THE AGE OF INTELLIGENT MACHINES Chapter 9: The Science of Art

The great discovery of the twentieth century in art and physics alike, is a recoil from and transformation of the impersonal assembly-line of nineteenth century art and science. At a time like ours, in which mechanical skill has attained unsuspected perfection, the most famous works may be heard as easily as one may drink a glass of beer, and it only costs ten centimes, like the automatic weighing machines. Should we not fear this domestication of sound, this magic that anyone can bring from a disk at his will? Will it not bring to waste the mysterious force of an art which one might have thought indestructible? What is the difference between manipulation of the machine and collaboration with it? I have sometimes experienced a state of dynamic tension rising in me out of what would seem to be a state of mutual responsiveness between the machine and myself. Such a state could require hours of concentrated preparatory exploration, coaxing of machines, connecting, so to say, one's own sensibilities, one's own nerve endings to the totality of the tuned-up controls. And, suddenly, a window would open into a vast field of possibilities; the time limits would vanish, and the machines would seem to become humanized components of the interactive network now consisting of oneself and the machine, still obedient but full of suggestions to the master controls of the imagination. Everything seemed possible: one leaned on the horizon and pushed it away and forward until utter exhaustion would set in and, one by one, the nerve endings ceased to connect, the possibilities contracted, and an automatic reversal to routine solutions was a sure danger signal to quit. An affectionate pat on a control here and there was not to be resisted. If there is an unfinished bit of conversation between you and the machines, either take note of all the controls or leave them alone until tomorrow.