Printmaking Today article on contemporary practices in South Africa. Covers performative scanner art, and Nathaniel Stern’s work with Jillian Ross at the David Krut Workshop in Johannesburg, South Africa.
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Art Fag City
“One of the more exciting new features on AFC lands in our masthead, which will now feature a new emerging artist every two weeks. Click on the image and a page with the profiled artist and a full sized reproduction of their work. Kicking us off is the work of Nathaniel Stern, who headed up the residency I attended at iCommons last week in Dubrovnik.”
see screenshot of original feature
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Art Fag City
Art Intercom: featuring artist
Nathaniel Stern
Paddy Johnson of Art Fag City interviews Nathaniel Stern, commissioned by iCommons
Part I
Inspired by pioneering artists in the field of Interactive art such as David Rokeby andMyron Kruger, Nathaniel Stern builds upon their work by reintroducing traditional art- making techniques to reinterpret digital records of movement. In the first half of my interview with the artist we discuss works leading up to, and informing his current body of prints he titles Compressionism. In these images Stern manipulates visual documentation of movement distorting memories or impressions of the body.
Art Fag City: So I wanted to begin by discussing your work, and so I thought we could start with the prints you make. I wonder if you could talk about your process a little bit because you have the Compressionism series that you’ve been working on, and, you use a lot of ‘techy’ things, but the actual process is very traditional. You’re also making very traditional art historical references and I wondered if you could talk a little bit about that and what your interest is in pairing those things?
Nathaniel Stern: Absolutely. I guess obviously with any series I’m pulling inspiration from various places, but I think when that series started my interests led me to two things: the first was I was working with interactive installation and performativity, trying to get people to move in ways they normally wouldn’t, and that was kind of my mantra for a while; rather than trying to think of immersion as a goal, I thought of immersion as a side effect of playing with affect – the involuntary ability to effect, and be effected – and how such art can sort of put the body in quotes. And what I found was that it was a very special kind of person that would actually engage and interact with those pieces; most people would just kind of watch and talk about the work, and it was everyone from, like, my mother, who didn’t understand the technology – and just kind of said how proud she was and sat in the corner – but also the writers and critics who really liked my work would kind of stand back, and nod, and talk about how it’s interactive, and it’s performative, and playful, but they would never actually use it.
AFC: Now specifically at this point we’re talking about the installation“step inside” or are we talking about more than just this..
NS: I would say “step inside”, and the two works that preceded it,“stuttering” and “enter: hektor”. And even though “step inside” is the piece that gets the most talked about. I think “stuttering” actually succeeded in accomplishing getting people to move about in ways they wouldn’t normally.
AFC: And, just to back-track a little bit, can you briefly explain those pieces for the readers?
NS: “stuttering” was a kind of Mondrian painting with 34 differently-shaped squares on it, but they’re invisible. So instead of actually seeing the squares, when you step in front of the screen, you see an abstract outline of yourself, and any time you cross over one of those squares it’s triggered and it recites a line of the text out loud, as well as animates text on the screen. So what winds up happening is that there are too many trigger points and that it almost asks you not to interact; so on the one hand the piece itself stutters, but on the other hand in order to get it to say few enough things for you to hear and understand it, you have to almost ‘stutter’ with your body. “step inside” in many ways came out of what I thought were the shortcomings of “stuttering” — people really only got beyond the surface of “stuttering” when they were alone with the work. But when there were a lot of people in the space, or in the room, they wanted to perform, and it became a kind of interactive one-upmanship, and showing off, and more of the play between how others saw you and what you could do with the piece, instead of the rich attention to minor gestures that came out when no one was looking. Rather than working against this, “step inside” was more about enhancing and playing with that kind of performance of self in relationship to perception of others. It was a literal performance space, where people stepped inside a large box, and a combination of their footsteps and their movements made a live video feed of profiled bodies filled with white noise, which were projected on the screen outside the box. But they were cut off – neither could participants see people’s responses to their interactions, nor could the external viewers see the people inside. So, it invited participants to make images based solely on their immediate actions, and nothing else. I also added a few elements to again give a bit of awkwardness, like instead of being a mirror projection, the camera was picking up your profile, and the opacity of the field was based on the amplitude of your echoed footsteps; you had to really think about how you were going to move, both literally and metaphorically, to manipulate the video feed.
Should I go back to how this got into the prints?
AFC: Yes, absolutely.
NS: So I guess what I found here is that technophobes weren’t interested. The traditionalists had a hard time with it too. But even those who were interested, unless they were a special kind of person, wouldn’t interact with it. Even the theorists who liked the work would often be standing in the corner, talking about how wonderfully performative it was [AFC: right]. But they weren’t using it. The point is, that it wasn’t about what was on the screen; if you don’t engage and interact, you are not experiencing the piece. So I thought, rather than try to find a way to force people into performing – and I should mention that I am also working on other pieces where people inadvertently interact to address this issue – I wanted to make a series optimized for people to imagine a performance, if that makes sense. If people were using these as visual stimulations of performativity, then why not make, specifically, visual elements that help to imagine that performativity. And I still wanted to reference signs and language in it. And that’s the one angle of it I was talking about when you first asked this question – how I got started; The other is that it actually began as a joke. I didn’t know that these prints were going to be – for lack of a better word – so ‘pretty’… It started when I was working on this site-specific exhibition with Marcus Neustetter in Johannesburg – we collaborate together often – and I was kind of drawing in straight lines across the gallery space with my scanner – the performative element – and then re-stretching these compressed images out to the size of the original subject. The Compressionism title is obviously a joke, but people were fascinated by the results and really interested in the process…
AFC: Can I interrupt for a second and ask how many prints you have in the series?
NS: It’s an ongoing series and the first exhibition I think was more of an experiment that led to the rest –about fifteen pieces, now in storage; the second exhibition, Call and Response, has 17 digital prints and 13 handmade prints. Or, I should rather say pieces [instead of prints] because some of the pieces are triptychs and polyptychs. I also just finished another series for an exhibition in Ireland which has an additional 12 digital prints, and I’m working on another series now that will have both handmade and digital prints —the handmades will be done in collaboration with Zhane Warren while I’m on residence at the Frans Masereel Centre in Belgium this Summer. I guess I haven’t explained that after I made the initial digital prints, I decided to take it more seriously, and play with painting light, make references to using found objects and references to Duchamp and the cubists, as well as tributes to abstract expressionism — that’s when I built the ‘scanner appendage’ and started going out and scanning foliage and the like.
AFC: But these works – the second series of prints versus the first series – are they less performative then?
NS: Well I almost don’t want to talk about the first series of prints, but to answer your question, I was too scientific about it in the first series; and so in other words I would go out onto a table that was five meters long and I would scan exactly in a straight line – and so the first series was actually less performative in that regard… I would take a straight line across five meters, and print out the ‘compressed’ image, then stretch it back to five meters – the exact width of the table — and that would be my ‘decompressed’ print, and then I would do an edit (so, three prints from each scan). Whereas with the second series and thereafter, once I discovered people were interested in this, I decided to play more of a role as an artist and perform an image into existence rather than trying to mimic the actual size, which merely showed inconsistencies in my own movement. Now it’s more about dynamism and relationality in the performance. And it’s a lot more fun.
