The Ubiquity of Technology in Art 

In 1984, French philosopher Jean-Francois Lyotard said “postmodern knowledge is not simply a tool of the authorities; it refines our sensitivity to differences and reinforces our ability to tolerate the incommensurable”.1 In 2019, the use of science and technology in art has surpassed our ability to measure its significance, undoubtably due to our inability to ‘see’ what we are even looking at. With the emergence and increasing development of information systems, artists today have evolved to utilize these advancements in technology, while simultaneously becoming more conceptual in their delivery. Using information systems as a point of departure, the use of data and the way it is visualized has been harnessed by artists such as Laura Poitras and Hito Steyrl as a means for political activism. Moreover, The Museum of Contemporary Art (MOCA) in Toronto currently displaying the exhibit The Age of You, includes 70 artists posing the question: who are we, if not just an amalgamation of data and information, for which we don’t understand? Information systems are border-lining something of a fetish in the art market. As access to data becomes more readily available, artists show not necessarily clearer ways of understanding the world they live in, but often more abstract and conceptual in nature – molding a style yet to be named, if even to be understood, where data represents the ultimate commodity 

1 Harrison, Charles, Paul Wood, and Jason Gaiger. Art in Theory: An Anthology of Changing Ideas. Oxford, UK: Blackwell Publishers, 1992. Pg. 1122-1123. 

Museums and art institutions have been, understandably, a ‘hub’ to safely educate the public of concepts in rather abstract mediums – an alternative way to synthesize complex information by society. With an increase in the use of technology in art, a clear path has been paved for artists to utilize the information they have access to, and to configure an aesthetic which encompasses technology, conceptual art, and socio-political activism. This adoption of information, and the intricate ways it can be harnessed by artists, has proven to facilitate artists in their own unique dissemination of institutional critique. The fear of the unknown, which technology undoubtedly encompasses, leaves no reason for the institution not to fear its ability of destruction of old ideas. In 1974, one year before the ‘personal computer’ was released mainstream, Hans Haacke identifies this growing desire for independence in museums. Due to the emergence of systemic exploitation through art and technology, Hans encouraged institutions to avoid exhibiting “such a portrait of their own structure” and furthermore to “try to dissuade or even censor works of this nature”, referring to artists who were knowingly, but covertly, using technology as means for disrupting the systems which held them.2 By avoiding the dismantling of bias or flawed systems within the system, this desire for ‘independence’ by museums, can often be measured by private funding – a tool which allows for more control of the types of bigotry contained in the institution. 

2 Haacke, Hans “Statement” (1974) Art in Theory: 930-931. 

With an increase in understanding of technology and data mining, knowledge which was previously kept hidden is being revealed to wider audiences and at a much quicker rate. As a result, art institutions today have found it difficult to avoid the deconstruction of their own frameworks, and in order to survive, must adapt to tactics beyond the esoteric powers controlling them. By adapting, the institution exploits itself, in a sense, for the sake of survival, but also due to the viewers’ thirst for the knowledge of the systems they live in. The speed of which large amounts of data are able to communicate through their compression has further made it difficult for said institutions to keep up with the data revolution outside of the museum. The desire for artists to communicate truth, which can be exploitative in nature, is equally matched with a desire for consciousness in art viewers. Elements of technology such as data mining and resourceful algorithms are being condensed into aesthetic media, encouraging our senses to absorb patterns and experiences of contrasting knowledge to a system we typically have a limited observation of. If such precise scientific patterns are being discovered and deployed in art, it could be assumed that transparency in institutions, for example, was inspired by the fear that this ‘hidden’ knowledge is going to be inserted and relayed throughout all communication channels – especially in art through data, without the institution itself even recognizing this occurrence. 

This merging of technology and art has the power to contradict traditional systemic privilege in the institutions which hold them. The social trends revealed in art allow for data to be continuously adopted by institutions, even if it exploits them. When Laura Poitras, an American film producer, released Astro Noise at The Whitney Museum of American Art in 2016, her well-being and safety from the government was already threatened, due to her acquiring of this exclusive data. Poitras’ exhibit included inkjet prints of the encrypted data left by drones used by the American government as surveillance post-9/11. The data included intricate tracing of their location in the Middle East (Fig. 1), and supported the developing concern of protection of privacy, safety, and the invasive techniques used by the American government with military technology. According to The Whitney: 

In the months following September 11, 2001, political and military officials instigated significant changes in U.S. policy, expanding the use of indefinite detention, secret renditions, targeted killings, torture, and mass electronic surveillance.3 

3 “Laura Poitras: Astro Noise.” Whitney Museum of American Art, February 5, 2016. https://whitney.org/Education/ForTeachers/TeacherGuides/LauraPoitras. 

