BOB BICKNELL-KNIGHT: "EVERY DAY WE REPLICATE THE IDEA OF WHAT LIFE SHOULD BE LIKE"

In this interview, British artist Bob-Bicknell-Knight discusses the effects of simulation on everyday life and the illusion of control of digital media.

Bob Bicknell-Knight is a London-based artist working in moving image, installation, sculpture and other digital mediums. Surveillance, the internet and the consumer capitalist culture within today’s society are the main issues surrounding his work alongside an intense fascination in the various cultures associated with video games and online communities. He explores these themes using tools and technologies, which are relatable but not restricted to art.

His 2016 artwork Simulated Ignorance is included in TRAVELOGUE.

Matteo Bittanti: Can you briefly describe your education and upbringing?

Bob Bicknell-Knight: Until a few years ago I had lived solely in the English countryside, only recently moving to London to undertake a degree in Fine Art at Chelsea. I now find myself focusing on ideas surrounding internet surveillance and video game aesthetics/ideas. A lot of my formative years were spent going on walks and exploring virtual worlds, occasionally going to museums and art galleries when I had the chance.

Bob Bicknell-Knight, Consumerist Dissonance, 2016

"This piece considers the utopian relationships and spaces that we encounter within video game worlds and the escapism that is sought out within computer games as well as the futility associated with the accumulation of consumerist products." (Bob Bicknell-Knight)

Matteo Bittanti: Why did you begin to incorporate video games in your practice? What do you find especially fascinating about this medium? Its interactivity? Agency? Aesthetics? Theatricality? Or are you more interested about the online communities that blossom around games?

Bob Bicknell-Knight: I’ve always played and enjoyed video games and have only recently begun to create work about them, due mostly to Jon Rafman and his extensive use of video games and their aesthetics within his own practice. When I saw his work, it was the first time that I realised one could actually make something that was valued, interesting and cohesive with the aesthetic and medium of video games. A lot of the aspects of video games that you’ve mentioned I’m interested in, especially the idea of interactivity and the communities that are formed around certain games. In terms of interactivity, with other forms of media, one rarely has any choice over what happens or any control over the flow of the experience; these are the two unique qualities of video games that sets them apart from standard tv shows or films. Rejecting the passive experience of simply viewing something through a screen is incredibly important to me. This interest in interactivity is hinted at within the installation, Simulated Ignorance, with the presence of a game controller, suggesting a sense of control to the viewer.

The extensive relationships that are formed through various online games are also intriguing to me, just listening to the passion in people talking about a raid in World of Warcraft or talking about a friend they met through Guild Wars definitely hints at the future of how we will interact with one another on a daily basis. A game that combines both interactivity and an online community incredibly well is Cloud Chamber, with the main body of the experience being simply posting on a message board, hoping that your particular ‘theory’ gets up-voted by the community in order to progress to the next level of the game. That progress is dependent on the friends that you make within this online experience is slightly disturbing to me, yet again hinting at possibilities to come.

Bob Bicknell-Knight, An Undignified Failure, 2016

Matteo Bittanti: Digital games often create parallel, alternative experiences for their users. How do you relate to the complex relation between reality and simulation? How do you address this tension through your work and especially Simulated Ignorance?

Bob Bicknell-Knight: At this point the differences between reality and simulation are becoming increasingly blurred in offline and online cultures. Like Jim Carrey in The Truman Show, we find ourselves replicating an idea of what life should be like on a daily basis, often this is subliminally enforced by various medias to cater to the consumer. On the other hand, however, people are becoming more and more detached from their online self, creating multiple personas to embody when browsing ‘Web 2.0’, not fully realising the implications of such acts of apparent transgression. In my installation work, Simulated Ignorance, I’m seeking to highlight the multiple choices one has by providing the illusion of choice that the viewer is presented with, both challenging and confusing their preconceptions of violence and free will in video games.

