The discovery of the brain area where dreams are generated is relatively recent, it is located exactly above the nape and is called the "hot zone". Hot Zone is a visual project that documents the unfolding of a lucid dream, placing the viewer in the balance between fiction and reality, in which photography becomes the proof of its existence.
I started this new work at a complicated time in my life, at the end of 2019; I was suffering from insomnia and I was very anxious about the future, the fate of human beings and the environment, seriously compromised. Dreams began to merge with reality, becoming images: from that moment my obsession was to reproduce what I saw during my sleeping hours, noting details and trying to recreate them visually. The images present on a subconscious layer are transformed into a visual journey in which visions, flashbacks and hallucinations connect, giving rise to new space-time dimensions and psychedelic worlds.
The relationship between landscape and nature is complex: real places have been altered through digital painting interventions and seem to come from alien planets, taking on unusual colours and become a mirror of human tension towards the future of the Earth.
Beauty hides restlessness: "I had a dream, which was not all a dream" (L. Byron). Hot Zone becomes a real dimension, bringing back to life what is usually destined to be lost after each awakening. The contribution of artificial intelligence can help overcome the human limit of memory. Within the project, there are images of documentation (square format) produced by a neural network I programmed.
Reconfiguring a "Thing" Like You and Me
I am interested in questioning approaches towards photography, wether that's through presentation, how an image is constructed, or re-photography. I believe that for the medium to continue on, it needs to push ways of looking at and considering images; how they function in the 21st century.
These works ask if formal roles of photographs, as things that are still displayed in rigid ways, are really working. Using the "Materiality" and "Object-ness" of photographs, its structure, to turn it into something new; outside of these constraints, asks even more impactful questions. In constructing physically and digitally, it obscures the overall truth of the image and focuses the viewer on specific parts. The objects “dailyness” within the photos also play a large role. By using what’s merely around me, familiar, I’m not only touching on topics of place/home/memory, but obscuring it. This also ties into a viewers interpretation of my works, their personal takeaway from it. Did a flower set remind them of shopping with their parents, or decorating? Does a stack of unbalanced plates bring about anxieties? Its these personal answers that I seek to mine from the viewer, in order to generate new meanings and contextualize my work within the broader domain of the medium. It’s also being curious about how something will look, the “phenomenology” of an image; taken out of its original context as either something else, or itself. As opposed to some overarching grand meaning.
Humor and hints of personal memories also play roles (with titles/objects). One could say I'm trying to "reinvent the wheel", but all I'm asking is why not multiple views of the same wheel? is there even a "wheel" in the first place?
Clouds revealed, in dialogue with the photographic medium
I have a dialogue, playful interaction with the photographic medium in my projects, allowing happy accidents and technical imperfection. What is photography and what could be hidden inside the image during the making? Is unseen information captured and if so, how can I reveal it?
Tactility, structure, contrast, the transition from one medium to another, the aspect of time, and the in-between that is inextricably linked to photography are points of focus. I take photos of clouds in keeping with the tradition of the Dutch masters, famous for dramatic paintings with heavy clouds which we call "Dutch Mountains" hanging above a low horizon with "typically Dutch light." Clouds are fascinating. They have a romantic, dreamy appearance but can also be terrifying and threatening. Clouds are indefinite, do not have a specified location, and are constantly flux.
The work aims to draw attention to the changing clouds because they might be threatened with extinction. Clouds play an important but also a fairly unknown role in the climate discussion. Clouds help with the absorption of harmful greenhouse gases and are and are therefore hugely important in regulating the temperature on earth. However, since the start of the industrial revolution, clouds can also be artificially created. In 1890 the first cloudatlas was printed with the classification system for clouds. It contained 6 Genera. The Newest Cloud atlas from 2017 contains 10 Genera of clouds. Six of them may have arisen as a result of human activity. Examples are airplane condensation or clouds as a result of industrial processes. Computer simulations show that at a very high concentration of CO2, the clouds may completely disintegrate and disappear. With the data from the lock-down during the pandemic, predictions can be tested against reality, for the first time.
Weakly Interacting Massive Particle
Five percent of the universe is observable, the rest is considered ‘dark’, a kind of matter and energy unable to interact with our world and even light itself. Astronomers and cosmologists know it is there, dark particles passing through us and our atmosphere at every moment, but how do we begin to evidence it? This endeavour requires researchers to be imaginative and creative, qualities not commonly associated with science-based practice.
‘Weakly Interacting Massive Particle’ explores the realm of theoretical science, harnessing its speculative nature to produce a project in search of dark matter. By using the photographic medium, ‘WIMP’ intends to find evidence of the elusive matter through a series of photographic tests and experiments.
The approach to the image-making process could be likened to that of a scientist, conducting experiments, postulating theories, and compiling evidence in an effort to present photographic data of dark matter. ‘WIMP’ employs various formats of experimental image-making to create a kaleidoscopic photographic account of dark matter. Images of natural landscapes, scientific apparatus, light experiments, solarised microscopic substances, crystallised salt prints and celestial bodies all represent the fabric of the universe. The moving image work contains visual cues that interpret the presence of dark matter passing through our atmosphere. A black canvas slowly brightens to expose objects emanating light and shadow, the image begins to pulse and passes through its life cycle eventually exposing to a white screen.
