The Cloud
- Publication Type:
- Exhibition
- Citation:
- The Cloud
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| Filename | Description | Size | |||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| The Cloud_ Biljana Jancic + Alex Munt _ Mosman Art Gallery.pdf | Published version | 178.64 kB |
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THE CLOUD Biljana Jancic + Alex Munt Representations of vapour clouds are entrenched in visual cultures. The amorphous appeal of the cloud finds form across media from Chinese painting of the Ming Dynasty to the photography of Edward Weston. More recently, artists have sought to interiorise the cloud within gallery spaces, from the Sliver Clouds of Andy Warhol (with engineer Billy Klüver) to the atmospheric interior clouds of Berndnaut Smilde. For architects Diller & Scofidio a cloud operates as an architectural façade in their Blur Building. With Super Mario Clouds Cory Arcangel ‘mods’ a Nintendo video game to erase all but the scrolling cloud graphics. Colloquially, any talk of ‘clouds’ is less likely to be in relation to the amorphous vapour phenomena drifting high above and more likely to be in relation to new forms of cloud computing. If the former is transcendental in its elevation from our terrestrial plane – new conceptions of ‘the cloud’ are radically different. That is, despite the intentions of corporate branding and iconography, the data clouds exist as highly-concrete terrestrial and sub-terrestrial silicon-based network structures. ‘The Cloud’ aims to conflate these two associations. It refers to both natural tempests of the cloud and the new anxieties associated with the potential threat of the malevolent gaze across the internet. The work functions as a site-specific media installation at Mosman Art Gallery. A ‘cloudscape’ is captured with an industrial monochromatic surveillance camera mounted to a gallery window. Here, localised cloud forms are projected as a real-time feed into the ‘black box’ of The Cube. On the floor, a highly-reflective mirror surface generates a double image of this cloudscape to produce an immersive experience. On the adjacent wall, another video channel captures visitors in The Balnaves Gift exhibition, on the floor below, as they interact with the landscape paintings. The camera is trained on ‘The Spit’ (1935, Oil on canvas, 45 x 55 cm) by James R. Jackson, which documents the clouds above The Spit in Mosman. Together these references create an environment that allows us to reflect on the way in which mediation and transmission keep us in a permanent state of suspension. In other words, we are both located in space and time but also players in a floating world. Representations of vapour clouds are entrenched in visual cultures. The amorphous appeal of the cloud finds form across media from Chinese painting of the Ming Dynasty to the photography of Edward Weston. More recently, artists have sought to interiorise the cloud within gallery spaces, from the Sliver Clouds of Andy Warhol (with engineer Billy Klüver) to the atmospheric interior clouds of Berndnaut Smilde. For architects Diller & Scofidio a cloud operates as an architectural façade in their Blur Building. With Super Mario Clouds Cory Arcangel ‘mods’ a Nintendo video game to erase all but the scrolling cloud graphics. Colloquially, any talk of ‘clouds’ is less likely to be in relation to the amorphous vapour phenomena drifting high above and more likely to be in relation to new forms of cloud computing. If the former is transcendental in its elevation from our terrestrial plane – new conceptions of ‘the cloud’ are radically different. That is, despite the intentions of corporate branding and iconography, the data clouds exist as highly-concrete terrestrial and sub-terrestrial silicon-based network structures. ‘The Cloud’ aims to conflate these two associations. It refers to both natural tempests of the cloud and the new anxieties associated with the potential threat of the malevolent gaze across the internet. The work functions as a site-specific media installation at Mosman Art Gallery. A ‘cloudscape’ is captured with an industrial monochromatic surveillance camera mounted to a gallery window. Here, localised cloud forms are projected as a real-time feed into the ‘black box’ of The Cube. On the floor, a highly-reflective mirror surface generates a double image of this cloudscape to produce an immersive experience. On the adjacent wall, another video channel captures visitors in The Balnaves Gift exhibition, on the floor below, as they interact with the landscape paintings. The camera is trained on ‘The Spit’ (1935, Oil on canvas, 45 x 55 cm) by James R. Jackson, which documents the clouds