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25.12.2008 00:27
#17
Notes on Second Life Phenomenology
Recent SL texts on the installation The Accidental Artist in Second Life
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Some recent texts - most URLs work -




The Accidental Artist installation in Second Life

( Some recent images of Julu Twine (Alan Dojoji with Sunflower Aichi and
MinDBlinD Setsuko dancing in SL w/ avadance movements (these are quite
beautiful) - http://www.alansondheim.org/ dis png series. )

Opensource Obscure suggested I send a description of the SL installation
to the SL blogs; s/he offered send it hirself, if I provided a descrip-
tion. I've been thinking about this - the description is below. I might
add that this is probably one of the few times - if not the only time - an
artwork in Second Life has been tended for such a long period (half a
year); that its constant deconstruction provides a way of thinking about
being-virtual in the first/last place; that it dies into thinking about
the relationship between inscription and culture; that it develops a
poetics of the virtual as well; and that it might be fun. I'd appreciate
it greatly if you would pass this description along. The exhibition will
be up in one form or another until the end of February.

====

Alan Sondheim has been working on an installation which changes almost
daily at http://slurl.com/secondlife/Odyssey/48/12/22 . Called The
Accidental Artist, it's based on a deconstruction of the Odyssey gallery
space and a phenomenology of 'utterly alien' objects which can't be easily
assigned symbolic meanings. The piece is huge and has five layers to it -
an undersea space with high-speed movement beneath the gallery floor; the
exhibition space itself; the outdoors space in front of the exhibition
space (up to the sea-wall); a 'sky-sphere'; and a series of objects above
and below the sky-sphere. Almost everything moves in the installation, but
Sondheim has stilled most of the objects in the exhibition space itself,
so it becomes a kind of archaeology of past movement. Some of the objects
in the sky and beneath the gallery flee from any avatar in the vicinity;
they can be pushed indefinitely high up in the sky.

Sondheim says the work represents a sexualized space, a mind-space, a
space which always has to be negotiated (it's not easy to get around, but
there are any number of objects that teleport you from one place to
another), a space dealing with the phenomenology of the body, and a space
which can only be realized in Second Life - none of the movements and
objects could exist outside a virtual world. Sondheim also makes it
difficult to say what is an object, and what's not - almost everything
emits peculiar particles that rise lazily like smoke in long trails. The
sound itself mirrors this, with eerie songs about avatars by Azure Carter
competing with local sound emitters presenting bits of Sondheim's music.

At times, Sandy Baldwin and Sondheim (or Sondheim solo) perform in the
space; the avatars are also complex with their own sets of movements.
Sondheim has worked extensively with motion-capture equipment at West
Virginia University - this included Gary Manes' rewriting of the mocap
software itself and remapping the sensors. The result is that his avatars
(Julu Twine and Alan Dojoji) perform movements and choreographies drawn
from real life, but impossible in real life - arms and legs fly through
themselves, for example. The resulting 'dances' have been used by
performers in real life as either backdrop or choreographies themselves.

Do check this out - there's nothing else like it in Second Life, and
because of the constant changes, it's hard to know what to expect next.


Dreaming of Double-Spheres

I dreamed of two spheres, enormous, harboring the sky - one foundered/
floundered on the floor of the exhibition space, the other tethered to the
floor of the undersea environment. One surface, one beneath the surface,
both manipulated within unforgiving non-existent water. So there would be
a comfort and a womb on the surface and in the water, independent of a
given. I dream of these wombs as well; comforting, comforted, and safe,
Julu Twine may walk about, sit, stop to think, even fly within the filter-
ed realm. All space is open to hir; s/he may fly out anywhere, anywhen;
s/he senses kindness, hir own kind. Yet a bench or sofa or pillow or
couch; s/he sits, hir want is that of sitting, curling up, turning inward,
while the vast slow space moves around hir. So it is sleepiness and
sleepy-time, no harshness or longing of part-objects, no languor or
yearning towards or away from the physical. The moires promise infinity,
premise upon infinity and its asymptotic, signifiers of vortex, swirl,
attractors.

