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еРИК КРИКОРЦ<br />
ERiK KRiKORtZ<br />
112<br />
Emotional Cities<br />
Erik Krikortz creates new tools for communication and<br />
vivid spaces for dialogue. His projects are interventions<br />
in public space that query quotidian life and explore its<br />
potentials. The viewer is not only a receiver, but also a<br />
co-creator. Without an engaged audience actively taking<br />
part, there would be no artwork.<br />
Krikortz interprets a masculine, monumental tradition<br />
in public art, but transforms it into an emotional and social<br />
project. His work is characterized by interactivity and<br />
a genuine interest in people and society. He employs<br />
modern technology to reach out and make the art experience<br />
accessible for a broad public. Krikortz also examines the<br />
social functions of new media and experiments with inter-<br />
faces. The concepts often seem simple at first sight, but<br />
appear more complex at a close-up. A good example of this<br />
is the light installation Colour by Numbers (2006–2010),<br />
where people are invited to colour tall buildings with light<br />
—by calling a number and using the touch-tone function<br />
on their mobile phones. Also in Demonstration Aesthetics<br />
(2010), produced at the Van Abbemuseum, where Krikortz<br />
investigates the function and form of the demonstration in<br />
the digital age, a collaborative effort generated the artwork.<br />
Together with ten young artists in Eindhoven, Krikortz<br />
created demonstration leftovers that subtly infiltrated<br />
public space.<br />
Emotional Cities creates a multilayered visual reflection<br />
of the emotional pulse of Belgrade. The project combines a<br />
website with a light installation in public space. People in<br />
Belgrade are invited to grade their current emotional state<br />
on a coloured seven-level scale at the website. Through sta-<br />
tistical analyses the emotions of all participating Belgraders<br />
will blend together. A median value is continuously calcu-<br />
lated, and the collective emotions of Belgrade are projected<br />
on Palace Albania. Hence you will know the emotional<br />
temperature of the city as you walk in the streets, or even<br />
when you approach the city by air. All values are also<br />
displayed on the website, and not only for Belgrade but<br />
for hundreds of cities worldwide. Emotional Cities has<br />
previously been carried out in Stockholm and Seoul.<br />
www.emotionalcities.com<br />
Pages 106–107 and 110–111:<br />
Emotional Cities, 2007–2010<br />
Net art, light installation<br />
in stockholm, 2007–2009<br />
Photo: Erik krikortz<br />
Erik Krikortz, Moderna Museet<br />
“The day of individual happiness has passed” would be the<br />
perfect catchphrase for Erik Krikortz’s attempt to measure<br />
collective happiness, had it been he who said it, rather than<br />
Adolf Hitler. Happiness has long been a subject for deep<br />
thinkers and dark rulers. Aristotle called it a virtue; Hitler,<br />
something to be sacrificed for the greater good. In his<br />
ongoing interactive project, “Emotional Cities”, Krikortz<br />
invites his audience to log on to www.emotionalcities.com<br />
and register their day-to-day emotional states using a scale<br />
of seven faces, from frowning to smiley, each colored to<br />
represent a point on the spectrum from violet (sad) to red<br />
(happy). In the first two weeks of Krikortz’s recent exhibition<br />
at Moderna Museet, more than twenty thousand people<br />
clicked on the face that best summed up their emotional<br />
grade, and that number continues to grow. Anyone can take<br />
part, but the collective input of Stockholm-based respondents<br />
becomes a part of the project’s next phase: Their self-evaluations,<br />
averaged every second into one representative color,<br />
are currently still lighting up the facades of the five office<br />
buildings around Hötorget square, the closest thing to sky-<br />
scrapers in central Stockholm. Checking out the “Emotional<br />
Cities” webcam one snowy evening, I saw the office buil-<br />
dings awash in yellow; Stockholmers were on the whole<br />
mildly happy.<br />
Krikortz’s scale might seem little more than pop psycho-<br />
logy, too crude a means for creditably measuring the subtle<br />
shades of human emotion; but academic constructs such as<br />
the Subjective Happiness Scale (SHS), created by researchers<br />
at Stanford University, and other similar instruments, use<br />
as few as four questions to quantify emotional well-being.<br />
But, of course, a measure of happiness is the measure of<br />
discontent, and if nothing else, “Emotional Cities” is capti-<br />
vating in its attempt to visualize, on a mass scale, a Swedish<br />
state of mind. In the country where consensus is king, Stock-<br />
holmers can look up at the Hötorget buildings to see if they<br />
are in emotional harmony with their fellow urbanities.<br />
Erik krikortz was born 1975 in sweden, where he lives and works. krikortz works with installations, interventions and performances—significantly<br />
with projects in the public space, often including web platforms and involving the participation of the<br />
public. he explores issues of democracy and public spaces. he pursues an established tradition in the art of drawing attention<br />
to the shortcomings and merits of the city, with the use of new technology and its interactive potential.<br />
Swedes are reputed to be a gloomy bunch, prone to suicide<br />
and depression; Krikortz’s random sampling suggests<br />
otherwise, and statistics back him up. Sweden’s suicide rate<br />
is not particularly high, and according to the Satisfaction<br />
with Life Index (created by social psychologists at the<br />
University of Leicester), its citizens rank seventh in the<br />
world in happiness. Knowing this prompts us to dissect<br />
myths about nationalities. Where did that yarn about<br />
suicidal Swedes come from? It seems to have taken hold<br />
after a 1960 speech by Dwight Eisenhower in which he<br />
alleged that “sin, nudity, drunkenness, and suicide” were<br />
the direct result of welfare-state excess in Sweden. It was<br />
the rumor heard ’round the world.<br />
At the Moderna Museet, Krikortz’s project is presented<br />
as a sort of advertisement for itself, with wall paintings<br />
featuring an urban skyline silhouette, the words HUR MÅR<br />
DU IDAG? (“How are you today?”), the seven colored emoticons,<br />
and the URL of the website; Internet terminals display<br />
the website, and a forty-two-inch plasma screen shows the<br />
current color of the light projection at the Hötorget skyscrapers.<br />
“Advertising”, Krikortz writes, “dominates the<br />
public space, points at our shortcomings, and tells us what<br />
we need in order to feel good. Our economy is an ’economy<br />
of deficiency’ based entirely on dissatisfaction.” With color-<br />
coded emotions flashed across the Hötorget buildings at<br />
sundown, Krikortz lets real—albeit averaged-out—emotion<br />
speak out over the rhetoric of deficiency. Happiness remains<br />
a virtue, just as Aristotle said. “Emotional Cities”, so<br />
Krikortz claims, provides “a psychological diagnosis<br />
of society.” While this is an overstatement—it’s more like<br />
taking society’s emotional temperature—Krikortz’s heart<br />
is in the right place.<br />
© Artforum, January 2008, “Review: Erik Krikortz,<br />
Moderna Museet,” by Ronald Jones<br />
113