Sunday, January 15, 2012

Happy Birthday Martin Luther King Jr. - Outspoken Zionist

Rev. King and Rabbi Heschel leading Selma Civil Rights March

"This I Believe: Selections from the Writings of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr." pp. 234-235.

You declare, my friend, that you do not hate the Jews, you are merely 'anti-Zionist.' And I say, let the truth ring forth from the high mountain tops, let it echo through the valleys of God's green earth: When people ...criticize Zionism, they mean Jews--this is God's own truth.

Anti-Semitism, the hatred of the Jewish people, has been and remains a blot on the soul of mankind. In this we are in full agreement. So know also this: anti-Zionist is inherently anti-Semitic, and ever will be so.

Why? Because Zionism is nothing less than the dream and ideal of the Jewish people returning to live in their own land.

The Jewish people, the Scriptures tell us, once enjoyed a flourishing Commonwealth in the Holy Land. From this they were expelled by the Roman tyrant, the same Romans who cruelly murdered Our Lord. Driven from their homeland, their nation in ashes, forced to wander the globe, the Jewish people time and again suffered the lash of whichever tyrant happened to rule over them.

The Negro people, my friend, know what it is to suffer the torment of tyranny under rulers not of our choosing. Our brothers in Africa have begged, pleaded, requested--demanded the recognition and realization of our inborn right to live in peace under our own sovereignty in our own country.

How easy it should be, for anyone who holds dear this inalienable right of all mankind, to understand and support the right of the Jewish People to live in their ancient Land of Israel. All men of good will exult in the fulfillment of God's promise, that his People should return in joy to rebuild their plundered land.

This is Zionism, nothing more, nothing less.

If you believe the Jewish people deserve to have an independent state, then you are a Zionist. It's that easy.

Sunday, August 21, 2011

Participate in the Zionist Artists Project

As Israel's right to exist is being challenged, Zionism being maligned, and Israel being attacked by those seeking its destruction, this Zionist Artists Project is most timely and significant.

If you are an artist, contribute an essay about your artwork and life (in Hebrew or English) for the new book: Zionist Artists in a Networked World / אמנים ציונים בעולם מרושת.

Your autobiographical essay should explore your life and art making in relation to Zionism and the ubiquitous networked world that intertwines life in Israel, life as a Jew in the Diaspora, and new directions in the arts emerging globally in our postdigital age.  Chapters written in English should be e-mailed to melalexenberg@yahoo.com and those in Hebrew to amos.safrai@gmail.com. Submit your chapter as a Word document between 4,000 and 6,000 words.

Others who support Israel at this crucial time can become part of this important project by donating funds for the publication of Zionist Artists in a Networked World in Hebrew and English versions. Your name as donor will be acknowledged in the project's publications in both print and electronic forms.  Donations for this project made to Emunah Women of America are tax deductible.
Editors of this project are Amos Safrai, head of Emunah College and Menahem (Mel) Alexenberg, head of the college's School of the Arts, former professor of art and education at Columbia University and Bar Ilan University, research fellow at MIT, and author of The Future of Art in a Postdigital Age: From Hellenistic to Hebraic Consciousness (Intellect Books/University of Chicago Press, 2011).   It is being dedicated to the memory of the late Tzipora Luria z"l who taught Israeli Art at Emunah College and was a distinguished art critic.


The following introductory essay for the book by Alexenberg explores interrelationships between contemporary Zionism, the structure of Jewish consciousness, and art in the networked world of a posdigtial age (See Hebew version להיות אמן ציוני בעולם מרושת at http://www.melalexenberg.com/paper.php?id=32).
Other exemplary essays by Michael Bielicky, Shalom Gorewitz, Menachem Wecker, Gil Troy and Alan Kaufman written for the book are also posted on this blog.

For more information on contributing an essay or on participating as a donor, contact melalexenberg@yahoo.com

Sunday, June 27, 2010

On Being a Zionist Artist in a Networked World

by Menahem (Mel) Alexenberg


The great biblical miracle of liberating one nation of thousands from enslavement in the one country of Egypt after hundreds of years of exile pales in comparison with the Zionist miracle in our time of liberating millions of Jews from persecution, pogroms, and the Holocaust in scores of countries after thousands of years of exile and bringing them home to Israel.  Choosing to be an integral part of this Zionist miracle, unprecedented in world history, offers me enthralling creative opportunities as an artist. 

I draw inspiration from the Zionist challenge of Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook to “renew the old and sanctify the new” as I explore the vibrant interface between the structure of Jewish consciousness, the realization of the Zionist dream in the State of Israel, and new directions in art emerging from postdigital creativity in a networked world.  The wellsprings of my Zionism flows from my Jewish roots and values while the form and content of my art emerges from Jewish thought and experience in a networked world in which of art, science, technology, and culture address each other. 

As an artist born and educated in the United States, I chose to leave a country that I love and that gave me wonderful professional opportunities to be part of the Zionist enterprise that permits me to be more fully immersed at the center of Jewish life.  Zionism seeks to ensure the future and distinctiveness of the Jewish people by fostering Jewish spiritual and cultural values in its historic homeland (World Zionist Organization, Jerusalem Program, 2004).  As a Zionist artist I strive to create both an intimate dialogue with the Jewish people and a lively conversation with people throughout the world.

Art crossing over into a new reality
The biblical story of the Jewish people begins with the journey of Abraham as he crosses over from his all too familiar past to see a fresh vision of a future in a new land.  Indeed, Abraham is called a Hebrew (Ivri) – one who crosses over into a new reality.  Abraham is told: “Go for yourself from your land, from your birthplace, and from your father’s house to the land that I will show you.” (Genesis 12:1)   This passage can also be read as: “Walk with your authentic self away from all the familiar and comfortable places that limit vision to a land where you can freely see.” Here, the dynamic Hebraic mindset is established as new ways of seeing emerge from the integration of our journey to the Land of Israel with our inner quest for spiritual significance.

The personal power of Abraham to leave an obsolete past behind and to cross conceptual boundaries into an unknown future presents a powerful message to me as a Zionist artist living in a democratic Jewish State in a postdigital age.  Today in Israel and at the leading edge of technologically advanced societies worldwide, we are beginning to cross over from the digital culture of the Information Age to a Conceptual Age in which people in all walks of life will succeed most when they behave like artists who integrate left-brain with right-brain thinking.  Industrial Age factory workers and Information Age knowledge workers are being superseded by Conceptual Age creators and empathizers who integrate high tech abilities with high touch and high concept abilities of aesthetic and spiritual significance.1

Art debunking art
Subverting idolatry with a twist of irony has been the mission of the Jews from their very beginning.  As a prelude to the biblical story of Abraham beginning his journey away from his father’s world to the Land of Israel, the Midrash tells that Abraham was minding his father’s idol shop when he took a stick and smashed the merchandise to bits.  He left only the largest idol untouched placing the stick in its hand.  When his father returned, his shock at seeing the scene of devastation grew into fury as he demanded an explanation from his son.  Abraham explained how the largest idol had broken all the other idols.  He could have smashed all the idols without saving one on which to place the blame.  An idol smashing idols gives us clues for creating art to debunk art, art that aims to undermine undue reverence for art, art that challenges the established canon of Western art. 

I am interested in creating art to knock art off its pedestal by displaying a creative skepticism not just towards art’s subjects but also towards its purposes.  In his book on Jewish American painters in the twentieth century, Ori Soltis comments on my series of Digitized Homage to Rembrandt paintings, photomontages, computer-generated etchings, serigraphs, lithographs, and telecommunications events: “Alexenberg appropriates an iconic image from the Christian art tradition: Rembrandt’s angel, who wrestles with Jacob.  But he transforms and distorts it, digitalizing and dismembering it, transforming the normative Western tradition within which he works as he rebels against it.” 2      

Art emerging from Hebraic rather than Hellenistic consciousness
As a Zionist artist, I am joining artists worldwide in liberating art from Hellenistic dominance since its revival in the Renaissance.  The 20th century was a century of modernism that aimed to undermine the Hellenistic definition of art.  The 21st century invites a redefinition of art derived from the Hebraic roots of Western culture rather than its Hellenistic roots. 

"The Greeks and the Jews are the two peoples whose worldviews have most influenced the way we think and act.  Each of them from angles so different has left us with the inheritance of its genius and wisdom.  No two cities have counted more with Mankind than Athens and Jerusalem.  Their messages in religion, philosophy, and art have been the main guiding light in modern faith and culture.” 3  

Three thousand years ago, King David moved the capital of ancient Israel from Hebron to Jerusalem.  Five centuries later during the Golden Age of Athens, the major temples of the Acropolis were built under the leadership of Pericles.  In my MERIWIP: MEditerranean RIm WIkiart Project, a text inviting the participation of people from the 21 Mediterranean rim countries was posted on my art blog http://www.wikiartists.us in the many languages of these countries.  Only Hebrew and Greek, the millennia old languages of the indigenous peoples of the Land of Israel and Greece are still in use and continue to be written with the same two ancient alphabets.       
 
The Hellenistic definition of art as mimesis is reflected in the words for art in contemporary European languages: art in English and French, arte in Spanish, Kunst in German and Dutch, and iskustvo in Russian.  The roots of all these words are related to artificial, artifact, imitation, and phony.  In contrast, the Hebrew word for artist (oman) is spelled AMN with the same letters as the word amen which means truth.  Its feminine form is emunah, faith, and as a verb l’amen means to nurture and educate. 

