Beruflich Dokumente
Kultur Dokumente
Tim Stott
First published 2015
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The right of Tim Stott to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in
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Typeset in Sabon
by codeMantra
To my mother and father
Contents
List of Illustrations ix
Preface xi
Introduction 1
Conclusion 133
Research for this book began, no doubt as books often do, with a mixture
of fascination and disappointment. My growing fascination with play as a
highly complex social activity, which could be seen to entertain close and
intricate relations with artistic production, was disappointed to encounter
some of the critical claims that were made for the increasing number of par-
ticipatory works of art that used play and games in some way. This pre-
sented an opportunity to contribute to an understanding of the so-called
“ludification” of culture and the more widespread gamification of everyday
life that had been identified by scholars and practitioners outside of the
domain of contemporary art. If, and it is a large “if,” the twenty-first century
is or should be the century of play, as some have asserted, then the opportu-
nities for play in contemporary art had to be examined and evaluated in a
sophisticated manner. Such an analysis, it seemed to me, was ill-served by the
straightforward advocacy of play as a gain in freedom or agency for players.
It was argued that the facilitation of participation through play was a gener-
ous and egalitarian move on the part of artists and arts institutions alike. One
suspected, however, that the transformation into play of the engagement with
art, in conjunction with any number of other previously unplayful or rarely
playful social activities, was simply a change to a different organisational
mode. In the face both of a demand for some degree of extended participa-
tion in public institutions and of artistic practices that continued to open up
the social field to inquiry, this mode appeared to be highly productive.
It struck me that the openness and togetherness that was promised in
participatory play only seemed to tell half the story, so to speak, of what
occurs in play. If, indeed, there was some kind of intimacy to be found in
play, either with other players or with the stuff of the world, then it was a
particularly, and perhaps necessarily impersonal one. Similarly, if there was
an openness to play, then it was, paradoxically enough, dependent upon the
closure of play from everything else. To say the least, it seemed that the cur-
rent convergence of play and art had to be scrutinised anew.
This is where the book began. In response, I chose to analyse works of
ludic participation as organisationally complex and systematic artefacts, in
order, perhaps, to develop a more sceptical fascination with such works. The
methodologies that allowed me to do this, systems theory and second-order
xii Preface
cybernetics, at first sight appear at odds with the ideals of participation.
Both, even as they enable a detailed analysis of social organisation and inter-
action in play, pointedly refuse what Richard Sennett called the “tyranny of
intimacy,” where the emotive experience, the fun and togetherness of partici-
pants are the measure of social truth.1 What is more, they offered a different
and somewhat unusual vocabulary of play and participation, one already used
in studies of gaming culture, but rarely in the study of play and games in art.
A systems approach seemed expansive,“a turn outwards,” as Mitchell Whitelaw
described it, to investigate broader cultural intersections and correlations.2
Such methodologies might allow analysis of how works of ludic participa-
tion organised and governed the contingency and indeterminacy that follows
inevitably from gathering unknown others together in the work of artistic
production and display. If it did so, then it might move beyond a criticism
that seemed decidedly against sustained critical analysis of such contingen-
cies and indeterminacies. In his laudable advocacy of critical discernment and
evaluation, Jerry Saltz asks the critic not to look at art “in narrow, academic
or ‘objective’ ways, but [to engage] uncertainty and contingency, [suspend]
disbelief, and [try] to create a place for doubt, unpredictability, curiosity and
openness.”3 In response to this request, a method of criticism derived from
systems thinking might attend closely and through disciplined analysis and
judgement to how “doubt, unpredictability, curiosity and openness” are organ-
ised variously by works of art. Such questions had already been addressed by
a systems aesthetics widespread in new media and electronic art since the early
1960s, and newly emergent from the 1990s onward, but had received only
sporadic treatment in the analysis of contemporary participatory art.
What follows, then, is an attempt to develop what I call a formal criti-
cism of ludic participation. This latter offers an opportunity to rethink the
current significance of the changeable relation between play and art. We
require a method of criticism that can least of all describe its organisational
complexity and systematicity. There are a number of questions to be asked
of such a criticism. What explanatory or evaluative capacity does it possess?
