English

Image: Nuclear Bomb Explosion, Baker test, Bikini, 25 July 1946. Photo: Getty Images

EXHIBITION
UNDER THE CLOUDS
FROM PARANOIA TO THE
DIGITAL SUBLIME
20 JUN — 20 SEP 2015
Adel Abdessemed, Horst Ademeit, Cory Arcangel, Arte Nucleare, Darren Bader, Enrico Baj, Robert Barry,
Eduardo Batarda, Thomas Bayrle, Neïl Beloufa, René Bertholo, Joseph Beuys, K.P. Brehmer, Bruce Conner,
Kate Cooper, Gregory Corso, Guy Debord, Harun Farocki, Hans-Peter Feldmann, Carla Filipe, General Idea,
Melanie Gilligan, Jean-Luc Godard & Anne-Marie Miéville, Peter Halley, Rachel Harrison, Mona Hatoum,
Pedro Henriques, Thomas Hirschhorn, Yves Klein, Sean Landers, Elad Lassry, Mark Lombardi, Julie Mehretu,
Katja Novitskova, Ken Okiishi, Trevor Paglen, Nam June Paik, Silvestre Pestana, Pratchaya Phinthong, Seth
Price, Martha Rosler, Thomas Ruff, Jacolby Satterwhite, Ângelo de Sousa, Frances Stark, Haim Steinbach,
Hito Steyerl, Jean Tinguely, Adelhyd van Bender, Stan VanDerBeek, Andy Warhol, Christopher Williams,
Christopher Wool, Anicka Yi
Since the second half of the twentieth century,
we have lived under the shadow of two clouds:
the mushroom cloud of the atomic bomb, and
now the ‘cloud’ of information networks. How
did the symbol of post-war paranoia become
the utopian metaphor for today’s global,
interconnected world? If the mushroom
cloud represented the potential annihilation
of human civilization, the ‘cloud’ is the
diaphanous representation of the network-
driven, information-saturated conditions in
which we increasingly live, work and play.
These two interrelated clouds have shaped
and imbedded themselves into everyday life;
their effects are felt both in the world and in
our heads and bodies. We are assailed with the
effects and affects of the cloud, its solicitation
of emotion and consumption, nearly every
minute of every day. Data overwhelms us with
needs, demands, and sensations; our digital
self lives a life of its own. The image of the
cloud, unseen yet floating above us, stands
for everything from the abstractions of the
financial system to the increasingly mediated
character of our social relationships. The
vastness, but also the possible terror, that the
cloud imparts, suggest that a contemporary
sublime has come to replace the natural
one associated with the painting of the 19th
century. How might we critically confront
the flows of this sublime, the realities of
digital space, and the myriad effects of the
decentralized networks and interfaces that
shape daily life? Bringing together works
by 55 artists from different generations
and geographies, ‘Under the Clouds: From
Paranoia to the Digital Sublime’ explores the
singular image of contemporary life.
FROM THE NUCLEAR CLOUD TO THE
DIGITAL CLOUD
The familiar image of the mushroom cloud
comes from the documented nuclear tests
beginning with the first detonation of an
atomic bomb, the ‘Trinity’ test, on 16 July
1945. The explosion was captured from a
variety of perspectives by dozens of still and
film cameras, introducing a new image into
the popular imagination. The scale of the
destructive potential became clear in the
1945 bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
The effect of the bomb was sublimely
terrifying. The paranoia condensed in this
image originated in the phantasmagorical
event that haunted the period following
the Second World War: a nuclear holocaust.
The arsenal of nuclear weapons of the post-
war period was enough to ensure the death
of every inhabitant of Earth several times
over. This sublime terror of nuclear war is
evident in Thomas Ruff’s (Germany, 1958),
jpeg bi01 (2007), an enlarged and pixelated
image of the nuclear cloud that also reflects
the circulation and condition of images in
the digital era, in which historical events
are increasingly experienced and mediated
through jpegs. The destructive potential of
postwar technology also appears in the work
of Jean Tinguely (Switzerland, 1925—1991)
through his Study for the End of the World
no. 2 (1962).
The geopolitical response to this
unprecedented destruction potential was the
theory known as Mutual Assured Destruction,
a form of deterrence put in practice during
the Cold War. The variety of war scenarios
considered by military defense analysts
throughout the Cold War was based on a
precise question: in the event of a nuclear
conflict, would any of the sides be able to
maintain retaliation capability following an
initial strike? Retaliation would be rendered
impossible if communications infrastructure
were damaged in a first strike. How could
a command system survive such potential
destruction so as to ensure the total
annihilation of the attacking enemy?
The result was the creation of distributed
information networks, resorting to the
computational capabilities of several ‘nodes’.
Information would circulate in a network of
digital connections — giving rise to what is
now known as the internet. These advanced
technologies have now evolved to fit the palm
of one’s hand. Digital and mobile equipment
has come to play an infrastructural role in
everyday life. The ‘network’ itself now defines
almost all forms of social relationships and