4 Maass, Peter. “How Laura Poitras Helped Snowden Spill His Secrets.” The New York Times. The New York Times, August 13, 2013. https://www.nytimes.com/2013/08/18/magazine/laura-poitras-snowden.html. 

This mass electronic surveillance was heavily reliant on drones. The data collected was passed to Poitras by Edward Snowden, a young man working for the NSA, who followed American security surveillance of drones.4 When looking at these images, it’s nearly impossible to tell what they are. Their significance, however, is immeasurable. This drone data allows for observations to be made and questions to be raised regarding the ubiquitous nature of technology and how it is used by governments unethically. Astro Noise is a prime example of an artist utilizing confidential data from highly sophisticated technology to deconstruct the reality of systems and institutions we live in. 

The museum as a safe place can no longer be guaranteed; it would be viable to assume the viewers of Poitras inkjet prints viscerally felt the effects 9/11 had on governments’ insatiable appetite for control. A sense of despair, ambivalence, and angst, thereby triggering a greater ‘need’ to regain authority catapults from the artist, to the art, and then onto the viewer. In Poitras book “Astro Noise: A Survival Guide for Living Under Total Surveillance”, the forward by Adam D. Weingberg states the audience as the preferred subject, saying: 

The subject of each work, however is not so much the other—The hooded prisoner held captive for unknown reasons; the potential targets of drone strikes lying unaware under the star filled skies of the Middle East; the artist herself, who has been the target of numerous governmental investigations— but rather the public who pass through the installation; that is, us.5 

5 Poitras, Laura, Jay Sanders, and Weiwei Ai. Astro Noise: A Survival Guide to Living under Total Surveillance. New York: Whitney Museum of American Art, 2016. 

Physically, an audience might be safe in the museum, but psychologically, mentally, and emotionally, they become an incubator of societies fear – containing the ‘Astro noise’ of collective trauma, and carrying it with them. 

In the exhibit The Age of You at The Museum of Contemporary Art in Toronto, a piece which includes words from the curators Basar, Couplan, and Obrist, reads ‘everyone talks about their data, but what does data even look like? And even if you saw it, would you know what to do with it?’ (see Fig. 2). These words are displayed on an image with Peter Saville, by artist Yoso Mouri. The underlying message this piece possesses is pervasive throughout the entire exhibit, as well as exhibits by Poitra and Steyerl – as the artists provide images of data in varying mediums, their relevance is too complex without context to support them. The viewers are left wondering: ‘what would this data mean to me’? However, this is how we perpetually live today – completely unaware and ok with our unknowing. 

As the post-modern world becomes desensitized to technologies’ phenomenal and daily evolution, and as Jean-Francois Lyotard unpacks: we continue to tolerate ambiguous information and accept our differences from subject and object, becoming more tolerable to incommensurable differences. This is the power that data and technology has over society, and why it is incorporated so urgently in works by artists today. The intangibility of data and technology has a power, and ultimate ambiguity, which artists can utilize for societies mutual search for freedom. Similarly, to Poitras, Basar, Couplan, and Obrist echo the search for freedom through data, and present it to viewers by testing their own sense of self and security in a world consuming and dispersing their own uncharted information. 

As social and political messages are finding new ways of being incorporated into art, relevant data to support such issues is typically only seen by esoteric groups (policy makers, private investors, data engineers). This vital information - which is not typically communicated to the public - takes a unique aesthetic shape and style, making strong theories and conceptions regarding social issues more palatable (but not always safer) to the public. Art gives data a stage to communicate concepts abstractly, while also providing viable concrete ideas to reveal some sort of reality to the viewer. In Hito Steyerl’s exhibit This is the Future, at The Art Gallery of Ontario, the words ‘HELL YEAH WE FUCK DIE’ are lit up in block letters; these words represent the “five words that have appeared most frequently in popular song titles over the past decade”6 – a dystopic reality that technology reveals when algorithms are introduced. Reesa Greenberg’s essay Playing it Safe reflects qualities the merging of science and art has created, which is the notion of a rather unsafe reality, and which cannot be excluded from museums. Greenberg mentions that museums cannot guarantee safety, giving space to artists such as Poitras and Steyerl a platform to exploit society through the use of data in their art.7 

In conclusion, information and art has become increasingly used as a tool to exploit and reveal both technological and natural systems of society. From Poitra’s drone encryptions to Steyerl’s grim realities of data mining, data has become an instrument where art is the vehicle. How does this visualization of data become a point of departure for articulating social and political demands? These artists mentioned above fall under an umbrella for institutional critique – not only are they using information and disseminating it through art, but they are molding a new conceptual art, one that is unconceivable in the post-modern world it exists. Ultimately, the sense of something being revealed is encompassed in all their works, whether it be political or societal in nature. With the merging of science and technology in art, a greater sense to activism and political positioning can be achieved, while simultaneously dismantling the notion of the museum as a ‘safe space’.