Daniel Canogar: I believe my work strives to bridge the gap between traditional public spaces and the newly created public spaces in digital environments. And how they are not separate spheres but interconnected spaces that sometimes even oppose each other. An underlying theme in all my work is to analyse and investigate in what ways the digital space contaminates physical public space. There has been a lot of pressure to immerse our heads, our eyes, our souls into the internet. I am interested in the opposite process, how the internet changes our way of seeing, constructing, communicating, and relating in public space. My public art projects have that element of connection with the digital space and how it underlies our perception of public space. This is something that is very present in my philosophy, because I think that although the enthusiasm that there was at the beginning of the 90s with the internet space as a revolutionary and democratising place, of openness and communication and the whole utopian part of it. Now, it is highly questioned and overshadowed by many dangers and harms. It is not about denying the internet or denying the digital space, but rather trying to find a coexistence between the digital and the physical, and that is how I understand a significant part of my artistic work.

Personally, when I talk about the public sphere in physical space, I have the classical model of the Agora in mind, the Greek Agora, the meeting place of citizens, a space, a stage, created and funded by taxpayers, as a platform that is necessary for that community to have a sense of social cohesion, belonging to a collective communication, and exchange.

The digital space always tries to imitate that great invention. But for now, they are always imitations with limitations. For example, the corporate business aspect, who owns those spaces? Who controls the discourse? Who decides what is discussed? In addition to the basic physical experience of the human body in public spaces, my work explores the interactions between individuals, architecture, and the influence of architectural design on shaping specific types of dialogue. The physical and sensorial complexity offered by real public space or traditional public space is something that is currently not happening on the internet. There are systems that attempt to simulate it through virtual or augmented reality, but they have not yet achieved the richness that physical public space allows.

Above all, I believe that it is not about technologically improving the digital space to fulfil the functions of traditional public space, but more about bringing it out of the screen, out of the network, and out of the digital sphere into the physical sphere so that they can coexist and complement each other. Each can contribute different things and generate synergies. I think we are obviously very much in the first steps of this great digital revolution.

I envision the digital public sphere as a dynamic and theatrical realm, where events unfold and invite engagement, performance, and even moments of concealment. I believe there is an intriguing convergence between the theatrical space and the digital space, merging the traditional public sphere with the possibilities of the digital realm.

I imagine the digital space as a fertile ground for creativity and a catalyst for meaningful exchanges that transcend mere monetary transactions. In this envisioned realm, monetisation would be less exploitative compared to its current state in the digital realm.

Moreover, it would be vital for this virtual space to foster community ties, which I consider indispensable. Many aggressive and populist behaviours, as well as eccentric conspiracy theories that circulate and impact the social system, are linked to seclusion and a lack of real-world interactions. When one isolates oneself within one’s own bubble and relates exclusively to like-minded people, a feedback loop ensues that inhibits exposure to diverse perspectives. Perhaps we could imagine a different way of communicating, a more immersive and scenic experience that goes beyond a flat screen with two windows. I visualise it as a territory that has a lot to develop, but above all that has to activate more the human body as an entity.

Personally, I believe in inviting the citizen not to become a mere spectator, but an active participant in the creation and generation of that environment. I think there are very interesting examples where the digital space enriches the public space. One of them is my serie “Asalto”, which started as a critical reference to the tragedy of migrants jumping over fences in search of better living conditions, but then became an important form of performance and public participation, where everyone contributes something. I like this idea of creating a scenario where activities can take place that go beyond the traditional public space, such as crawling on the ground, or performing unconventional actions.

Furthermore, the Internet possesses immense potential for mobilisation and can swiftly unite individuals seeking to transform and redefine public space. It is crucial to acknowledge that these two dimensions -the digital realm and the physical environment- should not be perceived in isolation but rather as interconnected entities.