AFC: So with the print “Wind” for example (pictured above), I think that print is a really nice piece in that series; can you talk about the performative aspect of that particular print?
NS: Sure. That was taken at a construction site in Johannesburg, actually, and I was walking around with the scanner and battery pack attached to my body and…
AFC: And that equipment is something you created specifically for this project right? It’s custom tech stuff…
NS: Actually it is and it’s not. That’s the funny thing about it… It sounds so technical but actually the appendage is a piece of wood that’s shaped in order to accommodate me, my laptop and the scanner… it’s basically a sand and a saw used for a shaped fit, outfitted with various bungee cords, Velcro, holes and clips – it’s more of a handy man’s tool belt, you know. It’s less Cory Arcangel and more Bruce Wayne… and the battery pack is just a rechargeable whose standard use is a home alarm system’s backup, with a new lead I think the most technical side of this is that I tested a lot of scanners to see which ones were the best for outdoor lighting. I also use open source drivers so that I can get the same results from different scanners, and spend a lot of time hand-coloring in Photoshop – outdoor scanning tends to blow out most color.
So I was at this construction site and – actually that day probably gave me about four prints, where I did “Earth”, “Wind”, “Fire” and “Joburg Boogie Woogie” all in one day – and I saw some ticker tape; the performance basically consisted of me trying to catch the ticker tape floating around in the wind… if you can imagine me with the heavy weight of a scanner and battery pack over my back, out on the construction site, looking over my shoulder making sure no one is going to mug me.
AFC: So I guess in a certain way you are forcing your own body to move in ways it wouldn’t normally…
NS: Exactly. I so appreciate your saying that. This is precisely what I said to my supervisor (I’m doing my PHD right now) about wanting to do a chapter on Compressionism. And it’s my hope that people will not only see them as beautiful art objects in their own right, but also try to imagine them being made, and want to hear the stories of them being made like you just asked. When we opened the show in Joburg – there’s a drama professor by the name of Jane Taylor, who opened the show – and I was calling them, for a while, “digital performance; analogue archive” … and she said that I got it backwards, that the prints are actually the performances, and the pictures of me scanning them are the archives.
AFC: Oh interesting. Yes.
NS: And I think given where I started with the series, that’s wonderful. With regards to the handmade iterations, that was just another way to invite people in to the images. And I think that’s where the other angle came in – for the non-tech people and the people who give more credit to more traditional means; and I don’t necessarily do that, but I want to again invite them into that performance and enter into the process between the two spaces.
AFC: So your titling process then… Is it basically descriptive? Because“Wind” is basically describing the element you were working with at the time.
NS: That’s a good question. The title of an artwork, and I’m sure you know this as an artist yourself, can come from anywhere, from just being descriptive and humble to someone else making the suggestion. Most of the time it is really describing the subject and hoping that the performance is then implicit. However, sometimes there’s something bigger at hand, or where there’s an inspiration, for example “Joburg Boogie Woogie” was obviously a direct reference to Mondrian and I was trying to do the map of Joburg on some level; and “Nude Descension” was a Duchamp reference, he painted a “Nude Descending the Staircase”, and instead, I descended the nude. I‘m always performing some relation, and sometimes it’s a direct relation between me and the subject, and sometimes it’s broader than that and it has to do with our relation to images or art itself. And I often title in that way, too. I don’t think, it’s not a grandiose thing.
Part II
Art Fag City: So we’ve talked a little bit about the prints. I should note that you also make videos, which are on your site as well, before we move on so readers will know to check that work out. I wondered if you could talk about your connection with Creative Commons.
Nathaniel Stern: Admittedly, it’s by default that I’ve become a bit of an iCommons activist. I was one of the few people who had a blog in South Africa – now there’s many, but I was one of the earliest ones there and certainly the first in the art world – and it was under Creative Commons, so I was contacted by the South African CC team early on. Since then, I’ve become an impromptu spokesperson for them on some level and I’ve tried to direct that dialog not only toward my personal interests but also the interests of professional artists more generally.
I guess I have two main themes with regards to Creative Commons: the first is that I want to ensure that we make work that’s free and available in the public domain for remixing and playing and generating discussion, but that’s not exploitative of artists. And so with this, ideally, I guess I’d like to see Fair Use expanded exponentially and I see various CC licenses as doing exactly that. With issues of distribution I guess I like to differentiate between ‘art’ and the art’s ‘content’ – the former is for collectors and the latter is free: I think it should be available to everyone.
I believe, for example, that you should be allowed to download and play with my video art; I give away files for my prints, they are available on my site – not at super high res, but high res enough that you could print them out or re-mix. I think it’s important that they are out there. That’s the art’s content, not the art itself.
From my perspective, with Walter Benjamin‘s “Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction,” he was right in saying that potentials for easily copying work changed the relationship we have to art objects, but he was wrong in saying that the more copies, the less the authentic original has value: it’s exactly the opposite – the more people that have posters of the Mona Lisa, the more collectors will want the original; the more people that watch my video on their home computers, the more value the signed and numbered DVD will have to the collector.
AFC: Absolutely.
NS: And so I’m trying to find new ways of convincing collectors of that. Because they believe it when it comes to photography, which took a long time, and we need the same understandings for new media. Clive Kellner, the curator who bought “step inside” for the Johannesburg Art Museum, once had a debate about this with me, because he said I couldn’t distribute the software once they purchased it; and I said, “they may have the software, but they don’t own it” – they can watch it, they can play with it, but you have the rights to it, you have the artwork itself, they only have its content. The more people that have this, the more the piece in the museum increases in value. I want to change that discourse. I want to make sure that we can talk about and remix and distribute art to our heart’s content, and still have the ability to see the value of the original (or at least the ‘authenticated’ piece).
AFC: I guess I was just wondering whether you had specific ways of doing that?
NS: Well, you can’t really see the direct impact of someone seeing a poster and therefore immediately going and buying a work, but there are implicit connections; I have this blog, I upload my stuff to Flickr under Creative Commons, I write about other people’s work as well as my own work – indirectly my name and work has gotten out there, and is being talked about. It’s exactly how we met, it’s exactly how I met the people at Creative Commons and iCommons, and it’s where most of my non-South African exhibitions come from. And none of my work has any less value because I have CC lower resolution versions of it online – I think it’s had quite the opposite effect through that indirect relationship of exposure and dialogue.
