Toward exposing my aspirations while first making a mild disclaimer, I begin with three quotations as constellation:
Bill Viola: "Value
judgments are destructive to our proper business, which is curiosity
and
awareness".
E.M. de Melo e Castro:
"On the whole, a verbi-voco-sound-visual-color- movement
complex
and animated image is created calling for a total kinesthetic perception".
Butch Morris: "In
other words, constant preparation—preparation for the next, and the
next
for the next—for something
we did not hear and for something we have never heard".
Generally, I wish to consider
as integral what has happened mechanically and aesthetically in hypertext
[also known, through Espen Aarseth's research, as cybertext], rather than
focus criticism against it. The pressing matter now, from a creative
point of view, is interface design. Who controls the computer "switches",
and what is available within those switches, controls how we live and invent.
How we really want to absorb, manipulate and output materials are considerable
decisions we face at the present time.
"Terminals" of one form
or another will always abound: games, movies, news, the equivalent
of television programs and some type of VR (or interactive cyber-reality)
domains will be readily available in the coming years. Raising the
bar on software standards gives us an opportunity to progenerate our digital
possibilities (and status of culture) and the arts rather than stifle them.
It is imperative that a versatile integrated "system" is developed so that
complex content may be learned and delivered. One voice without sophisticated
programming abilities cannot in itself raise the standards on what we have
available to us at present, but hopefully a poetic viewpoint may provoke
further discussion and thinking within the subject.
Many conceptualizations
and theories surrounding hypertext are based on its cognitive and visual
attributes toward stimulating absorption and construction. New directions
for electronic text intensify their attention to the ear (sound) and to
hand-craft (to expand previous aesthetic aspects of visuality). Advancing
these dimensions will make forms of interactivity less like the passivity
of television and other mass-media, and perhaps less "artificial" than
what we have seen so far.
Soundtracks and what
I'd like to call hyper-sound (interlinked layers of sound) are basically
absent from much of digital literature. [Notable exceptions include:
GRAMMATRON, The Hootenany Manifestation, ubu web,
Shockzone, and work by Sally Harbison, Christine Baczewska, and
Loss Pequeno Glazier.] When present, they most often serve as ambient
backdrops, sound-bites, or direct recitation of a written work. An
energetic approach to these potentially interconnected materials is in
order.
Distinctions between
photographic representation and rendered by-hand or touch based imaging
also need further consideration. The folk-imagination and other practical
qualities (i.e. matrixed lyricism with social, spiritual, and cultural
relevance) of a text such as William Blake's Illuminated Books—etched
into copper plates by hand two hundred years ago—have yet to be matched
in the poesis of today's innovations. With our stylus pens
and hexidecimal systems we accept and enjoy completely different methods
and processes than Blake. Yet the possibilities for output are basically
the same, except that Blake had no way to electronically transmit his renderings.
To be clear, however, I am far less interested in imposing an aesthetic
than I am interested in, to borrow another phrase in Butch Morris' "Notes
on Conduction", "the creation of a medium that redefines itself and the
spirit of quality—a quality that radiates unique properties" (8).
A shift in hypertext's
priorities leads to a blending of emphases, old and new. "Cyberspace"
does and does not demand for the artist a radically new appearance of text.
Thus, today's condition of electronic texts, where most evidence of human
voice and hand are ostensibly absent, seems unusual; we seem to have advanced
and not advanced. Even if mind and machine create code, thus hypertext,
the artist also has the ear, the heart, the line, syllable, body and breath
to contend with in their representation. Defining "conduction", Morris
writes, "Using a vocabulary of signs and gestures, many within the general
glossary of traditional conducting, the conductor may alter or initiate
rhythm, melody, harmony, not to exclude the development of form/structure,
both extended and common, and the instantaneous change in articulation,
phrasing, and meter. Indefinite repeats of a phrase or measures may
now be at the discretion of the new Composer on the Podium" (10).
This model of conduction both historically echoes and serves up new metaphors
for hypertext. The position of the conductor may be placed on either
or both users and authors; the podium is the "terminal". Physical
gestures are used to activate different layers and arrangements and configurations
of textual elements.
Graphical and other design
elements enabled by the computer are indeed monumental. The age of
mechanical reproduction is going strong, but all of these considerations
do not preclude the loss of other aesthetic values: spoken or folk
elements, or the equal power of the hand to convey messages as do the mind
and eye. The beauty of it, and a primary motivation for me, is the
fact that pluralistic methodologies are available.
John Cayley
argues for silent reading as an important mode of resistance in hypertext
[see "Beyond Codexpace: Potentialities of Literary Cybertext" (Visible
Language 30.2) and "HYPERTEXT / CYBERTEXT / POETEXT" (online)], and
Michael Joyce uses the trope of silence as a counterpoint to noise (drawing
our attention to both) [see "So Much Time, so Little to Do", (Of Two
Minds: Hypertext Pedagogy and Poetics)], and I believe quietude
and machinated imagery do not maximize potentials of the computer.
In the non-monolithic ideal I just spoke of, this is perfectly acceptable:
interface and software parameters are still a primary concern to us all.
My background is in poetry,
print and electronic publishing, music, and literary criticism. Poetry
has always in effect "opened" into multitudes of "texts". That this
process, poetry's intrinsic opening into other texts, is facilitated by
the use of digital media only strengthens my confidence in synthesizing
the two forms, and using poetry (digital and otherwise) to envision what
systems might embody in the future. Variable layers of texts, soundings,
visualizations, and interpretations of text can be engaged by the reader
on the computer screen: interactive exploration of what is inside
a text, and what a text is inside of.
The Web synthesizes graphical
(color), animated, and sound elements in addition to what might be the
"written" text itself. What this means for poetry in terms of form
is relatively straightforward. Language—its principle vehicle—is
no longer lodged on a fixed, soundless page. As a result of this
other—computerized—language, it inhabits a flexible, dynamic, and transmittable
multiplex of circuitry which allows built-in links, intricate graphical
components, soundtracks, and other capabilities, such as various forms
of animation. The vividness of literary activity as it extends to
the present is charged with additional elements.
Changes in the media
we use for the transmission of poetic materials alters its appearance and
form, possibly rescuing it from becoming a redundancy in the coming industreality.
We all have the challenge of getting somewhere that we are not. The
best viewpoint I have come across with regards to imagining an ideal for
cyberspace is Ladislao
Pablo Györi's description of a "Virtual Poetry Domain".
In Visible Language 30.2, Gyori writes:
Joyce, Michael. Of Two Minds: Hypertext Pedagogy and
Poetics. Ann Arbor: University of
Michigan Press, 1995.
Kac, Eduardo, ed. Visible Language 30.2, New
Media Poetry: Poetic Innovation and New
Technologies.
Providence: Rhode Island School of Design, 1996.
Morris, Butch. Testament: A Conduction Collection. New York: New World Records, 1995.
Polynoise. Online.
Viola, Bill. Reasons for Knocking at an Empty House:
Writings 1973-1994. Cambridge: MIT
Press, 1995.