Those Who Follow

While developing my concept for Following Piece 2.0, I realized that it would be difficult to follow subjects on foot as Acconci did in the original piece, since I live in the suburbs, and not NYC. I shared my intention to participate in the project by posting the @Platea blog post which announced the performance on FaceBook. There was an immediate response from one of my “friends” stating that the piece would amount to stalking, saying “ ... if someone followed ME and tweeted about what I was doing, I'd be freaked out and angry and would probably call the police.” Yet this same person posts to hundreds of people about her daily activities, blurring the line that separates public from private as it exists in the social phenomenon of cyberspace vs. real space.

Because of these initial concerns, and to avoid any misconceptions, I decided to come up with a performance that was different yet in keeping with the Acconci piece. Coincidently, I had been working on the Gagnon family genealogy and had done some fact-finding on the origin of the name.

First, a definition - stalking (the act of following prey stealthily)

Research shows that my family name could have originated from either A) The nickname for an aggressive, belligerent young man, or cruel person from the Old French gagnon “mastiff” or “guard dog” or B) Derived from the Old French “gagneau”, which means “to till or cultivate”. Since my ancestors were farmers, I personally think that option B) is more likely, but if the name indeed came from A), an “aggressive, cruel person” or “guard dog” would probably “follow prey stealthily”. That was it! I was excited that I had developed a concept that was innovative and yet was still faithful to the original.

My plan was to post about my ancestors from as far back in history as possible, chronologically to the present day. Without the internet to do much of the research, my cover of the piece would have been impossible. I realized that instead of just names following one another, these names had existed and had been real people. The story started in the year 1532 with Barnabe Gagnon and finished with me. I previously had a compiled genealogy and even have been to visit the original family home, La Gagnonnierre, in the Perche region of Normandy in France, so I had my tools at hand to start.

@joanie_s_c START: The year 1532. Those who follow. Barnabe Gagnon is born in Tourourvre, Perche, France.

Image: La Gagnonierre, Tourourvre, Perche, Normandy, France

What I didn’t realize was that I would get so affected by these former “just-names” on paper. I became obsessed about these “now-people”, wondered what they did for a living, where they lived, how they survived the crossing to New France, and what they did when they got there.

In my research, I learned that the houses that the three Gagnon brothers built when they arrived from France in Chateau Richer, Quebec in 1635 are also beautifully preserved, as I had witnessed with the farm in Normandy. All the houses are still lived in and commemorated with plaques documenting the family history. The homes which I had previously imagined as shacks, are still impressive. I found that rather than continue as farmers, the Gagnon brothers became shopkeepers shortly after they arrived in Canada. I found ancient land deeds and marriage and death certificates.

@joanie_s_c The year 1635. Those who follow. Pierre Gagnon and his brothers leave Normandy for the New France, now Quebec, Canada

Image: Pierre Gagnon's home in Chateau Richer, Quebec, Canada. Built in 1652.

When they moved to the US, I also learned that my grandparents lived in Nashua, NH before moving to Lawrence, MA, where they stayed until they died.

@joanie_s_c The year 1911. Those who follow. Theodule and Aurore Gagnon move to Nashua, NH from Quebec, Canada

Image: The Gagnon family, 1911. Theodule and Aurore with daughter Reine at left.

@joanie_s_c END: Those who follow. Joan-Marie Estelle Gagnon, Lawrence, MA. Portrait age 5

Utilizing the power of social media, specifically Twitter, my tale unfolded. At one point Quebec News picked up on my posts and started re-tweeting my storytelling. Many of my own followers told me that they were finding my story very interesting and were looking forward to the next “installment”. As a result, my performance evolved into a many layered re-enactment of Following Piece:

1. One generation following the other (My original plan)
2. My new interest from following and learning more about my ancestors (Resulting in unexpected discoveries)
3. Other people began following my story (Social media’s affect on my story telling)
4. Quebec News picking up on my performance and re-tweeting to their followers (My family story had suddenly gone very public)
5. In turn, those who follow that news agency now followed my story (New anonymous followers)

Incidentally, I also found in my research that there are hundreds of Gagnons who are artists. Some I knew about, for instance, the well-known Canadian artist Clarence Gagnon, but there are also many contemporary artists. I’m not sure if this is coincidence or a trait that has been passed down through hundreds of years. I’m fascinated though, and definitely will be investigating this possible common factor.

