the work of independent media art * software in the context of independent media art * types of independence economic independence, independence of ideas programmer / author * "the media" -> typically a continues presence precarious continuity in the (electronic) media of individuals * forms of continuity in software (media) art source code rapid obsolescence (esp. w/ Internet) software infrastructure: gateway and nemesis * code as language analogues of vocabulary, growth, ownership, expertise, etc. * code as cultural sphere the commons the bases of freedom / free cage i've been ruminating on the presentation and i would like to emphasize different modes of collaboration as they relate to software and art. let me know if maciej or pamela are already planning to address the collaborative dynamics between artists and programmers. of course collaboration is already central to a lot of the software i've been making. but this direction also appeals to me because it is a softer way of addressing the relationship of my art and activist politics. i have some documentation of ongoing projects in greece and spain that i'd like to present (as opposed to showing my web site, which never feels quite right). there should still be time to touch on themes like open source and developing a foundation for the expressive/cultural dimensions of software. One of my longest running creative preoccupations has been a series of calendars that I began making when I was eleven years old. It has become a form of artist's book that reflects what I think about and the kinds of images I'm making. But it also would be accurate to say that in recent years the calendar reflects the kinds of images that other people make using software that I have written. I have enlisted visitors to my web site in the process of producing content for both the calendar and the web site itself. People provide me with free labor. But most don't seem to mind. They aren't being asked to pay anything to experience the site, so there is a kind of reciprocity between my labor and theirs. In some cases I'm providing useful tools, too. People are free to use the images they make however they wish. In a way these images are "mine," but I am frequently surprised and impressed by the images themselves. The contributions of people who visit my web site are a welcome intangible factor in my creative process. My interest in process art began in college when I was painting. I used to splash turpentime on my paintings and turn them upside down to subvert my own compositional habits. Now I am relying on anonymous "visiting artists" who work remotely from other towns and countries. They share their unique perspectives in the pictures and words they leave behind on my web site. I feed off of this public participation. The kind of sofware art I'm making is completed by public participation. Telecommunication enables a direct feedback loop between the artist and the public. My artwork also becomes a formally complex medium for anonymous communication. It seems to me that public moods are reflected and digested in this space of free expression. I'm sure I've left out a few of the up-beat things that I like about net art. Nevertheless in the interest of brevity I'll now turn to some less wonderous aspects of this field of endeavors. Unfortunately, along with this cyberspace venue comes a degree of subordination to the operating systems, browser software, and plugins that people are using. The transience of this technical context might not be problematic if I approached the Internet as a space for temporary exhibitions. But I don't. I want to present systems and experiences that have duration and that give a retrospective view of my work over a series of years. How do you attain durability and continuity in media art when it's reasonable to expect that change will be a constant for the foreseeable future? The situation is especially volatile and aggravating for telecommunications software. With everything from entertainment to banking and surveillance moving into cyberspace, the shape of things to come is being affected by industrial and political forces that appear to be largely indifferent to artists, cultural affairs, and educational imperatives. In short, the Internet may make it possible for me to be independent in some respects, but the dependence on a commercial infrastructure for access to the public is troubling. When I survey the options available to me, the most promising basis on which to build a body of work is free, open source software. That is why every artwork I make is tested and designed for compatibility with free, open source operating systems and the software that is available to users of such systems. I didn't distribute the source codes for the software I wrote before I began using the Internet. But ever since I first pointed my browser at an URL and viewed the source of an HTML web page, the viral potential of open source code has been clear to me. When code does something people like and can be easily copied, people will reproduce it. This is a second hedge on continuity. If the precise form of an artwork is lost, it may be possible for significant aspects of the software I write to survive in my work or someone else's. Dedicated to a public orientation and open to change but not committed to every passing technology.