"Gretchen Andrew"
Published in Umbigo Magazine #78
October 2021
27.05.2021
Short bio:
Gretchen Andrew (Los Angeles, USA, 1988) is a self-proclaimed search engine and internet imperialist artist. She studied Information Theory in order to become a software engineer, but soon gave up her job at Google to become an artist and train alongside Billy Childish (2012-2017), in London. Having finished her unusual arts education, she published “Search Engine” through the V&A Museum, where she gathered works of artists who are engaged with the internet. Gretchen/Andrew currently lives between Los Angeles and London, where she is represented by the Annka Kultys Gallery.
The internet, unlike human beings, does not parse facts from relevance. Starting with her vision boards, Gretchen Andrew strategically creates digital content, in order to con the internet into believing that the information she is uploading online is the truth AFS. She has hacked into institutions such as Frieze Los Angeles, The Whitney Biennial, The Turner Prize and The Cover of Artforum.
Her new solo show, “Trust Boundary”, will be held in October at Francisco Carolinum, Linz, Austria.
Selected quotes from the interview:
“…..I think that having more art programmed into AI, more art on the internet and thinking about the internet as a creative medium is very beneficial, both to our own brains and to the brains of AI.”
“.....I'm a woman; I love Taylor Swift; I wish I was a ballerina; I sometimes dream of being a mermaid. And that doesn't mean that I'm not powerful and technically capable.”
“I want to acknowledge that the tools that I use to achieve these internet manifestations are used by other people for much darker, more sinister, much more controlling ways. And I do that by calling myself an imperialist.”
“I am more powerful than I look and that makes, or should make, people a little bit nervous about the state of the world and about me. I think that's fun. Super fun.”
Benedita Menezes: As per your biography on your personal website, you see yourself as a “search engine”. Can you explain what that entails in regard to your practice?
Gretchen Andrew: When I was looking to define and bring people along into my process, I invented a couple of terms that I think provide entryways into what is a very digital, conceptual, painting-based practice. I call myself a “search engine artist” because this term nails into one of the unique aspects of my practice, which is that I use algorithms, specifically the search engine, as collaborator and co-creator within my process. In my work I manipulate the Google search engine (and search engines in general,) to make it look like everything that I want has already been accomplished. There's an understanding for humans that I'm talking about aspiration, but Google and technology in general interpret as accomplished facts. So it allows me to play in this space of fake news and online truth in a way that shows humans how complex the truth really is. There isn’t just true and false. There’s hope, fear and aspiration.
BM: You spoke of truth and falsehood. Is this process of desiring something, creating content that supports it and then seeing it become an “internet truth” your way of taking vengeance on a world where those wishes couldn’t happen? Or a hope that they will?
GA: I like to say it's the “not-yet-true”. It's an aspirational truth. Taking a step back, historically, art's relationship to truth has always been very unique. There's an understanding that when a work is created, it's somebody's truth, it's somebody's way of seeing the world. That sort of nuance, passion and perspective is something that art does fabulously well, and that technology does fabulously terribly. It's one of the reasons why I think that having more art programmed into AI, more art on the internet and thinking about the internet as a creative medium is very beneficial, both to our own brains and to the brains of AI. It's not black and white. Truth in art is more about its relationship to beauty and to perspective, metaphor and symbolism. Not all truth is factual, scientific truth.
BM: Everytime you hack into a research engine, it picks up on your desires and turns them into an accomplished reality, because it is not able to parse desires, only relevance. Is that enough for you? Are you content with seeing your work come up in the first results of “contemporary art auction record” instead of having it happen AFK?
GM: I want both! As I'm making these works, I am embodying that aspiration. I am imagining what that's going to be like someday. By creating this world on canvas, I'm visualizing it. I'm feeling all of those feelings that I want to feel and thinking about why this is something that I want and what it will be like when I get it. Is this what I really need to feel happy or to feel like I belong? Strangely, it keeps me present and helps dissolve some of the worry that can come with having an art career. You're as successful as you feel.
