∆ 3 SYNTHESIS — 2nd Draft
I began with a simple experiment: one image assembling and dissolving pixel by pixel on a small screen, restaged across different media. I was asking whether the digital image could recover a sense of “originality” if it were given an ending, a final destination rather than endless circulation. This framed the image as a finite resource, in which permanence belongs to the origin and transience to the rendering. Soon, however, my interest shifted from making the image physical to defining how, and on what terms, it should end.
This shift was clarified through what I call obstructed physicality, by which I mean that the digital image is always material, yet its materiality is hidden from view. The philosopher Alessandro Sbordoni supports this, arguing that “representation is a principle that no longer explains the image and its technology away”: the image’s value now lies in its reproducibility, as it is converted into data that makes viewing quantifiable and extractable. Under these conditions, the gaze has been replaced by the stare: endless, habitual and centred on the device. The stare fragments attention, makes images interchangeable and turns viewing itself into data. The gaze restores what the stare removes: an encounter, room for interpretation and a relationship with the image. I therefore asked what conditions an image could set so that it is encountered rather than consumed. Reversing each quality of the stare gave me five counter-conditions (finitude, friction, unmeasurability, situatedness and reciprocity), which I tested through physical computing.
These experiments culminated in the imagotchi (Δ1): a handheld device holding a single photograph, deleted from its owner’s phone, that loses resolution when neglected and stays whole only through care. The relationship is symbiotic: the image depends on the person’s attention, and the encounter gives back a slower, more deliberate way of looking.
Writing on artist and writer Hito Steyerl’s “In Defense of the Poor Image” (2009) (Δ2) exposed a tension I had not considered. By treating resolution as the measure of the image’s health, the imagotchi reproduces the class hierarchy of images that Steyerl critiques: rich in resolution and singular in quantity, it risks becoming a luxury object, defined by scarcity rather than care. Yet her later essay “Mean Images” (2023) shows how the circulation she once defended now feeds the extractive economies of AI.
Artist Trevor Paglen’s “Invisible Images” (2016) extends this: images are increasingly made for machines, optimised to be quantifiable and transparent enough to enter the dataset. Read together, these texts clarify the shared logic of my practice: replacing machinic efficiency with human effort. When an image is incomplete, the effort is imaginative, as the viewer fills in what is missing. In the imagotchi, it is physical and temporal: the image resolves only when someone holds it and stays with it. Both enact what Paglen calls “deliberate inefficiencies”.
Triangulated, these projects reinforce my commitment to attention, situatedness and care, while untangling care from ownership, and loss from death. Withdrawing a private image from circulation may protect it from extraction, but it may equally produce the rich image in a new form. This leaves me with a sharper question to carry forward: in a culture of hyperconnectivity and constant production, can an image move the viewer from stare to gaze while embracing, rather than resisting, its condition as a poor image? And can such care be shared without relying on circulation?