In the introduction of her collaborative site with Sawad Brooks,
Beth Stryker explains, "DissemiNETion is designed to elaborate
a diaspora [my italics] on the web." Aptly described, the
term originally referred to the Diaspora, or scattering of the
Jews after Babylonian captivity and the sacking of Jerusalem by
the Romans; it has come to mean a dispersion or scattering of
any group of people. The site centers on the stories of individuals
who were driven from their homes and away from their family members
by those who expropriated control of the regions in which they
lived. Almost in response to the control exerted upon these people,
Stryker allows the viewer freedom in navigating through and interacting
with the site. This interactivity allows the viewer, in essence,
to dialogue with the piece (and there actually is a means for
contributing one's own testimonial), choosing the ways in which
s/he approaches, reads, and thereby understands, each story.
The Rules of the Game
When one first "enters" the
piece, it is through a non-assuming title page that includes a
centered representation of a web. This web begins with two threads
that quickly multiply into a maelstrom of tangled strands. The
deceptively simple motif almost acts as a warning of what is to
come, as well as a reminder of the interconnectivity that binds
all who navigate the Web and who navigate the globe. An "enter"
prompt, when selected, radiates hopefully before sending the viewer
inside. Once there, the prompts "stories," "themes,"
and "testimonial" are arranged, left of a centered,
vertical line, and stacked hierarchically, almost suggesting the
order in which each option is approached. The suggestion of the
grid is strong in this site, referencing the clockwork modernist
predilections toward art-making that have dominated the past century.
For some viewers, this grid may create a comfort zone; for others,
it may be a reminder of the power play that exists in the art
world as well as in the worlds from which these people's stories
emerge. Hayles (1992) cites Johnson in her explanation of the
body's orientation toward the vertical and the horizontal. She
describes the vertical stance as more conducive to mobility and
movement--a strong underlying theme within DissemiNETion.
The horizontal in this piece is in the
form of a pair of outlined frames--one containing an image--that
swing from left to right, depending upon the movement of the cursor.
This pendulum swing, along with a stopwatch display that ticks
away the seconds and minutes that pass as the viewer moves from
one position in the site to another (and also has a horizontally
moving orientation), serve as a reminder of the passage of real
time within the virtual time of the site itself.
The images within the piece are simulacra--"a copy of a copy
of the real" (Lovejoy, 1997, p. 160)--twice removed from
reality by first the photograph then the digitization of the image.
These include representations of grave markers decorated by (presumably)
loved ones, gray and turbulent seascapes, dry desert-scapes, crowded
street scenes, roads that disappear into wooded landscapes, and
bluish close-up images of a woman's face as she wipes her eyes.
They are disjointed from one another, in relativist fashion,
but are connected through the themes that arise from each of the
stories: flight, mother, remembrance, loss, etc.
Selecting the highlighted theme words
that appear throughout the stories allows the viewer to create
new meaning by grouping all statements (in all stories) that contain
the theme word. The statements are stacked, one on top of the
other, with the theme words aligned and highlighted in a red vertical.
The placement of the cursor determines the line that is horizontally
highlighted; the two create red axes, a cross.
Traditional and New Aesthetic Criteria in DissemiNETion
Traditional fine arts considerations
include the use of the grid, as mentioned earlier. The vertical
axis in the center serves, at first glance, to balance the page
composition symmetrically. Upon manipulation of the site, however,
other elements move (while the vertical axis remains the same),
creating a more asymmetrical balance that is subject to change
as the viewer works with the program. A rhythm and unity is created
through the use of geometric shape and mechanical line as well
as through the use of the text, which visually creates a sense
of tempo. Perhaps the most prevalent design principle in the
piece is movement--literal movement rather than just visual.
As the viewer manipulates the cursor, various elements in the
site--the images, the text, and the timer--move at various paces.
At first glance, the movement seems confused and frenetic; after
some time, though, it is easy to identify a pattern to the movement,
as if a weight on a string were let go and the resultant swing
allowed to run its course (unless stopped by the hand of the viewer).
The actual movement of the elements
in the site is among the new aesthetic criteria required for interactivity.
While actual movement has often been associated with sculpture--Calder's
mobiles come to mind--the tendency for the viewer may be to equate
the site with a two-dimensional work of art because of the screen.