Bob Bicknell-Knight, Fabricated Loss, 2016

"A work exploring the tedium of daily life, the relationship between humans and technology as well as the idea of community." (Bob Bicknell-Knight)

Matteo Bittanti: How do video game aesthetics affect the overall impact of your work? What comes first when developing a new project, the concept or the medium?

Bob Bicknell-Knight: I feel that art works using the aesthetics of video games sometimes cloud the overall concept, allowing the viewer to simply focus on the animation of a video piece rather than considering what it’s actually about, dismissing it as ‘just about video games’ and only observing the ‘first layer’ of the work. I also think that using video games themselves for art in things like machinima have previously been looked at with disdain in the art world because of their seemingly ‘easy’ creation. Obviously this isn’t the case. Fortunately, this attitude towards video game artwork is slowly becoming obsolete, with more people becoming interested in this type of artwork as the video game industry continues to grow and flourish. My work always begins with the concept. I never set out to make a video or a sculpture as this would restrict me to those specific mediums when creating the work. When thinking about this question, I think of Ryan Gander, an artist without a medium whose work always begins with an idea, who then finds the medium best fitting to the initial thought, rather than being constrained by a material or technique that he’s learned over a number of years.

Matteo Bittanti: Can you describe the creative process behind the production of Simulated Ignorance?

Bob Bicknell-Knight: A lot of my work begins with extensive research via the internet, from reading online articles to watching YouTube videos. At the time of this particular work’s creation, I’d been looking into the misguided activist Jack Thompson, a figurehead in various campaigns to ban violent video games with the argument that teenagers use them as ‘murder simulators’ to rehearse their violent plans. I knew that I wanted to make a piece of work about the preconceptions that people have about video games from watching ill-informed news articles. It also transpired that during this bout of research I’d been playing Grand Theft Auto 5, simply exploring the world, and as my time with the game progressed I began to get bored of endlessly shooting at things and decided to do what most people do at some point when playing an iteration of the GTA series; simply drive around the virtual world as if it were real life, sticking to the ‘rules of the road’. After a while I realised that the action of driving around in GTA was relatable enough to both the ‘gamer’ and ‘non-gamer’ and could form the basis of an interesting connection between the ideas surrounding violent video games that I’d been exploring in my research, with a game world that was incredibly appropriate to the subject matter.

LEONARDO SANG: THE ART OF THE VIRTUAL ROAD TRIP

In this interview, excerpted from a longer conversation that will be featured in the TRAVELOGUE catalogue, Brazilian artist and photographer Leonardo Sang describes his fascination for video game photography.

Leonardo Sang is a graphic designer and photographer based in São Paulo, Brazil. For the past five years, he has been working on Virtual Reality Photography (VRP), an ongoing photographic investigation on what separates digital worlds from the so-called "reality". By photographing videogame environments, Sang raises important questions about the legitimacy of this binary. His work has been presented in several international exhibitions, including FLAG.CX Agency in São Paulo and Porto Alegre (2013) and Squares Events #1 exhibition in Montpellier and Toulouse (2013).

Sang's Backseats in Video Games is featured in TRAVELOGUE.

Matteo Bittanti: What is VRP and how does it relate to "conventional" digital photography?

Leonardo Sang: VRP stands for "Virtual Reality Photography". In this project, I use video games as a platform for everyday photography. My goal is to show how photographic concepts and techniques can be applied to video games. The result is called game photography. All the pictures that I take are developed just like in "real world" photography: basic compositing, alignment, lines, geometry and the likes still apply. Sometimes the outcome is just a curious snapshot. I'm not interested in creating necessarily a "visually realistic" picture. I am simply trying to rethink photography through a different medium. I prefer a minimal composition scene to highly complex shots. I also try to create "moody" scenarios. Open world and sandbox games usually allow me to achieve that goal. Sometimes interesting images might appear at complete random moments, caused by situations that I do not control. I try to catch them, before they disappear. VRP was inspired by Robert Overweg, a Belgian artist who does terrific work with video games. His Shot by Robert project was especially inspiring.