In the end, the stalking fears turned out to be unsubstantiated. While Acconci’s piece evolved without many people noticing, the result of using social media to create “Those Who Follow” caused hundreds of people - quite a substantial audience, to follow the performance of my Following Piece 2.0 which merged the past with the present. All of the performances can be viewed on Twitter using the search term #fp20.

Project V: Following Piece 2.0 - Oct 26 - 30

Image courtesy KaCey97007

Context
A few months ago, shortly after Michael Jackson had died, I was clicking through YouTube to listen to some of his old classics. I stumbled upon this great cover by KT Tunstall of the Jackson 5 favorite, "I Want You Back":



It got me thinking about art, fine art, conceptual art. In the music scene, cover songs are super common, both among emerging musicians who want to connect with the crowd and established musicians. To me, a cover song is not a tribute to another artist, or a derivative work, or imitation, or a remix. A cover song is just darn fun, and it's good music.

Artist Vito Acconci. Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons.

Following Piece 1.0
Forty years ago, in October 1969, artist Vito Acconci performed Following Piece. A study in the public spaces we occupy and assumptions around privacy, Acconci followed random people in Manhattan during the month and reported on their activities until they entered a private area such as an apartment or car. Here's what Media Art Net had to say about it:

Following Piece is one of Acconci's early works. The underlying idea was to select a person from the passers-by who were by chance walking by and to follow the person until he or she disappeared into a private place where Acconci could not enter. The act of following could last a few minutes, if the person then got into a car, or four or five hours, if the person went to a cinema or restaurant. Acconci carried out this performance everyday for a month. And he typed up an account of each pursuit, sending it each time to a different member of the art community.

A pioneer in conceptual art, Acconci's Following Piece marked a shift in his own artistic interests, as he began to look at how we occupy public space. His results, which I found on Design Boom, struck me as not unlike a series of Twitter or FourSquare updates, decades before these technologies made the public broadcast of somewhat-private actions in public space normal.

It got me thinking. I always loved his piece, and I wondered how he might perform it in this age of social media and mobile phones. So why not do a cover?

Image courtesy moriza.

Following Piece 2.0
And so, with that in mind, I thought it might be fun to do a cover of Following Piece, but to look at it specifically in the contemporary context of Twitter, a world where public/private boundaries are shifting and eroding, as once-private activities are broadcast into online public space. In the world of Twitter, the idea of following has taken on a new meaning: once an uncomfortable thought, it's now regularly seen as a good thing to have one's private actions followed by many strangers.

In short, from October 26 to October 30, we're asking anyone interested to join a public performance of Following Piece in the social media sphere. Following Piece 2.0. We would use Twitter, and we'd apply the hashtag #fp20 to make it super clear that our tweets are part of the performance.

What would Following Piece 2.0 look like? Here are some thoughts:

• Tweeting about a person you're following on Twitter. Let's say you're following @mrskutcher and she says she's going to a party. In Acconci's original piece, he never identified the subject per se, so you might tweet: "Lady with glasses and short hair is going to a release party #fp20"
• Tweeting about a person you're following in real life. I live in New York, and I accidentally follow people all the time if we happen to be going in the same direction. What if you followed someone for a little bit and live tweeted what they're doing?
• Tweeting for a person you're following in real life. When sitting on the bus, I often like to imagine what other people are thinking or what they'd be tweeting in that moment.
• Integrating geolocation social media services like Foursquare and Brightkite.
• Use your imagination!

If you're interested, drop your name and Twitter handle below, or just start tweeting on October 26. Just be sure to use the hashtag #fp20 so we know what's what!

Image courtesy Jean-François Chénier

Very Important Note
Before we begin, we want to make it super duper ultra clear that we are not encouraging stalking, cyberstalking, harassment or anything else of that nature. If you follow someone online, you may wish to ask them beforehand if they would be okay with your performance. And if you're following someone offline, keep in mind that they may not be comfortable with what you are doing. In all cases, be sure to respect local laws and, importantly, respect people's right to privacy.

