Video: not all correct... - Part 2

III.

I have discussed about the factors that have given rise to the birth of video art, and now I wish to touch on one important factor—but one that is often ignored—that has assisted the progress in visual technology. For that we have to turn from art to… sex.


Throughout the history, pornography has been the main factor of the progress of visual technology. We might keep on debating about the definitions of pornography, or we can support or oppose it as passionately as we can, but we have to accept that we often make use of its impact, albeit inadvertently so. Who has fast-tracked the distribution of videos and the development of the VHS system? Pornography. Who has improved the technology of VCD and DVD? Pornography. Who has developed the system of cable television and satellite TVs? Pornography. Who has accelerated the 3G researches that are all the rage nowadays? Pornography.

Not long after the invention of film cameras (1980), the new technology was immediately used to record frames upon frames of naked women. At the turn of the century, the first film to reveal explicitly an act of sexual intercourse was made. It was distributed within a small circle of rich collectors who could afford having a 35mm projector. Argentina became the production center for “hard core” sex films. The invention of much cheaper 16mm film camera and projector opened the path for large-scale pornographic film industry, especially in the United States. The United States produced its first pornographic film in 1915, and continues to be the biggest pornographic film producer in the world.

I think it is not the liberal nature that has helped the growth of pornographic films in the United States; rather, it is its conservative nature—conservatism that is more apt to be called hypocrisy because of its double standards. In the 1950s and 1960s, when it was already common for European films to reveal nudity (for example in films by Truffaut and Pasollini), there was not a single Hollywood film that showed a naked body or a scene that was more intimate than kissing. Nudity was viewed as common in Europe, its function in the movie was generally very natural. In Hollywood, nudity became exotic, and therefore industrialized. It had often no function whatsoever in the film, so, had Indonesia’s Censorship Committee cut the sex scenes in Hollywood movies, their narratives or meanings would not be impaired. Imagine if the Censorship Committee had to cut scenes in Pedro Almodovar’s movies.

In 1999 in Provo, Utah, Larry W. Peterman was sued for distributing pornographic films within his video retails network. You might need to know that Utah County is the most conservative state in the United States of America. In a matter of minutes, the judge immediately decided that Larry Peterman was free from all the charges. Why was that? Well, Larry Peterman’s lawyer successfully showed that the residents of Utah were not as pious as people might like to believe. During the period when Peterman was on trial, the Utah residents bought twenty-thousands sex video by satellite; this number far exceeded the number of videos that Larry distributed in his store. In Marriott Hotel in Provo, guests rented in total three thousands sex video every year. Since 1973, the Supreme Court of the United States had indeed stated that something could be deemed pornographic or illegal based on the “societal standard” where the case was taking place. But when twenty thousands of sex videos were sold in a town as small as Provo, what would the “societal standard” be in the community that claimed of being conservative?

A similar thing can be said about Indonesia. People are debating about the Antipornographic and “Antipornoaction” Act, and even oral sex and living together without being married could be included in the draft for the Code of Criminal Justice, seemingly impervious to the fact that pornography is a social problem that cannot be settled through legal acts (and the state has no authority to be involved in matters regarding the sexual preference of its citizens). Furthermore, how pious are those who support the act, anyway, and how virtuous are the officials who formulate the draft?

Pornography often started as a form of rebellion. Marquis de Sade wrote to challenge the morality of his time; the flower generation used free sex to oppose war and criticize the consumptive society; Larry Flint fought for the freedom of press and against the tyranny of the state. Even some feminist groups have supported pornography, viewing it as a liberating form of the woman’s full right to control her body and sex. But when the pornographic industry has grown to be such a big business, can we still say that it is a form of rebellion? Like marijuana, pornography has been removed from its underground status and turned into an industry. The obligatory question, then, is: Who gets the profits? The answer is in the fact: it is the big companies as well as the mafia who get the profit.

