There is nothing virtual about virtual reality.

Anyone who has visited an art museum lately must have recognized the presence of increasing numbers of computers. Cyberspace has begun to co-exist with, or, possibly more diabolically, infiltrated artistic space. The recent exhibition of John Cage's work, at the Philadelphia Museum of Art, is rearranged daily by a computer program based on the I Ching. According to Cage, "the basic idea is that the exhibition would change so much that if you came back a second time, you wouldn't recognize it." (1) Cage's fabled happening has come to be equated with mathematical chance. As a result, the historical exigencies of risk are rendered abstract.

More troublesome to some curators, however, is that so many museums have joined or are planning to join the World Wide Web. This network is a branch of the Internet that contains images, sound, video, and hypertext. With the click of a mouse for example, a viewer can stroll through the Los Angeles County Museum of Art. Through advanced computer techniques, this museum has been recreated in so-called "virtual" space. Art is thus presented in a framework that is intentionally divorced from the physical world. In this regard, according to Esther Dyson, cyberspace "liberates us from the tyranny of government." (2)

David Ross, director of the Whitney Museum of American Art, is concerned that the term virtual is being misused. There is nothing virtual about reality, for, as Ross claims, "reality is reality." (3) His point is that no-one has privileged access to reality; reality is a muddled affair that is replete with lapses, disjunctures, and misinterpretations.

Nonetheless, cyberspace seems a unique phenomenon suggesting to some that the viewer is offered a glimpse at the "ultimate reality" philosophers - not to mention scientists - have sought for centuries. In this case, direct encounters are made possible with art. Art can be surveyed without the disturbances caused by other people, conflicting assessments, political turmoil, or divergent viewpoints. Some critics fear this unmediated portrayal of art will culminate in a false sense of utopia. But as Andre Malraux recommended some time ago, museums should not be transformed into tombs. History should not come to a halt at their doors.

Yet this fate seems to be awaiting art encased in cyberspace. Cut off from daily existence, access to art is contrived. Furthermore, the digitized representations are angular, precise, and intense, but sterile. This hard imagery is stripped of history and the experiences that make art significant. Gone are the sunlight, chance meetings, group reactions, and spontaneous discussions that are a part of most trips to a museum. Seated alone, the viewer is able to peruse images composed of artificially generated light and color. The entire episode is nothing but a simulation. Malraux worried that this travesty could occur in a traditional museum. What would he have thought of art in cyberspace?

Why is cyberspace deemed to be such a threat to art by some curators? The answer is that this form of space represents the fulfillment of a dream to escape from contingency. In terms of modernity, Newton inaugurated this trend by referring to space as the sensorium Dei. Three dimensional space provided a referent for identifying "absolutely" the location of any event. Although Bergson, Einstein, Minkowski, and others have demonstrated the futility of this endeavor, Newton is still thought by many people to have attained a perspective only available previously to God. This rendition of space is thus a powerful symbol.

Those who have charted the "history" of space suggest that Newton's version is too metaphysical to be truly convincing. In short, his work is contaminated by religious concerns. The advent of computer space, however, ushered in a new era. Finally a spatial domain is available which because it lacks speculation, emotion, or reverie can facilitate the identification and deployment of unadulterated information. Computer space is pure and governed by logic, without any interference from non-empirical factors.

Without a doubt, cyberspace is quixotic and fictitious. Reaching this conclusion, however, is very difficult for the public. After all, cyberspace is supposed to embody a vision untrammeled by daily affairs, an image reserved formerly for a select few. In point of fact, the aim of computers is to insert a significant amount of distance between the operator and any task that is undertaken. In this way, efficiency and accuracy are improved, while the triumph of empiricism is complete. Buried behind a melange of hardware and software, circuits and chips, personal traits appear to be unrelated to the successful completion of a project.

Computers convey an idealized form of life, or a picture of what existence could be like if humans were not so frail, susceptible to error, and unreliable. Revealed by cyberspace is the fulfillment of an age-old dream. That is, events can unfold according to the dictates of reason and nothing else. Hence perfection is made to seem near at hand. Marx would have called this vision alienating, although nowadays it is touted to be indicative of progress and pursued.

