Journal articles on the topic 'Lantern projection'

In the early days of biological electron microscopy (the 1950s and 1960s), projection slides of electron micrographs for talks or teaching were generally prepared as 3-1/2″ X 4″ lantern slides, which were shown using large lantern-slide projectors. It was felt by professional electron microscopists that the detail, tones, and general image quality of electron micrographs could be adequately portrayed only in this larger format.However the large lantern slides were very cumbersome, and most professionals began switching to 2″ X 2″ slides in the early 1970s. Some of us during that period put in a great deal of time trying to work out a procedure for printing EM negatives directly on 2″ X 2″ glass Kodak Projector Slide Plates, following the general approach by which we had previously made the 3-1/4″ X 4″ lantern slides.

The introduction into the laboratory of the magic lantern and the arts of projection marked a change from putatively individual and mechanical to obviously collective and skillful perception in nineteenth-century German sciences. In 1860 Karl Friedrich Zöllner introduced an astro-photometer to astronomers who, by practising with it, became aware of their own tacit and ubiquitous skills. Zöllner was a showman who was aware of the personal skills involved in magic-lantern projection. Like showmen, nineteenth-century astronomers could also control and calibrate their vision with this instrument. Photometrists such as Zöllner were not only aware of subjectivity, but developed techniques to manipulate, control and to employ it in scientific judgements. This view stands in contrast to that of the scientists described by Lorraine Daston and Peter Galison, for whom ‘machines offered freedom from will – from the willful interventions that had come to be seen as the most dangerous aspects of subjectivity’. But with Zöllner's successful programme of instrumental subjectivity, acts of willful intervention were at the very centre of astronomical judgement.

On 17 May 1861, James Clerk Maxwell delivered a lecture at the Royal Society where he demonstrated, using a lantern slide projection, his theory for colour perception in the human eye via the additive colour process known today as RGB. Three images from three separate lantern slide projectors were projected onto a surface. The same colour filters with which the object had been photographed where then placed in front of each projection lens, carefully realigned, and what has been called “the first colour photograph” was supposed to have been created. It was a series of happy accidents, during capture and exposure, and a misinterpretation of the results—mostly long after the event itself—that has invented this commonly referred to fictional “First Ever” title. In the following retelling of the historical details in their chronological order and through a series of experiments with historically correct emulsions, we will clearly outline the errors and where they occurred.

Due to a lack of sources documenting everyday teaching practices, historians engaging with the use of the optical lantern in education have traditionally focused on the top-down implementation of the medium. This contribution presents a rare case study of how the medium was actually used by focusing on a lesson on the saint Joan of Arc that was taught by means of the optical lantern at a Catholic school for girls. This analysis is enabled by the preservation of an exceptionally rich collection of lantern slides and related materials, including a notebook with the text that was probably used during the projection of the images. These sources show that the teacher who was in charge of the lesson went to great lengths to combine various images and text fragments with each other, creating a unique narrative that corresponded to her Catholic worldview and goals.

Through an examination of Proust's ‘magic lantern’ scene from the opening of A la recherche du temps perdu, alongside the work of the contemporary installation artist Tony Oursler, this article takes projection as a means of exploring the relationship between subjectivity and embodiment. Reading them in conjunction with Deleuze and Guattari's concept of ‘faciality’, I argue that Oursler's installations, combining performance, sculpture and video art, explore the fate of the body subjected to signification and can be described as ‘tragedies of faciality’. At the same time, anchored as they are in material relations, they are unable to detach the subject from the limits of the body in the radical way Proust can, via a literary account of projection which is, I argue, doubly virtual.

The history of the magic lantern provides a privileged case study with which to explore the histories of projection, demonstration, illusion and the occult, and their different intersections. I focus on the role of the magic lantern in the work of the Jesuit Athanasius Kircher and the French Cartesian Abbé de Vallemont. After explaining the various meanings of the seventeenth-century concept of illusio, I propose a new solution for the long-standing problem that Kircher added the ‘wrong’ illustrations to his description of the lantern. The complex interaction between text, image and performance was crucial in Kircher's work and these ‘wrong’ figures provide us with a key to interpreting his Ars Magna. I argue that Vallemont used the magic lantern in a similar rhetorical way in a crucial phase of his argument. The magic lantern should not be understood merely as an illustrative image or an item of demonstration apparatus; rather the instrument is employed as part of a performance which is not meant simply to be entertaining. Both authors used a special form of scientific demonstration, which I will term ‘analogical demonstration’, to bolster their world view. This account opens new ways to think about the relation between instruments and the occult.Sol fons lucis universi, vas admirabile, opus Excelsi, divinitatis thalamus, risus coeli, decor, & pulchritudo mundiA. KircherFor one of those Gnostics, the visible universe was an illusion or, more precisely, a sophism. Mirrors and fatherhood are abominable because they multiply it and extend it.J. L. Borges

