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Social Media Archeology and Poetics$

Judy Malloy

Print publication date: 2016

Print ISBN-13: 9780262034654

Published to MIT Press Scholarship Online: May 2017

DOI: 10.7551/mitpress/9780262034654.001.0001

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Rescension and Precedential Media

Rescension and Precedential Media

(p.147) 9 Rescension and Precedential Media
Social Media Archeology and Poetics

Steve Dietz

The MIT Press

Abstract and Keywords

This paper discusses five exhibitions curated by the author of what might be most broadly termed network-based art: Beyond Interface: net art and art on the net (1998), Art Entertainment Network (2000), Telematic Connections: The Virtual Embrace (2001), Open_Source_Art_Hack (2002), and Translocations (2003). While they took place after the invention of the http protocol, they represent an inflection point prior to the commodification of the technology of social media culture and explore formative practices by artists and institutions for current recensions of social media.

Keywords:   Social Media - Creative Practice, Social Media - Artists and Institutions, Exhibitions - Net Art, Exhibitions - Telematic Art, Net Art - Exhibitions, Network - based Art, Telematic Art

In an age of pervasive social media, a look at its precursors raises important issues. What is the intrinsic value of the new? What is the importance of precedent? How critical is content in the context of invention? How do we appropriately memorialize early technology before it becomes commodified and quotidian? When is a poetics impoverished and when is it simply “primitive”? Is art even the right, best, most useful context to think about technology-driven creative practice? How and why do utopian impulses become dyspeptic reality? And, a bit more meta-ly, what is a useful role for the exhibition and the institution in relation to participatory social media?

Around the turn of the millennium, I curated five exhibitions of what might be most broadly termed network-based art: Beyond Interface: net art and art on the net (1998), Art Entertainment Network (2000), Telematic Connections: The Virtual Embrace (2001), Open_Source_Art_Hack (2002), and Translocations (2003). At the time, many of the artists probably would not have self-identified their work as “social media.” Nevertheless, there was an undeniable social network underlying their practice, and this “connectiveness”—of the makers and within the works themselves—coming out of early social media practices described elsewhere in this volume and turning the corner to a wider world web, so to speak, is where these projects can be situated. An inflection point.

This inflection point happened in a much larger, shared, transnational space. Hank Bull’s pioneering efforts in Canada and beyond are documented in this volume. New Zealand and Australia had vibrant telematic scenes. The UK and Europe were host to dozens of informal networks, major programs, exhibitions and festivals, and hundreds of artists. Japan’s NTT ICC was founded in 1997, reflecting a significant embrace of telematic culture. Artists in South America were also active as early as Eduardo Kac’s experiments with Minitel (1984). In the United States, most notably, the independent “digital atelier,” ada’web (1994) was a breathtaking experimental online space, The Thing (1991), Rhizome (1996), artnetweb (1993), and many other “lists” were creating an online culture independent of commercial media. Experimentation was rife: The Palace’s early 3D chat rooms (1995), Pseudo’s streaming content (1993), and Eyebeam Atelier artist residencies (1997), to name just a few. The commercial scene was also (p.148) paying attention to galleries such as Postmasters (1984) and Sandra Gering Gallery (1991). Even museums were getting involved—with Jon Ippolito at the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum, Christiane Paul at the Whitney Museum of American Art, Benjamin Weil at San Francisco Museum of Modern Art, and myself at the Walker Art Center attempting to engage institutional contemporary art in the emerging practices of the network.

This chapter does not purport to represent the wider social media context of the time except to the extent that the exhibitions and artists’ work are representative of contemporaneous practice.

Beyond Interface

The effect of concept-driven revolution is to explain old things in new ways. The effect of tool driven revolution is to discover new things that have to be explored.

—Freeman Dyson

I founded the new media program at the Walker Art Center in 1996, and Dyson’s dictum from Imagined Worlds1 was one of the primary intellectual wedges that we used to lever net art and net artists into the Walker’s self-image as a uniquely multidisciplinary organization. I was advocating that the network was a new disciplinary area, which any institution of contemporary art should want to explore. One of the first orders of business, as simplistic as it seems now, was to clearly make a distinction between “art on the net”—providing access to images of artworks in the collection, for example—and net art, as complicated and un-unified as that notion remains.

