Category: Art in Second Life

Currently open (for a while longer at least, having formally opened in mid-November!) at the ground level gallery NovaOwl, operated and curated by ULi Jansma, Ceakay Ballyhoo & Owl Dragonash, is a small exhibition of Second Life photographic art by Lisa Dartmouth entitled See Through My Eyes.

The collection presents a baker’s dozen of images Lisa has put together, representing twelve of the places she has visited during her journeys through Second Life. For those – like myself – who are fellow travellers / explorers, these are places instantly recognisable by name, being some of the most enduring and photogenic spots in-world, popular for both their appearance and the fact that those responsible for them remain every willing to re-invent them and provide new visions and imaginings to be explored and appreciated, or for bring the beauty of the physical world to SL.

Thus, among this selection we can find Panjin with it brilliant “ref beach” growths of Suaeda salsa (see here for more), Whimberley, Grauland, Bella’s Lullaby, 80 Days (in its Wild West iteration, Wind River) and Elvion (featured twice in the exhibition), all of which have appeared in these pages multiple times over the years, thus imbuing for me, a real sense of attachment / recognition with Lisa’s  work.

The displayed images are beautifully framed and cropped, with a lightness of post-processing to allow the natural beauty of the regions they represent to show through. Each one is also gently personalised by Lisa through the appearance of her avatar making her way through each location, generally (but not exclusively) on horseback. Further depth of touch is given to several of the images through the inclusion of 3D elements which help extend their presence into the gallery: a grass-tufted dune with feeding Avocets flowing outwards from the sandy expanse of Arum; a growth of yellow nanohana watched over by a scarecrow drawing the eye to the fields of rapeseed at Whimberley; a tall lighthouse sitting between coastal shots of Bella’s Lullaby and Fall @ Florence, and so on.

All of which makes See Through My Eyes both a personal personal retrospective by the artists and a veritable catalogue of reasons why exploring Second life can be so rewarding for the virtual traveller.

SLurl Details

• Lisa Dartmouth at NovaOwl (Novatron, rated General)

Currently mid-way through its November / December 2023 run at the Kondor Art Garden, a part of the Kondor Art Centre operated and curated by Hermes Kondor, is Carousels, a collection of animated art pieces by photographer-artist Lalie Sorbet.

The exhibition comprises some 20 animated mobiles, each one richly organic in form, and all of them floating serenely along the gravel paths circling the gardens. Each piece is formed from two elements, each bearing an image which has been set to rotate gently, one element moving clockwise and the other counter-clockwise.

Some have their parts rotating more-or-less at the same speed, others have their parts rotating at different speeds to one another; thus the sense of life and vitality is deftly imbued. But no liner notes from the artist are provided, so how we might interpret them is a matter between the eyes and the imagination of the beholder. Might they be exotic plants caught on a cushion of air? Otherworldly life-forms drifting through the gardens on an examination of their own? Objects from the sea-s depths brought forth upon the land? Something else? That is entirely for you to decide as you visit.

What is evident within all of the pieces is the manner in which each of them appears both tactile and delicate. On the one hand, they seem to dare us to reach out and feel the touch of what might be a veined leaf or a ripple of hair-like fibres or a gossamer-thin sphere of silk as it slides across finger tips. On the other, there is a countering sense as to what just the lightest of caresses might do to these exquisite forms of light and colour were we to try and touch them; would they respond open and positively responsive to our fingertips, or might they recoil, contract and deny us further revelations as to their form and nature?

I also found myself wondering as to their creation; were they the result of a digital freestyle approach by the artist, or might they be a continuation of her explorations in using AI software to create their component forms prior to being brought together by eye and script to gain life? This is perhaps not important in the overall scheme of things – Carousel stands “as is” as an engaging and visual collection of pieces – but having recently witnessed Lalie’s work with AI tools (see: Art, AI and Totems in Second Life), I cannot help but wonder if if Carousels is a further aspect of her use of AI as a means to extend her natural artistry.

Vital, rich in colour, subtle in form  – and perhaps carrying a hint of the hypnotic through the motion mere still images cannot convey – Carousels is a relaxing and engaging exhibition of animated art, with pieces available for purchase by those who would like to have a piece at home – floating in the garden, perhaps, as a peregrine visitor to their own garden.

