Connected life. With open arms
How social networks—and immersive worlds—invite us to reconsider what is obsolete or not. Reflections through the work of artist Hiromi Ozaki (Sputniko!).
Artist Hiromi Ozaki (better known as Sputniko!) is an unwavering source of inspiration to understand the evolution of social networks—and more broadly, the impact of digital technology on our identities.
A forward-thinking spirit, she declared in the early days of social networks that "if you have a dream that no one follows, then it's an empty dream." And that we would all be connected by invisible threads. In 2016, she released a film entitled "Red Silk of Fate - Tamaki's Crush," the story of a budding geneticist who creates a red silk thread to attract the love of her dreams. Hiromi Ozaki actually created this silk thread by genetically modifying it (it contains oxytocin) with Professor Hideki from the University of Tokyo. A reference to legends in Asia that speak of a mysterious red silk thread of destiny that connects two beings by the little finger. Obviously, genetic manipulation goes awry, and many creatures are born with strange powers.
The allegory is interesting because it also describes the context of liveness as a substance; the technological ability to connect with everyone operates in an environment that itself terribly influences the type of exchanges or conversations. To make this idea clearer: liveness propelled into social networks is very altered or conditioned by the rules of the platform game. For example, flirting through reactions to stories on Instagram (don't act innocent, I see you haha!) has become an entry point to connect with others. In digital love, as in war, leaving a message unread almost corresponds to a casus belli... in short, there are many examples that prove that functionalities encourage and shape part of the usage. And that word of mouth passes through algorithms with their own logics and agendas along the way.
Hiromi Ozaki's work also raises the question of what we decide to keep or discard in our connected lives, of what becomes obsolete or fundamental. The artist adapted her "Menstruation machine" to create a wearable called menstrualverse in Decentraland, a decentralized 3D virtual reality platform. The goal: to allow users to experience menstruation in these immersive worlds as well. This wearable was initially rejected by Decentraland because it went against the platform's principles. After many exchanges (go read the debate on the forum, it's fascinating), a version with blue liquid is approved. 2023: while even in advertisements we have stopped using blue flow to represent periods, it seems that technological avant-garde is showing surprising puritanism. This project is not anecdotal; as liveness takes on a growing role in our lives, the question of the physical autonomy of our representations arises, especially regarding our avatars. Here again, the question of platform governance, including how they interpret our bodies—and in a way, a part of our humanity—is set aside. Especially as these platforms copy our rhythms, which are already very real (on Animal Crossing, for example, once night falls, some stores close). A dangerous silencing that could lead to phenomena of somniphobia in immersive worlds. I love this paragraph from Junko Frantic:
"My corner of the bed is a narrow and cold space, populated by parasitic ideas. The more I try to clear my mind, the more images insidiously slip under my eyelids. Some bounce off each other, chaining together in apocalyptic arguments. Others just tease, tickle, where it hurts. Oppressed. And then, without me being able to express it clearly, there is always this vague irrational anxiety about dying during the night."
Junko Frantic
Vibration mode deactivated.