The magic lantern as a projection technique, which has existed in Europe since the 17th century (at the latest), and phantasmagoria as a large-scale magic lantern occupy a prominent place in the world history of visual culture. As they spread across the world, these technologies encountered written cultures and produced fantastic literature—phantasmagorical literature, so to speak. This article analyzes phantasmagorical literature written or published circa 1827 by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749–1832) of Germany, (SIN Chaha, also called [SIN Wi], 1769–18452 of Korea, and (KYOKUTEI Bakin, 1767–1848) of Japan. This is a demonstration of a novel approach to comparative literature, which compares literary works in the light of global technological history, and this is an attempt to give an insight into the world history of visual culture from the perspective of 1827.

Japanese gentō (originally a translation of the English term “magic lantern”) is a still-image projection system that enlarges images on a transparent slide or film and projects them onto a large screen. Most studies argue that the magic lantern, stereopticon, or gentō thrived from the seventeenth to the nineteenth centuries and that their use declined in the early twentieth century with the arrival of the motion picture. This article examines the revival and redevelopment of gentō in mid-twentieth-century Japan, focusing on its use in 1950s social movements (including labor, social welfare, and political protest movements) and exploring how independent gentō works represented the landscapes, histories, and everyday lives threatened by the presence of U.S. military forces in Japan. It also examines the representation of female gender and sexuality in these gentō works, looking at the ways they depict women as both symbols of a victimized and humiliated homeland and as threats to the order of paternalistic family and society in Japan.

Cet article met en lumière les domaines professionnels très différenciés de l’art - et du commerce - de projection au milieu et à la fin du xix e siècle, en prenant pour exemple l’entrepreneur de médias Paul Hoffmann. Hoffmann utilisait la technique de projection la plus moderne pour illustrer des conférences populaires sur des sujets scientifiques. Ses “Grands Spectacles” contribuaient de manière fondamentale à l’établissement de l’écran dans les grands théâtres et les salles de spectacles.

Public lectures were a typical social event to nineteenth and twentieth century audiences in the Netherlands. Among these, the so-called Nutslezingen were particularly well-known, eliciting praise, criticism, and mockery. The wide use of term Nutslezing is confirmed by its inclusion in the Van Dale dictionary with defines it as “lecture for a department of ‘t Nut.” The Maatschappij tot Nut van ’t Algemeen, Society for the Common Benefit, was established in the Netherlands in 1784, and the Nutslezingen were one of their earliest and certainly the most recognizable of their activities. In 1900, by becoming a member of the recently founded Vereeniging tot het houden van Voordrachten met Lichtbeelden, Association for the Organization of Illustrated Lectures, the departments of ‘t Nut gained access to a collection of slide-sets and readings which they could use for their lectures. Using Frank Kessler’s concept of the educational magic lantern dispositif, this article will examine how the projection of lantern slides was incorporated in the Nutslezingen and how the historical stakeholders, audiences, speakers, local board members, and the national administration of ‘t Nut engaged with the technology, in theory and in practice.

Henry Clifton Sorby formed his marine zoological and algal collection not only for private study but also as a means of displaying material to large audiences. It is unique in that Sorby devised and perfected a technique to mount and preserve the specimens as projection ("lantern") slides. The algal herbarium described in detail in this paper forms part of a much larger collection of marine animals preserved in the same way. The specimens are held between two pieces of glass 8.3 cm square and are preserved in such a way as to be translucent yet retaining remarkable colour. The technique involves rendering the specimens almost completely flat without distorting the shape. While not so difficult with the algae, this was a considerable feat with the animals. The collection is in the keeping of the Sheffield City Museums, and the Zoology Department of the University of Sheffield.

Abstract: Dublin's themed charity bazaars of the 1890s were a significant influence on Joyce, most obviously as a source of "Araby"'s negative epiphany but more pervasively by showcasing visual science and technology and preparing the ground for cinema. This essay explores some key impacts on Ulysses . "Cyclopia" (1896) was the most scientific and technological. Joyce had a personal stake in its theme given his eyesight problems but also precocious fascination with optics and "cinematicity." "Cyclopia" punned on the objective of producing "one eye hospital" for Dublin through merging institutions. Similarly, the "cyclopean image" denotes binocular vision's merging of images from different eyes into 3-D. "Cyclopia" showcased a giant mechanical model of the eye, amid a spectrum of entertainments defamiliarizing vision, including a giant outdoor magic lantern screen, film projection by "Animatograph," and Ireland's first popular demonstrations of X-rays. "Cyclopia" responded to the mission of Victorian scientists to enlighten the public about vision and its manipulation. Newspaper reports confirm that Dubliners were enthralled by its "Cyclopean Eye"'s camera-like gaze, which also recalled the Odyssey 's one-eyed giant. Similarly, by modernizing Homer's monster in the tropes of Ulysses , Joyce subverted his counterpart's monoptic nationalism by Bloom's more "rounded," stereoscopic vision.