'The Dive', A Poem in Seven Tweets, by Peter Glen (@stonefly)

We loved @stonefly's Dive performance and just had to share it here. Be sure to read it from bottom up.

Project IV: The Dive ... A Rainbow of Paper Airplanes - by Alex von Vaupel

this fickle season
of rain and sunshine
i try my luck
and go in search
the rainbow’s end

Skydiving
When @platea announced Project IV: The Dive, I loved the idea immediately. I had a vision of a rainbow of coloured paper airplanes skydiving into a crowded street. The airplanes would have poems printed on them. Would anybody notice? Would the poems just get trampled, or would people catch an airplane, stop to take a closer look?

The Dive was announced at short notice, so I didn't have much time to prepare. My original idea had been to let the airplanes skydive somewhere in Amsterdam, but as it turned out, I was in Canterbury, UK, on the specified dates. I had fun playing with the idea, trying different things to make it work. Practicing how to fold a paper airplane that will actually fly, selecting poems, walking around town to spot the best location. I came up with an airplane design that had the poem printed on the wings, and links to the Platea blog and my own printed on the inside.



It's hard to find a crowd in Canterbury, on a september week day. The tourists have gone, and the students haven't returned yet. The busiest place I could find was a spot in the highstreet near some popular sandwich bars, where many people buy their lunch.

grey morning
drawing
my own rainbow

So, on wednesday, Sept 9th, I went to the city centre with my bag full of paper airplanes, to launch them into the street. I teamed up with photographer Julia Freeman to take pictures of the airplanes flying around. All the pictures posted here were taken by her.

I had imagined to make a nice rainbow arch with the airplanes, but of course the vision I had did not factor in practicalities like the direction of the wind ...
The airplanes went Everywhere! Some people caught them and read the poem, some people just walked by, others threw the airplanes back at me. A few were annoyed, this was not a crowd of tourists, they were busy people trying to get back to work. I know I had fun throwing the airplanes at them anyway!



It was just like the leaves falling off a tree, most people never look up to notice, the leaves get trampled on. Occasionally someone like me will come along and watch, maybe pick up a leaf and take it home.

A dive back into childhood...
Those people who stopped to talk to me all commented how the airplanes reminded them of being a child:'oh i loved to do that when I was a kid' ... 'my daughter would love this'... 'isn't it fun being twelve!'

I think they were right, this was a dive into childhood, for me and for the public. The airplanes invited people to remember that childish curiosity that makes us notice things. Especially those things that busy grownups ignore. A child will stop to marvel at the leaves falling from a tree, collect the leaves, play with them.



It's that attitude to the world that is needed to write haiku and tanka poetry, to notice what is happening, take a moment to reflect. The photos Julia managed to get of the flying airplanes have that 'haiku moment' feel to them. Stop, look around you!

they see only street
commuters passing by
the tree
throws conkers
at their heads

Practicality
With hindsight the project could have done with more preparation, and a better location. Perhaps with a more captive audience, like people sitting in a park or a square in a big city, on a summer day. More airplanes and a good spot to throw them down from would help create an actual rainbow.

On the other hand, you have to be careful, if the crowd is too big, it becomes difficult to aim... you don't want the point of an airplane hitting someone. Also beware of the authorities, I am not entirely sure if I would have needed a license, had I done this on a bigger scale. I made sure to pick up after myself, in order not to get nicked for littering.



The airplanes went down quickly and many ended up trampled on the street. This skydive was as brief in real life as the pictures and poems dived through my twitterstream.

The practical aspects may need a little work, but clearly the concept worked: people loved the idea, and it had the desired effect of making people stop and wonder, remember what it was like to be a child, before moving on.

I would like to thank the @platea crew for this wonderful, playful opportunity. Please comment and let me know what you think!

Ready for The Dive? Here's the list of performers (it's not too late to sign up!)

Alrighty, folks, are you ready for The Dive? Here's the final list of performers for Project IV, but REMEMBER that you can simply add your name to the comments, and we'll pop it on this list. I know I saw a few other folks were talking about The Dive on Twitter, but they didn't formally sign up, so please just feel free to add your name to the comments, and I'll place it on the blog post right away. We may extend the performance to Friday, in any case.

And, just start diving!


