On The Fringe
Diane Pricop
Take an event of some kind, and ask those present to recount what they saw, heard and experienced. Let’s imagine that rumours are circulating, and now ask those who are not present to relate the facts. We all do it: stories play an elementary role in our interactions, whether they belong to us or not, even in our most banal conversations. Given that human perception is necessarily based on experience and various other complex factors, how can we distinguish the objective from the subjective, or establish a clear difference between reality and a point of view in relation to a fact? And what happens when our stories are widely disseminated? The question has fascinated thinkers for centuries and has given rise to a number of theories on the subject, constantly fuelled by new societal parameters and the advent of new technologies such as ICT and, more recently, AI. In this article we look at two art projects, two distinct scenarios through which three artists explore these elements; Land Under Wave II by Andreea Medar and Malina Ionescu investigate the impact of scientific reality and rural legends on communities in Scorusu and Melinesti (RO), while Fringed Objects by [Floriama Candea] revisits a widely held pseudo-scientific theory relating to the powers of pyramids and their effect on our relationship to the world.
Land Under Wave II
The project begins as the artist Andreea Medar’s personal desire to follow in the footsteps of her great-uncle Marin Seclaman, a renowned Romanian professor and researcher in geology. During his lifetime, he had begun to study the shells found on the hilltops of Melinesti, a town in the south of Romania, which can be found all over the region, a strange find for a place so far from the coast. One of the reasons why these shells are to be found here may be that the ocean Tethys once covered this part of the world, and they are in fact fossils, a mark and geological proof of the existence of the sea millions of years ago.
When the opportunity arises in 2023, Andreea and her colleague Malina Ionescu decide to take up the subject and begin their research in the field. They start by exploring the area around Melinesti, talking to local people and gathering information. They learn a number of things: firstly, that the soil in the region, although already the subject of geological and palaeontological studies, is densely populated by these fossils, to the point where they can even be found in local people’s gardens. Secondly, the local people, having only a vague idea of scientific theories, particularly what they were taught at school, have lived with all sorts of stories that they attribute to these objects. One village elder even shares a piece of local folklore with them: legend has it that a giant used to sit on the top of the hill, his feet in the river Amaradia, and eat these shells. Another local resident recounts how she sorts through the shells, leaving them aside to be crushed and used in her vegetable garden.
Generally speaking, they represent a nuisance when it comes to carrying out work that requires digging up the ground. The artists see a multitude of stories to be cleared, which they compile in a series of filmed interviews, but also the importance of drawing attention to the natural richness of the site sublimated by these fossils. They involve Vlad Iorgoni, a young geology student with a passion for nature, who is quick to collect samples in the field and send them to the laboratory at the Faculty of Geology in Bucharest for analysis. The result is unequivocal: these fossils bear witness to the existence of the Paratéthys megalac over five million years ago. It is precisely this information that will propel the shells to the status of local treasure in the eyes of the locals. Indeed, when the team talks to the villagers about the geological and palaeontological interest accorded to fossils by the scientific authorities, something astonishing happens: everyone listens. Better still, people start digging up their gardens, collecting what they found and asking questions to find out whether such and such an object might be of any interest or value in the eyes of science. Because scientific information could have kept its simple status of scientific information, and life would have resumed its course. Later, we learn that the villagers organised themselves into groups on Facebook to exchange more easily, taking the impact of the information up a notch.
How does an object (or collection of objects) that has always been there in front of our eyes suddenly gain in importance? The artistic interest was already intriguing, but clearly insufficient. Is it then simply the intervention of scientific authority? There are, however, a variety of counter-examples in history, and it would probably be wrong to attribute this credit entirely to science. This doesn’t mean that legends and stories can’t exist alongside this new reality; it’s more a question of understanding how our beliefs migrate. It is indeed the beliefs of this community that give new value to these fossils, going so far as to modify their attitude and behaviour towards them. It’s interesting to note that this phenomenon occurred simply by word of mouth, but the history of the world clearly shows the effectiveness of this method, now exacerbated by information technology. The project finally takes shape in October 2023; presented as part of the Simultan Festival exhibition in Timisoara, the organisation behind the production, the artists unveil a documentary film made in collaboration with Mihai Medar, featuring interviews with villagers and footage filmed by a drone flying over the surrounding area. Fossils are also on display in a corner of the room for visitors to take a closer look at.