This paper explores how the scientific materialist worldview, where any inexplicable phenomenon is regarded as an artefact of incomplete understanding or error, arose from earlier models of the cosmos. In these earlier cosmologies, the mysterious remained an important component and the role of light was a key factor in expressing an ordered hierarchical ontology. Demonstrating the role of optics in the development and evolution of our understanding of the cosmos, the conception of light in the writings of Euclid, Plato and Ficino is surveyed. It is postulated that light starts off as an aspect of divine ineffability, and through the Scientific Revolution and Enlightenment becomes the light of human understanding. This development in understanding is traced through an examination of the optical studies of Descartes, Kircher and Bentham, and explored through four optical technologies: the spyglass, the camera obscura, the magic lantern, and the panopticon. As Jean Gebser points out in ‘The Ever Present Origin’ darkness must necessarily accompany the light, and this paper also examines the idea that the darkness that exists as the opposite of the Enlightenment, ends up located in the mind itself. This is investigated through an examination of Freud's use of the metaphor of the optical phenomenon of projection.

Résumé La périodisation est essentielle pour permettre à l’historien de structurer son appréhension du passé et possède une finalité relativement pédagogique. Tout exercice de périodisation est cependant un discours sur l’histoire et procède d’un croisement entre présent (celui du sujet historien) et passé (celui de l’objet historique). Un croisement qui relèverait d’ailleurs davantage du sujet percevant et de son contexte que de l’objet temporel supposément perçu. La périodisation serait ainsi fondamentalement un exercice proprement constructiviste. Premier exemple de périodisation, pour l’histoire du cinéma : le centenaire, en 1995. Mais que célèbre-t-on, au juste, au bout de cette période de cent années ? L’événement « originel » serait-il l’invention du Cinématographe Lumière et le dépôt du brevet ? Si tel est le cas, parler sans ambages du « centenaire du cinéma », c’est faire l’économie de la démonstration à la base de pareil positionnement, qui établit une adéquation biunivoque entre cinématographe et cinéma. Serait-ce plutôt la fameuse première projection publique payante du 28 décembre 1895 au Grand Café à Paris ? Quel statut aurait alors la toute première projection du Théâtre optique d’Émile Reynaud, qui a eu lieu au moins trois ans avant l’invention du Cinématographe Lumière ? Quel statut auraient les projections de lanterne magique ? Il s’agira de montrer ici que, dans le cas d’un média complexe comme le cinéma, l’on ne peut utiliser la notion de périodisation que si on la conjugue au pluriel et que tout essai de périodisation doit entrer en relation avec les diverses séries culturelles au croisement desquelles adviennent les médias. On verra qu’il n’est somme toute guère aisé de faire se croiser le maillage inextricable d’un média complexe comme le cinéma et une notion aussi unilinéaire et simplificatrice que celle de « période ».

AbstractLet π: X′ → X be a finite surjective morphism of complex projective manifolds which can be factored by an embedding of X′ into the total space of an ample line bundle 𝓛 over X. A theorem of Lazarsfeld asserts that Betti numbers of X and X′ are equal except, possibly, the middle ones. In the present paper it is proved that the middle numbers are actually non-equal if either 𝓛 is spanned and deg π ≥ dim X, or if X is either a hyperquadric or a projective space and π is not a double cover of an odd-dimensional projective space by a hyperquadric.

