Tag: Nitroglobus

Art exhibitions at Nitroglobus Roof Gallery, operated and curated by Dido Haas, are – as I’ve frequently mentioned in these pages – among the best in Second Life in terms of visual content, theme, richness of expression and the challenges Dido tends to offer the artists invited to exhibit at her gallery. However, there are times when the artist appearing at the gallery has a reputation for offering thematic art intended to to provoke the grey matter into cogitation without any prompting from Dido.

One such artist is Bamboo Barnes. To me, she is one of the most vibrant and emotive artists in Second Life. She is also one of the most unique in terms of content and in the manner in which she mixes digital techniques, blending images captured in SL wand via digital means, her use of vibrant colours and abstracted overlays. In doing so, her art is always marvellously expressive, reflecting her inner thoughts, feeling and perceptions, whilst also being strongly assertive in its own right. This latter aspect additionally allows individual pieces speak directly to the observer, both in terms of the over-arching theme of an exhibition, and as pieces standing in their own right.

Such is the case with The Shape of the Whirlwind, Bamboo’s latest exhibition (at the time of writing!) to be hosted by Dido at Nitroglobus. However, there is a further unique twist (or two) about this exhibition. The first is that it is – if my memory is not failing me (which is entirely possible!) – this is the first exhibition to span both halls of the gallery, both the main hall and the Annex.

The other element of uniqueness with this exhibition is that I’m not going to wibble on about it here, as is usually my wont. This is because Bamboo has provided an excellent introduction to both The Shape of the Whirlwind and the thought processes that brought her to create the pieces displayed and which are reflected through the pieces. I think her own words introduce the exhibition in such a way that any exposition / interpretation on my part would be little more than a distraction. So, I’ll let Bamboo speak for herself.

I have never been inside a vortex, but I wonder what the distortion of the world would look like when being able to see from the inside.

The concept of a vortex—something that twists and distorts the flow of reality—becomes a metaphor for the hidden, often imperceptible forces that shape our lives and selves. Inside a vortex, the world would bend and stretch, the familiar becoming strange, as if time itself were folding in on itself. The distortion of sight would be overwhelming, pulling you into a realm where what you think you know, what you think you see, slips away from your grasp, much like memories that fade or shift when you try to grasp them.

– Bamboo Barnes on The Shape of the Whirlwind

Rising just a little against gravity, you might glimpse what is hidden—perhaps the edges of your own consciousness, which you usually only sense in fragments. And yes, memories, while they seem solid, can distort the truth, shaping how we see the world around us. The tension between the unseen forces and our struggle to maintain our sense of self would feel like a constant, gentle pull, drawing us into something greater than our understanding, yet more familiar than we’d like to admit.

At least remembering something, someone—however fleeting—might be a tether to a time before the vortex, a trace of what we were, or what we might still become. What do you think? What is it that you’re trying to remember or hold onto through this?

– Bamboo Barnes on The Shape of the Whirlwind

A genuinely rich and engaging exhibition given added depth through the use of animated elements (sometimes directly, sometimes as additional overlays) which mirror the twisting tumbling nature of thoughts and emotions are they surround us, and further supported as well as 3D elements by Bamboo and pieces by other artists placed within the gallery space by Dido, The Shape of the Whirlwind should seen and appreciated.

SLurl Details

• Nitroglobus Roof Gallery (Sunshine Homestead, rated Moderate)

Smartphones / mobile devices and social media – boon or bane? On the one hand there can be no doubt the ‘phone we carry in purse, pocket or holstered to hip or dangling from wrist strap can be a really positive thing to have. It allows us to stay connected – be it with each other or the world at large and the “news”; we can use it to capture precious (or embarrassing!) moment as a picture or video; it can be a life-saver and / or health aide in multiple ways, and so on.

On the other there are the ways it keeps us “connected”. All too often this means “convenient” texts rather than actual conversations, or seeking exchanges with people across town – or in a completely different town (and / or country) rather than those sitting in the same room as us; they set us on ultimately pointless hunts of “followers”, “likes”, “emojis” – even the temporary “thrill” of diving into this or that app for the rush of a vapourware “reward”, and more.

Whether we like it or not, for all the “freedom” mobile devices and social media have given us – so too have they, in so many way, enslaved us; it’s no accident the terms doomscrolling and doomsurfing have entered many a lexicon: the increasingly reality is  that, whether we’re aware of it or not, the little screens in our hands are a form of addiction; and like all addictions, can be harmful more than helpful.  Worse, they have within them the power to alter our reality, large and small.