This ancient Greek view of art as mimesis, imitating nature, arresting the flow of life, has become obsolete as new definitions of art are arising from Jewish thought and action that explore issues of truth, faith, and education as they enrich everyday life.  In the classic book Hebrew Thought Compared with Greek, Hebraic thought  is characterized as being “dynamic, vigorous, passionate, and sometimes quite explosive in kind; correspondingly Greek thinking is static, peaceful, moderate, and harmonious in kind.” 4 That it is the Hebraic rather than the Hellenistic roots of Western culture that is redefining art in a rapidly expanding networked world is argued throughout my books The Future of Art in a Postdigital Age: From Hellenistic to Hebraic Consciousness5 and its Hebrew version Dialogic Art in a Digital World: Four Essays on Judaism and Contemporary Art.6    

Art revealing the power of Hebrew letters in an era of digital and bio technologies 
One of the Zionist enterprise’s greatest accomplishments is reviving Hebrew as the common everyday language uniting Jews who have returned to their homeland speaking scores of different languages. There is an aesthetic and spiritual power in seeing Hebrew letters dancing across storefronts in the Jewish State, flashing across TV screens, Googling and SMSing.   Hebrew letters have a special meaning for the artist.   The mishkan’s artist, Betzalel, is said to have had the divine secret of forging combinations of the 22 Hebrew letters to create new worlds. The digital era makes this kabbalistic notion of artistic creativity through making permutations of bits of information more than a quaint legend.  It is computer science rather than mysticism, physics rather than metaphysics that lets us reveal in our times this ancient wisdom.  All the multitude of words, sounds and images that we can access today on the Internet, CDs, and DVDs are encoded in bits strung together in groupings of eight called bytes. The 256 bit permutations in one byte are in turn grouped into billions of combinations that we perceive as a web site, a computer game, a text, a song, or a movie.

Jewish tradition sees the 22 sacred Hebrew letters as profound, primal, spiritual forces, the raw material of Creation.  The numerous alternative arrangements of the letters in words results in different blends of cosmic spiritual forces that finds a parallel in natural systems where different numbers of protons, neutrons, and electrons form the atoms of each of the 92 different elements. These atoms, in turn, combine into molecules, and molecules into supersized molecules like DNA in which the code of all life’s forms is written with only four letters: A-T, T-A, and C-G, G-C.   The interplay between combinations and permutations of Hebrew letters in the spiritual realm, of atoms and molecules in the physical realm, and bits and bytes in the realm of digital media, provides raw materials for creating artworks that generate a lively dialog between the Jewish past and Israel’s future as a world center of digital and bio technologies. 

Art revealing the spiritual dimensions of everyday life in the Land of Israel 
The great transgression of ten of the leaders of the Israelite tribes who were charged to spy out the Land of Israel after their exodus from Egypt was their inability to discern the difference between hard work as slaves in Egypt and hard work building their own land.   Only Joshua and Calev met the challenge.  The Torah tells us that Calev of the tribe of Judah had “a different spirit” (Numbers: 14:24).  Unlike the others, he was able to make the paradigm shift to recognize that the challenge of living in the Land of Israel was to see spirituality emerging from all aspects of life. 

Ten of the spies chose to remain in the desert where they could live a totally spiritual existence learning Torah all day.  They would not have to work at all since food was delivered daily for free at the opening of their tents.  In the Land of Israel, they would have to grow their own food, build houses, fight enemies, and collect garbage which seemed to them like returning to the slavery they had just left.  These ten spies were sentenced to death in the desert for their inability to see that the spiritual arises from the quality of one’s encounter with the material world.  The descendents of Calev’s tribe of Judea are almost all of the Jews who have the great privilege of returning to our homeland and rebuilding it 3500 years later.  Most of the descendents of the ten spies who lacked “a different spirit” have disappeared.

Calev’s great-grandson, the prototypic Jewish artist Betzalel, sets a direction for today’s Zionist artists by having created an environment that invites holiness into our concrete world – “God walks in the midst of the camp…therefore shall your camp be holy” (Deuteronomy 23:15).  I invited my students at the School of the Arts at Emuna College in Jerusalem and at Ariel University Center of Samaria to reveal holiness by photographing divine light emanating from their everyday life in Israel.  I created a blog to show their work: http://www.photographgod.com.         

We can appreciate Calev’s alternative viewpoint through the 20th century experience of the Rebbe of Sadegora, Rabbi Avraham Freidman (1884-1961). The Nazis attempted to humiliate the Rebbe in the eyes of his Hasidim by forcing him at gunpoint to work all day sweeping streets and collecting garbage and at night to march waving a Nazi flag.   The Rebbe survived the Holocaust and moved to Tel Aviv where he rose early every morning in the week before Israel Independence Day to join the city’s sanitation workers in sweeping streets and collecting garbage.   At night, he could be seen walking through the streets of Tel Aviv waving the Israeli flag.  He marveled at the great privilege he had to keep his city clean and to honor his nation’s flag.

Art conveying its message through form and medium
At the beginning of the 20th century, the first Zionist artists Ephriam Lilien and Boris Schatz, the artists who participated in the exhibition at the 5th Zionist Congress in 1901, and the theoreticians of culture Martin Buber and Ahad Ha’am saw Zionist art only in terms of content and iconography.7 Landscapes of the Land of Israel, Jewish subjects, and biblical scenes idealizing the Bedouin types as if they were ancient Israelites were the content of their artwork expressed in alien European forms and media.   These first Zionist artists did not liberate themselves from the Hellenistic definition of art that was plastered over their Jewish consciousness by centuries of indoctrination living in Europe. 

The significance of form and medium in Jewish life is so strong that we only read the Torah portion in synagogue from a scroll hand-written on parchment.  If we have no Torah scroll, we read nothing at all rather than read the identical content from a Hebrew Bible printed in a rectangular codex book form.  Tradition teaches how the Israelites were enslaved in the malben, which means both brickyard and rectangle. The Torah trapped in a malben between two book covers cannot convey a message of liberation expressed by a free-flowing spiral scroll.  The heart (spelled LB in Hebrew) of the Torah is the place where the last letter L in the word yisrael (Israel) is linked to the first letter B in b’reshit (In the beginning) in an endless flow.  Both changing form and medium radically changes the message.  A Torah written on Japanese rice paper is bizarre and one written on pigskin would be the ultimate anti-Semitic statement.  We can recognize the life-affirming parallel between the double spiral of the Torah scroll and the DNA molecule in which all life forms are encoded. 

To explore form and media in Jewish thought and experience, I invited fellow artists at MIT’s Center for Advanced Visual Studies to collaborate with me in creating LightsOROT: Spiritual Dimensions of the Electronic Age, 8 an exhibition for Yeshiva University Museum. Creating art in a digital age in a networked world offers Zionist artists unprecedented opportunities to invent alternative art forms and explore new media confluent with the structure of Jewish consciousness.     

Art imitating the Creator rather than the creation 
I am interested in being an active partner of the Creator of the universe in the on-going creation of new worlds.  As a Jewish artist, it is not the Hellenistic vision of a complete and ideal nature to be copied that is the primary artistic value, but it is the emulation of the process of creation itself that is valued.  Therefore, I studied in depth the creative process in art and science from a psychodynamic point of view that I present in my book Aesthetic Experience in Creative Process.9

Two millennia ago, the Roman governor over the Land of Israel asked Rabbi Akiva, “Which are greater and more beautiful, human creations or God’s?”  The governor was disturbed by the rabbi’s response that human creation is more exalted than divine creation.  While the Roman was questioning the rabbi’s unexpected response, the rabbi served a plate of wheat grains to the Roman and took cakes for himself.  The puzzled Roman asked, “Why do you take cakes for yourself while you give me raw grains of wheat?”  Rabbi Akiva answered, “You prefer God’s creation.  I prefer the creations of human hands!”

Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook, first Chief Rabbi of the Land of Israel and founder of Yeshivat Mercaz ha’Rav in Jerusalem, provides a poetic manifesto for the Zionist artist derived from the deep structure of Jewish consciousness:           

"Whoever is endowed with the soul of a creator must create works of imagination and thought, for the flame of the soul rises by itself and one cannot impede it on its course….  The creative individual brings vital, new light from the higher source where originality emanates to the place where it has not previously been manifest, from the place that “no bird of prey knows, nor has the falcon’s eye seen.” (Job 28:7), "that no man has passed, nor has any person dwelt" (Jeremiah 2:6)"10
                                                                                   
Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik, who served as president of the Mizrachi Zionists of America, proposes that the dream of creation is the central idea in Jewish consciousness – the idea of the importance of human partnership with the Almighty in creating new worlds.  He writes:
           
"This longing for creation and the renewal of the cosmos is embodied in all of Judaism’s goals….  If a man wishes to attain the rank of holiness, he must become a creator of worlds.  If a man never creates, never brings into being anything new, anything original, then he cannot be holy unto his God.  That passive type who is derelict in fulfilling his task of creation cannot become holy.  Creation is the lowering of transcendence into the midst of our turbid, coarse, material world." 11

I attempt to act as partner of the Creator during six days of the week.  However, I stop my creative work one day each week and step back to admire and honor the handiwork of the Creator of the universe.  This Sabbath Day is both a Non-Art Day and an Ecology Day.  Emulating Betzalel and his artistic collaborators who stopped building the mishkan on Shabbat, I stop my artistic activities on the seventh day to celebrate Non-Art Day.  Indeed, all Shabbat observance is defined by artistic activity, by the 39 craft categories involved in building the mishkan.  From when the sun sets on Friday evening to the time stars dot the sky on Saturday night, I celebrate Non-Art Day as well as Ecology Day by leaving the world they way I got it.  I replenish my soul on Shabbat so that on the eighth day I can resume with renewed energies the role of partner with the Creator in tikun olam, actively making the world a better place for all humanity. 