One of the first things I did for Beyond Interface2 was to pull together a steering committee,3 a practice of collaboration and co-curation that has remained constant. While this may be a personal preference, I think it also reflects the social nature of network-based art—at least some of its utopian impulses at the time—the networks of sharing that are both a precedent for and a rebuke to contemporary commercial platforms such as Facebook.

Practice as Practice

More germane and far more instructive, however, is a work such as Homework “by” Natalie Bookchin and Alexei Shulgin. It was initiated by them with the participation of Bookchin’s students in an “Intro to Computing in the Arts” course at UC San Diego (UCSD) as well as Shulgin, Heath Bunting, Rachel Baker, Keiko Suzuki, Garnet Hertz, and others. Essentially, Bunting and Shulgin posted Bookchin’s assignment to her UCSD students to make net art to a number of lists: 7–11, nettime, Rhizome, and elsewhere.4 Bookchin then graded each work.5

(p.149) There is a tongue-in-cheek element throughout the project. The headline for Shulgin’s post “Attention uncertified [net][internet][web] artists !” and Bookchin’s grading comments, along with various back channel and “view source” conversations captured in the digital trail, suggest, however, that the field of [net][Internet][web] art was being explored by example—tool driven. It was a social process, available on the surface to anyone, but at the same time deeply layered, rewarding one’s level of engagement.

Beyond Interface was posted the same year as Homework, and I think it’s plausible that Bookchin and Shulgin allowed their work to be part of a more formal institutional narrative as further experimental exploration. There was a commitment to the idea of open networks that allowed for intersection with mainstream, “broadcast” topologies, such as a museum, even if some of their core principles were inimical. Perhaps the experiment would infect the host. Perhaps it would be rejected. Certainly it wouldn’t be fully understood. But the process itself is what mattered and would lead to the next iteration/instantiation/mutation.

Pre-Commodification Culture

Robbin Murphy’s Project Tumbleweed6 was even more explicit about the relationship of social media to the museum, but the exemplary aspect of this project was how his work at artnetweb preceded the commodification of social media technology—and culture—in the form of blogging sites such as Blogger and WordPress.

While I’m intellectually interested in the “what’s next” of technology and what happens in the research lab, this technology is often expensive, surprisingly primitive despite its sophistication, and of limited access and reach. Such technology usually has its most explosive effect when it becomes a commodity item that anyone can use with relative ease for a reasonable cost. Moore’s law is a huge driver of this effect, making heretofore military-grade computational capability as available as a game controller or arduino kit, for example.

The commodification of social media practices such as Murphy’s Project Tumbleweed is driven partly by advances in computation. The ability to have a computer on/as your phone arguably enables Facebook and Twitter. But the parallel driver is the size of the network and the asymmetrical reach possible for an individual. None of our early network experiments had this scale.

What they did have, however, is ideas, passion, and even compassion. The scale hadn’t overwhelmed the practice. Many people preceded the contemporaneous practice of “like, link and share,”7 of course—many of them represented in this volume—but the interesting part about precedence is not who was first but how a community of practice through that practice helps define a field of activity. Defining, or at least thinking about what you are doing and why you are doing it and how best to do it, is the (p.150) critical driver of what is actually desired and needed—not just which blogger service has the largest network or the cheapest price or the best enhancements.

Project Tumbleweed was “an evolving investigation of the possibilities of a personal multidimensional on-line ecology based on potentiality rather than simulation.” Murphy was interested in this because he saw the virtual as a kind of everything. Online virtually anything is possible, which is a different metaphysical relation to the (online) world than creating ever more immersive representations of the physical world. The two are not mutually exclusive, but they are different. Projects such as Project Tumbleweed haunt the world of blogging, tweeting, and contemporary social media, even if only as precedential zeitgeist. For example, Murphy’s prescient discussion of “where” an online museum is situated and what its boundaries are or should be is a direct precedent for the Walker Art Center to make the “unprecedented” decision that its latest homepage should function as a general portal to the world of art and culture, not simply the Walker’s events and collection.8

Art Entertainment Network

If Beyond Interface was a survey to help me and my colleagues think about net art, including its relation to the institutional, then Art Entertainment Network9 was an attempt to do the same using a “born digital” exhibition format, which also had a physical presence in the institution.