‘WIMP’ encourages the viewer to ponder the fact that dark matter is passing through our universe at every moment, with this in mind, is there a chance it has been captured in one of these images?
My work is concerned with the possibility of making time, and more recently light, a concrete object through photography; and from there, an exploration of what these materials can be used to build.
Time and photography have a very particular relationship: it is in general one of the most precisely controlled aspect of producing photographs, and through this, photography produces artefacts of very specific fractions of time. My initial interest was in how these fractions might be represented within photography, initially through work in series depicting change. This research developed as I solved a technique to layer these fractions of time precisely on top of one-another, creating negatives where fractions of time become visible as independent structures within the image.
My approach then was to use these fractured moments as building blocks for structures which exist within the negative. I became interested in the variety of approaches to working with time as a definite and defined quantity in different fields, particular the sciences. One area of particular interest was in statistical analysis - specifically, statistics. One particular technique of this theory is the function of a Kalman filter, a methodology which allows precise results to be discerned from imprecise data. I began building models based on this theory, as it seemed to me a potent metaphor for my own mental state and approach to most knowledge in the world. It was at this time that I realised that the structures I was building were, to a certain extent, self-portraits of my state of mind at the time of composing the images: the whole idea of how I would like the image to look existed within my imagination, but with no hard edges, the overall shape only being apparent upon completion; eventually, this approach to using science as the basis for creative metaphor became highly potent for me, the resonant moments depicted by my structures a clear representation of my own existence and consciousness.
Just as Prometheus bestowed fire upon humanity, knowledge grows with every achievement scientists bring forth. As titans of the new age, they wield wisdom and power. With rapid developments in quantum computing, various implications for the future arise. Among those are benefits and uncertainties. However, these are only known to a select few. Therefore, alienation thrives between those who seek answers and the individuals that fail to comprehend their questions. Our world continues to be driven to a state in which science blurs the boundaries of reality.
In his photographic series 'pandoras algorithm', Moses Omeogo explores the developments and implications of quantum computing. By using a selection of staged, documentary and still life pictures he exposes various intertwining narratives of science, simulation and hidden power structures.
Error In Ypsilon
‘Error in Ypsilon’ is based on the undefined exploration between physical flesh distortions and its -environments. In these metamorphosic transformation a confusion is being approached in a reconstructed docu-fictional form to visualize the invisible side effects that been caused by it. Gathering research material from past events and todays- to raise the question on how these certain setbacks could reoccur.
After the industrial disaster of the nuclear plant in Chernobyl, 1986, people started to reconstruct their environment after finding out what these effects causes by the radiation, people who started to suffer from serious diseases and children who were born with distortions, these side effects can last from 24- to 50 thousand years. Being born with schisis and intrigued to form an image of how it would have looked like in other circumstances, gave the possibilities for crafting prostheses as new distortions with changes in physical, mental, environmental and commodities affected by the invisible.
Transcendent Country of the Mind
Transcendent Country of the Mind is a project exploring my encounters with alternative dimensions of reality and perceptions of otherworldly signs around us. It tells the story of a world that lives at the back of our minds.
In my early twenties, I experimented with LSD regularly and excessively, and eventually experienced an extended psychotic episode, which had serious consequences on my own life, but also profoundly changed the way I perceive the world and reality itself. During this time, I abandoned all my worldly possessions; I confronted the demons of Hell and was shown the wonders of Heaven; I travelled through time and space; I peeked behind the curtain of this dimension and - even today, having fully recovered - my understanding of reality has changed forever. These photographs represent this perspective and offer others similar glimpses to what I found behind the curtain.
Making this project years after the psychosis, turned out to be extremely valuable for my mental health. When I started this project - a year and a half ago - I only wanted to share my way of perceiving the world, as I felt like I had gained a new way of seeing due to the psychosis. However, as the project continued I understood it was more than that: it was a way for me to let go of this traumatic yet eye-opening experience. I had to go back to that strange world at the back of my mind, to be able to let go. Now that the project is finished, I feel free: The incident does not define me as a person anymore.
Something Where There Should Be Nothing: Nothing Where There Should Be Something
‘Something Where there Should Be Nothing: Nothing Where There Should Be Something’ is a multifaceted body of work that weaves a phantasmal narrative through the forging of images, past and present.
The project utilises familial archives, decontextualised symbols and the contemporary image to create a disjointed, fictional tale and to point to a paradox between our apparent contrived reality and another that is beyond standard perception. Thus, the work resists the expectation for a certain kind of real that is associated with the photographic and instead leaves us with a ‘kernel’... a meaning that we sense but cannot write sensibly. As a result, ‘Something Where There Should Be Nothing: Nothing Where There Should Be Something’ is, at its core, an exploration. I see it as the start of a larger book (a chapter 1 if you will) that investigates the notion of the eerie and displays the human experience as one that is enmeshed in mythic structures.
