Our Invisible World

Imagined parallel worlds of science fiction and fantasy are often artistic extensions of psychological and cultural traumas derived from technology, capitalism, and luxury superseding value in human interactions, sincerity, and labor. In The Wizard of Oz by Frank Baum, the realm of Oz is both a parallel universe that exists on earth contemporaneous to Kansas but is also Dorothy’s fantastical physiological breakdowns that represents her disjointed internalization of the bourgeoning urban world competing with the rural. Our internal need to place concepts in a single time and space is a modern struggle that existed prior to and continues to persist as much today as in the time of Marshall McLuhan’s observation that “we actually live mythically and integrally… but we continue to think in the old fragmented space and time patterns of the electric age” (4). Oz is an example of the psychological complications that result from technology adding variability to time and space, and therefore to communication, independent of a purely natural and mechanical reality.

In Neil Gaiman’s science fiction novel, Neverwhere, London Below exists as the parallel underworld that is not only home to fantastical and historical beings but also to humans who, in London Above (modern London), are of the lowest classes and are therefore physically invisible. Economic and cultural visibility corresponds to physical visibility implying that divergence in cultural ideology can separate one world into autonomous realms of time and space. In our current world, those who live physically, culturally, and psychologically underground and at the margins follow their own ideologies and patterns of problems and solutions.

The plethora of ideologies and lifestyles that encompasses such deviance derives from the assumption that we live at the fore, and therefore at the most advanced point, of one linear time. With more choices, differences, and extremes, we are blind to much more and much more exists strongly and independently of mass knowledge.

Theoretically, as long as one has access to a computer or an internet device, exposure to representations of other economic, religious, political, social, and identity realities is infinite. Our world becomes smaller and more inclusive but with the price tags of 1. privacy loss and 2. cultural fractions through consistently reinforcing self-identification. Surveillance, unknown ignorance, hierarchy, and narcissism become the evils in a world condensed into wires and code. Thus paranoia and fear are enacted in daily tasks to both maintain privacy and reinforce identity through usernames and passwords. Daily searches act as diary entries of our own thought flow. The internet allows us to live in our individual realities since survival is not dependent on adherence to one cultural narrative. We seek out people like us more easily and stay in touch while living amongst a sea of others.

The theme of technology-driven apocalyptic parallel worlds is most famously exemplified in Blade Runner from 1982 and each day becomes more relevant as evidenced by the recent popular films, Wall-E and Avatar, which are critical of our approaches to consumption and technology. We live in parallel worlds facilitated by mis-education, economic difference, and political confusion especially regarding our planet’s fate and the environmental impact of daily human creations and purchases. Even though planned-obsolescent machines are taken to recycling centers all over the US, the materials and chemicals are noxiously burning in China, causing severe health problems and possible atmospheric harm. In the Pacific Ocean, the Great Pacific Garbage Patch is a dystopic glimpse of a new type of landscape built from the side effects of our material decisions. These unpopular worlds exist but their sites and derivations are undervalued and therefore invisible.


Cited Works

Baum, Frank. The Wizard of Oz. London: CRW Publishing Limited, 1900.

Gaiman, Neil. Neverwhere. New York: Harpertorch, 1996.

McLuhan, Marshall. Understanding Media: The Extension of Man. Cambridge: The MIT Press, 1994.

Evolving Parallel

The concept of parallel worlds directly relates to my art practice. In my work I depict clashing environments that might normally be perceived as opposite and perhaps unrelated. My work moves to reveal the intersections between these ecosystems that might normally be overlooked, bending parallel lines into a cross-section matrix. A couple years ago I actually began this book project titled Parallel Universe in which I created drawings of organisms that are hybrids of two or more forms. The first drawing in the book is a combination of a jellyfish and a sponge. They are similar systems in that they are colonies of organisms that make up what appears to be a singular form, in unison. Jellyfish and sponges generally live totally separate lives, yet often in the same space (ocean water), not interacting as far as we know (and how mysterious they are to us—like aliens).  The idea is that the separate organisms are living and existing parallel to one another, side by side, yet mirror like. They both live in water, are both colonies of cells which become specialized into different parts, both have jelly-like textures, both exhibit polyp forms (many jellyfish in their juvenile state are polyps attached to rocks much like sponges), among other traits and habits. The hybrid drawing creates a super-form of the two, bridging the gaps between their existences to exhibit their likenesses—and in turn differences. Their realities and existences are merged, making two parallel existences one.