In the summer of the following year, Andreea Medar and Malina Ionescu set off on another research trip, this time to Scorusu, to the north-west of Melinesti. This location was suggested to them by Ion Iordache, a local politician who recognised the importance of fossils and had long sought to preserve them without drawing too much attention to the potential of this resource. The team is back together, with the addition of Daniela Liseanu, a young geology researcher, to return to the field and collect new finds. On site, they meet villagers who proudly praise the richness of the area, particularly the shells. For the purposes of the project, the artists also call on Valentin Paraschiv, a doctor in palaeontology at the National Institute of Geology and the National Museum of Geology in Bucharest, to obtain documentation, in particular maps, and to clarify the data that will feed their project. Once again they choose a documentary presentation, although more minimalist this time, and the installation uses the codes of a scientific museum, a way for them to question the fine line between science and legend, to show their own perception, and to invite visitors to question their own.
Fringed Objects
The project begins when artist Floriama Candea investigates the existence of a pyramid of curious origins and history on the outskirts of the city of Pitesti in Romania, on the site of the sewage treatment plant. It was built on the initiative of the Ministry of Agriculture and the National Council for Science and Technology in the 1980s, during the reign of Communist dictator Nicolae Ceausescu. Designed in the image of the Kheops pyramid, this new National Laboratory for Fundamental Research is under the direction of Marioara Godeanu, a doctor of biology and researcher in the field of wastewater treatment. Between 1986 and 1992, experiments were apparently carried out there on the impact of the supposed ‘pyramid effect’ on water purification, seed germination and other biological phenomena. Unfortunately, there is very little information about the research actually conducted, which immediately places this site in a speculative zone in the collective imagination. As the pyramid itself is already the subject of all sorts of legends and is charged with a very special symbolism in many cultures around the world, it is natural that the mystery surrounding the possible extravagant experiments conducted on behalf of an obscure political regime should fuel the imagination. Yet enough scientists over the years have studied this alleged phenomenon to classify it within the ranks of ‘pyramidology’, a field of pseudo-science that nonetheless continues to fascinate. The lines are further blurred by the fact that while pseudo-sciences are not based on a scientific approach, nor are they recognised by peers, the Pitesti pyramid was indeed founded by a recognised scientist, at least at the time.
So when Floriama decides to take up the subject, she starts by studying the theories put forward by the laboratory, and tries to understand the pyramid effect. In the course of her research, she speaks with Charles Berville from the Climato Sfera association and Matei Georgescu from the Technical University of Civil Engineering in Bucharest to compare water purification methods, which will enable her to distinguish between a scientific, technical and applied reality and an unfounded theory. Now in the design phase, she decides to create three plexiglas pyramids, through which she will project a hologram that she calls a ‘video-poem’. Each video-poem is a story about a subject that has been observed and studied throughout history in both the natural sciences and the humanities, a subject that has remained without a definitive answer and which fascinates people’s minds: pure water, growth and decay of organic matter, and the definition of a limit. She incorporates scientifically proven elements such as the molecular structure of water, but focuses on the speculative aspect of the theories put forward around the subjects, providing no real answers for the viewer. To produce the holograms, she writes the accompanying texts, which also serve as a script for the AI that generates the images and feeds the stories. She even adds a generated voice, in the style of Sir David Attenborough, to add an almost solemn feel, which has the effect of confusing the audience all the more. The choice of Artificial Intelligence for this project is not insignificant; the artist wishes to draw a parallel between pseudo-science and AI. Because we share the same fascination for technologies whose mechanisms escape us as we do for the magical powers of the pyramids. But why do we react the way we do to the unknown, or rather the misunderstood? And what should we believe about this voice that seems to have come straight out of a BBC documentary? Floriama raises important questions about the nature of our certainties by showing that the constant evolution of science, the influx of different theories around the same subject, places it in a fragile position. This creates an opportunity for listeners to modify their beliefs, without being able to tell the difference between right and wrong (since in the end nothing is really proven), and to adhere to ideas based on their own perceptions. And all this is amplified by the human imagination.