In what ways do its descriptions of ludic participation guide our apprecia-
tion of these works? Can this criticism account for the various modalities of
ludic participation, its diverse and particular forms, the ways in which, for
example, it organises play events and playgrounds? I will respond to these
questions throughout the book. The reader may judge whether or not these
responses are adequate, and whether or not the questions themselves, and
the project of formal criticism from which they derive, are valid.
Before that, I present a couple of qualifications. I have chosen to analyse
single works in detail rather offer a survey of ludic participation. Although
the works chosen function as exemplars of certain problems of participation,
organised complexity, and governance, and have been chosen on that basis,
they stand neither for all works of art that require participation nor for all that
include play and games. Nor does a formal criticism of these works provide gen-
eral principles according to which all participatory works might be described
Preface xiii
and evaluated. The methodological tools of systems theory and second-order
cybernetics are used here as a heuristic, which allows me to address a number
of problems with regard to how ludic participation is organised in certain cases.
My ambition is not to bring every example under a totalising theory, but to aim
for coherence and consistency in the criticism of ludic participation. Working
through single works in detail tests the consistency and the descriptive robust-
ness of a formal criticism. After all, any method of criticism worth its salt must
be able to attend to the singular and, at times, contradictory qualities of a work
of art. It must be able to show us enough of those qualities for us to move con-
fidently from description to evaluation, knowing full well that enough is not
everything. This is especially important when aiming to translate methodologies
from other fields of knowledge into art criticism. Systems theory, for example,
seems not to provide any clear criteria for the evaluative judgement of works
of art, one of the basic requirements of criticism. Or more precisely, it offers
only a functional account of a work of art. It becomes a matter more of how a
particular work of art is reproduced in ongoing communications, in conversa-
tions, press releases, transactions, commentaries, blogs, tweets, footnotes, and
so forth, than whether or not it is any good. Admittedly, this lack of criteria has
been a problem for some time within the field of art criticism itself, so there
seems to be no loss in this latest translation. More positively, however, in the
absence of such criteria, is this still criticism worthy of the name? As noted, it is
not enough to base evaluation upon the mere evidence of play, as though play is
a value in and of itself. Perhaps, we can evaluate ludic participation on the basis
of its systemic insights, but again, just what this might involve in actual critical
analysis remains to be seen.
A critical method also must face the basic but difficult and unresolved
ekphrastic work of paraphrase, substitution, and translation when faced
with a complex work of art, in such a way as to allow for reciprocity in the
work of analysis and to allow itself to be remade in response to qualities
peculiar to the object of analysis. As Thomas Crow argues, it is a mistake to
deny a work of art any “independent claim or comeback against the mode
of explanation made of it.”4 This is especially important, once again, when
making use of a theoretical framework, social systems theory, which, at least
for one of its principal theorists, Niklas Luhmann, seeks to explain all social
phenomena in its terms. Certainly, in his most extensive work on art, the
book Art as a Social System, Luhmann’s discussion of actual works of art is
cursory, to say the least. Any use of systems theory in the work of criticism
must address this shortfall. If it can achieve this, then Play and Participation
in Contemporary Arts Practices might begin to outline the critical advan-
tages of a sceptical fascination with contemporary ludic participation.
* * *
NOTES
1. The phrase is from Richard Sennett, The Fall of Public Man (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1974), 338, quoted in Dietrich Schwanitz, ‘Systems
Theory and the Difference between Communication and Consciousness: An
Introduction to a Problem and Its Context,’ MLN 111, no. 3 (April 1996): 500.
2. Mitchell Whitelaw, ‘1968/1998: Rethinking a Systems Aesthetic,’ ANAT
Newsletter 33 (May 1998).
3. Jerry Saltz, ‘Writing Wrongs,’ Frieze 95 (October 2005): 36.
4. Thomas Crow, The Intelligence of Art (Chapel Hill, NC: University of North
Carolina Press, 1999), 5.
