Digitalia et al

A trip into the heat or heart of the capital, where I meet with a former colleague who specialises in the digital arts. It is all numbers and keys and screens and pads and swivel-chairs, his work. The consequence of his actions is something similar to reality, but its foundation is all in numbers. He does not work in the static arts, this number-crunching visualist. That would be too, well, static. He works only in moving images, which is to say 24 and 25 frames per second. You know, someone once described this kind of work to me as akin to polishing turds, which was probably unfair of them, but I do know this world myself, because during one period in my life I had the task of working with people in this field. I will say this, they are talented, they come from engineering rather than pure creativity, and in some instances are genuine world leaders. A strange tribe, too. They all wear the same items of clothing - cloaks of heavily laundered grunge. Also, these so-called digital artists each have the same semi-glazed expressions. They love what they do so much that you often have to peel them away from their screens. They are not highly talkative, either. They are often over-worked and under-paid - so nothing new there - but what sets them most apart is their utter ease with mass computer failure, as if it is like waiting for the rain to pass while on a long, gentle walk. Unusually perhaps, the person I saw today has great respect for the static arts, including very much the artist's work, which he has never actually seen in the flesh, but has seen in reproductions. This love of painting and drawing makes him a better digital artist. Digitalia, I was thinking. It is a both a huge industry and an over-simplification. It is like being given the keys to the kingdom and yet the door is already open. It is egalitarianism made real, yet addictively unrefreshing. As most people know, the entire world has gone or is going digital. The artist is digital. Did you know that? She draws with her fingers.