Questioning Meaning Through ‘Electric Dreams’ of the Pre-Internet Era

Life without the Internet now seems practically impossible. Like it or not, artificial intelligence is on its way to alter every industry, including the arts. But before being online became the default, there was an era when computer technology was emerging, yet unfamiliar to most. 

Described as "[o]ne of Tate Modern’s most ambitious exhibitions to date", Electric Dreams: Art and Technology Before the Internet transports visitors to those very moments. By the late 1960s, forward-looking artists not only welcomed electronics into their homes but also weaved them into their works. Their installations used pixels, lights, and geometric shapes to play with people's senses and to convey unconventional ideas about the future.

The exhibition reflects the United Nations Sustainable Development Goal of Industry, Innovation, and Infrastructure, spotlighting pioneers who experimented with early digital media. This global shift in practice expanded both the definition of art and the accessibility of its creation. Electric Dreams raises questions about the role of machines in human creativity, which remain ever relevant in the current age of AI-generated art.

Among these early digital creators is British artist Suzanne Treister, whose Fictional Videogame Stills explored the pleasures and perils of living a parallel existence through pixels. She recalled the experience that sparked this series:

"From the mid to late 1980s I spent a lot of time hanging around video game arcades in London. I started to think about the games, their structures, their objectives, their themes, their addictiveness . . . From 1989 I started making paintings about them and in January 1991 I bought an Amiga computer and made a series of fictional videogame stills using Deluxe Paint II. I photographed them straight from the screen."

The style and resolution in Fictional Videogame Stills may appear alien to today’s eyes, but the images are still mesmerizing, like a mirror inviting viewers to reflect on their own digital lives. 

Looking further back to 1969, KD 29 — Artificial Mondrian is a tribute to Dutch artist Piet Mondrian, known for his grid compositions using black lines and primary colours. The work was hand-painted by Japanese philosopher Hiroshi Kawano, who was among the first in the world to experiment with computer-generated art. Using the programming language FORTRAN, Kawano created an algorithm that determined how often and in what position a colour would most likely appear in Mondrian’s paintings. He translated these probabilities into random variables to generate new images, leading to the specific shapes and colours in KD 29.

In contrast, Croatian cybernetician Vladimir Bonačić challenged the idea of copying existing art. In his 1971 paper Arts as function of subject, cognition and time, he wrote:

"[T]he computer must not be just a means for the simulation of the existing in a new form. There should be no computer painting in the manner of Mondrian or composing in the manner of Beethoven. The computer provides us new contents, reveals a new world to us."

Bonačić also critiqued the concept of true randomness in computer-generated art. His Random 63 installation, composed of 63 electric lamps activated by independent switches, was unique in following a truly random sequence. His other computer-generated light installations, or “dynamic objects”, explored pseudo-randomness through the use of Galois fields in algebra. Despite appearing random to the viewer, these works still involved some semantics through mathematical structures.

A dimly lit room houses two more math-inspired installations: Lattice B and Opposite Circle, devised by Tatsuo Miyajima in the early 1990s. Look closely to see LED numbers flickering from 1 to 9 at varying rhythms, symbolizing the cyclical nature of life. Much of Miyajima’s art is rooted in three guiding principles in Eastern and Buddhist philosophy: ‘keep changing’, ‘connect with everything’ and ‘continue forever’. He sought to create art that captures an evolving reality, resonates across diverse audiences, and evokes a sense of timelessness.

Altogether, these works in Electric Dreams underscore the power of timeless, interdisciplinary exploration, as present-day art and technology look to ancient disciplines of mathematics and philosophy. In a society that demands specialization, Electric Dreams encourages visitors to consider how countless concepts are connected and reflected in different fields. For instance, is the pseudo-randomness found in software really so different from the supposed twists of fate people stumble upon in everyday life?

Though the immersive pieces span the late 20th century, this exhibition offers more than a nostalgic look back, but a reminder that this is just another beginning. The sense of excitement, mixed with skepticism and existentialism, about where technology is headed next was felt by these artists, and continues to be felt by so many today. Computers have irrevocably enhanced and complicated the world in ways that are still overwhelming to grasp. Surely, there is something cyclical, almost magical, maybe even meaningful, about existing within these Electric Dreams.