Article on my Glitch movies
story © Michael Betancourt, July 16, 2016 all rights reserved.
José Manuel García Perera, painting professor at Universidad de Sevilla, wrote an interesting article on my glitch work that was published earlier this year.
Abstract: In recent times, artistic creation has come closer to the media image proposed by Internet, thus seriously altering an aesthetic experience based before on movement of the viewer around the work and now defined by screens that induce passivity. Michael Betancourt’s video work, part of the so-called glitch art, which focuses on the failure that can occur within the digital realm, has been here the basis for a comparative study between different concepts of movement in art, as well as between a current and a past art, a comparison that allows us to see clearly how technological advances have produced radical changes in the physical, spatial and mobile nature of the artwork. Betancourt’s investigation proposes a new kinetic art that becomes critical through error, mimics the real-time movement that contemporary culture demands, and uncovers the artificiality of images that mimic reality as if they wanted to replace it.
The full article is available as a pdf online: "El movimiento como simulacro en el mundo virtual: Michael Betancourt y el arte de la inmediatez" published in Espacio, Tiempo y Forma, Serie VII - Historia del Arte no. 4, 2016, pp. 143-158.
Here is a very rough translation, provided for informational purposes only:
In Expect the Unexpected, Paul Virilio warns us that television “has disrupted ultimately all forms of artistic representation, thanks to the sudden presentation in which real time definitely overcomes the real space of the masterpieces.” This statement, which may well be extended to the new audiovisual media, brings out the contemporary obsession with immediacy. The words “representation” and “presentation” do not appear in that order by chance: indeed, in our time and in our space, immersed in the global network of infinite connections, we assist at all times not an outdated representation but the presentation the events before our eyes, this is a movement in real time showing us everything that happens, whether near or far, at the same time to happen.
Given this fascination can do little bygone image if not adapted to their changing context and new patterns of behavior of the public who receives your message. The time of artistic creation has traditionally been opposed to real time, has represented the immutable, timeless, hence the necessary change should largely settle issues regarding mobility, understood both in its formal dimension—the movement that the author intended to express through training and, especially, those concerning their relationship with the viewer—the movement that leads to the encounter between the two members of the aesthetics experience. Both reflect the dimensions of each other, so the first should be understood within the art that does not offer real growth movement, as more than a mere compositional artifice that makes mobile immobility; this formal condition conclusions can be drawn about how we perceive our visual environment and modify in response to complex mental mechanisms.
This article reflects on the role of the movement in this convergence between the still image and fleeting images of the mass media, which disingenuously bring us both life itself show that almost they seem to supplant it. I think in these terms leads inescapably to the young American artist and esthete Michael Betancourt (1974), whose work applies to us, both as theoretical and creative side, as support for this study. Specifically, his essay “Motion Perception in Movies and painting: Towards a New Kinetic Art,” published in 2002, has provided the basis on which we have discussed his work as a video artist, always in relation to the kinetic art of the author it aims to provide some clues. Betancourt’s work, still poorly known in Castilian, perfectly exemplifies the ideas outlined around the relationship between art and technology and also through its approach to the glitch trend that has made digital error aesthetics, the potential event recorded live, of the fleeting and transitory.
The research proposes a comparative and interpretive analysis that moves between past and present with idea illustrate how new means at our disposal configured not only visions and unpublished readings in recent artistic discourse, but also new patterns of human behavior society. The study thus presents two closely related sections: the first deals with through connections between painting and film, the problem of human perception of illusory motion assimilation, and made according to information theory and visual research Betancourt; the second poses a critical reflection on the work of this artist as part of a trend that promotes a new model of access to the artwork. It is therefore a route that covers the formal dimension of the movement as a constitutive element of the work of art, but inevitably reveals changes in the dynamic relationship between the viewer and the work must be produced so that it can reassert in meaning.
The history of painting is a discipline which for centuries has insisted on being what is not pretending to do what is three-dimensional or two-dimensional trying to print dynamism to what is static. The interest that criticism has been demonstrated in features such as space or pictorial movement mainly lies principally in what is in them sleight: what is a deficiency which promotes the analysis of the solutions that have attempted to meet it. In his essay “Motion Perception in Movies and painting: Towards a New Kinetic Art” Michael Betancourt analyzes some of the strategies followed masters like Rubens or Bacon to integrate the sense of movement in his compositions. Based on cognitive theories and Gestalt psychology, psychologist go Betancourt takes the Helmholtz what he termed as “the principle of similarity,” through which we perceive as real movement that is nothing more than the illusion of movement.