Matteo Bittanti: The road trip is a staple of American photography. Several important practitioners - from Robert Frank to Stephen Shore, from Jacob Holdt to Alec Soth - have worked in this genre. When it comes to game photography, however, very few artists have used racing games. What prompted you to take screenshots from the back seat of virtual automobiles? What kind of games did you use? Can you describe your process?

Leonardo Sang:  It all started with a cutscene in Battlefield 3, where the protagonist is in the back seat and the other characters are seated up front, talking and driving, getting ready to reach their objective. In that moment, I've found myself looking outside the car windows and completely ignoring the discussion. I was clueless when we arrived at the destination and frankly, I did not care much about the mission. The landscape is what interested me. Shooting and killing, not so much. Around that time I was obsessed by Project C.A.R.S., a very realistic looking racing game. I followed its development process and played the early demo builds. One of my favourite things to do in the game was to drive very slow, like I would do in a regular automobile, cruising the city. By doing that, I was able to translate the feeling of "real" driving on a road, alone, not caring about speeding, performance, or goals. I was just enjoying the experience of being there, in the game, looking around. To me, the journey inside the car is much more emotional than reaching the destination. To take a photo, I record my performance through the replay option. Basically, I document my previous driving session and I can use the file to experiment. The recording is a copy of my driving: I do not have to control the car any longer, I can become a full photographer and pick the best angle. I place the camera behind the driver, in the backseat, even if the car in the picture does not have backseats, emulating the experience of a road trip, sitting the middle, and observing the passing landscape in complete silence. I turn off the soundtrack. I just look. I have experimented with games like Project C.A.R.S. WRC 3, Dirt Rally, and Battlefield 3. Most of my photographs are in black & white because I think road trips should be shot in this palette.

Leonardo Sang, Route 66, 2014 (from Across the USA series).

Matteo Bittanti: You have developed several projects as a game-photographer. What are the main affinities and differences between digital photography (from DSLR cameras to smartphone) and your practice with video games? Do you regard virtual photography as a genre of photography or as a something else altogether, for instance, screengrabbing?

Leonardo Sang: The differences between video game photography and digital photography has more to do with form than content. At a conceptual level, these two practices are very similar. The main difference can be found at hardware level. A digital camera allows the photographer to control important details and variables like speed, focus, depth of focus, lenses, etc, which are essential to create a specific image, but in the end, the outcome is a digital files: a raw file, a jpeg, a tiff... Some video games today include features of modern DSLR cameras, not to mention sophisticated in-game photo editors, although they are not comparable to the power and flexibility of either a Canon Mark III or Photoshop. However, in video games, you get the freedom of movement, you can experiment, shoot from different angles and capture details that would be very hard, if not impossible, in the real world. Game photography allows you to do and see things that do not exist, surreal situations that only belong to the ludic world. My role as a photographer is to document these instances. In my opinion, video game photography is a new genre of photography and should be treated as such. 

Leonardo Sang, Backseats in Video Games, 2015

Matteo Bittanti: What is your relationship with video games, and specifically racing games?

Leonardo Sang: Video games have been a constant presence in my life. I have been playing digital games since I was a kid. I have always been amazed that such amazing worlds could exist on the screen, worlds made of pixels and bright colors. These spaces are "real" and alive to me. I also love cars and I found myself naturally driven to racing games, no pun intended. Initially, the vast majority of racing games that I played featured "arcade" controls and physics, which was very cool at first, but it felt very odd to make a turn at 250 km/h in the rain and be perfectly fine. Eventually, I started playing more realistic games, simulation-like titles. They really show you that racing is not that simple and requires a lot of skill and effort. I found simulation games much more compelling and challenging than arcade games. 

Leonardo Sang, GTA V, 2015

Matteo Bittanti: Today, companies like nVidia are actively promoting the practice of game photography with their latest graphic cards, all in the name of "digital realism". In a sense, a fringe practice is becoming institutionalized and few genres are becoming dominant. Something similar happened to machinima in the early Zeroes. Do you think that hyper-realism will become the de facto standard of game photography or do you think that artists will push for more experimental, abstract styles?

