Japan and the Technological Arts
By student Quilt Nofchissey
Japan is eminent for its whimsical and creative use of technology. Going to the Mori Museum's Machine love exhibit was full of such eclectic and timeless art I would never see in an art museum in the United States. It was filled with bizarre underground internet culture that was niche but comprehensible to me. I saw this in an art gallery for an absurdist 3D animator and my immediate thought was how I wouldn’t be able to find this in a gallery in the United States.
Much of the Machine love exhibit features existential and philosophical dilemmas that could only be captured through surreal artistic absurdism. There's an ethereal quality in an artist having such potent self-awareness of the medium they're choosing to express themselves in, and I find myself continuously drawn to these ideas of the future and our evolution as a species.
From a young age I have been enamored with the blend of technological innovation and art. There is an abundant potential in how artistic expression can be executed through 3D software, video games, digital painting, coding, development, etc. The handmade and rustic become a transformative and experimental experience for the viewer, often coinciding with the understanding of the societal implications of how technology will affect the future of humanity.
I found myself particularly immersed with the artist Kim Ayoung, who made a short film called Delivery Dancer’s Sphere. The Dancers are delivery riders designed to see in between the folds of reality and time to achieve the shortest possible delivery time. The cinematography is imperfect, technically impressive, and deeply emotional. Part of the disorienting editing is to capture the surging feeling of being stuck in a psychological "maze" in being caught in between time and the fabric of reality. The film, I believe, perfectly captures the intricate internal conflict of love and life itself slipping through your fingers like sand for the purpose of capitalistic productivity. By the end of the film, one of the protagonists who has been caught in the time loop continuum asks to be killed so that she can finally be freed from a vicious cycle.
The art installation has a breathtaking view over Tokyo, which is good for pondering and if you’re a sensitive being like me, crying. The view seems to be intentional, further cementing the question of how we as humans truly desire to experience life and the present moment. Will we let something so precious slip away to reach a satisfactory quota, or can we find ourselves living vulnerable and present to find Zen and self-actualization in our lifetime.