Jan Reisner (ca. 1655-1713) was a painter and architect. He was sent by King Jan III together with Jerzy Siemiginowski to study art at St. Luke Academy in Rome. He traveled to the Eternal City (where he arrived on February 24, 1678) with Prince Michał Radziwiłł’s retinue. Cardinal Carlo Barberini, who later became the protector of Regni Poloniae, was the guardian and protector of the artist during his studies in 1678-1682. In the architectural competition announced by the Academy in 1681 Reisner was awarded the fi prize in the fi class, and a little later he was accepted as a member of this prestigious university. He was awarded the Order of the Golden Spur (Aureatae Militiae Eques) and the title Aulae Lateranensis Comes, which was equivalent to becoming a nobleman. The architectural award was conferred by the jury of Concorso Academico, composed of the Academy’s principe painter Giuseppe Garzi, its secretary Giuseppe Gezzi, and the architects Gregorio Tommassini and Giovanni B. Menicucci. In the Archivio storico dell’Accademia di San Luca, preserved are three design drawings of a church made by Jan Reisner in pen and watercolor, showing the front elevation, longitudinal section, and a projection. Although they were made for the 1681 competition, they were labelled with the date 1682, when the prizes were already being awarded. Reisner’s design reflected the complicated trends in the architecture of the 1660s and 1670s, especially in the architectural education of St. Luke’s Academy. There, attempts were made to reconcile the classicistic tendencies promoted by the French court with the reference to the forms of mature Roman Baroque. As a result of this attempt to combine the features of the two traditions, an eclectic work was created, as well as other competition projects created by students of the St. Luke’s Academy. The architect designed the Barberini temple-mausoleum, on a circular plan with eight lower chapels opening inwards and a rectangular chancel. The inside of the rotund is divided into three parts: the main body with opening chapels, a tambour, and a dome with sketches of the Fall of Angels. Inside, there is an altar with a pillar-and-column canopy. The architectural origin of the building was determined by ancient buildings: the Pantheon (AD 125) and the Mausoleum of Constance (4th century AD). A modern school based of this model was opened by Andrea Palladio, who designed the Tempietto Barbaro in Maser from 1580. In the near future, the Santa Maria della Assunzione in Ariccia (1662-1664) by Bernini and Notre-Dame-de-l’Assomption (1670-1676) in Paris by Charles Errard could provide inspiration. In particular, the unrealized project of Carlo Fontana to adapt the Colosseum to the place of worship of the Holy Martyrs was undertaken by Clement X in connection with the celebration of the Holy Year in 1675. In the middle of the Flavius amphitheatre, he designed the elevation of a church in the form of an antique-styled rotunda, with a dome on a high tambour and a wreath of chapels encircling it. Equally important was the design of the fountain of the central church in Basque Loyola (Santuario di S. Ignazio a Loyola). In the Baroque realizations of the then Rome we find patterns for the architectural decoration of the Reisnerian church. In the layout and the artwork of the facades we notice the influence of the columnar Baroque facades, so common in different variants in the works of da Cortona, Borromini and Rainaldi. The monumental columnar facades built according to Carlo Rainaldi’s designs were newly completed: S. Andrea della Valle (1656 / 1662-1665 / 1666) and S. Maria in Campitelli (designed in 1658-1662 and executed in 1663-1667), and Borromini San Carlo alle Quatro Fontane (1667-1677). The angels supporting the garlands on the plinths of the tambour attic are modelled on the decoration of two churches of Bernini: S. Maria della Assunzione in Ariccia (1662-1664) and S. Andrea al Quirinale (1658-1670). The repertoire of mature Baroque also includes the window frames of the front facade of the floor in the form of interrupted beams and, with the header made in the form of sections capped with volutes. The design indicates that the chancel was to be laid out on a slightly elongated rectangle with rounded corners and covered with a ceiling with facets, with a cross-section similar to a heavily flattened dome. It is close to the solutions used by Borromini in the Collegio di Propaganda Fide and the Oratorio dei Filippini. The three oval windows decorated with C-shaped arches and with ribs coming out of the volute of the base of the dome, which were among the characteristic motifs of da Cortona, taken over from Michelangelo, are visible. The crowning lantern was given an original shape: a pear-shaped outline with three windows of the same shape, embraced by S-shaped elongated volutes, which belonged to the canonical motifs used behind da Cortona by the crowds of architects of late Baroque eclecticism. Along with learning architecture, which was typical at the Academy, Reisner learned painting and geodesy, thanks to which, after his return to Poland, he gained prestige and importance at the court of Jan III, then with the Płock Voivode Jan Krasiński. His promising architectural talent did gain prominence as an architect in Poland, although – like few students of St. Luke’s Academy – he received all the honors as a student and graduate.

This article intends to define and make available guidelines for the preventive conservation of hand-painted glass slides for magic lanterns, the first optical instruments for the projection of images, invented in the 17th century. For this purpose, around 300 hand-painted glass slides from the Portuguese Cinematheque – Museum of Cinema (CP) and Nacional Museum of Natural History and Science of the University of Lisbon (MUHNAC), were studied in terms of representativity in these collections, discursive genre, type of construction or movement mechanism, state of preservation and degradation problems. A survey was designed and distributed to institutions across the globe aiming for an overview of the formal characteristics of the collections of magic lantern slides and the preventive and interventive conservation measures undertaken. The guidelines are focused on the environmental conditions (temperature, relative humidity, and light), fine particles and pest control, storage and display conditions and materials, as well as handling. Recommendations on performative projections or demonstrations are also provided.

The introduction of a series of traded photographs of North and South American Silos into the discourse of modern architecture has been generally attributed to the German architect Walter Gropius when he published the photographs in the 1913 Jahrbuch des Deutschen Werkbundes. What remains overlooked is the photographs’ original dissemination platform: Gropius’ Monumentale Kunst und Industriebau Lichtbildervortrag [lantern slide lecture] from 1911. Based on a close reading of archival material – first the original lecture manuscript, which indicates that images and text were merged in performance, and then the photographic slides – this paper argues that the projector’s agency enables the foundation of these iconic buildings’ architectural criticism. Indeed such criticism actually takes place in the ephemeral space of the projection, rather than in the various printed media where it is usually located.