So is this theory or vision? Are visions thought-experiments, are there
outcomes? Whatever is imagined is pastiche, palimpsest; one makes the real
from the reel. I can struggle for meaning which the viewer brings to the
site. To cite the site is to inscribe, write-in. Culture is citation. But
where is the theory? Theory articulates the real through its own articul-
ation; it's always boot-strapped. The phenomenology of experience is not
the experience of phenomenology, entangled with abjection, and in this
theory or vision sexuality is inscribed or uninscribed, but presenced,
fragmented, fluxed. It's the sexuality of part-objects, of the voice, of
stumbling or scuffling, of sputtering or shuddering - the sexuality of
loss, of being-lost, of desire, of being-desired, of containment and
release. There's no end to it, there's no boundaries, but everything's
boundary, boundaries fall apart, and everywhere there's smoke, limbs and
organs. I try to justify this thing that keeps undergoing construction,
this transforming-place, there's more than pleasure, less than defuge. I
get nowhere; I'm bounded by time, an interval, however an interval, so
there are boundary-conditions as well as coordinates, where Odyssey
locates me, where I play. I can't even think of this as a serious game,
I can't even think of it.

Chasing

Chasing sky-spheres up above the atmosphere.
Chasing sky-spheres pushing from below (spheres have proximity sensors).
Chasing sky-spheres from within (enormous speed to nowhere).
Once up there it's nowhere, it all appears the same.
Appears equivalent or perhaps identical.
Whatever it is remains exact in appearance to others slightly below.
Then below, there is no below, or what there is is categorized by number.
Categorized by single number, that is what is interpreted as 'height.'
As 'height' by human interpreter in dialog through or within an avatar.
I haven't determined whether out of world is vertical as well.
If it's vertical, sky-spheres will disappear if they're pushed.
If they're pushed too much, and all that work goes out the window.
Goes out the screen or above the screen or beyond the screen.
Anyway out of sight, if not out of mind.
Sometimes to be returned, sometimes not.
Then Julu Twine has fun even falling the long way down.
Julu Twine does land on her feet.
S/he always beats the spheres (they're still up there, s/he's not).
S/he always leaves, when s/he leaves, they're left behind.
They're left behind, the prey's always left behind, they fall.
Slowly like snowflakes they fall, like feathers they fall.
They fall because they're lonely and when s/he leaves they fall.
When s/he's back. s/he sees them from a distance.
They're back! they're back! they're back!
Perhaps this time, s/he'll stay away...

automorphism!

"...a guiding principle in modern mathematics is this lesson: _Whenever
you have to do with a structure-endowed entity E try to determine its
group of automorphisms,_ the group of those element-wise transformations
which leave all structural relations undisturbed. You can expect to gain a
deep insight into the constitution of E in this way. After that you may
start to investigate symmetric configurations of elements, i.e. configura-
tions which are invariant under a certain subgroup of the group of all
automorphisms; and it may be advisable, before looking for such configu-
rations, to study the subgroups themselves, e.g. the subgroup of those
automorphisms which leave one element fixed, or leave two distinct
elements fixed, and investigate what discontinuous or finite subgroups
there exist, and so forth." (Hermann Weyl, Symmetry, p. 144; E = sigma.)

I propose this principle as critical guidance in the phenomenology of a
virtual world: textures, motions, manifolds and surfaces, curves and
geodesics may be analyzed in such a way as to _eliminate the object or
process_ - an elimination that brings forth subtextual dynamics without
subject or object.

These the images present here are at best a lure implicating us in abject
desire, that is desire seducing away from the inverse punctum of the
absent object or process. It is here that our _interest_ lies in critique
in the first place, a place which is dis/placed into that very structure
that forms and effaces its basis. Leave the human behind, confront the
human - two sides fucking with dissipation and exhaustion the only result.
Then nothingness is apparent to everyone, that encounter with death in the
wires, in the last glance of the supercession of thought.



the prim world

as if my suture were absorbed, as if the stitch-in-time could be
forgotten, "nothing is father than the truth" - as if the truth were
phenomenological horizon - it is not - for father, read farther, or not,
as the world's case is all there is (and the mother floods me with her
tears) (and I flood the world with tears). the goal: to disappear inside
myself. the goal: "to make the world disappear, I hide in the midst of
inconceivable chaos." the goal: trick death, disappear, this time once and
for all!:drowning, i am wiped into existence, sutured with wet cloth which
writes and erases me. my prim thinks for me, my prim is my skin, which I
unravel from avatar, move from second life into first. my skin is
boundless, point-source, infinite collapse. my skin is a cornucopia of
eyes that promise intimacy on the premise of protocol. my skin says,
always, nothig could be farther than the truth. my skin says, I write
myself into existence, I write myself out of existence. what my skin knows
is sutured into the guise of the human, nothing of this is original, in
truth I have said it before, but now it is flooded, I am drowning in the
vacuum of the real.:first flooding. the grounds appear as if wet, what
does that mean? surely there is no water. water is everywhere, just
another prim structure. it's movement is apparent. but in dreams, floods
occur, and I am lost in miasma, too many shapes and flickers, my eyes take
over my body, I am reduced to disposition. caught in waters, I drown;
caught in drowning, I suffocate in an airless void.::