Most frightening is that cyberspace is given the latitude to overwhelm the mundane world. Provided with an opportunity to cavort with pure rationality, why would anyone choose to remain in a situation that is replete with uncertainty and imperfection? And placing art within this new domain may culminate in the generation of what might be called hyper-reality. Borrowing from Maurice Merleau-Ponty, this designation means that art has nothing to do with reality, but with what could be real. In other words, the true potential of art is revealed as the ability to grasp the core of reality. Art is thus given an unrivaled sense of grandeur.

At first, hyper-realism may seem to be a radical proposal, similar to what Marcuse had in mind when he declared that art is autonomous and can challenge the social and political status quo. But I regard this conclusion as false. The autonomy he refers to originates from human praxis and is able to subvert the reification of any reality. He believes the creativity unleashed by art serves as a reminder that reality is "invented" and can always be changed. Thus, creativity is unpredictable, defies objectification, and therefore can inspire revolutionary acts.

An opposite aim is achieved by hyper-realism. Whatever is presented in cyberspace is assumed to represent an outgrowth of the evolution of rationality. Quotidian existence is nothing but the instantiations of this paragon of reason. (4) Baudrillard described this process when he declares that in a hyper-real world "the model comes first." Persons are thus placed in a position that is ancillary to this realization; merely a spectacle and awe are engendered. Watch as persons attribute to the computer idealized traits and abilities they wished they possessed! A reality emerges from cyberspace that overshadows and diminishes human desires and skills. In some ways, these hopes and capacities are shown to be jejune and silly. Why strive for perfection, and devote attention to ethical and philosophical issues, when these activities only obscure the processes unfolding in cyberspace?

Through the intercession of cyberspace, art is deanimated. For example, absent is the explosiveness of Pollock, the mystery of Rothko, the irony of Johns, or the frustration of Picasso. Even the wonder stimulated by a traditional and realistic landscape is missing from cyberspace. A virtual art is unveiled that owes its existence to the mastery of technique. Nothing could be more foreign to this than Kandinsky's reminiscences about the ecstasy that moves the artist's soul. Art made the world more alive for Kandinsky, which is something that cannot be said about the visions protruding from cyberspace.

Many lessons may be lost when art becomes virtual in cyberspace. These are perennial humanistic themes, which tend to be obscured when the focus is on technical expertise. Irony, mystery, and commitment, not to mention sacrifice, are treated as nuisances. Indeed, the strength of technical decisions is that they are allegedly value-free. Virtual art is not engaged, to use Sartre's term, but simply received and manipulated. In the end, persons may even begin to confuse these activities with creativity. Manipulating images, whose origin has been intentionally obscured, may be mistaken for the risk and wager that make art memorable.

A host of writers, both past and present, have discussed the conservative impact of technology. Particularly noteworthy is that the human presence is neutralized, due to the ability of technology to disperse praxis. As Jacques Ellul asserts, technology "automatically eliminates every non-technical activity or transforms it into a technical activity." (5) Without this alteration, there would be no advantage to utilizing technology. Human error would continue with no increase in productivity. Therefore, praxis is transformed into technical instructions and procedures, which are predictable and do not threaten social or political traditions.

Sequestering art in a museum is bad enough, in that this activity is localized and easily controlled. Consigning art to cyberspace, however, may be worse. Most important is that art may be moved further than ever from daily existence, thereby thoroughly undermining the impact of artists. Art may become simply another source of opposition to be rendered impotent by technology.

The purpose of this conclusion is not to suggest that all art is revolutionary. Certainly there have been many artists, both in terms of style and philosophy, who labored to mimic reality and make events appear more than real. Nonetheless, many others have tried to liberate human senses from reality, in order to enrich persons by encouraging them to reinvent the world. These are the artists who may be harmed by aligning art and cyberspace. And in a world where enthusiasm and change are waning, and possibly seen as frivolous, the loss of another source of criticism and inspiration should be avoided.

REFERENCES

1. "Rolywholyover A Circus." Museum Brochure, Philadelphia Museum of Art. June 4-July 30,1995.

2. Dyson, Esther, "If you Don't Love it, Leave it." The New York Times Magazine, July 16, 1995, p.27.

3. Sand, Michael, "Who's Afraid of Cyberspace?", Tate: The Art Magazine 6 (Summer), 1995, p.37.

4. Kellner, Douglas, Jean Baudrillard: From Marxism to Postmodernism and Beyond. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1989, p.83.

5. Ellul, Jacques, The Technological Society. New York: Vintage Press, 1964, p. 83.

John W. Murphy is Professor of Sociology at the University of Miami. His works include Post Modern Social Analysis and Criticism.