Search

Search content of the knowledge base.

The search found 4 results in 0.009 seconds.

Search results

  1. its name was Penelope

    The generative hyperfiction its name was Penelope is a collection of memories in which a woman photographer recollects the details of her life.

    Like a photos in a photo album, each lexia represents a picture from the narrator's memory, so that the work is the equivalent of a pack of small paintings or photographs that the computer continuously shuffles. The reader sees things as she sees them and observes her memories come and go in a natural, yet nonsequential manner that creates a constantly changing order -- like the weaving and reweaving of Penelopeia's web.

    Begun in 1988, the work was exhibited in a computer-mediated artists book version at the Richmond Art Center in Richmond, California in 1989. It has been re-created through the years. Four versions have been identified by Dene Grigar, in Rebooting Electronic Literature: Documenting Pre-Web Born Digital Media: 

    Version 1.0: "The exhibition version." Created in 1989 with Malloy's own generative hypertext authoring system, Narrabase II, in BASIC on a 3.5-inch floppy disk

    Eric Dean Rasmussen - 24.02.2011 - 09:30

  2. Saving the Alphabet

    This subtly haunting poem tells the story of how each letter from the alphabet disappeared, or was made to disappear, by corporations obeying a secret agenda. The conspiracy theory overtones are underscored by the use of sound, a short loop of metallic whispering wind or water and a handful of soft musical notes. Clicking on each letter on the left hand column will take you to the corresponding letter and narrative of its disappearance, with the large letter disappearing as you read the accompanying text, but it also starts a slower, almost imperceptible, fading process of those letters in the entire work. If you click through quickly and read the whole poem you may not even notice, but step away for a minute and you’ll find that the letters you have read have disappeared from all the language in the poem and the result may be challenging to read (see image below). This more than anything provides a visceral impact, as we try to read a barely functional language mutilated by loss of letters.

    (Source: Leonardo Flores)

    Patricia Tomaszek - 26.05.2011 - 14:02

  3. P.o.E.M.M.

    A compilation of broken poems, P.o.E.M.M. Poems for Excitable [Mobile] Media is designed explicitly for mobile media. The poems cannot be read without touching the screen, an experience that creates excitable stimulation. The letters and words of the poems float in the background, waiting for the user to snatch them up with their fingers. One line at a time, the user can grab the words and align them on the screen. The lines can be arranged in any order, and so the user must piece together both their meaning and the structure. Lewis and Nadeau built the interface filled by these works and poets: “What They Speak When They Speak to Me” by Jason E. Lewis, “Character” by Jim Andrews, “Let Me Tell You What Happened This Week” by David Jhave Johnston, “Muddy Mouth” by JR Carpenter, “The Color of Your Hair Is Dangerous” by Aya Karpinska. Annotated by Greg Philbrook.

    (Source: Description from the Electronic Literature Exhibition catalogue)

    Meri Alexandra Raita - 05.02.2012 - 16:22

  4. Afeeld

    Afeeld is a full-length collection of playable intermedia and concrete art compositions that exist in the space between poetry and videogames. It was published as a 'Digital Original' by the Collaboratory for Digital Discourse and Culture at Virginia Tech in 2017.

    Eric Dean Rasmussen - 26.04.2012 - 16:42