Times—Before and After
The Anthropocene is an epoch, era, or period, perhaps. It occupies a space in time. How does this time window relate to before and after? And how can futures be understood in relation to the times before when we had no Anthropocene to think with? During Anthropocene Campus 2014, this seminar invited participants to find a way of constructing images that could reflexively communicate through these deep expanses of time, leading to the essential question: “When are we?”
What about the deep time of Earth history? What does it hold, in terms of revolutions similar to the one we are facing now? What maps, diagrams, imagery did the deep past produce and how does it resurface in the Anthropocene? Can we imagine that the Anthropocene will cease? What is this exit like? Has anybody imag(in)ed what the return to a non-Anthropocene state would be?
The temporal designation of the Anthropocene sits solidly on a perpetually expanding threshold subject to disciplinary, cultural, and personal persuasions. As the shape of time itself (points, lines, spirals, circles, waves, spheres) can be considered a cultural construct, we assumed time’s conceptual flexibility as a basic element of our investigation. In order to then take some measure of time and visually proclaim “This not that is the Anthropocene!” we worked not only to conceive of ways to distinguish certain bits of time from others, but to communicate across spatiotemporal frameworks. Thus, the particular media of delivery became every bit as important as the content of the message. From this new frame of reference, the question became: From goo as amorphous as time, through media as diverse as human experience, is there a way of actively constructing images that could reflexively communicate through deep expanses of time?
The seminar investigation, although it touched on many more subjects, focused primarily on three potential products: fossils, hands, and holograms.
Fossils
If deep-time communication is the goal, fossils are obvious tools. Intentional fossils could be stratigraphic love notes, buried in a place for some future human(?) to find. If we were to fossilize one specific object to mark this exact moment, what would it be? Should it be a symbolic object newly created for the occasion, or an extant monument—something we would miss? Although certain technological objects embody significant cultural shifts in the patterns of everyday life (i.e. Oldowan handaxe, car, smartphone), we have no inherent mechanism for conveying the objects’ meaning on geological timescales; it dwarfs our faculties for foresight. Considering our role as the active authors of the story, a defining image of today’s Anthropocene would resituate our entire species as animals with a capacity for deep-time communication. Using the fossil as a participatory medium, we can begin to exercise and develop that capacity. A DIY guide to fossilization would allow the independent and continuous preservation of “new” objects, actually crowdsourcing the intentional population of layers of Earth with meaningful materials as markers of our growth. We make technological evolution itself a living record, and encourage temporal literacy; there is joy in the technofossil!
Holograms
A hologram is a dynamic system made static. The hologram simultaneously employs multiple points of view to activate a single entity—be it an object, an image, or an idea. In order to engage explicitly multiplicity as inherent to the human condition, the idea of a holographic reality was central to our investigations. Collective cosmologies, fictions, stories, and imaginaries have validity, not only within the culture that creates them, but also in how one’s perspectives relate to those of others. From this assumption, we attempted to engage “Imaging the Anthropocene” by assembling conflicting projections of our universe into a single, holographic map. By overlaying distinct ideas of reality in one space—imagine braiding strands of scientific theories, holy books, and spiritual rites together—points of view converge to form a unified image of a collective humanity. The hypothetical “image” is compelling as a goal, considering the complementary roles of spiritualities, technological evolution, and storytelling in our relationship[s] to the world around us. Since human experience is constantly evolving, new “layers” are being generated constantly and thus the map will never be complete. But in the end, a holographic map of the universe may be a more beautiful image if left in the mind. After all, as we are in the midst of acknowledging our role in the transformation of the Earth, the designation of the Anthropocene either is super-optimistic, supposing that we last long enough to define an epoch, or heartbreakingly negative.
“WHEN ARE WE?” t-shirt
As we moved deeper and deeper into the fraught territories of universal humanity, we decided to ask a question because an answer seemed impossible. “When are we?” is a provocation. The question evokes an atmosphere of temporal confusion, as if being introduced to the Anthropocene is akin to crash-landing in a foreign time. It is a slogan conceived as a tool to allow atomized conversations to supersede our small group and engage multiple publics. By making it wearable, we make the wearer a docent and allow each individual who reads it to engage, subsequently reflecting and developing a unique position. If we are declaring a new period in Earth’s history, we must ask the essential question: “When are we?”