Has the pursuit of profit bred an invisible beast beyond our comprehension? As we increasingly welcome it with open hands, it seems to have taken root in our lives and minds. Scrolling through an infinite newsfeed or passively waiting for the next suggested video to begin, this parasitic being observes its host from behind the screen. It presents to us an artificial world reflecting our deepest fears and most eccentric desires, but the more we consume, the more it consumes us.
Parasite is an investigation into our growing relationship with technology and its controlling, all-consuming nature. As we increasingly consume information through screens, the boundaries between fact and fiction are becoming ever more distorted. Our perceptions of the real are clouded by the artificial, as we accept the apparent reality selected for us by a series of hidden algorithms.
Are we entirely free in our thoughts and decisions, or are we being influenced by something kept hidden? This body of work seeks to spark a sense of foreboding and unease, by exploring beneath the familiar polished surface of technology’s instant gratification.
“Is our fundamental right to freedom of expression being threatened?” With this question in mind, Marcel Top starts to investigate mass surveillance in the United States.
Sara Hodges addresses the artist’s concerns over the safety of democracy in surveilled societies. With his project ‘Sara Hodges’, Top questions the current use of these technologies, finally exposing the possible threat they represent. Sara Hodges is a non-existing, algorithm-generated, American citizen. To create this online fake persona, Top started by gathering over 50’000 Instagram posts that used the hashtag #iloveamerica (I love America). Starting from these posts Top was able to generate new non-existing pictures through machine learning.The online presence of Sara Hodges reflects the online presence of other ordinary people, who in the sight of surveillance technologies, represent the perfect American citizens After the online presence was built, Top brought Sara Hodges into the real world.
He created a 3D model of the face, that with the use of silicon and a 3D printer could be turned into a mask that everyone could own. By bringing this fictive perfect citizen ‘alive’, Top hopes to create a tool for people to claim and exercise their fundamental right of expression, without the fear of being identified and tracked online. In fact, when wearing the mask, facial recognition technologies would redirect law enforcement on the social media profile of this apparently perfect citizen. This said, deceiving mass tracking technologies is not the only purpose behind Sara Hodges’ online presence. Sara Hodges is the average product of many people that are clean in the eyes of surveillance. Therefore, her online presence is also a warning. The symbol of a society that leaves no space to those whose opinion is not compatible with the government’s one.
How To Do Nothing
How To Do Nothing plays with the dichotomy of labour and stillness where the concurrent anxiety derived by the necessity of producing in late capitalism is contrasted by the quietness and uselessness of resting objects and structures. The camera is used as an observational and conscious tool that favours the disruption of the production cycle and of the worker's alienation, both vital to capitalism itself. Existing at the intersection between post-capitalist theory and Albert Camus' definition of the absurd, the work lingers on the essentiality of labour for human purpose; as Sisyphus repetitively rolls his rock up the mountain only to have it roll back down to the bottom, he acknowledges that there is nothing more to life than the task at hand and he finally finds solace in the same act he was eternally condemned to perform. How To Do Nothing stems from the possibility of doing in non-capitalist terms through stillness, reflection and, concurrently, agency.
Prototype is a photographic investigation based on rethinking the fundamental concepts and principles in photography.
In Prototype, the idea is to exceed the traditional concepts of light and reveal its intangibility. A new form of digital image not only measures light in relation to colors but also emphasizes a kind of separation. Light, as the most important element in any photographic process, diminishes its role in the final stage, so it is no longer recognizable at the first glance. Light emphasizes contours, and tries to persuade you that the camera is a prosthesis of human eyes, but it is actually not convincing. Based on the illusion of photography’s time-freeze action, it emphasizes a phenomenon of acceleration that is obliterating our experience of distances and dimensions.
I am attempting to explore the ambiguities in these predefined photographic rules, and using the visual language to interpret how the natural sensibility and detachment play parallel parts in images.
I Send Forth, I Promise
It was not so long ago, mere decades, that the idea of humans in space was a fiction of the imagination. Now the reality of humans reaching a second planet is a close reality. I Send Forth, I Promise is an on-going research project that is exploring the future-fiction of post-Earth inhabitation.
By coining the term and examining The Promittocene (a post-anthropocentric epoch), a new emblematic box is formed in which quasi-scientific and evidential images reside, inform and instruct new behaviours for a new interplanetary species. The beginning of a colony on Mars will mark the beginning of The Promittocene epoch, the era in which the human species is no longer a single planet organism. The Latin etymology of ‘Promitto’ is from where this project draws its title, but also shares linguistic similarities with Prometheus; the Titan of Greek Mythology that stole fire from the Gods and gave it to the human race. This flame that sparked the technological advancements of the human species will have to be struck again once a new colony is established on a second planet. How though, will this new planet accept us? Will it mold to our whim, succumb to terraforming becoming as palpable as the Mediterranean, and will chthonic fertility provide vast swathes of arable land?
By utilising a visual language that is shared with evidential photography, from images of botanical studies to engine rocket development, Wynne interplays these aesthetics, creating a series of breadcrumbs or loose ends that can be unthreaded and reconstructed to form a malleable reality. I Send Forth, I Promise leads us to question whether the images laid out before us are an unchangeable history in which the narrative acts as a fable, or whether that are predicting a prophecy yet to be foretold.