Explanatory text from Are Computers Alive? Evolution and New Life Forms, by Geoff Simons (1983).
A cybernetic sculpture, 'The Senster', was constructed by Edward Ihnatowicz in 1970 for the Philips Evoluon in Eindhoven. The device is a large electrohydraulic structure in the form of a lobster's claw: six hinged joints allow great freedom of movement. It is interesting that the device's unpredictable behaviour makes the observer feel that the sculpture is alive. Reichardt (1978) commented: 'It is as if behaviour were more important than appearance in making us feel that something is alive.' 'The Senster' has senses—sound channels (effective ears) and radar—to allow it to monitor its environment: it will, for example, react to the movement of people in the immediate vicinity. Electrical signals are fed from a control unit to activate mechanisms which cause movement in the device. The brain (a computer) has learning abilities and can modify the machine's behaviour in the light of past experience. Confronted by this artificial device, it is clear that people have no difficulty in organizing their psychological responses as if 'The Senster' were alive—an animal or another human being.
Watch it in action below. The people desperately trying to get its attention clearly hadn't watched enough horror movies to know what usually happens next in situations with sentient machines.
Have you ever considered commissioning a dog portrait in uniform? Take a look at Deef the dog above. His owners really wanted an oil painting of their dog painted as the Count of Monte Cristo. And personally, I think it’s come out really well. In fact our paintings of dogs in uniform or having your dogs in costume have become extremely popular, more so than our dog artists ever thought.
London police recently responded to a report of a woman in an art gallery who appeared to be unconscious. The gallery was closed, but the non-moving woman could be seen through a window. So, "officers forced entry to the address, where they uncovered that the person was in fact a mannequin."
The mannequin was part of a sculpture by American artist Mark Jenkins depicting the time his sister had "passed out and buried her face in a plate of soup."
Vostell, an artist of international repute, has a history of casting expensive devices in concrete to "cancel their presence." Television sets are a favorite target, but he once sealed an entire Cadillac in cement in Chicago. At LAICA, some of the sets are dead or completely covered in concrete, but most have at least part of their screen exposed. They drone on and on with soap operas, talk shows and afternoon Westerns...
Vostell means to contrast the sophistication of TVs and turkeys. The birds win handily. He also feels we can learn more from reputedly stupid turkeys than from television, but the comparison may not be a fiar one. The TV drone is so familiar and the programming so low-level, we quickly accept it as easily tuned-out background noise. Turkeys, on the other hand, look downright exotic to city folks who have never encountered one off a serving dish and wearing its feathers.
Art historian Susanne Meyer-Büser argues that a 1941 work by Piet Mondrian has been hung upside-down for the past 75 years. The work, made with colored adhesive tape, has traditionally been hung with the closely-spaced bands at the bottom. Meyer-Büser says that these should be at the top, "like a dark sky." A photo of Mondrian's studio from 1944 supports her interpretation.
However, there are no plans to turn the work around, due to its fragile condition.
Paul Di Filippo
Paul has been paid to put weird ideas into fictional form for over thirty years, in his career as a noted science fiction writer. He has recently begun blogging on many curious topics with three fellow writers at The Inferior 4+1.