This is a catalogue essay for In the Epoch of the Near and Far exhibition, curated by Amelia Winata, at Grey Gardens Projects, Melbourne for Channels 2015.
We are in the epoch of simultaneity: we are in the epoch of juxtaposition, the epoch of the near and far, of the side by side, of the dispersed. -Michel Foucault[1]
There is an osmatic interplay between our physical and digital lives. Within post-internet culture, the image of the membrane is intrinsic to an understanding of this fluid interplay. Pushing towards and away from one another, these two realms exist across an extremely permeable barrier which is akin to a mirror in its capacity to absorb and reflect. Beneath the surface of the mirror’s membrane, competing pressures cause hybridisation, augmentation and flips which then fluidly re-enter the physical world. In the Epoch of the Near and Far considers the role of this osmatic physical/digital model in the creation of new meanings from old norms. It is not a comprehensive discussion, but it does identify a model of input/gestation/output common to the heterotopia of the digital. This model exists in a feedback loop, which is continuously flux and ripe now for investigation.
In March 1967, Michel Foucault delivered a lecture entitled ‘Des Espaces Autres’ which would later go on to be published in October 1984 in Architecture/Mouvement/Continuité in October 1984.[2] Entitled, Of Other Spaces: Utopias and Heterotopias in English, this paper’s account of heterotopias pre-empted the multi-faceted temporal and spatial nature of the digital age in which we now live.
Foucault’s heterotopias are described in opposition to utopias. Utopias “are sites with no real place,” while heterotopias, “exist in reality, where it exerts a sort of counteraction on the position that I occupy,” in that it creates a composite of times and/or spaces.[3] These tend to be competing or contradicting spatial and temporal spaces at once.
Building upon this, an understanding of Foucault’s mirror analogy helps to locate cyberspace as a heterotopia. The mirror, says Foucault:
“makes this place that I occupy at the moment when I look at myself in the glass at once absolutely real, connected with all the space that surrounds it, and absolutely unreal, since in order to be perceived it has to pass through this virtual point which is over there.”[4]
Foucault’s statement suggests that there is a real/unreal binary that characterises the heterotopia. The image one sees in the mirror is not physical, it does not truly exist and, therefore, occupies a place of unrealness. However, the mirror also has a simultaneous ‘real’ function – the pressures of the osmotic forces at play – since it forces the individual reflected in the mirror to “reconstitute” themselves within the physical space they are occupying in that moment, by recourse of the utopian (placeless) image in the mirror. This is akin to the space of the digital. The mirror is a permeable membrane and a rich breeding ground for the heterotopia, just as the dimly reflective screen of the iPhone or computer is.
Simultaneity is integral to an understanding of digital technology as heterotopic. Political scientist Dana Badulescu has suggested that the heterotopia’s “composite and indistinct spatiality” is embodied by contemporary phone calls and Facebook chats, which are “neither here nor there, simultaneously physical and mental.”[5] Cyberspace is a mirror in that it is simultaneously a non-space – one can not physically grasp it- and also incorporates real human interactions and behaviour which originates in geographic space. So, not only is the virtual informed by and reflected back onto the physical world, but a number of opposing ideals can exist simultaneously within the virtual space which then reconstitutes the possibilities of their existence when reflected back.
Furthermore, simultaneity exists in the digital in relation to the ‘liminal’ – the actual threshold in our mirror/membrane metaphor. The term liminal derives from the Latin limen meaning ‘threshold’[6] and was originally afforded a theoretical platform by Arnold van Gennep in his 1909 Les Rites de Passages.[7] According to Van Gennep, a transition is characterised by a three-step process of “separation, margin (or limen), and aggregation.”[8] Within the framework of the digital discussion, the ‘separation’ phase of the post-internet condition is the input of information into a virtual, heterotopic space. Secondly, the ‘margin’ phase sees the augmentation of what Foucault calls “simple givens […] private space and public space, between family space and social space” and so forth.[9]

It is significant that these “simple givens” are defined by their opposition because the final stage of transition, leaving the space of the liminal is “aggregation,” a term that suggests that combination of elements. I argue that the aggregation that occurs in the face of digital liminalities is the breakdown of socially accepted norms and definitions, such as public and private. Within the digital realm, the thresholds of certain givens resemble the opposite of their previously determined definition. The private, by way of digital advents like Facebook or Instagram, has now become the public. While public activities, including conversations, have been withdrawn into the space of a Google Hangouts, removing the need for face-to-face interaction. Thus, public and private exist simultaneously while also testing their thresholds.