Here, AI serves the project not as a tool for artistic experimentation but as a demonstration of how our own minds work. Nothing could be more logical when we know that algorithms are powered by human brains. Even with all the tangible evidence of its factitious nature, not to mention its considerable social and ecological impact, we continue to live under the impression that it is an independent, autonomous, even self-taught organism. The same applies to the great pyramids of Egypt; while the evidence erased by time opens up speculation as to their origin, it has nevertheless been proven that there is nothing magical about them, either in their form or in their function. And this applies to all the pyramids. With this in mind, Floriama invites the public to experience her installation by becoming observers of their own mechanisms of understanding, and by revisiting their relationship with the myths that captivate them.
Stories as the binding force of humanity
Stories are not just about a specific moment in time; they are intimately linked to our personal and collective beliefs, which themselves form the basis of our societies and determine the way in which the communities to which we belong function.
Note that ‘belief’ does not necessarily refer to religion, the prism is broad. For example, in very simplified terms: an economic system is a scaffolding of rules based on collective belief in the value of money and mutual trust between citizens, institutions and businesses. When this trust breaks down, it generally leads to serious economic and social crises. If tomorrow we collectively stopped believing in “money”, this would certainly not prevent us from living, since money cannot be eaten or drunk, but we would have to reorganise ourselves, collectively again, with new rules based on new values. Since the smooth running of society depends largely on our beliefs in a system and the trust we place in our fellow human beings, it’s clear that the stories that create them play a crucial role. Malina and Andreea, without knowing it, had a real impact during their visits to Melinesti, by adding a degree of scientific truth, they helped to create a new version of the story in the community, and action followed: “we believe these shells are important, so from now on we’re going to preserve them and perpetuate this behaviour.” This does not prevent other myths and legends from existing in the collective imagination in parallel. The impact of the mysteries surrounding the pyramids is far more complex, because we need to retrace whole centuries of historical discoveries, scientific theories and philosophical concepts to begin to understand the phenomenon. All this becomes all the more tangled when you consider the fine line between science and pseudo-science, and Raluca Bujor’s article on the subject provides some answers that are well worth the diversions. Between Floriama’s pyramids and Andreea and Malina’s fossils, as they present them to us in their exhibition, it’s a question of scale. On the one hand, word of mouth is an age-old vehicle for telling stories, which has proved to be particularly effective on the scale of a small group of people who know and trust each other. On the other hand, information technology, from the first telegraph to the latest iPhone, has helped to connect people from all walks of life, sometimes adhering to different value and belief systems, to come together around common subjects of fascination. Trust is created, new virtual communities emerge, stories circulate and beliefs are formed. But in the frantic race to perfect these technologies, AI represents a major challenge in terms of conveying stories and potentially transforming our beliefs, some of which are fundamental to our society and to the communities we identify with. Floriama does not list the risks here, nor does she take a political stance. She does, however, place critical reflection at the forefront, while offering a more flexible level of reading. In the On The Fringe exhibition, the artists make this scale coexist by putting us in the position of explorers ; they plunge us into a documentary adventure, while projecting us into an alternative narrative, but always through the stories, myths and legends that cradle humanity.
The installations can be seen at the WASP (Working Art Space & Production) gallery in Bucharest from 13 to 27 November 2024, and a round-table discussion with the artists, philosopher Raluca Bujor and geologist Valentin Paraschiv will take place on 14 November at 18:00. The exhibition is an invitation to travel between Melinesti, Scorusu, Pitesti, and Giza by extension, through the ages, from the Miocene to the present day, but above all, into the depths of our imagination.