Nancy Baker Cahill’s CORPUS
Augmented Reality (AR) reshapes art by blending the physical and digital, turning viewers into co-creators through interactive, fluid experiences. Unlike the timeless works at the Prado or MOCA, which remain fixed in tradition, AR art evolves with the viewer’s actions and expands storytelling beyond galleries. This mirrors Don Quixote’s quest, where the boundary between reality and imagination blurs, inviting the viewer / reader into a co-constructed narrative. From a data literacy perspective, AR encourages intuitive engagement with data, highlighting its layered, real-time interaction. The contrast between the National Gallery or the Prado’s permanence and AR’s dynamic possibilities underscores how art can bridge tradition and technology, much as Quixote challenges the conventions of his time.
A Digital Sculpture of Entangled Futures
CORPUS, the towering Augmented Reality (AR) figure anchored on the Hammer Museum’s sculpture terrace, invites us to consider a future of blended, embodied entanglements between human, machine, flora, and microbiome. This virtual sculpture is not just an exploration of technology’s role in art, but a bold proposition that challenges the very fabric of how we perceive reality, identity, and our place within the web of life. Through its glowing, dynamic form, CORPUS offers a visual and conceptual disruption of the boundaries that separate the organic from the technological, the physical from the digital, and the human from the non-human. I haven’t visited this exhibition, only seen the videos online showing the augmented form.
Post-humanism and Entanglement: Blurring the Boundaries
At the heart of CORPUS is a theme of posthumanism, which imagines a future where distinctions between humanity and its technological and natural counterparts dissolve. The sculpture’s hybrid form—where human anatomy is fused with the organic patterns of plants and microorganisms—resonates with the speculative visions of thinkers like Rosi Braidotti and Donna Haraway. These theorists have argued that the boundaries separating the human from the non-human, the living from the non-living, are increasingly porous in our digital and ecological age.
CORPUS mirrors this vision. Its body—a glowing, ever-shifting mass—is a site of constant transformation, where the organic and technological are not in opposition but in symbiotic entanglement. It is not merely a human figure distorted by technology, but a representation of a future where these elements are indistinguishable from one another. This idea of entanglement is also a critique of human exceptionalism, echoing Haraway’s Cyborg Manifesto, which challenges us to move beyond the anthropocentric view and recognize that humans are intertwined with machines, animals, and the earth. The microbiome and flora elements embedded in the figure further highlight the importance of non-human life forms, which often remain invisible in traditional representations of the human body.
The work speaks to a future where humans are no longer the central agents of their own story. In this context, CORPUScould be seen as an embodiment of the posthuman—not in the sense of the end of humanity, but in the reimagining of human identity as something that is no longer defined in isolation but as part of a broader, interconnected system.
In this reimagined future, CORPUS envisions a world where the boundaries between the human, the technological, and the natural dissolve—similar to the themes explored in iconic movies such as Ghost in the Shell and The Matrix. Just as Major Motoko Kusanagi in Ghost in the Shell grapples with the merging of her human consciousness and cybernetic body, CORPUS embodies the notion that human identity is no longer isolated but exists as part of a complex, interconnected system. Similarly, in The Matrix, the characters are forced to confront the artificial nature of their reality, where the distinction between the human mind and the digital world is increasingly blurred. Both narratives question human exceptionalism and highlight the fluidity of identity in a world shaped by technology. In the context of CORPUS, this fusion of organic and technological elements invites viewers to rethink humanity’s place, urging a shift away from the idea of isolated agency toward an understanding of human existence as intricately tied to the larger ecological and technological systems around us. Just as in Ghost in the Shell and The Matrix, CORPUS forces us to confront a posthuman future where identity is fluid, collective, and symbiotic.
The Digital and the Physical: The Dissonance of Augmented Reality
The AR nature of CORPUS elevates the conversation from one of purely thematic resonance to a dynamic, immersive experience that directly engages the viewer. Situated on the Hammer’s terrace on Wilshire Boulevard, the sculpture is accessible only through a smartphone device, creating a layered reality—a fourth wall (conveniently the name of the app used) that separates the viewer from the object of perception. This mediating technology forces us to reconsider how technology alters our relationship with space and materiality, echoing the profound dissonance between reality and illusion explored in Don Quixote. Like Cervantes’ Don Quixote, whose delusions of grandeur blur the line between fantasy and reality, CORPUS creates a digital world where the physical and the virtual collide, making us question the boundaries between what is real and what is simulated.
