19 September 2011

Thank you, AM

A week ago AM Radio logged in, and I went over to IDIA Laboratories to say hello. I hadn't seen him inworld in a while. "I am surprised the sim is still here," he said, in reference to the announcement back in April that the sim would close in six months's time. I had always taken that to mean October, and had slowly been taking photos and footage for machinima, some of which you can see on my flickr stream.

Today the IDIA Laboratories sim closed, and with it some of the most striking places in Second Life. They weren't just places, but were works of art that invited us to reconsider our sense of self, that engaged our perceptions of space, solitude and community ... our sense of relationships to one another. Maybe AM didn't think of his work as art, but as Mel Bochner beautifully put it, "Art is a way of thinking about things."

They were also wildly beautiful places. It's funny, but I've always thought of AM's work more in relation to postmodern dance than visual art, reminded of how Merce Cunningham was our master of depth on the stage. Perhaps in time we will see AM's full sim creations again, or something like them. But until then, I would like simply to say: Thanks, AM Radio. And thanks also to John Fillwalk and the team at IDIA Laboratories at Ball State University for having had the vision to support AM's work.

Then it was time for him to go. I was taking these photos, and he left. It was 5:30 SLT on September 12th. I don't think he got another look.


[2011/09/12 17:00] AM Radio: i dont know how to use viewer two
[2011/09/12 17:01] AM Radio stares at viewer two wondering where the hell the menus are
[2011/09/12 17:01] Ziki Questi: well, it's best to download firestorm
[2011/09/12 17:01] AM Radio: available for mac?
[2011/09/12 17:02] Ziki Questi: oh yes
[2011/09/12 17:02] Ziki Questi: i have macs and run it
[2011/09/12 17:02] AM Radio: nice



  1. Thanks Ziki for this note. Let me join you.

    Thanks, AM Radio.

  2. Sad news indeed. Thank you AM and thank you Ziki.

  3. This comment has been removed by the author.

  4. Good heavens, what a bunch of nonsense I wrote. :)

    What I meant was that I always had an experience while in AM's sims: if no one else was there, I was acutely aware of my solitude, and if someone else was there (or several other people), I sensed that we were all enjoying some sort of unspoken relationship in those moments, all experiencing the sim together. And that's were I thought of Merce Cunningham, like the people in the sim were the dancers, on AM's stage. :)