Art engaging the Torah in a playful spirit
As an artist, I engage the Torah in creative play through both my conceptual and aesthetic explorations. The Torah itself teaches us to approach it in a playful spirit.  In Psalm 119:174, we read: “Your Torah is my plaything (sha’ashua).”  Sha’ashua is a toy to engage children in play.  In Proverbs 8:30, 31, King Solomon speaks in the voice of the Torah: “I [the Torah] was the artist’s plan.  I was His [God’s] delight every day, playing before Him at all times, playing in the inhabited areas of His earth, my delights are with human beings.”  This translation from the Hebrew original is based on the ancient wisdom on the first page of Midrash Rabba.  God as the master artist played creatively with the Torah, His plan for creating the universe.  Midrash Rabba uses these two verses from Proverbs to explain the first words of the Torah, “In the beginning God created.”  God first created “Beginning” referring to the Torah as an open-ended blueprint for creating the world.  We learn this from an earlier verse, Proverbs 8:22, “God made me [the Torah] as the beginning of His way, before His deeds of yore.”  In human emulation of God’s delight, we are invited to play with the Torah as we create new worlds.

Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook wrote a letter of congratulations on the founding of the Betzalel Art School in Jerusalem in 1906.  By way of allegory, he refers to the revival of Jewish art and aesthetics after two thousand years of exile as a child in a coma who awakes calling for her doll. 

"The pleasant and beloved child, the delightful daughter, after a long and forlorn illness, with a face as pallid as plaster, bluish lips, fever burning like a fiery furnace, and convulsive shaking and trembling, behold!  She has opened her eyes and her tightly sealed lips, her little hands move with renewed life, her thin pure fingers wander hither and thither, seeking their purpose; her lips move and almost revert to their normal color, and as if through a medium a voice is heard: “Mother, Mother, the doll, give me the doll,  the dear doll, which I have not seen for so long.”  A voice of mirth and a voice of gladness, all are joyous, the father, the mother, the brothers and sisters, even the elderly man and woman who, because of their many years, have forgotten their children’s games." 12

Rabbi Kook saw artists at work as a clear sign of the rebirth of the Jewish people in its homeland.  Their playful spirit nurturing sensitivity for beauty “will uplift depressed souls, giving them a clear and illuminating view of the beauty of life, nature, and work.” 13

Art educating through visual midrash
Not only are the Hebrew words for 'artist' and 'educating' related, but the Torah teaches that Betzalel and Oholiav are divinely endowed with artistic talent cooupled with the talent to teach (Exodus 35:30-34).  Creating art can be an alternative method of Torah study that beautifies the mitzvah of study through creating visual midrash.  Midrash is the unique Jewish literary form that combines commentary, legend and narrative explanations of biblical texts.  In a sense, midrash fills the spaces between the written words to reveal deeper meanings of sciptual passages.  Art as visual midrash provides fresh commentaries on biblical texts through miltimedia experiences that extend the verbal exploration of text into visual realms.  'Context' in is primal meaning is 'with text'14 while context is the defining characteristic of post modern art.15

In order to better understand the cultural context of my values as a Zionist artist in an era of globalization, I invited renowned art educators worldwide to redefine art and art education at the interdisciplinary interface where scientific inquiry and new technologies shape aesthetic and cultural values – local and global.  This inquiry resulted in my book Educating Artists for the Future: Learning at the Intersections of Art, Science, Technology, and Culture.16 

Art educating through community involvement
The Torah describes two prototypic Jewish artists – Betzalel and Oholiav.   “See, I have called by name: Betzalel ben Uri ben Hur, of the tribe of Judah.  I have filled him with a divine spirit, with wisdom, understanding, and knowledge, and with the talent for all types of craftsmanship” (Exodus 31:2).  The literal translation of this artist’s name is: “In the Divine Shadow son of Fiery Light son of Freedom.”  It honors the artist’s passion and freedom of expression.  The Torah describes Betzalel’s partner, “I have assigned with him Oholiav ben Ahisamakh of the tribe of Dan, and I have placed wisdom in the heart of every naturally talented person” (Exodus 31:6).    Oholiav’s full name means “My Tent of Reliance on Father, Son, and My Brother,” integrating the contemporary with its past and future.  Father, son, and brother stand together with the artist in a common tent in mutual support of one another.  Betzalel represents the psychological power of the artist and Oholiav the sociological impact on community.  Working together, they create a shared environment of spiritual power.

My wife, artist Miriam Benjamin, and I collaborated with elders and youth from different ethnic communities in creating Legacy Thrones, monumental works of public art in Miami.17 In Israel, we created an Institute for Arts and Jewish Life in Yeroham to educate art teachers for community centers.  We lived in Yeroham for seven years where we taught students from throughout Israel and the Diaspora to integrate the creative energies of Betzalel with the impact on community of Oholiav.  

Art revealing beauty in processes of liberation and creation  
Zionism and the visual arts interface as they emerge from the core values of Judaism as expressed in the Ten Commandments, which begins:  “I am YHVH (Was-Is-Will Be), your God, who has taken you out of the Land of Egypt (Narrow Straits), out of the House of Slavery.  Do not have any other gods before Me.  You shall not make yourself any carved statue or picture of anything in the heaven above, on the earth below, or the water beneath the land.” (Exodus 20:1-14, repeated in Deuteronomy 5:6-18) 

The biblical divine name YHVH is associated with beauty (tiferet) and the historic process of attaining freedom from slavery. YHVH is a verb, not a noun, combining the Hebrew words for was, is and will be, a process in time.  YHVH is both the Liberator from narrowness and the Creator of the heaven, earth, and water.   The biblical name for Egypt, mitzrayim, literally means from narrow straits, to teach that national liberation is the process of attaining independence from narrow-mindedness to experiencing expansive freedom in the Land of Israel.   Indeed, when Moses sent scouts to explore the Land of Israel from the wilderness of Tzin to Rehov (Numbers 13:21). Joshua sent scouts four decades later who arrived at the house of Rahav (Joshua 1:1).  Rahav and Rehov mean wide expanses.  Having left slavery in the narrow straits the Israelites headed toward the freedom of wide expanses in their own land.   
      
God is One, both Liberator from narrow straits and Creator of the wide expanses of heaven, earth, and water.  Was-Is-Will Be is the Liberator from ancient Egypt’s cult of the dead and the Creator of a world overflowing with vibrant life. As a Jewish artist, I avoid creating art that freezes the lively process of creation and the dynamic process of liberation, arresting them in fixed images. I avoid stilling life meant to flow freely or solidifying in stone that which is in flux. 

The Israelites exodus from Egypt’s narrow straits, from the land of the Book of the Dead and its immovable pyramids led to a process of liberation in the wide expanse of the desert, where they received of the Book of Life (torat chaim), and built a Lego-like moveable mishkan deconstructed and reconstructed numerous times during their four-decade journey.  The Zionist challenge then as now is to settle in the Land of Israel with the expansive viewpoint of movement in the open desert without regressing to the narrow viewpoint engendered by a sedentary mentality.  It is a land that devourers yoshveha, its inhabitants who sit still (Numbers 13:32) rather than those who are on the go (Genesis 12:1).   Those residents of the Land of Israel who are not passive, but actively create movement, growth, and change are not in danger of being consumed.

An authentic Zionist arts movement encourages artists to create transformative artworks and adventuresome artforms that not only explore the intersections of Zionism and the arts, but reveal beauty in the dynamic processes of liberation and creation.  Theodor Herzl wrote in his visionary Zionist novel Altneuland (Old-New Land):

"Beauty and wisdom do not die because their creators die.  Just as the conservation of energy is self-evident, so must we infer that there is conservation of beauty and wisdom…. Have the sayings of our ancient sages perished? No, their flame burns brightly, even if in happy times it is less clearly visible than in dark days, like all flames.  And what should we learn from this?  That we should strive to increase beauty and wisdom in this earth, as long as we live." 18

Art expressing love for the land of Israel
Rabbi Kook stresses the intrinsic bond between the Land of Israel and the Jewish People that extends to a call to delight and rejoice in the beauty of the land:            
           
"The Land of Israel is not something external, not an external national asset, a means to the end of collective solidarity and the strengthening of the nation’s existence, physical or even spiritual.  The Land of Israel is an essential unit bound by the bond-of-life to the People, united by inner characteristics to its existence."19  

"See the splendor of an attractive land, the splendor of the Carmel and the Sharon, the splendor of the pleasant and beautiful azure skies, the magnificence of the clear, pure, temperate air that reigns in its majesty and glory.  Delight and rejoice in this desirable, fair and pleasing land, a land of life, a land whose air is the wellspring of the spirit.  How beautiful and how graceful she is!" 20  

Some of my earliest memories form the beginnings of my education as a Zionist artist.  I remember sitting on the counter in my grandfather’s Hebrew bookshop on Coney Island Avenue in Brooklyn in the 1940’s surrounded by images of the Land of Israel in the calendars, postcards, posters, and metal relief pictures from the Bezalel workshops in Jerusalem that he sold.  I would often watch him carving mezuzot from mother-of-pearl and olive wood imported from Israel.  My grandfather, Rabbi Shlomo Zalman Kahn, left the Telz Yeshiva in Lithuania in 1900 to participate in the 4th Zionist Congress in London never to return.  He settled to Boston where he was married and my mother was born.  When he passed away four years before his Zionist dream was realized in 1948, my grandmother came to live with us.  When I came home from school, she spread out the Yiddish newspaper on the kitchen table for us to sit together and search for pictures of Israel which we would cut out and paste in scrap books.  On quiet Shabbat afternoons, we would often sit together immersed in a virtual journey to the Land of Israel through our scrap books. 