allows for a global and interconnected
market on an unprecedented scale. Created
at the dawn of this technological revolution,
Movie Mural (1968/2015) by filmmaker Stan
VanDerBeek (USA, 1927—1984), immerses
the viewer in a flow of overlapping images
from various sources, proposing a pictorial
language that could serve as an instrument
for communication at the global level.
In the mid-2000s, corporations such as
Amazon began using the term ‘cloud’ to
describe the architecture of the information
that allows access to data through the
Internet. The cloud is our representation
of a situation in which the circulation
of information is able to solve complex
problems or even manifest unconscious
desires. We see, think and feel through the
cloud. While the digital network emerged
from the context of nuclear war, it also
proposes a euphoric, utopian dimension
of an interconnected global community, a
political and social dream facilitated by a
network of digital communications — from
which arise both global terrorism and
online dating. Narcisus (1993), a video in
which Sean Landers (USA, 1962) appears
half-naked in a monologue, presages the
language of self-disclosure of individuals in
social networks. In the video My Best Thing,
by Frances Stark (USA, 1967), a dialogue
between the artist and her online partners,
composed from actual conversations,
illustrates how technology has mediated
relationships while allowing for new forms
of behaviour and intimacy.
The image of the cloud is, in fact, a
mystifying representation, a way of dealing
with the vastness of the data at our disposal.
It is a metaphor that masks, and literally
naturalizes, the networks of power — literal,
judicial, political, biological, aesthetic,
corporative, etc. — that increasingly control
the production and circulation of data. This
seemingly immaterial cloud is fed by 30
thousand million watts of electricity, the
equivalent to the output of thirty nuclear
power plants, and depends upon a whole
physical infrastructure of cables and
buildings that exist in actual geographical
locations. The photograph NSA-Tapped
Fiber Optic Cable Landing Site, Point
Arena, California, United States (2014)
by Trevor Paglen (USA, 1974) reveals
the infrastructure of the net, exposing its
materiality and, simultaneously, the state of
generalized surveillance that characterizes
the contemporary era. The image depicts
a place in the coastline of California where
the fibre optic cables that sustain the digital
cloud are located, immaterial information
centralized in concrete physical locations.
INVISIBLE FORCES; FROM RADIATION
TO THE FLOW OF INFORMATION AND
FROM THE CLOUD TO THE BODY
The threat of nuclear destruction included
the invisible danger of radioactive radiation
and rain. This invisible terror exposed the
eventual survivors of a nuclear strike to
radiation, prolonging the nefarious effects
of the bomb in the invisible threat of gamma
rays, DNA degeneration and cell damage
potentially leading to cancer. The effects
of radiation are suggested in Radiologias
[Radiologies] (1972), by Silvestre Pestana
(Portugal, 1949), in the deformations of
the body of Ângelo de Sousa’s (Portugal,
1938—2011) work Pequenas esculturas
(Orelhas) [Small Sculptures: Ears] (1975) and
in Profilo [Profile] (1960), by painter Enrico
Baj (Italy, 1924—2003), a member of the
European movement of Nuclear Art, formed
in the wake of the Hiroshima and Nagasaki
bombings to investigate the effects of the
atomic bomb’s sublime horror on the human
body and society.
This menacing power of radiation seems
to exist outside the reach of human
perception, a mutant danger that cannot
be seen, felt, touched or smelt. Existing
potentially everywhere, it was represented
by the sublime monstrous scale of Godzilla
(a monster created by a thermonuclear
explosion), as well as by a variety of cultural
phenomena, from Spiderman to sci-fi film
zombies. The link between invisible radiation,
information, and sensorial paranoia also
appears in the series of photographs by
Horst Ademeit (Germany, 1937—2010)
taken with a Polaroid camera to research
and document the effects of what he called
‘cold rays’, i.e., negative invisible forces that
cross unimpeded all the dimensions of our
biologic and psychological life, as well as
our cultural and ecological system. The
thousands of diagrams by Adelhyd van
Bender (Germany, 1950—2014), stretching
across infinite notebook pages that seem
to form a language of cyphers and signs,
express a continued research on the
invisible, atomic connections linking objects,
bodies, social-political events, psychological
states, emotions and natural events.
All that is solid melts into air. Or dissolves
in water, as we are reminded in the work
by Hito Steyerl (Germany, 1966), Liquidity
Inc. (2014). The economic abstractions and
algorithms that shape daily life dissipate
money and value in the ‘cloud,’ are suggested
in Trend Weltbörsen (Paris — Deutsche
Börse) [Global trends of the stock exchange
(Paris — German stock exchange)] (1976) by
K.P. Brehmer (Germany, 1938—1997) and
in Pratchaya Phinthong’s (Thailand, 1974)
works What I Learned, I No Longer Know;
