Critical art reviews of Detroit galleries and museums weekly

Category: Digital Artwork

Infinite Images: The Art of Algorithms @ Toledo Museum of Art

The digital artworks now on view at the Toledo Museum of Art in “Infinite Image: The Art of Algorithms” occupy the bleeding edge of new technologies that underpin recent developments in video gaming, animation, cryptocurrency generation, and artificial intelligence. As a museumgoer with only average knowledge of things digital, I wondered whether I would be overwhelmed by this newly sprouted and unfamiliar branch of the art historical tree. The answer to that question was both yes and no.

One can only imagine the amount of invisible electronic and digital infrastructure required to present the seamless elegance of the collection now gathered in the museum’s Canaday Gallery, with nary a wire in sight and not a single pixel out of place.  Most of the artworks, grouped in four sections, are arranged in a circle around the outside edge of the gallery, with a few room-size video displays at the periphery and another central structure housing several impressively monumental installations. The artists, designers, and curators of this up-to-date survey of technically complex and conceptually ambitious work tell a compelling tale of how we have arrived here, at the inflection point where visual art meets digital engineering.

The exhibition was organized by the Toledo Museum, with work chosen by Guest Curator Julia Kaganskiiy and exhibition design led by Richard The of Studio GreenEyl. I found the complexity and density of the exhibition formidable but not impossible to grasp, and I especially appreciated the informative wall text that accompanied each section. The ample supporting material offered on the museum’s website, including essays, images, and artists’ biographies, contributed greatly to my admittedly basic knowledge of the subject. A helpful little paper glossary of terms, available at the exhibition’s entrance,  also provided much-needed context.

Vera Molnar, Hungarian, 1924-2023, (Des)orders, 1974, Computer drawing in multicolored ink on Benson plotter paper.

The first section,  “The Imaginary Machine,”  is devoted to the work of forward-thinking artists of the twentieth century who rejected the cliché of the singular romantic genius in favor of a more rationalistic way of thinking about and making art. Sol Lewitt and Josef and Anni Albers, already well-known for their explorations in pre-digital rules-based art, are joined by lesser-known (at least to me) pioneers  Max Bill and Vera Molnar. Born in 1924, Hungarian media artist Molnar was an early adopter of the computer as a creative tool. Throughout the more than seven decades of her career, she explored the promise and limitations of human and machine collaboration.

Larva Labs, Matt Hall (b. 1974, Canada) John Watkinson (b. 1975, Canada), CryptoPunk #6649, 2017, custom software, still image, NFT, and Ethereum blockchain.

The next section, “Chance and Control,” introduces and explores algorithm-based art that incorporates randomness as a component of the creative process. Inputs introduced by chance determine elements of the image, resulting in outputs that vary, yet remain consistent with the overall design and concept. Dmitri Cherniak’s Ringers provides a particularly clear, and to my mind, pleasing demonstration of the game-like nature of algorithmically derived images on view.

Dmitri Cherniak, (b. 1988, Canada) Ringers #1090, 2021, on-chain algorithm, NFT, and Ethereum blockchain.

Also created by algorithm, CryptoPunks, (2017), was among the first works linked to blockchain and one of the first prototypes for non-fungible tokens (NFTs). The features of the 10,000 unique digital characters–hair, skin color, facial expressions—are determined by an algorithm with visual parameters established by Matt Hall and John Watkinson of Larva Labs.

Sarah Meyohas, (b. 1991, U.S.) Infinite Petals, 2019, custom generative software.

By the time I arrive at the third section of the exhibition, “Digital Materiality,” I have the queasy feeling that the complexity of digital design, the variety of coding systems and the sheer quantity of data have outrun my ability to comprehend and describe what I am seeing. Images of innumerable rose petals, some real and others created by a generative adversarial network (GAN) in the installation Infinite Petals by Sarah Meyohas, leave me dizzy and disoriented. In another darkened room, I encounter the constantly moving, stylized and choreographed figures of Human Unreadable by Operator (Ania Catherine and Dejha Ti.) As I watch, the artists endeavor to “dissolve the boundary between flesh and data,” a process I find mesmerizing and, at least in that moment, persuasive.