Many of the organisms featured involve a symbiotic relationship. For instance, “Ant Plant” depicts a carnivorous pitcher plant which gives an ant colony a home within its structure and sweet nectar to eat, while simultaneously dissolving them for fertilizer, only at the same rate the ant reproduce. The ecosystem is generally balanced and self contained. This is a combination carnivorous plant and various ‘ant plants’, which are plants in our reality that provide homes for ants in their roots. These two plants, the carnivorous plant and the ant plant are not generally regarded as related, except for their usage of insects. Evolutionary they present similar mechanisms for survival, yet oppositely—the carnivorous is not symbiotic, yet the ant plant is. On a smaller scale, the ants have their separate reality of the space, and the plant its own. This is an example of where we might think spaces or consciousnesses might be running parallel, when, depending on perspective (perhaps from the outside), they might appear to be more of a matrix, with parallel parts in between.  

There is a term called ‘parallel evolution’, which describes two separate organisms that have essentially no contact with each other, and develop evolutionarily into having similar traits. This is something I am very interested in and which appears in my work quite frequently. I think it is ironic that we can believe things to be unrelated because of historical, ecological circumstances (according to parallel evolution), despite obvious similarities. When one gets deep into relationships between organisms, taxonomy appears completely arbitrary. This is the paradox of parallel worlds and perception. 

Celeste M. Evans 

New Media and its Parallel Worlds

The concept of a parallel world frequently is associated with fiction or a circumstance separated from reality in some way. However the concept of a parallel world can be intrinsically linked to a space between fact and fiction, where reality and fantasy interact to create a discourse that ultimately breaks down the binary distinction between true and false in favor of a more subjective viewpoint in which to view society and its constructs. The history of photography and New Media at the end of the 19^th century in America is a clear example of the construction of parallel worlds that existed within the realms of scientific discovery and paranormal experience.

With the invention of the microscope and telescope at the turn of the seventeenth century came an expansion of vision, encompassing the microscopic world of cells to macroscopic images of the universe. The enhancement of the human eye produced what Tom Gunning, a historian of media, calls a “sense of vertigo” as “the finite visible and tangible world of material things was transformed into the mere surface of an infinite universe; the microscope and telescope revealed a limitless expanding, and decentered space in which science reigned” (“Invisible” 53). As the microscope and telescope became more widely used as scientific tools, perceptions of the world began to shift, marking the beginning process of an expanding worldview centered around optical technologies.

            In the early nineteenth century the invention of the daguerreotype and similar photographic technologies which fixed images to metal and glass (calotypes, cyanotypes, ambrotypes, and ferrotypes) led to another shift of perspective as the photograph presented a frozen moment in time, created by light rather than the human hand. Science, which previously relied on drawings to depict observed phenomena, heralded photography as an empirical tool. Photography’s ability to capture instantaneous phenomena along with the improved accuracy over drawings created a shift in the perception of photographs within the discourse of science. The move in science from drawing to photography granted photography legitimacy as a form of scientific evidence.

Photography, perceived as objective truth and revealing an invisible world, became simultaneously magical and scientific and its veracity was fully established when used in combination with the microscope and telescope, bringing the unseen micro and macroscopic into public view. As Gunning notes, “microscopic and telescopic photography combined new technologies of vision capable of recording as well as enlarging and also made the scientist’s vision widely accessible for the first time via classroom and public lectures” (“Invisible” 54). Thus the microscope and telescope, united with photography, became verifiable objective tools of science whose images and owing to the reproducibility of photographs, could be spread into the public. Photography, no longer bound to the visible world, could produce images of the invisible world previously limited to scientists.

