Emotional Cities - Essay
John
Peter Nilsson
The
Canadian philosopher Marshall McLuhan published a book in 1964, the seminal
Understanding Media, in which he coined phrases such as “the global village”
and “the medium is the message”. But he also writes about the difference
between the industrial society and the information society. McLuhan proclaimed
that the industrial society can be understood as an extension of human muscular
power. The machine does what we had to do with our muscles before. And it does
it better and faster. The information society (or the media society as it was
called then) can be interpreted as an extension of man’s central nervous
system. The camera sees better than our eyes, the microphone hears better than
our ears, etc.
In
today’s information society, McLuhan’s observations have become our everyday
reality. Radio, TV, newspapers and the internet are not only carriers of
information and knowledge – they also register and sometimes enhance private
and collective emotional states. The media can be both deputy mourner and
cheerleader for us in the events of our lives.
Erik
Krikortz’ project Emotional Cities uses, reflects and reveals our fascination,
not to say our dependence, on the information society. In short, he has created
a website where you can log in and report how you are feeling according to a
scale. The project comprises all the cities of the world, and the responses are
compiled automatically. The average for Stockholm specifically is converted
into a colour that will illuminate the facades of all five high-rise buildings
at Hötorget in central Stockholm, as well as being shown on the website
emotionalcities.com and on a plasma screen at Moderna Museet. Krikortz simply
takes the emotional pulse of Stockholm. Or, as he himself puts it: “The result
is a psychological diagnosis of society.”
Naturally,
the interactivity of the project is essential. Krikortz was one of three
initiators of the light installation Colour by Numbers in 2006. Using a mobile
phone, anyone could dial a number and control the coloured lighting of the ten
top stories of the former LM Ericsson telecom tower at Telefonplan in
Stockholm. The primary object was that the democratic nature of the project
(anyone could influence it) would provoke a general discussion about the urban
space. How can the individual citizen influence the urban landscape? Is it
possible, without breaking the law, to influence the public space, which is
largely dominated by commercial and political forces?
Emotional
Cities poses a fairly commonplace question: How are you? But it is a question
that seeks to make us reflect carefully. Someone cares. But it is not another
person who is asking. By allowing the public domain, both the Hötorget
buildings and the internet, to ask the question and display the answer, Krikortz
adds complexity to the implication of caring. I can’t help reflecting on the
interactive services available on the internet. Without encountering a single
human being face to face, I can ask questions, for instance, about my health,
and receive an answer, signed by a name but nevertheless anonymous.
Yet, I
don’t perceive that Krikortz is levelling any unequivocal critique against the
depersonalised media technology. He uses technology as a means of
communication. There is, however, a critique against the use of the public
domain. As he himself puts it, “Advertising dominates the public space, points
at our shortcomings and tells us what we need in order to feel good. Our
economy is an ‘economy of deficiency’, based entirely on dissatisfaction.
Through this light installation, the city’s denizens can demonstrate
collectively how they feel, using Stockholm’s largest projection surface.”
The
project is a straight-forward, honest appeal to us to reflect and care about
one another. Even if Krikortz uses new technology, he pursues an established
tradition in art to distinguish the shortcomings and merits of the city. Many
have portrayed the collective desires of urban life, along with the tragedy of
literally living so close without getting nearer one another. As in Colour by
Numbers, how-ever, he adds the potential of new technology for interaction. The
city appears like an organism, a perpetually transmogrifying organism. But the
work of art that emerges as an equally transmogrifying, organic body is just as
remarkable. Emotional Cities exists solely in how the project is received and
used. “The city speaks to us through ourselves”, he points out.
A
dominant human trait is our longing for acknowledgement, not merely in our
quest for happiness. I will perhaps feel a little less bad if other people feel
bad too. There is an ironic point in allowing the computers to structure and
communicate human feelings. The attendant question – why are we happy or sad? –
is never asked in Krikortz’ internet investigation. Perhaps the result is that
we are prompted to actually start talking to one another? Not in polite phrases
without meaning or compassion. But for real.
Translation:
Gabriella Berggren
The essay was published in a poster-brochure
for the exhibition ”Emotional Cities” at Moderna Museet.