Solemn Contemplation of The Digital Realm on Ryoji Ikeda's scan.tron.flux
- Transforming data into performing arts
In
today’s data-driven age, more artists have created artworks using data as forms
and knowledge abstraction. The forms of art they produce can be very diverse as
well. One form of art that rarely captures the current era of data as a form is
performing art. As an art that centers around human presence, the use of data
in performing art might always require the body of the human who performs the
data. Hence, the data exists in the performance as a represented matter through
acts and bodies of humans. Interestingly, Ryoji Ikeda decides to put aside the
presence of humans by fully allowing the data to perform on its own as a series
of audiovisual ensembles in his scan.tron.flux
exhibition.
Ryoji
Ikeda was a member of a Japanese collective called Dumb Type, which was started in the mid-'80s. Ikeda joined Dumb Type in the mid-90s. The group
consisted of performers on stage, the lighting designer, the scenographers,
composers, computer programmers, architects, designers, and graphic designers.[1]His
decades of experience as a performing artist with a deep focus on the interplay
of lights, sounds, data, and computational mechanisms have been translated into
various forms of art. With more than four decades of artistry, Ikeda has firmly
put his works among the most significant media artworks.
Exhibited in Urban Forest Cipete, Jakarta, on January 26th - April 13th, 2025, scan.tron.flux exhibition presented three works: data.flux[n01], data.scan[n01-9], and data.tron. These three works are part of the datamatics series; an art project that explores the potential to perceive the invisible multi-substance of data that permeates our world by presenting them in multiple experiments of various forms that seek to materialise pure data.[2] Compared to most media art exhibitions that tend to be filled with cacophonies with a distinctive sense of technological chaos, scan.tron.flux welcomes the audience by presenting three sturdy black rooms filled with flickering screens and the sacred hum of computery sounds. Rather than a cacophony, the exhibition engulfs the audience in a solemn contemplation of the digital realm.
A
small tunnel-like hallway leads us into the exhibition space. On the ceiling,
an installation of an elongated screen presenting a stream of moving numbers
invites the audience to look up while basking their hearings in the newfound
composed computary sounds. There is a humming sound with some chimes appearing
from time to time. The composition of sounds moves almost in sync with the
movement of lights and the numbers on the screen. I wonder: What data is this?
Why is everything in numeric form?
As we enter the second room, a big rectangular screen draws our attention. I arrived at the time the screen showed a view that might belong to the screen on a back end processing with frequent emergence of blue and red lines moving up and down. The frequent and fast sounds of dings remind me of electrical glitches as well. It increasingly transfixes my body into the screen, propelling me to move closer… closer… and closer to the gigantic screen.
The movement of those lines on the screen reminds me of the experience of working manually with lines-based moving images in which a sequence of film is made from thousands of still images consisting of lines with varying positions. By the time the screen shows me a fast ubiquitous all-numbers view, it is hard not to feel surprised. Especially when the numbers move very rapidly and then they suddenly stop, only to move rapidly again. Titling this as data.tron, Ikeda seems to be very keen in showing us how our world is indeed constructed by ever-seamlessly-numerous repeated patterns which begin in a single solitary smaller unit. Moving further and then closer to the screen, we recognize both the details and the aggregation. The tapestry of numbers takes us to a contemplation about the smallest particles weaving our world, as referred to by the word tron in the title to denote a particle or subatomic element composing a bigger unit of element.
The last area consists of nine screens situated upward on nine separate pedestals like nine islands. Each screen shows a different data set and data visualization that moves on nine separate compositions. Some data show the composition of various particular patterns when computers crashed, mapping of DNA sequence of chromosome, studies of Morse codes, mathematical grid pattern, protein structure, sequence of human genome, mathematically coordinated points, mapping of the universe, and the metadata of the datamatics project itself. Meanwhile, Ikeda composed different sounds that are similar to the clacking of electrical problems with light compositions emerging from the compositions of data on the screens. He utilizes the negative space on the images to emit the light play in the room. At a certain point, the screens will move in synchronized composition to form a spectacle of light and sound. The performance is fully conducted by electrical and computational mechanisms, omitting the presence of the human body as the operator of the machines in the performance.
The
whole exhibition itself is a strong reminder about the binary system that
becomes the basis of the digital realm. The stark black-and-white spatial
experience, along with the solemn yet distinctive electrical ding-clack-hum,
successfully stimulates the audience's sensory experiences on the illusion of
the back end and the form of data. Ikeda is known for working with light in
many of his works. It is apparent to witness this in his current scan.tron.flux exhibition. Instead of
using the projection of light, Ikeda chooses to leverage the flickering lights
emitted by the screens that project the visualization of multiple networked
data points. The data in this context has been transformed into an experience
of lights and sounds to inspire us into contemplation on how our world is
constructed by multiple repetitive patterns of movement and stillness, weaving
into a gigantic complex nuance called life.
Even
though the composition seems deliberate, there is a clear and finite
composition. That composition is short and yet being generated as a loop which
gives an illusion of infinity. If music decorates time and visual art decorates
space, then performing art holds its reign precisely within the enmeshment of
time and space. Within such enmeshment, Ikeda has shown us data as matter. His data.flux flowing above our head, his data.tron drawing in our gazes through a
gigantic screen, and the dazzling data.scan
performing art of a ghost-like play engulfs our presence in the last part of
the exhibition.