The digital revolution has not only transformed the process of thinking and making architecture,but has also led to shifts for researchers in the field and the institutions that safeguard and interpretevidence of the architect’s design process. As the rise of PowerPoint made it less cumbersometo view multiple images simultaneously, pioneering art historian Heinrich Wöfflin’s morelimited binary lantern slide presentation was effectively rendered obsolete. However, digital imagingand projection in the field brought risks as great as the new freedoms it afforded. The shiftfrom a work environment dominated until recently by drawings on paper and architectural models(even as CAD was being implemented over the last 20 years) to one dominated by digitaldesign and 3D modeling has irrevocably affected the ways contemporary architects produceand save their drawings as well as how they are stored and accessed in archives, how they aredisplayed, and how they are published. As technology has brought new horizons to the profession,the image of the architect has gone from the solitary scholar of Medieval architecture depictedby A. W. N. Pugin in 1841 to that of savvy manager overseeing large firms like Foster +Partners; the historian too has shed the image of recluse toiling in the bowels of a dusty archiveor library.1

Abstract It has become an urban legend or internet myth that James Clerk Maxwell created the first colour image and had demonstrated this at the Royal Institution in London in May 1861. He did present something, but what? In ‘The scientific papers of James Clerk Maxwell’ the experiment and resulting colour projection was regarded as a failure and barely mentioned. Thomas Sutton, a well-established and respected photographer, was tasked with carrying out Maxwell’s thought experiment using the latest photographic processes. Sutton, himself author of various books on photography, does not mention the experiment in any of his publications. Move forward to the 1930’s and enter the photo-chemist Douglas Arthur Spencer, who gained access to the original lantern slides and made the first and only physical print of the 1861 tartan ribbon. It is this colour print that we now see everywhere as Maxwell’s first colour photograph. In 1961, the 100th anniversary, Ralph M Evans published a paper in Scientific American trying to solve the riddle of the famous tartan ribbon. The original glass plate photographs were made using the wet-collodion process which has a very narrow spectral sensitivity centred in the blue light wavelength. Sutton could not have recorded in the green and red part of the spectrum. Evans deduced from an experiment with modern materials that Sutton had possibly recorded the ultraviolet reflection present in the red of the tartan ribbon and “accidently” presenting itself as the red slide. The resulting image can be considered a ‘false colour’ image. 160 years since that first experiment, we are exploring and executing some of the material and technical truths about wet-plate collodion and what might have actually been recorded and why is it that both Maxwell and Sutton regarded the experiment such a failure, but the rest of the world did not.

Durant l’entre-deux-guerres, le public parisien pouvait découvrir des spectacles entremêlant cinéma et opéra. Si le Gaumont-Palace inaugure en 1921 un type de créations mélangeant les deux formes avec Les Valses de l’Amour et de la Mort de Jean Nouguès, l’Opéra de Paris n’est pas en reste qui déjà à la fin du xixe siècle utilisait les lanternes magiques. Après une collaboration avec la cinéaste Germaine Dulac en 1927, le décor par projection s’y développe dans les années 1930 sous l’impulsion de son directeur Jacques Rouché et de l’artiste Ernest Klausz. Le cinéma apparaît comme l’un des moyens les plus efficaces pour moderniser le décor, aussi bien pour renforcer l’illusion réaliste que pour explorer une esthétique avant-gardiste. Mais cette hybridation n’est jamais tout à fait la même selon les œuvres, d’autant que le cinéma peut se comprendre aussi bien comme industrie, technique de projection ou encore lieu d’une expérience collective nouvelle. Au-delà des questions artistiques et esthétiques se révèlent des enjeux économiques et sociaux, visant notamment à dépasser l’opposition entre culture savante et culture populaire.