SLurl Details

• Kondor Art Garden (Royal Tea, rated Adult)

This will be the second of two recent art reviews in these pages presenting a joint coverage of art exhibitions running through November / December 2023, although unlike my last (see: Artistic reflections on the human form and intimacy in Second Life), they are not connected by some subjective and potentially nebulous cooked up in side my little noggin; this time they are very much jointed at the hip, because by the same artist and encapsulating the same core theme. Coincidentally, one of these exhibitions is also taking place at Nitroglobus Roof Gallery, curated by Dido Haas, which was also the location for one of the two exhibitions reported on in the above-linked review.

The artist in question is Melusina Parkin, and the exhibitions are Silent Shores and Silent Landscapes, with the former presented within the main hall at Nitroglobus, and the latter within Melu’s own gallery space. In terms of total number of images, the larger of the two is Silent Landscapes, offering a total of 48 images, whilst Silent Shores presents 16 pieces in what might be called a subset of some of those found at Meulsina’s Place, but offered in a much large format, allowing us to be drawn more deeply into them.

Given they are connected, I’m going to cover both exhibitions as if they were a single whole; however, were I pushed pushed to give a suggestion as to the order in which they should be viewed, I would recommend visiting Silent Landscapes first. It is here that the complete collection can be seen together with Melu’s own thoughts on how the collection came into being. Silent Shores, with its use of large format images, then allows for that deeper sense of engagement mentioned above.

I’ve oft commented on Melu’s work in these pages, particularly noting her use of tight focus and angles within her photographs to concentrate the eye and mind on a specific item or element within an image, thereby limiting our frame of reference whilst simultaneously opening the image up in a manner which springboards the imagination into framing its own narrative around the piece, rather than restricting us to interpreting the story the artist wished to convey. It’s a technique I much admire, inviting as it generally does the mind to take free flight.

Here, Melu does much the same in terms of allow her audience to view each piece and formulate a narrative around it, if they so wish. However, in terms of style, she uses a reverse approach, pulling the camera back, as it were, from her more usual tight focus and closed angles to offer us – quite literally- broad horizons into which landscapes and costal settings flow and fade. Thus, we are presented with images with the suggestion of the infinite  – and yet which are intimate and personal thanks to her use of soft tones, horizon haze and a deep sense of depth present within piece.

This sense of intimacy-without-open-spaces wraps within it a subtle yet deep sense of solitude enhanced by the fact that nary an image offers so much as a bird is the sky or creature on the ground. Even the man-made objects apparent in some of the pieces come across as natural elements within each setting, rather than something interjected into it.

The result of this is that each piece draws us into it in a very personal way; these are not images of places unknown, this are places reflective of mood and feeling; they exude a silence we all, at times, desire or have felt; times when Nature allows us to be true to ourselves in thought, and where we can accept the feelings we might otherwise repress – or at least lose in the daily hubbub of life. In this, silence can be a deep and calming friend.

Given this, these are also images that carry something personal to Melusina, as she notes in her introduction to Silent Landscapes whilst also noting the power of silence itself:

Silence isn’t only a matter of hearing; it can be depicted by an image. Lonely landscapes, fuzzy or faint images suggest [a] lack of noises or voices. Silence is absence; absence is peaceful, but can also be sad.  I shot and collected dozens of images of solitary landscapes that show silences; their slight sadness and their relaxing mood match the inspiration of many of the thousands [of] photos I took in many years of SL Photography. So, I consider these pictures as a summary of the deepest feelings I wanted to express in my work. 

– Melusina Parkin, Silent Landscapes

Melusina Parkin: Secret Shores, Nitroglobus Roof Gallery, November 2023Which, at the end of the day, is really what needed to be said. Evocative, personal – to those viewing them and to the artist, albeit in a myriad of different ways as they speak to each of us – Silent Landscapes and Silent Shores form an engaging and slime collection of SL photographic art which can speak to all who witness them.

SLurl Details

• Melusina’s Place (Lunula, rated Moderate)
• Nitroglobus Roof Gallery (Sunshine Homestead, rated Moderate)