I think the discussion right now is in the wrong arena – copyright or CC, Fair Use or piracy, this is what big companies should worry about, not artists. Artists should raise questions around whether you do the full high-resolution or lower-resolution under CC, or do you allow people to exhibit the video or do you sell the exhibition rights separately – I think these are the models that are different for each and every one of us, potentially for each and every art work. For example, I have distributed videos before as a podcast; so obviously that’s free. So what I did when someone was interested in purchasing it, I gave them a certificate of authenticity, as well as some prints, and all the videos were pressed, screened and signed.
AFC: And so it’s a package that you get, and it’s an object.
NS: Exactly. There are still people out there that, believe it or not, buy CDs, because they like to have the packages. You know, there are still people that will spend $300 on a really good ballpoint pen.
AFC: People still buy books!
NS: People still buy books, present company included! And, I think we need to recognize that it’s not necessarily at odds to both give away the content and sell the object. Art that is in the public interest can be distributed widely, and the same art can be a luxury item for sale.
AFC: Yes.
NS: I guess my other interest in CC is, going back to my role as an artist rather than as an activist – the particular modes of production. A lot of CC is either about distributing content that is educational, or about re-mixing, which usually defaults to music. And, you know, like MTAA say “we just give our work under CC as a gift;” but I’m also wondering about other uses, other production roles for CC.
Like for example, one of the main projects I’m doing in Croatia is my first in a series of what I call “sentimental constructions,” which are abstract buildings made of rope, that are actually performed. So it might be a huge architectural structure, a literal wireframe, held up in the four corners by volunteers, as a public performance or intervention, somewhere outside a gallery space.
So the question might be, What does this have to do with CC?
AFC: Sure.
NS: And for me, obviously, there are aspects and interrogations about construction, architecture, space, and performance – but what changes the meaning of each performance is the site specificity. In Dubrovnik, it could be about facades or emptiness in relation to the tourism industry that’s been burgeoning there. While, when I try to do it in Joburg this September, it could be about disparity, and decay, and the homeless. So if I put the design of the project under open source and CC, and other artists start to perform sentimental constructions in their parts of the world, people might enter a much different kind of dialog, and it gives a shifting context. So, the important thing for iCommons is that it actually invites others to do something to, and with, the ideas, and it’s less owned by artists and then remixed, and more of a collaboration between several artists at once.
AFC: Right, it’s much more of a conversation.
NS: Yeah. I think the one problems I’m trying to resolve with it, is that a lot of artists, in the age of conceptualism, say, “Well, it’s his idea and that’s the way he did, and I have to find a new way of playing with it” – that makes it a collaboration and a dialog instead of, saying, well, “Shit. I’m doing the same work as Nathaniel.” And that’s where I’m still struggling – I need to make sure it’s seen as a collaboration, rather than as a call for participation. But, as you say, I want to open this dialog and I want to find other modes of production that say, ‘Why CC?’ that go beyond remix and Fair Use. Not that those aren’t important discussions…
AFC: Hah. Those are really interesting questions….
NS: Well I think that’s part of what this residency is about for me, and these are the two questions I want to explore most; even if we don’t have any answer, I’d like to, as you say, dialog about it and see where it can take us. It’s to the credit of the iCommons organization that they’re giving us the space and support to see where these kinds of questions might lead.
Read in context: Part I and Part II
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ArtThrob
Nathaniel Stern at Art on Paper Gallery
by Michael Smith
The trope of compression is one that underpins much in our age. Distinct from reducing or editing, compressing implies not so much a loss of detail as a pulling together of information or matter so that it occupies a smaller space, digital or actual. The central characteristic of the compressed unit of information is not that it is necessarily inferior to the original/experiential, but that the nuances of its detail are hidden, hermetically encoded into a language that reveals the inadequacies of our sensory system. For some time Nathaniel Stern, an interesting and prolific fixture on the SA contemporary art scene, has been employing the process of compression as a productive one through which images are produced. More than a little tongue-in-cheek in reference to the grandeur which history of art confers through its ‘isms’, Stern took to calling his creative process ‘Compressionism’.
The references that radiate from this term are numerous, and are backed up in Stern’s work on ‘Call and Response’. As the visual qualities of the works shift them towards a somewhat violent abstraction, the inevitable association is with Abstract Expressionism, more specifically the gesturality of Jackson Pollock’s and Franz Kline’s action painting. Yet Stern’s choice of subject matter for this show also recalls the near-abstraction of the great Impressionist Claude Monet’s latter day output. As is well-documented, Monet’s seemingly tireless obsession with water lilies and the surfaces they floated on occupied much of the last third of his career. Certain connections can be seen with these images and works of Stern’s like Satin Bed 2006 and Emmarentia Lilies 2006.
Yet with the Abstract Expressionists and the Impressionists before them, the physical matter of paint was the real stuff of their focus. Surface was of primary importance for both. This is where Stern and his forebears part ways. To call Stern’s images ‘painterly’ on the strength of their swathes of colour and digitally rendered striations that recall brushstrokes is to tell only half the story. The tantalising quality of the surfaces of his works comes from the sense that they contain much that they’re not readily revealing. Here and there one glimpses recognisable passages of images: leaves, sections of flowers, combinations of colour that hint at their real-world origins, but for the most part the digital processing, the deliberate compressing and stretching of the images, rather than any matter, becomes the subject of his formal exploration. The process of encoding visual information into digital information takes the place of painterly push-and-pull.
And the process of gathering visual data, one often facilitated by the use of a homemade digital scanning device with which Stern spent many hours scanning foliage in Emmarentia Dam, speaks subtly of Stern’s continual interest in performance, most obviously manifested in his 2004 work Step Inside. The ‘call and response’ loop suggested by the exhibition title becomes an interplay, as Clive Kellner states in the exhibition catalogue, ‘between media, between performance and print’. The process of scanning the dam foliage is distinct from one of documentation: it is avowedly performative. And the images that result, while obliquely documenting the images chosen by Stern and his passages through the water, operate on a level far more speculative that documentary.
Stern’s entire process expands to encompass fairly traditional printmaking techniques, and a great tension is established by this. With some works on the show Stern establishes a trans-technological connection between digital image-making and the venerable technique of etching. Working with master printer Jillian Ross of David Krut Print Workshop (DKW), Stern spent many hours extrapolating powerful passages of line, shape and colour from his digital scans, and translating them into etching marks. The results are compelling, an amalgamation of visual languages from two very different ends of Western Art history. As bookends of printing technology, etching and digital image production have a distant connection. Yet, these works seem to bend time back on itself, compressing it through the juxtaposition of the two modes. What is especially effective is the curation of the show in the large expanse of Art on Paper Gallery, which allows for etching images to be shown alongside the resolved digital works from which they derive. While Nude Descension (again a playful gesture to history of art) has a fluid, otherworldly quality, the print which accompanies it, Nude Descension II, accrues a salacious, lo-fi quality that adds another dimension to Stern’s formal repertoire.