The clearest example of this principle can be found in art is cinema, whose artifice is so effective that it seems difficult to assume that the movement shows us is an imitation, a perfect deception that makes us forget that what we see is but a succession of still images that our mind transforms into a unified view. Max Wertheimer explained in 1912: “When multiple stationary light signals follow one another forming a sequence, a unit displacement of a single lamp be seen in space.”
On this basis, Betancourt argued that film movement is essnetially no different than painted movement, and that both are opposed to the movement that we see in the things around us: “Unlike the movement in the real world (...), the movement of the films and the technique of painting movement is entirely the result of human perception. The movement we see there is no safe within our perception. The ‘principle of similarity’ is an explanation of how to interpret it. What we see is an internal comparison between the immediate sensory experience and prior knowledge.” Both movements are so closely related that we are certainly far in a first intuition: the painting is obviously false; the film seems real as life. In both media, however, the movement appears as a result of a mental process.
What the film achieved by accumulation and succession of multiple images painting succeeds in combining different phases of a single movement that aspires to represent, causing some inconsistencies ranging from subtle to obvious. Betancourt explains two very different separate examples: Helene Fourment with fur coat (1638), by Rubens, and Three studies of Lucien Freud (1969), by Bacon. In the baroque painting can barely glimpsed a movement of the woman’s body. Partially covered with a coat, the pubis is hidden, which hides the distortion critic John Berger described in Ways of Seeing: the legs and torso do not meet in an anatomically coherent manner, for the lower body shows a different shift than at the top, as if Rubens had merged into a single view two moments of a women whirling. This mismatch, almost imperceptible, illustrates how the painter must play, not with a motion picture, but with that other motion that occurs in the eye of the beholder, whose pan across the image “fits different positions of the body together to form a coherent whole.” Having only a spectator in power that the painter may include aesthetic experience in time and change, both essential for achieving the movement and the picture alone can not provide factors. In the binomial work—spectator time is what it takes to go on with their eyes, and change is created by this formal distortion: the change occurs between when the viewer stops on the legs and moves on to the torso, creating her movement.
Turning to the work of Bacon, proposed by Betancourt in a second example, all subtlety disappears. He can no longer speak of a minimum of distortion but the transformation of the model, Lucien Freud in this case, into a true monster. If we interpret the impossible curves, soft deformations and threaded fragmented centers as effects caused by the movement is only because the painting has become accustomed to such conventions in representation. Otherwise, what it is presented before our eyes would be cruelly attacked being. And it is that Bacon meets in the three panels that make up a whole showcase the work not only of the changing positions of his restless friend during the time of pose, but also from several viewpoints that show shifts in the position of the painter. As if this were not enough, the conception of the work as a triptych involves the sum of moments in a long narrative that takes features of film or photographic sequence. The painter melted in a box several spatial and temporal realities, and then repeat this operation twice, so that is a sequence of three images are also sequences themselves.
But what can you tell this analysis Betancourt on movement in relation to his own work? Leave the field of painting and focus on the videocreation it involves reflecting on this cinema movement that, compared with the pictorial, would be tempted to qualify as real, despite being, as we have seen, equally contrived. Look at the work The Kodak Moment (2013) by Betancourt. This is a video of two minutes in which we see a woman—the silent film actress Mae Murray moving to how you could do the Helene Fourment Rubens, turning to the audience and languidly sensual. As befits cinema—the sense of movement is achieved by the succession of static frames, but it happens that the traits that allow us to frame the work within the trend of glitch art is same the approach to nature of pictorial movement.
To better understand this phenomenon it is necessary to place in context. What has been termed art glitch is set to transient faults do not affect decisively to the operation of the system in which they originate, but momentarily interrupts the flow of information. It was a matter of time that art sublimating focus your gaze on accidents caused by the flood of pixels that make up part of our imaginary current. The term glitch art came in mid 90’s through music. Artists and theorists like Iman Moradi or Rosa Menkman contributed to the gap between the visual arts, defining an aesthetic of our machined error extended into the environment: the cloud of pixels that suddenly fills the TV screen, saturated color fringe preventing a full reading of a digital image, like swept fluctuating water reflection in a monitor connected wrong ... These accidents offer new ways to destabilize the representation, break it, to deny its integrity, hence they have gone from being frustrating failures for users of electronic devices to desired effects and sought after by artists who manipulate different means to produce premeditation. This event is one of the most recent attacks that against the clear, steady and sharp image have been perpetrating since the first artistic vanguards early twentieth century, when it is clear that the kink and bankruptcy are born new and powerful statements.