BM: Once photographed, your vision boards become these pre-nft images, traditional in the sense that they are exact digital reproductions of physical works. These images then circulate the internet as viruses, at your control. Is the transportative process from AFK works to photographs that which gives the work the ability to become a virus?
GA: Great question. Viruses, at least from a computer perspective, but also from an RNA perspective, are code. They're what gets carried. And so the thing that allows my vision boards to become this virus is the code that gets applied to the image. And some of that's metadata, some of that's HTML, some of that's SEO or natural language processing. The code is the virus. And that's what allows images to spread viciously throughout the internet. And then the relationship goes back to the physical pieces.
BM: What happens to the AFK pieces? Do they become useless?
GA: What happens to the vision board after the artificial intelligence manipulation starts occurring is how my practice extends into other realms. The vision boards aren't an unfinished art piece. They are one of the many outputs of a practice that is conceptual, digital and performative. And they also very intentionally work in a way where they can act as viruses within the art world as well, because they are unique. They display very well at a gallery. They work really well in traditional settings. They check all of these boxes for traditional fetishized art objects, but still have this very digital and conceptual life. And that relates to my desire to make work on canvas, coming from a painting tradition, but also from my desire to have a contemporary art practice.
BM: Your artistic practice lives in, manipulates and feeds on search engines. Do you ever feel that you are closer to being a machine than a human being?
GA: I spend a lot of time speaking to machines and that prepares me for some of the vulnerability of speaking to people directly. And because part of my process is to talk over and over again about what I want to talk about, or to type what I want into Google, into Yelp, into SoundCloud, YouTube, Pinterest, I've gotten practice with the vulnerability of wanting and the vulnerability of desire. Desire is so interpersonal, so human, so physical... To say that you want something is also to admit that you don't have it, especially talking about professional aspirations and the art world. Now it's become a bit more comfortable because I've reached a level of success and notoriety where it feels more reasonable that I want to represent the United States of America at the Venice Biennial, or to have a contemporary art auction record. This was a process of vulnerability that I became more familiar with by talking to machines.
BM: You manipulate google to have images of your work appear on the first search results. So far you chose “best MFA”, “contemporary art auction record” and “cover of Artforum”, but also “next american president” and “map of the EU”. These last two seem very different, more political and less personal.
GA: I think there's a huge overlap between them. It's all about the future that I want. Targeting the art world gets to put my work into this history of institutional critique. But then there's also a lot of aspirations that are more political, whether it is the next American president or the map of the EU, which is one of my ongoing ones, and will be part of the Linz show. Sometimes our desires for the life that we want are expressed in personal, professional or political ways. And I always see what I do as being a critique of power in general. It's not just a critique of power in the art world; it's not just a critique of big tech power; it's not just a critique of political power. It's all of that encompassed into one. As I hacked my way into Frieze Los Angeles or Sotherby's online, I'm also hacking big tech or financial power. Using systems that are designed for one thing in another way accrues my own power.
BM: You studied Information Theory before working for Google. Was that the point when you decided to turn against the machine? Was it when you decided that this wasn’t the future you wanted?
GA: I clearly loved what I studied because it's such a part of me and my daily life. I like to think about the degree as being a study of how corporations can use information to create competitive advantage and how information and technology are intertwined. It's funny because I worked at Google a decade ago now and only in internal human resource information systems. So I don't have any insider knowledge about how the company works. My time at Google is a reference to the way I want technology to be used now and how I wanted this to exist in my life and society. I see this liberating, democratizing, creative thing, which was the internet, slipping away from some of those roots. The lack of diversity and sexism is still a huge part of Silicon valley. I've been reflecting quite a lot on the male dominated culture of technology, and that's really what comes through in my work from my time.
BM: Looking at your IRL works, I see a brutal femme imagery. How much of this is a conscious feminist comment?
