Imogen and the pigeons - some musings on virtual art
Imogen and the pigeons
For the next few posts I will be doing a walk
through of my new build Imogen and the pigeons.
If you have not seen it, yet plan to, then I would suggest not to read
the posts. This post will just be about
some visitor metrics for those who find it interesting.
People often question as to whether virtual
worlds can succeed as a means to bring in that global awareness. IBM, Caldwell Banker and others came hoping
to tap into a worldwide audience yet stumbled and left weeping uncontrollably. For companies of that scale perhaps virtual worlds, at this time, really can't
produce what they require. But let me
compare my experience from a much smaller scale.
As a painter I
have one or possibly two large art openings a year within the gallery. Each show lasts a month and has that dreaded
red carpet and wine style opening reception.
The opening night reception is
essential to attend and do well at as there are literally hundreds and hundreds
of artists waiting in the wings always trying to take your spot within the
gallery. If you have bad sales for a show
then you are suddenly on shaky ground.
The opening night is where the vast majority of sales or future sales
come from. A few years ago Toronto, remarkably, had a Tornado. I mean Toronto doesn't have fucking tornadoes! I don't know if we have ever had one..
anyway that was on my opening night... yay!
Others artists get scheduled during the bitter cold and snow of February
and deal with winter storms etc.
Quite a bit really rests on that opening night and you just pray for sunshine
and warm weather. The opening reception
might get, I am going to guess, around 300 people over the course of the night. All with their backs to the paintings
chatting. Then each day for the rest of
the month there is a trickle of people popping in. Again I will guess and say around 30 people a
day? I really am not sure but for the entire exhibit the vast
majority are residents of Toronto.
With Imogen
and the pigeons, there have been just under 20,000 visitors attending from all over the world since its opening
January 13th. Some days saw 1000 and the
average was about 350 a day. Visits have
ranged from an hour, five hours to actual days in length. I am in a guessing mood, so now I will guess
that nobody has ever stood and looked at one of my paintings for an hour
solid. I think it is safe to say that nobody
has stood for a half an hour either. Think
about it.. what is the longest you have ever been immersed with an
artwork? Could you lose yourself in the
Mona Lisa for 5 hours?
For a while I
have suspected that the virtual medium, as an immersive art form, can easily
complete against other strong mediums such as traditional 2d and cinema. For example, a gallery or museum would be
ecstatic if they could keep their guests entertained for five hours inside a
structure housing centuries worth of masterpieces. Or in regards to cinema, I recently saw the
Hobbit movie and it was 3 hours long. And
it felt like it too. Few movies would
dare attempt to go longer than that, and I don't blame them, watching a three
hour movie is pretty much the ceiling for me.
So why can someone potentially spend more time in a virtual art
environment than in some of the other mediums? What are the differences?
Well there are
many, but one, I think, is the
challenging nature and rewards of interaction combined with immersion. We need not be passive observers in a virtual
environment. We are a participant within
the artwork rather than a visitor separated and left sitting inactively while
being told a story. I believe that a
degree of difficulty is effective in order to create a bond between the viewer and the
artwork. It creates a sense of direct
connection and achievement that is lacking in the interaction between a viewer
in a gallery looking at a painting or someone watching a movie. The difficulty is finding the balance between
the artistic environment being
frustrating or else wise rewarding.
I
recently did a talk for York University whose students came to Immersiva as
part of their course syllabus. The talk was
about whether the artist should challenge the viewer with the understanding
that viewers facing a difficult creation may leave, and the question is should
we, as an artist, care? Is there an
acceptable loss rate that we can deal with if we are attempting to push the
medium into areas which we are not quite sure if they will succeed or not. I recall an American artist once complaining
to me that he didn't want to do "work" to see art. He essentially wanted art placed in front of
him to view in a more subservient manner much like traditional forms.
My perspective is that with a new medium such as virtual
art, don't focus on the lazy or unwilling as there are multitudes who will
cherish your work elsewhere. Know your
audience and build for them as they will appreciate it. Help those who request
it but ignore those with a sense of entitlement.
I personally don't see myself in a role as having to create
art which is simplified to a degree whereby it is accessible to every single person who comes to visit my
virtual art experiments.
Because really that is what artists should be doing here. Experimenting in a new art form.
Figuring out what makes this medium unique over other
traditional mediums such as painting, sculpture, cinema or performance. What can our virtual space be used for that sets
it apart as a unique form of art? Does
it have the ability to excel past the strengths of other mediums?
I have said in the past that I think of my artwork here in
virtual worlds almost as paintings you can enter and explore. The beauty of a painting, the immersion of
cinema and then meshed in with a new type of open ended freedom of movement
combined with interaction. There are many new and interesting techniques to experiment
with inside the virtual artform. The
one which I brought up at the beginning, that ties into my new build Imogen and
the pigeons, is creating immersion within the artistic environment by creating
scenarios which challenge the viewer. I
generally don't put out text or arrows to tell the viewer where to go or what
to do. I feel this can
break the immersion so I let the viewer discover on their own.
This is how Imogen was designed.
The visitor enters the story by passing a crumbling store
called Rebirth Life Encryption. Before
the collapse of this society, it was a
service which recorded the life of a person at the moment of their death. They save this memory onto a machine, waiting
for the day when that stored life could be transferred into a new vessel thus
allowing for a form of immortality.
