The VHS selection at the Danbury Public Library has dwindled to about 30 titles. VHS players have been out of production for almost a year. Kodak's infamous Kodachrome has been retired. The news is free domain.
We are walking into a digital future, and we're doing it a few pounds lighter. Clunky tapes have been replaced by sleek discs and tiny flash drives, darkrooms by laptops and desktop printers. The air around us is vibrating with wireless connections and cell phone signals. Instant connectivity is our reality.
Songs can be summoned from the air! The actual structure for the presentation of music has changed. We listen to playlists as much as we do albums, perhaps more. Albums can be broken up and bought piecemeal. It seems the process of appreciation has sped up, and while in the past we looked to preserve that which we held dear, now we are looking to share it with everyone.
My 35mm camera hasn't seen the light of day since sometime last fall. Though I love the physicality, science and integrity of film, it's easier and timelier to adjust for color and contrast on a computer, and, ultimately, I want to share the pictures via the internet.
Yet a photograph is simple; all you need is some viewing light and it can be enjoyed. An unprinted digital photograph is specks of information on a hard drive or a server; it is something almost intangible. I look at my computer, full of pictures and music and essays, and imagine the hopelessness of knowing all the things it holds and not being able to turn it on. There is something to be said for a physical object, no matter how heavy or cumbersome. Be it a book, photograph, or vinyl recording, it's just there. It will always be accessible because it dwells in our dimension.
We are more connected than ever, but what exactly is connecting us?
Friday, July 3, 2009
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The ability to choose which psychical object rest inside a space can become an expression of the dweller. We look into a post-human room, stripped of its human interaction. Walls, windows, music, lighting, all controlled via computer. Everything stripped of its expression. Sure it started out to be a great idea. Lets get rid of all the clutter, and make more room for expression, art, and life. What it ends up doing to us is numbing our lives. Rapid manufactured existence.
ReplyDeleteWe have eyes of skin, we can feel whats around us. The space we dwell is an extension of ourselves for us and selected others.
You can feel the weight something holds, you can feel other humans when they are near.
You cannot feel anything about me but my words here.
(plus what if the viruses on the internet enter your brain?)