Black Boxes

As part of my final major project for my MA with UCA Farnham I am including a set of eight hand constructed boxes. If you are in the exhibition space and have scanned the QR code thank you. You are welcome to handle the boxes you can comfortably reach if you wish.

Sadly, the graduation show is not open to the public but hopefully if you don’t get to see it in person the following gives you some sense of part of my show. I will be sharing more of the work next week.

Why Black Boxes?

‘Black Box’ has become a common metaphor for the complexity of the algorithms involved in machine learning. Some describe them as having become too complicated for human comprehension and that their developers no longer know what is happening when they are working.

The main issue with regulating algorithms is what’s often referred to as “the black box problem.” In the process of their creation, machine-learning algorithms become so complex that they become unreadable except by their inputs and outputs. It’s a black box—you put something in, you get something out, but whatever happens inside is a mystery. (tuftsobserver.org)

Why are there eight Black Boxes?

This is a straightforward metaphor for a technological term – there are eight Bits (Binary Digit) in a Byte. (Binary Term) A bit is the smallest unit of computer storage and consists of either a ‘1’ or a ‘0.’ Eight bits gives a single character like an ‘A’ or a ‘B.”

What is in the Boxes?

 (from left to right)

Box One:

‘Found Flora’ is a small scroll of thermal prints taken from the memory of my phone. Using the in built search function I requested a search of my whole album for ‘flowers.’ I seldom tag my photos and was intrigued as to what would emerge. The programme found 479 images that it classified as flowers based on its training. These were taken over the last eight years and seem to be a mix of those in my garden, various bouquets, and from walks I’ve taken. Apart from the inclusion of a few food photography images that include edible flowers the programme has done reasonably well in identifying what a human would recognise as a flower.

The images have been printed on thermal paper as this is not stable and will fade over time much like the flowers themselves. They are in a transient state, neither fully printed nor solely digital. The printer uses heat to transfer the image onto the sensitive paper which also echoes one of the needs for the growth of plants. They remain in my phone in a form of digital petrification, unmoving, not fading as they would in their non-digital form. That is until the next update, or upgrade or careless drop or digital glitch.

Box Two:

‘Floral Notes’ is a flower fold paper construction. It features images from my Machine Learning set that was trained on the work of Rachel Ruysch (1664-1750), generative algorithm computer code and reproductions of Ruysch’s best known paintings. It shows the bringing together of past, present and future. It asks questions of the position of women in art as well as the future of computational creativity. By including lines of binary the intention is to highlight that none of these images are what they seem. Behind each is an array of code that is hidden and unfathomable for many of us.

Box Three:

‘Floral Code’ is a stream of machine learning images trained on Rachel Ruysch’ s paintings. In most cases the structure is recognisable, if a little abstract and childlike. Occasionally, the machine takes a complete tangent and different forms emerge. I have discovered the variations depend on the length of training, the quality of the input, and the size of the original data set.

Box Four:

Women’s voices and places in history are still often unheard or ignored. If Rachel Ruysch stands as a symbol for the achievements of women in art then Ada Lovelace is a powerful representative of women in technology since the very beginning. This set of small photos echoes the many shoeboxes of family photos that were kept across the years but that are much less common now. It is intended as a mini archive that records who they were and how they now all live together in the network.

Box Five:

‘Immateriality’ is a small concertina book designed to surface some of the bits of tech hardware that are working behind the scenes. Often the digital is thought of as ephemeral – in the cloud, ‘out there somewhere’, in the ether. Yet it is made up of a very non-digital infrastructure. The use of debossing surfaces their forms while still leaving them unseen. All we have of their presence is their shapes and structures.

Box Six:

Like the complex algorithms this box is a ‘Mystery”. Is there something in it, or is it empty? Perhaps it could also be a reference to Quantum Physics – is an empty box actually empty? It is intended to be symbolic of the fragility of archives and memory, both biological and technological. What would you put in your empty memory box?

Box Seven:

If you open the lid of ‘Memory’ you will see a small, silver, mirror like disc. You will probably also see a reflection of yourself and the surroundings behind you such is the quality of the mirrored surface. This is a ‘Platter.’ This is the disc on which your magnetic data is stored in a hard disc drive. It is, as the name suggests, a hard disc. Most Hard Disc Drives have two or more platters. It is made from aluminium, glass or ceramic and can be very fragile. HDD failure can result in the loss of your data, which is why we are encouraged to back up to other memory devices or the cloud.

I find them beautiful objects in their own right but they are also a powerful reminder that digital is not immaterial or ephemeral it still consists of a wide range of hardware and most of us have encountered its failure at some point. Looking at the platter stimulates in me a moment of literal and personal reflection.

Box Eight:

This box is full of delicate ‘White Feathers.’ White feathers are thought to be symbolic in various religions and cultures. They are said to represent the presence of angels who may be communicating with you sending encouragement, love, hope and new beginnings. They are also regarded as messages from people who have died, sending a sign they are still with you. Although non digital, in relation to my work they are a powerful metaphor for the belief systems we put in place around life, death and impermanence. They signify the continuing bonds, or desire to remain connected to the dead.