PG Stonefly
Twitter

Jorge Alvarez
Twitter, Facebook

Alex Von Vaupel
Twitter, Facebook, Blog

Cynthia Lewis
Twitter, Facebook

Aaron Chen
Twitter, Facebook, FriendFeed, Flickr

Trish Mayo
Facebook, Twitter, Flickr

Amy Finkbeiner
Twitter

Shelby Cunningham
Twitter, Facebook, Flickr

Lisa Hoang
Twitter

Christi Nielsen
Facebook, Twitter, Friendfeed, 12seconds

Jonny Gray
Twitter, Flickr, Facebook, Blogger

Carse Ramos
Facebook, Twitter, Flickr

Joanie San Chirico
Twitter, Facebook, Flickr, Blogger

Jennifer Ng
Twitter, Facebook, Flickr

D.
Tumblr, Flickr, Twitter

Yael David
Facebook, Twitter

Ingrid Murnane
Facebook, Twitter, FriendFeed

Sheila Cunningham
Twitter, Facebook

An Xiao
FriendFeed and Facebook

Project IV: The Dive - September 8-10

Photo via mcescobar1 on Flickr

Context
I've had this idea brewing for a good while now, immediately after I saw that Facebook would be moving into a real-time update model. I knew that I wanted to take a look at this move toward real-time and immediacy online, but had to focus on other @Platea projects for the moment.

It's been almost six months since Facebook went real time in March, and we've seen an even greater trend toward real-time. Facebook acquired popular social media aggregator FriendFeed, which offers push updates in real-time. And we've seen Twitter suffer a number of server hiccups, leading to much angst all around when updates were delayed.

In short, immediacy is quickly becoming the norm in social media.


photo via Jibba Jabba on Flickr

Project IV: The Dive
As the summer comes to an end in the northern hemisphere and the fall art season heats up, the steering committee and I thought it might be fun to have one last hurrah with a public dive through social media. The performance will be September 8 to 10, and we're asking our performers to use the real-time news feed as a visual performance space for diving.

Just think about it: you go online, you check your Facebook and FriendFeed feeds, and as the day goes on, each status update and picture post slowly makes its way down. If it's a busy day and you have a lot of friends, these updates slide down quickly. If it's a slow day, they get there eventually. Imagine a picture of yourself diving through this space, gradually making your way down your friends' news feeds.

Sounds kinda fun, huh?


Photo via Jeffrey Beall on Flickr

How to Participate
Participation is simple. For three days, from September 8 to 10, we're going to take a collective plunge. Here's how:

1. Write your name and links to your social media sites in the comments space below. The most effective sites for The Dive will be ones that show a picture as they update. Facebook's news feed is the most obvious, as is FriendFeed. Flickr is also a good option, and I'm sure there are a few more. Even your own personal blog could work--it would just be a very slow dive if you don't update very often!

2. Follow @Platea on Twitter and/or join the @Platea Facebook group. We'll be posting thoughts and ideas for inspiration in preparation for the week. Feel free to share your own, and we'll retweet or repost them.

3. Set up a self-timer or grab a friend and take pictures of yourself "diving". No, you don't have to be wearing a bathing suit. It doesn't even have to be you. All that matters is that you find some way to visually represent a dive. The fun part will be watching this image slowly make its way down your and your friends' news feeds, as if it's, well, diving.

4. It may be helpful to explain what the heck you're doing. If you're using Facebook, you can set up an album called "The Dive: @Platea Project IV" with a description of the images. Here's one suggestion:

From September 8 through 10, I'm participating in "The Dive", a public performance art project organized by the @Platea collective. It's kind of strange but also kind of fun. Learn more about it at http://plateastweets.blogspot.com/2009/08/project-iv-dive-september-8-10.html.

5. By Monday, September 7, we'll post a running list of who's participating, with links to their sites.

6. On September 8, start diving! Dive once a day, dive once an hour. Synchronize dives with friends and do some cool tricks. Dive as much or as little as you want. Dive at different times of day. Have fun and enjoy the end of the summer.


Photo via GoGap on Flickr

Questions? Ideas? Thoughts? Send an @reply to @Platea on Twitter or leave a comment here.

hopes/dreams/fears: A Global Public Art Potluck

A Wordle of all the hopes/dreams/fears entries. Click to view larger.

