system. In the small middle compartment he installed a system of instrument racks which housed a small audiovisual studio. It had just enough space for a small video editing suite on Sony Betamax, an Atari, a mixer, some special effect machines and two skinny artists. Blaser's van became the physical hardware structure for the fictitional Radio Subcom. Thus, Neubacher designed a text based logo which was written in big white letters from bottom to top on one of the sides of the van. From then on Blaser, Neubacher and me formed the core of Subcom which could, for bigger projects, expand to up to 30 people.
With this van we travelled the roads of Europe as, what I would call in hindsight, a mobile tactical media unit. We saw ourselves as an interface mediating between the European underground and subcultural movements and the bourgeois media avantgarde sometimes also called media art. We declared that we intended to bring an 'artistic dimension' to the new paradigm of information. "Networking, co-ordination, the immaterial art of communication, the qualitative improvement of the stream of data" were our explicit goals (Subcom Dossier, 1988). Our early work between 1987 and 1988 had been dominated by a remix aesthetics. The sound sample, or what we called the 'cliché' was at the centre of our work. We understood the media mainstream as a totally reified and alienating environment. So we took samples from it and thought that by cutting it up and remixing and recontextualizing it we gave it new meaning.
But after our mobilisation through the van a new way of working emerged. Our idea about mobility was not influenced by romantic notions of the postmodern intellectual as a nomad. It was more practical, about being able to be mobile and to keep being able to be a fully functioning media unit. We could go around places, make field recordings, and then settle down somewhere for a couple of weeks to produce radio programmes which we distributed via pirates and legal free radio stations in Europe such as Radio 100 in Amsterdam, Radio 100 Berlin, Radio Lora, Radio Dreyeckland. We could also drive onto a derelict industrial estate or a squat or a social centre, unpack the sound system, put up the video projector and make an audiovisual performance, or a party, or both, within a few hours of arriving.
Moving around Europe with the slow pace of the old truck from squat to arts festival and back again, allowed us to experience the deep transformation of the political and social life of Europe from the sharp end. Around that time the mainstream media narration was about the transformation from an industrial society to an information society. But under this pre-text the power elites were trying to squash alternative and autonomous political movements. The spectre of RAF terrorism was used to clamp down on politically active scenes in Germany. The context, as we understood it then, was that the creation of the European Union was equal to building a corporate Europe, cleaned up, where the politically undesireable had either been locked up or made to hyde. This was the time, leading up to the Maastricht Treatment, when under our eyes fortress Europe became a reality. Travelling with a battered old van allowed us to gain insights into layers of those emerging control structures which we otherwise wouldn't have had.1
As by the end of the 1980ies the last 'open living spaces where alternative life styles could be tried out,' were closed down or battled for survival, the van was in a way like a sensor/probe, picking up the political movements of the day on the street level. The postmodern vagueness of the mid-80ies gave way to a new political clarity about the sharp divisions that were created in the New Europe. Moving around, recording and transporting messages from place to place was what we called 'physical networking'. Part of that was also to look for collaboration partners within the cultural avantgarde of the squatters and underground movements.
In 1987 we were introduced to Heidi Grundmann. In 1988 she commissioned us together with Julie Lazar from MOMA L.A. to produce our first radio art piece "Europe Report 1". The work was the synthesis of the mobile life-style and a new concept inspired by it. The remixing agenda was pushed to the background and we developed the concept of 'authentic' recordings as opposed to media clichés. In Europe Report I we painted a scenario where the fictitional New European Security Forces in their Star Wars uniforms cleansed the streets while bio-fuel trains glided noiselessly through the large business innnovation park that Europe had become. Europe Report 2 In Between Cities was based on a two-week stay in a Milan Squat where we got much more aware of the urgency of the immigration question with hundreds of people Sans Papiers at the time squatting churches in Paris and council buildings in Milan which were then arsoned. Berlusconi media fuelled hatred of immigrants and then somebody put the actual fuel and lit it. The middle class and the mainstream media had successfully isolated themselves from such events and it was the role of underground media like Subcom to carry that message. We were an Indymedia before the time.
Our goal was to create a living archive of authentic recordings as a source for real-time composition. The idea was to have a digital database with our recordings, sliced into digestable pieces, annotated and key-worded, so that it would be easy to use and draw on for making programmes. Establishing such a framework for long term archiving as a tool for real-time editing and composition was a major conceptual project, and more important to us than the individual programmes which we produced. It was related to our understanding that real radio art could never be satisfied with having a slot on state sponsored media, however benevolent the editor, but must, conceptually at least, always seek to create models for autonomous free radio stations.
Under this headline message we shared some other concerns which were of a more particularly aesthetic nature. Subcom tried to create a new radio aesthetics by experimenting with a mix of low- and hi-tech. We firmly believed that it was better to work with technology which we knew and controlled rather than high tech which was beyond our means. This was partly a political argument about DIY technology, partly stemming from aesthetic concerns ablout craftmanship. We thought that an artist needed to be able to control the means of production and know them from the inside out. Thus, Blo built his amplification and speaker system himself, using old valve amplifiers and self-built speakers. This low-tech approach was matched by the early use of DAT technology and binaural microphones which allowed us to go into micro sound and stealth recording (using the earphone microphones and a small DAT hidden in a holster inside a jacket). Another important part of Subcom's radio philosophy was that we considered ourselves to be sonic environmentalists who tried to counter the pollution of the acoustic environment by traffic and the mass media.
At around 1991 we started our own mailbox with the help of a computer security expert from Frankfurt. We had developed a system that could be accessed via Atari Portfolio computer, an early breast pocket size computer for which an obscure Dutch company produced an acoustic coupler. With the bus we did what we called physical networking. The mailbox allowed Subcom agents to roam Europe and phone in reports from public phone boxes with acoustic couplers and the Portfolio. At that time we also had added an Amiga for real-time computer graphics and we used it for VJ-ing at free squatter parties as well as art events. We had created ourselves a working situation in which we owned and controlled most of the tools of production and we combined those to weave together physical/analogue and digital networks. Not content with this at around 1992 we got very ambitious and started project Stubnitz art-space-ship which became an entire story of its own. Subcom somehow melted into the Stubnitz and ceased to exist 1993.
The 20th century can be understood along the lines of a process of democratization of access to media and the means of cultural production. Things that originally were the privilege of social elites only became accessible for a much greater number of people. At the beginning of the 20th century access to education and knowledge was restricted as well as access to high culture. People from lower income classes had insufficient means of participating in the democratic process because they were either not allowed to vote or they did not have an opportunity to get an informed opinion. The socialist and social democrat movements in the 1920s tried to change that. After WWII radio facilitated free access to cultural goods, and, as this progressively increased through miniaturization and the introduction of the transistor in the 1960ies and 1970ies pop and rock radio democratized the means of cultural hedonism. In a parallel development people also started to get access to the means of cultural production1 -- starting with Super 8 film cameras, small film photography, cassette machines and the first portable video machines. However, what is eerie is that each of those steps of democratisation of access which at a different point would have meant a real revolution -- a significant change of social relationships which inevitably would have implied a political revolution and not only one of the communication media -- was always absorbed by the capitalist system. I do not propose to construct this as a rule of the form that media revolutions were only allowed to happen once society was ready to absorb them. To say that would be defeatist. But I want to point this out as a warning to those who too enthusiastically project political hopes into improvements of the configuration of the media. In the 1980ies with Subcom we thought that once we had access to the means of production we -- whereby I refer to a collective we of underground media producers -- could have a significant impact on the media landscape. We found that not to be true and that, on the contrary, we were lacking a distribution medium and on top of that accessible free spaces for cultural self-organisation were breaking away.2
In the late 1970ies, early 1980ies the home computer made its debut. Rather than just being one medium it promised to be a meta-medium, a freely programmable machine which could be used to build other 'machines' -- tools, instruments, media systems. The computer could be a printing press, a desktop typesetting studio, a graphic layout studio, a sound studio, a film/video studio and it could be combinations and crossovers of such things. Media convergence was looming. Despite the appearance of early BBS systems in the 1980ies, what was still missing was access to the means of dissemination. This arrived with the internet.
As the internet started to open up for public use in the early 1990ies it was welcomed by many people and groups from a broad spectrum who all belonged to counter- and subcultural movements who finally saw their moment coming. Distribution was what everybody had been lacking. The fanzine culture of the 1980ies, the community media groups working with radio and video, many of them saw a chance of finally getting their own channels. However, there remained a number of problems. While the internet was fairly open from 1993 onwards, bandwidth remained the bottleneck. Another problem was the software. In order to stream audio and video a codec is needed. The only available software to do that was proprietary. The 'player' software for a person to listen to an audio stream was free, but the producer software and the server cost money. Despite those limitations in the 1990ies many media activists settled on the net and a thriving culture of online forums, discussion groups, live streaming events and online magazines quickly originated. This was matched by a culture of real life meetings. It was not just enough to communicate online, it was important to meet in real space, to make friends, to learn together, to discuss strategies and projects.3
For the first time in history there existed the real possibility of a full on participatory, interactive and decentralized media paradigm to become the dominant model.4 There were problems and bottle necks but there were no more real barriers to a participatory media practice as Brecht, Benjamin and Enzensberger had imagined it. One important focal point of this energy were the Next 5 Minutes conferences in Amsterdam in 1993, 1996 and 1999.5 The decentralized, participatory and interactive media utopia had become real. However, what it could not do, was change the economic basis. On the contrary, the internet was instrumentalized to prop up an already fading neoliberalism. A strange alliance of US post-Hippie techno entrepreneurs and neoliberals drove the 'digital revolution' through media such as Wired magazine and boasted about the superior model of private enterprise, epitomised in the culture of networks of small companies financed by venture capital. By 1996, when Netscape went to the stock exchange and made billions, it was clear that a veritable boom was under way. The internet boom was ideologically and propagandistically used by the Clinton administration as evidence that the US system of a particular mix of market economy and democracy was the most inventive one in the world. US style neoliberalism became the model for social change, which was unanimously accepted to be the way to go by most countries.6
At the same time the internet became also the means of political organisation for a very scattered and fragmented opposition which included all sorts of people, from the party anarchists of Reclaim The Streets to the Zapatistas in Chiapas, to trade unionists in Latin America and the more middle class Attac people in Europe. The potential of the internet as a platform for political organisation was highlighted by two powerful protest events, by June 18 1999 in London and by 'Seattle' later that same year, which brought all those people togaether and showed that the new 'movement without leaders and an ideology' could achieve critical mass. Highly decentralized participatory grassroots organisations had found with the internet an equally decentralized and participatory medium. Another important aspect had more drirectly to do with the technology and its form of social production. Key technologies of the internet were produced through a methodology which became known as 'peer based commons production' (Stalder 2005). Since 1984 the Free Software Foundation led by Richard Stallman had been fighting what was at first a rather lonely struggle for Free Software. Believing that all software should be free, free to use, free to inspect and modify and free to give away again, the FSF had developed a licence model, the General Public Licence which enshrined those freedoms. It also set out to create a completely free operating system which it called GNU. But first it had to go through the arduous task of wrighting tools to make tools, an editor (Emacs), a compiler (gcc) and many other useful bits and pieces. So, when in 1991 the Finnish computer studend Linus Torvalds used those tools to write the operating System Linux, it was only natural for him to publish it under the GPL. The combination of the GPL, the GNU tools, Linux and the internet enabled software developers all around the world to collaborate on complex software projects without the need for a company structure or expensive computer labs. This extraordinarly successful 'bazar model' was eagerly adopted not only by the mainstream of open source developers who considered themselves to be 'apolitical' but also by hacker-activists with a politicized worldview. The licence model of the GPL helped to further a collaborative production method between equals or peers with the result of their labour becoming public goods -- which is the essence of peer based commons production.
