Review: “Being Human” + “Creature Feature” at Arts Fort Worth

Being Human

For the past two months, I’ve been immersed in the online course Understanding AI and Art taught by Bruce Campbell at Rhode Island School of Design. My goal was to understand how the AI generators work and learn more about artists using this technology in their practice. After multiple experimentations with a variety of image generators, I found them to be inherently biased towards western white males. I’m not sure why that surprised me. I guess I expected the cyber world to be more egalitarian. When artist, educator, and curator Zack Nguyen contacted me about his current exhibition featuring five artists who explore the intersections between humans and technology, I was curious if/how AI might play a role in their work. 

In Nguyen’s curatorial statement, he writes, “Being Human is an alternative world that invites the audience to explore the complex interplay between personhood and the ever-evolving sphere of technology.” The exhibition questions not only how we interact and rely upon technology, but also how that reliance takes its toll on our individual and collective psyches. The artists’ work is at once playful, invoking subversive humor but also critically examining the effects of technology on our culture. 

Texas sound artist Caroline Trotter’s installation Who’s Imitating Who? (2023) uses ChatGPT as a tool to explore language. The work features two screens on a table surrounded by an abundance of fake flowers. Indecipherable vocal sounds emit from hidden speakers. The screens contain scrolling text of poetry about grief, loss, and questioning one’s identity. Trotter put her writing into ChatGPT and the resulting words contain both her original poems and the AI versions. I thought it would be easy to distinguish between the two since ChatGPT tends to be very wordy and somewhat generic, but I kept second-guessing myself. For the soundscape, the artist read her poems into the software Ableton, which transformed them into a hybrid form —a haunting melody part-human and part machine. The flowers made me think of a memorial or altar with the voice singing a eulogy to lost words. 

Multimedia digital artist and computer programmer Jiatong Yao has two works in the exhibition. The 3D digital sculpture Life Is Full of Screens (2023) is set up like an altar with a large monitor placed on a cloth-covered table with another printed fabric work just above it. On the screen is a digital still life of eight different smaller screens placed chaotically throughout the composition. Upon closer inspection one notices the webcam at the top of the monitor projecting the viewers’ image in each smaller screen. Influenced by gaming systems, VR, and augmented reality, Yao also used AI for this work. She trained her own model to generate images of a motherboard and clay figures that are printed on the fabric. 

Her second work Become Circuit Envelop (2024) is a sculptural, digital self-portrait. In her artist statement, she says she has “an optimistic hope for the virtual world, believing that with decentralized online spaces and advanced AI computing technology, a better space could emerge—one free of class distinctions, harm, and violence.” I admire that type of optimism, but I interpret these works quite differently. In both pieces, I see the results of screen fatigue and burnout. In the self-portrait work, the “brain” has become a circuit board with the wires representing the mind as unbalanced and chaotic. 

Interested in internet subcultures, artist and cyberfeminist Yoona Bang’s work o-p-h-e-l-i-a-you.live (2023) is a net artwork exploring girl internet culture, specifically coquette core through the lens of Ophelia from Shakespeare’s Hamlet. The work is a documentation video of the internet piece, so it was not set up as interactive. I enjoyed the playful digital collaged aspects of the work, as well as a deep dive into a culture that I knew nothing about. The artist explained that coquette core celebrates frilliness, femininity, and all things Lana Del Ray. The visuals appear to celebrate the coquette visual aesthetic. However, juxtaposing Shakespeare’s narrative with internet girl culture presents a biting critique. After all, Ophelia dies young, suffering from grief and madness. 

Bang has two additional small-scale ceramic works: men who work; men who remember playing in pastures and It all starts with an ode (2024) that are easily overlooked amongst the other works. These small gems are worth a close viewing. The artist creates glazed ceramic “houses” or house fronts. In the windows of the houses are miniature videos. Using old iPhones hidden behind the sculptures, the works nostalgically remind me of childhood play and creativity. 

Interactive artist Maryam Ashkaboosi’s cyborg sculptures explore the intersections between science, technology, and humans. A cyborg is defined as a mythical hybrid creature with both human and machine systems. Cyborg 1 (2023) is a video installation using six outmoded monitors. The structure made me think of Nam June Paik’s early work, while the looped animations reminded me of a creature trying to communicate in a symbolic visual language. Cyborg 2 (2023) has more direct references to humans with cast body parts attached to the sculpture. The Frankenstein-esque entity’s disembodied ears, eyes, and fingers reference genetic cloning gone awry. 

While Ashkaboosi’s work embraces the cyborg as the future, Texas artist Tyler Haws’ work looks to the past embracing old technology in his readymade sculptural sound installation. Balance (2023) is a surround-sound interactive experience where visitors can manipulate the sonic environment by playing with a child’s ball atop a moving turntable. There is also a projector mounted at the ceiling, so that the participants’ hands and bodies become part of the projection, allowing multiple perspectives to emerge. The textured scratchiness of the sounds is strangely soothing and repetitive like ocean waves. I was a bit nervous about touching the ball and needle, not wanting to scratch the record before the official opening. I appreciate the playfulness and absurdity of the work. It embodies the spirit of Fluxus. 