Introduction In this article, I explore the phenomenon of augmentation by questioning its representational nature and analyzing aesthetic modes of our interrelationship with the environment. How can senses be augmented and how do they serve as mechanisms of enhancing the feeling of presence? Media art practices offer particularly valuable scenarios of activating such mechanisms, as the employment of digital technology allows them to operate on a more subtle level of perception. Given that these practices are continuously evolving, this analysis cannot claim to be a comprehensive one, but rather aims to introduce aspects of the specific relations between augmentation, sense of proprioception, technology, and art. Proprioception is one of the least detectable and trackable human senses because it involves our intuitive sense of positionality, which suggests a subtle equilibrium between a center (our individual bodies) and the periphery (our immediate environments). Yet, as any sense, proprioception implies a communicational chain, a network of signals traveling and exchanging information within the body-mind complex. The technological augmentation of this dynamic process produces an interference in our understanding of the structure and elements, the information sent/received. One way to understand the operations of the senses is to think about them as images that the mind creates for itself. Artistic intervention (usually) builds upon exactly this logic: representation of images generated in mind, supplementing or even supplanting the existing collection of inner images with new, created ones. Yet, in case of proprioception the only means to interfere with and augment these inner images is on bodily level. Hence, the question of communication through images (or representations) should be extended towards a more complex theory of embodied perception. Drawing on phenomenology, cognitive science, and techno-cultural studies, I focus on the potential of biofeedback technologies to challenge and transform our self-perception by conditioning new pathways of apprehension (sometimes by creating mechanisms of direct stimulation of neural activity). I am particularly interested in how the awareness of the self (grounded in the felt relationality of our body parts) is most significantly activated at the moments of disturbance of balance, in situations of perplexity and disorientation. Projects by Marco Donnarumma, Sean Montgomery, and other artists working with biofeedback aesthetically validate and instantiate current research about neuro-plasticity, with technologically mediated sensory augmentation as one catalyst of this process. Augmentation as Representation: Proprioception and Proprioceptive Media Representation has been one of the key ways to comprehend reality. But representation also constitutes a spatial relation of distancing and separation: the spectator encounters an object placed in front of him, external to him. Thus, representation is associated more with an analytical, rather than synthetic, methodology because it implies detachment and division into parts. Both methods involve relation, yet in the case of representation there is a more distinct element of distance between the representing subject and represented object. Representation is always a form of augmentation: it extends our abilities to see the "other", otherwise invisible sides and qualities of the objects of reality. Representation is key to both science and art, yet in case of the latter, what is represented is not a (claimed) "objective" scheme of reality, but rather images of the imaginary, inner reality (even figurative painting always presents a particular optical and psychological perspective, to say nothing about forms of abstract art). There are certain kinds of art (visual arts, music, dance, etc.) that deal with different senses and thus, build their specific representational structures. Proprioception is one of the senses that occupies relatively marginal position in artistic production (which is exactly because of the specificity of its representational nature and because it does not create a sense of an external object. The term "proprioception" comes from Latin propius, or "one's own", "individual", and capio, cepi – "to receive", "to perceive". It implies a sense of one's self felt as a relational unity of parts of the body most vividly discovered in movement and in effort employed in it. The loss of proprioception usually means loss of bodily orientation and a feeling of one's body (Sacks 43-54). On the other hand, in case of additional stimulation and training of this sense (not only via classical cyber-devices, like cyber-helmets, gloves, etc. that set a different optics, but also techniques of different kinds of altered states of mind, e.g. through psychotropics, but also through architecture of virtual space and acoustics) a sense of disorientation that appears at first changes towards some analogue of reactions of enthusiasm, excitement discovery, and emotion of approaching new horizons. What changes is not only perception of external reality, but a sense of one's self: the self is felt as fluid, flexible, with penetrable borders. Proprioception implies initial co-existence of the inner and outer space on the basis of originary difference and individuality/specificity of the occupied position. Yet, because they are related, the "external" and "other" already feels as "one's own", and this is exactly what causes the sense of presence. Among the many possible connections that the body, in its sense of proprioception, is always already ready for, only a certain amount gets activated. The result of proprioception is a special kind of meta-stable internal image. This image may not coincide with the optical, auditory, or haptic image. According to Brian Massumi, proprioception translates the exertions and ease of the body's encounters with objects into a muscular memory of relationality. This is the cumulative memory of skill, habit, posture. At the same time as proprioception folds tactility in, it draws out the subject's reactions to the qualities of the objects it perceives through all five senses, bringing them into the motor realm of externalizable response. (59) This internal image is not mediated by anything, though it depends directly on the relations between the parts. It cannot be grasped because it is by definition fluid and dynamic. The position in one point is replaced here by a