ours before the April 22 opening of the New York Digital
Salon art exhibition, Alex Galloway was making sure that
"Carnivore," his Internet-based artwork, was running properly. Once
or twice a minute, as designed, it would splash a bold streak of
color across a large computer screen. A passer-by stopped to watch,
and when the screen did not change for an extended time, she asked,
"Is it working?" Mr. Galloway replied, "You have to be patient."
Visitors to the Digital Salon have been even more patient. The
salon, organized by the School of Visual Arts in New York, has
changed little since the first exhibition in 1993. Although the
salon has grown from a small display of digital prints into an
annual showcase for dozens of Web sites, animated videos and other
computer-generated works, many of the same artists were "hung" year
after year, making a dynamic genre seem static. As a result, the
salon has never produced much excitement, even among its artists. As
one recently said of this annual gallery and Web exhibition, it has
been the "Digital Sal-yawn."
So for the salon's 10th anniversary its organizers decided to
abandon the annual open-call format in which jurors would sift
through 1,000 recent works and choose the best. Instead the salon
invited 10 new-media curators to review the genre's history and
select the 10 works that they each considered to be benchmarks. The
list, sort of a 100-piece starter set for the digital-art canon, was
published last fall in the electronic-arts magazine Leonardo. (The
magazine's contents, including the curators' essays, are on the
salon's Web site, at www.nydigitalsalon.org.)
Bruce Wands, the salon's director, said, "The public isn't really
sure what digital art is yet." Ideally the salon selections would
tell people exactly what it is. To show them, 19 of the works can be
viewed in the salon exhibition, "Vectors: Digital Art of Our Time,"
at the Courtyard Gallery of the World Financial Center in Lower
Manhattan through May 25.
Is it working? Well, no. If the salon's goal is to introduce
audiences to important works in digital-art history, gallery
visitors are more likely to leave wondering why these were choosen.
Except for a confusing color-coded timeline near the entry and a
handout that describes rather than interprets the works, viewers
take an unguided tour. And because the works are arranged neither
chronologically nor by genre, there is little sense of how the art
has progressed or become diverse.
Nor does it help that only a fraction of the roughly 100 artworks
is on display. Mr. Wands said that to show all of them would have
cost nearly $1 million, and plans for a comprehensive exhibition had
to be cut when fund-raising became difficult after 9/11. Still,
there are some curious choices among the included works. For
instance "Apartment" by Martin Wattenberg and Marek Walczak was
exhibited at the Whitney Museum in 2001 and can be viewed on the
Internet. So, why show it again, when Char Davies's virtual-reality
works, favored by two curators, have not been in New York since
1995?
Similarly, Mr. Galloway's "Carnivore" deserved better treatment.
As he conceived it the piece monitors electronic exchanges between
computers, then uses various artists' software to convert them into
works that can actually be seen or heard. One of the aims of
"Carnivore" is to show how different digital artists use the same
raw material to get different results. Yet Mr. Galloway's
interpretation is the only one being exhibited. Which is somewhat
like going to the "Matisse Picasso" exhibition and then just looking
at the Picassos.
What's really missing in an exhibition with 10 diverse curatorial
contributors is a firm organizing hand. The World Financial Center's
gallery may be lovely as corporate office space goes, but it is far
from ideal for exhibiting media art. Save your visit for a rainy
day, when sunlight won't wash out the atrium's computer screens.
Timothy Druckrey, an independent curator in New York and editor
of "Ars Electronica: Facing the Future" (M.I.T. Press, 2001), a
history of the 25-year-old European electronic-arts festival, said
that skimpy support for new-media art in the United States made it
nearly impossible for cultural institutions here to mount effective
retrospectives. They simply don't have the history to support them.
It is probably telling that none of the works from any of the nine
previous salons was considered good enough to make the greatest-hits
lists for the 10th salon.
Mr. Druckrey said that in Europe exhibitions were based on
decades of commissions and encouragement for new-media art rather
than a sudden shift from open-call competitions. "To attempt to leap
into legitimacy in this way demonstrates the woeful condition of
media art in the United States," he said of the Digital Salon.
Mr. Wands, who is also director of the graduate computer-art
department at the School of Visual Arts, said he was disappointed
with the salon's budget-induced limits. He urged visitors to view
this year's salon as a group of events, including a recent two-day
symposium and some concerts, rather than as a single exhibition. He
expressed hope that the show's traveling version would be
larger.
Because of the amount of effort involved in developing this
year's salon, the 11th edition will not be held until the fall of
2005. By then it may have a harder time attracting an audience.
Several competing groups are discussing the possibility of holding
festivals in New York and California like the Ars Electronica event
in Linz, Austria.
At the same time the biannual Boston Cyberarts Festival is
building momentum. The third festival opened there on April 26 and
runs through Sunday. Since 1999 its director, George Fifield, has
corralled 60 diverse cultural institutions in the Boston area into
presenting exhibitions and concerts that coincide with festival
events. The festival has a vibrancy that the salon sorely lacks. (A
schedule is at bostoncyberarts.org.)
"The artists of the future will have never known a world without
computers," Mr. Wands said during his opening remarks for the salon.
The Digital Salon has had 10 years to establish itself as an
important forum for the digital arts, but so far it has squandered
the opportunity. Will the Digital Salon's visitors stay patient? Or
will they, like Mr. Galloway's passer-by, simply walk
away?