Everywhere we know that the sex business invariably involves mafias and backed by legal officials. The pornographic business plays the most significant role in money laundering. Then there is also the case of suspected forced-actresses. There have been no clear data about how “willing” someone is in becoming a porn actress. The income from the most famous porn stars in the United States could reach up to eight to ten thousand dollars per year from films, plus eight to fifteen thousand dollar per week (!) from nude dancing. In Indonesia, especially in Jakarta and Bandung, an amateur nude model receives on average Rp2 million per photo session. If the model is already somewhat famous (for example if she has been involved in soap operas or photographed in a tabloid), then her value increases. A model once asked for Rp7.5 million for baring her breasts, and Rp12.5 million for full nudity. With such lucrative offers (in the context of each country’s per capita income), someone might be willing to do anything. The pressure experienced by porn actresses, however, is huge, too. Stars like Shauna Grants, Alex Jordan, and Savannah chose to commit suicides. Linda Lovelace, the actress in the classic blue film, Deep Throat, wrote in her memoir that she was acting under the threat of her gun-toting manager. If we must to fight against pornography, I think we, first and foremost, must fight those criminal aspects.

Pornography demeans us (not only women) because of its basic assumption that everyone thinks only of sex. War on pornography, however, must strive toward a society that is more open in matters of sex and women, not toward a society that precisely becomes more hypocrite and narrow-minded.

In Europe itself, especially in Scandinavian countries, it is precisely such open attitude of the society that gives pornography virtually no market. In 1969, Denmark became the first country in the world that abolished Morality Act. Since that time, public consumption on pornography increased for a while, then became static, and kept on decreasing until today. One survey held by the Institute on Crime Law and Criminology at the University of Copenhagen found that many residents of Copenhagen found pornography as “uninteresting”, “disgusting”, and even “boring”.

The war against pornography waged by the government of United States goes on, and keeps on failing, because—aside from the hypocrisy and corruption—the industry itself has become to big to fight. Yearly profits of the porn industry in the US reaches up to ten billion dollars, and its two-way effect on the telecommunication industry becomes increasingly hard to deny. The porn industry is no longer an underground industry managed in clandestine ways. The world’s biggest companies now take on pornography as one of their most profitable business branches.

If we have to name any sex business, we might mention Playboy, Penthouse, Hustler, or Vivid—but did you ever guess that General Motors, Time Warner, and AT&T also take advantage of porn, even in scales that are way beyond those widely-known sex businesses? General Motors now sell sex films more than Hustler does. DirectTV, a subsidiary of General Motors, receive USD 200 million annually from pay-per-view sex films. Satellite sex-films revenues of EchoStars Communication—funded, among others, by Rupert Murdoch—are higher than those of Playboy. Meanwhile, AT&T, America’s biggest communication company, now has a hard core sex channel called Hot Network. AT&T also has a company that supplies porn videos to hotels. Meanwhile, Forbes reports that in the print business, facilities for printing porn magazines by Milton Luros on the American West Coast are second only to the printing facilities for Los Angeles Times. In 2001, Vivid Entertainment Group—whose pirated VCDs are more widely distributed in Indonesia than any other pirated VCD—went public.

Larry Flint, founder of the Hustler empire, once said, “With technology, the jinn is out of the bottle and no-one, including the government, can stop its progress.” When Sony distributed video players for the first time in 1970, pioneers in the sex industry rejoiced. They now have a cheap and private way to distribute blue movies. I have previously mentioned that Betamax died because it was not compatible with computers. There was, however, another factor that caused its demise: porn businessmen throughout the United States agreed to adopt the VHS system because this particular system provided them with sharper images. The inventions of LDs, VCDs, and DVDs had also been triggered by these porn businessmen, because the new technology enabled their customers to skip the scenes to watch only their favorite ones. Cable television and pay-per-view satellite television would not be there had these porn businessmen not started it in the form of premium services in hotels and digital network. The yearly Adult Video News Award—a kind of Oscar for the porn industry—is always held at the same time with the International Consumer Electronics Show.

In the summer of 2002, the BBC made a breakthrough by airing Wimbledon matches interactively. Viewers in the UK could watch four matches in a row, or choose the camera angle that they preferred. Although this seemed new, the porn businessmen have actually improved this technology a decade ago. The AT&T has improved the broadband technology (a combination of television and the internet), costing them 30 billion dollars, and that technology is expected to increase sex film orders from homes. The sex industry also provides the largest field for researches and development in the 3G technology (the third generation of cellular technology, or the transfer of images through the cellular phones, known as the MMS technology). The ability to send sex pictures has even been used by cellular phone companies to advertise their products.