This tension between the tangible and the digital resonates with Jean Baudrillard’s theories on hyperreality. Baudrillard argues that in a world dominated by digital technologies, simulations can become more “real” than the realities they represent, blurring the line between the authentic and the fabricated. Similarly, by requiring viewers to experience the sculpture through the digital lens of their smartphones, CORPUS critiques how technology mediates and reshapes our interaction with the world. Its immaterial nature—existing only in virtual space—challenges the permanence and physicality traditionally associated with sculpture, urging us to reconsider what art can become in a digital age where the boundaries of reality are increasingly unstable.
This interplay between the digital and the physical suggests a broader shift in art toward the ephemeral and virtual. Like Don Quixote’s quest, which is both shaped by the tangible world and transformed by his fantastical perceptions, CORPUS reveals how digital spaces increasingly dominate artistic creation and our engagement with reality. It also echoes David Cronenberg’s Videodrome, where the merging of flesh and media interrogates the transformative—and often unsettling—power of technology over perception and identity. The sculpture’s intangibility evokes the digital sublime, an immersive experience that bridges the virtual and physical, making us question not only the nature of reality but our evolving place within it.
Marshall McLuhan’s idea that “the medium is the message” illuminates CORPUS’s reliance on AR. The smartphone, essential to experiencing the sculpture, shapes both its perception and meaning, turning the act of mediation into the message itself. CORPUS exists as a networked experience, where the viewer’s engagement is both empowered and constrained by technology. Like the television in Videodrome (the story can be seen as an homage to McLuhan), the smartphone extends the self, transforming perception into an integral part of the artwork and highlighting McLuhan’s belief that our tools actively redefine human experience.
Ecological Themes and the Reclamation of the Microbial World
Another compelling layer of CORPUS lies in its engagement with ecological themes, particularly through the integration of microbiomes and plant life. Unlike works where organic elements serve as aesthetic embellishments, here they are foundational, suggesting a vision where human and non-human entities coexist as equals. This echoes the growing field of eco-futurist art, aligning with thinkers like Sophie Yeo, who explores how climate art grapples with humanity’s role in ecological crises. CORPUS takes this further, embedding these invisible forms of life as intrinsic to its being, emphasizing the interdependence that sustains life on Earth.
By foregrounding the Anthropocene—the era defined by humanity’s reshaping of the planet—the sculpture critiques the hubris of technological dominance, instead advocating for a symbiosis between the organic and the synthetic. The blurring of these boundaries reflects an urgent need to rethink our ecological future, not as one of domination but of integration. In this way, CORPUS positions itself as both an artistic speculation and a call to action, challenging us to imagine coexistence as a path to survival.
The Viewer’s Role: Participating in the Entanglement
The experience of CORPUS is inherently (necessarily?) participatory, requiring the viewer to activate the sculpture through their smartphone—a device as central to contemporary life as it is to the artwork’s existence. In this way, the viewer is not merely an observer but an essential participant in the entangled system that CORPUS represents. The sculpture’s form and presence depend on this technological mediation, collapsing the boundary between object and observer. This interaction recalls the work of artists like Rafael Lozano-Hemmer, whose installations integrate the audience into the artwork itself, transforming passive observation into active engagement.
By relying on the viewer’s participation, CORPUS blurs distinctions between art, audience, and technology. The sculpture exists only through interaction, creating a shared space where the digital and physical intertwine. In doing so, it moves beyond traditional notions of art as static and complete, embracing a co-constructed reality shaped by networks of interconnected forces. Much like the flux of technological, ecological, and human systems, CORPUS offers an evolving expression of how meaning emerges collaboratively, reshaping the viewer’s role into that of an active participant in the art’s becoming.
In this way, CORPUS becomes not just a visual encounter but a metaphor for the larger ecological and technological networks that define contemporary existence. Much like Don Quixote, whose perceptions of the world are shaped by his idealized visions of chivalry and adventure, CORPUS challenges our perceptions of reality—an experience that cannot be understood without the mediation of technology. Just as Don Quixote’s quest is inextricable from his delusions, our contemporary lives cannot be disentangled from the digital and natural systems that shape them. The viewer, by engaging with the artwork, becomes an active participant in this entangled future, implicating themselves in the very realities CORPUS seeks to depict, much as Quixote’s journey invites us to explore the blurred boundaries between fantasy and reality.