In short, I envision a digital public space inspired by the performing space, which invites active participation of citizens and fosters creativity and community. I believe that technology can play an important role in both digital space and in enhancing physical public spaces, generating a more playful relationship and promoting a more enriching experience.

I think my various works have served diverse purposes and functions. I hold a somewhat selfish perspective on my artwork, in the sense that I do it primarily to satisfy my own concerns and to better understand the world I live in. However, if it also helps others identify with the questions, dilemmas, and concerns expressed in the work, then that’s great!

In general, my artistic approach aligns with technological existentialism. I strive to comprehend our technologically mediated reality in order to process and understand it from a contemplative standpoint. Simultaneously, it is crucial for my work to evoke not only a contemplative state but also an altered, almost hypnotic attention that suspends the banality of the moment and the existential emptiness of everyday life. Although this experience can be isolating and alienating at times, my art creates a space where attention is transformed, enabling us to be fully present in the here and now. This mission lies at the core of my work and echoes the enduring purpose of art.

Art invites us to pay attention, to be present in front of a work and have a meaningful experience. Nowadays, it is difficult to maintain attention due to constant distractions, both internal and external. We are constantly distracted by the murmur of our inner selves and the omnipresence of our mobile phones, which have become portals to a myriad of messages and information that take us away from the present moment and prevent us from appreciating the wondrous richness of everyday experience.
To me, this may seem trivial, but it is of the utmost importance. I am happy when I am attentive to my reality, to my present moment, when I pay attention to the small details and have the ability to observe my surroundings. This is all related to technology, which can be excessive and hugely distracting with constant bombardment. However, this does not mean that we cannot use technology to our advantage. Sometimes I find inspiration and learn a lot from it. The problem lies in the excess and overload of information, which takes us away from that wonderful experience of being fully attentive.

Ultimately, I believe that the main mission of my work is to create a community of people who want to have more frequent experiences of mindfulness and connection.

I think this is a fundamental issue of culture, both visual and technological. In schools we should also learn to observe and understand the technological space and what lies behind it. In the case of “Pareidolia”, it focuses on fear, on the spectre of fear generated by social media and the world of news as a way of capturing our attention. I recently read a fascinating article in the New York Times that talked about how social media platforms can detect posts that incite violence or spread fake news, but they don’t have the ability to detect the fear or fear-generating messages that are precisely the force that hooks our attention and generates these harmful, anti-social behaviours.

In “Pareidolia,” I sought to capture the essence of our contemporary spectatorship by drawing inspiration from the fluid and evocative aesthetics of 19th-century phantasmagoria. I believe there is a certain phantasmagorical quality to our digital environment, and I aimed to explore our addiction to news and social media within that context. By delving into this relationship, I aimed to shed light on the impact of our constant engagement with these platforms and the allure they hold over us.

Personally, I consume a lot of news and have always been interested in it. However, lately news has been a real trauma for me due to the turbulent times of transition we are living through. Fortunately, art gives me the tool to process and digest the news, transforming it into a contemplative experience that invites us to reflect on our world. I hope that people who see my work can have these alternative experiences with the news and understand that we have the capacity not only to absorb the news, but also to respond to it in a critical and reflective way.

Collaborating with interdisciplinary teams and scientists has played a significant role in shaping my artistic practice. Within my studio, I value the diversity of expertise and perspectives that each member brings. However, when it comes to collaborating with institutions in the realm of public space, it can present its own set of challenges. In fact, I faced a particularly difficult situation with one of my major projects, a commission for JP Morgan in a public space. It turned into a nightmare when an issue arose with one of the subcontractors, leading to delays and even legal disputes. Working in the public space is a complex endeavour that demands resilience and the ability to navigate unforeseen obstacles. It shares similarities with the world of architecture, where architects must persevere in order to bring their projects to fruition, knowing that many factors are beyond their control.
Despite the difficulties, public space interests me a lot. In addition to the conceptual contact with a different public, there is also an economic dimension that involves working on a larger scale, in an urban environment, which can provide access to financial resources that would otherwise be difficult to obtain.

