International Paneling/August 2023
Image by Horster
Mid Summer Musings from Berlin and Dancing with the Digital Devil?
by Leo Kuelbs
Berlin
This summer, Berlin has been a strange island of calm. Yes, the Pride Party was surely wild, and the Love Parade delivered its “Rave the Planet” manifesto, taking the term “political party” to a new level. The fund-raising part of the event seems to not have turned out as planned, but the dance club crowd, at least, hopefully got back on its feet after the dismal COVID years. The weather this summer has been especially mild and wet, so, once again, Berlin is at odds with much of the rest of the planet. It’s a nice gift after the long and gray winter past.
The real estate situation keeps getting weirder and pockets of mostly immigrant anger and unrest seem to be swelling alongside. And inflation. Any normal person has been dealing with this crazy shit now for a while, and one wonders when that sucking feeling will stop. The war, writer’s strike, and the hotter weather are some of the other ambient stressors. But hey, I didn’t complain about Germany’s lack of air conditioning once this year! And most of the neighbors are gone. There also seems to have been some more turnover with friends and colleagues, either moving away or moving into other aspects of their lives. It feels like we are all in the midst of big changes, yet floating for a moment, as the wheel just continues to spin.
Back in 2012, I wrote a concept for a show titled “Codex Dynamic,” which featured video art (many, many artists) and a huge presentation of mapping work (thanks to Glowing Bulbs of Budapest and Integrated Visions of Brooklyn). The talk at the time was that 2012 was the end of the Mayan Calendar. What did it mean? After thinking about this for a few weeks, it came to me that the Mayans perhaps DID see into the future. But the Mayan reality would have been based more on the land and people in the area. Some alien gods from their past played into the thing, and, you know, it did work okay for over 5000 years. They could extrapolate from what they knew. Yet they knew there would be more. But first, what could the ending mean/be?
The answer, to me, was the functional end of the “Terrestrial Period,” meaning feet on ground, eyes on stars and initial (for that era) integration with the earth. For the “Codex Dynamic” concept, the Mayan calendar ended about 2012, the terrestrial stuff fully manifested, maybe even metastasized, then fully gave way to the deluge of the “Digital Era.” This digital experience is now the dominant force shaping humanity writ large. Entertainment, social interaction, industry, government, moving money, buying stuff—pretty much everything--has been impacted. The spin on “Codex Dynamic” was that we should try to integrate as much good stuff from the earlier period into the new period while we still had/have a chance. To not easily give up everything the last several thousand years of what being a person was/is all about. The clock is ticking, by the way. Does the digital clock seem to tick faster to you?
During the virus, the thought that COVID was somehow a “digital knife,” came into play. I didn’t know what it meant, but it stuck with me. Now when I think about it, it’s clear that while we were all indoors, spending immense amounts of time with all of our digital companions, that this new reality had a tremendous opportunity and impact on us all. It made division of populaces happen faster, easier, and more volatile. The “eyes on all of the time” broke people into rigid groups, cut societies in pieces, and exposed parts of our social systems and contracts as being only selectively honored.
I mean, I have heard some people say they would like to have things be the same as they were “before.” We must all admit that everyone had different experiences “before.”
On that note, the big merit of cell phone cameras is that they did and do allow for exposure of long, long-term violence toward large sections of our population. Sure, since then, there has been more unrest. But now there is also no denying that some people in positions of power, there to protect, were not doing that at all. We pretty much knew this before, but now there are pictures, videos, voices. I mean, I have heard some people say they would like to have things be the same as they were “before.” We must all admit that everyone had different experiences “before.”
Anyway, keeping order in society is difficult, for sure. And now, global changes happening at digital speed are not easily managed by countries whose political systems are based on pre-digital (Magna Carta) models and run by the few who are willing to step into the breach. And not all willing are there to serve the whole. Many have other reasons entirely. Whew!
