AV / DV
intervention & object
rubber, metal, 40x5x2cm, video 1:49 min
AV /DV is a customized 40 cm pressure hose – AV Auto valve / DV Dunlop valve adapter – to balance pressure between a car and bicycle tire. First tested and shown at Remind me later solo show at Kunstverein Arnsberg.
Aram Bartholl, ‘AV/DV’ 2016. Performance in public. Vdeo 1:49. Courtesy Kunstverein Arnsberg
Aram Bartholl, ‘Greenscreen Arnsberg’ 2016. Performance in public. Video 3:47. Courtesy Kunstverein Arnsberg
Thanks to the whole team of the Kunstverein Arnsberg!! It was a crazy good week putting this together with a lot of help of many people, thank you everyone! THX to Vlado Velkov making all this possible! :))
Remind Me Later
8.07. – 28.09.2016
Kunstverein Arnsberg e.V.
Perhaps you are reading this text on your mobile device?.
Do you have your phone under control or does it have a grip on you in its grip?
The consequences of technological developments on our social lives and relationships is a central theme in the work of Aram Bartholl.
In the current exhibition, Bartholl looks into the digital everyday live. ‘Remind me later’ is a very well known term for us instantly recognisable to us as users. As a form of reflex and self-defence against the constant stream of new automatic updates, we immediately the click tap othe ‘Remind me later’ button has become a habitual immediate reaction.
Digitalisation can undoubtedly connect us, but can also produce alienation. Meet with friends? Spend time outdoors in nature? Remind me later. Often, the mobile phone is more captivating of attention than the person sitting opposite. The limitless possibilities of communication have more to offer than real life? Really?
Aram Bartholl investigates the social side effects of digitalisation, and examines their influence on our analogue lives. In doing so, his work often incorporates outdoor space and blends perceptions of the real and the virtual. His work in Arnsberg continues in this vein, with humour and great sensitivity.
Aram Bartholl was born in Bremen in 1972 and lives in Berlin. He is guest professor at the Kunstakademie in Kassel and at UCLA in Los Angeles.
Remind Me Later
8.07. – 28.09.2016
Eröffnung der Ausstellung und Sommerfest im Garten des Kunstvereins
am Freitag, 8.07.2016, 19 Uhr
Kunstverein Arnsberg e.V.
by Nadja Buttendorf & Aram Bartholl
public intervention, video 2:41 min
credits: Lee Tusman on lookout! Thx! :))
‘Long Lasting LED’
by Nadja Buttendorf & Aram Bartohll
Video, 2:02 min
Venice, Los Angeles 2016
Live stream intervention involving a green screen, periscope.tv & Venice. Thanks to the team!! Credits to: Nadja Buttendorf, Theo Triantafyllidis, Lee Tusman, Ashley B. & periscope.tv
Build And Run
dimension: 1024 x 768px, medium: computer game, PC & web
The workshop night at Machine Project in L.A. with Crypto Nails by Nadja Buttendorf and KILLYOURPHONE.COM was very much fun! Thx to Machine Project for hosting this event!! & thx to the people for stat-us.org for inviting us!! Also thanks to Simon Steiner from Otis for this super cool handmade screen print poster!!
Saturday, April 30, 8:00pm–10:00pm
1200 N Alvarado St, Los Angeles, CA 90026, USA
How to share a 12,-$ UCLA parking ticket:
- Get your 12,- $ all day visitor parking ticket .
- Leave it in the car as long as you park at UCLA.
- When you leave pass it on!
DOMENICO QUARANTA: Oh, When the Internet Breaks at Some Point
“Walked out this morning / Don’t believe what I saw / A hundred billion bottles / Washed up on the shore / Seems I’m not alone at being alone / A hundred billion castaways / Looking for a home” The Police, “Message in a Bottle”, 1979
Back in October 2010, German artist Aram Bartholl cemented 5 USB flash drives in various locations in New York, as part of an Eyebeam residency.  Referring to the way, in espionage, items are passed between two individuals using a secret location and without an actual meeting, he called the project Dead Drops. The first five dead drops were empty, except for a small readme file explaining the project. A dedicated website was set up, featuring a video tutorial and a simple “how to” and inviting people to participate in the project.
In interviews, Bartholl explained that at the beginning he was just fascinated by the power of an image: a small data container plugged in the wall, in public space, and a person trying to access it with her own device. He invited people to participate by dropping files in and taking files out, installing their own dead drop and sending the GPS coordinates to Bartholl. As in many collaborative projects, he wasn’t particularly confident about people’s participation, and he believed that the project was conceptually strong enough even in the shape of a small, five-nodes network. But people liked the idea, and as I’m typing on my keyboard today, the online database features almost 1500 registered dead drops for a total storage space of 9891 gigabytes. I installed my own a while ago and I’ve noticed some others along the years, and I’ve always been fascinated by the precariousness of these tiny, rusty artifacts. I’ve never seen anybody plugging in, and probably most of them are almost empty, or out of work. But they are, still, extremely powerful as an image.
Message in a Bottle
“A Dead Drop is a naked piece of passively powered Universal Serial Bus technology embedded into the city, the only true public space. In an era of growing clouds and fancy new devices without access to local files we need to rethink the freedom and distribution of data. The Dead Drops movement is on its way for change! Free your data to the public domain in cement! Make your own Dead Drop now! Un-cloud your files today!!!” Aram Bartholl, “The Dead Drops Manifesto”, 2010 
The dead drops network emerged in an age that saw a major shift in the general perception of the internet as a public space. Widespread Wi-Fi access, the massive adoption of social networking sites, and the advent of smartphones made people start to think about the internet as a new public space, with no physical boundaries and infrastructure, where data can be shared and taken easily and seamlessly. The metaphor of the cloud, already used in the Nineties to describe the internet, became more and more popular in the late 2000s, when cloud computing emerged – further reinforcing the idea of an immaterial public space and eroding the difference between public and private, local and shared. As Annet Dekker wrote in 2008: