This interactive video was shot on the 101st anniversary of Bloomsday, the fictional day documented in James Joyce’s Ulysses. The piece is a tryptich of randomly combined clips of Mary Beth Canty, a musician who was living in Quebec City around the corner from where I was doing a residency at La Chambre Blanche that summer as well as excepts from page 101 of Ulysses.
(Source: Author's website)
Comme son titre l'indique, Ulysses 101 est une adaptation transmédiatique du roman de James Joyce publié en 1922, et dont les événements relatés se déroulent le 16 juin 1904, soit 101 ans avant la mise en ligne de l'oeuvre hypermédiatique. Sur un fond blanc, trois fenêtres carrées sont juxtaposées horizontalement afin de constituer un bandeau. Un nombre est attribué à chacune des fenêtres, la première est identifiée par « one », la seconde par « zero » et la dernière à nouveau par « one », transformant ainsi l’écart initialement noté (101) en nombre binaire (101, c’est-à-dire 5). Ces fenêtres renferment deux types de contenu, soit de courtes séquences filmées et des extraits de texte disposés adroitement. Le triptyque qu’elles constituent est aléatoire. Les séquences filmées offrent tour à tour des images d’une femme interviewée dans un café, d’une chaise berçante juchée sur un meuble en bois, d’un homme attablé dans un café et dessinant sur les pages d’un cahier, d’une porte couverte de graffitis qui s’ouvre en grinçant, de gens marchant la nuit dans les rues de Québec, d’une femme jouant de l’accordéon dans un local, etc. Les segments de texte affichés pourraient provenir de n’importe lequel des 18 épisodes du roman; ce sont des citations sans véritable signification sauf celle, première et essentielle, d’indiquer explicitement la présence du roman de Joyce. Ce sont ses mots, ses phrases qui sont ici agencées pour créer un matériau visuel complémentaire des séquences filmées, dans un système de permutations qui fait se côtoyer des textes séparés par plus d’un siècle.
(Source: NT2)
Author note: Ulysses 101 was created as part of a residency at La Chambre Blanche in Quebec City in 2005. Filming with Mary-Beth Carty and Jennifer Banks took place on June 16, 2005. Programming: Chris Mendis
DESCRIPTION FROM CRITICAL COMMONS: The materialization of text in an urban landscape is nowhere more in evidence than in French designer Antoine Bardou-Jacquet's video for Alex Gopher's The Child. Bardou-Jacquet's all-textual rendering of New York city borrows its basic concept from Jeffrey Shaw's Legible City project from the late 1980s, while stripping narrative volition away from the viewer. Whereas Shaw's project allows reader-users to simulate moving through geographically and architecturally correct streets of Amsterdam, Manhattan, or Karlsruhe on a stationary bicycle while reading the text of a story mapped onto buildings in the city, The Child delivers a high-speed chase through the streets of New York City with both landmarks and people rendered as all text. The tension that exists in these works hinges on the conflict between real and constructed environments, as well as the insistent interplay of surface and depth.
Alex Gopher: music. Antoine Bardou-Jacquet: design and vision.
Description from Marie-Laure Ryan's article "Cyberspace, Cybertexts, Cybermaps":
A Director program created by the digital artist Mary Flanagan. [Phage] browses the hard drive of the computer, collecting bits and pieces of data, and throwing them back at the user (or should one say throwing them up ?) as a collection of decontextualized fragments that blow, rotate, and swirl on the screen like pieces of trash on a windy day at the dump
Discussion of artist's own work, with contextualisation. Originally written in 1995.
A delicate and silent animation. It suggests an inebriate mental state in which foreground and background blend in almost undifferentiated fashion. The poem articulates the fleeting apparitions of the words from within themselves, as if one word would write another. Words will momentarily manifest themselves in unexpected areas on the screen, often bordering the very edge. The piece communicates as much through the verbal apparitions as it does through their carefully orchestrated evanescence.
(Source: Author's Description)
Minitel animated poem shown online in the group exhibition Brazil High-Tech (1986), a minitel art gallery organized by Eduardo Kac and Flavio Ferraz and presented by Companhia Telefônica de São Paulo. Letters forming the word "caos" (chaos, in Portuguese) ricochet off the edge of the screen to simultaneously form the open-ended hourglass outline and the infinity symbol. As they zigzag, the letters overlap suggesting new meanings.
In the contemporary world of art where everything has been said and done, where post-modernism is being replaced by alter-modernism and even digital art is turning into post-digital, any fresh new genre must have a warm welcome! Such a genre: the film-poem, emerging from the crossroads of literature, film and animation is the main focus of the digital monograph on Katarzyna Giełżyńska's poetry collection C()n Du It. Independent Polish editors and critics take a closer look at the film-poems and analyze them from the perspectives of animated text, cyberpoetry, moving image and visual poetry. Through these critical lenses Giełżyńska's objects appear as ironic, personal, cross-medial statements. The Polish author sets herselfan ambitious task: "to play at the world's own game" by describing it in a fast-paced, polimedial, synesthetic way. Resembling "animated posters", the film-poems reflect the condition of the contemporary artist and her cultural, linguistic and technological context and try to redefine the answers to the old question: how to describe the world? who is the author? what is the difference between the human and non-human? The message carried by the film-poems is quite universal, if not global, hence the decision of the editors, Piotr Marecki and Mariusz Pisarski, to publish the critical companion in English, premiere it in Prague (where the author lives and works) and distribute it freely over the internet.
The book is downloadable for free from ha!art linked to this record
Source: blurb to the book
Taką gatunkową nowalijką jest wierszo-film, forma powstała na skrzyżowaniu literatury, filmu i animacji, która została spopularyzowana latem 2012 r. przez Katarzynę Giełżyńską w jej wideotomiku C()n Du It. Nowemu gatunkowi, jego autorce i wielu estetycznym kontekstom, które publikacja ta zakreśla, poświęcony jest cyfrowy chapbook The World in Hyper(de)Scription: On the Film-poems of Katarzyna Giełżyńska, pod redakcją Mariusza Pisarskiego i Piotr Mareckiego. W tej anglojęzycznej, darmowej publikacji, dostępnej w najpopularniejszych formatach cyfrowych, o polimedialnych klipach poetyckich Giełżyńskiej wypowiadają się polscy badacze i krytycy, przyglądając się im pod kątem tekstowej animacji, poezji wizualnej, cyberpoezji i filmu.
Flash poem about media and society in the post-9/11 era.
Part of his “Words in Space” series, this poem uses VRML to position two dimensional words in different three dimensional rotational axes and provides a minimalist interface for the reader to switch between two types of rotation or movement, signaling the change with an audible click.
The spiraling of the words around a central axis and around each other mimic the speaker’s thought process as he obsesses over what seems to have been a traumatic incident. If we extend the idea of word rotation to its static title, we could read it as “walkdont,” as “dontwalk,” or over time as “walkdontwalkdontwalkdontwalkdont” an idea reinforced by the use of color in three key words and phrases punctuated by the blue “Who knew?”
Source: Leonardo Flores, I ♥ E-Poetry.
