By Matt McDermott

In this interview, Sabrina Raaf explains her interest in technology and art while emphasizing conceptual expression as the determining factor behind the selection of any art media.

What do you mean by describing your work as “creative machines?”

Creative machines, at least in my rubric, are machines capable of generating unique and unpredictable manifestations of art - independent of people. They are also known as generative machines. If you look for it, you’ll find that the art world is being populated by more and more of such machines and systems – as well as the artists who make them. These systems can be viewed as art forms in and of themselves or as art forms capable of creating art forms (or both). In either case, they present a new type of creative potential in their exhibited state. While it’s true that any artwork has “potential” in that it may invoke many potential interpretations by audiences, creative machines differ in that they are systems capable of actively interpreting their own environment as well invoking the passive interpretations of viewers. They are active producers of content.

Practically speaking, each art system parses whatever data it is constructed to receive and, according to that data, adjusts its behavior to create artwork that is unique to those circumstances. As an artist, it is extraordinarily exciting to create a work that takes on a life of its own and creates things that are unexpected – even if you yourself hand-constructed the system bit by bit.

You began working with photography and digital imagery and continue to produce work in that medium. Does digital imagery allow for a kind of artistic exploration not easily achieved in your other work?

I’m going to side-step this question for a moment ... I began making art in my mid-twenties, which is relatively late – at least by gallery standards. It’s funny to say that starting anything in one’s mid-20s is late, but such is the perception today in so many pursuits like Olympic sports, stock analysis, etc. But, what was so important about this fact for me was that going into the arts – or, trying to “become” an artist – was a very conscious decision. I had a degree in political science and perhaps could have followed this interest towards a more lucrative career path. However, being an artist seemed to offer perhaps the greatest amount of freedom of thought, development, and vision - for the length of my life.

Granted, this was a bit naïve and, as in anything, one goes on to find that there are hidden limitations and logistical boundaries. However, most of the boundaries I see artists coming up against are the ones which they place around themselves – whether consciously or unconsciously. While an artist may feel some comfort in calling themselves a photographer or a sculptor – which is an easy label to spit out at cocktail parties and to print on business cards – that self-identification or self-categorization (or cozy box) can eventually limit what that artist feels they are capable of and thereby can really limit the development of their vision. Art is one of the last few professions where “specialization” is not an obligation coming down from above with juggernaut force – as in “do it or die.” So, I choose to actively avoid putting myself in a box – despite the convenience that might offer.

All this is a long-winded way of saying that I have a real aversion to addressing my work according to the media it was made with. Doing so only assists others in planting me in some sort of contemporary art geography – deeming me a member of this or that tribe which is known for using this or that tool. Yes, digital imaging does offer very valuable freedoms that other media cannot. If I could actually make someone levitate in space instead of fabricating an image of it, I would in a heartbeat. (Actually, there is some fascinating research going on about this that can be found at http://www.AmericanAntiGravity.com). For now, though, my compositing skills will have to do. Most importantly, whether I am working with photography or with electronics and installation, I’m working from the same personal source of ideas that continue to grow and expand and push my practice into new forms and spaces. It is this evolution that keeps me engaged.

How should a viewer understand your conception of artistic research as a central driver of your work? Is knowledge of your process important for the onlooker?

My working method for creating art is based in conceptual art practices. I work from an idea forward – choosing a media and form that would best crystallize that idea. I use the word “crystallize” specifically because – for me – a successful artwork should be: 1) relatively transparent (i.e., its meaning isn’t obscure); 2) it should be somewhat reflective (i.e., people can see themselves in it and therefore can identify with it); and 3) it should be multilayered so that if people contemplate it from different angles, then more meaning is generated.

I feel that this is an era where it is critical that art connect with viewers – outside of the group of viewers already working in art-related fields. Audiences interested in contemporary art are dwindling in numbers (although museum attendance does seem to be making some recovery) – and attendance numbers have never been historically strong in America. So, it is important to make art that people can appreciate without necessarily knowing about the methodologies or the politics behind the artist. Work created with contemporary media such as robotics, digital photography, 3D animation, etc., seems to speak to wider audiences due to their familiarity with these things from other popular cultures. Art made with traditional media can be a bit more intimidating for people who feel that they don’t know the history of art well enough to decipher it.

Is it accurate to say that the artistic machines you create are designed to be completed, or activated, as creative work by human interaction with them? If so, does this inherently and deliberately restrict your ability to encode meaning in your work?

Well… this really ends up being one of those “if a tree falls in a forest…” questions. On a philosophical level, I think you could pose the same question about any artwork. Does the viability (or completion) of the art depend on a viewer being present and appreciative? An artwork can be meaningful even if it is presented as a reproduction in a magazine, book, Web site, or catalog - which is how many people first get to know about contemporary works and their authors. Of course, this manifestation is not likely to be as moving and effective as the work would be if seen live. But, a work can still have significant social impact in documentation format.

To answer your question more directly, though, a lack of human presence doesn’t have to be a factor which restricts an artist’s ability to “encode meaning” in their interactive work - so long as this lack of presence is dealt with as also meaningful. An important function of my work, Translator II: Grower, is to record periods of time when there is no human interactivity or presence in the space. This is a piece that responds to the carbon dioxide levels in the air generated by human breath. It draws individual blades of grass along a wall in varying heights in accordance to the amount of carbon dioxide present. So, if people aren’t attending the art space, then the grass that my machine “grows” doesn’t thrive and this is very visible in its drawings. The Grower can thereby demonstrate to viewers/participants how much art institutions depend on their attendance to make them 'healthy' spaces for new art forms to evolve and flourish within.

Since you work with robotics and other forms of complex technology, do you think the technical mastery required leads to a different approach to art than in traditional photography or painting, for example? Has the analytical nature of the new media influenced the intellectual strain within your aesthetics?

This is also a difficult question to answer … Like many artists, I try to maintain a presence that is on the fringe of any mass cultural phenomenon I am studying. We do this so that we can have just enough perspective on it to be able to analyze, comment, and construct alternative interpretations of it that are uniquely our own - whether passionate or dispassionate. Technology (software and hardware) is not only a means or set of tools. It does also necessitate a type of logic-based thinking in order to use it and subvert it creatively. You really have to be a person who is innately fascinated by new technologies in order to be able to suffer through the learning curves and endless upgrades. But, ultimately, new technologies offer an endless string of more and more powerful and flexible tools to make art with. Even beyond that, they offer a new language to speak to viewers with; there are nouns, verbs, adjectives, etc., that artists haven’t ever strung together before in the service of art. And, that’s something really exciting.