Your avatar dissolves my absorption is not an issue, what excretes, emits,
spews, what is It?! hobgoblin with ideohydraulesis!

My absorption is not an issue, what excretes, emits, spews, what is It?
is your chemistry here...
Use of uninitialized value in join or string at .juluold line 79,
<STDIN> line 4.
Use of uninitialized value in join or string at .juluold line 79,
<STDIN> line 4.
Use of uninitialized value in concatenation (.) or string at .juluold
line 87, <STDIN> line 4.
Use of uninitialized value in open at .juluold line 90, <STDIN> line 4.
Use of uninitialized value in concatenation (.) or string at .juluold
line 95, <STDIN> line 4.

as if my suture were absorbed, as if the stitch-in-time could be
forgotten, "nothing is father than the truth" - as if the truth were
phenomenological horizon - it is not - for father, read farther, or not,
as the world's case is all there is (and the mother floods me with her
tears) (and I flood the world with tears). the goal: to disappear inside
myself. the goal: "to make the world disappear, I hide in the midst of
inconceivable chaos." the goal: trick death, disappear, this time once and
for all! calls forth sloughings hobgoblin, hungered, making things. in the
breaks, as if my suture were absorbed, as if the stitch-in-time could be
forgotten, "nothing is father than the truth" - as if the truth were
phenomenological horizon - it is not - for father, read farther, or not,
as the world's case is all there is (and the mother floods me with her
tears) (and I flood the world with tears). the goal: to disappear inside
myself. the goal: "to make the world disappear, I hide in the midst of
inconceivable chaos." the goal: trick death, disappear, this time once and
for all! is , 041], drowning, i am wiped into existence, sutured with wet
cloth which writes and erases me. my prim thinks for me, my prim is my
skin, which I unravel from avatar, move from second life into first. my
skin is boundless, point-source, infinite collapse. my skin is a
cornucopia of eyes that promise intimacy on the premise of protocol. my
skin says, always, nothig could be farther than the truth. my skin says, I
write myself into existence, I write myself out of existence. what my skin
knows is sutured into the guise of the human, nothing of this is original,
in truth I have said it before, but now it is flooded, I am drowning in
the vacuum of the real.?

... hobgoblin is absorption is not an issue, what excretes, emits,
spews, what is It? on wet flesh, it's hobgoblin?

Are you satisfied with your as if my suture were absorbed, as if the
stitch-in-time could be forgotten, "nothing is father than the truth" - as
if the truth were phenomenological horizon - it is not - for father, read
farther, or not, as the world's case is all there is (and the mother
floods me with her tears) (and I flood the world with tears). the goal: to
disappear inside myself. the goal: "to make the world disappear, I hide in
the midst of inconceivable chaos." the goal: trick death, disappear, this
time once and for all!? yes

Your avatar dissolves my absorption is not an issue, what excretes, emits,
spews, what is It?!
hobgoblin with ideohydraulesis! (slough)


Sabat. The Ruin.

The objects are static, nothing moves; smoke pours forth, smoke gathers
video. The static objects construct archaeology; one wanders among yes-
terday's fury. In the sky, everything is as it was; on the ground, moire
becomes you - it's your movement that makes screened patterns transform
among themselves.

This is a wonderful environment to wander around in, if you can find your
way around.

This is what one is accustomed to - sculptural installation filled with
optical amazement.

Perhaps the site is a ruin. Perhaps the objects are left behind. Perhaps
the spews are exhausts. Perhaps this is a remnant of enormous activity
over a long period of time. Perhaps there was a drought. Perhaps there was
an economic collapse. Perhaps there was nothing left to trade.

There was nothing left to trade. Virtual monies inflated beyond anything
anyone dreamed of. They couldn't be shored by real monies. Behind the
scenes, real monies dry up; servers and routers falter, storage becomes
creaky, bad sectors flourish on hard drives. The virtual world shudders
and shakes. Everything moves jerkily if anything moves at all. The spew
continues because the spew requires no intervention. The world is static.