above The Spit in Mosman. Together these references create an environment that allows us to reflect on the way in which mediation and transmission keep us in a permanent state of suspension. In other words, we are both located in space and time but also players in a floating world. Representations of vapour clouds are entrenched in visual cultures. The amorphous appeal of the cloud finds form across media from Chinese painting of the Ming Dynasty to the photography of Edward Weston. More recently, artists have sought to interiorise the cloud within gallery spaces, from the Sliver Clouds of Andy Warhol (with engineer Billy Klüver) to the atmospheric interior clouds of Berndnaut Smilde. For architects Diller & Scofidio a cloud operates as an architectural façade in their Blur Building. With Super Mario Clouds Cory Arcangel ‘mods’ a Nintendo video game to erase all but the scrolling cloud graphics. Colloquially, any talk of ‘clouds’ is less likely to be in relation to the amorphous vapour phenomena drifting high above and more likely to be in relation to new forms of cloud computing. If the former is transcendental in its elevation from our terrestrial plane – new conceptions of ‘the cloud’ are radically different. That is, despite the intentions of corporate branding and iconography, the data clouds exist as highly-concrete terrestrial and sub-terrestrial silicon-based network structures. ‘The Cloud’ aims to conflate these two associations. It refers to both natural tempests of the cloud and the new anxieties associated with the potential threat of the malevolent gaze across the internet. The work functions as a site-specific media installation at Mosman Art Gallery. A ‘cloudscape’ is captured with an industrial monochromatic surveillance camera mounted to a gallery window. Here, localised cloud forms are projected as a real-time feed into the ‘black box’ of The Cube. On the floor, a highly-reflective mirror surface generates a double image of this cloudscape to produce an immersive experience. On the adjacent wall, another video channel captures visitors in The Balnaves Gift exhibition, on the floor below, as they interact with the landscape paintings. The camera is trained on ‘The Spit’ (1935, Oil on canvas, 45 x 55 cm) by James R. Jackson, which documents the clouds above The Spit in Mosman. Together these references create an environment that allows us to reflect on the way in which mediation and transmission keep us in a permanent state of suspension. In other words, we are both located in space and time but also players in a floating world. Representations of vapour clouds are entrenched in visual cultures. The amorphous appeal of the cloud finds form across media from Chinese painting of the Ming Dynasty to the photography of Edward Weston. More recently, artists have sought to interiorise the cloud within gallery spaces, from the Sliver Clouds of Andy Warhol (with engineer Billy Klüver) to the atmospheric interior clouds of Berndnaut Smilde. For architects Diller & Scofidio a cloud operates as an architectural façade in their Blur Building. With Super Mario Clouds Cory Arcangel ‘mods’ a Nintendo video game to erase all but the scrolling cloud graphics. Colloquially, any talk of ‘clouds’ is less likely to be in relation to the amorphous vapour phenomena drifting high above and more likely to be in relation to new forms of cloud computing. If the former is transcendental in its elevation from our terrestrial plane – new conceptions of ‘the cloud’ are radically different. That is, despite the intentions of corporate branding and iconography, the data clouds exist as highly-concrete terrestrial and sub-terrestrial silicon-based network structures. ‘The Cloud’ aims to conflate these two associations. It refers to both natural tempests of the cloud and the new anxieties associated with the potential threat of the malevolent gaze across the internet. The work functions as a site-specific media installation at Mosman Art Gallery. A ‘cloudscape’ is captured with an industrial monochromatic surveillance camera mounted to a gallery window. Here, localised cloud forms are projected as a real-time feed into the ‘black box’ of The Cube. On the floor, a highly-reflective mirror surface generates a double image of this cloudscape to produce an immersive experience. On the adjacent wall, another video channel captures visitors in The Balnaves Gift exhibition, on the floor below, as they interact with the landscape paintings. The camera is trained on ‘The Spit’ (1935, Oil on canvas, 45 x 55 cm) by James R. Jackson, which documents the clouds above The Spit in Mosman. Together these references create an environment that allows us to reflect on the way