When I first came to Israel in 1969, I sensed I had been there many times before.  I had fallen in love years before in New York with Israel’s diverse landscape, from the green hills of the Galilee to the Negev desert where my son and his family now live, from Petah Tikva where I live to Jerusalem where I work, from the Dead Sea to the coral reefs of Eilat, from the surf at the Tel Aviv beach to the Western Wall, and from mountainous Tzfat to the Ramon Crater.  This love of the land urges Zionist artists to explore, articulate, express, and document the landscape, from its gentle beauty to its overwhelming magnificence, and to create earth art and ecological artworks to honor the land. 

Ezra Orion organized an environmental art event in which ten Israeli artists were invited to create works of earth art at Sodom at the southern end of the Dead Sea on Purim 5744/1984.  I appropriated a hill blocking the wadi between the mountain ranges of Moab and Edom to create an earth artwork relating Sodom to Purim:
http://www.melalexenberg.com/artworks/Sodom.doc.  

Art creating dialog between Israel and the Diaspora
Although living in Israel by a Jewish calendar, speaking Hebrew, walking on the soil of our ancestors is the Zionist ideal, the networked world provides unprecedented opportunities for Jewish artists in the homeland and those in the Diaspora to creatively interact with each other. Internet 2.0 generates alternative frameworks for global communities to form and flourish.  Zionist artists can form virtual communities spreading rhizome-like across the surface of the globe.  Israel becoming the central node in these worldwide communities is the realization of the dream of the cultural Zionists led by Ahad Ha’am at the First Zionist Congress in 1897.  In addition, artists share their creative works through their websites, blogs, YouTube, Facebook, Rhizome, Second Life, etc.  Particularly vital to the Zionist future is creative dialog and collaboration between the two largest Jewish communities.  Through inspired partnerships between artists in Israel, the world center of Jewish culture, and artists in the USA, the world center of artistic innovation, a new Zionist energy will emerge and flourish.

In addition to energizing the creative dialog between Jews in Israel and United States, it is important to the Zionist enterprise in a networked world to establish a creative dialog between Israelis and Americans of diverse backgrounds.  To realize this extended dialog, I created a work of participatory blogart ‘JerUSAlem-USA’ linking the twenty places in the United States called ‘Jerusalem’ with the original in Israel: http://jerusalem-usa.blogspot.com. In this collaborative artwork, Americans send photographs of Jerusalems in USA to which Israelis respond with matched images of Jerusalem in Israel.  This digital dialog creates an interactive network of people with shared values that deepens friendships between them. The Lubavicher Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, teaches:

"The divine purpose of the present information revolution, which gives an individual unprecedented power and opportunity, is to allow us to share knowledge – spiritual knowledge – with each other, empowering and unifying individuals everywhere.  We need to use today’s interactive technology not just for business or leisure but to interlink as people – to create a welcome environment for the interaction of our souls, our hearts, our visions."21

Art confronting hatred, bigotry, racism, terrorism, and cults of death with moral outrage  
In the tradition of Picasso’s Guernica, I have created a work of webart http://www.futureholocaustmemorials.org to warn the world of Iran’s quest for a nuclear bomb to “wipe Israel off the map.” Just as the world’s acquiesce to Hitler’s raining bombs on the Basque village Guernica gave him the license to proceed with preparing for WW II and exterminating the Jews of Europe on his way to global conquest, the world’s indifference to the thousands of rockets launched against Israel by Iran’s proxy armies, Hamas and Hizbullah, are empowering Ahmedinejad to incinerate the Jews of Israel as a prelude to the Islamist’s global jihad.  

My webart cries out “Never Again!” to the apathetic world of nations that did little to prevent the murder of six million Jews in Europe or collaborated with the Nazis in their extermination.  It issues a powerful warning to these same nations now pressuring the Jews, the indigenous people of the Land of Israel, to surrender its historic heartland for establishing a Palestinian terrorist state.  It exposes the fact that the majority of the Arabs living in Judea, Samaria, and Gaza freely elected the Iranian proxy Hamas thugs whose genocidal charter reads:  Israel, by virtue of its being Jewish and of having a Jewish population, defies Islam and the Muslims…. Muslims will fight the Jews…for the sake of Allah! I will assault and kill, assault and kill, assault and kill.” 

Art promoting an aesthetic peace between the Jewish State and its neighbors
Pursuing peace is a central value of Judaism.  The Hebrew word for peace, shalom, is mentioned 237 times in the Hebrew Bible and scores of times in the Jewish liturgy. Peace is offered in Israel’s Declaration of Independence: “We extend our hand to all neighboring states and their peoples in an offer of peace and good neighborliness, and appeal to them to establish bonds of cooperation and mutual help with the sovereign Jewish people settled in its own land.”

Despite virulent Islamist anti-Semitism and genocidal aims, Israel continues to seek peace.  However, all political processes and road maps from Oslo to Obama are doomed to failure because the Arab conflict is not political but rather an aesthetic problem that calls for an artistic solution.   In my artwork Aesthetic Peace Plan for the Middle East exhibited at the Jewish Museum of Prague22 and on the Internet at http://aestheticpeace.blogspot.com, I propose an aesthetic solution that creates a new metaphor for peace derived from Islamic art and thought.

Islamic art teaches Arabs to see their world as a continuous geometric pattern that extends across North Africa and the Middle East.  They see Israel as a blemish that disrupts the pattern.  It is viewed as an alien presence that they have continually tried to eliminate through war, terrorism, and political action.  A perceptual shift that can lead to a genuine peace can be derived from Islamic art and thought.  In Islamic art, a uniform geometric pattern is purposely disrupted by the introduction of a counter-pattern that demonstrates that human creation is less than perfect.  Since Islam believes that only Allah creates perfection, rug weavers from Islamic lands intentionally weave a patch of dissimilar pattern to break the symmetry of their rugs.

Peace will come from a fresh metaphor in which the Islamic world sees Israel’s existence as Allah’s will.  A shift in viewpoint where Israel is perceived as the necessary counter-pattern in the overall pattern of the Islamic world will usher in an era of peace.  The Koran (Sura 17:104) teaches that the ingathering of the Jewish people into its historic homeland in the midst of the Islamic world is the fulfillment of Mohammed’s prophecy: “And we said to the Children of Israel, ‘scatter and live all over the world…and when the end of the world is near we will gather you again into the Promised Land.’”           
                   
Art combining pride in roots with an overview of the world as seen by others 
The ingathering of the Jewish people into their ancestral homeland of Israel at the time that many other peoples are being dispersed into new host countries would seem to be a countertrend to the powerful forces of globalization.  However, the rebirth of the Jewish State and the ingathering of the exiles plant roots that provide the sure footing required to play the fast-moving globalization game.  Sixty years after its rebirth, Israel has emerged as a major player in the global world of hi-tech. 

Vibrant Zionist art draws on the creative tension and energetic interplay between subjugation and freedom, between narrow unidirectional thought and open-ended systems thought, between spiritual and material realms, between traditional values and scientific and technological development, between war and peace, between hatred and brotherhood, between local action and global outreach, and between being rooted in one’s own culture and exploring others.  This tension and interplay is the stimulus and raw material for creating art to revitalize Jewish culture while offering fresh directions for the growth of art globally.

Art that enables the mundane to rise up from the Land of Israel and touch the Divine
I conclude this essay on being a Zionist artist in a networked with Rabbi Yohanan's words in Tractate Taanit in the Babylonian Talmud that God declared: "I will not come to the heavenly Jerusalem before coming to the earthly Jerusalem."  As Zionist artists, my wife and I have the great privilege to explore the dynamic interface between aesthetic and spiritual energies revealed in our earthly encounters with everyday life in the Land of Israel. 

The networked world offers the blog as an ideal Jewish art form. A blog is a web log, an active diary of a living process, rather than still life entombed in a golden frame. Blogart is a new postdigital art form that my wife, artist Miriam Benjamin, and I use to celebrate our 52nd year of marriage living in Petah Tikva (Opening to Hope). We celebrate our love by collaborating on our "Torah Tweets" blogart project http://torahtweets.blogspot.com.  

During each of the 52 weeks of our 52nd year, we post six photographs reflecting our life together with a Torah tweet text that relates the weekly Torah reading to our lives, past and present.  The seventh photograph does not exist since Shabbat is a Non-Art Day on which we tune out, turn off, unplug, and honor the Creator rather than our creations.      

The blog creates a dialogue between images and text.  The images are observations of spirituality in our everyday life.  The text is composed as "tweets," sentences of not more that 140 characters required by the Twitter social networking website. 140 is the numerical value (gematria) of the Hebrew word hakel, which means to gather people together to share a Torah learning experience as in Leviticus 8:3 and Deuteronomy 4:10.

The introductory quotations that we posted as the top blogspot gadget emphasize the centrality of down-to-earth spirituality in Judaism from the viewpoints of Talmud scholar Rabbi J. B. Soloveitchik, Hasidic Rebbe M. M. Schneerson, and American novelist E. L. Doctorow.  Like instruments in an orchestra, A. Y. Kook, Chief Rabbi of the Land of Israel at the beginning of the 20th century, sees individual actions combine into a symphony of Jews acting together as a nation in their own land to empower the mundane to touch the Divine.  This is the essence of the Zionist challenge.  

