I remember opening the door to my old apartment, in a converted church building on 16th Street, about 3 years ago and seeing it was Jonathan Harris.
My friend Ela had asked if he could stay, of course, but I wasn't quite sure if it was the one I had heard of.
She was due to be staying with us, as she often had and subsequently did when she had shoots in NYC.
She is a courteous and charming houseguest and always welcome in our home.
This time, she called and said that an artist was following her around the day of her shoot as part of a project he was working on, and had asked to spend that night at ours with her. The artist would follow a different actress every day, and the producer / director at the top and tail, to capture all ten days of the shoot from every point of view, spreading out in time to cover both before and after. Waking up and going to bed.
Seemed cool and we happily agreed to host them both.
We hung out, drank wine, chatted about porn and the internet and media and being watched, had dinner, and every 5 minutes Jonathan would film 10 seconds of footage.
I may have gotten a bit ranty, especially after dinner and in my cups [it's been known to happen] and I was defintely proud of our new Roomba.
You can see all this in the interactive film I Love Your Work, as a very tiny part of a remarkable content experience, explored through a variety of beautiful interfaces. The interactive documentry explores the private lives of nine women who make lesbian porn, but the piece is also exploring points of view, narrative, time and interaction. The 'tapestry' navigation, seen above, is somewhat reminiscent of the classic Whale Hunt, but updated for film.
It's the side of porn you never see, real people and their real thoughts and dreams, moments of intense sensuality, moments of boredom. Intimate and occasionally uncomfortable, as art should be, perhaps, and definitively of and for the web.
"This is very important to me in the work that I produce: the way something is expressed visually corresponds to the nature of the thing being expressed." and the go on to suggest that "the gap between how something looks and what it means is eroded in the art of visualization", which seems to be something that has been lost in the deluge of infographics that now litter the web.]
That evening I asked Jonathan how he intended to display the piece. He told me, under the condition that I didn't 'steal the idea for a brand'.
Wondering about the ubiquity of content that was coming, and understanding that value is, usually, a function of scarcity, he was going to charge each online viewer $10 for a ticket to the show [10% of tickets sales is being donated to the sex workers union] and only allow 10 tickets to be issued each day.