In a world increasingly saturated by technology—you can't grab a cup of coffee without "checking in," no less find a date, book a vacation, confirm plans, order pizza, read a book, or learn about the far-flung corners of the globe without the help of machines great and small. And trying to fight the undeniable jaggernaut that is the humanity-technology mash-up can feel like spitting into the wind. Or a pathetic clinging to yesteryear. Or a willful ignorance of something we could take advantage of —and let fill our sails— instead of lamenting its existence and letting it dash us against the rocks.
In short, it feels like, if ya can't beat 'em, join 'em.
And there's few people who are capitalizing on this adage better than KATSU, a graffiti artist who's begun painting with the help of drones. Katsu just showcased his paintings created—in part—by the flying "death-machine" at the Silicon Valley Contemporary art fair last weekend. The bespectled canvasses—intermittently dotted and slashed with paint—are 30 feet wide and suspended 25 feet in the air. "I had a desire to make a series of paintings that would begin to express what happens when technology begins to collaborate in artistic creation and disruption...Painting in these ways just wasn't previously possible."
In addition to the creation of paintings that by definition, couldn't be created by the human body alone, we're also fascinated by the reappropriation of technology —arguably designed to hunt and kill—into the creation of art. Through KATSU's adjustments—he basically straps a fire extinguisher-based spray can to its back—he's able use the drone as an extension of his own aesthetic desires. But even Katsu admits his "control" is tenuous:
It’s like 50 percent me having control and 50 percent the drone kind of like saying, ‘I need to turn this way to accomplish what you want me to do but still maintain myself so I don’t just fly into the wall and explode.’ Which it does all the time. —Katsu, in an interview with Bard College’s Center for the Study of the Drone
The drone poseesses a bit of its own agency; it's trying its damnedest to do what it's told, but ultimately brings its own limitations and essence to bear. But make no mistake however; KATSU isn't interested into losing this give-and-take dialogue:
"The use of the drone needs to be half a project of innovation and half a project of expression. In no way will I think programming the drone to go and execute or render a pre-programmed image will ever have more value than these canvases in this painting series that I’ve created now with my direct input...
but I do have this little video game-inspired fantasy of lying in my bed, sending my drones out my bedroom window, having them render my tags all over the city and then flying back home to me, like, in my bed. "
Katsu is also making his designed completely open source so any engineer or drone-hankering artist can expand upon his burgeoning vision and lay waste to some over-sized canvases of their own.
KATSU's work evokes a kind of cyborg vision; the drone has become an extension of his human self. Without KATSU's intention, the drone lays prone on the floor, but without the drone, KATSU would be bound by gravity. It's a dangerous, exhilirating, confusing-as-fuck evolution of art and society that is rapidly re-defining our reality.
Should we all just make like Hunter S. Thompson? Do we buy the ticket and take the ride?