The Little I Still Know, I Guessed (2009) and
Far Away So Close (2001). Credit has become
the organizational form of all contemporary
relationships and exchanges, as shown in
Crisis in the Credit System (2008), a four-
episode series edited in television style by
artist Melanie Gilligan (Canada, 1979). This
fictional video is the result of an extended
investigation and meetings with hedge fund
managers, financial journalists, economists,
bankers and activists. A universe where the
circulation of money and the circulation of
images have lost their fixed referent or value
is also proposed in the work by Yves Klein
(France, 1928—1962), Receipt Book for the
Sale of the Zones de sensibilitié picturale
immaterielle, series no. 4, zone no. 1 (1962).
Despite the metaphor of immateriality, the
shadow of the cloud imposes itself upon
the world that surrounds us and it presses
down on the human body, either under the
subtle form of radiation, or transforming
it into a thing. In the post-war period, the
body, particularly the female body, was
appropriated as merchandise through
which other merchandise could be sold,
creating a relationship between sex and
bombs by developing a flourishing economy
in the years following the Second World
War. The works of Martha Rosler (USA,
1943), Cleaning the Drapes (1967—72), and
Haim Steinbach (Israel, 1944), Together
Naturally V-4, E-1 (1986), express both the
‘commodification’ of human relations and
the relationship between domesticity and
the war economy. The relationship between
the female body, the market and the atomic
explosion is depicted in the film by Bruce
Conner (USA, 1933—2008), A MOVIE
(1958), screened as part of the exhibition,
a montage of fragments of erotic films, B
movies and television news. With her digital
animation Rigged (2014), artist Kate Cooper
(United Kingdom, 1984), links the way in
which the female body is remodelled by
the consumer market and the digital cloud,
seeking to explore our way of relating to
bodies that exist in virtual space.
The effects resulting from this experience
of the cloud are multiple: from corporeal
to affective, material, geopolitical and
economic. Instead of shortening, average
working hours have been lengthened by
digital technology. As server space increases
exponentially, the same occurs with working
time, blurring the line between work and
non-work, labour and leisure. To improve, or
to intensify, the effects of the cloud, there
is a range of resources at our disposal:
caffeine, energy drinks, antidepressants and
sleeping pills. This is the response of the
body to the technological, social and cultural
mutations alluded to in the painting by K.P.
Brehmer, Schlafen — Du oben ich unten
—, Rot ist träumen [Sleeping — You on Top,
Me Below — Red is Dreaming] (1984). These
effects are also felt as solitude, cognitive
fatigue, attention disorders and a state of
generalized anxiety and politicized terror, as
shown in Nervous (2000), a work by Adel
Abdessemed (Algeria, 1971).
ICONOCLASM, EVENT-IMAGE AND
CIRCULATION
In the cloud, we are surrounded by forms of
iconoclasm: images that are compressed or
pixelated. Our iconoclasm is generated both
by the hyper-circulation of digital capital
and by the generosity of what we want to
share. We no longer even merely look at
images; we now reduce, drag, enlarge and
invert images. The political nature of this
iconoclasm is evident in Touching Reality
(2012), by Thomas Hirschhorn (Switzerland,
1957), in which a moving hand manipulates
images of disfigured and blown-up human
bodies. The images of contemporary terror
that now circulate in the media also appear
in Seth Price’s (Palestine, 1973), Hostage
Video Still with Time Stamp (green, 2
rolls) (2006), and the culmination of the
utopian dream of an interconnected world
is suggested by Nam June Paik’s (Seoul,
1932) Global Groove (1973).
Alongside the production of its different
iconography — such as the pixel, the
decapitation video, or the selfie —, the
cloud has begun to demonstrate its own
ways of ‘seeing’, beyond the visuality or
the parameters of the human sensorial
apparatus. The automation of surveillance
and production, for instance, has made them
less reliant on direct human intervention.
The result is what Harun Farocki (Germany,
1944—2014) calls ‘operational images’,
intended for specific technical operation
rather than be seen by human beings, as
proposed by Auge/Maschine I—III [Eye/
Machine I—III] (2003). These images
originate in technologies such as facial
recognition software, biometric identification
technologies, QR code readers, surveillance
cameras and drones. In the cloud, images are
now witnesses, agents and actors, looking
more at us than us at them.
Text based on the essay by João Ribas, ‘Under the
Clouds’ published in the exhibition catalogue.
PUBLICATION
João Ribas (ed.), Under the Clouds: From
Paranoia to the Digital Sublime, exh. cat.,
Porto: Fundação de Serralves, 2015. Texts
by Enrico Baj & Sergio Dangelo, Thomas
Hirschhorn, Sean Landers, Metahaven, Seth
Price, João Ribas, Frances Stark, Hito Steyerl
and Stan VanDerBeek.
Entrance to the exhibition
ATRIUM

