"A Second Synnoetic System"
a standalone real-time programmatic stereo-optic 3d animation
driven by a gaming engine. The animation consists of 20+
accurate models of DNA sequences, constructed from data downloaded
from the RCSB Protein Data Bank; an archive of experimentally-determined,
biological macromolecular 3-D structures from the Brookhaven National
Laboratory. A churning atmosphere is generated by randomly occuring
internet pings, which return seismic data, blog entries, protein
sequences, maps, and code that are transformed into veils and clouds
of dynamic data. The models of protein sequences endlessly load,
unload, combine, rotate, change color, transparency, and depth
according to coded randomizations, endlessly reconfiguring into
a hypnotic whirl.

During the exhibition DNA (Do Not Assume) at Bowling Green
State University in November of 2005, the piece was exhibited as a
stereo-optic rear projection on a 6 x 9 foot screen by 2 DLP projectors
with polarizing filters, driven by a single Windows PC with an internet
connection.

"A Synnoetic System"

"One’s mind and the earth are in a constant state of erosion, mental rivers
wear away abstract banks, brain waves undermine cliffs of thought,
ideas decompose into stones of unknowing, and conceptual crystallizations
break apart deposits of gritty reason … The earth’s surface and the figments
of the mind have a way of disintegrating into regions of art."
(Smithson 1974: 100)

In September 2003 I began developing an installation for exhibition at the Stubnietz Gallery at Adrian College in Michigan, USA. My goal was to create a prototype of a synnoetic system, and to begin to address some of the questions arising from this concept of synnoetics by seeking an understanding of the response of visitors to the gallery who interacted with the system. My initial plan was to create parallel modes of interaction with two primary fields of behaviour, the human, and the material earth. The installation design evolved to bring different ‘fields’ of information together with a variety of methods of interactivity, creating a multi-nodal recursive loop. (Figure 4) Projected onto a 1 x 2 metre bed of salt on the floor of the darkened gallery was a composite image of a male body foregrounding a geological map of the world. (Figure 5) The male body was derived from a three-dimensional laser scan of myself, and animated through motion-capture data; producing very slow movements suggestive of a dreaming or contemplative, preconscious state. The dark body skin was covered in fissures, craters, valleys, and embossed texts, reminding some visitors of a charred armour of language and tissue. Behind the figure a map of the world with numerous concentric rings pinpointed the history of recorded earthquakes, with live updates of seismic activity streaming into the gallery every twenty minutes. A large shadow inched slowly across the map representing the transition from night to day. Current earthquakes are depicted as animated red concentric rings, and past earthquakes are colour-coded according to date.
Richter-scale measures are represented by the size of the rings, and international time is given in the lower right corner of the map. The map is a representation of a global seismic monitoring system sponsored by the US Geological Society and collected from various sites and transmitted to IRIS servers by satellite. (Figure 6) A theremin hangs upside-down from the ceiling, positioned over the head of the projected figure, at about shoulder height. Participant proximity to the theremin controls the volume of pre-recorded, dual channel, remixed audio samples of actual earthquakes. A theremin uses the natural capacitance of the body to cause variations in the frequency of radio waves generated by the instrument. The recordings have been speeded-up to bring their pitch into the audible range. These extremely low-pitch, eerie, and oddly rhythmic rumbling sounds are silent unless interactors come into the range of the theremin. The interactors’ proximity to the theremin affects the volume of the earthquake sounds. A chair is positioned at the foot of the projection. Resting on the seat is a simple biofeedback interface that measures skin galvanization (moisture) in the palm, and generates an audio tone. The pitch of this audio tone, inaudible within the space, varies according to skin galvanization and controls the speed, positioning, and transparency of the body animation. The more moist the palm of the participant, the more restless the body becomes as the animation speeds up, the calmer the participant, the slower the body’s movements become. Prior to the installation in February 2004, I visited the gallery and met with the curator. I learned that the building, built in the 1850s, had served several functions: hospital, church, residence hall, and classroom building. The building was a stop on the underground railway prior to and during the US Civil War in the 1860s, and acted as a safe haven and pick-up/drop-off point for escaped slaves making their way north toward freedom. Like many such stops, this building is considered to be haunted by a number of ghosts, most notably a Confederate soldier who died in an accident while chasing a runaway slave. Knowledge of this anecdotal oral history added another potential ‘field’ to the synnoetic system, of at least anomalous, if not paranormal sentience. I began researching ways to potentially engage with the paranormal and bring its presence into the interactive loop. I found a number of possibilities in common use among ghost hunters, including magnetic resonance sensors, dousers, and verbal provocations. Ghost hunters often attempt to address the spirit world verbally, by directing spoken questions toward a specific ghost, and then letting audio recording devices run for several hours after the provocations. These individuals commonly report that responses from the spirit world that can be heard on tape are inaudible without electronic, specifically magnetic, equipment. I subsequently recorded several friends and family members speaking questions to this particular ghost, and played them constantly during the hours the gallery was open. Upon daily closings the gallery attendants turned off everything in the exhibition, and turned on audio recording equipment, which recorded each evening. The tapes were dated, and the reels were changed each morning. I have not yet completed my analysis of the tapes and have nothing to report at this point. In attempting to engage this particular spirit in this piece, my goal was not to prove or disprove the existence of ghosts; rather my goal was to create a context where participants must experience all these fields: the seismic, the kinesthetic, the biometric, and the anomolous, simultaneously.

"Crucible"
by Nanette Yannuzzi-Macias, Sarah Schuster and Gregory Little, 2004.

The theme of Dante's Divine Comedy, and the burnt- out, old parish house for the abandoned Romanian-Orthodox church at Gordon Square in Cleveland, inspired this collaboration between artists Nanette Yannuzzi-Macias, Sarah Schuster and Gregory Little. The installation, titled “ Crucible” is about Dante’s “Inferno” and the theme of transformation that is recurrent in this work. The artists are playing with the transformation of refuse into art, matter into spirit, hopelessness into hope, stasis into action. Viewers will look into the installation space through a broken window that reveals a huge gaping hole in the floor of the main room surrounded by charred walls burned to the brick from a fire that nearly gutted the old building. Everything used in the installation was found in the space. There were a pile of old wooden ladders that were left in the building that were missing rungs and rickety. They immediately inspired the feeling of hope and of despair. The artists chose to play with this by arranging them throughout the space in ways that create possibilities but do not serve any function. They hang from the ceiling or rise out of the cellar through the beams of the floor, and poke through the hole. They move up and down leading nowhere creating a sense of hope and of despair. Projected onto this canvas is a computer animation, made by Gregory Little, of three pieces of text taken from Dante's 'Inferno'. As the text twists and turns in the space it moves from being legible to fragmenting into specs of light that are reminiscent of the heavens. Two of the chosen texts are about transformation and the third says,

"The hottest spot in hell is reserved for those individuals, who in times of moral crisis, choose to remain neutral."

These simple elements have a resonance, for the artists, with the present political climate in which we are living.