Artist and curator Mark Tribe is the founder of
Rhizome.org, a nonprofit organization that presents and archives new-media art and critical writing. His most recent work, StarryNight, can be viewed at rhizome.org/starrynight.
ARTISTS BEGAN EXPERIMENTING with the Internet in 1994, shortly after the first Web browser was released. For those of us who were making it, Net art meant that art was finally freed from the world of physical objects that can be bought, sold, and resold. It also meant that traditional notions of authenticity and authorship were finally dead, not just in theory but in practice. Most important, it meant instant and direct access to a global audience without the intervention of museums, galleries, or other established institutions.

Seven years later, everybody seems to want a piece of the action. With new-media exhibitions popping up in major museums from New York to San Francisco, this may be our last chance to reflect on Net art's golden age of innocence.

The Body of Michael Daines
members.home.net/mdaines/ebay.html
One of my favorite things about Net art is that it's truly democratic. You don't have to land a gallery for your work to get noticed. Case in point: Last year, Michael Daines, a Canadian high-school student in Calgary, put his body up for sale on eBay under Antiques & Art > Art > Fine > Sculptures. His description read, "The body of a 16 year old male. Overall good condition with minor imperfections." Minimum bid: $5.00. A prosaic black-and-white photograph of a T-shirt-clad torso completed the offering. Daines's easy blend of body art and Net art was a shot heard round the Web. Chris Burden, eat your heart out!

Young-hae Chang Heavy Industries
http://www.yhchang.com/

Young-hae Chang, a translator who lives in Seoul, uses Flash, a popular Web animation format, to create fast-moving text movies set to jazz sound tracks. Of the dozen works included on this site, my favorite is Rain on the Sea (now accessible at www.totalmuseum.org/ webproject8/ rain_on_the_sea.html). Most Net art employs various modes of interactivity—from clicking to typing—to engage you as a collaborator in the making of the work. Chang eschews interactivity, but the result is hardly a passive experience. By accelerating the pace at which the text appears on screen to a rate just within the threshold of human cognition, Chang coaxes you into a state of rapt concentration. Her work offers a glimpse of what Net art might be like in the coming era of broadband Internet connections.

Think the Same
www.totalmuseum.org/webproject8/candyfactory
Exploring notions of utopian architecture through the vernacular of homepage design, Takuji Kogo of Candy Factory in Yokohama, Japan, takes the Web for granted as a medium, using it with ease and fluency. As you explore the site's loosely structured pages, animation and sound samples combine in a multimedia collage. At one point, the words "Are you playing at not playing with me?" trail the cursor like the tail of a kite. Think the Same has a casual sophistication that's instantly appealing. The highlight: a song by G.H. Hovagimyan at www. totalmuseum.org/webproject8/candyfactory/t1.htm that sounds like what computers would sing if they were walking through Lenny Kravitz's "Fields of Joy."
Restless Culture
www.restlessculture.net/peppermint
New-media performance artist Cary Peppermint's Net-art actions—over-the-top gestures such as a mock e-vite to "a party that never ends," presented in venues from The Kitchen to eBay—feel like twenty-first-century takes on Warhol's Factory. The pseudonymous Luther Blissett caught up with Peppermint in a recent interview published on Rhizome.org.

"Someone the other day said to me,'Oh yea, I understand this "Restless Culture" . . . It's sort of like you change so fast that [the] market can't keep up with you.' And I thought, maybe . . . but where is one ever located? . . . Then I thought restlessness is a real dissatisfaction with the way things are, a sort of hyper-consciousness; an understanding where an artist breaks the seemingly continuous surface of beings by producing intermittent exposures."

Stream Weaver

Net art's institutional apotheosis just wouldn't be complete without the stamp of New York's Museum of Modern Art, which launched its first series of independent, commissioned artworks February 15 at http://www.moma.org/. At first, it might seem antithetical that the museum's inaugural online project is by video artist Tony Oursler rather than by an established
Net-art star. But, as Oursler says, "Working online merely is a continuation of a drive I've always had—to look for new art spaces to work with."

Indeed, TimeStream is pure Oursler, just transposed to the Web. Last year, the master of projection's Influence Machine turned Manhattan's Madison Square Park into an eerie landscape of giant visages floating over trees and clouds of smoke. Now, with the technical support of Web designer Eric Rosevear, Oursler transforms a website into a dark, not-so-
obviously navigable environment, where ghostly images of faces flicker as elements of the homepage's user interface. Loosely based on a didactic timeline chronicling the history of media, Oursler's site allows visitors to explore such varied topics as ancient Egyptian modes of communication, the camera obscura, cathode-ray tubes, and X-ray devices in a cross-disciplinary—and highly aestheticized—manner.

"Tony's piece is very 'Web,' but also fits into the continuum of modern art," says associate curator Barbara London, who is spearheading MoMA's series of Net-art commissions, to include Net and non-Net artists alike. "What we'll show will clearly reflect who we are as an institution. Plus the series is very practical," London acknowledges. "As MoMA's building expands and our galleries are temporarily reduced, what better place to show art than on the Internet?"
—REENA JANA

Above: Tony Oursler, TimeStream, 2001, screen capture from timestream.moma.org.
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