georgieroxbysmith
Exquisite Corpse Dead Daddy
dead daddy
av•a•tar/ˈavəˌtär/
Noun:
A manifestation of a deity in bodily form on earth
An incarnation, embodiment, or manifestation of a person
In computing, an avatar is the graphical representation of the user
In exploring digital identity and desire, I began thinking about Second Life and the people who utilise the technology as being in some kind of perpetual movement away from death: a denial as such. In Second Life, there is no ageing, no rotting of the flesh. Secondarily there exists an eternal life in these new technologies – from forever live Facebook memorials frozen in time, the gravesites and dead celebrity avatars that still walk this virtual land and the pun of the program name itself. Despite this, every time I log out of Second Life my avatar dies – dissolution of pixels disappearing into the black – only to be reborn, unchanged, at the click of a button. When I die, or kill my Second Life, she will remain a cyber-ghost, forever condemned to the black. Thirdly, when using digital identities we are somehow detached, separated by the false sense of security the safety of the screen gives us.
After working with a number of deceased doppelganger avatars roaming Second Life, dead daddy brings the idea of resurrecting the dead into a more personal space. Commencing with an intimate 3D rebuild of my own dead father, I used my self-portrait avatar to recreate lived or dreamed experiences from my childhood alongside him. Like the avatars themselves though, these experiences were hollow – it was always me operating my father’s avatar, making him speak and move like some sad puppet. Humorous and horrific at once.
Merging rephotographed real life images and Second Life footage of my father’s avatar in a 21st Century ‘exquisite corpse’, this work plays on death, desire, memory, loss and the materiality of the body.
Exquisite Corpse Dead Daddy
dead daddy
av•a•tar/ˈavəˌtär/
Noun:
A manifestation of a deity in bodily form on earth
An incarnation, embodiment, or manifestation of a person
In computing, an avatar is the graphical representation of the user
In exploring digital identity and desire, I began thinking about Second Life and the people who utilise the technology as being in some kind of perpetual movement away from death: a denial as such. In Second Life, there is no ageing, no rotting of the flesh. Secondarily there exists an eternal life in these new technologies – from forever live Facebook memorials frozen in time, the gravesites and dead celebrity avatars that still walk this virtual land and the pun of the program name itself. Despite this, every time I log out of Second Life my avatar dies – dissolution of pixels disappearing into the black – only to be reborn, unchanged, at the click of a button. When I die, or kill my Second Life, she will remain a cyber-ghost, forever condemned to the black. Thirdly, when using digital identities we are somehow detached, separated by the false sense of security the safety of the screen gives us.
After working with a number of deceased doppelganger avatars roaming Second Life, dead daddy brings the idea of resurrecting the dead into a more personal space. Commencing with an intimate 3D rebuild of my own dead father, I used my self-portrait avatar to recreate lived or dreamed experiences from my childhood alongside him. Like the avatars themselves though, these experiences were hollow – it was always me operating my father’s avatar, making him speak and move like some sad puppet. Humorous and horrific at once.
Merging rephotographed real life images and Second Life footage of my father’s avatar in a 21st Century ‘exquisite corpse’, this work plays on death, desire, memory, loss and the materiality of the body.