CORPUS is a radical meditation on the future of human existence, framed within the interwoven relationships between nature, technology, and identity. It interrogates boundaries—both literal and metaphorical—urging us to reconsider our role in a world that increasingly resists easy categorization. Much like the intertwining of the real and the imagined in Don Quixote’s adventures, CORPUS blurs the lines between the organic and the synthetic, the human and the non-human. Through its glowing, mutable form and its invocation of ecological and post-humanist themes, the sculpture invites us to ask not what we can separate, but what we can bring together. This vision mirrors the shifting ideals of a world where boundaries dissolve, and like Quixote’s quest for a higher truth, it challenges us to reimagine what it means to be human in an increasingly complex, interconnected universe.
Madrid photos
Madrid’s architecture is a testament to the tides of history that have shaped this vibrant city. From the austere grandeur of its Habsburg-era buildings to the flourishes of Bourbon elegance, each structure reveals the ambitions and artistry of its time. The intricate details of Baroque façades echo the opulence of Spain’s Golden Age, while the orderly Neo-Classical designs of later centuries reflect a yearning for rationality and order. Iconic buildings like the Prado Museum, with its majestic neoclassical facade, and the nearby Thyssen-Bornemisza and Reina Sofía galleries, highlight the city’s devotion to both art and architecture, blending the historical with the contemporary. Together, these architectural landmarks form a living chronicle of a city that has been both the seat of empire and the cradle of modern creativity.
The Teatro Real, Madrid’s grand opera house, exemplifies this interplay of art and history. Built in the mid-19th century, it survived the upheavals of revolution and restoration, bearing witness to the cultural resilience of the city. Inside, music and performance have bridged generations, making it a temple to Spain’s enduring artistic spirit. Nearby, the Edificio Capitol on Gran Vía tells another story: one of modernity and innovation. Its Art Deco curves and illuminated signs capture a moment when Madrid looked to the future, embracing cinematic glamour and urban dynamism.
At the heart of this city’s historical and artistic identity stands the Cervantes Monument in Plaza de España, a tribute to Spain’s greatest literary voice. The bronze figures of Don Quixote and Sancho Panza stride forward on their eternal quest, embodying not only the timelessness of Cervantes’ work but also the universal struggle between idealism and reality. Here, surrounded by Madrid’s layered architectural legacy, history and art converge, reminding us that each era contributes its own verse to the city’s unfolding story.
More pics
Flamenco
I wanted to see a flamenco show while I was in Madrid and the one I went to was highly rated and close to my hotel. An evening of flamenco in Madrid is an experience that immerses you in the heart and soul of Andalusian culture. As the first notes of the guitar ring out, the air fills with an electric energy, drawing you into the world of passionate rhythms and intense emotion. The setting was cave-like, great for the acoustics. The dancers, with fiery eyes and graceful yet powerful movements, seem to pour everything into every step, the click of their heels echoing like thunder.
Spain – a few from Barcelona
I just returned from a pretty awesome trip to Spain, ostensibly to see the “Caravaggio” at the Prado in Madrid. More to come on that. My sleep schedule is off so I decided to import all of my camera photos and start editing a few. I will post food in a separate post but Caelis was fantastic as were several local small restos near my hotel in the Eixample district, just north of the old Gothic quarter. I also included some pics from MOCA where Banksy, Basquiat and Kusama can be found, quite the treat! The Sagrada Familia was fantastic although incredibly busy with crowds. I couldn’t imagine it in the summer tourist season. I liked the Picasso gallery but, TBH, I found its selection to be limited to his Blue period. The various “views” of Velasquez’s Las Meninas at the Prado were, however, sublime. The architecture of the city is amazing, not just the churches but also the various buildings that you see just wandering down the streets. The Gaudi buildings were pretty spectacular too.