Working with the brilliant designer Vivian Selbo, who was previously the art director for ada’web, we decided to create the Art Entertainment Network exhibition interface in a format native to the web—the portal.

We made two critical decisions early on: create a web-appropriate context for the selected works, and introduce a variability to the context so that the site always looked the same but constantly changed. This dynamism ranged from intentional send ups of mass customization to making each functional element of the portal as an artist project. The goal was to both valorize and satirize the mutability of the web while still making it available in the staid white cubes of the museum.

ICS—It’s the Context Stupid

As I have suggested elsewhere, exhibiting net art can be like leipidoptery.10 How do you keep from killing off the subject of interest? For Art Entertainment Network, we created an online Mediatheque11 for the exhibition, which presented curated videos, sound, and texts from around the web that related to either the exhibited artists specifically or topics of their work in general. The idea was that it’s impossible to fully appreciate net art when it is divorced from its natural environment. (p.151)

Rescension and Precedential Media

Figure 9.1 Walker Art Center, Art Entertainment Network, opened February 12, 2000, online interface.

We organized a 12-week online symposium, Entertainment, Art, Technology (EAT).12 The goal of EAT was to provide a social context for experts and interested audience to come together to discuss various topics triggered by the artwork in both Art Entertainment Network and Let’s Entertain, a parallel gallery exhibition curated by Philippe Vergne. The guest “speakers” included artists from the exhibition as well as theorists from around the world, such as Sara Diamond, Geert Lovink, Mckenzie Wark, and Mark C. Taylor, but also, of course, the general public. EAT was modeled on another online symposium, which I curated and produced at the Walker, The Shock of the View.13 (p.152)

Rescension and Precedential Media

Figure 9.2 Walker Art Center, Art Entertainment Network opened February 12, 2000, in-gallery, portal.

Photo: Steve Dietz.

Both were attempts to meaningfully engage the public as co-creators of meaning in relation to their topics.

We also created a marketplace, Artwarez,14 where you could download artist projects and ssoftware such an RTmark screensaver, C5’s softsub, Maciej Wisniewski’s netomat(™), Jeff Gates’ demographics, and much, much more! The marketplace remains a contested site for much of the net art world, and rightly so. But artwarez was perhaps precognition of a Kickstarter or Indiegogo “community,” and the idea of being able to garner support outside of the constraints of traditional institutional funders.

We also created WebWalker, an email newsletter/blog,15 with Robbin Murphy as the guest editor of at least one issue. Like the marketplace, the e-newsletter occupies uncomfortable territory between a purely promotional, marketing device and an informative publication. In some ways, it has been eclipsed by one’s Facebook timeline, which has been commodified, technologically, by aggregators such as Feedly. But the (p.153) question remains whether such algorithmic publications can reach beyond one’s network of mirrors on the basis of something other than commercialism.

At one level, none of this contextual material was particularly earth shattering. Versions of each had been done before, but we still had to invent, more or less from scratch, the capabilities. There was no MailChimp, no Kickstarter, no “Instagram YouTube Complex.” This is one leading edge of artist projects: to help imagine the kinds of things that could be done so that the structural technology can be commodified—and in turn subverted by a new generation of artists.

Mutant Bridges

The second defining aspect of Art Entertainment Network was how we took many of the standard aspects of a commercial portal, randomized them, and made them into artist projects. Each time the home page—the only page, really—refreshed, the webcam view would shift among different artist projects; the banner ad would alternate between an actual sponsor and Jennifer and Kevin McCoy’s fake business, Airworld; the date format would change; you could change the background color; you could select different artist soundtracks to browse by; a different artist-designed daily meme was displayed; the order of the title words changed; a different default search engine was used; the privacy policy linked to a site that revealed “Here’s some of what I (and every site you’ve ever accessed) know about you.” There was even an artist personals ad service.