It is not only Impressionism and Abstract Expressionism that are deliberately referenced by the works on the show. Jo’burg Boogie Woogie, an image that looks like a cross-section of a grim face-brick wall, is a play on high Modernist Mondrian’sBroadway Boogie Woogie. But the optimism in modernity that manifested in Mondrian’s confection here morphs into a snippet of urban realism, entirely consistent with Guy Tillim’s recent photgraphs of inner-city Johannesburg buildings: the intensity of visual information crammed into the format surely hints at the overcrowding of downtown Jozi living spaces. The image is forbidding in the truest sense of the word, denying spatial access by enforcing the impenetrability of the picture plane. Yet Stern’s technique allows for moments of slippage, vertical slashes across the format that give visual and conceptual relief from the rigidity of bricks and mortar.
The work that remained with me long after I had left the gallery space, however, wasEpics and Anthologies. Probably the most tongue-in-cheek work on show, and the most direct explication of ideas around compression and the opacity that attends it, this lambda print appears to be derived from scans of Stern’s bookshelf. It is the title that lends the work its humour: epics are distinct from most other works of fiction by virtue of their length. Similarly, while anthologies are often collected examples from numerous poets, they function like archives filled with information, often fairly exhaustive attempts to represent an area of poetry. Yet in Stern’s image, their spines stretched and compressed to the point of illegibility, the books become like blocks in a warped Tetris game, the layers of creative history piling up so quickly and disjointedly that one is powerless to effectively decode their meanings and implications.
The work proves, if any proof were needed, that Stern’s performative interests expand to include ‘performing’ a relationship to history, a quietly anarchic deconstruction of the creative person’s position in relation to history. This work, and much of the rest on show, reveal that Stern’s is a position of productive paradox, of signalling his debt to the historical archive of creativity yet resisting the impulse to politely replicate its terms.
Opens: January 27
Closes: February 24
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Die Beeld

Indrukke van Werklikheid
original article
Translation:
Impressions of Reality
by Johan Myburg
The biggest mistake that a writer can make is to pretend that language is a transparent medium with which the reader can deduce a ‘truth’ or ‘reality’.
If you use this remark from Roland Barthes to explain the role of the artist, and read ‘language’ as visual communication, Nathaniel Stern would be no guilty party. It is particularly the ephemerality of ‘truth’ and the many and changing facets of reality that fascinates, and which Stern effortlessly propagates.
The choice of title of his latest exhibition in Art on Paper in Johannesburg, prepares you already – before you have seen the works – on what Stern called ‘performative utterances’.
Call and Response: Performative Prints and Iterations is thus not a new viewpoint, but rather a continuation, an amended repetition, even more invitations to viewers to add to the conversation. Invitations that he also extended previously in exhibitions like Step Inside in Johannesburg.
The way with which one looks repeatedly at things is something of great importance to Stern.
‘Would it be flippant to say that the birth of our first child changed my ways of “looking” significantly?’ asks Stern in a questioning manner proudly. ‘I have always tried to see everything around me in a provocative manner, but the fresh look through a child’s eyes have alerted me even more of the need for playfulness in seeing’.
Stern has been called the ‘father of Compressionism’, a new art movement in New Media art. He uses ‘simple, digital technology to explore different ways of looking.’. Equipped with his portable scanner coupled with a laptop, Stern explores objects like a trimmed Ficus (Four Trees), a bookcase (Epics and Anthologies), agapanthi in his garden (Agapan-thus), the body of a nude that descends a staircase a la Duchamp (Nude Descension).
The digital image gets extended again later to original format, and he adds colour because that suffers sometimes in the scanning process.
The artwork that the viewer sees eventually, is thus not a plain representation, but rather a map of the way that the artist’s eyes followed, the footsteps of the scanner, the impression that the object left (or rather, what the object impressed at the moment of recording).
The playfulness that Stern deals with a tree (Four Trees) in the process of creating, also impresses as tree-form (in the artwork as edition) – the bottom work the trunk, and the top three, the branches of the tree.
In the term Compressionism, one mostly recognises Impressionism. And you see Stern with his scanner in between the water lilies in the Emmarentia lake, his Emmarentia Lilies triptych, and just as with Claude Monet’s way of seeing, it becomes part of your own realisation.
‘Monet and his Impressionism friends started everything’ remarks Stern with authority. ‘Monet and Duchamp are my two biggest leading figures. Monet, who set the importance of impression before that of representation, and Duchamp, the archetypical conceptual artist.’
The enthusiasm with which Stern talks, convinces one when he says: I see myself as a conceptual being. I was brought up in a house with two parents who are interested in the written word. I think in terms of symbols and signs. Or rather, it is the onset of my work’.
‘Previously, I have regarded the body as text and concept. But I am getting more and more conscious of the tactile, of ‘flesh as performed’ rather than ‘preformed’.
The world of New Media is one into which Stern has immersed himself.
He has contributed to practically all of the facets of this developing industry. In New York – where he was born and bred – he participated in a group show with his work hektor.net and enter.hektor – video poetry and an interactive installation.
He obtained his Masters Degree in the Interactive Telecommunications Program at New York University.
Shortly after 2001, Stern established himself in South Africa and is married to Nicole Ridgway, an academic, who was at that stage, at the University of the Witwatersrand’s School of the Arts. Collaborating with the choreographer PJ Sabbagha, Stern worked on animation productions for stage – The Double Room has been awarded three Vita awards, following on what was also seen in 2005 on the Grahamstown Festival.
Currently, Stern is busy with his Doctoral studies at the Trinity College in Dublin – with his thesis titled The Implicit Body.
On the Call and Response exhibition, Stern shows lambda prints as well as graphic prints – etchings, gravures with chine colle, aquatints, and polyester plate lithographies.
‘To make graphic prints is very exciting – it was wonderful to work with Jillian Ross of the David Krut Print Workshop.
‘To try something new is always exhilarating. There is still so much that I want to do’. A remark that sticks with you when you look at the busy website nathanielstern.com with his many blog entries.
‘I constantly realise that I am interested in questions even more than answers’.
And when one looks at Stern’s work, one realises that postmodernism is more than what is sometimes attuned to it: impressions of reality, and the truth alongside it, is ephemeral, place-specific, and ever tentative.
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Call and Response
Exhibition Catalogue
Essays:
nathaniel stern: the compressionist, by Clive Kellner, Director, Johannesburg Art Gallery
narrating the database: the performative and iterative prints of nathaniel stern, by Wilhelm van Rensburg, Art Educator, University of Johannesburg
Editor: Nicole Ridgway
Design: Ellen Papciak-Rose
Publisher: Nathaniel Stern and Art on Paper Gallery
Date of Publication: 2007
Language: English
ISBN: 978-0-620-37812-3
Download as PDF (1.4mb)
Available from Gallery AOP, Johannesburg
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Art South Africa
Nathaniel Stern at Outlet, Tshwane
Nathaniel Stern at Outlet, Tshwane (plain text):
The first work I ever encountered by Nathaniel Stern was titled Stuttering. Made in 2003, the interactive installation relied on the viewer’s body movements – a form of performance – to activate and create visual and aural poetry. The title, it seemed, derived from the repetition of text and sound stimulated by the path of the moving body. In addition to being visually beautiful, the work also fashioned an aural loveliness that belied its restricted repertoire of phrases. here, the manifestation of a speech impediment became a thing of charm.