Hackers driven by social motivations and sometimes loosely, sometimes more closely aligned with the new global opposition movement used this methodology to satisfy Benjamin's demand that 'authors' work towards the facilitation of cultural and political self expression of the general public. Illustrating the 'collective' aspect that Enzensberger has emphasised this new culture thrives around open hacklabs where people can meet, collaborate, exchange ideas. Since the 1990ies this political netculture scene has been growing and expanding. It is like a matrix from which continually exciting new projects emerge.7
The Italian computer hacker and artist Denis Jaromil Rojo is the lead developer of Dyne:bolic, a customized Linux distribution and Live CD optimized for cultural production in general and radio in particular. His initial idea was to create a 'nomadic' radio station which would move from server to server and thereby evade any attempts of control. With the Dynebolic Live CD almost any computer can be turned within minutes form a boring office machine into a net radio studio for production and dissemination. Particular attention has been given by the developers to the system being able to work on old machines with low processor speed and on bad internet connections -- the quality of the stream adapts to the quality of the internet connection.http://dyne.org/ last accessed August 2007." href="#footnote8_04h8qnq">8
The processing of audio signals has been revolutionized by the software Pure Data.http://puredata.info/ last accessed August 2007." href="#footnote9_fktfopg">9 Its inventor Miller Puckette has deep roots in the electroacoustic music scene. The software which he wrote consists of a graphical toolbox to model acoustic events inside the computer -- sine wave generators, oscillators, amplifications, filters and effects. Every conceivable sonic machine or instrument can be built through a combination of those simple elements. Pure Data is much more than an instrument or tool in any conventional sense, it is a meta level tool which is based on deep knowledge of electroacoustics and the science of waves. It is also open and extendable. Users of the software can swap the 'patches' they have written (tools which they constructed) while expert progranmmers can write extensions to the software, so called 'externals' in the programming language C. Those properties make Pure Data particularly popular among sound artists and radio artists such as Martin Howse/xxxxx,http://1010.co.uk/ last accessed August 2007." href="#footnote10_zl48z4e">10 Yves Degoyon, Ramiro Cosentino, Tatiana De La O, and many others, who use Pure Data in very unconventional ways to create live streaming environments for radio art improvisationshttp://r23.cc/interface/ last accessed August 2007." href="#footnote11_wd72pgp">11 and live art.
Examples could go on almost endlessly, with content management systems of a new generation such as Drupal, which facilitates the creation of 'social media' such as online magazines, podcasts, blogs and fora, or Puredyne, which combines Dynebolic and PureData, and the free streaming media environment Shoutcast. In addition to that free software and the bazar model of creativity is also used for artistic projects such as the work of the group Mongrelhttp://www.mongrel.org.uk/ last accessed August 2007." href="#footnote12_23n1wwx">12 with projects like 9Nine, an internet platform for the formulation of digital subjectivity, and Telephone Trottoir, a communication system for the Congolese community in London using Voice-over-IP (Internet telephony). The exact border definition between artist and engineer become difficult when artists become engineers of social media platforms and programmers create artful tools.http://interrupt.org.uk/symposia/engineer/ last accessed August 2007." href="#footnote13_c0eijyn">13
A process underpinning this development is that the capacity of communication technologies increases while at the same time they get ever cheaper. Often falsely attributed to Moore's law alone, this has to do as much with technical innovation as with the exploitation of cheap labour in China and other rapidly industrializing economies. However, the outcome is that consumers worldwide can buy cheap electronic goods with ever higher processor speeds and more memory.
Radio is making a comeback with wireless data networks. Technically that means that receiving and transmitting EM waves can now be controlled by computers in very efficient and inventive ways such as spread spectrum and frequency hopping technologies. This is the basis of a variety of wireless data network technologies for different purposes and in different bands of the EM spectrum, from Wireless Local Area Networks (WLAN) to 3rd Generation mobile telephony networks and protocols for short distance communication such as bluetooth. The combination of wireless transmissions and computer technologies opens up a wide variety of possibilities, both technically and socially.14 Since around 2000 a movement has started, first in cities such as London, New York, Seattle, to build wireless community networks using WLAN, an idea quickly picked up by people in Berlin, Madrid, Athens, Jakarta and many other places worldwide. These networks are created by the people in a collaborative effort without central command and control; those network infrastructures are communally owned and based on conventions of free traffic of information so that those independent network infrastructures form a Network Commons. A range of projects in London around the free network provider Free2air.org have shown the potential of free wireless infrastructures for art whereby some of those projects have been carried out in collaboration with conventional radio stations such as Resonance.fm, Radio Fro and Radio Cycle.15
While the old order controls the mass media, the oil and the weapons, so that those things are still in the hands of the enemy so to speak, the dissenting unorthodox left is not just owning the means of production, it is actually producing them and thereby shaping the course of future technological development. As Bert Brecht has imagined, this has the potential to unspin the capitalist system from within. Just as he said, the continuous, never ending production of new apparatuses (and not just proposals as to their uses) in the interest of the general public shakes up the social Basis of those apparatuses. The commons based peer production makes technologic development autonomous from the dictate of capital and puts the decision about what to produce into the hands of the programmers themselves.
Yet we need to be careful about predictions of the imminent end of capitalism. It is an interesting notion that, as Marx said, capitalism will be happy to produce the shovels needed to dig its own grave. Those shovels could well turn out to be computers and cabled bound and wireless network technologies. At the same time mass media are are keeping a corrosive grip on people's imagination. Capitalism is now promoting its own version of the participatory media paradigm. A new internet boom has started since 2 or 3 years which uses many of the tools and ideas created by the free netculture movement and sells it back to the masses as an achievement of venture capital driven innovation. So called Web 2.0 or social software platforms such as YouTube, Myspace, Facebook, Flickr, are the most prominent examples of a new industry which threatens a new enclosure movement. First, in the attention economy of the mainstream media we hear a lot about those but nothing about this other world of free software which has created the conditions for those venture capital funded network platforms to grow. Secondly, also free and open source software programmers live within a capitalist economy which forces them to earn money. A process of buying up scores of key people form free software projects to work on those proprietary projects can already be observed. And last not least the copyright industry is trying to clamp down on the free exchange of information and is trying to cripple the hardware architecture of computers and the inner working of the net in order to install global copy protection schemes. Finally, the paranoid militant nation state is seeing it as its good right to install surveillance architectures to monitor the global flows of information.
We live in an extraordinary time when the democratic cornucopia of media is very close to becoming reality and where there are hardly any technical barriers, and if there are the free software community will be capable of solving them. Yet the power elites have already found ways of either subverting that and subverting the creative impulse and the desire of the people, or they are simply moving the goalposts by reminding us that they have naked force on their side.
Regarding radio, the interesting effect is that after 100 years the medium is now in the process of dissolution. Radio can now be produced through software suites such as dyne:bolic by a 15 year old kid alone at home in Ramallah or Bangalore. The apparatic form and radio as a social imaginary signification are drifting apart again. The assemblage of studio-transmitter-receiver is, while still existing, a technically highly obsolescent model. While the technically overdeveloped countries switch to Digital Audio Broadcast (notable the absence of radio in that acronym) old fashioned radio is still relevant in underdeveloped countries and for cash poor community radio activists. However, 'radio' can now have so many different appearances, it can be sent and received on the internet as a live-stream, it can be downloaded as a podcast and listened to on an MP3 player, on the mobile phone or via digital radio in the car. In particular the ubiquituousness of mobile phones, where each mobile is actually a full blown computer plus two-way radio transceiver, and the eagerness of mobile phone companies to open new revenue streams can be expected to generate new formats of distribution of audio 'content'. The use of the word radio in this context is increasingly feeling nostalgic. However, I am not predicting the imminent death of radio either. As we all know media and art forms pronounced dead live longer. All that I am saying is that the social imaginary signification of radio is opening up and separating itself from a fixed association with any given apparatic form. What radio is or will be is completely up for grabs. It is quite unlikely that radio will be in the future like what some private commercial stations have become (and what unfortunately is imitated by public radio) -- an audio jukebox which plays a continuous stream of music. With blogging, audio blogging, live streaming projects blossoming around the world, it is also unclear if radio will have a future as a top down journalistic news medium. Through the net and the general process of convergence, corrosion and dissolution of media a lot of hybrid interactive and participative forms can be realized, in principle.
