Kelly Dobson's Blendie

An interactive object shown in video form.

From Dobson's statement about Blendie:

Blendie is an interactive, sensitive, intelligent, voice controlled blender with a mind of its own. Materials are a 1950's Osterizer blender altered with custom made hardware and software for sound analysis and motor control.

People induce the blender to spin by sounding the sounds of its motor in action. A person may growl low pitch blender-like sounds to get it to spin slow (Blendie pitch and power matches the person) and the person can growl blender-style at higher pitches to speed up Blendie. The experience for the participant is to speak the language of the machine and thus to more deeply understand and connect with the machine. The action may also bring about personal revelations in the participant. The participant empathizes with Blendie and in this new approach to a domestic appliance, a conscious and personally meaningful relationship is facilitated.

Recently I've been thinking a lot about viewer interaction and to what degree I want my viewers to interact with my objects. In this piece, Kelly Dobson is able to entice the viewer into imagining them self in the interaction.

Art and Interaction

Since my crit on Wednesday, and after the gallery talk this morning with Jane Lackey, I have been thinking a lot about how a viewer engages with work of art. In the new series of work I have started the objects are designed with the intention of highlighting the didactic experience, focusing on what can be learned through interaction. I have always been interested in how a viewer's willingness to physically engage with a work shifts depending on the location of an object. When a viewer enters a gallery space, it seems as though an invisible wall is subconsciously built in front of a work thereby limiting their potential exchange. On a trip to San Francisco a few years back, I visited the de Young museum and saw a piece by Breton. Physical interaction with the piece was very strongly implied, on it was a big red button with the words "Push Me," yet not one visitor pushed the button. In contrast, in San Diego's Balboa park, sculptures by Niki de Saint Phalle seemed to invite physical involvement. While I am not interested in placing my work in the same outdoor, public environment, I am interested in why this difference in allowing one's self to interact happens.

In a discussion with Rosemary Dardick earlier this week, she talked about how these subconscious physical barriers that occur in the gallery space must be rooted in the traditions of art display. It can be impossible to communicate that an object should be touched because these rules are so strongly anchored to the space. In her gallery talk today, Jane Lackey spoke about a map-like piece in her show at the Lemberg Gallery that is made with the intent of being opened, but that is rendered untouchable because of its fragility. As a result, the function of the piece is denied to the viewer and therefore becomes a space for the viewer to ponder what the experience would be like. In Celia Butler's new work, a stack of unassembled boxes creates the same space for the viewer to think about the experience. This lead me to consider the importance of physical engagement with art. Can the same message be delivered without the interaction? Should the viewer interact? Does it give to much away to let them manipulate the object? and conversely, If the interaction is necessary, how do you break down those barriers?