"Judaism does not direct its glaze upward but downward ... does not aspire to a heavenly transcendence, nor does it seek to soar upon the wings of some abstract, mysterious spirituality. It fixes its gaze upon concrete, empirical reality permeating every nook and cranny of life. The marketplace, the street, the house, the mall, the banquet hall, all constitute the backdrop of religious life.23 ///// It is not enough for the Jew to rest content with his own spiritual ascent, the elevation of his soul in closeness to G-d, he must strive to draw spirituality down into the world and into every part of it - the world of his work and his social life - until not only do they not distract him from his pursuit of G-d, but they become a full part of it.24 ///// If there is a religious agency in our lives, it has to appear in the manner of our times. Not from on high, but a revelation that hides itself in our culture, it will be ground-level, on the street, it'll be coming down the avenue in the traffic, hard to tell apart from anything else.25 ///// The first message that Moses chose to teach the Jewish people as they were about to enter the Land of Israel was to fuse heaven to earth, to enable the mundane to rise up and touch the Divine, the spiritual to vitalize the physical, not only as individuals but as an entire nation." 26

Notes
1 Daniel H. Pink, A Whole New Mind: Moving from the Information Age to the Conceptual Age.  (New York: Riverhead Books, 2006). 
2 Ori Z. Soltes, Fixing the World: Jewish American Painters in the Twentieth Century (Hanover, NH: University Press of New England and Brandeis University Press, 2003), p. 131
3 Winston Churchill, History of the Second World War, Vol. V (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1951), p. 532.
4 Thorleif Boman, Hebrew Thought Compared with Greek (New York: Norton, 1960), p. 27.
5 Mel Alexenberg, The Future of Art in a Postdigital Age: From Hellenistic to Hebraic Consciousness (Bristol and Chicago: Intellect Books/University of Chicago Press, 2011).
6 Menahem Alexenberg, Dialogic Art in a Digital World: Four Essays on Judaism and Contemporary Art (Jerusalem: Rubin Mass House, 2008) [Hebrew].
7 Haim Finkelstein. "Lilien and Zionism," Assaph: Studies in Art History, Section B, No.3 (1998) pp. 195-216, accessed 25 January 2009:
http://www.tau.ac.il/arts/projects/PUB/assaph-art/assaph3/articles_assaph3/11finkelstein.pdf
and Gilya Gerda Schmidt, The Art and Artists of the Fifth Zionist Congress 1901: Heralds of a New Age (Syracuse: Syracuse University Press, 2003).
8 Mel Alexenberg and Otto Piene, introduction by Rudolf Arnheim, LightsOROT (Cambridge, MA: MIT Center for Advanced Visual Studies and New York: Yeshiva University Museum, 1988).
9 Mel Alexenberg, Aesthetic Experience in Creative Process (Ramat Gan, Israel: Bar Ilan University Press, 1981).
10 Abraham Isaac Kook, Abraham Isaac Kook: Lights of Holiness, translated by Ben Zion Bokser (New York: The Classics of Western Spirituality. Paulist Press, 1978), p. 216.
11 Joseph B. Soloveitchik, Halakhic Man, translated by Lawrence Kaplan (Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society, 1983), pp. 99, 108.
12 Abraham Isaac Kook, Rav A. Y. Kook: Selected Letters, translated by Tzvi Feldman (Ma’aleh Adumim, Israel: Ma’aliot Publications of Yeshivat Birkat Moshe, 1986), p.191.
13 Kook. Rav A. Y. Kook: Selected Letters, p. 193.
14 Arthur Green, Seek My Face, Speak My Name (Northvale, NJ and London: Jason Aronson, 1992), p. 138.
15 Arthur C. Danto, Beyond the Brillo Box: The Visual Arts in Post-historical Perspective (New York: Farrar, Straus, Giroux, 1992).
16 Mel Alexenberg (editor), Educating Artists for the Future: Learning at the Intersections of Art, Science, Technology, and Culture (Bristol and Chicago: Intellect Books/University of Chicago Press, 2008).
17 Mel Alexenberg and Miriam Benjamin, “Legacy Thrones: Intergenerational Collaboration in Creating Public Art” in Angela M. La Porte (editor), Community Connections: Intergenerational Links in Art Education (Reston, VA: National Art Education Association, 2004), pp. 115-128.
18 Theodore Herzl, Old New Land, translated by Lotta Levensohn (Princeton: M. Wiener, 1997), p. 262.   Original German edition published as Altneuland in 1902.
19 Abraham Isaac Kook, Orot, translated by Bezalel Naor (Northvale, NJ and London: Jason Aronson, 1993), p. 89.
20 Kook, Rav A. Y. Kook: Selected Letters, p. 239.
21 Menachem Mendel Schneerson, Toward a Meaningful Life: The Wisdom of the Rebbe, adapted by Simon Jacobson.  New York: William Morrow, 1995, 191.
22 Michaela Hajkova, Mel Alexenberg: Cyberangels – Aesthetic Peace Plan for the Middle East (Prague: Robert Guttmann Gallery, Jewish Museum of Prague, 2004) [exhibition catalog]
23 Soloveitchik, Halakhic Man. p. 92, 94.
24 Menahem M. Schneerson, Torah Studies, adapted by Jonathan Sacks. London: Lubavitch Foundation, 1986, p. 320.
25 E. L. Doctorow, City of God. New York: Plume Book/Penguin Putnam, 2001, p. 254.
26 Gideon Weitzman, Sparks of Light, Northvale, NJ and Jerusalem: Jason Aronson, 1999, p. 248.

About the Author
Menahem (Mel) Alexenberg is head of the School of the Arts at Emuna College in Jerusalem and professor emeritus at Ariel University where he taught the courses: “Art in Jewish Thought” and “Judaism and Zionism: Values and Roots.”  He is former professor of art and education at Columbia University and Bar Ilan University, head of the art department at Pratt Institute, dean at New World School of the Arts in Miami, and research fellow at MIT’s Center for Advanced Visual Studies. His artwork exploring digital technology and global systems are in the collections of more than forty museums worldwide.  He is author of The Future of Art in a Postdigital Age: From Hellenistic to Hebraic Consciousness (Intellect Books/University of Chicago Press), Aesthetic Experience in Creative Process (Bar Ilan University Press), in Hebrew Dialogic Art in a Digital World: Four Essays on Judaism and Contemporary Art (Jerusalem: Rubin Mass House) and editor of Educating Artists for the Future: Learning at the Intersections of Art, Science, Technology and Culture (Intellect Books/University of Chicago Press). Alexenberg blogs at: http://www.artiststory.com/, http://torahtweets.blogapot.com/, http://www.future-of-art.com/, http://zionistartists.blogspot.com/, and http://jerUSAlem-usa.blogspot.com    

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

Media Golem: Between Prague and ZKM

 by Michael Bielicky

Michael Bielicky, Norman M. Klien and Mel Alexenberg at ZKM
When I was four or five years old, my mother took me to visit the famous Old-New Synagogue of Prague. I ran around and suddenly climbed up onto a big chair and sat on it.  A group of men nervously hurried to remove me from the chair. Many years later, I found out that it was the chair of the great Rabbi Judah Loew ben Bezalel, the MaHaRaL of Prague. The synagogue stringently observed a rule that nobody should sit on this honored chair after the esteemed rabbi passed away four centuries ago. Perhaps it was this early experience that indirectly shaped my artistic interests in virtual environments.

A few years later, I read about Rabbi Loew in the chapter “Golem from Prague, Golem from Rechovot” in Gerschon Scholem’s book Judaica.  The rabbi was a great scholar and mystic who possessed an encyclopedic knowledge. He is both the spiritual and biological forefather of the renowned aerodynamics and astrophysics expert Theodor von Karman. Von Karman recognized Rabbi Loew as the first genius of applied mathematics.  In other sources, I learned that Rabbi Loew was not only credited with having created the Golem, an artificial human being, but was honored for his experiments with the camera obscura and with the magic lantern.  These experiments impressed Emperor Rudolf II so much that he invited him to join a circle of alchemists, astronomers and artists whose members included scientists Johannes Kepler and Tycho Brahe and artist Giuseppe Archimboldo who painted human heads made of fruits, vegetables and sea creatures. It is said that Rabbi Loew accomplished a miracle one night as Rudolf II was seeking him out in his home. The rabbi transformed his house into a palace by using his magic lantern to project painted pictures of the interior of the Prague castle Hradschin onto his own empty walls.  This gave the emperor the illusion that he was in a palace. One can, in this context, speak of a medieval virtual reality artwork. 
           
I was seven years old at the end of April 1961, two weeks after the historical moment when the first human flew in space.  My older brother and I were standing on the curbstone on the main street in our Prague neighborhood.  An open limousine suddenly appeared with Cosmonaut Yuri Gagarin waving to the crowds.  As a small-sized person in a dense crowd not knowing in which direction to look, I missed seeing this hero of all humanity.  Although I missed seeing him, I felt the vibrant energies of the cheering crowds for a long time afterwards.

Four years later, cheering crowds standing along the curb greeted Pope Paul VI waving from an open limousine driving down Fifth Avenue.  In the crowd was a Korean man who had recently arrived in New York.  He was holding the first black and white portable video camera shooting the scene. This young man was destined to become the father of video art.  His name was Nam June Paik.  I had the good fortune to be his student twenty years later only because of my escape to the West in 1969 after the Soviet tanks invaded the former Czechoslovakia. 