Angel Borrego Cubero of the Office for Strategic Spaces has promoted the notion, to which I subscribe, of mutant bridges, writing, “OSS defends the idea that, once having decided to build a bridge, it doesn’t cost much extra to add one or more uses or options to its design. Part of the project for a bridge should therefore consist in thinking how the bridge could be used by other trans-species users.”16 If the formative role of pre-social media is to point to a direction of use that is user-driven and not a way to enhance stockholder value, perhaps in the contemporary climate there are ways that economic functions operating as and in public space, including virtual public space, can be recuperated as mutant bridges.

IRL—In Real Life

The museum is a physical site. How do you represent the virtual space and interaction of the network at such a site? Answers generally range from you don’t (Beyond Interface) to the café/lounge (too many examples to list) to the hard(wired) copy (Documenta X).17 For Art Entertainment Network, we worked with Antenna Design, which proposed a revolving door—a literal portal to the virtual world on the nonexistent other side of the door. This was a one-person interface, which didn’t reward long-term engagement, but in the context of a museum exhibition where the average time spent in front of an (p.154) artwork is measured in seconds, perhaps that’s not a critical issue. In any case, as long as it is the human sensorium interacting with social networks, the physical interface is an interesting opportunity that is too seldom explored except as measured by the optimal-size touchscreen.

Telematic Connections

Telematic Connections: The Virtual Embrace, like many of the works in it, is a hybrid affair.18 Part history, part speculation, partly onsite, partly online, it crosses boundaries among art, communications, and popular culture. Its four sections include installation works, past and recent film clips, online projects, and a “telematics timeline.” Through these various media, the exhibition presents the ways in which artists use technology—and the Internet—to explore both the utopian desire for an expanded, global consciousness and the dystopian consequences of our collective embrace, willing or not, of computer-mediated human communications. At the same time, Telematic Connections places this emergent work within a historical framework.19

The focus on the physical distinguishes Telematic Connections from Beyond Interface and Art Entertainment Network. What effect does the network have in physical space and how does the physical world affect and intersect with the network? The network is not a closed system running only in the ether. Even if it’s only the human sensorium, there is almost always an intersection. The works in Telematic Connections were explicit about this.

Attention Economy

Victoria Vesna’s n 0 time,20 subtitled “a community of people with no time,” investigated the sensorial boundaries of online social community. How many people can we really know? How do we know that we know them? These questions have become increasingly urgent in the Facebook universe of friends and “liking” corporations. She writes:

Computer technology promised to save us time and provide a renewed sense of community. Instead we are collectively suffering from information overflow and lack of time, and we have to reconsider the established notions of “community.” When thinking through issues around development and design of networked multiuser environments, time is the most critical element to consider. Information demands time; relationships demand time. How do we approach social environments in which relationships are built on information exchange and where physical presence is not necessary?21

One of the ways that Vesna controlled for her community of people with no time was to construct a physical interface based on a tetrahedron. This related to some of its (p.155) formal properties as outlined by R. Buckminster Fuller, specifically its “insideness and outsideness,” which parallels the inside/outside of online/physical interactions.22 The physical installation was also important because the interface was activated by whole-body interactions, which can be more responsive/intuitive as well as a limitation. Our bodies can only do so much at any given moment. For Vesna, this is not intended as a separation or an incompatibility. She states, “there is no question that the most important consequence of this combination [telematic connectivity] is the shift to acceptance of ourselves as collective and distributed entities.” The physical in the form of attention is an important control or reminder of the number of connections we can benefit from.

Where Is the Love?

