Reading: Process Art and Generative Art Under Scrutiny: A Glimpse into the World of Cybernetic Art
Reading: Social Sculpture in the Context of Process Art, Generative Art, and Cybernetics

2025 Radiotopia in Taiwan - Tapei


2024/25 Daily Broadcasts Infolab Bakensender using WSPR on Shortwave (WSPR-Technologie) and FAX via satellite (This image transmission was invented 20 years before the telephone). An attempt is being made to receive the WSPR signals in Taiwan with only 2 watts of transmission power in Austria. 3hr Reports


2024 Radiotopia in Paris La General
2022 Radiotopia at anual show in Stadtwerkstatt Linz: STWST48x8
2022 Radiotopia in Hamburg at MS Stubnitz: Radiotopia Stubnitz 2022
2021 Radiotopia at Eleonore STWST48x7

2024- daily transmissions Infolab Beacon
2012 Radio Art Beacon 2012
1993 Kinetische Skulpturen im Mhz-Bereich Fernsehen der 3. Art
1993 Stadtwerkstatt Medienkontext: 1993 ARGE Freie Frequenzen - Offene Kanäle

When we think of sculpture, we usually envision spatial objects that we can perceive visually or through touch. Yet, by incorporating the electromagnetic realm, we open up a field that challenges our classic understanding of “materiality” and “form.” Vibrations, waves, and fields become artistic media that, although invisible, do in fact have a physical presence and can be measured, modified, and sometimes even made sensorially perceptible.

A process that renders the oscillations of an electromagnetic field visible or audible might be imagined as a kind of “dynamic sculpture”—an artwork whose “form” is not found in a fixed volume, but rather in a constant interplay of radiation fields, electrical impulses, and spatial resonance. Unlike conventional sculptures, no static shape can be defined here; instead, the piece continually evolves in response to shifting external influences (temperature, humidity, movement in the space, or visitor interaction) as well as internal parameters (frequency, amplitude, signal strength).

In this concept, Process Art and cybernetic art all but merge into one. An electromagnetic field defined as a “sculpture” could, for example, be regulated and modulated by sensors and feedback loops: It receives signals from its environment and subsequently alters its own parameters, which can then be measured or even experienced directly—through sound, light, or vibration. The audience would not simply view a static sculpture; rather, they would witness a perpetually transforming process whose “form” is continuously defined over time and through interaction.

Because electromagnetic fields themselves are invisible to the naked eye, some form of translation is generally required. Radio waves could be turned into sound, light signals into projected color patterns, or electromagnetic impulses into vibrating surfaces. Artistic works that transfer this invisible realm into a visible or audible dimension not only broaden the concept of sculpture but also test our notion of presence. Instead of shaping solid material, here the artist is “shaping” a field—one that is dynamic, intangible, and all the more compelling for how it subtly interacts with us and our surroundings.

The notion of vibration leads naturally to the concept of resonance. An electromagnetic sculpture could be designed to react to the frequencies in its environment, perhaps even to visitors’ bodies. The result would be a sensory interplay in which the boundary between artwork and viewer becomes blurred, and the aesthetic experience arises from the immediate, processual movement in the field. Especially in an era when we increasingly communicate via invisible networks such as Wi-Fi, mobile signals, and Bluetooth, such an artwork could poetically reflect on how we exist within a constant web of electromagnetic radiation—often without consciously noticing.

It can be stated that the oscillations of an electromagnetic field through a process-based motion and thereby create a new form of sculpture. Such an “electromagnetic sculpture” would not only be an art object but also an open system, continually re-forming its character in response to location, time, and interaction—a direct extension of the ideas of Process Art and cybernetic art in the realm of space.

Imagine a sculpture whose form is not dictated by traditional materials like bronze or stone, but by the laws of physics—specifically, the parameters of an antenna. That involves half-wave lengths, the speed of light, and electromagnetic resonance, concepts more commonly associated with electrical engineering than with art. Yet this intersection opens an intriguing dialogue between science and aesthetics: an antenna that can function as a “haptic sculpture,” where its physical proportions—length, curvature, diameter—are determined by the natural laws governing the emission and reception of electromagnetic waves.

At its core, such a sculpture serves as an interface between us and an otherwise invisible realm. Where traditional sculptures have tangible, visible presence in a gallery, electromagnetic fields remain unseen, intangible. By contrast, an antenna can capture or emit waves, making the invisible potentially “felt” or perceived if translated into sound, image, or vibration. The fact that half-wave lengths and the speed of light come into play here is more than a minor technical detail—it’s the very key to understanding the sculpture’s form. An antenna must be precisely dimensioned for its operating frequencies so that resonance occurs; in other words, when form aligns with frequency, maximum energy exchange takes place.

For the artist, this introduces a dual engagement: a formally aesthetic exploration, but also a scientific one that delves into wave phenomena. The end result is an object with sculptural qualities—something you can look at or even touch—yet it simultaneously connects with electromagnetic fields, bridging a domain typically reserved for radio engineering.

Ideally, this form functions on two levels. On one hand, it’s a “classical sculpture,” physically present in the space. On the other, it acts as a “transmitter and receiver” in a complex network of waves, frequencies, and feedback loops. In doing so, the antenna becomes a tangible interface for something normally abstract and intangible. It is precisely this tension between material presence and invisible natural laws—governed by half-wave lengths, the speed of light, and other physical principles—that makes this kind of artwork so compelling.

One can easily picture an exhibition-goer not just viewing the piece but also listening, via headphones, to signals captured by the antenna, or seeing a visual representation of a particular frequency range. In this manner, the gallery space is experienced on two overlapping levels: the physical exhibition space and the electromagnetic field, constantly interacting with the sculpture. This duality—matter and waves, visible and invisible—creates a fresh type of artistic experience and adds unexpected depth to the very notion of sculpture.

In this sense, the antenna as a haptic sculpture becomes a hybrid: simultaneously a technical instrument and an artwork, a scientific artifact and an aesthetic form. It renders the invisible realm accessible or at least “readable,” raising the question of where the sculpture ends and the field begins. Perhaps that boundary has now evolved into one expansive interface in which the laws of physics and human creativity converge in a new, shared language.