Within this world disproved The Kodak Moment acquires its full meaning. Betancourt appropriates a recording from 1922 and digitally adulterated to damage the image, so that, during the viewing, we find ourselves before a defective and malfunctioning recording: the black background enters the figure continuously, sprinkling with uncontrolled pixels which call the solidity of the flesh into question; profiles fluctuate makeing it impossible to recognize shapes; her face in the foreground, suddenly opens and reveals the body in the distance as a persistent and erratic trail of an earlier plane. All this happens in a constant and fleeting flicker even more evident sham nature of the sequence to which we attended, which departs from the so-perfect illusion proposed by the conventional cinema. These misalignments are called datamoshing, which, through the compressed handling of digital information, appears to reveal the interior of pixelated and continuous movement of falsely sharp and lasting images. What The Kodak Moment shows us, therefore, is not a woman, it’s just our interpretation of a number of satellite signals, our translation of a language whose code is easily alterable and a set of intangible electronic data according patterns we fail to decipher.
Betancourt’s approach to glitch comes as a logical consequence of an investigation concerned primarily about the relationship between humans and the virtual environment and the machines putting it in place, and how it modifies almost all facets of our life, including the creation and reception of images. His analysis of movement is understood in this context as an inquiry into the mechanisms of the human mind in adapting to a new life guided more by simulated acts than by true events. It is there, in this real-time presentation that Virilio recognized movement and illusion are clues to understanding how we assimilate the unprecedented reality that takes shape before our eyes. Technology, as Susan Ballard reminds us, “can not exist without movement, without movement no information. The motion introduced by imperceptible noise it is. As soon as something picks up traces of dust and dirt, glitches, mistakes, and errors moves. No (...) noise there is nothing to hear. The exact transmission is impossible.” In the digital realm glitch is therefore inevitable, and its nature can not escape movement: its definition implies the assumption of the ephemeral as a concept. Glitch art become involved, on the one hand, in the sublimation of the transient, its perpetuation, and secondly, contrarily, in the demystification of art directed towards glimpses that have nothing to do with the desire for perpetuity traditionally associated with it. Now artistic creation blends with an experienced real-time movement. The glitch makes sense only when an observer experiencing it live, which sees it as a failure and quickly forget it exists. As accident is acting for few seconds and then disappears; It is an unexpected surprise, a unique and unrepeatable.
Well, let us return after these clarifications about the glitch art, the subject of hybridization indicated in the movement that we see in The Kodak Moment. The final conclusions Betancourt states in his essay point to a possible mutual enrichment of pictorial and cinematic languages, thanks precisely to the defended coincidence that occurs in the perceptual basis of the strategies of both means they use to express what mobile: “the union of visual movement in the cinema with the pictorial movement creates a historical basis for a visual kinetic art specifically derived from the problems of painting but using technology movies.” The Kodak Moment presents this mixed nature pretends move using the same deception used any other movie, but here that besides the succession of own stop motion film, can be seen in it the union in one frame separated in time two or more times, which is, as we saw, attributable to the pictorial movement key feature. In other words, if the film manages to simulate movement through the accumulation of photographically static frames can then be seen as an isolated unit of movement and stasis—The Kodak Moment, even taking advantage of such artifice, does not renounce its images, like paintings in which in view of motion refers. If we stop video playback, we repeatedly end up bumping into a frame that recalls Bacon’s painting and its multiplicity of positions and views.
This intrusion of painting into film, via the presence of the glitch is, as already noted, directly responsible. How is the error involved in this contamination? The conventional cinema does not merge different phases of a movement in the same frame; each phase projected disappears immediately afterwards, and forming part of a past that memory viewer must recreate to link it with the present and thus perceive the movement. The glitch fluently and abruptly breaks this continuity with inserts and interference via intrusive fragments of images that seem out of place or come from other times, before or after, belonging to the same story. It is what happens in The Kodak Moment and what unites Betancourt’s work with Bacon’s painting: the coexistence in the same image of several units of movement that in reality could not coexist. Through failure, either accidental or induced, the trick is exposed; we continue to see movement but we understand because it is only real in our mind.