Leonardo Sang: I have already seen people focusing on hyper-realism. They go for ultra-detailed graphics in their game photography practice. In fact, there is a huge, dedicated community of "hyper-realist game photographers" on the net. Their approach is very specific and their criterion for quality could not be clearer. But there are all sorts of game photographic styles nowadays. I think that the new tools and technologies that manufactures are providing will benefit all the communities, not just the photographers obsessed with realism. The more resources are available, the more experimental projects can - and will - become. 

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VALENTINA TANNI: "THE ITALIAN ARTWORLD IS TECHNOLOGICALLY CHALLENGED"

La traduzione italiana è sotto

In this excerpt from a longer interview that will be published in the upcoming TRAVELOGUE catalog, art critic and curator Valentina Tanni discusses the idiosyncrasies of the Italian art world and her passion for racing games.

Valentina Tanni will join a conversation titled CRASH: GAME AESTHETICS AND CONTEMPORARY ART on Sunday September 11 at 11:30 with Isabelle Arvers. Click here for more information. Click here to read an interview with Arvers. 

Valentina Tanni, Photo courtesy of ArtTribune

Matteo Bittanti: What does an art critic and a curator like yourself consider machinima? A genre of video art? An expression of game fandom far removed from the Artworld? Or something else altogether? I am specifically thinking of artists like Jon Rafman, Cory Arcangel, Body Condon or Ian Cheng who use game aesthetics, technologies, and themes in their work but essentially navigate a contemporary art context.

Valentina Tanni: It’s always hard - and perhaps too limiting - to come up with a rigid, all-inclusive definition for artworks. Besides, I am reluctant to classify things, although I am am fully aware that, in some cases, taxonomies and classifications can be useful, especially when it comes to historicize movements or trends. The task becomes even harder in relation to such a complex practice as machinima. Machinima is imbued with so many influences. It also brings together different competencies: programming, design, screenplay, and filmmaking. The relationship between machinima and video art is strong, but perhaps its connection to cinema is even stronger. As for the role of machinima in the artworld: as far I can see, this artform is still largely misunderstood if not plainly rejected. The artists that you mentioned - especially Rafman and Arcangel - have been able to introduce their peculiar vision because they have wrapped gaming in an “artsy” conceptual architecture that makes their works understandable and even palatable to certain kind of audience. The medium of the video game is still considered a “minor art”, if not mere entertainment. Even today, entertainment is seen as something that negates art, its polar opposite. Shocking, but true. Video games are accepted in the artworld only when they are appropriated, like other bits of popular culture or advertising. But for gaming to be taken seriously, it must be “legitimized” by the intervention of the artist.

Hito Steyerl, Factory of the Sun, 2015 (Photo by Matteo Bittanti)

Matteo Bittanti: You were among the first, in Italy, to emphasize the role and function of video games within contemporary art practices thanks to your substantial critical and curatorial practice. Sadly, it seems to me that Italy has never really responded to - or even understood - this phenomenon, both on a critical and pragmatic level. I look at France and I see a country that readily embraces new ideas, tools, and aesthetics to make art. Not incidentally, France is at the forefront of machinima. The same can be said of Germany: in her writings, Hito Steyerl provides a sophisticated critical reading of game theory and also makes outstanding work that uses game aesthetics to speak about the contemporary moment. Consider Factory of the Sun, the centerpiece of the German Pavilion at the 2015 Venice Biennial - and by far, the most interesting work on display, alongside Harun Farocki’s retrospective. Italy on the other hand, often seems stuck in the 1970s… I experience a sense of cognitive dissonance when I visit most Italian art galleries or museums. It is not surprising that the vast majority of Italian artists who work/worked with video games live abroad: Eva & Franco Mattes, Paolo Pedercini, Marco Mendeni just to name a few… How do you explain this paradox?