The computer programme written for this work introduced a second element. By delaying the release of each image, Stern was able to layer one phrase (and sound) upon another, each disappearing only a while after being formed. So, in addition to the uniqueness of each moment, each subsequent moment was rendered exceptional in its layering upon what came before. In this way, Stern introduced both visual currency and history into the work. A third element – and for me the most interest from an art historical perspective – is the fact that Stern employs an electronic medium in the creation of an analogous physical visual effect.
Three years later, a prolific period of experimentation and refinement in between, Stern again uses these three concepts in the collection of work that makes up Time and Seeing. To create the images, Stern used his scanner as a tool to document his adventures outdoors. Wading through ponds, encountering water lilies, investigating Johannesburg architecture, Stern captures his sequences of movements via the electronic scanning face. Later, the raw files were manipulated on computer – stretch and compressed, colored with saturated reds, greens and golds – then played out as lambda photographs printed on metallic paper.
The result is a series of zones that make up each image, bands that discern between adjacent times and successive views. At first the works seem abstract, but in moving closer the viewer is able to discern, in each band, elements of Stern’s subject matter – ripples of water, flower petals, bricks, plastic bags, the sky – each rendered in a sequence that is both cubist and impressionist. And within each, and within the series of bands that make up each image, is an incredible and almost overwhelming sense of beauty; that almost religious feeling you get when you view an awesome artwork – Mark Rothko is a common example.
But, unlike Rothko, Stern uses an electronic form of information to offset a visceral reaction (a contemporary example may be Bill Viola), where a digital medium has an analogous organic reaction. These works remove from the electronic and the digital the aura of coldness and replace it with visceral warmth. In this way the works on exhibition contribute to using the electronic as a tool, in the same way that skin does, in the language of seduction.
– Brenton Maart
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Absa L’Atelier
Exhibition Catalogue
Title: Absa L’Atelier
Editor: Helen Weldrick
Publisher: Absa
Date of Publication: 2006
Language: English
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NY Arts Magazine
between Text and Flesh
This article featured in both the web and print editions.
Staged via various media, Nathaniel Stern’s work enacts the interstices of body, language and technology. It seeks to force us to look again at the relationships between the three, and invites us to experiment with their relation. His body of work can, perhaps, be described as an exploration of the interstitial itself–revisiting between technology and text the dangerous spaces of enfleshment, incipience, and process.
Stern’s revisitations plunge us into a confrontational world of performance where Stern, as actor, provocateur and artist, invites us to enter into the performance and engage in the seriousness of play. The work encourages the viewer to interrogate their perceptions of the everyday and the relations they have with themselves, to others and the world around them.
Stern claims his interest in the body comes from his early study, and subsequent hatred, of fashion design. That, combined with his musical and slam poetry background, leads Stern towards considering the body as text and as concept, but eventually (and he would say, inevitably) steered him to the inverse: the body as performed and emergent. One of the most fascinating aspects of this work is that it does not presuppose the categories of body and language that it works with.
During his two years at the famed Interactive Telecommunications Program (NYU), Stern began using “digital and traditional media to create encounters between an ambiguous ‘I’ and a potential ‘you.’” Enacting what he calls the “non-aggressive narrative” (NAN)–a mode of Benjaminian storytelling–pieces from this body of work perform a complex dance of call and response, in which the viewer/participant is asked to reinvent, from the ruins of memory and selfhood, unfolding pasts and personas. Stern sets out to create meeting places that break down the boundaries between art and audience; to craft spaces of infolding and potential, in which both the “body/self,” and the work, materialize as a locus of exchange.
Stern’s first piece from the NAN, hektor.net (2000), presents a series of video vignettes starring Stern as the aggressively lucid, hektor. Through the visual and sonic aesthetics of slam poetry and manipulated photography, and fraught with odd allusions to, and between, Homer’s books, sex crazes and racial politics, hektor.net is still surprisingly edgy. It induces, despite the fact it is on screen, a visceral clenching on the surfer of the site.
Each subsequent NAN piece explores the same (untold) referent story, through different media and highly contrasted characters. “By embracing the questionable, fragmented memory of a singular past through multiple characters, the ambiguous ‘I’ of the NAN implies an origin story that may or may not have occurred. As the potential ‘You’ is invited to co-invent this unfolding ‘past,’ its openness suggests possibility and multiplicity.”
the odys series (2001-2004), for example, introduced the nervous and inquisitive, odys, also played by Stern. The six video shorts that make up the series explore distortions of body and memory through mis/uses of language. odys’ slow and achy stammering invokes an internal tension, and begs for a personal investment in his character. Stern released odys for your ipod @ odys.org–allowing visitors to download the series onto their own gadgets–just two days after the new video iPod was released by Apple (October 2005).
In the same year that hektor.net was launched, Stern produced his first interactive work–the medium he is now most well-known for–enter: hektor. Here the audience is confronted with what is an almost literal portal–a threshold space through which they meet and step into the character. Participants enter through black and red velvet curtains, into a long, expanding corridor with a projection screen at the end; they see an abstracted, real-time representation of themselves on screen, surrounded by animated text. Each moving phrase acts as a trigger point, so that when an actor’s represented body touches a word, hidden speakers amplify a relevant, uttered phrase. Stern compels his viewers to chase after or run away from the projected text, in order to elicit meaning from hektor’s spoken words. His main objective was to force viewers to enact (embody) “the same exaggerated gestures and jerky expressions that [hektor] does,” to experience their bodies (and their bodies in relation to language) in new ways.
Stern’s interactive pieces work to implicate participants in his narratives, weaving them into events shot through with thoughtful intention and distracted passivity. stuttering (2003), is an odys “story” about the labor that is communication–the materiality and toil of speaking and listening. He saturates the space with 34 trigger points of spoken word and graphic text, mapped on a static, Mondrian painting-like screen, and set off by body-tracking software. “Only by lessening their participation,” says Stern,” will the information explosion slow into an understandable text for the viewer. The piece asks them not to interact.” The tangle of text, voice and motion, makes our first encounter with stuttering feel almost perilous. We are dragged into the frenzied tension between body and text that the stutterer endures, but are then invited to slow down and stop doing. Seducing us into delicate gestures, and almost Butoh-like awareness, the piece allows us to perform quietude, but not acquiescence.
