Geolocation: Tributes to the Data Stream
An Interview with Nate Larson
http://www.larson-shindelman.com/
FP: Hello Nate and Marni! We are so thrilled to be exhibiting your series, Geolocation: Tributes to the Data Stream, at Filter Space. Can you please discuss how you came about pursuing this project?
NL: Hi Rachel, Nate here, representing Larson Shindelman. Marni is traveling with students right now, so I’ll take point on this conversation.
We are interested in all the different ways people put information out into the world. The project started seven years ago when Twitter had about 5 million Tweets a day and now we are up to something on the order of 550 million per day. There is a lot of digital information floating out there, and we are interested in preserving a small fragment of it and reattaching it to the location from whence it came.
The first one we shot was in May 2009 in downtown Chicago just as the financial crisis was getting really bad. At that moment, this particular Tweet was by someone who had apparently lost their job at an investment bank. When we stood on the site of the tweet, it really connected with us and made it clear what it is to be a part of that tragedy or event. We were also thinking a lot about how people were relating to each other in this way. Rather than going to a bar and crying it out with close friends, he is posting it on Twitter where anybody could access this information. This points to a big shift about how people relate to each other in this day and age.
We think that social media has changed the way that we relate to each other and it is amazing to be able to maintain a low level of contact with a vast array of people from all stages of our lives. The NY Times Magazine writer Clive Thompson calls this “ambient awareness,” suggesting that we have a technological sixth sense to know the minds of other people. If I see you on the street and you just posted about winning a major writing award on your Twitter feed, we can jump a step in the conversation and focus on the latest news without getting lost in the small talk.
On the other hand, there is a lot of sociological studies and journalism that suggests that even though we are more connected than ever, higher feelings of loneliness are reported. The first tweet that we shot for the project was a wry commentary on losing a job. It is astonishing to think about people putting that information out there in a public way, rather than limiting it to a few close friends. We also put more personal information out there than ever before and we have serious privacy concerns - who is using that data and for what purpose? Corporations mine it to market to us and there are a number of crime reports with criminals determining your locations through social media. The potential is boundless but we are also mindful of how this information persists on the Internet and the unintended consequences.
We think of it as an “expanded documentary,” which has been floating around as a term for a few years in photo/art circles. The objective of this project is to listen to whispers on social media and link them to places in the physical communities that originated them. There is a digital noise surrounding us, invisible chatter, and we spend time listening to this in each city we travel through. These photographs serve as a means of memorializing these brief virtual moments.
FP: How did this project transform into a collaborative effort? Can you speak about how your respective creative practices influenced this body of work?
NL: We’ve been working together for nine years and have made a lot of work together. This particular project has been a large part of our practice, but the practice really emerges out of a bigger conversation about technology in culture and how we use it to relate to one another.
In Marni’s practice, before we were working together, she was collecting and responding to Internet urban legends. I was making work about religious miracles and sourcing a lot of them from message boards and other online forums. Our collaborative practice naturally extends the relationships from our previous work on digital culture.
FP: I feel like Twitter is so minimal- far less content driven than other social media platforms. Why do you think people feel so driven to reach out with such a cryptic form of communication?
NL: It’s funny, speaking as Nate, I don’t like Twitter much. I find the threading difficult and alienating. Speaking for Marni, she uses it primarily to scan news headlines and articles, rather than as a social community. So we’re deeply immersed when we’re making work, but rather limited in our personal uses of it outside of that.
It’s hard to generalize why people use it, but I think that it’s public facing by default has a lot to do with it. The idea of building an audience is an enticing one, and I think that a lot of folks start there, and then the modes of engagement shift depending how they interact with it and the feedback that they get from other users. I imagine that it’s a relationship that evolves, like anything else.
We see the same patterns in each city. There are a large majority of tweets about love and relationships, then a subset of those about loneliness. There are tweets about jobs, work and some about overall economic conditions. Each city has some specific to certain political climates or local culture, and we research those contextual elements when we come across them.
FP: How did the disparate nature between the text and photographs encourage you to consider your own relationships with social media?
NL: A big part of the project has to do with ideas of privacy, and we think a lot about how people just tend to set their privacy settings and not adjust as they go. They might turn on their location feature and forget that their phone is tracking them everywhere they go.
People leave a trail of digital breadcrumbs behind them whether they intended to or not. The questions we are engaging with are whether or not we are aware of what information we are putting out there—making public—where it is broadcast, and so on. We have looked at a number of cases where people have been burglarized based upon information they had put out on a social network. We have also looked at various scare stories about people who have looked at photographs of children inappropriately and then tracked the movements of those children.
In none of our work are we hacking anyone. This information is publicly available, and so we are able to make these photographs to make people aware of what they are doing and to make them think about their own habits. At the same time, these technologies are changing the way we relate to each other, and hopefully it might lead to richer and deeper relationships.
Our work has made us deeply self-conscious about our own Internet behaviors and uses.
FP: Your series, Geolocation, has also been published by Flash Powder Projects. How do the framed prints and monograph engage the work in different ways?
NL: We’re thrilled about the publication of the book and we love that the work can exist in more than one form in the world and be accessed differently by audiences. We hope that each form allows for a deeper engagement and contemplation. We also love that the book collects 78 photographs, as the project for us really gets richer with quantity.
FP: You both have also been working on a separate series, Death of the Gold Standard. How do you see this body of work as a progression from Geolocation?
NL: Death of the Gold Standard came out of a bigger conversation that we’re having about data, the value of data, and how that data is applied in the world. This new series became a way to play with data in a different way and to investigate the role that it plays in society.
On August 15, 1971, President Nixon announced that the United States would no longer officially trade dollars for gold. Although the US had abandoned the gold standard in the early twentieth century, this announcement completely severed the relationship between the dollar and the gold market thus creating the environment for the credit crisis of our current times.
The Economist introduced the Big Mac Index in 1986 as a comparison device for currency across cultures. In our global culture, the price of a standardized item can be used to illuminate multiple economic conditions: labor, trade, trends, and economic health. Death of the Gold Standard investigates various indices, by asking, How can we make value tangible? We strive to understand equivalence through everyday data points and alternative metrics.
FP: Do you plan to work together again in the future? Are there any new projects on the horizon?
NL: Our practice is ongoing. We’re currently gearing up for a residency with CEC Artslink in St. Petersburg, Russia, where we’ll make a set of Geolocation photographs, make an interactive GPS Portrait (with the Geek Picnic festival), and also enjoy some shared studio time to test some new ideas.
In the US, we’ve started a series of “e-commerce safety zones,” where folks meet in person to complete online transactions. This new series of photographs, Safe Trade, is a record of the places that virtual commerce meets physical commerce in this very peculiar way. We are investigating these safe trade zones, the physical sites linked to the virtual, and the stories of the people who are both using and manning the surveillance of these spaces. Some of the photographs are in a “soft release” on our website.
We’re also working on a set of photographs based on the Ashley Madison website hack, which was a website for folks looking to connect outside their marriages. Hackers dumped all of the data online, which we’ve downloaded, and are currently looking at small towns with a high number of users. The work will be less about the individual users and more about the towns themselves and imagined small town affairs.
“Geolocation: Tributes to the Data Stream” will be on view at Filter Space until May 28th at 1821 W. Hubbard Street, Suite 207, Chicago, IL 60622