Valentina Tanni: Unfortunately, it is not a paradox. My critical and curatorial practice - alongside the activity of few other critics and curators - has been unable to take root and find a receptive audience here in Italy, even though the effort has been outstanding, both in terms of exhibitions and publications. The Italian artworld is technologically challenged: its digital literacy is tragically low. Italy is still tied to a Romantic idea of art, where the humanities are considered disjointed from any other discipline. Here, technology is considered a threat not simply to personal expression, but to mankind as a whole. We are quickly improving on several levels, but when it comes to the relationship between art and technology, Italy lags behind the rest of Europe. Often, I find myself in the position of reminding my interlocutors that I am an art historian so that they would take my research seriously. They think that my interest for technology diminishes the intellectual rigor of my studies, because they automatically tend to equate technology with entertainment. And don’t even get me started on internet memes and amateur production...

Ian Cheng, Emissary in the Squat of Gods, 2015. Courtesy of the artist, Pilar Corrias, Standard (Oslo)

Matteo Bittanti: TRAVELOGUE investigates, among other things, the notion of virtual driving and, above all, the epistemological short-circuit caused by simulations. How do you relate to cars and games? What do you see from the windshield and on the screen?

Valentina Tanni: My relationship to video games has always been problematic. They fascinate me, but I also feel the need to distance myself from gaming. For a long time, I have a been a compulsive player. Granted, this experience enriched me on several levels. I have learned so much both about myself and video games. At the same time, however, I had to stop playing because I tend to get completely sucked in. Incidentally, one of the games I love the most is a racing game: MotorStorm Apocalypse. It is set in a post-apocalyptic metropolis. You drive your car as fast as possible in a devastated landscape populated by post-industrial ruins, crumbling skyscrapers, buildings on fire, and sinking piers. For the record, I have always sucked at these kind of games. I tend to quickly lose control of my vehicle because I get distracted by the scenery. I cannot stay focused on the road, I just want to look around and marvel at all the details. This game is an integral part of my memories. I feel as if I did take a journey somewhere, as I visited "real" places. Those environments are now part of my visualscape like the meadows of Ireland, the skyscrapers of New York, and the Nevada desert. My brain is incapable of distinguishing between the windshield of my car and the television screen… Besides, living in Rome poses additional challenges. Driving in the City is like navigating the spaces of a videogame. You must avoid the pedestrian who crosses the street when and where she feels like it, the driver that refuses to give way, ignoring the most elementary rules, the traffic cop who stops you at the last second, and the jungle of double parking...

MotorSport: Apocalypse, Evolution Studios, Sony Interactive Entertainment, 2011

VALENTINA TANNI (b. 1976) is a contemporary art critic and curator. Her research focuses on the relationship between art and new media, with special attention to Internet culture. In 2002, she graduated in Art History from La Sapienza University in Rome with a Master’s thesis on net.art and in the following years she published a great number of articles, reviews and essays about new media art, web culture and contemporary art in general. She is the founder of Random Magazine, one of the first web columns entirely dedicated to net.art and she is the co-founder of Exibart and Artribune. She also directed the online version of the magazine FMR (FMR Online). She curated the net.art section of Media Connection (Rome and Milan, 2001), the exhibitions Netizens (Rome, 2002), L’oading. Genetically Modified Videogames (Syracuse, 2003), Maps and Legends. When Photography Met the Web (Rome, 2010), Datascapes (Rome, 2011), Hit the Crowd. Photography in the Age of Crowdsourcing (Rome, 2012), Nothing to See Here (Milan, 2013), Eternal September (Ljubljana, 2014) and numerous solo shows. She collaborates with many digital arts festivals and she’s been one of the guest curators of FotoGrafia. International Photography Festival in Rome from 2010 to 2012. She has written articles for Italian and international magazines and she teaches at universities and private institutions. Tanni lives and works in Rome. 

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Valentina Tanni parteciperà all'incontro CRASH: ESTETICHE VIDEOLUDICHE E ARTE CONTEMPORANEA che si terrà domenica 11 settembre alle ore 11:30 insieme a Isabelle Arvers. Cliccate qui per ulteriori informazioni. Cliccate qui per leggere un'intervista con Arvers.