Emily Xie (b. 1989, China), Memories of Qilin #7130, 2022, on-chain algorithm, NFT, and Ethereum blockchain.

The three medium-sized works by Emily Xie ( 2025 Digital Artist-in-Residence at the museum) are more intuitively digestible. Memories of Qilin 345, 676 and 713 are three in a series of 1024 unique images generated entirely by code and influenced by Xie’s Chinese heritage.

Sam Spratt, The Masquerade, 2025, digital painting made with custom generative software.

In a side gallery that he has to himself, poet and painter Sam Spratt blends analog technique with digital process. He has created The Masquerade, a baroque wall-size digital painting of writhing figures acting out a mysterious, crowd-sourced narrative.

I finally arrive in the fourth and last section of the exhibition, elated to have more or less survived the avalanche of new information and sensation.

Jared Tarbell, (b. 1973, U.S.) Entity #14, 2022, custom generative software, digital video (edition of 100), sound (Tonepoet,” Infinity Machine”) NFT, and Ethereum blockchain.

“Coded Nature” is devoted to artworks created by generative software, a new frontier in digital art that mimics systems found in nature. Generative artists compose the instructions for an artwork and a machine learning model then extrapolates from the provided data set to create new content, independent of human intervention. Or, as the curatorial statement puts it, “what generative artists create are not just representations of nature but systems that simulate biological and physical processes.”

During my last minutes in the exhibition, I am captivated by Jared Tarbell’s Entity #14, a video animation created with custom generative software. Artificial creatures resembling microorganisms proliferate, ambulate and subside in an imaginary environment. They are born, respire, decline and die, then the sequence repeats–with variations ad infinitum.  The generative system, based on simple, predictable rules, produces unpredictable and complex results. You can watch this exhilarating dance of the microbes here

As I leave the museum, I wonder what audiences of the future will make of increasingly complex digital artworks like the ones in “Infinite Images.” No doubt technologies of the future will make even more demanding creations possible.  Possibly our powers of comprehension will grow to meet the cognitive demands of the art, or perhaps our cyborg descendants will be better equipped to fully appreciate these future masterpieces.

No matter what, it looks like we are committed to heading down this challenging path to an unforeseeable destination. But as the science fiction novelist and visionary Arthur C. Clarke observed in his novel Childhood’s End, “No one of intelligence resents the inevitable.”

Infinite Images artists: Anni Albers, Josef Albers, Max Bill, Dmitri Cherniak, Sofia Crespo, Deafbeef, Entangled Others, Tyler Hobbs, Larva Labs, Sol LeWitt, Zach Lieberman, LoVid, William Mapan, Sarah Meyohas, Vera Molnar, Operator, Quayola, Sam Spratt, Snowfro, Casey Reas, Anna Ridler, Monica Rizzolli, Jared Tarbell, and Emily Xie.

Infinite Images: The Art of Algorithms  Toledo Museum of Art – July 12-November 30, 2025

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Doomscrolling @ Broad Art Museum

Kayla Mattes – Doomscrolling Exhibition at the  Eli and Edythe Broad Art Museum, MSU, Lansing

Installation view, All works by Kayla Mattes. All images courtesy of Sean Bieri  2024

“Doomscrolling” is internet-speak for the online equivalent of a death spiral: the act of compulsively flicking at the screen of a smartphone and trolling for bad news, absorbing the steady stream of tragedy, atrocity, injustice, and outrage that the algorithm floats past our eyeballs until we’ve lost track of time, and possibly our grip on reality. (The corollary habit of compulsively seeking out tidbits of lightweight entertainment to counteract such horrors is an issue in its own right.) “Doomscrolling” isn’t just a buzzword; googling the term brings up pages on the National Institutes of Health’s website that associate the phenomenon with anxiety, depression, and other disorders. Textile artist Kayla Mattes’ exhibition Doomscrolling (open now through August 18 at the Eli and Edythe Broad Art Museum, Lansing) is an engaging and often humorous attempt to pull the viewer out of this virtual tailspin by transposing the web’s cacophony of video clips, headlines, memes, and emojis into the more tangible medium of woven tapestries, allowing us to examine them at a remove, the better to reflect on how the internet is rewiring our brains.

