Penal Strokes

A figure standing before a large field of ruled strokes on a studio wall, his shadow thrown across it — *Penal Strokes*, 2018 — the gesture, repeated as long as the body could stand it. Courtesy of the artist

Year: 2018
Robot: A Mirobot — a wooden body on wheels and servomotors, running the artist’s gesture in firmware
Performed: FLIGHT MODE, the annual PhD research exhibition, Royal College of Art

If all other projects have specific places in the research, Penal Strokes articulates its places as the entire thesis’s process and methodology. Inspired by Sol Lewitt’s rule-based paintings, the artist decided to devise a performative gesture, repeated ad nauseam, as long as the body could stand to perform it, indulging in some form of absurd justification of the self-punishment, reverberating with Kafka’s short story In the Penal Colony. Just like algorithmic explorations, the new method is first explored in the known environment to assess it and compare it to the known behaviour of other models in the same environment. Penal Strokes started in the artist’s studio in late night hours.

After the first enthusiasm for the repetitive performative gesture disappeared, the artist, as a coder, decided to use the algorithm in its first definition as a shortcut and program a robot to mime the performative gesture, outsourcing the punishment to the machine. Developed and tested in the clean environment of the computer screen, the algorithm performed as expected, waiting to be transferred to the robot’s firmware. After the transfer, the robot was equipped to move. However, its behaviour did not in any way resemble the peaceful and deliberate strokes of the artist.

The robot at work, 10 June 2018 — nothing like the peaceful, deliberate strokes it was given. Courtesy of the artist

Situated in the real environment and embodied in a wooden body with wheels and servomotors, the algorithm was deterministically (blindly) executing the exact instructions with drastically different results in each iteration. Its frantic moves and speed resembled someone wanting to finish their task as soon as possible regardless of the results rather than patiently bearing their atonement.

A sheet covered in dense scratchy black strokes made by the robot, the marks clustered and overrun — One of the robot's drawings. Courtesy of the artist

While the algorithm did not “learn” anything, its algorithmic articulation revealed three things. First, it showed the importance of situatedness and embodiment of algorithmic agents in physical environments. Second, it taught the artist the importance of exploring various environments and their intrinsic restrictions. This realisation triggered the inclusion of adverse environmental conditions during the execution, another process in the performative gesture execution, yielding radically different results and revealing the change of the environment in the drawing.

The artist at night in front of a glass wall, jumping to reach the top of a sheet mounted high — Reaching the top of the sheet — an environment that had to be jumped at. Courtesy of the artist

Two sheets side by side, one ruled in rows of small strokes, the other in loose blots — Two environments, two hands. Courtesy of the artist

Third, it showed the importance of understanding the inner workings of algorithms. While an observer of the robot’s “behaviour” might have assumed that it was programmed to “behave” frantically, the articulation was devoid of any intention, creativity or will. The drawings were a product of material conditions and forces in the encounter with translating algorithmic code into mechanical movements. The performances of the robot and the artists continued taking place at the same time during various exhibitions. At the opening of FLIGHT MODE, the annual PhD research exhibition of the Royal College of Art, the robot was performing its "dance":

Seen from above: a framed sheet on a concrete floor with the small wheeled robot at work on it, a visitor crouching alongside — The robot performing its dance at the opening of FLIGHT MODE, Royal College of Art. Courtesy of the artist

And during the performance programm the artist was exploring another "adverse" environment with his eyes bound, through the consequent performance of the gesture. While performing, one of the kids, while watching the performance, recognised the "adversity" of the situation and asked his dad: "He can't see anything. Shouldn't we help him with the drawing?":

A gallery room with visitors and children watching the artist kneeling over framed sheets laid on the floor — The performance in the gallery — the child in the red cap is the one who asked. Courtesy of the artist

The artist kneeling close over a sheet, drawing by hand, a screen showing an eye behind him — At the sheet, mid-performance. Courtesy of the artist

The previous performance articulated a drastic change of the environment (the artist need not to jump anymore to perform the gesture) through the sudden regularity in the strokes. This performance foreground the importance of an agent's adaptibility to the unknown or adverse environment, and the exploitation of its aspects. The second line in the drawing exhibits a stronger horizontality than any other line. To draw this line, the artist used the frame of the drawing as a guide, immediatly adapting to the feature of the given environment:

A sheet carrying six loose rows of short strokes, the second row markedly straighter than the rest — The drawing from that performance — the second line runs straight because the frame was used as a guide. Courtesy of the artist