Matteo Bittanti: In quanto critica e curatrice, come consideri il machinima, oggi? Un genere di video arte? Una forma espressiva inestricabilmente legata alla game culture/fandom e quindi lontanissima dall'Artworld? Oppure altro ancora? Penso ad artisti come Jon Rafman che pur pescando da quell'immaginario, si muove essenzialmente in un contesto di arte contemporanea. Lo stesso vale per personaggi come Cory Arcangel, Brody Condon oppure Ian Cheng...

Valentina Tanni: È sempre difficile, oltre che riduttivo, scegliere una definizione univoca per le opere d'arte. Io poi sono sempre stata allergica alle categorizzazioni, anche se mi rendo conto che in alcuni casi possono tornare utili per la comprensione e la sistematizzazione, soprattutto storica, di alcune tendenze. Il compito si fa anche più arduo nel caso del machinima perché si tratta di una pratica davvero complessa, che si nutre di tante influenze e unisce competenze molto diverse: programmazione, grafica, sceneggiatura, regia. I legami con la videoarte sono innegabili, ma forse sono ancora più forti quelli con il cinema. Per quanto riguarda l'artworld: la ricezione di prodotti come il machinima è ancora molto difficile. Gli artisti che citi, soprattutto Rafman e Arcangel, sono riusciti a far passare certe estetiche solo perché filtrate attraverso un'architettura concettuale molto artsy, che rende le loro opere appetibili e comprensibili per un certo tipo di pubblico. Il videogioco è ancora considerato un'arte “minore” quando non addirittura puro e semplice intrattenimento. E oggi come oggi l'intrattenimento viene considerato un concetto antitetico a quello di arte. Incredibile, ma vero. Il videogame viene accettato solo in quanto fonte per operazioni di appropriazione, alla stregua della pubblicità e di altri prodotti della cultura popolare. Ma è qualcosa che deve essere poi “elevato” dalla mano dell'artista.

Matteo Bittanti: Tu sei stata la prima, in Italia, a sottolineare l'importanza del medium videoludico all'interno delle prassi artistiche contemporanee attraverso una attività di critica e di curatela di grandissimo spessore. Eppure, l'Italia ha dimostrato scarsa attenzione al fenomeno - sia sul piano critico che pragmatico - rispetto a nazioni come la Francia, che ha una lunga tradizione di innovazione artistica con i new media oppure la Germania dove artisti del calibro di Hito Steyerl usano il videogioco per spiegare la contemporaneità - non a caso, l'opera più interessante vista all'ultima Biennale dell'Arte di Venezia era Factory of the Sun insieme alla retrospettiva su Harun Farocki. Spesso, quando visito una galleria d'arte o un museo italiano sperimento effetti di dissonanza cognitiva... Come se l'Italia fosse rimasta congelata su una concezione dell'arte da fine anni Settanta. Non a caso, gli artisti italiani che ci cimentano/si sono cimentati con il videogioco - dai Mattes a Marco Mendeni, passando per Pedercini - vivono tutti all'estero. Come spieghi questo paradosso?

Valentina Tanni: Purtroppo non è un paradosso. Il mio lavoro di critica e curatela in questo ambito, insieme a quello di pochi altri in Italia, non ha certo messo radici, nonostante gli sforzi siano stati notevoli, sia in termini di mostre che di pubblicazioni. L'Italia è un Paese scarsamente alfabetizzato tecnologicamente e tristemente legato a una concezione estetica di stampo romantico, dove la sfera umanistica viene ancora considerata separata dalle altre discipline. E dove la tecnologia viene considerata una minaccia per l'espressione, quando non per l'umanità in genere. Stiamo facendo grandi passi avanti in questi ultimi anni, ma siamo indietro anni luce rispetto ad altri Paesi europei. Io mi trovo spesso a dover ricordare ai miei interlocutori che sono uno storico dell'arte affinché la mia ricerca venga presa sul serio. Tendono a pensare che il mio interesse per la tecnologia mi tolga dello spessore intellettuale, avvicinandomi pericolosamente alla superficialità dell'enterteinment. Per non parlare di quando mi occupo di memes e culture amatoriali!