GA: It's totally conscious. When we think of what power looks like, it's not what I'm making now, both in tech and in the art world as well. I always felt like people didn't see me as someone who was powerful or someone who was able to manipulate the global internet and I felt very much like it had to do with the surface of who I am. I'm this blonde chick, in my mid thirties, from California. When I was making oil paintings, I felt like there was a disconnect between what people expected from me and what I was creating. And so I decided with the vision boards to push that expectation to an absurd level, to call the elephant in the room: I'm a woman; I love Taylor Swift; I wish I was a ballerina; I sometimes dream of being a mermaid. That doesn't mean that I'm not powerful and technically capable. And I wanted to make these works that almost dare people to dismiss them as trivial and as feminine because these works manipulate the global internet. I love that they don't look like digital art; I love that they don't look like traditional power; I love that they acknowledge the digital dystopia that we're living in, but also don't dwell on it. They're not dark, they're playful, they're fun. They're feminine. They're about the way we can take the failures of technology and make them work for us.
BM: Regarding the invasive nature of your practice, and going back to the biography on your website, is seeing yourself as an “internet imperialist artist” a whimsical way of acknowledging the darkness of your practice through a critique of colonialism?
GA: Absolutely. I want to acknowledge that the tools that I use to achieve these internet manifestations are used by other people for much darker, more sinister, much more controlling ways. And I do that by calling myself an imperialist. I do think that there's something fun where I want people to feel comfortable around me, but I also want a little bit of this fear. I am more powerful than I look and that makes, or should make, people a little bit nervous about the state of the world and about me. I think that's fun. Super fun.
BM: Thinking now of how your work is going to develop in the future, when you break into a system, you do it legally, following all the rules. Will this recipe work forever? Would it make sense for you to move to a more criminal type of hacking?
GA: Legally within the letter of the law, but not within the spirit of the law. I don't intend to move to a more criminal type of hacking. But there are other systems of power that I'm very interested in, such as the tax system or the legal system. I’m interested in the way that law and tax and finance and technology all intertwine and overlap in these systems of rules. That whole area is one that I think will expand almost indefinitely. Even if I - or when I - become like the next Jeff Koons or Damien Hirst of the art world, I’ll still be less powerful than someone. There's plenty of powerful systems out there for me to continue to address.
Click here to purchase the issue.
Published in Umbigo Magazine #78
October 2021
27.05.2021
Short bio:
Gretchen Andrew (Los Angeles, USA, 1988) is a self-proclaimed search engine and internet imperialist artist. She studied Information Theory in order to become a software engineer, but soon gave up her job at Google to become an artist and train alongside Billy Childish (2012-2017), in London. Having finished her unusual arts education, she published “Search Engine” through the V&A Museum, where she gathered works of artists who are engaged with the internet. Gretchen/Andrew currently lives between Los Angeles and London, where she is represented by the Annka Kultys Gallery.
The internet, unlike human beings, does not parse facts from relevance. Starting with her vision boards, Gretchen Andrew strategically creates digital content, in order to con the internet into believing that the information she is uploading online is the truth AFS. She has hacked into institutions such as Frieze Los Angeles, The Whitney Biennial, The Turner Prize and The Cover of Artforum.
Her new solo show, “Trust Boundary”, will be held in October at Francisco Carolinum, Linz, Austria.
Selected quotes from the interview:
“…..I think that having more art programmed into AI, more art on the internet and thinking about the internet as a creative medium is very beneficial, both to our own brains and to the brains of AI.”
“.....I'm a woman; I love Taylor Swift; I wish I was a ballerina; I sometimes dream of being a mermaid. And that doesn't mean that I'm not powerful and technically capable.”
“I want to acknowledge that the tools that I use to achieve these internet manifestations are used by other people for much darker, more sinister, much more controlling ways. And I do that by calling myself an imperialist.”
“I am more powerful than I look and that makes, or should make, people a little bit nervous about the state of the world and about me. I think that's fun. Super fun.”
Benedita Menezes: As per your biography on your personal website, you see yourself as a “search engine”. Can you explain what that entails in regard to your practice?