As we have reached a stage where technically everything seems possible, it is once more time for artists to formulate an utopian potential of radio which goes beyond the status quo. The big problem that we have politically is that of the technologically developed mass society which is characterised by a high dependency on large buerocratic and technological systems which can neither be easily changed nor turned off. (Marcuse 1964) Those life support systems sustain biological life now without being sustainable in the long term. However, the functioning of the system and the possibility of leading a relatively easy life for the majority of people in highly developed countries have made real politics in those countries almost impossible. Politics has been replaced by biopolitics. (Agamben 2002) Thus, the old idea that the public domain is a political battleground about people's support for competing systems is dead, as there are no competing systems (or the differences are quite marginal). Meanwhile the masses enjoy oscillations of 'individuality' along the axis of a very wide and deep reaching conformity. The idea that counter-cultural or subcultural media can alter people's consciousness and so lead out of that dilemma is not an answer anymore. What progressive artists maybe can do is to abandon that battle field that was traditionally seen as content and focus on unravelling the system from within by conducting a more rigorous analysis of those systems and finding ways of using their properties against them. While the focus on new tools and instruments that dominated the first decade of the internet was a necessary step, now it is maybe time for more radical DIY strategies which do not only focus on the advanced tools and concepts of the free software scene but on the ways those tools are socially embedded and collectively used. New 'grow your own' strategies must not approach media and communication technology in an isolated way but in connection to other systems including energy, food, learning, health and what Nick Dyer-Witheford calls in relation to the early Marx conviviality.1 Translated onto radio this could mean that it becomes even more important that artists claim the right to make their own signals and transmissions and create polymorphic as well as autonomous media structures, online, offline, cabled-bound and wireless. My personal conclusion is that I am going back to the childhood days and become again a listener to voices in the aether. I belief that one particular quality of radio which could give it longevity as a medium beyond the lifespan of its apparatic form is voice -- that what lies between the meaning of biologically having a voice and finding a political voice, the aural qualities of human voices and their relationship to mental faculties and the project of emancipation which is still waiting to be fulfilled.
The Culture of Open Sources is a study of the creative methodologies of Free and Open Source Software developers who either write code for creative applications or support artistic and social goals as sysadmins. This research is based on qualitative research with about 20 developers so far with whom long biographic and interviews have been conducted. For those interviews as set of 10 questions was used which had subquestions and were about youth and early formative years, learning, motivation, contact with Linux, ideas about political software development and the possibility to have an impact on 'creative developments' of societies through writing software.
Denis 'Jaromil' Roio is the main author of the GNU/Linux Live CD Dyne:bolic as well as of a number of audiovisual tools. He is also an artist who has been part of international exhibitions such as CODeDOC II by the Whitney Museum Artport and speaker on conferences such as Ars Electronica. Inspired by Richard Stallman's "free as in free speech" approach as well as liberatory politics, Jaromil seeks to transgress borders between art and code, social activism and research and development. This text is an introduction and overview about Jaromil's life and ideas, based on an interview conducted in June 2006 in Amsterdam. At the taxi-to-praxi research workshop on 21st of April he talked about Solid Knowledge.
Denis 'Jaromil' Roio grew up in Pescara in Italy. His family roots go back to Napoli and he is happy to explain everybody how to dance the Tarantella. His parents had a computer shop and he started his career, like so many, by playing games, and then by trying to remove the copy protection from games and last not least by trying to write his own games. At a quite early age he acquired significant computer skills and was participating in the Italian anarchist BBS scene through Cybernet which was particularly active in the early nineties, before the Italian mailbox crackdown1. Although not personally affected by the police raids which shut down dozens of BBS's, this incident may have been of an early formative quality. A newly introduced copyright law made public domain software illegal and gave the pretext for shutting down BBS systems which often circulated absolutely legitimate information -- concerns of civil society about violence against migrants for instance - things which were supressed in the right wing Italian media landscape which was already in the grip of Berlusconi.2
Audio Link: Jaromil: My Parents had a computer shop
Through a friend, Tony Mobily, a very colourful character, programmer, novelist and classic dancer, he was introduced to the GNU/Linux operating system at a time when GNU/Linux was still very difficult to install and run on computers. Like in similar instances3, his first impression was of an aesthetic quality4: he noticed the "funky fonts" which you could not have with DOS. Jaromil switched to GNU/Linux and enjoyed, amongst other things, the networking functions of GNU/Linux which were by far superior to Windows at the time when frequent error messages about "Winsock.dll" made networking life a misery for everybody. Jaromil went to a Lyceum which taught classical literature. He got interested in antique philosophers and authors and is generally a quite well read person with influences ranging from Pynchon to Debord and Ovid. At the same time he was politicised early on. His 'slightly hippie' politics, he said, were developed before he got deeper into computers. At that time, somehow between end of school and university, there may have been a kind of double crisis, a financial situation affecting his parents, as well as a personal crisis, so that he spent some time on the countryside with a Commune. Then, to solve his financial problems he got a programming job at a bank. Through this job he realised that his computing skills were 'worth something' and he began to put them to a social use.5
Audio Link: Jaromil: This is not DOS
Audio Link: Jaromil: Programming for a political purpose
Audio Link: Jaromil I am a revolutionary
Jaromil is driven by a deep egalitarian ethos. His motivation to start a programming project is triggered often by the perception of social injustice: "I see an injustice and I feel the need to do something". From the very early days onwards his goal was to develop tools for people to express themselves. This is also explicitely motivated by the distortions which according to Jaromil media "czars" such as Berlusconi cause to the democratic system. As is well established in normative literature about the functioning of democracy, media freedom is important for democracy in a number of ways; it allows citizens to form an opinion based on facts about the social political systems and it allows, in principle, everybody to have a voice and contribute to the public debate. Through the concentration of media ownership in a few hands in liberal democracies, the multitude gets excluded from the public debate and only the voice of a very few gets heard, amplified through a thousand channels (cf. Chomsky, etc.).
When Jaromil got involved in programming, he wanted to create tools for people to express themselves. Through his adoption of GNU/Linux he learned about the particular notion of free software as proposed by Richard Stallman who says that the "free" in free software is not about the software being made available gratis but about "freedom of speech".
At that time, in the mid to late nineties the internet offered already many good ways of communicating by text - services such as listserv, usenet, web pages and web based forums -, but the possibilities for audiovisual expression were still quite minimal. The main software for live streaming of audio at the time was Real Audio. While the client software for the user was free, the server software had to be paid for according to a licence system which charged higher fees for higher numbers of users, which effectively put a cost barrier on live internet audio for financially weak individuals and institutions. Jaromil started to work on a software that would allow everybody to create a radio station on the internet, which would become MuSE (http://muse.dyne.org/). He also created a command line VJ tool called FreeJ (http://freej.dyne.org/); and he wrote a software which transcoded live video into ascii-video, called Hasciicam (http://ascii.dyne.org/). The Hasciicam became an instant hit in GNU/Linux circles and was integrated in standard GNU/Linux distributions. Then Jaromil had to leave Italy because he got a draft letter from the military and as a conscientious objector he did not want to serve. He found a home and support in Austria for a number of years, first in Linz through Servus.at, later in Vienna.
There, at about the turn of the millennium, he started to develop Dyne:bolic (http://dynebolic.org/). The website "dyne.org" (http://dyne.org/) started initially as a way to stay in contact with an international network of hacker friends. "It showed a changing Moebius strip and an animated text banner saying a rose is a rose is a rose". At a hackmeeting in Italy he had learned about the Bolic1 software, one of the first GNU/Linux Live CD's created by LOA, a hacker group from Milan . A Live CD is a bootable disk - a whole operating system on a compact disk. When inserted into a computer and the computer gets restarted, it will run the GNU/Linux based operating system without the need to install it. This is an excellent way for people to get in contact with GNU/Linux. For a long time GNU/Linux had the image (and probably not just that) of being really difficult to install. To start working with GNU/Linux people needed to embark on a very steep learning curve because the biggest problems offered themeselves right at the start. Live CD's such as Dnye:bolic or the more widely known Knoppix (http://www.knoppix.org/) remove this barrier, there is no need to install anything and people can still enjoy the advantages of GNU/Linux. Jaromil started to develop a Live CD which would have all his audiovisual production tools pre-installed. He called it Dyne:bolic combining the name of his website (which was inspired by his love of ancient Greek philosophy in general and Heraclitus in particular) and the name of the Bolic1 Live CD which had inspired his project. Any standard PC could be turned into an audiovisual production suite within minutes by slotting Dyne:bolic into the disk drive and rebooting the machine.
A particular feature of Dyne:bolic is that it has been created to work well on old computers. By avoiding the usual GNU/Linux Desktops such as Gnome or KDE Dyne:bolic is very fast and efficient and can devote all the resources to rendering a live signal, for instance. It also uses available network bandwidth very effectively and can adapt to poor connectivity and still send a stream. Last not least Dyne:bolic is capable of clustering to combine the computing power of a number of machines. On a local network segment it detects other machines running Dyne:bolic and connects to them to effectively combine processor power. The weaker machines will then more or less just serve as 'thin clients' while the better machines do the audiovisual rendering jobs. Since Dyne:bolic 1.0 came out it has seen a complete rewrite over one and a half year. One of the most important improvements since version 2.0 ist that it now contains the production tools, so that other people can make versions of Dyne:bolic. This has actually happened through, amongst others, the Puredyne distribution (https://devel.goto10.org/puredyne), which, if one wants to say so, is a clone based one Dyne:bolic which is even more "audiovisual" by including tools such as Pure Data and other specialist producer and composer software.