So, while we sit around watching the baby boomers head into nursing care and beyond, listen to discussions of social security nets being removed for the younger generations, the impacts and management of AI, and massive investment groups buying up rental properties, globally, it’s clear we are in for a wild ride into a great digital unknown. But that doesn’t mean that we must just roll along with it. I applaud those staying active in making their points of view heard. And digital does provide places for that. Pulling together, even while disagreeing, is at a premium these days. And it’s pretty necessary, in my opinion. We here at International Paneling are about encouraging that situation and adding our positive energy towards more positive digital/terrestrial harmony in our evolving world. Now praise Elon Musk and pass the remote…?
Shorty of the Month! Zoé Duchesne, "Self Abolition," from Digital Fairy Tales: Vengeance is Mine
This amazing clip by Paris-based artist, actress and model, Zoe Dechesne, is an exploration of the manipulation of identity as a weapon. Her modeling background adds to the depth of concept that considers the blurring of personhood and loss of individuality for the sake of pleasing the audience to further extremes. This dangerous game was presented in 2019 as part of DIGITAL FAIRY TALES: Vengeance is Mine. Check out the video and her link below for more info!
Image by Juliane Pieper
Right Down the Road at Poetry Place!
by Paul Ilechko
Lamberville, NJ
Everything at the Same Time
Everything is happening at once says the latest science there is no such thing as sequential time
which is a trick of the mind or a limitation of our ability to experience our world is a gold chain
around the neck of a god with every link a distinct universe and the chain is infinitely long
but all that I am craving is more time with you because I am blind deaf and dumb and I
have yet to grasp the future that has already occurred or this specific example of so many possible
futures
It was a full moon last night and we walked together to the ice-cream shop once again failing to
arrive at the same time as we set off me choosing the blood orange and you the mocha chip
before returning through the cool night to home walking together across the silent streets
finding our front door locked as we had left it the porch light glowing moths fluttering around
the bulb just as we flutter around the concepts of the continuum concepts that we will never be
fully able to grasp.
What does AI mean for Artists’ Copyright?
by Dirk Lehr
Berlin
Artificial intelligence (AI) is playing an increasingly important role in many areas of life. Whether in mobility, in communication technologies or in production processes. Artists are also increasingly using AI to create works. But what does AI mean for artist authorship? What is the legal situation? Are the existing laws prepared for this or do they need to be adapted to the new reality?
Only recently, the German photographer and artist Boris Eldagsen rejected the Sony World Photography Award in the “Open Creative” category and instead called for a debate on the use and risks of artificial intelligence. Eldagsen had partially created his winning photo with AI, which the organizers apparently did not notice. Eldagsen commented on the subsequent allegations of misleading that he pointed this out when submitting the picture.
Both in Europe and in the USA, authors of works of art can (still) only be human beings. In Europe, the prerequisite for the existence of a copyrightable work is that it is the result of a personal intellectual creation. Photographs taken by monkeys do not constitute a copyright work, nor do pictures painted by elephants, driftwood shaped by the sea, or rocks shaped by the tides. It’s no different in the US, except that here an artist can formally protect their copyright. A corresponding registration is not possible in Europe. The copyright arises here by nature with the creation of the work.
The US Copyright Office’s Copyright Office Compendium specifically states that works created by nature, animals, or plants cannot be registered. It also includes “works produced by a machine or a purely mechanical process that occurs randomly or automatically without the creative input or intervention of a human author”. The Copyright Office also clarified in a recent statement on AI that if “the traditional elements of authorship of a work were produced by a machine, the work lacks human authorship and the office will not register it.” The office did not rule out that artists who created works with the help of AI should always be denied authorship. Because there could be cases in which “a work that contains AI-generated material also contains sufficient human authorship to support a copyright claim.” Whether this is the case is always a case-to-case question and can be answered don’t generalize.
It goes without saying that the use of tools such as brushes, cameras or programs such as Photoshop do not stand in the way of copyright protection if they are used by a person. A painter who paints a picture is of course its author, as is the one who takes a photograph. Because both exercise full control over the creation of the work and are personally responsible for the result. The named aids only serve as will-controlled tools of humans.
However, if the control of the will is taken over by AI and the human completely relinquishes his influence on the result, it is nothing more than technically generated random art.