Gretchen Andrew: When I was looking to define and bring people along into my process, I invented a couple of terms that I think provide entryways into what is a very digital, conceptual, painting-based practice. I call myself a “search engine artist” because this term nails into one of the unique aspects of my practice, which is that I use algorithms, specifically the search engine, as collaborator and co-creator within my process. In my work I manipulate the Google search engine (and search engines in general,) to make it look like everything that I want has already been accomplished. There's an understanding for humans that I'm talking about aspiration, but Google and technology in general interpret as accomplished facts. So it allows me to play in this space of fake news and online truth in a way that shows humans how complex the truth really is. There isn’t just true and false. There’s hope, fear and aspiration.
BM: You spoke of truth and falsehood. Is this process of desiring something, creating content that supports it and then seeing it become an “internet truth” your way of taking vengeance on a world where those wishes couldn’t happen? Or a hope that they will?
GA: I like to say it's the “not-yet-true”. It's an aspirational truth. Taking a step back, historically, art's relationship to truth has always been very unique. There's an understanding that when a work is created, it's somebody's truth, it's somebody's way of seeing the world. That sort of nuance, passion and perspective is something that art does fabulously well, and that technology does fabulously terribly. It's one of the reasons why I think that having more art programmed into AI, more art on the internet and thinking about the internet as a creative medium is very beneficial, both to our own brains and to the brains of AI. It's not black and white. Truth in art is more about its relationship to beauty and to perspective, metaphor and symbolism. Not all truth is factual, scientific truth.
BM: Everytime you hack into a research engine, it picks up on your desires and turns them into an accomplished reality, because it is not able to parse desires, only relevance. Is that enough for you? Are you content with seeing your work come up in the first results of “contemporary art auction record” instead of having it happen AFK?
GM: I want both! As I'm making these works, I am embodying that aspiration. I am imagining what that's going to be like someday. By creating this world on canvas, I'm visualizing it. I'm feeling all of those feelings that I want to feel and thinking about why this is something that I want and what it will be like when I get it. Is this what I really need to feel happy or to feel like I belong? Strangely, it keeps me present and helps dissolve some of the worry that can come with having an art career. You're as successful as you feel.
BM: Once photographed, your vision boards become these pre-nft images, traditional in the sense that they are exact digital reproductions of physical works. These images then circulate the internet as viruses, at your control. Is the transportative process from AFK works to photographs that which gives the work the ability to become a virus?
GA: Great question. Viruses, at least from a computer perspective, but also from an RNA perspective, are code. They're what gets carried. And so the thing that allows my vision boards to become this virus is the code that gets applied to the image. And some of that's metadata, some of that's HTML, some of that's SEO or natural language processing. The code is the virus. And that's what allows images to spread viciously throughout the internet. And then the relationship goes back to the physical pieces.
BM: What happens to the AFK pieces? Do they become useless?
GA: What happens to the vision board after the artificial intelligence manipulation starts occurring is how my practice extends into other realms. The vision boards aren't an unfinished art piece. They are one of the many outputs of a practice that is conceptual, digital and performative. And they also very intentionally work in a way where they can act as viruses within the art world as well, because they are unique. They display very well at a gallery. They work really well in traditional settings. They check all of these boxes for traditional fetishized art objects, but still have this very digital and conceptual life. And that relates to my desire to make work on canvas, coming from a painting tradition, but also from my desire to have a contemporary art practice.
BM: Your artistic practice lives in, manipulates and feeds on search engines. Do you ever feel that you are closer to being a machine than a human being?
GA: I spend a lot of time speaking to machines and that prepares me for some of the vulnerability of speaking to people directly. And because part of my process is to talk over and over again about what I want to talk about, or to type what I want into Google, into Yelp, into SoundCloud, YouTube, Pinterest, I've gotten practice with the vulnerability of wanting and the vulnerability of desire. Desire is so interpersonal, so human, so physical... To say that you want something is also to admit that you don't have it, especially talking about professional aspirations and the art world. Now it's become a bit more comfortable because I've reached a level of success and notoriety where it feels more reasonable that I want to represent the United States of America at the Venice Biennial, or to have a contemporary art auction record. This was a process of vulnerability that I became more familiar with by talking to machines.