It's as if embers glow forever. It's as if dynamics becomes museology.
It's an archaeology of the trace. It's a trace which disappears as servers
wink out. It's a memory and these still images and videos below.

It behooves you to go into the site while you can. World-wide, everything
is chaos. There is respite in the ruins. Nothing worse can happen, can it?
And their strange beauty, so uncanny. It's how you imagined things from
the very beginning. It's the stuff your dreams were made of. You know it's
a conjuring trick but you're mesmerized. You know it's prims and protocols
but you're seduced.

Visit the site while you can. This is the future minus the steroids. This
is a form of wandering and who you may come across. There have been 1302
visitations to date. Perhaps there is a visitation now and you are missing
it. Perhaps you have never wandered in inconceivable spaces and you are
afraid of them and there is so much to learn.

But there is a hiatus now and you have time to learn and time to visit.
The slightest gap, almost a liminal space, you're worried about the
future, you're worried about your future, but just for a moment, you have
a bit of time, you'll sit back, relax, you're curious, you'll take the
time, time is all you have, it's all any of us have, the dollar slides,
dolorous, the site remains, everything is still there, a few things moving
up in the sky, but everything waiting for you, everything waiting for you.



description of the world in a few sentences


one wheel cuts through the thread of objects connected by the viewer as if
they were material of a single line; well they are of course, coordinates
among coordinates, connectivity on some remote level within database and
processes. the wheel doesn't rotate, the line is not a line, the movement
is not movement, the material is not material, the objects aren't objects
- the epistemology meets the ontology on the singularity of protocol or
code, collapses within the database. databases do nothing; there are no
processes, no dynamics, only decay. there are no databases; there is for
the moment organized substance. connectivities travel through the same but
there is no travel, no connectivities, only quantities transformed into
quantities; the clock that governs does not govern, is not a clock; the
clock that governs is outside time. the clock is invisible to the database, invisible to the objects; the phenomenology and dynamics of time are
invisible to the database; there is no time; there is ordering; there is
no ordering; there is database-substance, singularity smeared within and
without the hinge of epistemology and ontology. let us say within and
without the database, epistemology is the subject and ontology the object
and let us say that the hinge is the memory or uncanny remnant of this or
any other operation. we can approach the truth in this manner from outside
consideration; there is no approach, no truth, no we involved in what can
only be considered complicity in crime, and that is what remains after
possible worlds and natural kinds are exhausted, nothing in this instance
and there is no nothing, only the virtual.





I long for the comfort of a universe don't you see, where death is recompense & kindly & of the sort that a kind machine might produce, one of a
maternal clothing that might cover a travesty of pain. In my installation
I make a machine which is uncountable and facing faces whose eyes guide a
one towards a web of comfort, and where pulsing life seems kindly too and
held in high regard. When you visit my installation, you visit me, and
have a good time of it because I am not there in control of mind or body
or direction and you can leave when you want and I will not know of that
or will know only later after you are gone and I will have a trace, that
email letter that comes nightly at 3 am eastern time, announcing the statistics for the day, including who was present on my land which is borrowed
land, who was unique and new, who was old and fraught with my presence
including myself repeatedly and Julu Twine and Alan Dojoji. That letter
which I fondly wait for! will whisper to me a defining presence that makes
of comfort something beautiful in your visitation.

I long for a universe of defining moments that cradle me in their warmth
and love so that I will never die and will see what animals and plants do
emerge on this planet and how this planet circles and circles for ever so
long and how I will never fear death again and will always be curious and
very quiet, I will promise I will be very quiet, I will live in the home
of silence, I will live in the house of whispers, & there will be many
murmurs & I will be among them, there is so much to see and so much to
hear in this world of wonder, in this ecstatic world. Julu Twine will come
and join me in many ways, and Travis too and Kathy and Nikuko and Paul and
someday Azure will come and Richard will join me. & we will live freely
among them.