In step inside (2004), participants make visual and aural images appear through the shapes they create with their bodies and echoed footsteps within the performance space, each affecting the other. Entering into a box that is closed off from the outside of the gallery, the participant is confronted with a double-sided screen and a wired floor. Cocooned within the box and the reverberating sound their movements produce, the performer sees only their profile. By cutting a performer off from his or her mirror image, as well as the external reactions of the audience, the work tempts us to leave behind reflection and self-consciousness and, rather, occupy a place of play and intimacy. One participant at a recent showing likened the experience to painting with her entire body.
stuttering won a merit prize (2003), and step inside a major prize (2004), in one of South Africa’s most coveted art competitions–the Brett Kebble Art Awards. Stern has had six solo and duo shows since then, including, “The Storytellers (works from the non-aggressive narrative),” at the Johannesburg Art Museum. After this exhibition, Stern’s work began to branch out of the NAN. His serial faces collage work, for example, was recently featured in Leonardo (MIT Press), and getawayexperiment.net garnered the prestigious Turbulence net.art commission (2005). Over the years, Stern has worked on a number of collaborative multimedia performances which have won several awards, and his ongoing work in video poetry has been screened all over the world.
Perhaps the most traditional of Stern’s work is what has garnered international attention as of late; Compressionism is, for him, “a method of interrogation, an exploration of media and perception; it is a digital performance, and an analog archive.” Stern, simply, traverses bodies, spaces and objects with his scanner face, along varying 3-dimensional paths. With the scanner head in motion, Stern and his prosthetic machine literally compress water lilies, construction sites and local galleries into digital images the size of a small sheet of paper. He then stretches, crop and colors the files, creating static portraits that capture, fossil-like, the dynamism and refractions of his original performance. Through this transfigurative process, sand grains become geological events and trees mutate into atmospheric maps. Compressionism is a transformation of form, texture and color, in which flesh returns caught in verdant slumber, while windows become fiery mosaics. Here, the mundane is given back to us in ways that induce an almost child-like sense of wonder. These beautiful prints feel quite unique in capturing a visual richness and haptic sense of touch rare in the realm of the digital. Stern is currently working with Johannesburg printmakers Jill Ross and Richard Kilpert on an iterative series that takes the images even further through the analogical, utilizing traditional techniques such as lithography, engraving, spit bites, aquatints and more–all in keeping with his manifesto-like rules, available on Compressionism.net. Their collaborative efforts will see an exhibition at Johannesburg’s Art on Paper gallery, February, 2007.
All of Nathaniel Stern’s work exudes this kind of incipience and playfulness. It performs, and asks us to perform, different ways of seeing and being. He invites us to explore, to navigate, and to re-imagine, the spaces between.
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Pretoria News
From Impressionism to Compressionism:
Nathaniel Stern has invented a new way of seeing and showing…
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Die Beeld
Stern manipuleer oog om alledaagse nuut te sien
original article
Translation:
Stern manipulates the eye to see the everday anew
by Franci Cronje
One of the strongest critiques of digital art (often rightfully so), is that appropriation and unoriginality are always at its core. Many hijack the conceptual frames of popular culture and media, or historical works, without adding much value. Seldom do we find fresh processes or ideas that ask us to engage in real discourse.
Nathaniel Stern’s Outlet exhibition, ‘time and seeing’, is exempt from such criticism. He is the father of an exciting new art movement called ‘Compressionism’. In Stern’s own words, he ‘uses simple, digital technologies, in combination with performance and exhibition, to explore different ways of looking’. Compressionism sees a performance-based scanning of large objects, followed by the digital ‘stretching’ of resultant images to original proportions. To accent certain elements, Stern manipulates colour and contrast. The final product is a combination of the recognizable and unrecognizable, in beautifully flowing images and forms.
By way of a quite old-ish scanner (Stern says newer ones are too light sensitive for exterior use) connected to his apple computer, he scans wildlife and landscapes bit by bit. He straps a handmade scanner-cum-computer-appendage to his neck and braves the Emmarentia dam looking for water lilies. He glides over a nude, or executes intricate movements in front of a bookcase. The end result is really new and fresh. Although his pieces refer to Duchamp’s ‘Nude descending a staircase’, Monet’s ‘Water lilies’, and the performative elements of Jackson Pollock’s dripping paint technique, it is light years ahead of postmodernism’s “references and re-referenced” in existing imagery.
Stern’s conceptual inspiration comes from Jackson Pollock, the American pioneer of Abstract Expressionism. Jack the Dripper (so called after he introduced the world to ‘action painting’) perfected his dripping technique as he moved away from conventional easels and paintbrushes. Stern’s scanner, playfully called Action Jackson, fulfils a similar function to Pollock’s sticks, knives and trowels – moving away from the camera and LCD screen.
Stern, like Pollock, also works with a mixture of the controllable and the uncontrollable. Initially, he followed forms and figures strictly from one end to the other; more recently, he has changed his technique substantially. He will hover over a certain part, for example, in order for an Agapanthus’ petals to be discernable, but the rest of the image flows into abstract shapes and hues.
For Stern, an important part of performance art is its ephemerality and fragility. The landscape’s impermanence is further accented through his use of shifting pixels – concept and image are transfigured into an almost transcendent artwork with its own life. His images accent the transience of nature, and of science.
Viewers have had astoundingly different reactions to the eleven prints on show. Some of them see only the seductively beautiful images. Others immediately recognize their art historical references. The artist himself re-members his process-as-performance: where he hovered over a part of the object, while scanning faster over another. For me, it is intriguing that the brain constantly tries to form some kind of closing. My eye follows the lily leaf in the one corner, and tries to make conceptual sense of its other fragmented parts. At some point, my right brain takes over and I revel in the form, colour and perfect balance between these strange prints.
And this is where Stern really succeeds as an artist: he invites us to look with new eyes at the world around us.
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MacFormat Magazine
Nathaniel Stern: full back page feature in Mac Format Magazine
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ArtThrob
Nathaniel Stern
by Ralph Borland (February, 2006)
Nathaniel Stern is an artist, a teacher, a technologist, a blogger, a social catalyst and constant networker in the art community. As an artist, his works spans performance, poetry, interactive installation and video, net.art and print. Originally from Staten Island, New York (otherwise known as ‘Shaolin’ to those ‘other’ Staten-Islanders the Wu Tang Clan) Nathaniel has been a South African for some time now, after falling in love with (and marrying) South African drama academic Nicole Ridgway and moving to Johannesburg in the early 2000s. Nathaniel’s artwork often touches on the mutability of personal identity, as in his assumption of multiple personas through his video performance work. His ideas around the body, a centre in much of his art and his focus in recent academic work around The Implicit Body, speak of the body and person ‘enfolding’ the world around them into themselves, and so constantly transforming.
His ‘real life’ contains many such echoes, or expressions of, the ideas in his artwork. There is little hierarchy to the number of social and professional roles he plays, as there is an undermining of hierarchy and linearity in the forms of narrative he investigates in his work, especially through his formulation of the Non Aggressive Narrative, or NAN. For his latest art project, Compressionism, Nathaniel rigged up a portable scanning unit which he uses to capture and digitise grass, leaves, objects – the physical environment – which he manipulates on the computer and makes physical again through high-quality prints. Nathaniel the person shifts as fluidly between the physical and the digital worlds as his artwork does; many people must know Nathaniel only through his online presence on his blog, “one of the most popular sites in the South African art world” according to Carine Zaayman.