One common material thread in all the artists’ work is the use of upcycled materials. From an environmental perspective, I appreciate the fact that outdated technology is a source material for artists to mine and create new works, rather than going to the landfill. Conceptually, it also speaks to the fast-paced evolution of technology and how humans must rapidly adapt or risk having inoperable systems. Zack Nguyen’s thoughtful curation allows for multiple dialogues between the works and as all interesting exhibitions do — it raises more questions than it answers. 

Creature Feature

I love classic horror films, especially ones where the monster is misunderstood. Guillermo del Toro’s The Shape of Water (2017) is my favorite current example of this film type. As the horror genre evolved, it wasn’t always easy to identify the monster. When I read about Rosabel Rosalind’s exhibition Creature Feature, the title piqued my interest. 

Rosalind’s drawing and sculptural installation investigates antisemitism, conspiracy theories, and real-life catastrophes through the lens and language of a film set. The work challenges viewers to question how they make sense of the world despite current modern-day horrors.

I had the opportunity to meet Rosalind during installation and she gave me a tour through the work. The first thing I noticed was the non-traditional placement of the drawings and post-it notes on the walls. The artist transformed the gallery into a large conspiracy wall, where viewers are encouraged to function as the red string, making connections through seemingly disparate subjects. 

As I perused the gallery, I noticed a recurring elliptical shape — a black void with swirling miasma. It reminded me of the sci-fi neo-western TV series Outer Range where Josh Brolin discovers a black hole on his land, which serves as a conduit for time travel. Rosalind’s Black Void is an orb that she explains is the monster named 5G. Unlike most creature feature films, the 5G monster is invisible, emitting dangerous electromagnetic waves. I admit my ignorance in all things 5G so I did a bit of research. Like all good conspiracy theories, there are conflicting reports about the level of risk to human health. 

In the exhibition, there are sections on flat-earthers, car crashes, Jesus’ circumcision, detonation, and the bowels of the earth. The post-it notes provide humor and film set references. Viewers must get close to see the drawings’ details and the overall effect is one of obsessive compulsion. To adhere the drawings to the wall, Rosalind uses small magnets which are red hands with the pointer finger pointing to other people as well as drawings. This design element adds another layer of context to the conspiracy theory syntax. I mistakenly thought the black and white drawings were graphite, but Rosalind explained that she used a clickable ballpoint pen with 4 colors —black, red, green, and blue. The level of detail and mastery over her medium is quite impressive. 

One large drawing features gesturing hands amidst swirls of clouds of smoke. In the lower right corner, Rosalind includes a blue drawing of an open-mouthed female who resembles a sex doll. A small red drawing in the upper right corner depicts baby Jesus’ circumcision. The juxtaposition of these three drawings made me smile. I don’t recall seeing Jesus’ circumcision in my art history books, so I did a deep dive asking Google for some help. I found two references, a 1523 painting by Mannerist artist Parmigiano and a 1490-91 fresco painting by Italian Renaissance artist Luca Signorelli. Digging deeper, I found that this was a serious point of contention dividing Jews and Christians and that artworks depicting Jesus’ circumcision often went missing. 

Another drawing delineates explosions and the accompanying post-it note identifies it as the detonations prop closet. Rosalind skews the perspective, which creates a disorienting effect for the viewer. The idea of the prop closet led me to think about Pandora’s Box and what happens when the box or in this case, the door is opened, and disaster is unleashed? Are the detonations meant to distract or destroy? 

Cut-out wooden explosion-shaped props add a sculptural element to the exhibition, as well as provide additional perspectives for viewing. Upon closer inspection, the wood has been either shot or burned adding textural detail and the additional context of gun violence. The post-it notes refer to the Biblical story of the burning bush and scorched earth. 

Another drawing of an elliptical shape entitled The Bowels of the Earth made me laugh out loud, as it quite literally depicts human bowels. The drawing makes me consider the synergistic and often detrimental relationship between humans and the earth. The phrase usually references that which is unseen and located in the most interior of spaces. Going back to the artist’s 5G monster reference, this brings up the question of how technology affects our physical and emotional health. 

I write this in the wake of the assassination attempt of former President Trump. Within hours, the media floated conspiracy theories about the shooter’s motivation, the possibility of a pre-planned publicity stunt to raise ratings, and other absurdist ideas that pass for news these days. A creature feature unfolds in HD on our large screens in slow motion as a real-life horror unfolds. Who or what is the real monster? Rosabel Rosalind’s work resonates with salient, dark humor as we navigate through our complicated and mediated existence. 

After 22 years, Fort Worth Community Art Center will close its doors due to lack of funding. It provided thousands of visual and performing artists exhibitions and a space to grow their careers. It’s a sad day for the DFW arts community. Both Creature Feature and Being Human will be part of the last cycle of exhibitions before the closing at the end of the year. 

 

Being Human is on view at Arts Fort Worth from August 1 – August 28, 2024

Creature Feature is on view at Arts Fort Worth from July 5 – August 28, 2024