The creation of liminalities as the membrane of the digital/physical is distinctive in that the aggregation of opposites might result in flips. “Post-Feminism,” for instance, is now superseding second and third wave feminism, as well as negating older notions of the “post” prefix. Derek Conrad Murray observes that this change has been played out analogous to the culture of female selfies that have proliferated in previous years. Prior to this, the term post-feminism embodied the concept that “feminism had achieved its goals.”[10] In other words, the earlier incarnation of post-feminism was defined by its belief that equality of the sexes had been achieved and that feminism, therefore, was no longer necessary. Choosing instead to use it to “redefine the parameters and step out beyond the dogmas of the past,” post-feminism is building upon older waves of feminism through the lens of the digital.[11]
The DIY webcam videos of Petra Cortright represent this new form of post-feminism as discussed by Murray. i feel u (2015), banksi unbrush ponitaeyel (2015) and antipte2 (2011) are indicative of Cortiright’s oeuvre of short-duration webcam videos in which Cortright is the protagonist. The repetitive subject of these videos fit into what Murray argues is “a radical colonization of the visual realm and aggressive reclaiming of the female body.” [12] Thus, The selfie redefines post-feminism by appropriating another opposition – narcissism – imbuing it with a positive connotation of self-empowerment as opposed to regression.[13] It is then combined with repetition to reach full force. Within the context of selfie culture, and exemplified by Cortiright’s work, post-feminism reaches its threshold through means of a definitional flip, whereby it comes to embody that which it once stood in opposition to.
Aaron Christopher Rees Telechiric Loop (2015), conflates subjectivity and objectivity. Unlike the work of Cortright, which negates definition in a single direction, Rees creates a hybrid where opposing ideals-emancipation and surveillance, subjectivity and objectivity – collide and become interchangeable. In the work, a drone follows Rees, a camera attached to it to film his movements. The significance of this increasingly available technology is that Rees is able to view himself from a height and angle that has previously been unknown to him. In this sense, the availability of a new self-view, a certain objectified subjectivity, is emancipating. However, this action is also form of perverse surveillance, held in tension with the emancipatory nature of the artist’s new view of himself. It is impossible to separate this emancipatory quality from the knowledge of the original military use of drones; the notorious killing of civilians in the Middle East as part of America’s “War on Terror.”[14] To this end, the heterotopic function of the drone is a confused dyad of good and evil, emancipation and surveillance.

Heath Franco’s DREAM HOME (2012) employs grotesque imagery to create an unsettling domestic scene which blurs the lines between traditional notions of public and private. The setting of DREAM HOME is a digitalised model house awkwardly superimposed into a dated, sparse and garish domestic scene. However, like a doll house, the contents of the dwelling are quickly revealed, and a myriad of increasingly grotesque characters each played by Franco are revealed as its inhabitants. Clad in cheap costumes, they are clearly all recognisable as the artist. However, they occupy an awkward liminal space where they have ceased to be Franco while also failing to convince in the role of any character. In her essay Return of the Gothic: Digital Anxiety in the Domestic Sphere, Melissa Gronlund contends that a return to the gothic has recently proliferated in post-internet art. It is, according to Gronland, a device for communicating the reorganisation of the domestic space and the subsequent reorganisation of self that has occurred as a result of the internet.[15] She writes that there is a certain anxiety, a “sense of a splintered and recursive need, brought on by the camera, for the self to be actively and constantly performed”[16] culminating in artists employing a new form of gothic as a means of “representing the fears that accompany change.”[17] Indeed, the fear of change is seen in Franco’s work as a fear of the private and public conflation that is occurring today. A sense of constant surveillance, of constantly having to play out characters, is rife in DREAM HOME.