in which mediation and transmission keep us in a permanent state of suspension. In other words, we are both located in space and time but also players in a floating world. Representations of vapour clouds are entrenched in visual cultures. The amorphous appeal of the cloud finds form across media from Chinese painting of the Ming Dynasty to the photography of Edward Weston. More recently, artists have sought to interiorise the cloud within gallery spaces, from the Sliver Clouds of Andy Warhol (with engineer Billy Klüver) to the atmospheric interior clouds of Berndnaut Smilde. For architects Diller & Scofidio a cloud operates as an architectural façade in their Blur Building. With Super Mario Clouds Cory Arcangel ‘mods’ a Nintendo video game to erase all but the scrolling cloud graphics. Colloquially, any talk of ‘clouds’ is less likely to be in relation to the amorphous vapour phenomena drifting high above and more likely to be in relation to new forms of cloud computing. If the former is transcendental in its elevation from our terrestrial plane – new conceptions of ‘the cloud’ are radically different. That is, despite the intentions of corporate branding and iconography, the data clouds exist as highly-concrete terrestrial and sub-terrestrial silicon-based network structures. ‘The Cloud’ aims to conflate these two associations. It refers to both natural tempests of the cloud and the new anxieties associated with the potential threat of the malevolent gaze across the internet. The work functions as a site-specific media installation at Mosman Art Gallery. A ‘cloudscape’ is captured with an industrial monochromatic surveillance camera mounted to a gallery window. Here, localised cloud forms are projected as a real-time feed into the ‘black box’ of The Cube. On the floor, a highly-reflective mirror surface generates a double image of this cloudscape to produce an immersive experience. On the adjacent wall, another video channel captures visitors in The Balnaves Gift exhibition, on the floor below, as they interact with the landscape paintings. The camera is trained on ‘The Spit’ (1935, Oil on canvas, 45 x 55 cm) by James R. Jackson, which documents the clouds above The Spit in Mosman. Together these references create an environment that allows us to reflect on the way in which mediation and transmission keep us in a permanent state of suspension. In other words, we are both located in space and time but also players in a floating world. Representations of vapour clouds are entrenched in visual cultures. The amorphous appeal of the cloud finds form across media from Chinese painting of the Ming Dynasty to the photography of Edward Weston. More recently, artists have sought to interiorise the cloud within gallery spaces, from the Sliver Clouds of Andy Warhol (with engineer Billy Klüver) to the atmospheric interior clouds of Berndnaut Smilde. For architects Diller & Scofidio a cloud operates as an architectural façade in their Blur Building. With Super Mario Clouds Cory Arcangel ‘mods’ a Nintendo video game to erase all but the scrolling cloud graphics. Colloquially, any talk of ‘clouds’ is less likely to be in relation to the amorphous vapour phenomena drifting high above and more likely to be in relation to new forms of cloud computing. If the former is transcendental in its elevation from our terrestrial plane – new conceptions of ‘the cloud’ are radically different. That is, despite the intentions of corporate branding and iconography, the data clouds exist as highly-concrete terrestrial and sub-terrestrial silicon-based network structures. ‘The Cloud’ aims to conflate these two associations. It refers to both natural tempests of the cloud and the new anxieties associated with the potential threat of the malevolent gaze across the internet. The work functions as a site-specific media installation at Mosman Art Gallery. A ‘cloudscape’ is captured with an industrial monochromatic surveillance camera mounted to a gallery window. Here, localised cloud forms are projected as a real-time feed into the ‘black box’ of The Cube. On the floor, a highly-reflective mirror surface generates a double image of this cloudscape to produce an immersive experience. On the adjacent wall, another video channel captures visitors in The Balnaves Gift exhibition, on the floor below, as they interact with the landscape paintings. The camera is trained on ‘The Spit’ (1935, Oil on canvas, 45 x 55 cm) by James R. Jackson, which documents the clouds above The Spit in Mosman. Together these references create an environment that allows us to reflect on the way in which mediation and transmission keep us in a permanent state of suspension. In other words, we are both