Summary
Over two months ago, @Platea kicked off Project III: hopes/dreams/fears, a global online public art project formally launched in New York City during a presentation at the Brooklyn Museum and a public installation at the FIGMENT NYC arts festival on Governor's Island. I was looking for something low-key and community-driven for the summer, as so many people spend their time outdoors this time of year.

We meant to run till the end of July but extended it to almost the end of August (it's in fact still going), with crowdsourced hopes, dreams and fears from communities 'round the world adding up to so much more than I, well, had hoped and dreamed for. Here's where we netted out:

Total hopes/dreams/fears? 552.

Some 200 hopes, 150 dreams, and 175 fears (there were some combination ones, which is why the numbers are fuzzy)

Average age of participants: 31 years old
The youngest at age 5, the oldest at age 82
And two pets!

Nearly 20 countries across 4 continents, though concentrated mainly in North America, western Europe and Australia and New Zealand, as mapped out here:

A Collective Unconscious
In many ways, this project has been done before. The ever-popular Post Secret no doubt rested in the back of my mind as we developed the concept, and just today we saw the launch of the Dirty Laundry project. Tapping the Internet for anonymous thoughts is a popular project, but in the wake of a global economic crisis and the rise of social media, I wanted to try this project within the context of the news feed, which has become the central gateway to the Internet for many, if not most, people online these days.

It used to be said that on the Internet, no one knows you're a dog. But these days, with intertwined Facebook networks and shared RSS feeds and verified email addresses, everyone not only knows you're dog, but who your parents are and where you went to school. The idea of anonymity on the Internet is quickly fading away.

This is certainly a good thing. The early 90's fears of the Internet have soon morphed into openness about the idea of a mobile, connected world. And yet, there's a cost, isn't there, and that's the idea of a truly honest dialogue. Status updates these days are so ironic and detached because we don't know who will see what, and it can be difficult to truly expose ourselves to the world.

I think back to my school days, to etchings on the backs of chairs and in bathroom stalls, or to today's brand of street art, as much political as it is an expression of self or group identity. Anonymity can breed a certain level of honesty and deep connection. What I wanted to see is how the Facebook news feed, the Fifth Avenue of the Internet, could serve as a channel for anonymous expression, embedded within the otherwise known entities on most people's friends lists. Does the occasional interruption of one's feed lead to a different experience than, say, manually visiting a blog?

Here were some that caught my eye:

Anonymous hopes that my son will be happy in this world and be able to love other and himself. (NYC 20)

Kazue hopes for ice cream in my hand right now. (Kobe, Japan 36)

Lindsay dreams of being a mother (Winchester 42)

C. Avevedo dreams of crime disappearing (Puerto Rico 16)

k.sparkle fears she will always censor herself in both writing and life. (Carbondale, IL 22)

PG Stonefly fears going backwards (Westbury, Australia 36)

And so many more, day after day, started coming in, and as we posted them to the feed, I started to see honest responses, ironic responses, humorous ones and heartbreaking ones, both current and regional and timeless and universal. Jonny Gray put it best:

As with all of these "crowdsourced," on-line art projects, there is an openness to what constitutes a hope, a fear, or a dream. People will offer these statements as they will. My particular interest is in hearing folks address the prompt as if there are no backslashes between the terms -- as if they run together. What is your hope that is also a fear? What is your dream that embodies both elements of desire and anxiety? As the Tarot suggests, before we can predict the future (however loosely) we must address and assess our hopes AND/or fears.

A page from Jonny's hopes/dreams/fears journal, which he's been passing around the Carbondale, IL, area. See more at the hopes/dreams/fears Facebook page.

A Global Public Art Potluck
Ostensibly, what I wanted to explore was ambient awareness, i.e., how the aggregate of little details can lead to something of a picture of an individual. Could ambient awareness apply to a global community? That's a question I pose to you who experienced the project, but as it picked up, I also realized we were exploring something else: networked public art across continents.