Matteo Bittanti: Il tema della mostra,TRAVELOGUE, è quello della guida virtuale - e dei corto-circuiti epistemologici che si generano attraverso la simulazione elettronica. Qual è il tuo rapporto con l'automobile e con il videogioco? Cosa vedi dal parabrezza e cosa sugli schermi?

Valentina Tanni: Con i videogiochi ho sempre avuto un rapporto un po' malato. Mi piacciono moltissimo, ma proprio per questo sono costretta periodicamente ad allontanarli. Sono stata una giocatrice compulsiva per tanto tempo: si tratta di un'esperienza che mi ha arricchito enormemente e mi ha insegnato tanto, sia sui videogiochi che sul nostro rapporto con essi. Allo stesso tempo però, ho dovuto prendere un po' le distanze, perché tendo a farmi risucchiare. Uno dei giochi che ricordo con maggiore affetto è proprio un racing game che ho comprato per caso diversi anni fa. S'intitola MotorStorm: Apocalypse ed è ambientato in una città post-apocalittica: si corre in mezzo alle rovine, tra palazzi che crollano o vanno a fuoco, su tetti che si sbriciolano e moli che si inabissano. Non sono mai stata brava in questo genere di gioco, tendo a perdere il controllo del mezzo piuttosto di frequente, perché mi distraggo a guardare il “panorama”, non riesco a restare concentrata troppo a lungo sulla strada, tuttavia quel gioco fa parte dei miei ricordi come se fosse un viaggio in una località geografica. Quei luoghi fanno parte del mio bagaglio visivo come i panorami irlandesi, i grattacieli di New York o il deserto del Nevada. Insomma per il mio cervello c'è poca differenza tra il parabrezza della mia macchina e quello della supercar del gioco. Poi, abitando a Roma, a volte guidare per la città è esattamente come guidare nei videogiochi: devi evitare il passante che attraversa dove gli pare, la macchina che non dà la precedenza, il vigile che ti ferma all'ultimo secondo, la giungla delle auto in doppia fila...

Nata nel 1976, VALENTINA TANNI è una critica d'arte contemporanea e una curatrice. S'interessa principalmente del rapporto tra arte-e nuove tecnologie, in particolare della cultura della rete. Ha ottenuto un Master in Storia dell'Arte presso l'Università la Sapienza di Roma con una tesi sulla net-art e negl ianni successivi ha scritto numerosi saggi, articoli e recensioni sulla cultra del web e sull'arte contemporanea. È tra i fondatori di Exbibart e lavora per EMMI (Edizioni Multi ModaliItaliane) in area Coordinamento e Direzione Editoriale. Nel 2000 ha fondato ExiWebArt, prima rubrica italiana dedicata alla Net Art, e Random Magazine (2001), un notiziario quotidiano sulla new media art. Ha lavorato come consulente per Monti & Taft, società di progettazione e marketing culturale e come Direttore Editoriale Web per il Gruppo FMR. Ha curato mostre come Media Connection (Roma e Milano, 2001), Netizens (Roma, 2002), L’oading. Genetically Modified Videogames (Siracusa, 2003), Maps and Legends. When Photography Met the Web (Roma, 2010), Datascapes (Rome, 2011), Hit the Crowd. Photography in the Age of Crowdsourcing (Roma, 2012), Nothing to See Here (Milano, 2013), Eternal September (Ljubljana, 2014) e collabora con i festival di arti digitali Interferenze e Peam. Ha scritto articoli e approfondimenti per varie testate specializzate (Exibart, Flash Art, Gulliver, Campus, Time Out Roma, etc) e ha lavorato come docente per istituzioni pubbliche e private (Università La Sapienza di Roma; Università degli studi di Udine, IED, Accademia del Lusso, Accademia delle Arti e delle Nuove Tecnologie). Vive e lavora a Roma.