It is not unreasonable to say, therefore, that the development trend has been fueled glitch in part by a need for questioning of images before we lose all critical persepctive. Artists like Betancourt, Takeshi Murata, or Rosa Menkman work in the digital realm, while others like Andy Denzler, Li Songsong, Alejandro Bombín or Kon Trubkovich approach the glitch through the pictorial material, thus adding examples of that desirable transfer of aesthetic codes between different media Betancourt identifies as possible source of findings for the emergence of a hitherto unknown kinetic art. The pictorial film is The Kodak Moment brings to the fore issues relevant to the generations that have grown up in the era of simulation in real time. His movement is the media image that Internet distributed simultaneously across the globe, and strategies to achieve it beyond a formal reality closed, openly responding to new models of access to the generators art turn of new systems organize the movement of the work and the viewer in relation to it.
A NEW REALITY, A NEW SPECTATOR
The internet world offers us configured, almost without us realize this, a new way to access information that often keeps us from physical and direct experimentation. The problems raised by Walter Benjamin about the reproducibility of the work of art reaches today, as can be easily guessed, the paroxysm: the aura of the great works of classical art, as prophesying the author, has disappeared or, rather, It qualifies as José Luis Brea, has noted. The “here and now of the work of art” has given way to where and when we see it. It is not so much single object located in one place as you first source of a subsequent mass multiplication—“ubiquity widespread”—on screens around the world ; not finished waiting to be contemplated but live presentation to viewers who devote their observation few seconds before moving on to a new image representation.
The Internet visually displays a boundless world. In it lives the most amazing level of detail and the highest resolution, although a trend towards the impoverishment of the quality of picture and sound is evident. Music and compressed images lose allegedly unnecessary information provided made more easily transportable by air connections globales. So, when we access on our screens reproduction of a work of art physics we do actually a version of hundreds we are given simultaneously. Any of these images, accurate enough, always differs from the original in key areas such as the color gamut, light intensity, size and of course, his own corporeality, because it replaces the matter that makes up the painting or sculpture by intangible light signal. But in exchange for this distortion he promises immediacy, and this ensures a significant advantage over any museum relic. These creations are now moving in electronic form to the homes of new viewers signals, reversing the predominant model until recently. Today, more than ever, think again Benjamin when he said that reproduction can “put the copy in situations that are beyond the reach of which is the original itself. First of all, let it out to meet the perceiver himself.”
This is true to such an extent that the copy has supplanted in some respects the original: it is she who, most times, we makes it known, questioning its role first and all the centennial belief system that around it it is mounted, leaving no other function than to “assert as a kind of ‘guarantee fund’ that would support the validity of our experience,” which is nothing but virtual experience that precedes the physical. Given the original the new viewer hopes to confirm everything previously through the network has seen, read and heard. It is because of this media blitz that is there, against the physical and real object, wanting to prove not really know why, perhaps longing feel something of that aura that gives it its status as idol. “If you no longer retain the receiver as depository of the value that in its judgment of taste, he acknowledges, will go to him as a witness circulating in the media, as a fetish residence of the media contest public opinion.” And perhaps, as Brea suggested, an aura still exists, but no longer, of course, as persistent vestige of ritual value traditionally associated with the work, but a new born precisely the system to which Benjamin identified as responsible for its disappearance: “the rate of flow of information on any object printed over it a auratic effect.” So, is this a new halo imposed on our gaze power strategies that dictate what things deserve our attention. Serving his rise mechanisms are activated frenetic movement worldwide that gives elected with the gift of ubiquity.
A piece like The Kodak Moment presents us with, however, a very different dilemma: art born in the computer field or the network has it as its natural habitat; experimentation belongs to that stage, and can not speak, therefore, of the displacement of an original that does not really exist. Betancourt’s work is projected at festivals and prestigious galleries, but can also be seen on the Internet, and it happens that none of these means, or what is the same in any of them, we attended the original creation. Thus it can be said, following the comparative analysis begun in the previous chapter, the paint is mimicked through its digital playback The actual virtual work, and that it receives the immaterial nature that gives a movement allowance almost absolute, increased in seconds anywhere in the world by far whatever. This substantial change, together with recent patterns of behavior that have developed with respect to the aesthetic experience, has created one of the most radical changes in the relationship between the viewer and the artwork. The rapid and steady traffic flow in the global image is offered today to a frequently still public, which assists stunned the creation of centuries and entire continents in a few hours time and in a space of few square meters.