The core question of Telematic Connections isn’t the physical per se; however, it is the echo of Roy Ascott’s notoriously appropriate question, “Apart from all the particulars of personal histories, of dreams, desires, and anxieties that inform the content of art’s rich repertoire, the question, in essence, is asking: Is there love in the telematic embrace?”23

Eduardo Kac’s Teleporting an Unknown State is an interesting case in point. A seedling sits in a dark room and a telematic community of viewer-participants must care enough to remotely activate a light source for it to live and grow. When the project was first exhibited in 1996, a seed grew into an 18-inch plant.24 Over the course of the five installations of Telematic Connections, sometimes a seedling grew and sometimes it died and had to be replaced. At times, the distributed community did not care enough to ensure the seed’s survival. There are many possible reasons for this, of course, but conceptually, at least, it points to the tension between scaling and intimacy in social media. The algorithmic solution is better targeting of ads; the artist practice is something to care about more. The techniques are not incompatible, but too often they are a parody of each other.

It has become almost a staple of sci-fi fiction to have dynamically generated, immersive environments. You’re sitting in your home, on the phone, and as you converse, the walls display images generated by the conversation. Maciej Wisniewski’s netomatheque was an actual instantiation of this idea.25 A microphone translates your voice into Internet image searches, which are displayed on the walls of the installation. Over the past decade, everything about this project has become an order of magnitude easier to accomplish technically, from effective voice-recognition software to sophisticated image searching on the web to tiny, short-throw projectors that can easily cover a wall with imagery while remaining unobtrusive to its occupants. On the face of it, Wisniewski tackled the difficult end of the problem, creating, in essence, his own software to accomplish what today an undergrad student could easily connect up. Such design (p.156) fictions, however, undergird many of the directions that our fundamental technologies might take. As Jon Ippolito writes in his essay “The Art of Misuse,”

What is the ultimate effect of creative misuse? Sometimes misuse becomes the norm. In a 1976 report to the Rockefeller Foundation, Paik coined the provocative term “electronic superhighway”—a phase that Bill Clinton paraphrased in his campaign rhetoric as “information superhighway” and has since permeated public consciousness. More often, however, misuse is of no direct practical value, but does what art is supposed to do: stretch our minds to accommodate not only the box, but what’s outside it as well.26

Tina LaPorta’s Re:mote_corp@REALities27 is a perfect example of a project that drew on webcams and CU-see me sites to create a powerful narrative about disembodied connectivity. Like Wisniewski and others, her project predates contemporary social media, which would have made the “gathering” part of the project infinitely easier, but the story she tells remains powerfully evocative, more a harbinger of Her than Skype. In relation to Ascott’s question, there is indeed powerful content in the virtual embrace, which connects viscerally to each individual viewer, but it may beg the question of how it is generated. What is the appropriate mixture of algorithmic, curated/edited/created, and user-generated content for there to be love?


Somewhat ironically, the exhibition Open_Source_Art_Hack, co-curated with Jenny Marketou, took place in the media “lounge” designed by Lot-ek at the old New Museum.28 I say ironically because arguably the “lounge” is an institutional mechanism to domesticate the wild environment of net art, intentionally or not. In the case of Open_Source_Art_Hack, the art also exposed the institution’s inability to adapt to a social and arguably moral imperative due to its commercial relationships.

One of the projects in the exhibition, Knowbotic Research’s Minds of Concern::Breaking News, triggered a set of network processes that investigated the security conditions of any nongovernmental organization (NGO) group’s server and identify whether it was secure or open to hacking attacks. The results were made available on a news ticker, which visualized the strength or vulnerability of the server for a worldwide audience.

The aforementioned “network processes” were a form of port scanning, which hackers do use to take control of various servers. Knowbotic, however, as they analogized, was “just looking,” not entering the organization’s domain. Knowbotic had competent legal counsel about this effort, and no one questioned that it was in fact legal at the time under U.S. laws. The kicker, however, was that the New Museum had a commercial contract with its ISP, which specifically prohibited port scanning. The museum was not willing to have its network shut down or find another ISP, and at the last minute, The Thing stepped in and hosted Knowbotic’s project for the New Museum.

(p.157) This is where the commodification of technology intersects with its commercialization and “shrink wrap” licenses take precedence over other legal rights, subverting the very social networks that they claim to support.