It is these points that are explored in the February 2025 exhibition at Nitroglobus Roof Gallery, operated and curated by Dido Haas. Presented as a visual essay, The Digital Maze by Christian Carter (XJustFriendX), encourages us to look anew at how we interact with our smartphones and the apps they put in front of us.

Some of the risks inherent in our digital dependence are obvious – far from opening broadening our horizons of thought, social media is increasingly a tool for limiting perspectives; we seek “like minds”, we slavish adhere to (aka “follow”) those who only express the same outlook, entrenching, rather than expanding views. Others are more subtle; just how much freedom do we have when we constantly feel the need to scroll, to tweet, to see how many “likes” our last comment generated – as if this is some kind of grand validation?

What does it say of intimacy – on all levels, from shared love through companionship to simple conversation – when rather than using the the full richness of expression found in voice, tone, expression and pause, we hide behind flat words thumb-tapped on a screen “because it’s more convenient”? What is happening to our social skills when it is considered acceptable to ignore those we are with – family at home, people at a party, friends at the restaurant dining table – in favour of those to whom we can type or because it simple allows us to escape the reality of personal engagement?

Through this series of quite magnificent pictures, each one balancing message with considered use of colour, image, framing and focus, Christian provides food for thought on all of the above – and far more. So much more, in fact, that I’ve honestly struggled with this article, because Christian’s images resonate so deeply with me (we appear to have similar thoughts and outlooks in this matter) that it has been hard for me to keep my own subjectivity in place, and instead allow The Digital Maze the freedom to talk in its own voice.

Which is why I’ve said enough here; go and see – and listen – for yourself.

SLurl Details

• Nitroglobus Roof Gallery (Sunshine Homestead, rated Moderate)

I think that you will all agree that we are living in most interesting times. I never remember myself a time in which our history was so full, in which day by day brought us new objects of interest, and, let me say also, new objects for anxiety. 

Joseph Chamberlain, during a speech in 1898

Some believe that the above quote is most likely the root for that hoary old “Chinese curse” may you live in interesting times – the “interesting” being an ironic metaphor for “times of trouble”. This is quite possibly apocryphal, given there is no similar curse in Chinese; however, Chamberlain’s original words have never really ceased to have meaning in the 116 years since they were first uttered.

Indeed, given the state of play in the modern world: wars, invasions, authoritarianism rearing its head even here in the west, pseudo-Christian nationalism, the open “othering” – or alienating – anyone daring to go against the perceived political doctrine. Perhaps more particularly, we are living in an age which is, more than ever before, being shaped by the second part of Chamberlain’s 1898 statement: we are faced with new objects of interest, which are increasingly new objects for anxiety, due to the way they have been used to amplify misinformation, divisiveness, false nationalistic pride and that over-arching alienation of differing values / belief systems / viewpoints.

In this, two of the most obvious objects of anxiety being used today are social media and AI. With its global reach and ease of availability, coupled with the relative ease with which it can be manipulated both directly (fiddling with the underlying algorithms) and indirectly (flooding with bots), social media is perhaps the most manipulated channel of mass consumption in the world today; whilst with its shallow artistic derivativeness and raping of genuine art, AI has become a primary means of reinforcing falsities through visual manipulation whilst corroding objective creativity.

It is thought like these which have been foundational to Alienated, an exhibition of art by Adwehe, which forms the final exhibition for 2024 in the main hall at Nitroglobus Roof Gallery, curated and operated by Dido Haas.

A multi-faceted expressionist artist working in 2D, 3D lighting, colour and sound, Adwehe uses Alienated to understand two intertwined ideas: the aforementioned ways in which tools such as social media are being used exploitatively for the benefit of a few and the detriment of the many; and her own entirely natural unease at the way tools such as AI all too often stifle genuine creativity and alienating us from genuine originality by presenting us with shortcuts to an end result by way of derivative re-use of elements and ideas appropriated by copying any and all digital images in the world.

The way in which she does so is through both artistic counterpoint and revelation through words. The images presented through Alienated are in no way dark or foreboding as one might expect from my statements above; nor are they laden with excessive narrative. Instead, they are rich in colour and free-flowing originality. As such, they speak out against the demands of black-and-white uniformity of thinking (where even grey edges of thinking are not permitted) and speak to the beauty of genuine creativity and artistic thinking AI simply cannot replicate – but all too often can smoother.

