Healing tool by Brian Kane

BRIAN KANE, HEALING TOOL, BOSTON, 95 NORTHBOUND, JULY 8, 2015

BRIAN KANE, HEALING TOOL, BOSTON, 95 NORTHBOUND, JULY 8, 201502

Healing Tool is art designed for people in cars. A temporary public art installation using digital billboards on interstate freeways.

The goal is to provide a moment of temporary relief and unexpected beauty during the daily grind of commuting.

The piece builds on a body of work which simulates digital experiences in the real world. In this case, simulating the Photoshop Healing Tool to replace or patch over the landscape which is blocked by the billboard.

During the day hours, a series of images from the specific location are shown on the display. We replace the missing background and create a magic dimensional window. A dynamic motion parallax effect occurs as the vehicle passes the location.

During the evening hours, high-resolution images of the moon are shown. Synced to the daily phase, people can view the moon despite the effects of urban light pollution. An image of the Milky Way is shown on new moon night.

The dynamic image sequences provide an additional level of intrigue for frequent drivers and commuters. As the images change hourly and daily, viewers have something to look forward to: a curious and abstract narrative over time.

Thematically, the piece is ambiguously green. It appears to be replacing the artificial with the natural, but it’s really just using technology to simulate a nature replacement. It’s also a form of “unvertising” – a campaign without a message. By removing the marketing message from the advertising space, we create an unexpected moment of introspection. People are allowed to interpret an image based on their own experience, and not necessarily with the singular focus of the advertiser’s intent.

Written by Brian Kane. Find out more at briankane.net

Arabian Street Artists hacking Homeland “Homeland is racist”

Homeland-is-racist

At the beginning of June 2015, we received a phone call from a friend who has been active in the Graffiti and Street art scene in Germany for the past 30 years and has researched graffiti in the Middle East extensively. He had been contacted by “Homeland’s” set production company who were looking for “Arabian street artists” to lend graffiti authenticity to a film set of a Syrian refugee camp on the Lebanese/Syrian border for their new season. Given the series’ reputation we were not easily convinced, until we considered what a moment of intervention could relay about our own and many others’ political discontent with the series. It was our moment to make our point by subverting the message using the show itself.

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The Arabian Street Artists //
Heba Amin
Caram Kapp
Stone

#blacklivesmatter
#blacklivesmatter
al watan bateekh (Homeland is watermelon: Watermelon is a word often used to indicate that something is a sham or not to be taken seriously).
al watan bateekh (Homeland is watermelon: Watermelon is a word often used to indicate that something is a sham or not to be taken seriously).
al watan mesh mosalsal (Homeland is NOT a series)
al watan mesh mosalsal (Homeland is NOT a series)

GhalamDAR قلمدار

ghalamdar01 ghalamdar02 ghalamdar03

ghalamDAR (which means “the writer” in Farsi) Is an emerging artist working primarily as a graffiti artist. He experiences and creates by using calligraphy, Miniature painting (Negar-gari) and folk objects as parts of his subject inspirations. Traditions and such art movements like saqqakhana hs directly inspired ghalamDAR to challenge the dominant pictorial material of Iranian street art aiming for developing an aesthetic with particular Iranian markers. His works share an affinity with the interlocking aesthetic of “wild style” graffiti and traditional calligraphy which demonstrate an amalgamation of these two cultures. While other artists look at the western hip hop as the source of graffiti, ghalamDAR thinks of the relations between his works and the graffiti of Iranian revolution of 1979 and past artistic streams as his roots.

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The Mystery of the Creepiest Television Hack

by CHRIS KNITTEL

Right up until 9:14 PM on November 22nd, 1987, what appeared on Chicago’s television sets was somewhat normal: entertainment, news, game shows.

That night, as usual, Dan Roan, a popular local sportscaster on Channel 9’s Nine O’Clock News, was narrating highlights of the Bears’ victory over the Detroit Lions. And then, suddenly and without warning, the signal flickered up and out into darkness.

In the control room of WGN-TV, the technicians on duty stared blankly at their screens. It was from their studio, located at Bradley Place in the north of the city, that the network broadcasted its microwave transmission to an antenna at the top of the 100-story John Hancock tower, seven miles away, and then out to tens of thousands of viewers. Time seemed to slow to a trickle as they watched that signal get hijacked.

A squat, suited figure sputtered into being, and bounced around maniacally. Wearing a ghoulish rubbery mask with sunglasses and a frozen grin, the mysterious intruder looked like a cross between Richard Nixon and the Joker. Static hissed through the signal; behind him, a slab of corrugated metal spun hypnotically. This was not part of the regularly scheduled broadcast.

Finally someone switched the uplink frequencies, and the studio zapped back to the screen. There was Roan, at his desk in the studio, smiling at the camera, dumbfounded.

“Well, if you’re wondering what’s happened,” he said, chuckling nervously, “so am I.”

Within hours, federal officials would be called in to investigate one of the strangest crimes in TV history—a rare broadcast signal intrusion, with no clear motive, method, or culprits. It may as well have come from another dimension.

To many clued-in TV viewers that night, the face of Max Headroom would have been unmistakable. “The world’s first computer-generated TV host,” as he might have proudly boasted, was a sharp-tongued character inaugurated in 1985 as the veejay for a British music television show. His sarcastic wit and stuttering delivery—along with an ad campaign for New Coke, a late-night talk show on Cinemax, and a few TV specials—had made him a cult personality even before he finally earned his own hour-long TV show in the US.

Max Headroom, which featured the exploits of a TV journalist living in a dystopian future, with a digital alter ego in the form of the title character, debuted on March 31, 1987. In Chicago, it aired on the ABC affiliate Channel 7, and would last for 11 episodes and into a brief second season that fall, before it was canceled, beaten in the ratings by Miami Vice.

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Taken from motherboard.vice.com