However, if the control of the will is taken over by AI and the human completely relinquishes his influence on the result, it is nothing more than technically generated random art. It is certainly possible, even under the current legal situation, for an artist to use AI like a tool. As long as he can help control the creative process and remains master of the creative process, AI-generated art can also be the result of human creation. Agree to the Copyright Office here. In contrast to other tools, however, there will be a fine line where will control ends and AI’s takeover of dominance begins. It is more than doubtful that AI will be privileged by legislators in the future.
Because the principle that only results that were personally created by a person can enjoy copyright protection is the essential feature of copyright. There must also be a distinction between man and machine in the future, otherwise copyright law would be reduced to absurdity. If AI were to be granted copyright protection as such, this would also have to apply to animals, plants, wind, weather, water and fire, for example.
It’s Time for…3 Questions with Visakh Menon!
Artist, Educator, and Digital Innovator, Visakh Menon spends most of his time in Queens, NYC. His analog works often reference glitch and other digitally derived concepts, and he teaches graphic design at NY city college of Technology- CUNY. Bringing together and working within the overlaid worlds of digital and analog is a key part of Visakh’s practice. We are so happy that he is here! Let’s check out what he has to say!
The Questions:
1. Hey Visakh! So glad you are doing this! Okay…So, tell us about your background in the art and tech worlds, as well as your family’s journeys, and why you decided to land in New York.
2. So, did you start as an artist? What brought art and technology together for you? I think you are a pretty essential person when it comes to bringing seemingly disparate pieces together. Do you feel that way, as well?
3. What are you working on now and what are you looking forward to in the foreseeable future? And then…beyond…?
Image by Tom D. Rotenberg
Minneapolis Through New Eyes
by Mark Bailey
Minneapolis
Here in Minneapolis, the air is hazy from Canadian wildfire smoke. It's not overwhelming like it is in some other places, but the haze is enough to slightly obscure the view of the city skyline from my bedroom. And the smell is vaguely dystopian.
A friend of mine was leaving the gym the other day, walking and listening to music through headphones. Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain in his butt. My friend had been hit by something, yet when he looked around the streets appeared deserted. So he took the bus to the hospital and an x-ray revealed a projectile lodged in his buttock. It was a small caliber bullet. He'd been anonymously shot while walking down the street at eleven in the morning.
In a few weeks, my girlfriend will be moving here from San Francisco, where crime is comparably rampant and the cost of living is even more inflated. In introducing her to my hometown, I'm seeing Minneapolis with fresh eyes. As cities go, it's not so bad.
The arts scene is huge, but not in the sense that we have hundreds of good galleries. More like we have hordes of talented and dedicated artists practicing their craft here. But almost no one is selling art in Minneapolis. It's a city for making art, not selling it.
The music scene here is similar to the visual art scene, but ten times bigger. Our street musicians can compete with anyone playing a New York subway. In summertime, it's common to hear people strumming guitars and banjos around backyard campfires or on the porches of subdivided Victorian houses. Any decent musician can earn enough to get by if they play every night, but no one's making it big here.
Underneath it all, Minneapolis feels very Gen X. Its fashion sense is decidedly shabby; its mood apathetic. No one cares what anyone else does.
Underneath it all, Minneapolis feels very Gen X. Its fashion sense is decidedly shabby; its mood apathetic. No one cares what anyone else does. "What do you do?" isn't a normal question in Minneapolis.
The benefit of this is that you can do whatever you want here. The drawback, of course, is that nothing you do will be praised, or even noticed. It's an arrangement that works great for me, but not everyone finds it to their liking.
These things make for a strange social landscape. Particularly when winter comes and everyone spends months watching Netflix instead of talking to each other. As apathetic as Minneapolis residents tend to be, we are also reflexively polite. Kind, even. The older I get, the more I feel like that counts for something.
PETER FORSCHER
Image and text by Stu Spence
Sydney
It was inevitable, these things often are, aren’t they? Who knows how they start, or when; how the thought starts, how it grows. It is of no importance, really. The point is, we make the idea, and we either keep or delete it.
Peter seemed decent enough, hard worker, yes, but still a groveler; they all are in one way or another, especially his type. That expression of his, what was it? Something about tough getting going. The English language is so...dull, so predictable. He would often bring out this tawdry scrap of pop philosophy when I was within earshot. So earnest, so transparent. I am not sure why the word comes to me, but he always struck me as ‘overblown’.