Bookstore

PÁTIO DA ADELINA

Entrance to the Museum

3rd Floor
 Staircase leading to
Project Room
3rd Floor

Project Room
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‘Under the Clouds: From Paranoia to the Digital Sublime’ is curated by João Ribas,
Deputy Director and Senior Curator of the Serralves Museum of Contemporary Art.

Exhibition coordinator: Filipa Loureiro

Registrar: Daniela Oliveira
Transports: Daniela Oliveira, Inês Venade
Advisor to the exhibition design: Filipa Alfaro
Museum installation team: João Brites, Ricardo Dias, Rúben Freitas, Carlos Lopes,
Adelino Pontes, Artur Ruivo, Lázaro Silva
Video: Ana Amorim, Carla Pinto
Sound: Nuno Aragão
Light: Rui Barbosa
Educational Service: Liliana Coutinho (Head of Education), Diana Cruz, Cristina Lapa
CINEMA Jean-Luc Godard & Anne-Marrie Miéville
Auditorium Six fois deux [Six times Two], 1976
Part 4a: Pas d’histoire [No History], 1976
Bruce Conner Video, colour, sound, 56’34’’
A MOVIE, 1958 Part 4b: Nanas, 1976
16 mm film, black and white, sound, 12’ Video, colour, sound, 42’30’’
Original language: English Original language: French
No subtitles Portuguese subtitles
Courtesy Conner Family Trust Courtesy INA, Paris
20 JUN & 04, 11 and 25 JUL (Sat), 18h00 & 18h30 13 SEP (Sun), 18h00

Jean-Luc Godard & Anne-Marrie Miéville

Six fois deux [Six times Two], 1976 GUIDED TOURS
Part 1a: Y’a personne [Nobody’s There], 1976 Museum Galleries
Video, colour, sound, 57’20’’
Part 1b: Louison, 1976 Guided tour to the exhibition by artists Silvestre
Video, colour, sound, 41’43’’ Pestana, Carla Filipe, Pedro Henriques
Original language: French 20 JUN (Sat), 16h00—17h00
Portuguese subtitles
Courtesy INA, Paris
By João Ribas, curator of the exhibition and
05 SEP (Sat), 18h00 Deputy Director of the Serralves Museum
19 JUL (Sun), 12h00—13h00
Jean-Luc Godard & Anne-Marrie Miéville  
Six fois deux [Six times Two], 1976 By Paulo Jesus, Education team of the
Part 2a: Leçons de choses [Lessons about Serralves Museum
Things], 1976 22 AUG (Sun), 17h00—18h00
Video, colour, sound, 51’30’’
Part 2b: Jean-Luc, 1976
By Paulo Jesus, Education team of the
Video, colour, sound, 47’50’’
Original language: French Serralves Museum
Portuguese subtitles 13 SEP (Sun), 15h00—16h30
Courtesy INA, Paris
06 SEP (Sun), 18h00 Every weekend the Serralves Museum Education
Service offers a programme of guided tours to the
Jean-Luc Godard & Anne-Marrie Miéville exhibitions on view at the Museum:
Six fois deux [Six times Two], 1976
Part 3a: Photos et cie [Photos and Company], 1976 Sat: 16h00—17h00 (in English)
Video, colour, sound, 45’33’’ Sat: 17h00—18h00 (in Portuguese)
Part 3b: Marcel, 1976 Sun: 12h00—13h00 (in Portuguese)
Video, colour, sound, 54’48’’ These visits are carried out by Educational Service
Original language: French Educators of the Serralves Museum or by guests.
Portuguese subtitles
Courtesy INA, Paris
Additional information at www.serralves.pt
12 SEP (Sat), 18h00

Institutional support Exclusive Sponsor of the Museum

Official Insurance Provider: Fidelidade — Companhia de Seguros, S.A.

Fundação de Serralves / Rua D. João de Castro, 210 . 4150-417 Porto / www.serralves.pt / serralves@serralves.pt / Information line: 808 200 543
PARKING Entrance by Largo D. João III (next to the École Française)