In 1981, I drove a horse and open carriage down Fifth Avenue into Central Park.  After studying medicine for several years on graduating from high school in Germany, I realized that my future was not being a physician like my father and brother, but rather in the realm of visual media.  I moved to New York and lived in the Westbeth art community on the Hudson River.  In order to pay my rent, I earned a license as a horse-cab driver.        

Perhaps I should start somewhere else.  We are in the year 1942 at my parents’ wartime wedding. They are wearing yellow stars on their chests, kissing their parents goodbye on the run, not knowing that they would never see them again.  As a small boy, I could not understand how my friends had grandparents and even great-grandparents.  I had none.  When I was 12, I first learned about the Holocaust madness that had exterminated my parents’ entire family because they were Jews.  It was not surprising that my parents did not speak to me about this unspeakable horror until I was 12, since we continued to live in the anti-Semitic environment of the former post-Stalinist Czechoslovakia where it was best not to be identified as a Jew. 

In my home, the integration of art and science flowed naturally since my father was both a musician and scientist.  He had survived the war years with my mother as a musician with false identification papers often playing piano at parties where the Nazis were celebrating.   After the war, he studied medicine and became a medical scientist.  He would come home after a long day at work and play piano while I sat beside him listening.  My father was also a composer who composed Czech tangos and rumbas which were released as recordings and played on the radio. 

Ironically, my Jewish identify was awakened after arriving in West Germany.  I changed overnight from a young Communist Pioneer to a western hippie.  I grew long hair, wore a goat-fur jacket embroidered with colorful flowers, started to socialize within the Jewish community of Dusseldorf, and joined a Zionist group.  The true reason for joining this group had little to do with leaving for Israel.   It gave me the opportunity to be accepted into a marijuana-smoking hippie circle of friends that helped transform the trauma of emigration into a positive experience isolating me from the brown shirt mentality of the older generation of Germans.  It was even more difficult for my parents to relate to a generation with a Nazi past that included the murderers of their parents.  I remember sitting with my parents in our new home in Germany watching the moon landing on our Czech black and white TV.  This moment awaked in me the power of a real-time media experience.

When I arrived for the first time in my life in Israel in 1983, I had little idea about the Jewish State and the Jewish religion. I traveled to the Holy Land with two friends for a vacation in Eilat. After few days at this Red Sea resort town, I decided to travel without my friends to Jerusalem. I took a bus planning to stop on the way in Sodom on the Dead Sea to visit a friend of my brother who worked as a dermatologist in a clinic there.  I had a simple map of Israel and somehow I thought Sodom was a small town.  When the bus arrived in Ein Gedi, I asked when we would arrive in Sodom. With a smile in his face, the man sitting beside me explained that we have passed Sodom an hour ago.  Panicking, I got off the bus and found myself in a silent, peaceful oasis. I checked in to a youth hostel and spent the night at Ein Gedi.  The next morning, I decided not to go back to Sodom but to continue on my trip to Jerusalem. I went to the bus stop and sat on a bench.  I sat there one hour, two hours, three hours, until a man passed by and asked me what I was doing there. I answered that I was waiting for a bus to Jerusalem. He smiled and told me there will be no buses at all during the coming few days because of the Pesach holiday and that the only way to get there is to use a sherut-taxi.  I had no idea at that time what Pesach was, but I followed his advice.  Finally arriving in Jerusalem was for me an exciting moment. I checked into a youth hostel where I met a young American college student.  As we walked together to the Kotel, the Wailing Wall, a Chasidic man walked by and inquired if we were Jews. When we answered in the affirmative, he asked where we planned to spend the Seder.  I had no idea what a Seder was. Then the Chassid told us if we would come to the Wall in a few hours he would arrange for us to spend the Seder with an Orthodox family. He asked if we prefer a Hebrew or English speaking family. I answered that I would prefer an English speaking family.  My new found friend argued that he speaks enough Hebrew to understand everything and that he is willing to translate for me.  A few hours later we met the same Chassid who took us to Mea Shearim, one of the oldest and the most Orthodox neighborhoods in Jerusalem. We arrived at a rabbi's home filled with many children speaking Yiddish. Since I speak German, it was easy for me to communicate with them.  In the end, it was me who translate for my friend.

I had no idea that twelve years later in 1995, I would create the first Internet art project using GPS technology. The title of the work was Exodus. I walked for four days through the desert tracing the steps of Moses.  People worldwide could follow my trek.  This performance artwork was my metaphor for the modern exodus of humankind into to the time-space realm of the Internet.

There were earlier fascinating media experiences in my Prague childhood that had impact on my work as a media artist – frequenting the cinema, developing photographs in my neighbor’s makeshift darkroom, immersion in a 360o panoramic film happening, seeing early time-base imagery in a technical museum, and creating an instant camera anticipating Polaroid. There were two movie theaters near where we lived and my friend and I would go there nearly every Sunday for the morning matinee.  We saw Karel Zeman’s fantastical films which are often shown today in university film schools and new media departments as early examples of compositing visualization.  In contemporary terminology, it’s called a “virtual set” in which technology allows the combination of actual actors with virtual reality creating a virtual setting and even individual characters. Zeman was a pioneer with this technology, and later I became interested in it as well.

I remember another early experience with film when my father took me to the panoramic cinema at the Holesovice amusement park. Inside a round building there was a circular screen on which was projected a 360˚ panoramic film from a Russian projection system. Spectators didn’t sit as in a normal cinema but stood in the middle watching the changing view from an airplane. I remember that the plane began to bank making people lose their balance and fall to the ground. This was a powerful experience. In the same fair grounds in 1891, the artist Marold created a panorama, an image where reality and fiction were blurred, where three-dimensional objects emerged from a 360o panoramic painting. This interaction between reality and fiction later became one of the main features of my work. My friend and I made a make-believe "camera" from a cardboard box in which we placed pictures we had drawn in advance. We would go to the park and ask people walking by if we could photograph them. If someone agreed, we would click the “shutter release” and pull from the “camera” one of the pictures to give to the person we had “photographed.” My childhood invention was the “precursor” to the Polaroid camera. A few years later, the son of my parents’ friends from New York came for a visit with an actual Polaroid.  I wasn’t at all surprised.

When I was fifteen years old, I saw what appeared to be an action movie in the making hiking with my friend in the countryside not far from Prague.  At the horizon, hundreds of tanks where rolling over the hills in the far distance.  When we realized that what we were seeing on that summer morning in 1968 was not a movie, but the beginning of the invasion of the Russian army into Czechoslovakia, we ran down the road tearing down all the direction signs to make it difficult for the invading soldiers to find their way.  This image will forever remain etched in my mind along with the horrible feeling of being helpless and powerless.   

I was fortunate to have been born in Prague, a city permeated by the myth of the Golem, a pre-robotic being created by mystical algorithms four centuries ago invoked by Rabbi Judah Loew, the spiritual father of Norbert Wiener’s cybernetic theory.  Prague is the city in which the Czech word “robot” was conceived, the Golem was born, and Kafka told the tale of the metamorphosis of a young man into a giant cockroach.  It is also the city in which the first interactive cinema, “Kinoautomat,” and the phenomenon of “Laterna Magika,” the fluid transition between the stage and projected film, were invented.  Publishing the first illustrated book for children in 1658, the visionary Czech educator Comenius pioneered in developing a system of media pedagogy of great significance in new media studies.

My high school in Düsseldorf was near the illustrious Art Academy. The Academy radiated out to the community at large, so I felt part of what was going on there.  I couldn’t help but notice the reverberations being sent out by the life pulsating there. Near the Academy were a number of cafés and bars where students and professors congregated. I spent a lot of time in one such local hangout that was named Creamcheese. Its interior was created by members of the ZERO group, Otto Piene, Günter Mack and Heinz Ücker.  It was later installed in Düsseldorf’s Museum Kunst Palast.  This environment had a strong impact on me without my being entirely aware of everything that was going on there.  In our neighborhood, I often saw Joseph Beuys. He was indeed larger-than-life, and not just because of his height and hat, but because he drove a Bentley.  The strength of his personality and work wasn’t clear to me until two years before I entered the Academy.  I became aware of the significance of the art scene in Düsseldorf when I saw a video installation for the first time in my life in the city’s Kunsthalle. Today, it’s considered a seminal piece. It was created by Shigeko Kubota, Nam June Paik’s wife, and was based on Marcel Duchamp’s Nude Descending a Staircase.  Although I appreciated the artistic energies in Dussledorf, I decided to study medicine that I enjoyed for three years and thought that this was going to be my profession. When I realized that the life of a physician was not what I really wanted for myself, I left medical school and left Dusseldorf for New York.  I was always grateful for the ongoing support for my quest offered by my brother, Peter, himself a physician and collector of Czech avant-garde art.

Recently, I was shocked to find out that my former anatomy professor was a Nazi criminal who was the assistant of the monster doctor Augus Hirt who did experiments on live prisoners in the concentration camps during the World War II.  The name of my former professor was Anton Kiesselbach and in the trial against him in the middle of the sixties he was freed because lack of proofs. It was a typical trial in that time in West Germany where a large number of the judges had themselves served Nazi Germany. No wonder that most of such trials ended with acquittals. 

When I first came to New York City in 1978, the cosmopolitan atmosphere of the city was liberating for me, even though my existence there was very tenuous.  It was important to me that no one asked who I was or where I came from.  It didn’t matter.  Being in New York gave me a burst of energy that dissipated when I relocated at the edge of a California redwood forest, in the beautiful mountains around Santa Cruz.   In this perfect paradise where I did not have anything particular to do, I felt no motivation to do anything at all.  I soon realized I needed the vibrant energy and existential challenge of a big city and returned to New York to begin intensive work in photography.  A turning point came when I definitively decided to pursue photography as a profession. This came from meeting New York photographer Frederic Cantor, whose work I admired. He didn’t know it, but for me at that time he was a real guru. I tried to imitate his work in my New York photographs, created under Cantor’s influence, and helped me eventually get accepted to the Düsseldorf Academy of Fine Art. 