In losing its status as physical object the artwork stop sharing our space, and this greatly disrupts an ever conditioned by the spatial movement of the viewer around that aesthetic experience. The screen prints levity, cancels the weight of corporeal presence and leads to a superficial and disinterested observation. David Barro today warns that “art has lost its contemplative capacity for the media, fast food, and that has affected much, to painting. Each time the minute attention span of people.” Faced with the slow and leisurely tasting desirable prevails today a sort of zapping, forced by unthinking consumption data overload with the Red overwhelms us that is less it enlightens us. Thus, “the new way of consuming images acutely affects our way of reading them and then digest them. So that decreased concentration due to a previous loss of the provision of contemplation.” An idea like this does nothing but update the Benjaminian contrast between a reception based on the “recollection” and that other he calls “distracted reception” which arises as a direct consequence of an accelerated movement that disrupts spectator’s immersion. In Benjamin’s period this movement embodied the cinema and its constant succession of stunning images. Today, ironically, the cinematic experience, sense first and almost romantic with its here and now, with his dark, with light, with its coexistence seems almost stopped a span of time if you stick to the current appreciation of an alienated humanity that attends life as fast media spectacle rather than get involved in it as acting force. Experimentation of the artwork, as has happened with our first conception of space and social relations, has been dematerialized, thus following the logical course of reality in which it is immersed. Benjamin understands it very well when he writes that the distracted mass “immerses (...) the work of art within itself, wraps it in its waves, the covers entirely on its tide” is the price to be paid by the as desired immediacy of “real time definitely overcomes the real space of the masterpieces,” as Paul Virilio said. Without space there is no real movement can only live presentation.
Indeed, the interpretation of the work of art arises from an interaction between space of its own and the other belonging to the viewer. The route he usually carried in his analysis, circular sculpture and straight for painting, provides, in a continuous swing, a distant vision and another nearby, and both possible, when combined, total assimilation of the work, from his basic structure to the treatment that the artist decides to apply to your matter. Before a digital re-production both spaces no longer make sense: the movement of the cursor on the screen replaces the walk; look for that detailed vision that delights in the stroke equivalent to increasing the size of the image and discover the ever revealing the drill pixel; close or minimize the window is like leaving the box and through the space that separates it from the next. No way to transit without pilgrimage to the real object—either because it does not exist or because it conforms with copy—the viewer awaits magic trick by which, in fractions of milliseconds, absolute nothingness gives way to the finished work.
This purity cools the relationship between the viewer and the work: confined to different spaces, the observer does not have access to it—or has it only through intermediaries, because it now belongs to an environment in which your physical body has no place. Faced with our mobility severely reduced, the image that appears then encourages a live presentation, and this entails a profound change we have made with a certain lightness, even when it significantly modifies the reading and understanding of the work and its process: in front of the screen we are witness in some way to the creation of an image to be completed in a vertical scan, which passes from the pixelated to clear during the charging time. The digital image becomes a pop-up event to the physics we usually deny in paint. We can speak, therefore, of waiting, of a time and motion present, and none is alien to our interest, transitory or erratic.
At some point, the error emerging in the image, or during playback of a movie or a musical piece, went from being a nuisance that had to be mentally removed to achieve a full understanding, to a more constitutive element, giving rise not to a failed image but to an unusual loaded image with a powerful new potential. This has been seen in much of the criticism that has come close to this phenomenon: “In the ‘miscommunication,’ the error indicates an escape from the predictable confines of the computer control: an opening, a virtuality a poiesis.” The glitch provides new creative paths through a questioning of the very concept of error, which its refusal to disappear despite a society increasingly determined to eradicate it. It can release unexpected meanings—to the public and for certain telltale creators—own unconscious desires as The Kodak Moment demonstrated. The presence of glitch reaffirms that real-time observation can not be separated from a very different movement from that which has characterized the meeting between the artwork and its audience for centuries. For a lethargic viewer that “only expect the unexpected” error, failure, accident, constitute the last possible surprise in the intended perfection digital. Hence comes its undeniable fascination.
Reflections raised here around two dimensions of movement in art, formal and intrinsic to the work and another that is projected from outside it in its relationship with the viewer, has led us to review the implications of glitch art in general and the work of Michael Betancourt in particular. Considering his work The Kodak Moment in the light of an approach that tends to the union of different artistic media and not their segregation, as an example of a new kinetic art that transcends the limits imposed by the pictorial and cinematic languages at his command. This development of hybrids is only one example of many other potentials that, according Betancourt, could constitute important discoveries in the emergence of future artistic discourse.