position-in-movement (point-in-movement). "Movement is not indexed by position. Rather, the position is born in movement, from the relation of movement towards itself" (Massumi 179). Philosopher of "extended mind" Andy Clark notes that we should distinguish between a real body schema (non-conscious configuration) and a body image (conscious construct) (Clark). It is the former that is important to understand, and yet is the most challenging. Due to its fluidity and self-referentiality, proprioception is not presentable to consciousness (the unstable internal image that it creates resides in consciousness but cannot be grasped and thus re-presented). A feeling/sense, it is not bound by sensible forms that would serve as means of objectification and externalization. As Barbara Montero observes, while the objects of vision and hearing, i.e. the most popular senses involved in the arts, are beyond one's body, sense of proprioception relates directly to the bodily sensation, it does not represent any external objects, but the sensory itself (231). These characteristics of proprioception help to reframe the question of augmentation as mediation: in the case of proprioception, the medium of sensation is the very relational structure of the body itself, irrespective of the "exteroceptive" (tactile) or "interoceptive" (visceral) dimensions of sensibility. The body is understood, then, as the "body without image,” and its proprioceptive effect can then be described as "the sensibility proper to the muscles and ligaments" (Massumi 58). Proprioception in (Media) Art One of the most convincing ways of externalization and (re)presentation of the data of proprioception is through re-production of its structure and its artificial enhancement with the help of technology. This can be achieved in at least two ways: by setting up situations and environments that emphasize self-perspective and awareness of perception, and by presenting measurements of bio-data and inviting into dialogue with them. The first strategy may be connected to disorientation and shifted perspective that are created in immersive virtual environments that make the role of otherwise un-trackable, fluid sense of proprioception actually felt and cognized. These effects are closely related to the nuances of perception of space, for instance, to spatial illusion. Practice of spatial illusion in the arts traces its history as far back as Roman frescos, trompe l’oeil, as well as phantasmagorias, like magic lantern. Geometrically, the system of the 360º image is still the most effective in producing a sense of full immersion—either in spaces from panoramas, Stereopticon, Cinéorama to CAVE (Computer Augmented Virtual Environments), or in devices for an individual spectator’s usage, like a stereoscope, Sensorama and more recent Head Mounted Displays (HMD). All these devices provide a sense of hermetic enclosure and bodily engagement with its scenes (realistic or often fantastical). Their images are frameless and thus immeasurable (lack of the sense of proportion provokes feeling of disorientation), image apparatus and the image itself converge here into an almost inseparable total unity: field of vision is filled, and the medium becomes invisible (Grau 198-202; 248-255). Yet, the constructed image is even more frameless and more peculiarly ‘mental’ in environments created on the basis of objectless or "immaterial" media, like light or sound; or in installations prioritizing haptic sensation and in responsive architectures, i.e. environments that transform physically in reaction to their inhabitants. The examples may include works by Olafur Eliasson that are centered around the issues of conscious perception and employ various optical and other apparata (mirrors, curved surfaces, coloured glass, water systems) to shift the habitual perspective and make one conscious of the subtle changes in the environment depending on one's position in space (there have been instances of spectators in Eliasson's installations falling down after trying to lean against an apparent wall that turned out to be a mere optical construct.). Figure 1: Olafur Eliasson, Take Your Time, 2008. © Olafur Eliasson Studio. In his classic H2OExpo project for Delta Expo in 1997, the Dutch architect Lars Spuybroek experimented with the perception of instability. There is no horizontal surface in the pavilion; floors, composed of interconnected elliptical volumes, transform into walls and walls into ceilings, promoting a sense of fluidity and making people respond by falling, leaning, tilting and "experiencing the vector of one’s own weight, and becoming sensitized to the effects of gravity" (Schwartzman 63). Along the way, specially installed sensors detect the behaviour of the ‘walker’ and send signals to the system to contribute further to the agenda of imbalance and confusion by changing light, image projection, and sound.Figure 2: Lars Spuybroek, H2OExpo, 1994-1997. © NOX/ Lars Spuybroek. Philip Beesley’s Hylozoic Ground (2010) is also a responsive environment filled by a dense organic network of delicate illuminated acrylic tendrils that can extend out to touch the visitor, triggering an uncanny mixture of delight and discomfort. The motif of pulsating movement was inspired by fluctuations in coral reefs and recreated via the system of precise sensors and microprocessors. This reference to an unfamiliar and unpredictable natural environment, which often makes us feel cautious and ultra-attentive, is a reminder of our innate ability of proprioception (a deeply ingrained survival instinct) and its potential for a more nuanced, intimate, emphatic and bodily rooted communication. Figure 3: Philip Beesley, Hylozoic Ground, 2010. © Philip Beesley Architect Inc. Works of this kind stimulate awareness of both the environment and one's own response to it. Inviting participants to actively engage with the space, they evoke reactions of self-reflexivity, i.e. the self becomes the object of its own exploration and (potentially) transformation. Another strategy of revealing the processes of the "body without image" is through representing various kinds of bio-data, bodily affective reactions to certain stimuli. Biosignal monitoring technologies most often employed include EEG (Electroencephalogram), EMG (Electromyogram), GSR (Galvanic Skin Response), ECG (Electrocardiogram), HRV (Heart Rate Variability) and others. Previously available only in medical settings and research labs, many