Gorki, Monkman, midJourney & ChatGPT
In his influential book Painting and Experience in Fifteenth-Century Italy, Michael Baxandall explores how this specific scene of The Annunciation serves as a lens through which to understand broader themes of Renaissance art, including perspective, naturalism, and the relationship between the viewer and the artwork. As someone who grew up with an Annunciation and a Last Supper in the living room, these two compositions form important parts of western visual culture and iconology, in addition to images of Mary as theotokos in the Eastern visual cultures for people like Gorky.
I have been working on both the prompts and the images for the past several days but here is my Annunciation from Arshile Gorky and Kent Monkman. It took many iteration of both text prompting in my language model and many iteration in midJourney. I won’t bore you with the details but I wanted to blend the style with the symbology or the language that the artist used in their work. The colouring is all from the text to image application.
In the Gorky I was going for his later bio-organic style and it was the lines and shapes in the top that reminds me of the Dove and the verticality of the “rays of grace” that are found in the western iconography in addition to that wonderful dark triangle that reminds one of the room in the background, another symbol in the western tradition meaning her purity of spirit.
The colours were pure Gorki, greys but with his vibrant use of colour, drawing inspiration from Byzantine mosaics and Armenian manuscripts, which imbue his abstract works with a rich, emotional depth and a connection to his cultural heritage. So many surprises, like the shapes that could be shadows? Wow!
The Monkman was more difficult but it was the AI image application that was the problem, it always wanted to put the annunciation characters front and centre as it normally does, unlike how Monkman puts characters as much smaller in the overall landscapes. I was amazed at how this image portrays the angel Gabriel as an energetic force of nature (I didn’t prompt that), moving away from the colonialist tendency to anthropomorphize religious figures (again, I didn’t prompt this).
I also love how the flowers worked themselves into the foreground and I couldn’t get the right background no matter what I did. It kept on giving me Lord of the Rings mountains 🙂
Terminator Zero: Another Franchise rebooted?
Terminator Zero offers a compelling reimagining of the iconic Terminator universe through an anime-inspired aesthetic, blending futuristic despair with philosophical musings on technology and humanity. As a contemporary entry in the franchise, it explores the interplay between technology and human fate, focusing on temporal paradoxes, technology, identity and free will.
The series is set in an apocalyptic 2022, presenting a future dominated by Skynet’s cyborg tyranny. Malcolm Lee, a data scientist whose work aims to preempt Judgment Day through the creation of an advanced AI, becomes a pivotal figure. Simultaneously, Eiko, a warrior from the future, journeys back to 1997 to thwart Skynet’s plans, weaving together a narrative that spans space-time. This duality in storytelling reflects a deeper philosophical inquiry into the nature of space-time, causality, and the cyclical nature of human struggle against technological determinism.
Visually, Terminator Zero stands as a testament to the evolution of anime’s capacity to depict intricate, dystopian landscapes. The series draws inspiration from the rich traditions of cyberpunk and speculative fiction, merging influences from classic visual styles while charting a distinct course of its own. The raw intensity of its action sequences, characterized by graphic depictions of violence, underscores the franchise’s exploration of humanity’s fragility in the face of relentless technological forces. This approach resonates with historical shifts in art and cinema, where advancements in technology have enabled more profound and unsettling portrayals of conflict and destruction.
This visual strategy illuminates the intricate relationship between technology and representation, echoing significant changes that have shaped artistic narratives over time, particularly concerning depictions of turmoil. As technology evolves, artists and filmmakers leverage these innovations to delve into the complexities of human experience during crises. Such resonances not only amplify the emotional weight of their narratives but also stimulate critical engagement with the ethical implications of these portrayals. The unsettling nature of these representations challenges audiences to confront often-hidden realities of violence and suffering, ultimately redefining our understanding of artistic expression and the very nature of conflict in contemporary society. Through this lens, we witness a transformative dialogue between media, memory, and the visceral impact of visual storytelling.
A compelling example of this dynamic interplay between technology and the portrayal of conflict is evident in the work of contemporary artist and filmmaker Hito Steyerl. In her piece How Not to Be Seen: A Fucking Didactic Educational .MOV File (2013), Steyerl employs digital media to interrogate issues of visibility and invisibility within the realms of warfare and surveillance. By blending satirical humor with stark imagery, she reveals the paradox of being seen in a world overwhelmed by visual data while simultaneously critiquing the militarization of technology and the commodification of conflict. Utilizing advanced visual techniques, such as CGI and immersive video environments, Steyerl not only underscores the disturbing realities of modern warfare but also encourages viewers to reflect on their complicity in the spectacle of violence. Her work exemplifies how technological advancements in visual media facilitate profound and unsettling explorations of societal issues, compelling audiences to reconsider their relationship with the images that dominate contemporary discourse.