Translocations was a series of platforms: the physical, networked exhibition installation of “Architecture for Temporary Autonomous Sarai” by collaborators Raqs Media Collective and Atelier Bow Wow; the streaming media platform of the Translocal Channel, which was programmed by a number of artist groups from around the world; and the platforms of individual artworks such as OPUS and Translation Map, which require the participation of viewers to establish the possibility of translocal communities over the network. These projects and others in Translocations envision and promote an open, participatory culture that is translocal, interconnected, hybrid, and in flux.29

Five years after Beyond Interface, Translocations attempted to take what had been learned from the preceding exhibitions at the Walker Art Center and elsewhere and achieve two things in relation to net art and the institution: create an appropriate physical installation, and understand and instantiate the Walker as a network node, not a broadcast center.

Architecture for Temporary Autonomous Sarai

For us, the creation of a sarai was to create a “home for nomads” and a resting place for practices of new media nomadism. Traditionally, sarais were also nodes in the communications system (horse-mail!) and spaces where theatrical entertainments, music, dervish dancing, and philosophical disputes could all be staged. They were hospitable to a wide variety of journeys—physical, cultural, and intellectual. In medieval Central and South Asia, sarais were the typical spaces for a concrete translocality, with their own culture of custodial care, conviviality, and refuge. They also contributed to syncretic languages and ways of being. We would do well to emulate even in part aspects of this tradition in the new media culture of today. … This might create oases of locatedness along the global trade routes of new media culture.

—Raqs Media Collective30

Rather than creating a portal to somewhere else, as we did for Art Entertainment Network, we worked with Raqs Media Collective and Atelier Bow Wow to create a “Temporary Autonomous Sarai” to host the exhibition node Translocations as part of the exhibition How Latitudes Become Forms. The idea was inspired by ancient sarais along the Silk Road, modeled in some ways on Dan Graham’s New Space for Showing Videos31 and constructed with the experience of Atelier Bow Wow’s investigation of pet architecture.32

The idea of TAS was that it packed into itself—it was built out of its own crates—and when unpacked, it created a networked set of viewing stations from the individual to (p.158) the small group to the crowd. Central to TAS was Raqs Media Collective’s project OPUS or Open Platform for Unlimited Significance, which, simplistically put, was a way to think about the transmission of culture as recensions rather than precedents and derivatives,33 and a way for the audience to participate in the making of the meaning of the piece by rearranging it physically.

Nodal Networks

Hosted on TAS were a number of projects designed to orient the platform as a network node, not a center from which to broadcast.

Fran Ilich (Mexico City) organized a blog, “Big(b)Other,” with contributors around the world, which was written in both Spanish and English.34 Big(b)Other was, in part, Ilich writes, “a reaction to the supposed ‘reality TV’ epitomized by shows in the United States such as Big Brother, Survivor, Fear Factor and any number of other programs that are, in fact, slickly produced and heavily manipulated narratives that have little in common with ‘real life.’” It was intended as a transnational narrative of the everyday. Most every day. Sounds exactly like and completely different than Facebook and Twitter.

There was also a “Translocal Channel,” which provided regular audio programming from around the world.35

Precedence, Recension and Ubiquity

A re-telling, a word taken to signify the simultaneous existence of different versions of a narrative within oral, and from now onwards, digital cultures. … The concept of rescension is contraindicative of the notion of hierarchy. A rescension cannot be an improvement, nor can it connote a diminishing of value. A rescension is that version which does not act as a replacement for any other configuration of its constitutive materials. The existence of multiple rescensions is a guarantor of an idea or a work’s ubiquity.36

There is indeed a rich pre-history to our contemporary social media universe. This is important to know and remember. Understood as recensions, not deriviatives or improvements, however, and the ubiquity of social media is indicative of an idea that may be as old as human history. It is our choice how to “rescend” it. Nothing is inevitable.


(1.) Freeman Dyson, Imagined Worlds (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1998), 50.

(2.) Organized on the occasion of the 1998 Museums and the Web Conference, Toronto, Ontario, Canada, April 22–25. Available at http://www.walkerart.org/gallery9/beyondinterface/bi_fr.html.