Actual movement in this case would be a contra-standard quality
(Walton, 1970). The fact that it is the viewer's movements that
determine the movement of these elements within the piece further
separates the piece from traditional modes of art.
The use of different voices in the creation
of the piece is not a new idea, but allowing the viewer to include
his/her own testimony in the piece is a more innovative practice.
The reminder to the viewer that s/he is working within real time
(with the stop watch) as s/he experiences the virtual time in
which the events of the stories take place creates an odd juxtaposition
between one's own experiences and the experiences of these individuals
who have shared these narratives. This meshing of the temporal
and virtual, of the familiar and unpredictable lend the piece
and integral worldview; and while DissemiNETion possesses aspects
of the clockwork and relativist worldviews, these act almost as
reminders of these ideas rather than adherents to them. I believe
it is the integral worldview through which this piece actually
operates.
Blurring of Boundaries in DissemiNETion
The role of the viewer in creating the movement within the piece and through the empowerment of adding his/her own testimony to the work blurs the line between artist and audience in DissemiNETion. Stryker and Brooks have created the program and then left it to chance and cyberspace to finish, perhaps without any real ability to predict the outcome of the final product. Still, there is a relevance to the way in which the piece has been orchestrated and a unity in the function that it serves: the sharing of dispersion experiences, of loss, and of homelessness. (There is irony in the fact that many who currently face homeless situations may not have access to the tools necessary to participate in DissemiNETion; those who have experienced homelessness and have escaped it, though, may.) Lovejoy (1997) explains the phenomenon of interactivity:
Electronic nonsequential viewing has affected how art is produced and how it is accessed by the viewer. It calls for a new way of viewing based on visual icons or touching devices and time blocks. Electronic media promotes perspectives on aesthetic experience as well as on artistic production because it changes the experience of art-making and ultimately the nature of what is seen. (pp. 162-163)
This ability of the viewer to participate in the creation of the piece-an ever-evolving, fluctuating work-allows it to grow on the differences and similarities within the stories in that it presents these testimonials in two ways: first, as individual stories belonging to individual people and, then, by threading these stories together through similarities in themes and, thus, experiences.
The distinctive line between private and public is also blurred
through DissemiNETion. On the one hand, these story accounts
seem to be private sessions between interviewer and interviewee,
between therapist and client. The viewer may experience a sense
of voyeurism and feel almost as "the fly on the wall,"
sitting unobserved and "listening" to these accounts.
The paradox lies in the fact that these stories exist on the
Internet, public information for all to see; they are, in no way,
private. Even with this realization, though, comes a minute sense
of guilt, as if we as viewers have listened in on a conversation
that was meant only for the ears of the interviewer. The viewer's
passive role when reading these accounts may also heighten the
sense of sympathy (maybe, futility) and perhaps, as well, the
sense of recognition of loss in one's own life that may prompt
him/her to add to the piece. It is that realization that one
has a voice and a story to add that will create the sense of empowerment.
Representation in DissemiNETion
Stryker's representation as manifested through the integral worldview
is exhibited through the (at first glance) dichotomy between separation
and interconnectivity as well as through the apparent simplicity/complexity
of the piece. The elements and stories within the site seem,
at first, separated from one another by the use of the grid and
the hierarchy in which the stories have been placed. Only after
working with the site, manipulating it, and by noting the common
themes and patterns, which run through the stories and images,
does one see the connection between these elements.
The site, while seemingly simple at face value, is much more
complex as revealed through interactivity, and yet much more simple
than its variation would belie. For instance, when I first entered
the piece, I was taken more with the reading of the accounts than
with the movement of the elements in response to my cursor's movement
(which did not move for a great while because I was busy reading
the stories). After several minutes of reading, I began moving
the cursor and was alarmed by the ripple effect that it had on
the movement of the elements within the program. It seemed everything
was going at once and that I had lost control; I knew I should
be able to make it stop--I had started it, after all--but the
confusion was too much, and I left. On subsequent visits, though,
I realized the rhythm and pattern in place with the movements
and that the answer was not as complex as I had originally thought:
It wasn't a point of moving correctly to correct the movement
within the piece; I just didn't have to move at all. My actions--whether
I chose to move or chose not to--impacted the actions of the program:
a free life lesson as a by-product of an interactive program--when
we make a decision, even if that decision is not to make a decision--there
are implications that follow.