Meanwhile, architects are also determined to find their own digital
expression in housing these new forms of art--though at first they
were suggesting a near dissolution of the building. In 1989 Rem Koolhaas
won a competition to design the ambitious Zentrum für Kunst und Medientechnologie
(ZKM) in Karlsruhe, Germany, an institution encompassing a museum of contemporary
art and several ancillary divisions centered on the primary attraction,
a media museum. Eventually aborted in 1992 because of its staggering budget,
this plan was replaced by Hamburg firm Schweger + Partner's elegant
but far more conventional $85 million retrofit of a behemoth 1918 munitions
factory in 1997.
Koolhaas's proposal called for the construction of a transparent blue glass
cube that was to house a snaking system of ramps around a core of galleries.
Its transparency would have revealed the multimedia installations within
it as an electronic extravaganza, transforming the building into, in Koolhaas's
words, "an arcane block of artificial spaces with constantly changing
contents." To some, including German critic and curator Florian Rötzer,
the plan didn't adequately address the impact of digitization on architecture
itself. He called Koolhaas's cube a "form which serves only one remaining
function, namely to protect the contents, [and that] has nothing to do with
the digital universal code."
Herein lies the predominant point of view in current proposals, one that
takes technology as a prime mover: if architecture produces cultural spaces
by being both constrained by technology and liberated by its progression--whether
it's wattle and daub, post and lintel, the steel skeleton, or reinforced
concrete--then digitalization becomes a tool for reevaluating possibilities
in form. Hence the so-called "blobject"--that symbol of digital
architecture that some, including architect Hani Rashid, predict will have
an integral effect on emerging art forms. "Designing a new-media art
space is compelling because it's where we get to make a break when the artists
are trying to make a break," says Rashid, who with Lise Anne Couture
is coprincipal of New York firm Asymptote. With its design for a proposed
art and technology gallery at the Guggenheim's satellite space in Soho and
its entry in a competition to design a $40 million museum of new-media art
for Eyebeam Atelier in Manhattan, Asymptote is hoping not just to house
new art, or even to represent it, but to influence it. "It's often
said that Frank Lloyd Wright's original Guggenheim altered the trajectory
of art," Rashid explains. "Here people could see individual works
from further away--across the rotunda--and that helped encourage art to
get bigger."
If all goes according to plan, lighting, materials, and other features of
Asymptote's new Guggenheim space will allow visitors to see artists' works
in various dimensions, reflected and projected onto surfaces other
than those from which they originate. And with its Eyebeam entry--which
joins others by such torchbearing firms as Diller + Scofidio,
Greg Lynn FORM, Preston Scott Cohen, and Reiser + Umemoto--Asymptote's unevenly
curving volumes, interlocking spaces, and flowing circulation plan
are allowing anything but maximum flexibility. "I think the critical
question here is, how do you provide artists with spaces that encourage
entirely new ways of thinking?" Rashid says. "The space should
provoke people to think about things they wouldn't otherwise, and if that
means pissing artists off, that's important too."
The Walker Art Center, in Minneapolis, is also taking a proactive approach
with its proposed $90 million expansion designed by Swiss firm Herzog
& de Meuron, which among other things recently completed London's Tate
Modern museum. The Walker, however, is being even more specific about
using the tentatively named Mediatheque component of the addition to not
just present but cultivate new-media art. "We're taking the stand that
performing arts may be an interesting lens with which to think about new-media
art as a visual art," says Steve Dietz, director of new-media initiatives,
explaining that the new galleries will adjoin a proposed theater. "These
spaces will open into each other where the Mediatheque wall might open up
or become transparent or project into the performance area." Dietz
adds, "The galleries will be irregularly shaped, with different sizes
and feelings. We will definitely be making curatorial statements in
spaces that will be both more and less programmed."
But others think this is all a little premature. "These projects feel
to me like the Guggenheim Bilbao in that the built structure becomes almost
as much of a work of art as the art it contains," says Mark Tribe,
executive director of Rhizome.org, a nonprofit arts organization. "Maybe
they're putting the cart before the horse, and maybe it's time to give more
focus and money to the artwork." It's interesting, after all, that
there seem to be a lot more well-known architects proposing and designing
new-media art spaces than there are well-known new-media artists.
Which brings us to a final point: Frank Gehry's Bilbao, Koolhaas's
forthcoming Guggenheim Las Vegas, and I. M. Pei's shopping-mall-below-a-pyramid
at the Louvre have most clearly articulated the predominant museum-as-destination
strategy taking hold in the fleld--and with enough funding, any high-profile
new-media art space will be no different. "The funny thing is all you
really need is a black box," says Mark Robbins, director of design
at the National Endowment for the Arts, "so this kind of will-to-force
emphasis on the architecture may have something to do with the fact that
the museum has become more of a leisure attraction." And so far, such
attractions--with their iconic structures, restaurants, and shops--still
need physical spaces. How art and architecture will mature in the digital
age remains to be seen, and even less certain is how they'll converge. What's
definite, however, is that as long as humans have bodies that search
for extraordinary sensory experiences, museums will make sure that those
bodies come to them. Now all they have to do is figure out what it
is we're going to see when we get there.
Aric Chen lives in New York. He writes frequently on design, architecture,
art, and fashion.