I returned to Germany to work for Monochrom magazine, which offered me the freedom to create a wide variety of photographs that it published.   The magazine was very progressive for its time, sometimes even provocative, both in content and design. I mostly did portraits of friends, people I was acquainted with, strong personalities for the most part. The photos were pseudo-staged in often-bizarre situations that were created without a lot of prior preparation. The magazine soon folded. I suppose it was too experimental for its time. During this period, however, I never really considered myself a professional photographer even though it paid my rent. 
           
I first applied to the Düsseldorf Academy of Fine Arts in 1983. Although I was not accepted, something positive did come out of it as Joseph Beuys organized a special exhibition of those who were rejected. He was already so famous that he could invite the press. This exhibition of the rejected threw into doubt the very social status of the “Artist” and “Art.” The following year, I was accepted into Bernd Becher’s photography atelier at a time that photography was starting to become accepted on equal footing with the classical fine arts. My schoolmates, who continued with photography, Andreas Gursky, Thomas Struth and Thomas Ruff, later became successful artists. For me, the work in Becher’s atelier was boring. The conceptualism he encouraged did absolutely nothing for me although I appreciated it in Becher’s work. However, I found the work his students were producing banal and foreign to me. I met Nam June Paik by accident at the opening of an exhibition. I told him I’d like to study under him and he didn’t ask for any further details about me.  He just said, “You are my student.” When someone came up to him, he introduced me as his new student.  I was really lucky because it was not so easy to get into his atelier. He did not take everyone. When I began to study with Paik, a new period began for me. I felt like I had found my element working with video. Outwardly, he was very humble. He was even skeptical about his own work. But looking back now, I realize that maybe this was a tactic of his. What impressed me about Paik though was his lack of pretension and his interest in everyday things. I think that’s why students liked him so much. He never played the star and you could speak to him about anything. Most people do not know this, but there would be situations when if he liked a student’s work he would simply buy it. He didn’t do this because he was collecting these objects but so that he could use it in his own installations. He considered it a form of partnership. He wasn’t misusing his students’ work. For me of course what was most important about Paik was his openness with his students. That was the greatest lesson for me, the one I identified with the most. I try to maintain this sort of openness with my own students. I consider them more as partners who I can learn from despite their age or limited experience. 

At the Academy, Joseph Beuys had created a space he called Freie Internationale Universität (FIU). It was a gesture on his part to represent a clear alternative to academic seclusion, an open space within a closed space. Beuys of course always had his devotees around him. My friend the Bolivian painter Ricardo Peredo and I began to associate with Beuys and his group. He was such a charismatic personality that he attracted us to him. On the other hand, we felt uncomfortable with his students who acted like members of a difficult to define sect. When Beuys spoke, it was like they were listening to a sermon. Beuys’s lectures themselves were incredibly inspirational and they forced us to think about the role of the artist and his work in a social context. He propagated a completely different type of artistic work. He thought the artist should create “social sculptures,” that is, the artist’s work should be focused on mending the world. I still mull this idea over today and always return to it and try to discuss it with my students as well.

My video-installations evolved into video-sculptures at the end of my studies in Düsseldorf.  The difference between the two is not exactly clear. The term “video-sculpture” didn’t exist until it was used for the first time in 1986 (Videoskulptur in German) by the curator Wulf Herzogenrath for an exhibition at the Kölnischer Kunstverein. I guess one distinction is that video-installations use monitors as the central element. In a video-sculpture, the object itself is so central that if the monitors are switched off, it still can be a meaningful artwork. I created Menorah at the end of my studies without having any idea what sort of response it eventually would have. It had small TV monitors at the ends of each of seven braches of a large steel candelabrum.  On the monitors’ screens, video images of flickering flames danced.  These virtual flames emanated from a hidden video transmitter sending spiritual messages to antennas topping each of the seven monitors.     

Menorah directly referenced my Jewish identity in a German context. The first place in Germany that provided me some comfortable surroundings was the Düsseldorf Jewish community. However, it took me a long while before I was ready to openly and publicly acknowledge my Jewishness. The first time I publicly displayed Menorah at the Academy, I placed a ring around it made of defunct fire extinguishers. They weren’t so easy to find because at the time everyone in Germany had the Baader-Meinhof Gang and other terrorist groups still fresh in their minds and their bombs were made out of old fire extinguishers. Nevertheless, I wanted to show the installation like this. I wanted to say that these old extinguishers were like old Nazis who no longer had the strength to snuff the flame of the menorah. This was the only time I used this literal interpretation when exhibiting Menorah. Actually, it was David Galloway, the noted curator and art critic writing for the International Herald Tribune, who convinced me that the object was powerful enough on its own. The work was in great demand. I won a number of awards for it and it went from exhibition to exhibition. Actually, there exist two copies of Menorah. One was bought from me by ZKM [Zentrum für Kunst und Medientechnologie] in Karlsruhe as the very first work for its collection (so it was given identification number 001). The second was commissioned in 2001 by the Jewish Museum in Berlin at the architect Daniel Libeskind’s request.

Otto Piene, a German artist who headed MIT's Center for Advanced Visual Studies, was invited by the Düsseldorf Art Academy to judge the works of graduating students.  Looking at my Menorah, I attempted to explain to him what a menorah was.  He interrupted me to explain that he knew all about menorahs from his collaboration with Mel Alexenberg in creating a major exhibition of electronic art at MIT for Yeshiva University Museum in New York.  He gave me a gift of the catalog for the 1988 show LightsOROT: Spiritual Dimensions of the Electronic Age with its introduction by Rudolf Arnheim and a dialog "Light, Vision and Art in Judaism" between Mel Alexenberg and Yeshiva University president Rabbi Norman Lamm.  This catalog was to be an important influence on my thinking about both Judaism and new media art.  When I just had returned to Prague from Thailand in 2002 where I was establishing a new media department of the university, I received a phone call from Mel Alexenberg.  He told me the director of Prague's Center for Contemporary Art told him that he must meet Michael Bielicky after visiting the Otto Piene's retrospective exhibition at the Center.  As soon as I heard that he was the Mel Alexenberg of LightsOROT, I rushed over to his hotel to meet him. We have been close friends and colleagues since.      

Shortly after the fall of the Communist system in Eastern Europe in 1990, I was invited to return to Prague to found the first department of new media art in the region.  When I spoke to my mentor Nam June Paik about the offer of a professorship in new media at the Academy of Fine Arts in Prague, he told me “Go for it! Good luck!” and spontaneously gave me 5,000 German Marks to get the new department started.  With this money and some additional sponsorship, I purchased two video cameras and three video editing systems.  This very basic video equipment was the basis for creating a lively and creative department in a cubistic villa next to the main Art Academy building.  In the first years, I worked with my students on some early communications art projects like IPI (International Painting Interactive) in collaboration with students in many other countries who collectively created a virtual painting using a graphics tablet and modem.  We were also involved in a pioneering interactive television project (Piazza Virtuale) which was presented at the 1992 Documenta IX in Kassel, Germany.  The seminal philosopher of media, Vilem Flusser, inspired my students with his highly original lectures.  After his tragic death, we organized a series of “Vilem Flusser Symposia” in collaboration with Prague’s Goethe Institute.   

During this period in Prague, I developed projects using locative media such as global positioning systems (GPS) that were presented at Ars Electronica in Linz, Austria.  My Intelligent Mailman at Ars Electronica was the first GPS artwork ever.  I integrated GPS and Internet technologies in a performance artwork that electronically transmitted my wandering through the Negev Desert. I also created virtual environments at the Babeinsberg High-Tech Center in Berlin and at the ZKM Center for Art and Media in Karsruhe.

Living at the intersections of Czech and German cultures was and continues to be an amazing trigger for creative thought and action.  Switching time-space while reflecting on one’s encounter with changing environments is a great teacher for a creative person.  I felt that the new found freedom in Eastern Europe produced a level of energy and creative potential at the time that was much stronger than what was happening in Western Europe.  I traveled extensively throughout the former Communist world between 1990 and 2000 as advisor to the Soros Centers for Contemporary Arts creating educational departments and centers for new media art from Bucharest, Odessa, and Moscow, to Alma-Ata in Kazakhstan.  I began the new millennium lecturing on new media arts in Thailand and founding with Francis Wittenberger the New Media Arts Festival in Bangkok.  My experience in Asia led me to realize how much more dynamic this part of the world was in comparison to the more staid culture of Western Europe.

The challenge in educating future generations in the field of digital arts is the rapidly changing conditions that make today’s media theory stale tomorrow.  We know that ideas we taught a decade ago are irrelevant today.  Perhaps, the most significant change is the democratization of video and computer technologies that makes everyone a potential digital artist.  The aim to create Soros media centers in Eastern Europe modeled after the ZKM Center for Art and Media and MIT’s Center for Advanced Visual Studies and Media Lab required heavy funding for sophisticated equipment and facilities.  The concentration of digital art production in these centers has given way to powerful media tools that are cheap enough and compact enough for anyone to create serious digital artworks in their home.  Prestigious media art festivals like Ars Electronica in Linz and Tranmediale in Berlin are having to reinventing themselves to claim to continue be innovative, risky, and fresh. 