Art that sublimates digital accidents formally assumes features from the world of video games and amateur recordings uploaded to the Web, but it is in their relationship with the viewer that reveals their most powerful evocation of recent reality: its movement is related with which contemporary culture demands, the present continuous all-encompassing directly and quickly, even if it has to sacrifice things corporeal entity. Indeed, the very dematerialization of digital ejected into space from the equation of aesthetic experience, which implies the presence of a stationary front viewer appearances that simulate move without actually doing it.
In the conjunction between a formal motion and another space is the critical potential glitch. His clear aesthetic affectation of failure should not obscure its ability to uncover the artifice of reality simulations that has plunged us into an accommodation of the inauthentic. Here the mass reproduction of the work of art favors the widespread physical lethargy continuing the drill. Glitch art, despite sharing the same recognitions of movement the viewer has with other media, questions via accidents its own condition, thus highlighting its artificial nature and contributing, albeit in small measure, to the awakening of an alienated public. In the words of Iman Moradi, the error is necessary because it “humanizes the machine aligning it with our own capacity to err. The machine somehow becomes less threatening when it is vulnerable.” Revealing the malfunction shows the control that technology has over its users.
On the other hand, finally, we can not overlook one last question of the aura and cooling: this can be reversed, as it also moves; her coldness does not have to be permanent. Our appreciation of the work of art is continually making changes, moves, is unstable, fluctuates as market values, stop all provisional. Theirs is not vain then recalling give-and unburden and a certain pessimism-technological, which indicate the rectum and uncritical consumption has not eradicated the physical transit worldwide audience looking for the artwork. Among true desires of contemplative immersion and consumerist fetishism, even in our present become evident advantages associated with direct contemplation, all implicit in a movement of the viewer into the work that has always been vital in understanding and today, despite dig increasingly effective imitations, it refuses to disappear.
1. Universidad de Sevilla (firstname.lastname@example.org).
2. Virilio, Paul (2005): “Expect the unexpected” in Seduced by accident. La Coruña, Luis Seoane Foundation, 23.
3. Betancourt, Michael (2002): “Motion Perception in Movies and painting: Towards a New Kinetic Art.” At: http://www.ctheory.net/articles.aspx?id=349 [18 April 2015].
4. Citado en Arnheim, Rudolph (1992): Essays to the Rescue of Art. Madrid, Cátedra, 202.
5. Betancourt, Michael: Op. Cit.
6. Berger, John (1975): Ways of Seeing. Barcelona, Gustavo Gili.
7. Betancourt, Michael. Op. Cit.
8. Menkman, Rosa (2011): The Glitch Moment(um). Amsterdam, Network Notebooks.
9. Ajo, Peter (2014): “The aesthetics of error in the digital age.” At: http://es.scribd.com/doc/196913083/La-es-Tetica-of-bug-in-the-old-digital # scribd [18 April 2015].
10. Ballard, Susan: "Information, Noise, et al.," In Nunes, Marked). Error: Glitch, Noise and Jam in New Media Cultures. New York / London, Continuum, 2010, 60.
11. Betancourt, Michael: Op. Cit.
12. Betancourt, Michael (2011): “Critical Glitch Glitches and Art.” At: http://www.hz-journal.org/n19/betan- court.html [22 April 2015].
13. Benjamin, Walter (2008): “The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction,” in Collected Works, Book II, Volume 2. Madrid, Abada publishers.
14. Brea, José Luis (1991): Cold Auras. Barcelona, Anagram.
15. Benjamin, Walter: Op. Cit. 13.
16. Brea, José Luis: Op. Cit. 12.
17. Menkman, Rosa: Op. Cit.
18. Benjamin, Walter: Op. Cit. 13.
19. Brea, José Luis: Op. Cit. 33.
20. Idem. 36.
21. Idem. 109.
22. Barro, David (2009): The day before yesterday and the day after tomorrow or what can be painting today. La Coruna, Museum of Contemporary Art Union Fenosa, 18.
23. 24. 25. Idem. 19. Benjamin, Walter: Op. Cit. 44. Idem. 43.
26. Nunes, Mark (2010): “Introduction,” in Nunes, Mark. Error: Glitch, Noise and Jam in New Media Cultures. New York / London, Continuum, 3.
27. Virilio, Paul: Op. Cit. 29.
28. Moradi, Iman (2011): “Perfect Imperfection Seeking: A retrospective staff on Glitch Art.” At: http: // virose.pt/vector/x_06/moradi.html [22 April 2015].
29. Brea, José Luis: Op. Cit.
Copyright © Michael Betancourt July 16, 2016 all rights reserved.
All images, copyrights, and trademarks are owned by their respective owners: any presence here is for purposes of commentary only.