            Scientific photographs helped create and became a part of what Gunning has termed a “widespread culture of display and demonstration” in which scientific progress, through education or entertainment, was examined by a mass audience (“Invisible” 52). The public, granted access to scientific knowledge, was able to experience firsthand the effects of the broadening of perspective and worldview that accompanied scientific change. As media historian Jeffrey Sconce observes, “…an early fascination in American culture with fantastic media technology has gradually given way to a fascination with forms of fantastic textuality” (10). Photography provided concrete evidence for the now infinite world made visible, spurring public interest in science.

The Spiritualist movement, most famously known for spirit photography and séances, combined this interest with science with the spiritual, exhibiting and promoting the idea of a parallel world in which spirits operate. This spirit realm was conceivable because the micro and macroscopic became parallel worlds to observable physical reality, existing in flux alongside but somehow separate from the perceivable, so fantastic interpretations by the general public of science, technology, the future, and spirituality became acceptable and in certain places commonplace. The association of new media with the fantastic began with photography and remains an observable phenomenon today, creating a field of parallel worlds in which fact and fiction intertwine.

Works Cited/Bibliography

Collins, Jo, and John Jervis. “Introduction.” Uncanny Modernity: Cultural Theories, Modern Anxieties. Ed. Jo Collins and John Jervis. New York, NY: Palgrave Macmillan, 2008. 1-9.

Connor, Steven. “The Machine in the Ghost: Spiritualism, Technology and the ‘Direct Voice’.” Ghosts: Deconstruction, Psychoanalysis, History. Ed. Peter Buse and Andrew Stott. New York, NY: Macmillan, 1999.

Gunning, Tom. "Invisible Worlds, Visible Media." Brought to Light. Ed. Corey Keller. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2008. 52-63.

Gunning, Tom. “Phantom Images and Modern Manifestations: Spirit Photography, Magic Theater, Trick Films, and Photography’s Uncanny.” Fugitive Images: From Photography to Video. Ed. Patrice Petro. Indianapolis, IN: Indiana University Press, 1995. 42- 71.

Gunning, Tom. “Uncanny Reflections, Modern Illusions: Sighting the Modern Optical Uncanny.” Uncanny Modernity: Cultural Theories, Modern Anxieties. Ed. Jo Collins and John Jervis. New York, NY: Palgrave Macmillan, 2008. 68-90.

Nelson, Geoffrey. Spiritualism and Society. New York, NY: Schocken Books, 1969.

Sconce, Jeffrey. Haunted Media: Electronic Presence from Telegraphy to Television. Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2000.

Parallel Worlds: Necessary Distractions in the Workplace

Sitting at my office desk for the n^th hour now, I relish in my escape into the outside world: google chat. My sister messages me about a silly story regarding a long lost friend. This mutual friend of ours dropped out of med school, or graduated, or broke up with her long-term boyfriend. Who knows. The details of the story are irrelevant; the telling is what counts. Editing a press release about yet another group show, I receive one IM after another. Apparently she couldn’t handle the workload, or they were just too different to last.

My colleague next to me interrupts to ask a few questions about the installation plan in the gallery downstairs. I login to the office server and pull up the floor plan, which I immediately send to her via Dropbox. Soon after, my sister changes topics and starts to describe the wonderful lunch she had today. An email pops up. It’s my sister, sending me information about a Lebanese artist featured in the latest ArtForum. I download the attached article and start to read. A text tells me I have dinner plans tonight as my colleague, now downstairs, emails another question. I respond via email; I confirm dinner plans via text. My editing job is complete. This Lebanese artist is deemed groundbreaking. It is now time to sign off.

Communication as parallel worlds, where these worlds are not distinct from one another, but form a constellation of realities that often touch, bump, and blend. When I step inside an enclosed space-- this office-- I know that I am easily about to reach out and experience the outside world via communication technology. I am also asked to multitask to an almost dangerous degree, where the slightest mishap may unravel this entire web. This ability, both a gift and a poison, speed up my life, entertain my days and require an amplified version of the person I think I should be. I’d stop to reflect on this, but I don’t have the time. I head home, trying my hardest not to pick up the phone and text while driving.