The performing arts are performed fully by electrical devices driven by the composition of the videos containing sequences of data that Ikeda has composed into an orchestrated audiovisual play. The electrical devices emitting lights and sounds are the performers, instead of the human or Ikeda himself. He omitted his existence and deciphered the human presence into data like genome sequences and DNA sequences. Everything has been extracted into mathematical presence in the form of numbers, points, lines, and finally, electrical lights and sounds. This mathematical presence is not simply elements from visual arts but also a form of representation that can exist in a computational medium. In a computational environment, data is a representation a computer can read, transform, and analyze.[3] These computational forms also allow data to be represented in the forms that verbal and textual language fails to capture. From here, there is a sense that computational and visual forms share a closer affinity than computational and verbal or textual forms, as both rely on patterns, structures, and spatial logic to convey meaning beyond the constraints of language. It also underscores that datasets are also objects structured in ways that allow them to exist within a computational medium.[5] This understanding makes it possible for the data to transcend its conventional function, emerging as an audiovisual phenomena and even taking on the form of performing art.
Data as knowledge
Beyond
amazement at Ikeda's contemplation of the digital realm, one curiosity
persists: What data does he use? To emphasize the nature of representation
itself, what is being represented through these data in this exhibition? Ikeda
has transcended data to be a matter we can experience as an aesthetic sensory
stimuli. But how about these data as its basic conventional function? What data
are these?
The last artwork is the only piece with clear statements and references on the type of data Ikeda uses. However, the two previous works don’t provide any hints about the data Ikeda uses before he transforms them into numbers or lines. How can we approach an understanding beyond the spectacle of data and formalism if we don’t understand the type of information behind this beautiful representation?
Although
art does not always need explanation, Ikeda’s art has piqued a strong public
interest. For that, there is a need to bridge the knowledge gap. The data is
ubiquitous. So what data are we dealing with here? Where do they come from and
how to mine them?
The
practice of mining data itself is an interesting aspect to see further. It is a
craft people rarely see as a craft in the context of art. In Ikeda’s works, it
is apparent that the word ‘crafting’ has crossed into a new territory of
craftsmanship that involves machines and digital mechanisms. Artistic practices
are no longer only about moving our bodies to produce a piece of art but also involve multiple other abilities that open new possibilities for producing
art. Beyond the brush—keyboard—for instance, has become an essential tool in
contemporary artistic creation, signifying a shift in how we engage with
materiality and craftsmanship. This expanded notion of craft transcends
traditional physicality, intertwining human intuition with machine precision.
And so, art can also be about orchestrating machine and digital mechanisms.
However,
this evolution is not new or sudden. It has been part of the growing art
practices unfolding since the emergence of media art decades ago. The shift in
artistic mediums and the expanding scope of craftsmanship required to produce
art have continually redefined artistic labor as creativity has been
increasingly mediated through a more multifaceted mechanism. Ikeda’s use of
data in this exhibition is one of the many possible mechanisms that artists
explore in media art, demonstrating how artistic practice navigates the digital
as media and message.
And yet, one of the problems in our context in Indonesia regarding the process of modernization and technology is how we receive technological infrastructure without concurrently receiving its knowledge and mentality. Ronny Agustinus articulates this vividly in his essay “Video: Not All Correct…” written for OK. Video—Jakarta Video Art Festival 2003.[5] Furthermore, such phenomena have persisted since the colonial era and continue to repeat themselves. And so time and again, we inherit the outer shell of technology—its tools, infrastructure, and spectacle—without the foundational frameworks that enable deeper understanding, adaptation, and innovation.
Meanwhile,
much like other forms of representation and medium, data has its limit on what
to represent and express. If the limit of an image lies in its frame that is
visible to the eyes, the limit of data sometimes is invisible to the eyes.
There is inclusion in representation, but there is also omission at the same
time. Hence, to read data means to read a set of selections representing a
certain knowledge.
Aside
from that, the conversation about data mining and data literacy has become more
important today as this form of knowledge remains limited, if not inaccessible,
to most. Although the human presence has been increasingly being extracted into
data points through their log-in activities, the ability to mine and to
understand that extraction remains limited, perhaps especially in the context
of Indonesian society. And if we wish to move into the stage of seizing means
of production, seizing means of knowledge must begin, for instance, by building
bridges of understanding towards artworks like Ikeda’s.
In a
world where digital infrastructures govern much of our existence, understanding
data is no longer just a technical pursuit but a cultural imperative. Ikeda’s scan.tron.flux exhibition somehow
compels us to reconsider the nature of data—not merely as an abstract construct
but as a matter capable of performing and occupying space. It invites us to
engage with data beyond its utilitarian functions, treating it as material for exploration,
reflection, and even artistic expression. His work reveals how data can
manifest as an aesthetic experience, evoking contemplation rather than mere
consumption.
Yet,
it also exposes a fundamental tension: while data is increasingly omnipresent,
its mechanisms and meanings remain elusive to most. Our challenge is to move
beyond spectacle and critically interrogate the systems that produce and
control the information—shifting our passive observation into an active
understanding and perhaps reclaiming agency in the digital realm as well.***
Maret, 2025.
[2] https://www.ryojiikeda.com/project/datamatics/
[3] Manovich, Lev. Cultural Analytics. The MIT Press: Cambridge. 2020. P 131.
[4] Manovich, Lev. "Data," in Critical Terms in Futures Studies, ed. Paul Heike, Palgrave, 2019.
[5] Agustinus, Ronny. “Video: Not All Correct…” written for OK. Video—Jakarta Video Art Festival 2003.