A lot of my earlier work treated the body as text and as concept, and I think some interesting provocations came out of that space, but it has inevitably led me now to the inverse: flesh as performed and emergent. Perhaps we are not ‘in the between,’ as mediated and mediating preformed entities, but rather, ‘of the relation’ – continuously transfigured through/with inter-action. I’m interested in the aches and beauty that come out when we aren�t looking, when we experience bodiliness in different ways, when vision is something we gesture towards, rather than own.
…
Although I’d never deny my own fascination with gadgetry, appendages and other prostheses, I see them only as any other catalyst – tools to help us question, engage, play, perform – and the complex inter-course that hopefully manifests is always already beginning.
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What is at stake is the body and art as cooperative sites of potential resistance, counterinvestments in the automation of meaning, begging us to ‘look again’.
MODUS OPERANDI
Despite his prolific arts production, blogging, writing and collaborative projects, Nathaniel says he must constantly give himself deadlines – both real and artificial – in order to actually “finish” anything in his “gadget- and paper-infested anarchy”. He rapaciously grazes websites, books, magazines, bounces ideas off anyone who will listen – nine out of ten of which never go anywhere. He spends a great deal of time experimenting with his media, and seeing what will happen, but even more time critically engaging with what it does and what is at stake. Dedicated to inter-disciplinarity and collaboration, he has worked across choreography and theatre, poetry and academic writing, photography, video and installation. Things like programming and video editing sometimes dictate purpose and structure to his otherwise chaotic process, and so the final works often exude a very serious playfulness. Of his community-building work, through workshops and teaching, and more informally his hobby of usefully connecting people to one another, he describes himself self-deprecatingly as “a bit of a grazer” – other people’s ideas excite him and fuel his work.
WHAT OTHERS HAVE SAID
“Staged via various media, Nathaniel Stern’s work enacts the interstices of body, language and technology. It seeks to force us to look again at the relationships between the three, and invites us to experiment with their relation. His body of work can, perhaps, be described as an exploration of the interstitial itself – revisiting between technology and text the dangerous spaces of enfleshment, incipience, and process.”
– Nicole Ridgway’s bio / feature on Stern for NY Arts Magazine, March/ April 2006
“More remarkable work from Nathaniel Stern as he reworks, in the most curious of ways, Woody Allen�s Annie Hall. Interesting that although the working method here seems almost diametrically opposed to the hands on, performative approach found in ‘the odys series’ ([Stern’s feature on] dvblog 01/05/06) here too is that same sense of the fragility & vulnerability of human beings and their bodies & psyches & of the unreliability of the language we use to try & make what we want to happen & to relate or lie about what did.”
– Michael Szpakowski on “at interval” and “the odys series,” video artworks in DVblog, January 2006: http://dvblog.org/?p=933
“Nathaniel Stern, new media artist, and tireless blogger of the media art scene in Johannesburg, has created a hauntingly poetic digital backdrop – a combination of sombre, abstract textures and live video feed which enacts a disjointed dialogue with the dancers. Reminiscent in its brooding shadowy forms of Kentridge’s parade of coal black despair, Stern�s work is a new media expression of South Africa�s new sorrow.”
– Lizzie Muller in “The Future Makers” on a work with PJ Sabbagha, RealTime Magazine #70 (Australia), January 2006
“Their second experiment… makes quite a marked impression, in the way that it utilizes simple technological processes to ask viewers to look anew at art and the artwork at hand… Different from the norm of this type of art – the changing and moving image – Neustetter and Stern capture time itself, and not the movement as such.”
– Wilhelm van Rensburg (translated from Afrikaans), on Nathaniel Stern and Marcus Neustetter’s “experiment02” in Die Beeld, “Exsperiment wat kyker se kyk na kuns belig,” May 2005
“Akin to John Cage’s reading of James Joyce’s Wake, the results are unique and aesthetically sound. The narrative cores of the works are not easily detectable, giving the audience licence to navigate. Benjamin writes of the danger of interpretation, commenting that the �chaste compactness of a story which precludes psychological analysis� is powerful enough to arouse �astonishment and thoughtfulness�, forever. Further, he comments on the ability of a story to make the reader lose him/herself. This is one of Stern�s central promises.”
– Robyn Sassen on “the storytellers,” a solo exhibition at the Johannesburg Art Museum: Art South Africa, February 2005.
“Stern and Neustetter’s project is not one for computer geeks or the art world only, but has a broad reach across the production of the urban signwriters, the critical voices against the monopolisation of technology and information as well as the spectrum of people tired of the limited input they have on the web.”
– Carine Zaayman on Nathaniel Stern and Marcus Neustetter’s “getawayexperiment.net,” in “Remixed/Re-signed: The GetAway Experiment.” February 2005: http://www.artthrob.co.za/05feb/project.html
Nathaniel’s current art project is part of an investigation called Compressionism. Nathaniel rigged up a harness for a flatbed scanner and laptop combo – named ‘Action Jackson’ – allowing him to scan any surface, anywhere:
“I literally glide, hover, run and swoop over trees, windows or bodies while the scanner head is in motion, and the results are these amazingly rich and textured, paper-size images. I then re-stretch, hand-color and crop the files, in order to accent the dynamism and refractions of my performance, before going to print; I call it my ‘digital performance and analog archive.'”
With an overt wink to art-historical ‘ism’s, compressionism.net promises a manifesto to come, and spells out a totalising approach to making Compressionist work. Beyond the humour, Compressionism does have real formal links to historical art movements – it is Impressionist in it’s concern with and reliance on light and colour as primary tools of representation; Cubist in its ability to map all surfaces of objects rather than choosing a single viewpoint; and is an act of sampling from the world, as in the art practice of figures like Marcel Duchamp. Titles such as ‘Nude Ascension’, or ‘Emmarentia Lilies’ (a triptych) reinforce the connections to the work of Duchamp and Monet that Nathaniel wishes to establish.
Nathaniel made these formal choices – allusion to art history, the production of a traditional medium – in part to invite more traditional art-viewers into the digital space. He is excited to be working with tangible media whose production was digital and interactive, but that excites non-techies, too – though he notes that the project has in fact been very well received by the digital art community. The work is destined for a solo show at Outlet Gallery in May/ June. MacFormat magazine is doing a back-page spread on the series in an upcoming issue, and a feature in NY Arts magazine comes out next week.
BEFORE THAT
Both ‘step inside’ (2004) and ‘stuttering’ (2003), interactive installation works, were exhibited at, and won prizes at the Brett Kebble Art Awards; ‘stuttering’ a merit prize in 2003, and ‘step inside’ a major prize in 2004. Nathaniel seemed at least partly responsible for opening space within that national art event for interactive or New Media work generally. His proposal for this year’s Kebble Art Awards, a collaboration with Nicole Ridgway, was an even more ambitious work in a similar format.
