Tag: Nitroglobus

Having opened on May 12th, 2025 for a (roughly) two-month run, Love is a Stranger is an evocative exhibition of black and white photography by – YO – (yoasa) being hosted by Dido Haas within the Annex of Nitroglobus Roof Gallery. Dido notes that the first time she came across YO’s work, she was immediately drawn to it, such was the emotive – almost physical  – strength with the images. Given this is also my first exposure to YO’s work, I can understand why she felt so drawn; working in monochrome brings a depth of raw humanity to their work, carrying within it a persistence of passion that is enthralling.

Colour brings joy to the eyes – but black & white reaches the heart.

Yo(asa)

The title of the the exhibition – which features eighteen marvellously composed and processed pieces – is taken from the song of the same name by Annie Lennox and Dave Stewart, aka Eurythmics, and which formed the opening track of their second album Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This). 

The lyrics, penned by Lennox, sought encapsulate the dichotomic relationship of love and hatred – so often two sides of the same coin – by putting opposites together, expressing how one can lift you up, lead you forward, whilst the other is just awaiting the opportunity to cut you down through doubt, confusion, and more; and where one can be so glamourous and appealing, with the other lurking just beneath with cruelty and unkindness; the promise of both, when taken together, equally rich and false.

To be honest, with one or two exceptions, I did not see many parallels between Lennox’s intent and the images YO presents – and if they are present, the failure to see them is purely mine, and not that of the artist. What I did find, however, are images that are simply breath-taking in their emotive depth and resonance; pieces beautifully focused and framed as an ode to the fickleness of love itself.

Each picture is a masterpiece of visual storytelling, conveying a richness of desire, loneliness, loss, need, innocence, uncertainty. These are all emotions common to love. We all want to be loved, to be in love, and feel the same in return: to feel wanted cherished, desired. Yet love itself is mercurial; even in the midst of all the the sense of fulfilment, of finding that desire and cherishment in the eyes and arms of another, so too can it all too easily give forth doubts, take away the comfort as easily as it provides. It can turn thoughts of certainty and contentment into those of incertitude, and feelings of warmth to those of uncertainty.

Thus, we become alone in thought and trapped contradictions, literally and figuratively wandering; driven, perhaps to feel the very world around us is alien or as if the feelings that at first lifted us, made us feel a part of something so easily turn to feel apart from everything; standing outside and looking in. We have discovered that love itself has turned from welcoming friend to a complete stranger.

All of this is conveyed within YO’s images, and quite powerfully and evocatively so. It is, in short: an absolutely exquisite collection.

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•  Love is a Stranger, The Annex at Nitroglobus (Sunshine Homestead, rated Moderate)

Drawn from the Latin, simulacrum (“likeness, semblance”) entered the language of European art during the late 1500s, when was originally used to refer to a painting or statue directly representing someone or something (most notably a god or deity). However, by the 19th century, it had come to express an artistic endeavour – notably an image – formed without the substance or qualities of the original (e.g. to use a more modern example: a photocopy of a photograph of a painting).

It is a term which is particularly relevant today thanks to the rapid rise of generative AI tools, and the manner in which they can be used to literally churn out prompt-based images over and over without any genuine artistic input or understanding of the actual desired request or the inconsistencies, anachronisms and outright errors present within the final product.

Of course, those using such tools diligently will argue that they are merely a tool; when balanced with a critical eye and the use of other tools to refine, enhance and correct, they can be used to produce richly diverse pieces that do have originality within them. This is actually not an unfair summation, as far as it goes.

The problem¹ here is that the vast majority of users of such generative tools don’t exercise skill or talent. They prompt, wait, publish, often using minor variations of the same prompt ad nauseam (“make the woman’s hair colour blue”) to produce a stream of near identical images (as all too often seen on the likes of Deviant Art). There is little originality within such pieces when compared one to the next; worse, there is little in the way of critical review, and those aforementioned errors are allowed to persist. Worse still, all this repetition (complete with errors) is fed back into the data pool, further diluting it and increasing the regurgitation of vacuous elements to form what amounts to self-perpetuating simulacrums, devoid of originality and talent.

This constant cycle of regurgitation and repetition without originality is explored by Manoji Yachvili (onceagain), in her exhibition Simulacrum, currently on display at Nitroglobus Roof Gallery, curated by Dido Haas. It is also very much a personal expression of Manoji’s own increasing sense of artistic loss and frustration as she sees creative expression, skill and progress within art and artistic experimentation vanishing in a rising tide of banality.

Reality no longer exists, it has disappeared, crumbled by the media and modern technologies that propose images that do not refer to reality, that receive meaning only from other images and that are perpetually regenerated, thus remaining increasingly disconnected from what was originally real. Everything I see has an appearance and the power of appearance, without a faithful external image and therefore devoid of the original vitality.

– Manoji Yachvili

To achieve this, Manoji presents a collection of original paintings that are richly expressive whilst clearly echoing the banality and emptiness of the kind all too easily spewed forth by generative AI. Through the use of simple, repeated elements – masks, faceless figures, and muted colours – she beautifully conveys the empty, expressionless redundancy so common within generative AI art.

Yes, these are all paintings utilising common themes elements – but each of them is completely original in form and presentation, allow it to stand on its own as a singular, unique piece carrying with it an ability to speak to each of us differently. Thus, these are pieces that reach beyond the artist, offering a richness of expression and meaning, standing not as the result of a collection of prompts, but as a prompt for our imaginations to take flight within them.

In doing so, Manoji establishes the genuine power of art through the hand, eye and talent originating from within the artist, making this a beautiful expressive collection, each piece standing in its own right as a genuine work of art.

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• Nitroglobus Roof Gallery (Sunshine Homestead, rated Moderate)

1. Please note that within this article, I’m intentionally avoiding issues of copyright and ownership in relations to the “training” of generative AI tools, because while these are clearly of concern generally, they are not the focus of the exhibition being reviewed.

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.

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• 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)