Audio Link, Jaromil: the making of dyne 2

Jaromil at NID in Ahmedabad
Audio Link, Jaromil: Trains in India
Features of Dyne:bolic such as those described above are the result of Jaromil's political and creative development philosophy. Jaromil's explicit goal when writing a software such as Dyne:bolic can be summarised by the term "empowerment" although he himself would probably not use such a strong term which originally was connected in a very particular way with the Black American civil rights movement but has now been hijacked by much less noble causes. In order to be able to give people the chance to empower themselves Jaromil needs to find out their actual needs. The philosophy and concept behind Dyne:bolic has been developed through extensive travelling in India and Palestine. "Crossing borders" and allowing himself to be thrown off balance by actual events in real life are an important source of inspiration for Jaromil. As much as anybody else he would like to be surrounded by beautiful country side and nothing else to be able to fully concentrate on the creative task, he recognises that this would not necessarily bring the best results. Therefore he goes to zones of urban struggle and decides to live in an active squat in Amsterdam (there are squats which are just places to live cheaply and other squats which participate actively in a politicised squatter scene). This goes right to the heart of Jaromil's political philosophy. He sees the need to find out about "the dirty fights in Babylon". Although he devotes a significant time of his life to writing code, he always thinks outside the box and is equally concerned with real spaces, real situations, real people. As this keeps his sensibility sharp he is aware that "software" first and foremost, "changes the world of software." Thus, while it is his explicit goal to write software which in the long term changes the world, he is aware of the limitations of what software can do. For those reasons he also opposes the notion of the 'lab'. "There are already enough labs in the world," according to Jaromil. He takes his inspiration from those people whom he would like to see use his software and he tries to develop it and make it available in such a way that he can give something back to those communities. There is also a particular economics involved in this. As Jaromil lives in a squat he needs very little money to survive. By being an active squatter he seeks to make free living spaces available for other people as well. And by writing free software he seeks to create free spaces for expression, spaces in which a gift economy can blossom.6,7
Audio Link, Jaromil GCC Saved my Life
The creative philosophy is also underpinned by an explicit political thinking informed by Marx. Jaromil links free software with Marx' concept of the ownership of the means of production. He defines himself as "an artisan, who is not paid but who is free to do what he thinks is right," and who is also "free to give away his intellectual production." His breakthrough moment came when he realised that with GNU/Linux he had not only a free operating system but also a free compiler. Up until then he had to use cracked versions of commercial compiler software. Programming languages such as C need to be 'compiled' into machine readable zeros and ones in order to work on a machine. Having had to use a pirated copy of the expensive industry standard C compilers of the past was a serious impediment for the dissemination of his software. Even though the software was one hundred percent his brainchild, he could not distribute it because of the compiler bottleneck. Richard Stallmans GNU project had created the GNU C Compiler, GCC, a formidable tool which was a real breakthrough for free software. From that moment onward artisan programmers such as Jaromil are able to own as individuals everything that they need to do their work.
Another important aspect of that is also the availability of cheap or free internet bandwidth and free server hosting facilities. Creative hacker communities and sometimes also partly publicly funded small netculture initiatives have since the early nineties worked hard to keep free and independent hosting facilities open which are neither under corporate nor government control. On such small server farms free software projects can run their version control systems, repositories for code which allow programmers to share development tasks and keep the development threads in an orderly manner. GNU/Linux, the gcc compiler and free hosting platforms give independent developers 100% control over their projects.
Audio Link, Jaromil I am an Artisan
Historically, the development of significant new technologies was only possible by huge initial investments. In the world of software a real "revolution" has happened insofar as those entry barriers have been removed and through free software a free space for creativity has been established. This free space is constantly threatened through the misguided policies of governments whose only aim is to protect the oligarchy of industry incumbents. The sad irony is that while most governments will publicly proclaim that it is their highest goal to support the "creative industry" they stick to restrictive intellectual property policies which threaten the creative freedom which has already been established through free software and the internet.
The political 'program' which is inscribed in Jaromil's development philosophy devolves power from dominant market forces and creates new non-markets in which a creative gift economy can happen. Insofar Jaromil is exemplary for many politicised free software programmers who do not just write any software - for instance also the US military supports 'open source' software - but who explicitely engage in software projects which increase the freedom of creative nonmarket spaces (cf. Yochai Benkler, The Wealth of Networks). Significant projects of a similar kind are for example the content management systems Drupal and Joomla. Written collectively by thousands of programmers, they give work to tens of thousands of internet developers who make hundreds of thousands of websites for small businesses, arts organisations, civil society organisations. The code itself is free also as in gratis but it is the basis for a significant economy to evolve which gives many people paid work. While the 'poetics' of Jaromils free software projects may reach and be fully understandable and usable only to a free software elite (at least that is a criticism which I often hear but do not actually share), he is in the process of becoming an iconic figure who inspires many others who set out on a similar path.
Interestingly, from a theoretic point, while industrialisation killed the jobs of many free artisans in the phase of primitive accummulation (when small artisanal production was turned into large scale industrial production) the new mode of commons based peer production on the nonmarket allows artisans such as Jaromil to be independent and yet create works which are of cultural and industrial significance. This may signal a true paradigm shift in the political economy of highly developed (or rather "newly de-industrialised"?) countries. A further important point in that regard is that while in the past the direction of future technological development was taken behind closed doors by the Power Elites (cf. C.W. Mills) now independent developers without any significant financial capital base can decide which turn technological development can take in a key economic area such as ITC. While the speed of development in this area is unprecedent - software projects such as Drupal or the GNU/Linux based operating system Ubuntu have 6 monthly update cycle - it may also hint that the strong intellectual property protection policies adapted across other industries are in fact crippling and only help to stay old fashioned business models and a compromised system of non-representational pseudo democracy in power.
All Audio excerpts from Jaromil
thoughts to come...
In his essay All problems of Notation Will be Solved by the Masses, Simon Yuill claims that the emergent practice of livecoding 'most directly embodies the key principles of FLOSS production into the creation and experience of the work itself.' Unfortunately this claim is supportet by an argumentation which is elitist, draws on the criterium of virtuosity and thereby stands in stark contrast to the culture of particpation that FLOSS has engendered. While his central argument is not supported, the piece offers enough food for thought to be considered interesting reading.
On re-reading Umberto Eco on the openness of artworks1 and while thinking about the problem of the relationship between media art and Free, Libre and Open Source Software (FLOSS) as I had it outlined in my original text The Next Layer it suddenly became clear to me that FLOSS makes true all the promises of the avantgarde yet kills art by doing so.
FLOSS has already realised some of the most important demands of the avant-garde of high modernity: it killed the author, or better, replaced him or her with a collaborative model of collective authorship - thereby making true the utopian demand by Isidore Ducasse and the Surrealists that 'poetry should be made by all'; it realised the demand by Walter Benjamin, who was himself inspired by the Russian Productivist Tretiakov, that the author should create the conditions for others to become authors as well, by creating a culture of particpation on a massive scale. (please note the difference between 'participation on massive scale' and 'the masses'; this is not about the 'masses', a derogatory term used by the bourgeoisie, but about the people.)
Seen from any possible angle FLOSS comes close to ideally representing key demands that have been raised about the ideal of artistic production by avant-garde movements in high modernity and the 1960ies. Yet at the same time the vast majority of the output of the FLOSS community is not art. The FLOSS community does not reference its products as art. FLOSS production is not linked to the canon of modern and contemporary art as it emerged from the artistic movements of high modernity; it is not part of the art system of museums and festivals. (On a more philosophical level I postulate that the full realisation of the demand of the avant-garde that 'poetry should be made by all' would automatically spell the end of art as we know it. More about that towards the end of the article.)
In recent years a small part of the art world tries to find ways to enlist FLOSS into the service of fine arts. Usually they get it very wrong as there are unresolvable differences between the ways FLOSS communities think and work and how the art world thinks and functions. Sometimes seemingly more convincing arguments are made about connections between FLOSS and art.
One such example has been the award winning essay All problems of Notation Will be Solved by the Masses by Simon Yuill. Although it is generally a very knowledgeable piece which contains some very important insights about both FLOSS and art, Yuill gets it all wrong in one central point: he bases his argument on elitism and virtuosity. As I will show, although FLOSS culture contains elements of both, elitism and virtuosity, those criteria stand in stark contrast to the central tenets of FLOSS culture: to foster a culture of enabling, facilitation and participation on a massive scale.
Under paragraph one of his text Yuill states:
"Of all the artforms supported and enabled through FLOSS, ‘livecoding’ has emerged as the one which most directly embodies the key principles of FLOSS production into the creation and experience of the work itself." (page 2)
Livecoding is an emergent practice whereby performers on stage type code into a computer which gets executed as they type it and produces sound and / or images. Main proponents of the practice are the group with, among others, Alex McLean, Amy Alexander and xxxxx. It is a very interesting practice and I have a lot of respect for the skill of the artists involved. It may also be true that livecoding shares some characteristics with forms of avant-garde music involving improvisation and open notation schemes. But what I find highly disagreeable is that livecoding ideally embodies the key characteristics of FLOSS and the way that this argument is made.
Simon Yuill places livecoding within a context of Post-Webernian avantgarde music, from Berio to Stockhausen and others (the same artists who are quoted by Eco), African American avant-garde music of the 1960ies ('Free Jazz') and MIT hacker culture exemplified by the educational software project LOGO for children which was promoted by Seymour Papart, also in the 1960ies. Yuill gets mixed up between the character of lifecoding as an 'open' artwork in the sense of Umberto Eco and the participatory character of FLOSS. If Yuill is right that livecoding indeed shares important properties with avant-garde music both from the Western European and the African American tradition and the MIT hacker culture as well, then it is by definition one of the most elitist activities that can be thought of. This elitism stands in stark contrast to the mass participatory culture which FLOSS has facilitated. Moreover, although Yuill states that livecoding embodies the principles of FLOSS, he relies on a definition of art which in an unquestioning way continues a typification of art which is based on the old paradigm of genius and virtuosity. If FLOSS practice can be art, then the definition of art must change significantly as well.
FLOSS is the product of often widespread collaborations between geographically dispersed individuals and communities who use the internet and certain communication tools such as versioning systems, forums, wikis and mailinglists to coordinate their efforts and produce works of huge complexity. Although in those collaborations the individual does not vanish and the projects often have decision making and organising structures which are neither flat nor decentralized but on the contrary, sometimes highly centralized (such as the 'benevolent dictatorship' allegedly exercised by Linus Torvalds over the Linux project), FLOSS nevertheless stretches the concept of authorship until it breaks. Free Software projects such as the Debian distribution have thousands of authors and maybe, if all the contributed 'packages' are counted, even millions. The number of 'participants' rises even further if we also take into account the people who use the software and write bug reports and who populate the forums and exchange tips about installation and usage.
If we consider different levels of engagement, from master/expert to average programmer to someone who can tweak a few lines of existing code to, finally, the 'end user', the boundaries between producer and consumer are not simply blurred but the dichotomy is wholly replaced by a field of relationships. Last not least, all those various types of production happen in a vast gift economy whereby the code, following the 'law' of the GPL is exchanged freely just as if communism had been realised within the heart of the capitalist high-tech industry. Classically only art had the status of a non-commodity (loosely following Bordieu on this subject matter who stated that the field of cultural production constituted a non-economy because all the laws of the economy proper had been reversed). Now software has acquired that status too. Such similarities should not mislead us about the profound differences. I would go even so far to propose that there is a fundamental incommensurability (in the sense of Paul Feyerabend) between FLOSS and art.