Born in 1989, Mattes is a “digital native,” a child of the information age who can scarcely recall a time before the internet. Some of the individual memes she works into her tapestries have become classics of the medium; a few are golden oldies that may be as nostalgia-inducing for younger viewers as Saturday morning cartoons are for a Gen Xer. Many visitors will smile with recognition when they spot the “Awkward Look Monkey Puppet,” a synthetic simian who nervously shifts its gaze in response to some uncomfortable situation; the “This Is Fine” dog, a cartoon canine who smiles contentedly while the room burns down around him; and of course the iconic “Keyboard Cat,” a tabby pawing at an electric piano who “plays off,” Vaudeville style, the victim of some catastrophic personal failure in a series of memes that dates back to the primeval year of 2009.

Kayla Mattes, Fun Fact, 2023, Handwoven cotton, wool, and acrylic

It’s fun spotting these familiar characters within Mattes’ tapestries, though it’s a bit like being a soup enthusiast at a Warhol show — focusing only on such details misses the larger point. Mattes collages all this digital detritus carefully to give each tapestry a theme. For instance, Keyboard Cat appears in a piece called “Fun Fact,” surrounded by warning icons, error messages, and a rewind button. The phrase “The internet was once a fun place for watching cat videos instead of monitoring the real-time collapse of late-stage capitalism” appears over the musical feline’s head so that he seems to be “playing off” the failed promise of the World Wide Web and the remains of our collective innocence.

Kayla Mattes, Better Help, 2022, Handwoven cotton, wool, and polyester

“Better Help” borrows its title from an online mental health service and features various images suggesting tension and anxiety: a finger poised over two red buttons labeled “hope” and “nope” (aka, the “Daily Struggle” meme); an hourglass icon; a smiley face hovering over a black hole. The “This Is Fine” dog — originally from a comic strip by KC Green illustrating our masochistic ability to acclimate to any “new normal,” no matter how calamitous — appears in a tapestry called “5%.” Surrounding the dog are images of flames, a rising thermometer, and the exploding head of the “mind blown” emoji, along with a “low battery” warning, suggesting that even as the global situation becomes increasingly heated, our ability to respond is dwindling. Another piece called “‘the apps’ (iykyk)” is strewn with the iconography of various dating apps, along with an image of Sesame Street’s Elmo engulfed in flames, and a map of the freeways of Los Angeles (Mattes’ hometown), both of which provide analogies for the frustrating hellscape that is the online dating scene. Other works in the show address climate change, commerce, and astrology.

Kayla Mattes, 5%, 2023 Handwoven cotton, wool, mohair, and acrylic

The juxtaposition of all this info-ephemera with the centuries-old handicraft of weaving may seem like an odd pairing at first (not as jarring as seeing attack helicopters and rocket launchers woven into an Afghan war rug, maybe, but the disconnect feels similar). It isn’t really as strange as it seems. After all, as Mattes points out, both computers and looms utilize a binary logic of sorts: the intersection points of warp and weft in a tapestry correspond to the on-or-off state of pixels on a screen. Plus, it was an early attempt at automating the weaving process, by one Joseph Marie Jacquard, that produced the punch card technology that made the first proto-computers — or “analytical engines” — possible.

Mattes worked with a modern Jacquard loom to create the centerpieces of the show, three vertical banners that hang down one wall and scroll out onto the floor. Each banner features a list of automated Google search suggestions prompted by the questions “What is…?,” “When is…?,” and “Why is…?” Not entirely random, the suggestions were based on searches trending on the internet at the time; they were then curated and arranged by Mattes. The resulting questions range from the existential (“what is wrong with the world today?”; “when is it time to move on?”) to the trivial (“why is comic sans hated?”; “when is an avocado ripe?”). Taken together, they paint a collective portrait of the internet community that’s reassuringly “relatable” — both humorous and endearing for the humanity that shows through the cold logic of the algorithm.

On either side of the gallery entrance, vertical strings have been hung so visitors can write their own “searches” onto strips of paper, then weave them — and themselves — into the fabric of the show. There’s also a demonstration video showing Mattes at her loom; at one point the artist’s cat appears, batting at balls of thread while Mattes tries to work, because how would an exhibition like this be complete without its very own funny cat video?