Introduction
I feel that we ought to know more about the way complex orders are
created.1
* * *
This aesthetics was consistent with the move away from medium-specific
paradigms of art production and evaluation, toward models of seriality,
recursion, and process, and indicated, as Haacke claims, a shift in under-
standing the work of art from a discrete and autonomous object to an inte-
grated and dynamic complex of elements acting in relation to one another
and in relation to an environment. These elements might be semiotic, visual,
graphic, discursive, mechanical, or emotional, and the systems established
might be biological, physical, or social. It is as a system that the work of art
can begin to interact with other complex systems, whether social, economic,
climatic, or otherwise. In 1968, the artist and critic Jack Burnham went so
far as to claim that, “We are now in transition from an object-oriented to a
systems-oriented culture. Here change emanates, not from things, but from
the way things are done.” Hence, his prediction that: “a Systems Esthetic
will become the dominant approach to a maze of socio-technical condi-
tions rooted only in the present.”32
Pamela Lee has shown that the rhetoric of systems thinking “informs and
certainly facilitates a new understanding of many of the artistic practice of
the 1960s,” especially those concerned with temporality and process.33 A
systems aesthetic did not come to dominate as Burnham predicted, at least
in the 1970s and 1980s, yet there has emerged since the late 1990s an exten-
sive critical literature on the subject, relating mostly but not exclusively
to the study of electronic arts, telematics, computer art, and new media
art.34 However, outside of these fields systems thinking is still rarely applied
or identified, despite its interdisciplinary foundations. Our question then
becomes “What insights might be offered by such systems thinking that will
guide analysis of ludic participation and its precursors?” First of all, it is
necessary to clarify just what systems thinking involves.
8 Introduction
As suggested by Burnham, with the study of a system, structure, or the
order of parts, and function, or the order of processes (“the way things
are done”), are the same thing.35 Or, as Lee writes, it is question “not [of]
ontology – what things are, but [of] ontogenesis – how things become.”36
This is an insight that both general systems theory and cybernetics share,
and it means that in the attempt to understand the principles of organisa-
tion of a complex system it is necessary to study how a system functions
rather than study its constituent parts, in the understanding that these lat-
ter are mutually entangled. What is more, since Von Bertalanffy, there has
been a turn toward the study of open systems, which is to say, systems that
are interdependent with an environment. This departs from the classical
conception of systems as wholes that conserve a closed organisation and
which tend towards a state of equilibrium. Von Bertalanffy contends that
the second law of thermodynamics, according to which all closed systems
tend toward maximum entropy, does not fully explain organic systems.
These latter do not decay but are instead negentropic, having an orderliness
that delays entropy and which they achieve precisely by remaining open to
their respective environments.37 As Norbert Wiener wrote, “There are local
enclaves whose direction seems opposed to that of the universe at large
and in which there is a limited and temporary tendency for organisation to
increase.”38 This is not only true of organic systems. Edgar Morin explains
the behaviour of open systems with both organic and inorganic examples.
The stability of the candle flame, the stability of the internal environ-
ment of a cell or organism, are not at all connected to such an equilib-
rium [of a closed system]. There is, on the contrary, disequilibrium in
the energetic flux that feeds them. Without this flux, there would be an
organisational malfunction, leading quickly to decline.39
The question then becomes how it is that an open system operates such that,
in disequilibrial interaction with its environment, it is able, in the words of
Niklas Luhmann, “to build up order and to maintain negentropy.”40 How
is it that an open system does not simply degrade? To put this differently,
how is it that an open system organises its own complexity in distinction to
the complexity of its more complex environment? This is the “fundamental
problem” that a general systems theory sets out to address, a problem made
all the more puzzling because of the improbability of a system’s organisa-
tion.41 It is much more probable that a system degrade toward disorder.
Many systems theorists have addressed this question of organisational com-
plexity in light of what has become known as second-order cybernetics.
An important modification to note here is that in information theory as it
derives from Wiener’s contemporary, Claude Shannon, entropy is identified
with information, not opposed to it. The improbable is higher in informa-
tion than the probable, which makes the former essential to increasingly
complex organisation.42
Introduction 9
I will not go into details here, but it is important to point out how
second-order cybernetics advances our understanding of what is a system.