Simon Yuill claims that 'the fundamental act of friendship among programmers is the sharing of programs.[footnote 64]' 2 However, in FLOSS culture code is not just shared between 'friends'. FLOSS has spawned a mass participatory culture which is based on a very clear set of rules embodied in the GPL. The central tenet of FLOSS, if there is such a thing, is that code is not just shared between friends but between millions of strangers who in the vast majority never ever meet face-to-face. The main motivation for sharing is not friendship but a whole set of different motivations which are in the majority non-altruistic3
Another area in which Yuill's thesis leads itself ad absurdum is that he links livecoding with virtuosity. Indeed, when I heard first about this practice some years ago, I found just the thought of it intimitating. Programming is something very difficult, to do it live on stage and generate aesthetically interesting results surely is something that only a small minority of elite hackers can do. Drawing on Paulo Virno, Yuill states that 'improvisation exemplifies virtuosity'.4 Yet virtuosity is generally linked with an obsolete bourgeois concept of art. The key characteristic of emancipatory forms of art and culture in the 20th century has not been the focus on virtuosity but on the contrary, on the inspired dilettante: from Duchamp's signing of industrially produced objects to Warhol's reproduction of mass media images to the three chords of Punk music. The same with hacking. You can enter hacker culture at all levels as I have shown above. It is something that does not just benefit and give gratification to the virtuoso but also to the bloodiest newbie struggling to install Ubuntu5
At the core of Yuill's thesis is the idea that software is a form of notation (which is something that itself can be disputed, but maybe at another time). He places livecoding in the proximity of Post-Webernian composers who use 'open' notation schemes. In those works the notation does not determine the final output, it leaves a lot of space for interpretation. I am not saying this in any denunciatory way, it is a matter of factly statement that at the time when those experimental techniques first came up, they were recognized, practiced and appreciated by an elite only. They came from a background of 'serious' music in the Western tradition. This sort of elitism is deeply embedded in the Eurocentric system of art. In his text Yuill offers the best (or worst) example of what happens when aesthetic avantgarde-elitism becomes politicised. His most important British example is the Scratch Orchestra founded by Cornelius Cardew. Yuill writes:
"It was through the Scratch Orchestra that Cardew was to acquire a profound political self-awareness, applying an explicit Maoist perspective to his own practice, and leading to his involvement in founding the Revolutionary Communist Party of Great Britain (Marxist-Leninist). "
(Yuill 2008, page 9)
By 1970 (when Cardew got so politicised) the horrors of Stalinism and Maoism were well known in Britain. It is unfortunate that, following his elitist instinct, Cardew would openly associated himself with politicians who promoted and practiced the 'dictatorship of the proletariat' (i.e. genocide of peasants and workers) whereby with proletariat they did not refer to 'the people' but to the party. The sad end of the Scratch Orchestra as told by Simon Yuill is just another illustration what an elitist mindset leads to.(pages 13, 14, 15)
Yuill gets himself even deeper into an elitist quagmire by slightly misquoting Adorno when he writes:
"The performance may simply become the regurgitation of old cliches and formulas like that of the amateur jazz musician described by Adorno, unable to stray from the existing models to which he has adapted and subordinated himself.[53]"6
In the passage that Yuill refers to Adorno does not talk about an 'amateur' jazz musician but dismisses the whole genre of Jazz because it was, in his understanding, tainted by the fact that it emerged from a commercial culture industry and therefore engendered a fetishisation of music accompanied by a regression of listening. Adorno's critique of Jazz can at best be considerd that of a Eurocentric art snob, yet actually it may be outright racist. I can only utter surprise by seeing Adorno being quoted in this way. The economic conditions of the creation of an art form do not necessarily determine the artistic qualities of an art form.
If everything until so far sounds like I am out to do a hatchet job on Yuill's essay I must clearly state this is not my intention. It is really unfortunate that he gets it wrong in that most central point regarding elitism and vistuosity. There are also some very good points. What Yuill says about the practice of livecoding can be extended to a statement about many participatory practices:
"The notion of practice that they exhibit is one which is consciously linked to, and helps define, particular practitioner communities. They are groups defined not by a common aesthetic, style, nor even in some cases common collection of cultural references, but significantly by commitments to shared practices." (page 8)
I also find very useful for my own FLOSS research and can subscribe to the notion of the virtue-ethic:
"In contrast to an ethics of duty based on obligation to a set of external standards to which the individual must aspire, virtue ethics arise from and are directed towards forms of practice. They are defined and realised through action rather than regulation or law and aim towards a general ethic of self-actualisation.[footnote 61] " (page 9)
It is really unfortunate that, rather than following those clues about practice and a 'virtue ethic', Yuill falls into the trap of various elitisms.7
Sometimes the references in Yuill's essay just do not go together well, maybe because everything is explained from a viewpoint of artistic immanence and not via sober and cool social analysis. An example: The proposed proximity between the Sun Ra Arkestra and MIT hackerdom in the 1960ies, is a very doubtful connection, as by all means Sun Ra's 'science' was a caricature of and directed against Pentagon supported Yankee WASP egg-head culture. Yet Yuill uses the trick of writing about those without any separation of paragraph, through this stylistic trick implying they are closely related practices. The free jazz of John Coltrane, Eric Dolphy, Ornette Colemen and other was/is important not just because of the use of dissonant tonalities and the method of free improvisation but also because of the social context of black consciousness and the radicalisation of the civil rights movement. It was also the first time that African American jazz musicians started their own labels and created independent distribution channels. The virtuosity of free improvisation alone without black consciousness and empowerment can create really dire results. I have been exposed to so many 'free improvisation sessions' in my student yeras in the late 1970ies and early 1980ies, that this drove me directly into the arms of punk, disco, rap and reggae. To claim any similarity between livecoding and the high point of free jazz is a bit far fetched indeed. What the world maybe needs is not to find the next John Coltrane of FLOSS (or more clones of RSM) but rather a Bob Marley of Open Source.
Another good point in Simon Yuill's essay is the recognition that FLOSS is an 'endless' project:
"Whereas commercial software production emphasises the creation of distinct software products, hacking emphasises code as part of a ongoing dialogue between practitioners."
and
"Free Software is an ‘activity-without-end-product’ not in the sense of having no output, but rather in the sense of constantly creating the capacity for production elsewhere." (both quotations page 11)
This relates to Umberto Eco's definitions of openness about the never ending art work. While the notion of the artwork as a somehow open, aleatory and auto-poietic system, a work which keeps being recreated and recreated and thereby changes, is a beautiful one, the reality is that this does not go well with the current art market. The success of the commercial art market as exemplified by the growth of art fairs in recent years has been based on a regression towards ever more commercial forms of art placed firmly on the notion of the sellable object with discrete forms.
At the same time digital artists have a more fundamental and philosophic al problem exactly because of the openendedness of the world of FLOSS. Any work based on FLOSS by its very nature has no beginning and no end and no single author. This becomes most obvious in the case of internet based artworks, such as the participatory work 9Nine by Mongrel/Harwood. "How can you cope with a situation where nothing every stays the same," the artist Harwood sighed in an interview with me8, where, paraphrasing him now, everything changes all the time and nothing is ever fixed? This is the world of FLOSS and how would anyone claim that this has anything to do with art as we know it? The artist can at best ride on a wave created by the multitude of FLOSS developers and make comments on the current state of the art and society, but this is not art as we knew it, based on a clear distinction between the 'work' and the 'author'.
The demand that 'poetry should be made by all' is in the process of being realised by open source culture. The desire of the most interesting elements within the Western art world that art should leave behind the bourgeois phase of aestheticism and become part of the praxis of life (Bürger 1974), that art should become radically democratic, that the barriers between producers and consumers should be removed and that all humans should have the chance to fully realize their potential by being engaged in creating beauty has never been come closer to than at the beginning of the 21st century with the rise of a huge wave of participatory cultures in music, in writing, in software, in hardware. Within those areas, FLOSS is in my opinion a priviliged area as it is not only another form of expression but also an enabler of DIY cultures. The fear that this gets turned into a 'spectacle of participation' through Web 2.0 is justified. However, the mass media success of venture capital supported 'social software' platforms should not obscure the fact that there is still a thriving and rapidly growing FLOSS culture which exists separately from that and which gives millions of people a chance to learn and educate and express themselves. As Simon Yuill rightly says in his opening remarks, there has been a disillusionment regarding 'openness' but not with Open Source Culture but the way some parts of the art system have tried to claim it and recuperate for an artistic praxis which adheres to bourgeois values. Yuill writes:
"Not all artists working with FLOSS and livecoding necessarily share the politics of the hacklabs scene, nor do all hacklab participants necessarily look upon their own activities as art-related, and some are, sometimes rightly, sceptical of artistic involvement in what they do."
Unfortunately he does not elaborate on those differences because that would lead to a very fundamental aporia. Artists who now claim to be working on the basis of FLOSS principles do so within an art system which works inside the capitalist system. Their success as artists and the economic viability of their careers is based on them gathering symbolic capital as individual artist geniuses. If the demand that poetry should be made by all would be fully realised that would mean almost by necessity that all people would have to be freed from the slavery of work to be able to fully devote themselves to the making of art. However, only a utopian society can support such a situation where everybody truly 'is an artist' and in such a society the word 'art' has no separate meaning anymore. Until that society is realised we will always be partly unfree and areas of freedom such as FLOSS will have to exist as islands - however vast and growing - in an ocean of unfreedom. Under current conditions, if FLOSS realises the demand that poetry is produced by all, it does so by an act of devaluation says Peter Bürger9p 52. Bürger then suggests to step back from the avantgardistic demand that art should become part of the praxis of life and stay 'autonomous' in the classical sense - as a distinct system within the existing society with its own values. This sudden turn is hard to follow. Instead, if we still believe in any form of progress, then we can join FLOSS with a non-elitist ethos of art. One Love.
Since more than 10 years the Croatian media artist Darko Fritz has been researching the archives of the Museum for Contemporary Arts Zagreb to gather material about the New Tendencies series of exhibitions and events in Zagreb, Ex-Yugoslavia, now Croatia, from 1961 to 1973 and the Bit International journal published by that same art movement. An exhibition in 2007 at Neue Galerie Graz and now at ZKM Karlsruhe shows the works of this important but almost lost art movement, were it not for the effort of Darko Fritz. For the Graz exhibition a little catalogue came out with contributions by Peter Weibel, Jesa Denegri and Margit Rosen. I have data mined those articles and present this material in the manner of a literature review for other researchers to study it and draw their own conclusions. All translations from German are my translations.