Not to mention the internet. One survey found out that when the internet was first launched, the most-used search terms were ‘sex’, ‘porn’, and names of the genitalia in various languages. You can just come to any internet café in the evening and look at the ‘History’ folder in any computer. I can guarantee you that there will be at least twenty porn sites that people have visited from morning to evening on just that one computer.

According to the research done by the editor of Information Design (MIT Press, 1999), Bob Jacobson, porn sites are generally very innovative. The design and content are indeed “idiotic”, but the technology used is very impressive and indicative of where the internet technology is going. Media streaming on porn sites cruises at at least 300 kbps, faster than any news or film site. The client services are very responsive, and the holding of classified data such as credit card codes is the safest.

When dot coms enterprises were failing—during the period known as the ‘dot com crash’—porn sites did not experience such crisis. Today there are around 300.000 adult sites with profits of more than two billion dollars—more than any other internet business. Forbes magazine in its 30th October 2000 edition, had warned: “People are not going to buy shampoo on the internet.” The dot com euphoria belittled the importance of direct scrutiny over the objects to be bought, the importance of straight-forward connection between the client and the store. It is difficult to trade real things on the virtual space. And that was what people too belatedly realize. Porn business can succeed, because what it sells is illusion rather than actual things. The proofs are there: Indonesian shopping sites have similarly crashed (the LippoShop, for example) while the Indonesian porn sites stroll on until today (Nona Manis, Exotic Azza, SentralW, Cerita Seru). Even the site www.astaga.com that had been built upon hefty funds and promotion was shaken in no time, while the not-for-profit www.ceritaseru.org that keeps on changing server can survive and enjoy its sixth year this September. It is thus apt that big companies request business advice from successful administrator of porn sites. Danni Ashe, the American porn model who sells her nude pictures on her own site, now works as consultant on technological issues and as strategic advisor for many American companies.

Technology walks closely hand-in-hand with the sex business because technology provides the one essential matter for this business, i.e. privacy. Porn films began in special adult movie theaters, which was out in the open. One might feel ashamed if caught red-handed coming out of such theaters (remember how Travis Bickle in Taxi Driver asked Betsy on a date to the porn theater). The existence of video players enabled one to watch the movies in the privacy of home, but one would still need to go to the video rental or order the video in writing. The internet makes porn accessible at all times, from all places. It is, however, too difficult to carry your computer anywhere, while laptops are still too expensive. Therefore, what can be more private and easier to access than porn images on your cell phone in your pocket? [19]


IV.

The technology always have two faces. How people make use of it might not match the reason why it was invented in the first place. You might be a discerning viewer who use your DVD player to watch Ingmar Bergman’s Virgin Spring, but just you know that it is such films as Vivid’s Virgin Slut that has triggered the invention of DVD technology. You might be an antimilitary activist doing internet campaigns, but just you know that the internet started off as a military facility called ARPANET. Antiglobalization activists are also campaigning using all the sophisticated means of communication created by their “enemies” (i.e. multinational corporations, proponents of globalization).

How about the video? How aware is it about its situation, how does it see itself? The OK. Video Festival claims that it does not merely aim to celebrate its optimism regarding the existence of videos, but also to offer a critical view about the video’s role within a society that falls deeper at the mercy of the culture of spectacle.

The culture of spectacle is closely related to pornography in one particular matter: it gives an illusion of intimacy. Gripped for hours in front of the box, we peep at the private lives of others’. Voyeur is no longer a term related merely to a sexual preference; instead, it has become a social norm. Gossip shows tell and reveal all the minutiae of the celebrities’ love lives; reality shows expose the doings of the commoners. We know the names of the celebrities’ offspring, but do not know the names of our neighbors’ children. The culture of spectacle cannot exist without alienated social lives, without ruined public spaces.