When it comes to fostering a sense of unity and community among artists, I strongly believe in the power of the concept of the tribe. It’s essential to connect with like-minded individuals who share our passions and ideas. Promoting transparency in the dynamics that govern the art world as a whole can be immensely beneficial. Currently, many of these dynamics remain concealed due to special interests and the fear of competition. There’s a prevailing notion that the pie is limited and must be divided among numerous individuals, making it challenging to access information on how to kickstart an artistic career, establish connections with curators, or achieve financial sustainability in our chosen path. That is why I am working on an artist’s survival workshop, a kind of coaching for artists, where I try to be as transparent as possible. I share my own experiences and learnings from more than 30 years in the artistic career, including the mistakes and difficulties that nobody warned me about. This knowledge not only seeks to bring economic viability to artistic activity, but also psychological viability. I believe in the importance of creating spaces for sharing and generating communities and collectives that form an ecosystem where we can develop our passions. This approach helps to demystify the figure of the artist and reveals the everyday reality of the creator.

In other professions, like being a lawyer or a doctor, there are clear stages and requirements. However, in the art world, the guidelines are more diffuse. We need to generate a strong professional identity and take pride in what we do.
It’s not just about vanity or superficial flattery, but about creating a space where we can exchange useful information for our community and enrich the artistic ecosystem. We need to foster a less competitive and more collaborative environment. This will help all artists to grow. Although we are still far from reaching that point, it is something we need to work on together.

You’ve brought up a complex issue, and I will be honest with you. In my perspective, I believe that art, while it can inspire and raise awareness, may not be the most effective space for generating direct social change on environmental, social, or political levels. There are other spheres, such as social activism or direct political involvement, that are often more effective in driving tangible transformation.

Art has a fundamental mission of providing a sense of community and connection. It offers a space where we can process, understand, and contemplate the world we live in, without always seeking pragmatic and immediate results. The art space is inherently speculative, complex, and contradictory, and it holds a freedom that is important to preserve.

While art can certainly address pressing issues, seeking real and tangible solutions requires a different approach. For instance, if the Venice Biennale addresses the problem of migrants, it raises awareness but does not directly solve the situation. Effective support and assistance on the ground are what the people working on the island of Lesbos, for example, truly need.

I acknowledge the complexity of this issue, and I don’t intend to diminish the value of artistic activity, which I consider to be fundamental. However, I believe that true solutions to societal challenges often lie beyond the realm of art alone.

I believe it’s essential to view artificial intelligence as part of a broader continuum of technological advancements that have shaped our world over the years. From the invention of transistors and microchips in the 1950s to the development of the internet and quantum computers, there is a larger context in which AI exists.

As an artist working with algorithms, I’m aware that access to artificial intelligence is prohibitively expensive. The creation of AI algorithms requires substantial financial resources, which poses a significant challenge for artists. In my own practice, I approach AI with experimentation, irony, and a grounded perspective. While recognising its power as a tool, it’s crucial to take the time to understand and digest its potential implications.

I think it is crucial that artists look for ways to experiment and explore within its possibilities, as they cannot develop their own algorithms. It’s crucial to shed light on the high cost of AI development, often overlooked in discussions. Behind the scenes, there are legions of programmers and engineers driving the technology. This is why I believe that the role of the creator must be subversive and approach artificial intelligence from a more alternative and unconventional perspective.

Jonathan Crary is my ultimate hero, and his book ‘Techniques of the Observer’ (MIT 1990) has had a profound impact on my life. His more recent writings, including ’24/7: Late Capitalism and the Ends of Sleep’ (Verso 2013), delve into the very themes we’ve been discussing today. I am in awe of his perceptive understanding of the dynamics that shape our world. Each time he releases new work, I find myself eagerly anticipating it. His profound insights into our environment and its impact on us make him a constant and influential presence in my artistic journey.