Digitalism: An Art Manifesto

How hard could this be? Over several weeks in 2017 I spent pockets of time assembling photos that reflected my artistic vision for a juried exhibition. With over 20 years of photographs in my archive, I needed to explore what, if anything, connects my photos beyond composition, theme, time or person. What vocabulary could I use to describe my work uniformly? An hour before the submission deadline I realized I was at a total loss of how to summarize my artistic vision in words.

So…I took more photos. A lot more photos. And more importantly I traveled with an artistic partner. We stumbled into exhibits and museums everywhere we went: California, Massachusetts, Brooklyn, and Paris. Along our journey I chose to visit, consciously or unconsciously, works that just spoke to me for some reason or another.

I also took good notes. Patterns started to emerge of what I will call a new Digitalism. “New” mostly because this has nothing to do with the German electronic music duo of the same name. I started to create a taxonomy of the qualities I observed both in my own work, and in the art I enjoyed.

Digitization is the conversion (or sampling) of natural waves into digits for use by computers, and is visually represented by a step curve. In contrast, analog is the recording of natural waves in complete form, and is visually represented by a sine curve. The former looks like a staircase and the latter resembles a much friendlier wave you might want to surf.

Digitalism is a range of visual emphasis from an analog (or natural) to a digital (sampled) recording of our world. And within this spectrum there are five different streams or elements present in Digitalist work: Code, Pixel, Viz, Multiple and Analog.

‘Calculating the Universe’, Troika, 2014. Black & White Dice.

Code shares an inside-out view of digital art. It celebrates the craft of coding by including actual syntactical elements (snippets of of code) or by emphasizing iteration. Examples of the latter range from the kinetic arts of Arthur Ganson, to “Mine the Scrap” Certain Measures (Tobias Nolte et Andrew Witt), 2016 or “Life and Death of an Algorithm” Troika, 2017.

KTTV by Casey Reas, 2015

Pixel reduces the world to an assembly of blocks, using forms from ’80s style video games or Legos as the primary medium of expression for example. The work of Nathan Sawaya is a wonderfully literal example of Lego, and “The Big Wave” by Jean-Michel Othoniel freezes the impossible in a towering collection of bricks. “Glitch art,” such as Ultraconcentrated by Casey Reas, reduces digital images (and TV signals) to a smear of pixels bearing little resemblance to the original. The work of James Turrell is the most minimalist form of Pixel, shaping light into a singular experiential form such as Afrum I.

"Five Decades of US Crime" Shine Pulikathara, 2019.  Tableau Public Gallery.
“Five Decades of US Crime” Shine Pulikathara, 2019. Tableau Public Gallery.

Viz is the intersection of data science and art, and shorthand for the visualization of data. The purpose of Viz is to enlighten by balancing quantitative and qualitative information and the use of volumes and/or variety of data is what separates Viz from other streams of Digitalism. Bar charts, line charts and scatter-plots are Pixel without data.

Untitled. From Industry I. Jesse Weissman 2018

Multiple has evolved from a style attributed to Victor Victori “highlighting the many behind the one, unfolding all possible dimensions of a being in one all-inclusive piece of work.”  In Digitalism, Multiple includes objects and abstraction without an underlying data set (or algorithm) and in this way bears resemblance to Cubism. The lack of an underlying data set is what separates Multiple from Viz.

‘Waterfall’ Jesse Weissman, 2018

Analog remains true to original, natural form while employing digital tools or enhancements. In portraiture, the Selfie is a simple example. The image is captured digitally and typically any changes are intended to enhance the original subject. Filtered images are another example, such as the saturated landscapes that decorate our Windows (or Mac) Desktops. Abstract images are Analog when their visual ingredients remain largely recognizable.

Armed with this taxonomy, I looked back over the photography I had assembled for the exhibition and for the projects on my personal site. Am I a Digitalist? Professionally, I occupy the world of Viz and delight in creating new ways of exploring data in Tableau. And my art draws heavily from the Multiple stream, especially in my exploration of industrial themes. But a large part of my work echos a desire to return to a more analog world, grounded in tangible things, beautiful in its simplicity.

Farmer’s Market in July

Dirty leaves in bunches for sale.

Mismatched buckets of wildflowers, earth under fingernails and open hands inviting one to taste.  People and children alive and shopping free of metal cages and broken wheels, free of screaming and grabbing at boxes of sugar adorned with pictures of fictional beings so many fictional beings line the polytheistic aisle of carbohydrates in that other place.

At the farmer’s market I shop only by texture and color, scent and taste, finding truth in wrinkles and grime.

Mind the Gap

This is about open space, finding pieces and filling holes.  It is about a circle on white paper, brushed in the Zen style by an Asian man in robes kneeling on a pagoda with the sound of water nearby.  This is about the moment when space assumes definition, is or is not, by the addition of a single brush stroke.  Photos have layers of is or is not.  A table is.  The space underneath decidedly is-not but we find comfort in that space beneath tables swinging feet and legs below the knee. The circle is a complete form.

At some point in life we focus below the table, on the is not, on the swing of feet, the arc of legs, tracing circles through time and space.

The Man of Steel

Three weeks into growing a beard, I watched Man of Steel last night while folding laundry and drinking decaffeinated mint tea.  There’s a point in the movie when The Man is speaking to Lois Lane and she asks about the symbol on his chest.  She remarks it looks like an ‘S’ and he responds that “on his planet it’s not an ‘S’..it’s a symbol for hope.”  She persists, and The Man becomes known as Superman.

Superhero’s are in fashion again.  At the gym, which I joined to rebuild my body after years of neglect, men and women wear Superman’s symbol on T-shirts and shorts.  It’s not just for kids anymore.  Now more than ever, we feel the need to tap into something greater.  We need to feel stronger and more resilient.  We hope.

Yesterday I woke at 5:30am without an alarm and drifted into my kitchen for coffee.  I wrote in my new journal for an hour, made a sandwich of egg, ham and cheese before changing into workout clothes.  I delivered my son’s skateboard and phone to their mother’s home by 7:30am.  Most mornings we would get ready for school or camp.  I drove 30 minutes in traffic to my gym and spent an hour pushing muscle and bone through limits.   I spent the day at work.  Took the car in for an oil change.  Spoke to friends and family along the way.  Avoided traffic by stopping for sushi.  Shared worlds and words with Gabrielle over Skype later that evening after folding laundry and drinking tea.

In the early morning making eggs and lunches, in the creation of art, in showing up for work, in taking care of my children and myself,  in helping others, in loving a woman, in making a home, I am a man of steel.  Or so I hope.