Such alienation, in turn, requires a release of sorts. The culture of spectacle does not merely mean “the culture of watching” but also “the culture of being watched”. Youngsters flock to VJ auditions—most of them say that they want “to be famous”. “Becoming rich” has perhaps a practical function; but what is the function of “becoming famous”? This is, again, an illusion. When someone’s face is broadcast through satellite and appears on thousands televisions, she feels that she is known to thousands of viewers—and therefore know them, too.

The information technology also further uniforms the language—and I am not talking about the digital language as I have previously mentioned, but about everyday language. Televisions make youngsters in East Java talk in terms of ‘lu’ (slang for ‘you’) and ‘gua’ (slang for ‘I’), just like youngsters in Jakarta.[20] Computers make Indonesians casually say words such as ‘file’, ‘byte’, ‘browsing’, and ‘chatting’, as if they were Indonesian words. It is only in countries with strong linguistic nationalism (for example France or Spain) that those terms are transformed into indigenous terms. Languages that do not take part in the global game of information (i.e. are not found on the internet) will very likely perish. At today’s count, ten languages die each year.[21]

How does video art respond to all these things? Nam June Paik (I eventually have to quote him) has indeed said: “Television has attacked us all our lives; now we can attack it back.” But it is never clear by what means Paik would launch his attack. Indeed, his works presented surprises, but their effects were slight. Compared to Paik’s works, the television industry clearly has a larger capacity to influence the public. Paik, to me, has precisely been more successful in his treatises on television (for your information, it was he who invented the term ‘electronic superhighway’ in his 1973 essay, “Education in the Paperless Society”). Another interesting fact about Paik is that he—like Walter Benjamin and Bertolt Brecht—was an escapee from a fascist military regime. Because of their political experiences, the three writers have distinct views on the art and communications. And the three of them, with their own distinct ways, were influential for the emergence of the new media art. Brecht is indeed better known as a playwright, but he has actually written a treatise on the radio, which had a significant effect on the new media art (most of his plays had been adapted from radio dramas, especially those by Anna Seghers). Benjamin celebrated the democratizing effect of technology on art, while Brecht realized that fascism crept in through one-way broadcasts and asked whose interest it was that had been served by the progress of the passive and unilateral radio system. Meanwhile, the early video art works by Paik analyzed what he called as “the potentials of the two-way communication.”

Do Indonesian video artists carry a similar task? After all their political and cultural experiences, do they also wish to make communication more humane? I presume they do, because the OK. Video Festival claims that “many artists use the video to have a more intensive communication with the public”. But there is no explanation as how this intensive communication is to be achieved. I for one still see no proof for this claim, especially because the form of the OK. Video Festival still smacks of an “exhibition”.

The claim that the video art works require a space signifies that this form of art is one that must be “displayed” instead of “broadcast”. But we know that the matter of space (museum, gallery) has had many distinct problems along the history of art. When Benjamin welcomed the advent of the technology that is able to reproduce art works, he said nothing about what would happen to the original art work once the reproductions had spread. For Goenawan Mohamad, within the original art work lies the irreplaceable value that he calls “oligarchic treasure”.[22] It is the “treasure” that the market would later give value to—supported by researches and competent art criticism. In this case, Goenawan thinks well of the market; but John Berger has a different opinion. For Berger, the market rejuvenates the process of mystification that the technology has brought down. The meaning of an art work no longer lies in what it conveys, but rather in what it is. This means that the art work is taken as an object whose value depends on its scarcity. Such scarcity makes the original art work be treated as a relic. “False religiosity that now surrounds the original work of art, and that which eventually depends on the work’s market value, has replaced what was lost from the painting when the camera enabled it to be reproduced. It has now a nostalgic function. This is the final empty claim to preserve the values of the undemocratic culture of the oligarchy.”[23] Berger’s opinion about the “art work as the sacred relic” has been supported by a survey held by the French sociologist, Pierre Bordieu. Bordieu interviewed blue-collared workers: “From all the places mentioned below, which one would most strongly come to your mind if we are talking of museums?” Most answered ‘the church’ (66%). Nine per cent mentioned about the church and the library, while four per cent said that it would be the church and college hall.[24] This means: something sacred and serious.