“The Storytellers (works from the non-aggressive narrative),” was shown at the Johannesburg Art Museum, and featured the ‘odys’ video series, prints and ‘step inside’. After this exhibition, Stern’s work began to branch out of the Non Aggressive Narrative. His serial faces collage work, were featured shortly after in Leonardo (MIT Press), and getawayexperiment.net (with Marcus N) garnered a Turbulence net.art commission (2005). Nathaniel exhibited prints and interactive work at the Klein Karoo National Arts Festival. He was included a large panel discussion on the state of new media art, with the likes of Thando Mama, Sean O’Toole, Clive Kelener, Churchill Madikida, Marcus Neustetter and Christo Doherty.
This period also saw the start of the fruitful and ongoing collaboration of Nathaniel Stern and Christo Doherty, head of Wits University’s Digital Arts MA program. Aside from co-designing the successful Interactive Media Arts program in WSOA digital arts, now in its fourth year, the Stern/ Doherty team initiated atjoburg.net (http://atjoburg.net), an online forum for creators working in electronic media, curated two well-received digital art exhibitions, held half a dozen workshops on physical computing and interactive video and have thrown several VJ parties around town. Doherty was co-director for the Unyazi Electronic Music Festival, while Stern is known as the tireless net-writer on local work – on his blog, rhizome.org, SAartsEmering and networked_performance. Since its inception, the department has boasted its “Digital Soiree,” regular Friday get-togethers that have featured the likes of Hans Ubermogren, Konrad Weltz, Ralph Borland and Aryan Kaganof, and their collaborative efforts brought the first Digital Artist in Residence at Wits, Joshua Goldberg – who performed and lectured throughout Johannesburg and Cape Town.
Nathaniel Stern started his blog in February 2003 and hasn’t looked back since.
AND BEFORE THAT
Nathaniel was moving between New York and South Africa; in South Africa he worked intensively with SA choreographer PJ Sabbagha, writing and performing poetry and animation for stage. “The double room” won 3 Vita Awards. He went on to work on three more pieces with Sabbagha, all of them going to Grahamstown Festival. He worked on Hektor.net, a video poetry site and [odys]elicit, the first interacive installation he built in SA. The former won an International Digital Art award, and traveled around the world with the RRF festival, while the latter went to the MCA in Sydney for the D’Arts02 Festival and to the Chaingmai New Media Festival, Thailand. It was a finalist in the Permian Media Art Festival.
In America, he was awarded an artist residency at Cornell University, where he was a New Media Room featured artist in the Johnsom Museum. Nathaniel and Nicole were married, and he graduated from the Interactive Telecommunication Program (ITP) at New York University and started up nathanielstern.com
AND EVEN BEFORE THAT
At the ITP, Nathaniel made work for his first group exhibition in upstate New York: hektor.net and enter:hektor – video poetry and an interactive installation. He also made it into the “team ithaca” slam poetry team and competed at the Nationals in Minneapolis.
Nathaniel studied fashion and music for his undergraduate degree, and was the saxaphone player and one of two singers in a ska/reggae/jazz band called ‘The dominant Seven’. Their whole album used to be available on mp3.com, says Nathaniel, but alas no more…
NEXT UP
Nathaniel will be exhibiting works from his Compressionism series in May/June at Outlet Galley in Pretoria, and he will be looking for international and group exhibitions for the work. He has just launched saartsemerging.org and Upgrade Joburg, which will feature work by such luminaries as MTAA (NYC) and the co-directors of Turbulence.org (who commissioned getawayexperiment.net) in the coming months. This establishes another node on a global network of Upgrades. In other respects Upgrade is similar to, and will extend the work of, the Digital Soirees organised by Christo and Nathaniel, and other similar local events – like the Upload events held by LIquid Fridge in Cape Town, with which Nathaniel also participates.
He will also have video work on the traveling T-Minus06 video art exhibition, which starts in NYC. There is an all-Gauteng artist exhibition of interactive art in the pipeline, to be held at the prestigious Arts Interactive gallery in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Nathaniel helped to set this up after giving a talk there late last year. He has been invited to make a work for computerfinearts.com, to be archived by The Cornell University Library, The Rose Goldsen Archive of New Media Art, a Division of Rare and Manuscript Collections.
On the academic front, Nathaniel is writing a collaborative chapter for an upcoming book on cyberculture with Nicole Ridgway, called “The Implicit Body” – “it interrogates embodiment as relational and incipient, investigating how interactive art might create sites where flesh and artwork continually co-emerge, enfolding and unfolding, in a complex inter-course”.
He did the rounds of lectures and workshops overseas while travelling last year, from New York to Budapest, and he hopes to do more of the university circuit in South Africa this year – more interactive video and physical computing workshops are in the offing. All this and he’s looking into possible PhD programs too.
And last but definitely not least, Nathaniel is preparing to be a dad – he and Nicole launch their finest collaboration this May.
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Die Beeld
Exsperiment wat kyker se kyk na kuns belig
original article
Translation:
An experiment that exposes the viewer’s view of art, by Wilhelm van Rensburg
Experiment02
Marcus Neustetter and Nathaniel Stern
Franchise Gallery
The announcement of the second experiment comes as a surprise – Marcus Neustetter and Nathaniel Stern’s first one apparently came and went without being noticed. Their second experiment, however, makes quite a marked impression, in the way that it utilizes simple technological processes to ask viewers to look anew at art and the artwork at hand.
In this experiment, they use very different methods: Neustetter uses a so-called digital frottage, and Stern a sort of compressionism to push the viewer to see.
Neustetter’s frottage technique involves the ‘rubbing off’, electronic scanning, or digital photocopying of the changing reflection of the sun through the windows onto the floor of the Franchise Gallery. His works are the same dimensions as the large, bay windows in the space.
Stern’s compressionism is the simultaneously digital and analogue compression of large spaces and objects, over time, into standard A4 size images.
The difference between the two artists can be likened to that between a digital and an analogue (or comparable form) watch. The first, one that only shows the minutes and seconds separated by a colon, and the latter, complete with two dials and twelve hour numbers.
What makes it interesting is the way that both these artists redefine digital art creatively. Digital art, the cross between art and technology, usually refers to computer based image creation, and includes categories like computer art, art on the internet, interactive digital art, virtual reality, and even cell phone art. Electronic sound, apart from electronic imagery, has also become a popular digital medium. The annual Prix Ars Electronica exhibition in cyber art in Austria, for example, usually gathers considerable attention.
Different from the norm of this type of art – the changing and moving image – Neustetter and Stern capture time itself, and not the movement as such. They confront the viewer with the old analogue watch and compare it with the more sporty digital watch.
In the rubbing off/compression of time, they create their own aesthetic abstract imagery; one that captures not only the movement of time, but also the products that are being created in the changing nature of time.
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