As we are now in an age of the writing and attempted canonisation of media art histories there is a tendency of closure, of a solidification of a certain discourse. In that discourse very often genealogies are generated in hindsight (cf. for instance Media Art Histories, edt. by Oliver Grau, 2007). I would like to keep things open and resist this tendency to point at the possibility of other readings. Immanent in this question of history writing is the struggle about the definition of media art, which is still an 'unstable' field. The New Tendencies exhibition and publications going with it -- in spring 2009 a large catalog will come out making available some of the original writings -- will present interesting material for scholars to investigate the rise and failure of an 'ultimate avant-garde' (regarding the understanding of this term see below).
Arguably, the New Tendencies series of events between 1961 and 1973 were too early and too decentralised to have had a significant impact on contemporary media art and that of the recent past. The last event in 1973 coincides with the 'implosion' of systems art as described by Charlie Gere in various texts (Gere 2004, ...). The end of the movement and the lack of a direct continuation - the direction that the New Tendencies pursued would only be picked up again in the 1980s by a broader movement of media artists -- may have been intensified by the reluctance of Western media to engage with those artforms and favour other new artforms instead, such as Pop Art and Op Art, which ignored the political ideology which informed the thinking of the group of people behind the New Tendencies.
This tendency to focus on the visual side and the surfaces may have been aggravated by the fact that there seems to have been an ideological power struggle within the art world which mirrored the ideological power struggle between Cold War superpowers and in which the New Tendencies - born on the relatively neutral soil of un-aligned Yugoslavia - found themselves squeezed. Albeit it needs to be immedeately added, as the Soviet Union was officially subscribed to Soviet Realism, it did not participate in this power struggle actively. Instead this was a struggle between leftwing artists from various countries who gathered in Yugoslavia and organs of the institutionalised art system intent on suppressing the influence of leftwing post- and neo-constructivism.
Yet despite the undeniable negative effect of such 'external' enemies the movement had also its own troubles. The reading of the materials and the visit of the exhibition exposes, as I will show in my summary, difficult and unresolved issues closely connected to the programmatic of New Tendencies, issues by which the field of media art is still plagued today. I suggest to read the material in this sense as it exposes the problems of media art in an early stage.
1. Kunst als K hoch 8, by Peter Weibel in Bit International. Exhibition Catalogue, Neue Galerie, Graz 2007.(Art as K by the magnitude of 8)
As Peter Weibel writes in his introduction to the exhibition, when contemporary art relaunched itself after 1945, and began to reference sources from before fascism and WWII, at first what was favoured were Abstract Expressionism, Informel and Tachism, 'the expressive and spiritual side of abstraction (Weibel 2007, p. 4). Then Weibel goes on to say that 'the rational branch of constructivism' which according to him had started with the Constructivist Manifesto of 1920 by Naum Gabo and Pevsner (Weibel also cites 'geometric abstraction' as represented by Abstraction-creation: art non-figuratic1932 - 1936) started to be rediscovered in the late 1950s. Important people were Max Bill (who had published the journal abstraktkonkret) and who became the director of the design arts college in Ulm in 1952 and among whose students were Almir Magnavier and where theorists such as Max Bense and Abraham Moles were teaching (Weibel 2007, p. 4)
Almir Magnivier and Matko Mestrovic were among the founders of the New Tendencies 'project'. A strong influence was exerted by groups such as Groupe de Recherche d'Art Visuell (GRAV, 1960 - 1968) who figure promenintly in a number of genealogies (cf. Giannetti 2004) of 'cybernetics' or 'systems art,' as well as 'Gruppo N, MID and T.' (Weibel, op.cit., p. 5)
NOTE: The formation of groups and, in some cases, hiding behind a very abstract group identity seems to have been an important characteristic of those art movements, something that would reappear and reappear in art & technology practices.
Weibel then quotes the Manifesto Stoppt die Kunst (GRAV 1965) (Stop the Art) where a consideration of the participant is demanded.
"We need to find a way out of the deadly end of modern art. If there is a social aspect in modern art it needs to involve the viewer. [...] We would like to attract the attention of the viewer, to make him free and more relaxed. [...] We desire his participation, we would like to bring him into a position which mobilisies him and makes him master of this movement, we want him to agree to play a game [...] we want him to be in mutual exchange with other viewers. We want him to show more perceptive capability and action [...] A viewer who becomes aware of his power and who is tired of so many errors and mystifications, willn be capable of carrying out his own revolution in the arts under the signs of action and collaboration." (GRAV 1965 quoted in Weibel 2007; my translation from German. The German text is not very clear and has grammatic weaknesses; this text originally appeared in connection with the exhibition Labyrinth 3 in New York 1965)
Weibel states that a 'critical rationality' was able to 'reflect art methodically' and therefore started to speak of 'visual research' instead of art. This tendency found expression in shows such as Bewogen Beweging (1961 Stedelijk Museum Amsterdam and that same year in Stockholm), Arte Programmata, Arte Kinetica, opera moltiplicata, opera aperta (1962, Milan) and The Responsive Eye (1965, Museum of Modern Art, New York).
'On the occasion of this exhibition the term Op Art was coined. Shows such as The Responsive Eye have had a suffocating rather than an enabling influence on the development of artistic discourse, as the reception which made it successful , ignored core interests of the movement which had gathered around the term New Tendencies.' (Weibel 2007, p. 6)
The concrete and abstract art of the 1950s joined forces, according to Weibel, with cybernetics and information theory (Ibid., p. 6). Naming Umberto Eco, Max Bense and Abraham Moles as important theorists, Weibel says that they
'integrated the semiotic approach of Charles S. Peirce in arts as well as the mathematical theories in information and communication theory developed by the American Claude Shannon and The Russian A.A. Markov based on which new forms of cybernetic art were created for instance by Nicolas Schöffer, and many other medial art forms.' (Ibid., 6)
In Weibel's genealogy what comes next are then the landmark exhibitions 'Information' at the MOMA New York (1970), and 'Software, Information Technology: Its Meaning for Art' (1970) at the Jewish Museum, New York. As he explains, many art works of the New Tendencies in the early 1960s were 'programmed', if not actually in practice then in the way they were conceived, as demonstrated by Karl Gerstner's early book Programme entwerfen (1963) (Ibid., pp. 6 -7). At The New Tendencies III in 1965 a split occured and many artists left the field. In the year 1968 computer scientists joined the New Tendencies IV event, which was reflected in the title 'Computers and Visual Research.' On the occasion of that event also the publication of the quarterly Bit International started which saw 7 editions. The summer of 1968 also saw the exhibition Cybernetic Serendipity in London, curated by Jasia Reichardt, which is also claimed in the genealogies of media art and receives sustained attention. The renewed focus on the 'bit' is given as ecidence by Weibel that
'in 1968 a new epoch has started which is not characterised through the advent of the machine in art, as it was practiced by Tatlin and the constructivists, but which was characterised by the advent of the intelligent, symbol processing machine in the field of art.' (op.cit., p. 7)
According to Weibel thanks to an exact, rational aesthetics whose development in the 1960s can be studied via the New Tendencies 'like under a microscope' eight art movements and their interdependencies become visible: concrete, constructive, kinetic, cybernetic, conceptual, Op Art, concrete poetry and computer art. (Ibid., p. 8) In all cases, Weibel summarises, this is a 'programmed art' in each instance, even if in 'concrete poetry' sometimes no computer is used (Ibid., p. 9)
NOTE: As we will see, the way Weibel constructs this genealogy out of the New Tendencies series of events, is tendentious. First of all, the genealogy is too general and too unifying. Despite the desire of the initiators to form an international art movement, New Tendencies is maybe more a pool where for a certain period in time several art forms came together who actually had internal divisions and different aims and origins. Secondly, Weibel uses this genealogy to construct a teleology: the ultimate destiny of the rational, abstract and exact arts is programmed computer art. Within that he locates already a subthread, the 'interactive' computer art work.
2. Die Bedingungen und Umstände, die den ersten beiden Ausstellungen der Nova Tendencije in Zagreb [1961 - 1963] vorausgingen. Jesa Denegri in Bit International. Exhibition Catalogue, Neue Galerie, Graz 2007. (The conditions and circumstances which existed prior to the first two New Tendencies Exhibitions in 1961 and 1963)
According to Jesa Denegri (2007) there is a continuity between Exat-51, an 'experimental atelier 51' which had existed in Zagreb since 1951 and the New Tendencies. Tito taking Yugoslavia away from the Soviet block also allowed ditching the 'Socialist Realism' dogma (Denegri 2007, 11) Exat-51 based their work on a neo-constructivist philosophy.
'Although they referred to the traditions of Bauhaus, Russian constructivism, and the achievements of the classics of European abstract art, the theoretic contributions of Richter and Rádic, and the works of the painters Picelj, Kristl, Srnec and Rasic represented a big intellectual step for Croatia and the whole Yugoslav artistic culture. At the same time they displayed similarities with parallel movements in Western European art of the 1950s.' (Denegri 2007, 11 - 12)
As some of those parallel developments Denegri names the groups Espace in France, Forma Uno and Movimento Arte Concreta in Italy, the exhibition Salon Realie tes Novelles 1952 in Paris in which Exat-51 took part.
In a lengthy quote from one of the initiators, Almir Mavignier, he describes the origin of the first Nova Tendencije as motivated by the conservative character of the Venice Biennale which did not allow to make new directions in art felt. According to the art historian Marina Viculin the first New Tendecies show is mainly a result of a meeting between Mavignier and the art critic Matko Mestrovic where they discussed the disappointing Venice Biennale. Metkovic then convinced the curator of the Museum for Contemporary Art Bozo Bek to help make it happen. The well travelled Mavignier compiled a long artist list and then through the 'tireless' correspondence of Metkovic, the first show came together.