At the same time, the words of the accompanying text speak to the love / hate relationship which can evolve around such apps and tools. On the one hand there is promise of new worlds of information, engaging potential for expression and exploration of technique and abilities; on the other there is the fear of the unknown and the anxiety of having to “start over” when faced with a new tool and library of content, leading to a sense of self-alienation with one’s own creativity.

Thus, the text adds a further layer of meaning and insight / interpretation to Alienated, marking it as a multi-layered collection of images which are engaging both individually and within the overall context of the exhibition.

SLurl Details

• Nitroglobus Roof Gallery (Sunshine Homestead, rated Moderate)

Four years ago to the month, Dido Haas invited me to visit a new exhibition at her Nitroglobus Roof Gallery. Entitled Camouflage, it was a double first for the gallery: the first time art produced outside of Second Life had been displayed at the gallery, and it was the first Second Life exhibition by an artist known in-world as Traci Ultsch.

It was an exhibition which immediately captivated me, as I noted in Camouflage and questions in Second Life. The style of the art was visually engaging to the point of exhibiting a sense of being tactile, whilst the questions within them served to encourage us to both peel away the layers present within the images to bring forth thoughts on both the artist’s own introspections and on the relationship between our virtual and physical identities.

Since that time, Traci has exhibited her work across Second Life, and I’ve frequently covered her work in these pages. I’ve continued to be fascinated by her work, both in the manner in which it has evolved, and for the depth of expression and interpretation it contains. Her art has always been deeply personal, reflecting thoughts on life, the impermanent nature of all things, and the importance of capturing of moments in time.

Traci is now back at Nitroglobus for November / December 2024, where she is exhibiting what might be her last exhibition of art in SL, CTL ALT Delete, within the gallery’s Annex. And one again it combines many of the elements noted above as it explores matters of inspiration, procrastination, fragmentation of thinking, the desire to create – and the confluence of these opposing streams which leads to the creative drive to stall, turning it from what should itself flow through a process to become a struggle to move from half-formed, shadows of ideas to what might be called a finished piece without simply cancelling it (hence CTL ALT Delete).

Framing the exhibit, Traci uses a quote by Philip Larkin, variously called England’s most miserable genius, the voice of post-war England (and more besides!):

I dreamt of a beach, of the sun in my eyes and your hands in mine. Instead I still just see these dark fucking trees.

It’s an ideal quote in terms of CTL ALT Delete, in that it both reflects the blocks that come between desire – be it in wishing for visions of love and warmth or in the desire to create – only to become mired in darker moods / feelings; and in the way we use trees to express our inability to see something clearly because the details get in the way: I can’t see the woods for the trees –  which can so often be the case when it comes to creativity, be it in art, writing, music, or whatever.

Trees also feature in the first elements of CTL ALT Delete, which offered an enumerated passage through its images, starting to the immediate right of the entrance tunnel  connecting the Annex with the main gallery when you arrive at the landing point in The Annex. Their use, against an overcast / foggy sky serve to lead us into the ideas contained within the images, expressed through fragments of thought given as text; fragments which demonstrate how the creative process can be interrupted and distracted. These continue through the rest of the series, becoming less and less coherent as the images themselves also become less and less coherent, underscoring, as Traci notes, the essential role of both within the exhibition:

The absence of a defined subject becomes the subject itself … The images and text invite viewers to witness the act of this failing creative endeavour as a dialogue between presence and absence, construction and deconstruction … In embracing this state, the works magnify the struggle to make something out of nothing.

– Traci Ultsch

A fascinating exhibition, one I hope will not be Traci’s last in Second Life, even if there is a pause between this and the next.

SLurl Details

• Nitroglobus Roof Gallery (Sunshine Homestead, rated: Moderate)

In March 2014, Dido Haas hosted a joint exhibition by Sina Souza and Sabbian Paine entitled The Masks We Wear, at Nitroglobus Gallery. It formed an exploration of the fact that whether we are aware of it or not, we all wear masks / adopt personas on a daily basis throughout our lives in respect of the people with whom we interact and the places in which we engage with them.

To be honest, I thought I had covered that exhibition in these pages, but alas, my memory is playing tricks on me and it appears not; matters of self, identify and the pressure of society are subjects I find fascinating. Fortunately, that exhibition was celebrated in film and can be found on You Tube.

