work 5
Switchboard Operation, by Qohtaiwoo (China), 2002
THE ELUSIVE NOW
When consulting Chinese artist Qohtaiwoo's work, one cannot but be stunned by the void of his home page.
A scored rectangle, split in two by a median line, appears on a grey background - a tennis court comes to mind. On the right of this rectangle appears a single word "Description". Clearly, this is where the description of the work can be found, while on the left, the title, Switchboard, tells you where to click to discover the content.
The purity of this device, with the text on one side, the artwork on the left, appear to be volleying back and forth, could easily be taken as the paradigm of Net-Art as it has been known for the past fifteen years.
It rarely gives itself up to the reader or visitor without its accompanying text labelled "About" or "Description" or "Information". What is particular about net-art versus other contemporary plastic artworks is that it must be (must it really be?) accompanied, as if by its parents, by the text that not only explains how it works, but provides its foundation, while at times providing an expert reference, and at other times attempting to offer a general theoretical model based on a very platonician diagram. Clearly, the expert here is Tim Berners-Lee, presented as the father of the Internet, which is very significant indeed. The other selected expert, albeit one who is not clearly stated, is Walter Benjamin, who is quoted rather cryptically, for his text on art reproducibility1.
Being structured in this manner, the artwork is very well supported. Now, let us examine the explanatory text further, as it begins to describe the artwork itself. "Here there are archives to listen to, not to look at", then it quickly moves on to more general considerations, that are familiar to every art student in the world.
As we realize at the very outset, the work itself consists in listening to audio files - almost simply that - listening to audio files
To listen, you must lick on the horizontal lines that will appear as you slide the mouse on the surface of the screen. As the file scrolls down, the bar slowly disappears as does the accompanying sound.
Had we not read the "Description" file, what would we have understood? That is a question that may be asked in reference to a great deal of net-art. In this case, had we not read the accompanying text, we would have clicked and heard bits of sound, conversations and background noises the quality of which, as art work, may have be open to debate.
By reading and understanding the text file one can appreciate that the author wants to place us in the situation of telephone operators who, at the very beginning of this medium, could listen to all conversations, as they were required to manually establish communication among callers. For us, this places Qohtaiwoo's work among communicational or relational works, as per Nicolas Bourriaud's use of the terminology2. We understand that clicking on the line and listening to an audio file places us in the position of network switchers, and reminds us of the Matrix operators who allowed the heroes to transit.
Intellectually if we are to be content at understanding the message Qohtaiwoo seeks to convey, we can also wonder what his artwork tells us. When, how and why does it succeed in moving away from the author's intention, and in becoming itself an art form?
Each time we click on a line, we are again aware that we have understood and eventually, the pleasure of having understood returns. But is there something else beyond that? If a work of art is simply the illustration of its programmed will, if a work of art simply establishes the link between intention and perception, is there not something missing?
Would this thing be the "surprise" or for example, the accident? Is this something that happens in narratives? This work tells a story, although it is not a narrative. The story unfolds between the artwork and me and as all stories it draws its storyline between predictable and surprising events, even revelations; consequently this work becomes mine, it must exist because otherwise we simply would have cohabited a few seconds, a few minutes. The telling of an art work lies in the link created between it and me.
Would this dichotomy between the explanatory text and the work not be the downside of many net-art works, based on that pavlovian satisfaction of the spectator whose pleasure stems from having understood the author's intention?
The question remains, and it is clearly somewhat provocative. But it must be asked.
The objective is not to put this, or any other artwork on trial, but rather to try to understand how net-art functions, and why not try to understand what it says about the world in which we live.
Switchboard Operation emphasizes, in an amusing manner, the most neglected aspects of net-art, i.e. sound. Used here as a element in its own right, sound, sounds are a part of our environment, like the furniture in our homes, the paintings on our walls, the books in our bookshelves. Communication technologies, from the telephone to the Internet, have made them omnipresent in our remote communication strategies - to the point of saturation. The main quality of a work like that of Qohtaiwoo is that it makes us taware of it.
Net-art mirrors the modern world, one that is woven together by communicational technologies. Their main challenge will be to show us the very elusive now, the elusive moment in which we are immersed, like a body being carried away by a swelling river. At times however, we are pleased when art does more than simply represent - when we feel totally encompassed, when it takes over our being and convinces us that regardless of the current, we remain free.
Notes
1 : Walter Benjamin, "The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction", 1935.
online 
2 : Nicolas Bourriaud, Esthétique relationnelle, Presses du réel, 1998.
Xavier Malbreil
(Translated from French by Renée Brisson)
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