After an international call, artists sent work to Zagreb. There were paintings but also strange types of 'objects which did not have traditional characteristics of a a sculpture.' Thus, the exhibition was structured as following this tendency 'from painting to the object.' (Ibid., Mavignier quoted by Denegri, p. 13) The title was inspired by a previous exhibition under the title stringenz - nuove tendence tedesche, which had happened in Milan in 1959 at Pagani Gallery. What Mavignier found particularly interesting was that works from artists from very different countries showed similar concerns with 'optical investigations into plane, structure, objecthood'. (Alvir Mavignier, 1970, neue tendenzen I - ein überraschender zufall. In: New Tendencies IV, Katalog. n.p.)
The initiators themselves seemed surprised of the width and depth of those new areas of work which they had discovered, and which to document and inform the public aout in future events they saw as their duty.
Quoting the publication Prospect - Retrospect Europa 1946 - 1976, published in 1976 by Konrad Fischer and Hans Strelow, Denegri sketches the context for this movement. This was constituted by the already mentioned Bewogen Beweging, exhibition at the Stedelijk, the exhibitions Le Noveau Realisme a Paris et a New York, and A 40° au-dessus de Dada, both in Paris, solo exhibitions by Rothko, Pollock, Rauschenberg, Arman, Christo and Tingeluy in a number of cities. Important artists also were the members of the group Zero, Heinz Mack, Otto Piene and Guenter Uecker, who together with Piero Manzoni and Enrico Castellani grouped around Azimuth&Azimut Gallery and magazine in Italy. All of them found themselves later on the list of participants that Mavignier had compiled for New Tendencies. Other artists for that first exhibition were Piero Dorazio, Gerhard von Graevenitz, Julio Le Parc, Joel Stein, Francois Morellet, Gruppo N from Padua and Gruppo T from Milan as well as the Croatian artists Ivan Picelj and Julije Knifer. Denegri summarises that as Informel art lost its momentum at the end of the 1950s, two new movements gathered strength, the new abstraction of the New Tendencies and the figurative trend of Pop Art, both born out of a new 'optimism of generations of younger generations of artists who could enjoy the solidifieing social circumstances in post war Europe.' (Denegri 2007, p. 15)
Participant Morellet expressed his belief that NT earmarked the 'beginning of a revolution in the arts which will be as big as the revolution in science. Therefore rationality and the spirit of systematic research must replace intuitionism and individual expression.' Denegri 2007, p. 16 quoting Morellet)
Another participant, Manfredo Massironi, highlighted the importance of the show for artists. Although of 'limited outreach' in terms of the critical attention it attracted, it was a great opportunity for artists from different countries to find out about the similarities about their work, and 'although it was not clear what it was that they shared it was a very enthusiastic moment.' (Ibid., p. 16 quoting Massironi)
The Parisian group GRAV published a position paper Propositiones Generales in 1961 in which they demanded that 'the audience should be liberated from the restrictions and deformations it had suffered regarding the judgement of art.' (Ibid., p. 17 quoting GRAV)
In another position paper under the title 'Apropos de art spectacle, spectateur actif, instabilite et programmation dans l'art visuel' a member of GRAV, Julio Le Parc, wrote:
'We are confronted with a new situation whose complexity stimulates reflection. Its evolution can also have unclear aspects. It is not about replacing one kind of habit with another one. The role of the work and the role of the viewer have changed. The active participation in the work is more important than contemplation. [...] To the cycle of conception-realisation-visualisation-perception is added modification. This idea leads us to the notion of instability.' (Ibid., Julio Le Parc quoted by Denegri p. 17)
In 1962 in a series of meetings it was tried to define a set of conceptual and ideological requirements which would define the participants list for the following instantiation of the event. The leading role in this was taken by individual members of GRAV and Grupo N as well as Mestrovic. This group tried to formulate stringent criteria for the selection of works to build the foundations of a large international movement. Ironically this led to the exclusion of many artists after New Tendencies II in 1963, many of whom would go on to become quite famous. Among those purged from the movement were Adrian, Boto, Dorazio, Mack, Piene (according to an essay by Valerie L. Hillings Concrete Territorry: Geometric Art, Group Formation and Self-Definition.)
Those splits between artists and the tense atmosphere at NT II resonates in a text of Mestrovic who writes that
'the historic necessity of art lies in its power to infiltrate social structures, to go through social barriers, intellectual habits, routines and all other forms of resistance which come from the unchanged, unreconstructed relationships of the forces of production and their superstructure. Art gets shattered at those obstacles or bounces back, its struggle us futile and it gets defeated if it only stays restricted to imagination and emotions.' (op.cit, p. 19 Denegri quoting Mestrovic)
This crisis would become fully visible at NT III in 1965. The attempt of establishing on an international level a completely new approach to artistic practice showed already signs of failure at NT II, Mestrovic would openly admit in 1965 (Ibid. p 20 Denegri quoting Mestrovic). In a style characterised by Denegri as 'dramatic' Mestrovic describes the reasons for the failure of the New Tendencies, that as a movement it displayed a certain naivity regarding the world political situation, and a 'contamination of practices' by the 'force field of capital'. The title was changed in 1965 from the plural to the singular, thereby admitting that it now as just one tendency among others, Denegri states . (Ibid, pp. 20 - 21) Thus, the New Tendencies had reached their climax already in 1963, the pinnacle of its theoretic formulation and activist and expansionist orientation, Denegri concludes, whose individual standpoints were sometimes extremely doctrinary.' (Ibid., p. 21)
At the Biennale of San Marino participants of New Tendencies received all the main prices, and Argan summarised this work as 'gestalt research' (Ricerca gestaltica - from German 'Gestalt' an expression which found increasing attention in Psychology since the early 1900 and formed the bases of Structuralims, cf. Piaget). In 1964 Nouvelle Tendance was shown at the Museum des Arts Decoratifs in Paris and at the same year NT artists were strongly present at the Biennale of Venice. 'Yet the feeling of triumpf and satisfaction,' Denegri writes, 'was disturbed by the powerful advent of American Neo-Dada and Pop Art [...] as well as a new abstract art (Morris Louis, Kenneth Noland, Frank Stella) whose support by the media and the market surpasses everything that had been known before.' (Ibid., p. 22)
The American market then turned its attention to the New Tendencies, and William C. Seitz organised the exhibition the Responsive Eye (1965) 'as a provocative confrontation with already established Op Art' (Ibid., p. 23). This was experienced by European participants as a 'Phyrric victory' or as 'burial ceremony of the first order' (Massironi). At that show, Denegri writes, the movement was robbed off the focus on investigation and research which had been inherited from Russian constructivism and became bar any ideological content, it was reduced to a 'retinal' and 'physiological' interpretation. (Ibid., p. 23 Denegri paraphrasing Massironi)
The New Tendencies in 1965 tried to counter this tendency by focusing on the research character of the works, but even the curator, the designer Enzo Mari, was dissatisfied with the result, admitting that a large part of the exhibited work 'was actually not research but rather the simulation of research or even its commercialisation.' (Ibid., p. 23 Denegri quoting Mari) As leading artists of the New tendencies such as Julio Le Parc received international attention and canonisation as artists, the movement lost its avant-garde character, according to Denegri (Ibid., 24).
Denegri highlights the importance of the theoretic writing of Matko Mestrovic 'written in the sharp tongue of critical and theoretical prose'. (Ibid., p. 27) In "The Ideology of New Tendencies" (Mestrovic 1963) he emphasises the movements recognition of the importance of scientific knowledge, the legacy of Bauhaus, the transformative power of technology and industrialisation and the 'shared and accepted teachings of Marx' which together created 'a constructive approach towards social change and societal problems.' (Ibid., p. 27) Mestrovic understood the New Tendencies as 'a first way of critique of and resistance to mechanisms of corruption and alienation'. He called for the 'demystification of artistic production' and a 'demasking of the influence of the art market' which 'treats art in a contradictory way both as myth and commodity'. The focus was not on individual expression but on 'research' which revealed the 'objective psycho-physical basis of sculptural phenomena' and which opened up the possibility of collective work. The movement also embraced the means of industrial production which should lead to a quicker social dissemination of the works. (Ibid., p. 28 quoting Mestrovic in Mestrovic 1965 n.p.)
The Italian critic Lea Vergine organised in 1983/84 an exhibition with the title "L'ultima avantgardia - Arte programmatica e cinetica 1953 - 1963" with 50 participants from different European countries. This was, according to Lea Vergine, the last concerted effort of a large international group of artists who, in collaboration with theorists, tried to achieve a fundamental change in the formulation of the goals of art, change which should also reach to the foundations of society. It was related to the historic avant-garde, especially that of a constructivist nature. Like that movement, it engaged with other disciplines such as design and architecture to gain influence on planning of the environment, and in its ultimate consequence it hoped to alleviate the condition of alienation of human labour as they took as their example the freedom of action and behavior, which characterises the position of politically conscious contemporary artists, Denegri writes. (Ibid., pp 29 - 30) Yet despite those principles, Denegri concludes, the New Tendencies could not stop from being absorbed by the market and the social circumstances which they had hoped to change. (Ibid., p. 30)
3. Die Maschinen sind angekommen: Die Neuen Tendenzen - visuelle Forschung und Computer, by Margit Rosen. In: Bit International. Exhibition Catalogue, Neue Galerie, Graz 2007. (The Machines have arrived: The New Tendencies, visual research and the computer)
In her contribution to the catalogue Rosen continues what Weibel has prepared for already: a teleology of New Tendencies finding their 'telos' in the computer.
