The Avatar
Three years is essentially nothing in the context of normal human lifespan, it is also nothing in many other contexts related to almost all areas of knowledge. In the case of the emerging digital world, three years can represent a huge gap between an idea, a premonition if you will, and its (always work-in-progress) execution.
Three years ago, right at the beginnings of Linden Lab’s Second Life, Ron Burnett published How Images Think, in which the artist explored the mechanics of visualization within the new ecosystem created by digital images as “integral part of all media, including animation, video games, data visualization, and the internet.” Burnett’s work also looked at the interactive experience in which spectators become participants and collaboration develops into a new form of intelligence.
Although How Images Think deals with virtual worlds and computer animated images, it does not directly addresses what was at the time the newborn Second Life, almost entirely unknown to most people and miles away from what it eventually became in 2006. Nevertheless Burnett offers an important contribution to imagining the avatar:
“Imagine an avatar that looks like a person, walks like a person, and is able to participate in worlds that people could never dream of entering. The magic here remains under the viewer’s control. Spectators are able to explore microworlds and macroworlds through their avatars. They can return in time to the terrible excess of a decaying Rome or go forward to hypothetical futures. As viewer-avatars play or walk among the people and places they and animators have created, they can change their characteristics to suit the feelings and responses they are having to the experience.”
Now, what is most interesting about this visualization of the avatar is that it is extracted out of a review of emerging forms of animation, specifically referring to digital films such as Final Fantasy: The Spirit Within (2001). According to Burnett, the avatar in film eventually achieves a level of identification from the audience that makes her real, closer to be perceived as a human entity. Fast forward three years later and you will be able to enter a more evolved (and popular) Second Life, where most avatars are created after human images and are essential part of a virtual world that can very well be a movie.
The cinematic feel of this emerging world transfer certain quality to avatars endowing them with the magic of cinema. We become part of this never-ending film, both part and creators of the story, which has the same elements of unpredictability as traditional audiovisual storytelling. The experience is different every time. Looking at avatars as characters of a movie or perhaps even a TV show (a reality TV show) can help us decode the meaning embedded in them, after all they are not merely representations of their creators but the result of a process in which conscious aesthetic decisions are made, communicating a wealth of information about the individual behind the avatar.
Eva and Franco Mattes (internationally know as 0100101110101101.org) are initiating an exploration of the avatar through its aesthetics (I’m sure a lot more will follow); their new portrait exhibition “13 most beautiful avatars,” is the result of one year of traveling around Second Life. The outcome is a photo exhibit that feels more like virtual anthropology than a digital catalogue or artistic documentation.