Yes, that’s the word, overblown. Too ambitious for such a tiny mind. He was a plough horse believing itself a Derby winner.
Yes, that’s the word, overblown. Too ambitious for such a tiny mind. He was a plough horse believing itself a Derby winner. At his initial interview, when I asked why he desired to work at the firm, he said, “Because your history, sir, cannot be ignored.” My history? Shrabel said he meant my age, as if getting to my age warrants some kind of special attention, especially from the weak and greedy. I could tell Zoe was enamored with him from the start. These things are easier to intuit as one becomes older, aren’t they? Him with his casual boat shoes and that embarrassing hat. So gauche. Canapés by the pool does not call for fancy dress, anyone with culture knows this.
Alas, Peter Forcsher clearly had none, and thus ignored the convention. Unwise. Shrabel said he had been some kind of pinup boy in a pop group once, which did not surprise me. My mother would have called him common. “Oooh, I love your hat! I love your hat!” Zoe squawked when they met, as if she’d never seen a hat before. Linklaetter and Hiroshumi had me cornered under the cabana, insisting I care about their deals. It is precisely why I ask Shrabel not to invite these people to my parties, but I allowed him to talk me into it.
Most times I do not pay attention to these desperate pleas in public, simply nod vaguely. This day, was no different. I paid attention to Zoe, though, loving his hat in the midday sun. That sounds so cliché, doesn’t it? Like a line from some tawdry love song one must endure in a taxiing aeroplane. But there she was, right in front of me, being drawn in, gradually, like the tide. At that precise moment I remember catching a glimpse of myself in the bar mirror. I had no recognition at first, in that fleeting moment. I thought it was an old man. It was me, though. The blazer, the white hair carefully combed from the side, the deep lines around the eyes and mouth. No brown skin can ever disguise these lines, as every second person on the Med will testify.
I left my party straight after lunch and climbed the stone stairs to the house. The mariachi band had started and guests were now dancing beside the pool in the hard sun. She never left his orbit, magnetized there in space, helpless. This was all too clear as I looked back down from the top of the stairs. There they were, laughing, intent, laughing etc. The desperation of youth. If it wasn’t so tragic it would be funny, wouldn’t it? He glanced up at me, just for a second, and as he did I saw his exact thought. ‘I should wave, but if I do it will attract him to the fact that I am flirting with his beautiful young wife. So, I will pretend I do not see him.’ As I say, sadly, almost comically transparent.
Maybe this was the moment when the first of the ideas arrived. Then more, one after the other, like a procession. King Carl Gustaf of Sweeden has his summer palace by the lake in Tullgarn, adorable structure, sheer dream. He likes to entertain on one of the higher balconies, and to get to it one is led through a series of large, ornate doors, perhaps a dozen of them. His doormen open each and they are slammed behind as one passes through. One after the other.
The Zoe plan happened exactly like this. One thought building onto the last, as I moved from one room to the next room, and the next. Was it pre-meditated? Does one plan to breathe? No. It was simply momentum, in and of itself. As I entered our bedroom and I slipped off my shoes, placing them in the wardrobe, a great weariness began to take hold. That was when the next idea happened, perhaps. I glimpsed the oak rifle case at the far back corner of the top shelf. Just a tiny edge of that fine box. I stood and stared. “Because your history, sir, cannot be ignored.” I lay down with the sound of a cruise ship blowing its horn in the far distance, and my wife’s cackle rising above the din just below. I closed my eyes.
When I woke the sun had almost dipped behind the hills of Paros, and the inside of our bedroom had turned a soft pink. I arose, my mind fresher, my body strangely sharp. As I moved around the room, I had a clear memory of camping trips with my brother Werner and his friends, arising from our tent in the morning after long nights of beer and schnapps, and literally shaking the painful muzziness away, like hay from a pullover. I would be whole and sharp and fresh again in one brisk movement. “Spielen Sie ein weitres!” I heard my chief accountant scream from below. The stupid band dutifully started up again, and as I slid the barrel between the wooden louvers, I could see the group from Osaka erupt into some kind of comical dance. Zoe and her lap dog remained locked in their obscene orbit at the edge of the swimming pool. Blood boiled in my face, but again, my mind was strangely clear, hands steady. But then the choice had to be made, didn’t it? Which door to enter next? Him or her? Both, perhaps?