However, this Terminator series’ narrative unfolds with a certain rigidity. Malcolm’s philosophical exchanges with Kokoro delve into the ethical implications of AI and humanity’s place in the cosmos, yet these dialogues occasionally veer into the abstract, distancing themselves from the visceral urgency of the story. This dynamic reflects a broader discourse in media theory about the balance between intellectual depth and emotional engagement in visual storytelling. The philosophical underpinnings of Malcolm’s and Kokoro’s debates, while intellectually stimulating, sometimes overshadow the narrative’s emotional core.
Eiko’s role as the protector of the past introduces a fresh perspective in Terminator Zero, yet her storyline struggles to integrate seamlessly with Malcolm’s narrative. The collision of these distinct arcs, while visually striking, ultimately lacks the narrative cohesion needed to fully engage the audience. This disjunction underscores a recurring challenge in reimagining established franchises: balancing the essence of the original while incorporating novel elements without sacrificing narrative coherence.
Despite these challenges, Terminator Zero succeeds in re-contextualizing the franchise within a new medium and aesthetic framework. The series presents a visually arresting and thematically rich exploration of familiar motifs, drawing on the iconic themes of the franchise while infusing them with contemporary relevance. However, it remains somewhat constrained by its adherence to formulaic visual storytelling and a tendency towards emotional detachment. In its ambitious attempt to merge philosophical inquiry with futuristic action, the series offers an intriguing, albeit imperfect, reflection on the enduring tension between humanity and technology begun years ago in the future. This complex interplay invites audiences to ponder deeper questions about the implications of technological “advancement” while grappling with the emotional stakes of its characters’ journeys.
Exploring Friendship and Worldviews in Akira Kurosawa’s Dersu Uzala
Akira Kurosawa’s Dersu Uzala (1975) is a masterful exploration of friendship and the complex interplay between contrasting worldviews. Based on the memoirs of Russian explorer Vladimir Arsenyev, the film beautifully captures the bond between Dersu Uzala, a Goldi hunter, and Arsenyev as they traverse the breathtaking yet unforgiving Siberian wilderness. This relationship unfolds against a backdrop of stunning cinematography, highlighting not only the vastness of nature but also the philosophical inquiries that lie at the heart of Kurosawa’s storytelling. Asakazu Nakai‘s cinematography is, as always, impressive.
At its core, Dersu Uzala illustrates the deep connection between its two protagonists, rooted in respect and mutual understanding. Dersu’s profound relationship with the natural world contrasts sharply with Arsenyev’s more rational, “modern” approach to exploration. This juxtaposition serves as a commentary on the tension between traditional wisdom and contemporary thinking. As the film progresses, the friendship between Dersu and Arsenyev evolves, revealing the richness of their shared experiences and the value of embracing differing perspectives.
The evolving friendship between Dersu and Arsenyev is further illuminated by Kurosawa’s masterful cinematography, which not only captures the breathtaking beauty of the Siberian landscape but also acts as a visual commentary on their contrasting worldviews. As the characters navigate the vastness of their environment, the cinematography reflects their internal journeys, showcasing how Dersu’s intuitive understanding of nature complements Arsenyev’s rational perspective. The interplay between the two men and their surroundings emphasizes the film’s central themes: the difficulties of respecting traditional wisdom while engaging with contemporary thought and technologies. This dynamic relationship is beautifully mirrored in the expansive frames, which invite viewers to ponder the intricate connections between humanity, nature, and the differing philosophies that shape our understanding of the world.
The cinematography of Dersu Uzala plays a vital role in conveying these themes. Shot in 70mm film stock, the film immerses viewers in the grandeur of the Siberian landscape. Kurosawa’s sweeping shots and meticulous framing not only enhance the visual experience but also serve as a metaphor for the philosophical questions the film raises. The vast wilderness mirrors the emotional depth of the characters’ relationship, while the challenges they face together reflect the broader struggles of reconciling different worldviews.