O universe of so many worlds, you moving so very fast, I need time, so
many defining moments, soft walls and boundaries of beauty and love, you
can almost hear words among them, you will see true worlds and you will
see time & it will not be frightening & will not bear the stench of death
and slaughter & will come embracing


Date: Wed, 29 Oct 2008 01:04:40 -0400 (EDT)

The Alan Sondheim Mail Archive


(given the quantity of my work, this is wonderful I think. I am full of myself.
Decklin Foster set this up and the site is lean and works really well. - Alan)

This is an archive of works sent by Alan Sondheim to various mailing
lists. You can read the most recent messages below, or browse by year:

1999 2000 2001 2002 2003 2004 2005 2006 2007 2008

There is also an Atom feed. If you notice any broken links, please contact
Decklin Foster, who runs this site. Decklin Foster

http://sondheim.rupamsunyata.org/

===========================================











the bad patch


couldn't get the stutter in the script, i.e.
{rotate m degrees}{stop for n seconds}{repeat}
too stupid to program this, too ignorant.
things falling off world in all directions.
have to put them back, what's their name.
too stupid to change names, too lazy.
names a bad patch, i do not know them.
i do not know their names, slowed them.
slowed some of the wheels, gift for me.
gift for me, i can catch them.
i can catch them make them something new.
too lazy to make them new, what else is new.
what else is new, i go through a bad patch.
julu twine the bad patch. alan sondheim the bad patch.
nikuko the bad patch. alan dojoji the bad patch.
second life the bad patch, first life the bad patch.
lifeless the bad patch, unlife the bad patch.
tho i hate them i do not want to die.
death the bad patch, patch the bad patch.
patch patch patch the bad patch.
patch patch patch.

"Well that's a fine how-do-you-do!"


[14:48] Alan Dojoji: If you're in the outer section turn the video
on -
[14:49] Alan Dojoji: I've been tuning it.
[14:49] Alan Dojoji: That's a LONG time in SL
[14:49] Alan Dojoji: I've been changing the space almost daily
[14:50] Alan Dojoji: I've been here a lot - I don't know how long
I'll have to use the space (Sugar's been out of touch)
[14:50] Alan Dojoji: and there's a lot I want to do
[14:51] Alan Dojoji: I hope so - I have performances coming up and
want to carefully deconstruct the space, not take it down quickly
[14:56] Alan Dojoji: Fairly often. It's gotten more confusing/denser
as time goes on
[14:56] Alan Dojoji: I keep adding the physical attribute to some of
the objects to watch/record them going off-world
[14:57] Alan Dojoji: And I'm trying to make the space a kind of
liquid architecture/malleable space/deconstruction, whatever, doing a
lot of writing about it
[14:57] Alan Dojoji: :-) it's hard to create density in such a small
area - so I don't intrude on other works in Odyssey -
[14:57] Alan Dojoji: It's like Manhattan
[14:57] Alan Dojoji: it goes up and down, not sideways
[14:58] Alan Dojoji: Manhattan is HUGE underground with subways
pipes water conduits archaeological remnants, fairly amazing
[14:58] Alan Dojoji: But it doesn't move like this and it weighs
more.
[14:59] Alan Dojoji: That's part of the idea, a kind of negotiation
[14:59] Alan Dojoji: My avatar is almost impossible to move at this
point - I can't see around it -
[14:59] Alan Dojoji: but it writes in the sky
[15:00] Alan Dojoji: No, I think text would ruin it - it's more a
landscape without signage, some sort of wilderness
[15:01] Alan Dojoji: it connects directly with the writings which
are kind of a naturalist's take on the thing. like looking at
fossils.
[15:04] Alan Dojoji: I collected them when I was youmnger - a kind
of reading you have to do in an archaic landscape
[15:05] Alan Dojoji: constantly with video and images, but it's hard
to get the details.
[15:05] Alan Dojoji: I'm running video now -
[15:05] Alan Dojoji: I'd like to get a decent record but it's
difficult
[15:06] Alan Dojoji: On the other hand we're making a cd, some of
this music will be on it.
[15:07] Alan Dojoji: Yes if you run the music in the space - there
are different songs in different regions
[15:08] Alan Dojoji: I think the sounds adds but I've heard it too
often - I don't change it as much as the rest of it
[15:11] Alan Dojoji: Wow - it kept your avatar that long! I'm going
to log off myself at the moment; I want to edit the video
[15:11] Alan Dojoji: Nice seeing you as well! Perhaps in Sweden -
[15:11] Alan Dojoji: Do look down below the exhibition space and in
the skysphere above if you have tihe time - they're different
[15:11] Alan Dojoji: Thanks - talk with you soon -
[15:11] Alan Dojoji: bye now
[15:12] Alan Dojoji is Offline




 
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