Kayla Mattes – Doomscrolling Exhibition at the  Eli and Edythe Broad Art Museum through August 18, 2024.

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Owlkyd @ Image Works

Owlkyd (AKA Darius Littlejohn) has a solo exhibition at Images Works in Dearborn, MI

Installation image courtesy of DAR

Installation image courtesy of the gallery

Image Works opened the Detroit-based artist Darius Littlejohn’s artwork on December 2nd with Expressionistic figures produced in a lushness of high contrast color using computer-based software and printed on paper using a large inkjet printer. Chris Bennett, owner and curator of Image Works says, “Deeply impacted by the Neo-Expressionist works of Jean-Michel Basquiat and the Surrealism of Pablo Picasso, Owlkyd melds his love of Realism with the abstract ideals pioneered by the two to find beauty in the clash of these disciplines.”

Owlkyd, What’s It To Me, 40 x 50”, Digital artwork on paper. 2022

To place the artist Owlkyd in context, I recall following a similar artist in the mid-1970, Richard Lindner, the American/German artist born in Hamburg who moved to the United States in 1941 and taught at the Pratt Institute in Brooklyn, NY. Lindner’s works from this period are often characterized by a vague sense of nostalgia and sexual undertones. In Linder’s figurative work, he created powerful images that were both exotic and surreal in concept and bold in their use of high-contrast color.   Lindner’s figures are reminiscent of those by Fernand Léger

Richard Lindner, The Grand Couple, oil on canvas, 60 x 72”, 1971

The works by Owlkyd are created in a digital environment using XP-Pen 15” drawing tablet, connected to his workstation using PaintTool Sai software, and printed out 40 x 50” using a large inkjet printer. These images are fluid Neo-Expressionistic portraits that use profiles of people with small design images spread out over the compositional spaces and set against various backgrounds.

Owlkyd, Regal, 40 x 50”, Digital artwork on paper. 2022

The work Regal has the figure set against a simplistic landscape with a figure that could be considered a self-portrait; again, dispersed throughout the composition are small design elements. At the same time, one arm is rendered in a realistic, painterly fashion, while the other has a flat white outline with three fingers. The childlike background contrasts with the uniformed figure, part realistic, part cartoonish. The expression of that contrast reaches out and grabs the viewer.

Owlkyd, Is My secret safe, 40 x 50”, Digital artwork on paper. 2022

This three-quarter realistic female portrait, Is My Secret Safe, is heavily expressionistic in its surroundings, with small symbols contrasting against an abstract background. Separate from the first two portraits, the figure looks directly at the viewer with a listless expression that draws the viewer in. Owlkyd, in our conversations, mentions the artists who have been influenced well known most, like Picasso, Basquiat, and then Ten Hundred (Peter Robinson), a Michigan artist who specializes in bright, colorful, imaginative character work inspired by cartoons and anime, and graffiti, childlike imagination, comics, and world cultures.

Ten Hundred, (Ted Robinson), Bass Player, Digital Artwork example.

More evident in this figure, No More Opps, with cartoon images on and around the face, is again a self-portrait dressed in regal apparel.

Owlkyd, No More Opps, 40 x 50”, Digital artwork on paper. 2022

Owlkyd, (AKA Darius Littlejohn) supports his livelihood by working in the auto industry managing auto inventory systems for Chrysler. When asked about art school, he says,  “Like many, I didn’t really have the means to pursue any formal training so I am wholly self-taught standing on my various influences.”

Owlkyd, Galactus, 40 x 50”, Digital artwork on paper. 2022

Throughout these portraits are words that express the message, “Not Drugs” and in this work Galactus, it is prominent.  The message appears in the female portraits only and not in male portraits.  It leads this writer to believe it is a statement that has particular meaning for females and reflects the artist’s need to send them a message.

Image Works, located on the far east side of Dearborn, specializes in archival pigment printing, also known as giclée or inkjet printing, for reproducing photographic and fine art imagery. Housed in a storefront on Michigan Ave, it uses the all-glass entrance as its gallery.

The Window Project at Image Works is on display through January 28th, 2023 – Closing Reception: Saturday, January 28th, 1-4 pm

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