While the cinematography of Dersu Uzala vividly encapsulates the film’s thematic essence, it also serves as a narrative device that deepens our understanding of the characters’ evolution. The visual artistry not only presents the stunning expanse of the Siberian wilderness but also captures the subtleties of the protagonists’ emotional landscapes. As Dersu and Arsenyev traverse this imposing terrain, the camera’s perspective shifts, reflecting their growing bond and mutual respect. This dynamic interplay between the landscape and their journey highlights the fluidity of their relationship, suggesting that navigating the complexities of nature mirrors their quest for harmony between intuition and reason. In this way, Kurosawa not only portrays their struggles but also emphasizes how embracing different worldviews can lead to personal transformation and a richer understanding of one another.
In the scene where the shadow of the tiger looms over Arsenyev’s tent, the film poignantly illustrates the cultural divide that underpins the relationship between Dersu and Arsenyev. Through Arsenyev’s voiceover, he expresses his assumption that Dersu’s claim of seeing the tiger is merely a product of his magic, revealing his skepticism and reliance on rationality. This moment encapsulates the tension between their worldviews: Dersu’s deep-rooted connection to nature and its mysteries stands in stark contrast to Arsenyev’s modern sensibilities. While Dersu’s understanding is grounded in instinct and lived experience, Arsenyev’s perspective struggles to appreciate the unseen forces that govern their environment. The tiger’s shadow serves as a haunting reminder of the unknown and the complexities inherent in the natural world, emphasizing how Dersu’s worldview, though often dismissed, offers valuable insights that challenge the harmonious narrative frequently presented by followers of modernity. Through this visual and narrative juxtaposition, Kurosawa enriches the film’s exploration of friendship amidst the vast, often inscrutable wilderness.
Through stunning visuals and poignant storytelling, Kurosawa invites viewers to contemplate the intricate relationship between humanity and nature. Dersu embodies a worldview that values intuition and instinct, whereas Arsenyev’s perspective is rooted in scientific understanding. Their journey through the wilderness becomes a metaphor for the search for balance between these opposing ideologies. As they confront the challenges of their environment, they learn to appreciate the strengths each brings to their partnership, ultimately revealing the transformative power of friendship.
As the narrative unfolds, Dersu’s departure from the settlement underscores the incompatibility of his traditional worldview with the encroaching forces of modernity. After being arrested for cutting down a tree—an act that symbolizes his deep connection to nature and the resources it provides—Dersu is thrust into a world that no longer understands his way of life. This disconnection is further accentuated by the rifle he receives, a seemingly innocuous gift that ultimately is responsible for his death. The new rifle, with its powerful scope, represents the very modernization that alienates Dersu from his environment; it transforms him from a harmonious participant in nature to a more detached observer. In this way, the tool intended to empower him becomes a catalyst for his demise, reinforcing the film’s poignant message about the fragility of traditional ways of life in the face of progress and the inherent dangers that can arise from losing touch with one’s roots.
In an era increasingly defined by modernity, Dersu Uzala stands as a compelling meditation on the necessity of understanding and honouring diverse perspectives. Kurosawa’s film not only highlights the profound bond between Dersu and Arsenyev but also invites viewers to contemplate their own relationships with nature and one another. The narrative serves as a critical lens through which we examine the tensions inherent in the dichotomy of urban and rural life, reminiscent of the broader European discourse on town versus country and emergent suburbanization in America.
Kurosawa challenges us to reflect on our own place within this landscape of change. Dersu’s journey invites us to consider the implications of progress on personal and communal identities, urging a reevaluation of what it means to coexist harmoniously with both nature and each other. In doing so, Dersu Uzala transcends its historical context, becoming a timeless exploration of the human condition, one that resonates with contemporary struggles against the backdrop of an ever-evolving world.
Homelands – Dance at the NAC
Wow! I saw Homelands last night at the NAC and I was very impressed with the production. The three dancers on the stage were behind a thin screen that they use to project images of running water and other elements of nature. At one point the dancer on the stage was duplicated 6 or 7 times on the projected screen giving the impression that the dancers were joined by ghosts on the stage. The projected images sometimes occupied the top half of the screen creating a sense of aporia between real and fantasy, presence and hauntings. Very impressive and kudos to the production and dancers!