Cybernetics in general studies how complex systems use information, mod-
elling, and controlling operations to govern a system toward a particular
goal, despite obstacles and disturbances. The difference between first-order
and second-order cybernetics is that for the former, a system is something
given, to be observed objectively and passively. For the latter, by contrast,
an observer necessarily interacts with the system observed. This means
that a complex system includes both the observer of that system and the
model that observer has of the system itself, as well as the models of other
observers of that same system.43 In other words, a complex system includes
observations of its own observations, or second-order observations. As
Luhmann writes, “The second order observation observes only how others
observe.”44 Understood in this way, a system is complex in the sense out-
lined above, insofar as it constantly faces the observation of its contingency
(such as discrepancies or disagreements between observers of a system, or
the necessarily reductive models made of the state of a system) and must
in some way include those observations in the ongoing organisation of the
system. This has consequences for how the construction of a system is to
be understood. An observer is now taken to have a structuring function in
the observed system. Lee writes,
NOTES
1. Ernst Gombrich, ‘Raphael’s Madonna della Sedia,’ in Norm and Form: Studies
in the Art of the Renaissance (Oxford: Phaidon, 1978), 77.
2. Matthew Schum, ‘The Spectre of Evaluation: Interview with Thomas
Hirschhorn,’ Flash Art 278 (May–June 2011): 111.
3. Claire Bishop, Artificial Hells: Participatory Art and the Politics of Spectatorship
(London: Verso, 2012), 2.
4. Words in bold and italics signify glossary terms. The Ludic Museum confer-
ence took place at Tate Liverpool between 31 January and 1 February 2014 to
accompany an exhibition revisiting Palle Nielsen’s The Model—A Model for a
Qualitative Society, which first took place in the Moderna Museet, Stockholm,
during October 1968.
5. Grant Kester, Conversation Pieces: Community and Communication in Modern
Art (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2004); and The One and the Many:
Contemporary Collaborative Art in the Global Context (Durham, NC: Duke
University Press, 2011).
6. Bishop, 7.
7. Ibid.
8. Kester, 24, 32–33.
9. Arman Avanessian, ‘Aesthetics of Form Revisited,’ in Aesthetics and Contemporary
Art, ed. A. Avanessian and L. Skrebowski (Berlin: Sternberg Press, 2011), 33.
10. I here modify Eva Knodt’s presentation of this question in her Foreword to
N. Luhmann, Social Systems, trans. E. M. Knodt (Stanford, CA: Stanford
University Press, 1995), xvii.
11. Mick Wilson, ‘Autonomy, Agonism, and Activist Art: An Interview with Grant
Kester,’ Art Journal 66, no. 3 (Fall 2007): 108.
12. Kester, 14.
13. Carey Wolfe, ‘Meaning as Event-Machine, Or: Systems Theory and “The
Reconstruction of Deconstruction”: Derrida and Luhmann,’ in Emergence and
Embodiment: New Essays on Second-Order Systems Theory, ed. B. Clarke and
M. B. N. Hansen (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2009), 229.
14. Carey Wolfe, ‘In Search of Posthumanist Theory: The Second-Order Cybernetics
of Maturana and Varela,’ in Observing Complexity: Systems Theory and
Postmodernity, ed. W. Rasch and C. Wolfe (Minneapolis, MN: University of
Minnesota Press, 2000), 186.
15. Katherine Hayles, ‘Information or Noise? Economy of Explanation in Barthes’
S/Z and Shannon’s Information Theory,’ in One Culture: Essays in Science and
Literature, ed. G. Levine (Madison, WI: University of Wisconsin Press, 1987).
16. Gregory Bateson, ‘Style, Grace, and Information in Primitive Art,’ in Steps to an
Ecology of Mind (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1972), 145–47. Our
question to a work of art should be, Bateson argues: “What sorts of correction
in the direction of wisdom would be achieved by creating or viewing this work
of art?”
14 Introduction
17. See also Bateson’s Mind and Nature: A Necessary Unity (New York: E. P. Dutton,
1979).