Then the repercussions began to pull my focus, the legalities, the press, the firm etc. etc. Resolve began to seep away, but only for a moment. “Oh do not tell me that!” My child bride screamed out from below, slicing through the surrounding din, and suddenly I was back on track, another room in the King’s palace entered, the door slammed behind. I rearranged my grip on the smooth varnished stock and checked the pressure of my forefinger on the trigger, which was now warm. I felt the recoil through my whole body, like I’d been lifted a metre off the ground by an invisible hand and dropped. Or perhaps like diving into Como in the chilly early summer.
Shrabel collected me at 7.30 the next morning as usual. “Good morning sir, I hope this morning finds you well?” The same greeting every day. Tiresome.
“Fine. Thank you.”
“I trust the party was to your liking? The guests seemed to enjoy themselves, and your wife was in excel...”
“Yes, it seemed to be a success.” No more was said. In the dream, Zoe wore no underwear, even more humiliating as the flimsy dress floated all around her...whilst Forcsher looked on from above, smiling. I watched the road posts speed by, defocusing and allowing them to blur, the hills of Paros all the while remaining a sharp backdrop across the sea.
Why had the dream prevented the kill? To shoot the stone swimming pool edging from under her feet was weak. Her sudden plummet into the blue was amusing, yes, and somewhat satisfying as the guests roared with laughter,. But it bothered me that my unconscious could not finish off what my conscious had so clearly demanded. He smiled down on her like a patient parent, tolerant of their child’s silly mishap. Smug ownership, that was it.
“It is time to let Forcsher go. He is under performing. Please arrange this.”
Songwen Sun-von Berg, Formung und Fügung #56, 2022, Öl und Tusche auf Papier, 78x68 cm Handyfoto
Artist in Focus: Songwen Sun-von Berg
by Dirk Lehr
When I met Chinese-born and Berlin-based artist Songwen Sun-von Berg in her studio, there was a book about Louise Bourgeois on her table. “I am impressed by her courage and willingness to experiment, Songwen Sun-von Berg explained to me.” Bourgois is considered one of the main figures of the so-called female artists. I asked her whether she wanted to be called a female artist, which is often taken as a label today. I” don’t like such classifications at all, she replied. It’s about art and not about finding out whether you can recognize masculine or feminine traits in a work. It’s also not about a feminist statement.”
“Of course, origin influences. But that doesn’t necessarily mean you carry them in front of you and color everything with them…”
She also no longer wants to hear the almost stereotypical question as to whether her Chinese roots are formative for her work. “Of course, origin influences. But that doesn’t necessarily mean you carry them in front of you and color everything with them. Curiosity and openness drive me, that’s my fuel,” says Songwen Sun-von Berg. “I observe our environment. As if through a telescope or microscope, I look at things and objects that come my way. With my eyes I pick up structures in our environment.”
Songwen Sun-von Berg, Wide open 6 (rolling stones), 2014, Tusche auf Papier, 138 x 69 cm
As a matter of fact, her drawings are landscape poetry. Structures reminiscent of the skeleton of leaves or patterns or signs of weathering from roads or in their entirety of a starry sky or rock. Chaos and order are kept in balance through form and structure. What comes along almost like a rhythm, nothing is accidental. Each circle has its place and function. Nevertheless, her works convey lightness, seem powerful but still fragile.
According to Songwen Sun-von Berg, her artistic language is universal. She wants to combine abstraction and concreteness. Transparency in her drawings is also important. Structures need space, light. “For this reason, the white background has an important function. He is part of the pictorial narrative. Sometimes more can be said by omitting than by adding.
Drawing is a meditative matter for the artist. This also applies to the viewer. One can actually get mentally lost in her drawings. It is the hypnotic calm with which they capture the viewer and win them over.