In the 1960s, when many leftist intellectuals criticized the museum and gallery as bourgeois infrastructures, Berger actually did not question the museum and the gallery an sich. He tried to purify our views on the art work from the effect of the prestige that came about due to its monetary value instead of its meaning. Berger was dubbed “liberator of the image” by Peter Fuller from the Arts Review. His essays—which started off from a television program on BBC and were published as a book in 1972—had a significant impact on the birth of cultural studies, which of late have become in vogue.

In Indonesia—with its wobbly modernism—I think we still need public musea, art galleries, the curatorial system, as well as well-functioning critique. It is precisely these infrastructures that can protect our world of art from standards that are merely based on capitals. But when it comes to the video art, I have a different opinion. If we are to exhibit video art works in galleries or musea, would it not be denying the essence of the video art with its desire for mass communication and the use of television as its chosen medium of distribution? And, most importantly, its being located in a museum or a gallery can distort the meaning of the video art work. The video recording of the Tiananmen massacre is a journalistic report; but when the recording is broadcast in a museum, tagged as a work of ‘video art’, its meaning can totally change. Journalistic videos shorten the distance between us and the reality; while the recording’s position as a “work-of-art-that-is-a-sacred-relic” stretches the distance yet again.

There is one thought of Nam June Paik’s that I consider as the most significant. In his work Collage (1974), Paik makes use of a reproduction of television ad in the Life magazine in 1944 that read: “How long will it take for all American households to have their own television sets?” Beneath the text, Paik adds: “How long will it take for all American artists have their own television channels?” Paik was aware of the fact that his video installations were actually inadequate. To be able to achieve his mission to attack the television, video artists must “enter” the television.

I am reminded of the TV comedian, Andy Kaufman, played by Jim Carrey in the film Man on the Moon. He demanded for a ten minute disruption of vertical lines or distorted images to take place during his show on the TV. His aim was to make his viewers stand and walk from the couch to hit the TV set or repair its antennae. Naturally, his boss was fuming as he heard about this demand, but Kaufman found the trick funny. His profession as a comedian indeed made him appear on TV to be laughed at—but he also understood how to take advantage of the television to laugh back at his viewers.

Going into the television and disturb the viewers: I think these are the video artists’ ideals. We must view the culture of spectacle with critical eyes, or we must perhaps sabotage it instead of celebrating it. Cultural studies cannot merely rejoice at the chaotic mass culture; they carry the task of providing criticism and facilitating changes.[25] As his audience was expecting him to jest, Andy Kaufman precisely chose to read one whole novel by F. Scott Fitzgerald, thus putting his audience to sleep. I imagine it would be awesome if Gosip Pakar by Anggun Priambodo were broadcast in the middle of a gossip program about the lives of the celebrities, or if I’m a Boyband by Benny Nemerofsky were aired in the middle of a music program. Naturally, such ideals might simply be wishful thinking, as going into the television industry means getting involved with such a hefty amount of money. However, “having their own television channels” might not be taken literally—there bounds to be other ways to distribute works of video art aside from in gallery exhibitions. We can sell the works in the form of VCDs, say (and then go on making pirated copies of the VCD), or perhaps we can hack the television frequency.[26]

Or, who knows, perhaps the art ideals of our video artists do not go hand-in-hand with the mass communication capability of their medium. Perhaps they are satisfied if their works are watched by some hundreds visitors to the Festival. Perhaps, too, OK. Video Festival’s claim is completely, utterly wrong: perhaps video art was never born with the desire to have intense communication with the public; perhaps it was never born with the desire to provide critical views regarding the culture of spectacle. Perhaps the video art is just another phenomenon of the culture of spectacle, which does not offer the public any option other than to swallow it.[27]

I do, however, believe that we still own that option, with or without the video art.




Jakarta, September – October 2003
Translated by Rani Elsanti



RONNY AGUSTINUS is one of the founders of ruangrupa, and a writer and the editor of the Karbon journal to 2002. Besides working at the Brighten Institute, Bogor, West Java, he used to be the editor-in-chief in the publishing house Marjin Kiri (2005-2007). He focuses on the translation of literary works from Latin America as well as on neoliberalism studies.