18. Martin Herbert, The Uncertainty Principle (Berlin: Sternberg Press, 2014), 10.
19. Edgar Morin, ‘Le retour de l’événement,’ Communications 18 (1972): 6–20.
20. Bruno Latour, ‘On Interobjectivity,’ Mind, Culture, and Activity 3, no. 4 (1996): 223.
21. Francis Heylighen in Carlos Gershenson, ed. Complexity: 5 Questions,
(Copenhagen: Automatic Press, 2008), 69.
22. William Rasch, Niklas Luhmann’s Modernity: The Paradoxes of Differentiation
(Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2000), 47.
23. D. Baecker, ‘Systems, Network, and Culture,’ presented at the international sympo-
sium Relational Sociology: Transatlantic Impulses for the Social Sciences, Berlin,
25 to 26 September 2008, accessed 25 February 2009, http://www.relational-
sociology.de/baecker2.pdf.
24. Ibid., 47.
25. Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi and Stith Bennett, ‘An Exploratory Model of Play,’
American Anthropologist 73, no. 1 (1971): 46.
26. Johann Huizinga, Homo Ludens: A Study of the Play Element in Culture (Boston:
Beacon Press, 1955), 10.
27. Ludwig Von Bertalanffy, General Systems Theory: Foundations, Development,
Applications (London: Allen Lane, 1971), 36.
28. Edgar Morin, Introduction à la pensée complexe (Paris: Editions du Seuil, 2005), 29.
29. Von Bertalanffy, 36.
30. Ibid., vii.
31. Hans Haacke, untitled statement in Conceptual Art and Conceptual Aspects, ed.
Donald Karshan (New York: New York Cultural Centre, 1970), republished in
Theories and Documents of Contemporary Art: A Sourcebook of Artist’s Writ-
ings, ed. K. Stiles and P. Selz (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1996), 874.
32. Jack Burnham, ‘Systems Esthetics,’ Artforum 7, no. 1 (September 1968): 31,
35. See also, Francis Halsall, Systems of Art: Art, History and Systems Theory
(Oxford: Peter Lang, 2008); Luke Skrebowski, ‘All Systems Go: Recovering
Hans Haacke’s Systems Art,’ Grey Room 30 (Winter 2008): 54–83; and Cath-
erine Jones, ‘Hans Haacke 1967’ in Hans Haacke 1967 (Cambridge, MA: MIT
Press, 2011).
33. Pamela Lee, Chronophobia: On Time in the Art of the 1960s (Cambridge, MA:
MIT Press, 2004), 67.
34. See Edward Shanken, ‘Reprogramming Systems Aesthetics: A Strategic Histori-
ography,’ Proceedings of the Digital Arts and Culture Conference, University of
California, Irvine, December 2009, http://escholarship.org/uc/item/6bv363d4.
35. Von Bertalanffy, 32.
36. Lee, 64.
37. Von Bertalanffy, 30.
38. Norbert Wiener, The Human Use of Human Beings: Cybernetics and Society
(Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1954), 12.
39. Morin, 30.
40. Niklas Luhmann, ‘Operational Closure and Structural Coupling: the Differen-
tiation of the Legal System,’ Cardozo Law Review 13 (1992): 1419.
41. Von Bertalanffy, 31.
42. See Claude E. Shannon, ‘A Mathematical Theory of Communication,’ Bell System
Technical Journal 27 (July–October 1948): 379–423, 623–56.
Introduction 15
43. See Francis Heylighen and Cliff Joslyn, ‘Cybernetics and Second-Order Cybernetics,’
in Encyclopaedia of Physical Science & Technology, 3d ed., vol. 4, ed. R. A. Meyers,
(New York: Academic Press, 2001): 4:155–70.
44. Luhmann, 62.
45. Lee, 66.
46. Heinz von Foerster, ‘Molecular Ethology, An Immodest Proposal for Semantic
Clarification,’ in Understanding Understanding: Essays on Cybernetics and Cog-
nition (New York: Springer, 2003), 140.
47. Bruce Clarke and Mark Hansen, ‘Introduction: Neocybernetic Emergence,’ in
Emergence and Embodiment, 6.