The project began in New York, first during a presentation at the Brooklyn Museum and then at Figment 2009, as @Platea members on the east coast gathered attendees hopes, dreams and fears. We collected more than 200 from people of all walks of life attending the fair. Concurrently, however, we had physical gatherings in Carbondale, IL, with Jonny Gray, who passed out his hopes/dreams/fears journal, and during Worldwide Knit in Public Days with Ingrid Murnane. Christi Nielsen passed out hopes/dreams/fears slips to folks attending Los Angeles's downtown art walk.


h/d/f collection at a cornershop in Winchester, via @innym


Here's what Ingrid had to say:

World Wide Knit in Public Days fell on the 13th and 14th June this year. As part of a library outreach exhibition in Winchester, UK, I taught people to knit. Set up like a living room,’ there were plenty of places to sit and look at patterns from the library or read knitting books. An exhibition of knitted objects from the Knitting Reference Library handling collection were suspended from fishing line in the large bay window and duplicate vintage patterns displayed in the windows. I was invigilating for a good part of the week, and knitted in public like never before (and knitted over half a cardigan). I think that some people thought that we were an art installation, and certainly it felt like that at times!

While there, I collected the hopes, dreams and fears of the exhibition visitors and new knitters. Though at first trepidatious, both young and old took part. Writing their thoughts on slips of paper, they added them to a large brown envelope. Whether living up to the stereotyped English reserve or not, there were plenty who felt that they shouldn’t let anyone else know their inner emotions. Although they didn’t take part at the Knitting Room, some said that they would add their hopes/dreams/fears online. A few people were so embarrassed by the idea of writing their hopes, dreams and fears on paper that they blushed and left the exhibition saying ‘No, I just don’t do that kind of thing.’ I felt as if I was asking too much sometimes; intruding on their inner sanctums. I did wonder afterwards if it was because they knew that I would read them; that I would make a judgement on them.

The hopes, dreams and fears that I collected in Winchester ranged from outright funny to deeply sad and poignant. I’d like to thank all of the exhibition visitors for taking part: I know it wasn’t easy for a lot of you.

Shortly afterward, gatherings popped up at a mall in Hatillo, Puerto Rico, during a dinner party in Australia, even online on Second Life, and folks across the Internet directly entered in their own hopes, dreams and fears. John Casey is working on a Facebook application that will allow the project to continue into perpetuity (stay tuned for more details!). And that's when I started to realize that the hopes/dreams/fears project was becoming a study in global public art, in art that leverages the power of social media to build a global community both online and off.


Nettrice Gaskins's @Platea installation on Second Life

The phrase "global potluck" came to mind recently. In a traditional potluck dinner, people sign up to bring different types of food. Some will go all out and slave over the oven all day, producing a fabulous casserole that would rival any five star chef. Others will make bring their family's secret pasta recipe and a salad. And some will bring chips and soda and good company. Each person contributes to the collective dinner according to their means and talents. In so many ways, hopes/dreams/fears evolved into a global potluck dinner, a public art project where each person shared only as much as they felt comfortable, whether it be a quick anonymous hope or a fully-organized gathering in their part of the world.

As I wrote recently in Art21 Blog, the runaway success of Antony Gormley's One & Other points to how the everyone-can-play ethic of social media is spilling into the art world, as tens of thousands enter a lottery to try their hand at contemporary public performance art. With hopes/dreams/fears, a project that allowed for numerous levels of involvement, this public art project took shape in both the physical and digital worlds, around the world and within local communities, and I was thrilled with how it's come out.

We may rely heavily on the Internet, but we cannot touch it, taste it or experience the indescribable feeling of togetherness that one gleans from face-to-face interac­tion, from the reassuring sensation of being among a crowd of one's neighbors. Seeing one another in these situations reinforces the importance of sharing resources, of working together, of bal­ancing our own needs with those of others. Online, these values become notions that are much more easily suspended to further our own self-interest. Not surprisingly, political movements that begin online must have a real-world component; otherwise they evaporate and dissolve into the blur of other activities.

John Freeman in the Wall Street Journal

The next @Platea project will be announced next week, and it will take us back into the realm of public performance online. But I'd love hear what you've thought so far about hopes/dreams/fears, especially as someone who's been following the feed. Please feel free to leave your comments here. And of course, we are still posting h/d/f's onto the Facebook page and the @Platea Twitter feed, so if you aren't doing so yet, please add yourself!