Also fortunately, and a decade on from The Masks We Wear, Sina and Sabbian have again returned to Nitroglobus Roof Gallery to present a continuance to their original exhibition; one that can be explored and appreciated regardless as to whether or not we saw or remember The Masks We Wear. This is because the new exhibition, which runs through October 2024 and is entitled The Faces We Have Lost, looks at the subject matter through a slightly different lens, as Sina and Sabbian explain in their introduction:

While people still wear masks every day to protect themselves, to hide, to achieve advantages or to slip into another form of existence [as explored through The Masks we Wear], they also lose parts of their real face in the form of innocence, happiness or the freedom, to be the person, who they really are. At a certain point in life we ​​may be more the mask than the real face or the mask has become a face. The question which [then] arises is ‘what is the mask and what is the face?’

– Sina Souza and Sabbian Paine, The Faces We Have Lost

Thus, across the two halls of the gallery, Sina and Sabbian individually and jointly explore the concept of the blurring of true self and projected self (“masks”) and, to my eyes at least, on how society has sought to constrict us through the expectation that is is the mask and not the true self we are expected to wear at all times. In this they are both uniquely and jointly gifted through their ability to use metaphor, surrealism, abstraction and colour to present images that resonate in meaning.

These are pieces which beautifully encapsulate how the use of masks to hide ourselves can be as harmful as it can be – as Wilde observed in The Critic as Artist; A dialogue Part 2 – liberating, largely thanks to the demands of society. So it is that within this exhibition might be found reflections of having to hide personal feelings – hurt, sorrow, loneliness – behind a smile, a quip, and assumed jollity to the point when even when we are in a position to take of the mask, we no longer can; the clown persists, the tears lost, the body as faded and blackened as the moods that grip us.

These are very visual essays on matters with which the vast majority of us will recognise; that no matter what our fears and anxieties must be, society demands we always look and appear “normal”, and that giving vent to those fears – by they of flying or simply another day at the office – is “wrong” and “unnatural”, thus leading us to a point where even when alone, it is the anxieties that replace the mask, becoming us, suppressing who we might once have been – and thus we become numbed to the needs of others, our masks of indifference between defining aspects of who we are, rather than what lies behind them.

And if this sounds dark, perhaps it is; but The Faces We Have Lost is also positive in its message: by shining a light and encouraging us to ask questions about who he are and how we behave and that those around us might be feeling exactly what we are feeling, it might well encourage to be more empathic with ourselves and others.

SLurl Details

• Nitroglobus Roof Gallery (Sunshine Homestead, rated Moderate)

Frank Atisso makes a return to The Annex at Dido Haas’ Nitroglobus Roof Gallery for September  / October with Echoes of Illusion, a selection of bold – in a literal sense – images that offer a series of challenges to be considered; some of which are intentional on the part of the the artist – as he states as much in his own introduction to the exhibition – others of which, given the nature of the world in which we currently live might well not be entirely the artist’s intent, but which may nevertheless resonate with those viewing the pieces.

Frank explains Echoes of Illusion thus:

The images I created … reflect and amplify the deceptive nature of concepts like peace and freedom.

I chose the combination of black, white, and red as it best represents the stark contrasts and underlying truths of these dark themes, highlighting how illusions and false promises resonate and reverberate through society.

– Frank Atisso, introducing Echoes of Illusion

Thus on offer are nine very large images presented purely in red and/or black and/or white. Each one can be interpreted both directly and indirectly, and many carry the idea that contrary to the general (and mistaken) perception that white is akin to purity and goodness and black and red are so often associated more with anger, violence, darkness and death, as with many things in life, things are not so clear cut, and the purity of white can veil much that is itself harmful or hold harmful intent. Within them is also that broader commentary on the current state of society to which Frank alludes, and the increasingly pervasive dangers of false promises and the use of disinformation to blind people to realities that could so easily entrap them.

The best way to appreciate each image is to right-click it and view the title, and then allow it and the title to permeate your thoughts. In this way the core meaning of an image is readily identified, whilst the mind is free to consider it in light of the aforementioned boarder state of increasingly polarised (particularly western) societies: the echo chambers of social media; the aggravation of ill-conceived “injustices” as a means to foment anger and resentment under the guise of bringing hope, strength and security; the false realities of so-called wealthy “thought leaders” and their thirst for authoritarian control of those they seek to persuade and the reality that they care little for the welfare of those same followers, other than then heed the call and be ready to spread divisiveness and inflict chaos, no matter what the cost to themselves or their own rights.

It is because there is so much potential here, coupled with the fact that outside of Second Life I hold very particular views concerning those leading the extreme right and the realities of their words and deeds which has already potentially biased my commentary, that I do not want to inflict my own views further on this exhibition. Instead I urge you to go along and spend time within it and allow it to speak to you.

SLurl Details

• The Annex, Nitroglobus (Sunshine Homestead, rated Moderate)