BM: You manipulate google to have images of your work appear on the first search results. So far you chose “best MFA”, “contemporary art auction record” and “cover of Artforum”, but also “next american president” and “map of the EU”. These last two seem very different, more political and less personal.
GA: I think there's a huge overlap between them. It's all about the future that I want. Targeting the art world gets to put my work into this history of institutional critique. But then there's also a lot of aspirations that are more political, whether it is the next American president or the map of the EU, which is one of my ongoing ones, and will be part of the Linz show. Sometimes our desires for the life that we want are expressed in personal, professional or political ways. And I always see what I do as being a critique of power in general. It's not just a critique of power in the art world; it's not just a critique of big tech power; it's not just a critique of political power. It's all of that encompassed into one. As I hacked my way into Frieze Los Angeles or Sotherby's online, I'm also hacking big tech or financial power. Using systems that are designed for one thing in another way accrues my own power.
BM: You studied Information Theory before working for Google. Was that the point when you decided to turn against the machine? Was it when you decided that this wasn’t the future you wanted?
GA: I clearly loved what I studied because it's such a part of me and my daily life. I like to think about the degree as being a study of how corporations can use information to create competitive advantage and how information and technology are intertwined. It's funny because I worked at Google a decade ago now and only in internal human resource information systems. So I don't have any insider knowledge about how the company works. My time at Google is a reference to the way I want technology to be used now and how I wanted this to exist in my life and society. I see this liberating, democratizing, creative thing, which was the internet, slipping away from some of those roots. The lack of diversity and sexism is still a huge part of Silicon valley. I've been reflecting quite a lot on the male dominated culture of technology, and that's really what comes through in my work from my time.
BM: Looking at your IRL works, I see a brutal femme imagery. How much of this is a conscious feminist comment?
GA: It's totally conscious. When we think of what power looks like, it's not what I'm making now, both in tech and in the art world as well. I always felt like people didn't see me as someone who was powerful or someone who was able to manipulate the global internet and I felt very much like it had to do with the surface of who I am. I'm this blonde chick, in my mid thirties, from California. When I was making oil paintings, I felt like there was a disconnect between what people expected from me and what I was creating. And so I decided with the vision boards to push that expectation to an absurd level, to call the elephant in the room: I'm a woman; I love Taylor Swift; I wish I was a ballerina; I sometimes dream of being a mermaid. That doesn't mean that I'm not powerful and technically capable. And I wanted to make these works that almost dare people to dismiss them as trivial and as feminine because these works manipulate the global internet. I love that they don't look like digital art; I love that they don't look like traditional power; I love that they acknowledge the digital dystopia that we're living in, but also don't dwell on it. They're not dark, they're playful, they're fun. They're feminine. They're about the way we can take the failures of technology and make them work for us.
BM: Regarding the invasive nature of your practice, and going back to the biography on your website, is seeing yourself as an “internet imperialist artist” a whimsical way of acknowledging the darkness of your practice through a critique of colonialism?
GA: Absolutely. I want to acknowledge that the tools that I use to achieve these internet manifestations are used by other people for much darker, more sinister, much more controlling ways. And I do that by calling myself an imperialist. I do think that there's something fun where I want people to feel comfortable around me, but I also want a little bit of this fear. I am more powerful than I look and that makes, or should make, people a little bit nervous about the state of the world and about me. I think that's fun. Super fun.
BM: Thinking now of how your work is going to develop in the future, when you break into a system, you do it legally, following all the rules. Will this recipe work forever? Would it make sense for you to move to a more criminal type of hacking?
GA: Legally within the letter of the law, but not within the spirit of the law. I don't intend to move to a more criminal type of hacking. But there are other systems of power that I'm very interested in, such as the tax system or the legal system. I’m interested in the way that law and tax and finance and technology all intertwine and overlap in these systems of rules. That whole area is one that I think will expand almost indefinitely. Even if I - or when I - become like the next Jeff Koons or Damien Hirst of the art world, I’ll still be less powerful than someone. There's plenty of powerful systems out there for me to continue to address.
Click here to purchase the issue.