While New tendencies I, II, and III talked about an 'arte programmata' and various objects were displayed which showed machine like behavior, it was the colloquium under the title The Computer and Visual Research in August 1968 in Zagreb which 'attempted to explore the artistic and social possibilities of a new medium, the symbol processing machine.' (Rosen 2007, p. 32)
The adaptation of the computer is embedded, according to Rosen, 'in the history of a movement which attempted to construct art rationally, to demystificate art and to use the knowledge and processes of the engineering sciences as well as industrial forms of production.' (Ibid., p. 33)
According to Rosen there are three reasons why NT adopted the computer: the crisis of NT which had come with the success 1965, the start of 'visual research' via the computer which manifested itself in two exhibitions, images by Georg Nees at TU Stuttgart and work by Bela Julesz and A Michael Noll in the Howard Wise gallery in NY, and, last not least, the development of an 'information aesthetics' by Max Bense who published 'Aesthetica' (Bense 1965) and the participation of Abraham A. Moles in a working meeting of NT artists in a castle in Croatia. The Yugoslavian curator and art critic Radoslav Putar saw the beginning of a 'new symbiosis with the machine' (Putar 1970, quoted in Rosen 2007). The integration of the computer into NT 4 allowed the organisers, so Rosen, to continuate the ambition to be avant-garde and to undertake 'a new effort of an organised exploration of the unknown' (Rosen 2007, p. 35, quoting Putar 1970). A rather large program committee consisting of old and new members started in 1967 to systematically aquire and analyse all publications about computer art. Then the committe started far reaching international correspondance 'overcoming the communication barriers of the cold war and writing to individuals, universities, companies and government agencies in Western and Southern Europe, the GDR, Polen, Czechoslovakia, Brazil the USA and Japan, inviting them to participate in the activities of the coming years.' (Rosen 2007, p. 36)
Artists presenting computer generated work included Marc Adrian, Kurd Alsleben, Vladimir Bonacic, Charles Csuri, Iroshi Kawano, Leslie Mezei, Peter Milojevic, Frieder Nake, Georg Nees, A. Michael Noll, as well as works by employees of the companies California Computer Products Inc. and Llyoyd Sumner (Ibid., p. 37)
In a symposium in 1969 participated, amongst others, artists and scientists interested in cybernetics such as Herbert W.Franke, Zdenko Sternberg, members of the Art Research Centre, Silvio Ceccato, Jonathan Benthal, Umberto Eco, engineers such as Alfred Grassl and Josef Hermann Stiegler and the Brasilian Valdemar Curdeiro (abbreviated list after Rosen, Ibid., pp 37 - 38)
With the symposium for the first time a new magazine, Bit International, was published.
As Rosen points out, with this new focus on the computer only a few persons from the first three NT events managed to stay on, the theorists Bozo Bek, Boris Kemelen, Matko Mestrovic, Abraham Moles and Radoslav Putar (Ibid p. 39) ... it seemed that artists had more problems keeping up than theorists, because from the original NT 1 exhibition in 1961 only Marc Adrian, Ivan Picelj and Zdenek Sykora remained. Picelj produced in collaboration with Vladimir Bonacic the random light object t4, but did not continue this line of work. The taking centre stage by mathematicians, phycisians, computer scientists was leading to critique by some artists as Alberto Biasi, who said that on one hand the artists did not know how to go further while scientists tried to get into art. (Ibid., p. 39, Biasi quoted by Rosen)
Rosen emphasises the focus of NT on research, on the intersubjective methodlogies of science, on an art as research which looks for solutions outside, not in the internal world. The works were results of an ongoing research which took the burden of creating 'masterpieces' from the shoulders of the young genre. (Ibid., pp 40 - 41)
Yet this created also problems. While the gesture of the individual artist genius was avoided the works mainly demonstrated 'the possibilities of the new medium' (Ibid., p. 41 my emphasis) The artists admitted in internal discussions that the lofty programmatic goals were not always met and that the artistic 'research' remained far behind the work of the specialists (Ibid., p. 41, Davide Boriani, Gruppo T, quoted by Rosen) However, in comparison to the much lauded exhibition Cybernetic Serendipity curated by Jasia Reichart at the ICA in London 1968, the program of NT was much more ambitious in terms of facilitating an international and organised research process, writes Rosen. (Ibid., p. 41)
On one hand NT4 saw itself as continuation of an 'arte programmata', a rules based art form which had been topic of pre-computer NT events. What was new was the focus on the artist as programmer and the program as an artwork. In this regard the organisers and theorists such as Vjenceslav Richter bordered on the doctrinal when he stated, as quoted by Rosen, that those artists incapable of formulating their ideas would be left behind in history (Ibid., p. 44). Yet two years later already, so Rosen, Abraham A. Moles criticised that 'through the computer artist a new kind of myth of the unintelligible had entered the discourse, which led to the remystification of the art. (Ibid., p. 44 Moles quoted by Rosen)'
As Rosen reflects, in some ways the 'arte programmata' of 1962, a special case of Eco's 'open' artwork, had been more advanced already than the programming art off 1969. Various types of open artworks, based on kinetic objects and probabilistic behaviour in rule based 'fields' of potentiality allowed perceptive types of viewer-participation. The visual research of the computer in 1969 was very much one based on production, not on perception. This was in contradiction with the original goals of the 'arte programmata' of the earlier NT events, Rosen concludes. (Ibid., p. 47)
Misunderstandings also occured between the goals of an information aesthetics as formulated by Bense and Moles, who focused on the role of the computer as a means of analysis and creation of art, and the intentions of the organisers who hoped to gain important information about perception and objective criteria for art critcism through the computer (Ibid., p. 47)
Yet this endeavor ran immedeately into problems. The exhibition in 1969 was based on a competition. The jury, consisting of Umberto Eco, Karl Gerstner, Vera Horvat-Pintaric, Boris Kemelen and Martin Krampen argued that because of the experimental nature and the still completely open field no general criteria of judgement could be formulated. The jury was against using judgements based on traditional parameters (Rosen paraphrasing PL 13 of NT 4)
This resulted in the jury giving special praise to works of employees of Boeing Computer Graphics, Bellevue, for their wireframe diagrams of machines and humans, as well as single frames of landing manouvres. Also participating were the scientists from Bell Labs, Leon D Harmon, Kenneth C Knowlton and Manfred Schroeder, who alse received special praise for technological excellency. The deepest impression on the jury, Rosen writes, made the work of the scientist Vladimir Bonacic. After making t4 in collaboration with Picelj, he realised a number of works on computers based on pseudo-random numbers as well as the dynamic light object DIN. GF 100 which implemented in electronic circuitry the mathematical functions which had first been tested on computers. (Ibid., pp 50 - 51)
As Rosen points out, the events of the year 1968, the student revolt in Paris and the Soviet tanks entering Prague to end the Prague Spring left no impression on NT (Ibid., p. 51)
Various points of critique were raised, as Rosen highlights. Biasi criticised computers as a continuation of technologies which were only means of exploitation of the workforce. His critique, so Rosen, also pointed at the fundamental critique of Herbert Marcuse on scientific and technical rationality. Even more radical was the critique of the London based German born artist Gustav Metzger who had played an important role in the art of the 1960s with his autodestructive art works. He emphasised the importance of the computer for military research, in particular the H-bomb and nuclear war. 'There is hardly any doubt that computer art is the avantgarde of the military,' said Metzger as quoted by Rosen. Yet Metzger as well as Frieder Nake did not plead for an end of computer based art. 'Only a deeper understanding of science and technology' could guarantee survival of humanity, Metzger is quoted as saying. Rosen's account ends with a quote of Molen who said that 'the computer would bring a revolution of deeper significance than the machine revolution, which had inspired Marx.' (Moles 1968, quoted by Rosen)
This last statement sits firmly at the relative beginnings of a narration which replaces Marx inspired critique with the un-Marxist ideology of the coming of the information age, as Richard Barbrook writes in Imaginary Futures (Barbrook 2007). New media technologies, not humans, become the sole agents of social change. This philosophy of a modified McLuhanism should become the ideology of media art. In this regard, as well as in many other ways, NT show the problems and aporias of media art, albeit in an early stage, yet, because of that, maybe increased clarity.
As I saw the show in 2007, what made itself felt soon was a wireframe fatigue, there were simply too many plotted computer graphics on the walls, yet those were of very different origins, which was not made that clear at all. There were the technically advanced but artistically naive works by the engineers of Boeing, IBM and Bell Labs and works by artists. In my view an art show should highlight the technical genesis of such exhibition objects. Yet at Ars Electronica, the worlds oldest and biggest media arts festival, till today works by scientists and by artists stand side by side. In 1999 Linus Torvalds even received the Golden Nica for his creation of the operating system Linux. There would be circumstances under which this could be welcomed but not if there is a general confusion of categories and also not considering the highly problematic status of media art in contemporary art theory and art history. As explained above, the works after 1968 shown in NT are often based on the demonstrations of the possibilities of the medium. As the medium is defined through technological progress, this is very problematic for media art because the progress of the art form would then be only a faculty of technical progress guided by capitalisms need to invent.
Another point is the foregrounding of the aspect of computer art as visual research. It appears that this is a rather surface oriented approach void of any depth which ignores many other issues relevant for art. Russian constructivism for instance, had many other concerns besides the 'visual' as such. The NT shows 1 to 3 continuated with research inspired by a constructivist ethos and its inquiry dealt with issues such as space and time as well as the role of the viewer and the artwork. The artwork as research is not just concerned with 'the visual' but also those other complex issues. (see on this also Thomas Crow, The unwritten histories of conceptual art. In: Art after Concept Art. Alberro and Buchloh, edts. 2005)
A closer and critical look at the exhibition also reveals that some artists seem to have used rather naively and opportunistically the chance to work with programmers and get computer time on machines which were then very difficult to get access to. This work is often very similar to but in reality categorically different from those works -- which are in a minority -- which dealt with real scientific problems of the time. I was lucky enough to visit the exhibition with a young computer scientist and biologist who could point out this difference: some works are merely 'visual' applications of systems art, reiterative and aleatory visual compositions; others which produce a similar visual output are based on actual issues in molecular biology and computer science. A similar gap affected also some of the text based works -- works by artists using language and the computer to either investigate similarities between code and language or to produce a 'deconstructed' neo-dadaist code literature. The deconstruction remains again on a superficial aesthetic level and lacks the philosophic wit and irony of, for instance Art & Language.
The whole institutional field surrounding computing in this early age, its embeddedness in a cold war logic, is not addressed by the art works, they do not reflect the conditions of their making. Thus, artists and scientists try to create a pure 'information asethetics' yet can hardly speak to each other and are separated from society. What we encounter here are the seeds of problems that art and technology practices would continue to have till today. A teleological discourse which puts all 'progressive' tendencies in modern art in the service of a teleology which will finally lead to interactive computer art glosses over those problems. Yet this is where media arts perceptive problems with critical art theorists start and where the field has not come to a self-perception which would allow to overcome those problems.
ZKM exhibition website: Bit International
An interesting and important account of the Bit International exhibition last year in Graz has been given by Lidija Merenik in Mute Magazine. Her article emphasises much more the political historic context of Yugoslaivias specific position as a socialist state but one which did not belong to the Soviet led Eastern Bloc from which distinct Yugoslavian cultural politics resulted. See Before the Art of New Media