48. See R. Keith Sawyer, Social Emergence: Societies as Complex Systems (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 2005), 3.
49. Paul Cilliers, Complexity and Postmodernism: Understanding Complex Systems
(London: Routledge, 1998), 95.
50. James Gleick, Chaos: Making a New Science (London: Vintage, 1998), 24.
51. Ibid., 10.
52. Von Foerster, 141.
53. Cilliers, 98.
54. Carlos Gershenson and Francis Heylighen, ‘How Can We Think the Complex?’
in Philosophy, Theory and Application, vol. 1, Managing the Complex, ed.
K. A. Richardson (Institute for the Study of Coherence and Emergence/Information
Age Publishing, 2004), 1:12.
55. Hayles, 104.
56. Katie Salen and Eric Zimmerman, Rules of Play: Game Design Fundamentals
(Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 2004), 80.
57. Johann Huizinga, Homo Ludens: A Study of the Play Element in Culture (Boston:
Beacon Press, 1955), 10. Salen and Zimmerman, 95.
58. Ibid., 97.
59. Augustine, The Confessions of Augustine, ed. W. G. T. Shedd (Boston: Draper
and Halliday, 1867), Book XI, XIV 17, 313.
60. Susanna Millar, The Psychology of Play (London: Penguin, 1968), 256.
61. Thomas S. Henricks, ‘Orderly and Disorderly Play: A Comparison,’ American
Journal of Play 2 (2009): 13.
62. Brian Sutton-Smith, The Ambiguity of Play (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University
Press, 1997).
63. Gregory Bateson, ‘The Message “This is Play,”’ Transactions of the Second
Conference on Group Processes, October (1955): 216. During this discussion
of the message “this is play,” Bateson recounts more detailed studies of otters
made with his research assistant, the poet Weldon Kees. These studies involved
two male otter at the Fleishacker Zoo in San Franscisco, observed between
December 1952 and April 1954. The play behaviour of these otters was cap-
tured in the film The Nature of Play, Part One: River Otters, released in 1954
(23 minutes, b/w).
1 Precursors to Ludic Participation
With the gradual collapse of High Modernism from the late 1950s onward,
diverse arts practices moved away from the studio-to-gallery model of artis-
tic production and began to investigate more performance-based or event-
based models, which allowed for participation, so-called “live” production,
and distributed authorship. The use of play and games reorganised the
encounter with art to be participatory, unpredictable, aleatory, or distrib-
uted. In light of this expansion of art toward ludic participation, the aim
of this chapter is threefold. Firstly, it is to show that with early examples
of ludic participation, whereby the work of art was expanded to unknown
others through play, there was an explicit and implicit engagement with
systems, or at the very least, an understanding of play and games as distinct
organisational modes. Secondly, it is to how discuss two works of early ludic
participation exemplify two distinct arguments for how play and art meet.
On the one hand, there is a humanist argument for play, for which play
constitutes a gain in agency for an individual or a group and allows players
to take pleasure in mastery, if only within the magic circle of their play. On
the other hand, there is a posthumanist argument, for which the player is
as much plaything as master of her play. In this case, to be in play is to be
played. Or more precisely, it is to be mutually entangled and conditional
upon other players, play objects, and dynamic, sometimes emergent pro-
cesses. It would be mistaken to call any one player a master of his play.
Admittedly, this is a schematic distinction, and the examples I discuss are
explained exhaustively by neither the one nor the other argument, but the
distinction still has explanatory power and follows many previous attempts
to think play and art together. On the one hand, and here I follow Robert
Wilson’s summary of two traditions in the literature on play, there is that
which advocates play as the optimal achievement and free expression of
those who participate in it. On the other hand, there is that which counters
this humanism with the description of systems or a world at play, upon
which human agency is conditional.1 As we shall see in the chapters to fol-
low, current works of ludic participation inherit these arguments, both in
the intentions of their authors and in the critical evaluations made of them.
Thirdly, the aim of this chapter is to show that this book’s claim for the
systematicity of contemporary ludic participation is consistent with selected