types of sensors (bio and environmental) now become increasingly available (bio-enabled products ranging from cardio watches—an instance of the "quantified self" trend—to brain wave-controlled video games). As the representatives of the DIY makers community put it: "By monitoring some phenomena (biofeedback) you can train yourself to modulate them, possibly improving your emotional state. Biosensing lets you interact more naturally with digital systems, creating cyborg-like extensions of your body that overcome disabilities or provide new abilities. You can also share your bio-signals, if you choose, to participate in new forms of communication" (Montgomery). What is it about these technologies besides understanding more accurately the unconscious and invisible signals? The critical question in relation to biofeedback data is about the adequacy of the transference of the initial signal, about the "new" brought by the medium, as well as the ontological status of the resulting representation. These data are reflections of something real, yet themselves have a different weight, also providing the ground for all sorts of simulative methods and creation of mixed realities. External representations, unlike internal, are often attributed a prosthetic nature that is treated as extensions of existing skills. Besides serving their direct purpose (for instance, maps give detailed picture of a distant location), these extensions provide certain psychological effects, such as disorientation, displacement, a shift in a sense of self and enhancement of the sense of presence. Artistic experiments with bio-data started in the 1960s most famously with employing the method of sonification. Among the pioneers were the composers Alvin Lucier, Richard Teitelbaum, David Rosenblum, Erkki Kurenemi, Pierre Henry, and others. Today's versions of biophysical performance may include not only acoustic, but also visual interpretation, as well as subtle narrative scenarios. An example can be Marco Donnarumma's Hypo Chrysos, a piece that translates visceral strain in sound and moving images. The title refers to the type of a punishing trial in one of the circles of hell in Dante's Divine Comedy: the eternal task of carrying heavy rocks is imitated by the artist-performer, while the audience can feel the bodily tension enhanced by sound and imagery. The state of the inner body is, thus, amplified, or augmented. The sense of proprioception experienced by the performer is translated into media perceivable by others. In this externalized form it can also be shared, i.e. released into a space of inter-subjectivity, where it receives other, collective qualities and is not perceived negatively, in terms of pressure. Figure 4: Marco Donnarumma, Hypo Chrysos, 2011. © Marco Donnarumma. Another example can be an installation Telephone Rewired by the artist-neuroscientist Sean Montgomery. Brainwave signals are measured from each visitor upon the entrance to the installation site. These individual data then become part of the collective archive of the brainwaves of all the participants. In the second room, the viewer is engulfed by pulsing light and sound that mimic endogenous brain waveforms of the previous viewers. As in the experience of Donnarumma's performance, this process encourages tuning in to the inner state of the other and finding resonating states in one's own body. It becomes a tool for self-exploration, self-knowledge, and self-control, as well as for developing skills of collective being, of shared body-mind topologies. Synchronization of mental and bodily states of multiple people serves here a broader and deeper goal of training collaborative and empathic abilities. An immersive experience, it triggers deep embodied neural circuits, reaching towards the most authentic reactions not mediated by conscious procedures and judgment. Figure 5: Sean Montgomery, Telephone Rewired, 2013. © Sean Montgomery. Conclusion The potential of biofeedback as a strategy for art projects is a rich area that artists have only begun to explore. The layer of the imaginary and the fictional (which makes art special and different from, for instance, science) can add a critical dimension to understanding the processes of augmentation and mediation. As the described examples demonstrate, art is an investigative journey that can be engaging, surprising, and awakening towards the more subtle and acute forms of thinking and feeling. This astuteness and percipience are especially needed as media and technologies penetrate and affect our very abilities to apprehend reality. We need new tools to make independent and individual judgment. The sense of proprioception establishes a productive challenge not only for science, but also for the arts, inviting a search for new mechanisms of representing the un-presentable and making shareable and communicable what is, by definition, individual, fluid, and ungraspable. Collaborative cognition emerging from the augmentation of proprioception that is enabled by biofeedback technologies holds distinct promise for exploration of not only subjective, but also inter-subjective states and aesthetic strategies of inducing them. References Beesley, Philip. Hylozoic Ground. 2010. Venice Biennale, Venice. Clark, Andy, and David J. Chalmers. “The Extended Mind.” Analysis 58.1 (1998):7-19. Donnarumma, Marco. Hypo Chrysos: Action Art for Vexed Body and Biophysical Media. 2011. Xth Sense Biosensing Wearable Technology. MADATAC Festival, Madrid. Eliasson, Olafur. Take Your Time, 2008. P.S.1 Contemporary Art Centre; Museum of Modern Art, New York. Grau, Oliver. Virtual Art: From Illusion to Immersion. Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press, 2003. Massumi, Brian. Parables of the Virtual: Movement, Affect, Sensation. Durham: Duke University Press, 2002. Montero, Barbara. "Proprioception as an Aesthetic Sense." Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism 64.2 (2006): 231-242. Montgomery, Sean, and Ira Laefsky. "Biosensing: Track Your Body's Signals and Brain Waves and Use Them to Control Things." Make 26. 1 Oct. 2013 ‹http://www.make-digital.com/make/vol26?pg=104#pg104›. Sacks, Oliver. "The Disembodied Lady". The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat and Other Clinical Tales. Philippines: Summit Books, 1985. Schwartzman, Madeline, See Yourself Sensing. Redefining Human Perception. London: Black Dog Publishing, 2011. Spuybroek, Lars. Waterland. 1994-1997. H2O Expo, Zeeland, NL.