(p.159) (3.) Remo Campopiano, Craig Harris, Susan Hazan, Greg Lam-Niemeyer, Chris Locke, Pedro Meyer, Randall Packer, Paul Vanouse, and Martha Wilson. Available at http://www.walkerart.org/gallery9/dasc/g9_dasc_bifr.html.

(4.) Available at http://www.easylife.org/homework/. Accessed January 31, 2015.

(5.) The process is described in greater detail at http://www.walkerart.org/gallery9/beyondinterface/bookchin_fr.html. The Homework page via Wayback Machine available at https://web.archive.org/web/20070103070121/http://jupiter.ucsd.edu/~bookchin/finalProject.html. Accessed January 31, 2015.

(6.) Project Tumbleweed, Beyond Interface. Available at http://www.walkerart.org/gallery9/beyondinterface/murphy_fr.html.

(7.) Lutman & Associates, “Like, Link, Share: How Cultural Institutions Are Embracing Digital Technology.” Available at http://www.lutmanassociates.com/blog/2015/1/5/like-link-share-how-cultural-institutions-are-embracing-digital-technology/. Accessed February 2, 2015.

(8.) “Redesign expands walkerart.org from an Information and Promotion Hub to a First-of-its-kind Content Provider,” Walker Art Center press release. Available at http://www.walkerart.org/press/browse/press-releases/2011/walker-art-center-launches-newly-redesigned-w/. Note this redesign took place after my tenure at the Walker.

(9.) Art Entertainment Network. Available at http://aen.walkerart.org/, opened February 12, 2000, in conjunction with the exhibition Let’s Entertain. Available at: http://www.walkerart.org/archive/B/9E13C5FA142230B2616E.htm. Accessed January 31, 2015.

(10.) Steve Dietz, “Curating Net Art: A Field Guide,” in Christiane Paul, ed. New Media in the White Cube and Beyond: Curatorial Models for Digital Art (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2008), 76–84.

(11.) Available at http://aen.walkerart.org/mediatheque/. Accessed January 31, 2015.

(12.) EAT. Available at http://www.walkerart.org/archive/5/A353659586FB138F6164.htm. EAT was also a nod to the pioneering program Experiments in Art and Technology known as E.A.T., launched in 1967 by the engineers Billy Klüver and Fred Waldhauer and the artists Robert Rauschenberg and Robert Whitman. Available at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Experiments_in_Art_and_Technology/. Accessed January 31, 2015.

(14.) Available at http://aen.walkerart.org/artwarez/. Accessed January 31, 2015.

(15.) Available at http://www.walkerart.org/gallery9/webwalker/. Accessed January 21, 2015.

(16.) Angel Borrego Cubero, “Mutant Bridges/Puentes Mutantes.” Available at https://vimeo.com/album/1740556/video/31660455/. Accessed January 31, 2015.

(17.) As Kathy Rae Huffman notes in her review of the net art program presented at Documenta X, “A point of real concern to the ‘Net’ community, the blocking off of the Internet was seen as a (p.160) total disregard for the unique environment that all artists realize once they are online, the ‘network.’” Available at http://www.heise.de/tp/artikel/4/4079/1.html.

(18.) Telematic Connections: The Virtual Embrace was a traveling exhibition organized and circulated by Independent Curators International (ICI), New York, and curated by Steve Dietz. It opened at the San Francisco Art Institute on February 7, 2001, and traveled to four other sites. The website is hosted by the Walker Art Center. Available at http://telematic.walkerart.org/index.html.

(19.) From the introduction to Telematic Connections. Available at http://telematic.walkerart.org/overview/index.html.

(22.) Available at http://notime.arts.ucla.edu/notime3/. Accessed January 31, 2015.

(29.) Tranlocations opened February 9, 2003, at the Walker Art Center in conjunction with How Latitudes Become Form. Available at http://latitudes.walkerart.org/translocations/index.html.

(33.) Raqs Media Collective, “A Concise Lexicon Of/For the Digital Commons.” Available at http://www.raqsmediacollective.net/images/pdf/e65c6ffd-dbe1-4e57-a8b1-9fb087731ef4.pdf.