ARIAS

OPEN CALL

The haunting digital - Workshop I

7 March - location tbd

Living in a connected world also means grieving in a connected world.

Losing someone generates a materiality of absence, be that letters, photographs, and a person's belongings, and now of late, digital objects such as photos on one's phone and clouds, WhatsApp messages, voice messages, social media accounts, and emails. These objects (and data) evoke comfort and connection as well as a sense of haunting. Digital things exist between the material and immaterial, always present in mobile devices while vulnerable to deletion. Losing the last WhatsApp messages sent by loved ones because of an app update, losing a phone with precious photos and videos, visiting the social media accounts of people missing, and texting with the dead are all contemporary grief-related experiences.

In this workshop, Natalia Sánchez Querubín invites you to discuss the concept of the haunting digital, share theoretical or personal examples, and speculate (and perhaps design) rituals for caring, conserving, translating, and letting go of digital objects.

If you feel related to this topic and would like to attend, sign up via the link in bio.

It is with great excitement that the Contemporary Commoning research team announces the publication of their one-off magazine "About Art and Living Together on Zeeburgereiland."

It contains an overview of the various artistic research projects which have been taken place in Amsterdam's newest neighborhood over the last two years. The magazine includes reflections on Black Water, RAAAF's temporary intervention highlighting the hidden dark side of a bright new neighborhood, and on the Wielemaatjes, mobile objects developed by Socrates Schouten and Jeffrey Bolhuis in an attempt to add a disruptive element to its public spaces.

More information on the project can be found on contemporarycommoning.nl, where you can also find a free pdf of the magazine.

- Photo by Sander van Wettum

- Cover of Contemporary Commoning pdf

- Text by Ektor Ntourakos