located in space and time but also players in a floating world. Representations of vapour clouds are entrenched in visual cultures. The amorphous appeal of the cloud finds form across media from Chinese painting of the Ming Dynasty to the photography of Edward Weston. More recently, artists have sought to interiorise the cloud within gallery spaces, from the Sliver Clouds of Andy Warhol (with engineer Billy Klüver) to the atmospheric interior clouds of Berndnaut Smilde. For architects Diller & Scofidio a cloud operates as an architectural façade in their Blur Building. With Super Mario Clouds Cory Arcangel ‘mods’ a Nintendo video game to erase all but the scrolling cloud graphics. Colloquially, any talk of ‘clouds’ is less likely to be in relation to the amorphous vapour phenomena drifting high above and more likely to be in relation to new forms of cloud computing. If the former is transcendental in its elevation from our terrestrial plane – new conceptions of ‘the cloud’ are radically different. That is, despite the intentions of corporate branding and iconography, the data clouds exist as highly-concrete terrestrial and sub-terrestrial silicon-based network structures. ‘The Cloud’ aims to conflate these two associations. It refers to both natural tempests of the cloud and the new anxieties associated with the potential threat of the malevolent gaze across the internet. The work functions as a site-specific media installation at Mosman Art Gallery. A ‘cloudscape’ is captured with an industrial monochromatic surveillance camera mounted to a gallery window. Here, localised cloud forms are projected as a real-time feed into the ‘black box’ of The Cube. On the floor, a highly-reflective mirror surface generates a double image of this cloudscape to produce an immersive experience. On the adjacent wall, another video channel captures visitors in The Balnaves Gift exhibition, on the floor below, as they interact with the landscape paintings. The camera is trained on ‘The Spit’ (1935, Oil on canvas, 45 x 55 cm) by James R. Jackson, which documents the clouds above The Spit in Mosman. Together these references create an environment that allows us to reflect on the way in which mediation and transmission keep us in a permanent state of suspension. In other words, we are both located in space and time but also players in a floating world. Representations of vapour clouds are entrenched in visual cultures. The amorphous appeal of the cloud finds form across media from Chinese painting of the Ming Dynasty to the photography of Edward Weston. More recently, artists have sought to interiorise the cloud within gallery spaces, from the Sliver Clouds of Andy Warhol (with engineer Billy Klüver) to the atmospheric interior clouds of Berndnaut Smilde. For architects Diller & Scofidio a cloud operates as an architectural façade in their Blur Building. With Super Mario Clouds Cory Arcangel ‘mods’ a Nintendo video game to erase all but the scrolling cloud graphics. Colloquially, any talk of ‘clouds’ is less likely to be in relation to the amorphous vapour phenomena drifting high above and more likely to be in relation to new forms of cloud computing. If the former is transcendental in its elevation from our terrestrial plane – new conceptions of ‘the cloud’ are radically different. That is, despite the intentions of corporate branding and iconography, the data clouds exist as highly-concrete terrestrial and sub-terrestrial silicon-based network structures. ‘The Cloud’ aims to conflate these two associations. It refers to both natural tempests of the cloud and the new anxieties associated with the potential threat of the malevolent gaze across the internet. The work functions as a site-specific media installation at Mosman Art Gallery. A ‘cloudscape’ is captured with an industrial monochromatic surveillance camera mounted to a gallery window. Here, localised cloud forms are projected as a real-time feed into the ‘black box’ of The Cube. On the floor, a highly-reflective mirror surface generates a double image of this cloudscape to produce an immersive experience. On the adjacent wall, another video channel captures visitors in The Balnaves Gift exhibition, on the floor below, as they interact with the landscape paintings. The camera is trained on ‘The Spit’ (1935, Oil on canvas, 45 x 55 cm) by James R. Jackson, which documents the clouds above The Spit in Mosman. Together these references create an environment that allows us to reflect on the way in which mediation and transmission keep us in a permanent state of suspension. In other words, we are both located in space and time but also players in a floating world.
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