What is the role of the artist in society in the 21st century is the primary question?  We need to completely rethink stereotypic images of the artist and the concept of the art school that are becoming obsolete.  Perhaps art schools can be replaced by mobile educational units that adapt to alternative cultural environments.  We need to acknowledge the hundreds of millions of pictures produced worldwide daily.  This enormous inflation of images is radically changing our sensibilities. It is causing cultural pollution of our environment that may be as great a threat to our mind and souls as physical pollution is to our bodies.  Does it make sense to educate our students to produce more and more images?  Perhaps we need to encourage the practice of cultural ecology by creating an ecological movement against image pollution of our environment like those acting against chemical pollution.  Students in a post-digital age are already creating new forms of dematerialized art – net art, locative media, data and information visualization, telematics – that reaches into public spaces globally and even beyond our planet. 

My 16 years teaching at the Academy of Fine Arts in Prague convinced me that the key to educating future digital artists is not the quality of the school, it is not the professor, but the quality of the student who gets accepted.  In Prague, I was fortunate to always be able to choose the best of the best.  Consequently, those students were from the beginning more my partners than students. My students in Prague were invited and won awards in such new media art festivals as Ars Electronica in Linz or Transmediale in Berlin where they were not considered as students but as professional artists!

I guess I was lucky again to be appointed as a full-time professor and head of the Digital Arts Department at the University of Arts and Design in Karlsruhe, Germany. The fact that the school is situated at the same giant building as the ZKM Center for Art and Media is a great advantage for the students. They can see world-class media art shows, attend events with top international performers, and hear lectures by some of the most important artists and theoreticians in the world.  After 16 years in Prague, I moved from a dreamy and poetic city to a more rational and functional Karlsruhe. This was my third emigration between the Czech Republic and Germany.   

Although primarily conceptual in orientation, my department at the Art Academy in Prague was also a technological  laboratory in which there was a lots of freedom given to the students who, in turn, were expected to assume individual responsibility. Most students understood this challenge. Others misused it to their disadvantage. I believe that it is important to work with the students on highly innovative, challenging, and risky issues. My experience taught me that project-centered study motivates students more and is generally a more efficient educational methodology than more formal methods.   It has also taught me the significance of being open to learning from teachers and colleagues through ongoing dialogue. My long-term dialogue and friendship with key thinkers and artists, such as Nam June Paik, Vilem Flusser, Woody Vasulka, Mel Alexenberg, and Peter Weibel, has enriched me and facilitated my seeing alternative perspectives on life and art

Students should be encouraged to develop the need to break out of institutionalized frameworks. The young generation should learn to take risks rather than always follow their teachers. Often students exhibit fresh visions than exceed those of their professors.  It is our duty to support their visions even when our egos are sometimes hurt.  They should ask if the so-called art system (art school, gallery, museum, art critic, curator, art magazine, art fair, etc.) is the right framework for a digital artist at the beginning of the 21st century knowing very well how much this system is corrupted where often financial interests dominate and manipulate the art market independent of the quality of the artworks.

My wife, Kamila Bielicka Richter, and I collaborated on a project that we call Falling Life. It operates completely outside of the art system. It is an ongoing project that was introduced for the first time in Berlin in August 2005. This urban screening project needs neither a curator nor a gallery. It does not need a fixed place or access to the electric power. We are equipped with a car, a laptop, a compact powerful projector, and a small power generator. With this very mobile equipment, we are able to create an instant presence in the urban landscape. We transform city architecture into dynamic and living organisms.  Without any on-site preparation and without any permits, we operate a kind of guerilla-style projection. Within less than ten minutes, we can illuminate giant buildings with our artwork, reaching huge audiences that would probably never walk into a gallery or museum. We use a minimalist language of constantly appearing and disappearing pictograms. The moving icons often represent the collective reality of our interconnected globalized world.  Falling Life was projected during the Czech Culture Festival in Berlin, as a subversive public interference in Ars Electronica in Linz, at ZKM in Karlsruhe, at the DOX Center for Contemporary Art in Prague, and in Barcelona, Bangkok, and Jerusalem.

We projected on the façade of the grotesquely gigantic building built by the brutal Romanian dictator Caucescu in Bucharest.  With the fall of Communism and the murder of Caucescu, the building of the dictatorial regime is being shared by the parliament of a democratic government and a museum of contemporary art.  There was an exhibition in the museum of social realist paintings glorifying the dictator which after his fall looked absurd and preposterous.  Boorish parliamentarians did not get the satire of these kitsch artworks and accused the curators of promoting Communist propaganda.  Perhaps it is a sign of Isaiah’s prophetic vision to beat swords into plowshares that the buildings of evil regimes are being transformed into centers for creative arts.  The media department of the Dusseldorf Art Academy where I studied with Nam June Paik was housed in former Gestapo headquarters and I currently teach in an enormous building shared by my art school and ZKM Center for Art and Media that was a Nazi munitions factory where slave laborers manufactured torpedoes.

I was invited by the Jewish Museum Prague in 2005 to develop a project for the Guttmann Gallery, its gallery of contemporary art. With a small team of collaborators I developed a digital art project This Year in Jerusalem. This title updates the millennia-old Jewish prayer "Next year in Jerusalem." I aimed at virtually fulfilling visitors' dream – to be in Jerusalem now and not next year. I installed custom-made motion capture tracking technology in the gallery space. This device tracked people in the gallery space and defined their changing positions while creating a three dimensional representations of them called voxels (volumetric pixels).  I simultaneously displayed on the wall of the gallery a live moving real-time motion image of activity at the Jerusalem Kotel, the Western Wall. When visitors entered the gallery space, they saw their shadow images (voxel representations) moving within the live Kotel image. They digitally mingled with the crowd at the Kotel.  The gallery became a dynamic image experience merging Prague and Jerusalem. 

My wife Kamila and I having been working for the apost several years on a series of projects dealing with what we call Data Driven Narratives. In 2007, we created Falling Times, an ironic translation machine for news. Falling Times is an everlasting and growing real-time news translation machine representing permanently appearing and disappearing information about our times.  Falling Times refers to the extensive world of InfoPollution in which we live. The InfoSociety has created a new kind of consumer - the InfoConsumer!  In our visualization, we reduce the content to headlines and key words that appear in the news most frequently. These reduced news items are translated into a dynamic pictogram language that attempts to be universal and instantly understandable. Online users have the opportunity to define collectively the meaning associated with each icon we created and decide what kind of news will be finally displayed. The information industry produces less and less meaning while creating a pattern that decorates our daily life and persuades us that we are connected to reality. This project was shown around the world, from New York, Sao Paulo, Seoul, Sydney, Berlin, to Prague.  It was both displayed indoors and in outdoor public spaces as gigantic projections on building facades.

In 2010, we developed the artwork Garden of Error and Decay that tells the continuous story of current world disasters.  The authors' input joins with Twitter users' tweets and stock exchange information to influence the story telling. Every time a disaster related topic is discussed in Twitter, it becomes displayed in the form of an animated pictogram. Users have the opportunity to either eliminate or multiply the disaster scenes with a shooting devise. However, it is not the user that has the power to decide what really happens. Like in real life, the narrative is driven by stock exchange dynamics that dictate whether it goes up or down. This project is not a film, not a game, and not a nonlinear interactive story.  The Garden of Error and Decay reflects on the networked media reality of the 21st century that seems to have increasing impact on our perception of the world.

We believe that real time data like the news, Twitter feed or stock exchange data are becoming a new element in global story telling.  This global newsfeed in dialogue with the authors and users influence the narration. In that sense, we are facing a radically new format which still has to be explored more deeply.

Inspired by Mel Alexenberg's term "Postdigital Age," I organized in November 2010 a small international conference at the ZKM Center for Art and Media that I called "Postdigital Narratives." (See video of the conference at http://vimeo.com/18704694.) The participants Mel Alexenberg, Timothy Druckery, Norman Klein, Adam Rafinski and Michael Rybakov discussed the humanization of today's digitized culture.  Alexenberg spoke about how Midrash, two thousand years of creative narratives designed to elucidate the biblical narrative, spins out stories between the lines of the biblical text to reveal messages hidden in the white spaces between the Hebrew letters. This conference inaugurated a new Institute of Postdigital Narrative that I now head at the University of Art and Design in Karlsruhe.

Michael Bielicky is professor of Digital Media Art at the University of Art and Design in Karlsruhe, Germany, and head of the Institute for Visual Media at ZKM Center for Art and Media.  He was born in Prague in 1954 and immigrated to West Germany in 1969. After studying medicine in Dusseldorf, he studied photography and worked as a horse cab driver in New York.  He earned his Master of Arts from the Academy of Fine Arts Dusseldorf under Nam-June Paik in 1989. He was then Paik's assistant for 5 years until he returned to the Czech Republic as founder and professor of the New Media Art Department at the Academy of Fine Arts Prague.  In 2006, he accepted his current professorship in Karlsruhe. He has participated in numerous international exhibitions, festivals and symposia using communication, navigation, video and VR technologies. His recent artwork uses real time web-based information technologies in public spaces develped in collaboration with ZKM Karlsruhe, Ars Electronica Linz, High Tech Center Berlin-Babelsberg, etc.  His innovative artwork has been exhibited in Centre Pompidou Paris, MoMA New York, National Gallery Prague, Kunsthaus Zurich, Jewish Museum Berlin, Sao Paulo Biennale Brazil, Seoul Biennale South Korea, Museum for Contemporary Art Warsaw, Kunstmuseum  Düsseldorf, Gallery for Contemporary Arts Milan, Jewish Museum Prague, and State Museum of Contemporary Art Thessaloniki.