Studio Hanniball’s upcoming group show in Berlin, "Do Cyborgs Dream Of Electric Sheep," navigates a terrain where art intersects with the profound questions of existence, identity, and the boundaries of human experience.
Featuring the works of Johannes Bosisio, Alex Clayton, Nassim L'Ghoul, and Sally von Rosen, this exhibition positions itself at the fulcrum of our contemporary dialogues about technology, humanity, and the metaphysical.
At its core, the exhibition probes the tension between knowledge and belief, science and faith. The conceptual framework suggests an intricate dialogue between tradition and innovation, exploring the paradoxes inherent in our cultural psyche. As we project human traits onto other sentient beings—primates, whales, and now, artificial intelligence—we find ourselves in a complex dialogue with the unknown. Do these other entities share our capacity for culture, language, and emotion, or do they reside in an entirely different existential plane?
In an era where artificial intelligence is not only a tool but a potential creator, the exhibition grapples with the unsettling possibility of robots encroaching upon the sacred domain of human creativity. This anxiety, fed by dystopian narratives in literature and film, mirrors broader societal uncertainties. Yet, it also invites a reexamination of long-standing definitions: What does it mean to be human? Are gender and identity purely social constructs, or do they have an intrinsic essence?
The artists featured in "Do Cyborgs Dream Of Electric Sheep" engage these questions through a diverse array of media and techniques, bridging the old and the new. Their works challenge viewers to confront their perceptions of creation and creator, echoing the eternal ambiguity encapsulated in Mary Shelley’s "Frankenstein." The confusion between Frankenstein the scientist and Frankenstein’s monster underscores a deeper ontological uncertainty—a reflection of our own mixed identities as both creators and creations in a rapidly evolving world.
In contemplating our place in the universe, we find ourselves oscillating between awe and alienation, much like the creatures we study and the technologies we build. The exhibition not only questions our uniqueness but also our commonalities with other beings, whether biological or artificial. By doing so, it asks us to reconsider the essence of what we seek in art: an essential truth that binds us to both the primal and the futuristic, the known and the unknowable.
"Do Cyborgs Dream Of Electric Sheep" thus becomes a mirror reflecting our deepest curiosities and fears. It challenges us to embrace the mystery of existence, to find wonder in the lightning and grief in the whale’s song, and to ponder whether the line between creator and creation is as clear as we once thought.