The store has been in ruins for centuries with all the
machines failing as they become saturated with sand and debris. The viewer may discover that one machine
still functions. If they use their
camera and go inside they will see a nameplate fallen down... Imogen.
This part is what I call a pre-hint. A layer of the story that becomes apparent
upon the second time they explore. The
first time through, the story may seem like Imogens dreaming, but the ambiguity
often has people go through a second time and pre-hints now become apparent and
a new perspective on the narrative emerges. The vast majority don't notice the detail of Imogen being a
recorded memory of a life or forget later on in the build. Some explore the ground level, never
realizing that there is a story above to discover and to reach it they must
find a way to get to the beginning.
There are four ways up to the start of this build. A relic of the past in the form of a flying
chair, a difficult series of stairs that
appear and collapse as the viewer moves along them and two easier methods. There is a range for different skill levels
and anyone can get up there if they wish to.
Personality types are filtered through this area where the
easily frustrated or indifferent give up while those who appreciate the
challenge or are just determined continue.
Thus as you explore deeper into the
build you are often around like minded people and there is a sense of
community.
People have told me for years
how they met their best friends or partners while exploring one of my
narratives. Virtual artworks can also be
social experiences, Imagine trying to socialize with a stranger during the
Hobbit? It would be annoying but perhaps
not in a virtual environment.
All those whom I have spoken to who pass the climbing part of
the story talk about having had clammy hands or feelings of a fear of heights
when navigating. They talk about being nervous and truly
anxious for fear of falling, their body reacts and they are physically invested in the story. And when
they do finally reach the top there is a feeling of achievement and for some
exultation.
The visitor is definitely part of the narrative now. They are not watching someone climb but
rather doing it themselves. A misstep
could result in a fall and at worst the actual death of their avatar. There are repercussions for mistakes, but the
challenge for myself was to find a balance where it was meaningful rather than
frustrating for the viewer. Letting the
impatient leave and customizing the experience for a particular audience who
know and appreciate the work I create, while also helping those new to the
experience who find it difficult but are intrigued.
Trying out new ideas that may push the medium forward rather
than worrying about alienating a segment of the population who don't like to
"work" to see art. You can
compose artwork that everyone find
acceptable, but which won't potentially move the medium forward.
People spend a long time in my work for a variety of
reasons. It is the challenge, the
emotion and narrative. The interaction
and sense of discovery of secret details.
The layering and because parts are often social. You can go with a friend and help each other
navigate or discuss the narrative.
At the beginning I usually am around the build to help
people with the difficult parts if they need it, but what always happens is a
form of social guide emerges in the community.
People who overcome the obstacles in the narrative, finding little
secrets along the way, who then bring others to share their discoveries... who
in turn bring others and so on. They
discover elements of the artwork which they know the majority have not uncovered,
and this makes the build special to them.
The more difficulties they overcome or layers they uncover connects them
deeper emotionally to the artwork.
Anyway, I find this stuff interesting to think about and thought I would share it. The next few posts will be about the
story for Imogen and the pigeons and also I have a great announcement to
make. I have finally finished a 38 min
movie combining The Daughter of Gears, the Rabbicorn story and Standby into one
long machinima, and I am also creating a real life book for it which can be
purchased. This was all part of my new
media grant from the Ontario arts council and I am so happy to have it almost
complete now. I hope to upload it to
youtube soon if they will accept something that long.
Comments
you (the artist) and us (the fans) actually combine to become the art... sitting in front of a collection of pixels.. walking away to cook dinner.. play with the kids.. come back.. and still have that part of ourselves immersed in your creation.. speaks to the new medium.. great article Bryn.. love what you do
The rest of the visit to the museum consisted of wandering the other exhibits pretty much at random. We would rush through one room, leaving me breathless and wondering about all the work and care that went into the objects in that room but would then land in another room and be entranced by something and spend a while there. It got me to thinking about how a work of art can arrest us or not and how we decide what we want to spend time with and what not.
One of the things I often think about with Second Life art installations (yours in particular) is this feeling that I can walk into the art and become, temporarily, a part of it. I can stand on or in something, look at it through an unexpected angle, sit on a chair, or interact with some active component. In a museum, there is so often the velvet rope or glass case. The art is here; you are there. Don't touch! I so wanted to touch those terra-cotta warriors—one of them had these remarkably detailed soles on his shoes that I wanted to rub my hands along—but of course that would have been inappropriate. By contrast, in a virtual world, there need be no such boundary and the art can more readily incorporate the viewer into it (and I suppose vice versa).
One of the saddest moments I had in an art museum was when I went to see an exhibit of some of Alexander Calder's works. They had several mobiles and even some of his little wire toys. The sad part was that the mobiles were up high, out of reach of hand and breath, so they weren't moving… and the toys were locked away in display cases, with few exceptions not even motorized. So here was all this art that was meant to be interactive and alive, sitting there static and dead. I understand the reasons for that, but it made for a sad memory… like seeing what had been a beautiful, living bird stuffed and mounted in a display case.
I guess in the end what I'm saying is that virtual world art can live and breathe. Art in a museum setting ends up just sitting there, nothing more than a precious object that must be protected from oils, and breath, and flash photography.