Soft.space: In conversation with Pauline Esguerra
Endless, elusive, and enduring, it is no secret that the digital realm is increasingly disrupting acts of considered connection and introspective solitude. The loss of these hallmarks of meaningful humanity: the ability reach outward and look inward with intention and compassion, is deeply concerning. The World Wide Web is being constructed, more so than ever, with the riled intent to numb its users into complacent activity by convincing and coercing its audience into capital-driven pursuits, fear-mongering propaganda, and bright, shiny, candy-pop voids of ‘culture.’ Is there a solution? During a time where the physical world poses increasing danger for many, can we reenter the digital space with hope for safe solitude? Is there an antidote to this fast-paced, overloaded experience?
I spoke with NY, Brooklyn-based graphic designer and artist Pauline Esguerra about her project, Soft.Space, which aims to frame human-computer interactions for users to reflect on their internet behaviours.
Following the process of handcoding the site, Esguerra guides the user through a threefold platform (Meadow, Self-Sanctuary, and Embodied Internet). This experience aims to unfurl a solution by planting the seed of a question: "How can internet art create a consciousness around 'slow' digital experiences?"
We exchanged thoughts via email for some time on the topic, a sort of thought ‘ping-pong,’ if you will. An unhurried e-conversation on such slow things.
Taylor Hall (TH)— Pauline, I was quite taken back by how ‘on the nose’ Soft.space is to an area of research I am burrowing into — the digital realm’s comforts, it’s gentle offerings and the soft, snug crevices of cyberspace that seldom don’t resemble the overwhelming space we so often encounter.
I am interested in the ideas of the internet, and its ‘softness’ within and beyond the physical experience of being an embodied, tactile human being. I often wonder if these attempted comforting experiences soothe us, as we so desire, or do they lack in comparison? Will we inevitably be subsumed by this ‘immaterial’ and endless digital world, or is there truly a soft, tender antidote?
Pauline Esguerra (PE) — This is a question I was trying to ask myself but couldn't quite put into words while doing this project, and you articulated this beautifully.
While Soft.Space, or any internet comfort for that matter, aren't truly antidotes from the cold void of the internet, I do think there are different ways of coping with the worlds we live in. One of the ways we cope with the real world in life is through art and the act of making art, and I wanted to bring that experience through Soft.Space, through a digital lens. We find comfort in knowing these spaces exist in this world of the internet, and that there are other people that have left their footprint there too.
Self-sanctuary
TH — You’re right, art is a way of coping. It is the reason our contemporary artists are (arguably) more vital than ever — they’re generous, and at times compassionate in offering us their approach to seeing the world. They take the time, on society's behalf, to see things for how they really are. At the very least they try… the good ones do. I find a lot of solace in that fact, that people are still taking the time.
I find it interesting that you bring up a distinction between ‘real world art’ and art situated within the active digital space. The boundary between the two is blurry, even more so following the pandemic, where (traditionally physical) exhibitions were forced to exist intangibly — as websites. I believe you created Soft.space during this time?
How does it sit with you that your site exists within the context of the very entity you're attempting to navigate? It’s a sort of friendly, sincere Trojan Horse…
PE — It’s funny that you bring up the pandemic actually, because while Soft.Space started about a year post-pandemic, it was made from a lens that paid no attention to it. I'd only made that association in hindsight when a thesis critic in my panel had pointed out I hadn't used the word 'pandemic' or 'post-pandemic' in my presentation, and for that he was eternally grateful that something like this was made and could exist outside of the covid bubble, which I was pleased to hear.
It was important to me that Soft.Space wasn't to be seen as a response to cope with isolation or the inaccessible art community at the time of covid, but rather as a response to my current frustration with the internet. This frustration being, simply put, that if we're fated with the internet being ‘this’ entity, a separate space we have to keep living with and tuning to in order to stay connected, we need to treat the it as we would to sustain the real world (implementing green spaces, art galleries) in order to foster our communities and cultivate a sense of belonging & identity. When you turn a corner and stumble across little side streets of the internet and the handmade web, you almost feel this sense of peace, like a breath of fresh air, or a gentle, human touch. I hope Soft.Space can exist for that exact feeling, and the internet, thankfully, makes it perennial for everyone.
“When you turn a corner and stumble across little side streets of the internet and the handmade web, you almost feel this sense of peace, like a breath of fresh air, or a gentle, human touch. ”
TH — I agree. Although it’s very clear that so much art was born out of a reaction to the ‘pandemic era’, I think it's reductive, and honestly a bit lazy to think of everything created during that time as ‘covid’ art. I am also sure everyone is sick of hearing about it. It's about as cliché as a memeified Mona Lisa. Let’s curb that area of thinking then!
You bring up the ‘handmade web’ and how it embodies a deliberate choice towards slower, more conscious digital practices. Could you talk a bit about the process of constructing the site and your active decision to ‘handmake’ it? Was the intent for this tedious, manual creation to be evident to other web creators, designers, and practitioners? Or was it primarily a personal pursuit of slowness? Or perhaps, both, or something else entirely?
Moving onto each of the sub-platforms —Embodied Internet, Self-Sanctuary, and Meadow — I gather they each tackle your emphasis on tactility and a kind of evoked environment as a way to nurture authenticity, mindful connection, and contemplative spaces. These are fundamentally ‘slow’ aspirations ! However, what strikes me most is their capacity for growth and continual activity. As you mentioned, the site is perennial.
In particular, Embodied Internet — I love your analogy of it as a garden in need of nurturing. On this platform each user’s contribution becomes an act of care and generosity towards themselves and others. While online forums often breed brash behaviour due to the immunity anonymity provides, here, privacy fosters vulnerability. This is more of a statement, but what is your take? It must be incredibly fulfilling to watch it continue to grow.
Embodied Internet
PE - I think it was the only right decision for me to 'handmake' the site, as it was an active effort of getting familiar with the materials of the web that I was aiming to reclaim. If I was going to create spaces around digital slowness, it was incredibly important for me to create it from a lens that used the ‘bones’ of the web and didn't use any templatised web building platforms that perpetuate commercialised work today.
I'll reiterate a segment of my thesis that encapsulates this: 'Learning and developing my own code was an ambitious pursuit in crafting the work that would eventually stand counter to materiality, attention economy, and inaccessibility that overall pushes what we know to be the traditional digital space. This topic was particularly interesting to explore in the current centralised, consumerist state of the internet we are in, going on to use its form as an effort to regress, reflect, and critique.'
One of my favorite early net artists J.R. Carpenter once said: "In today's highly commercialised web of multinational corporations, proprietary applications, read-only devices, search algorithms, and digital publishers - it becomes an increasingly radical act to hand-code and self-publish experimental web art and writing projects."
I think both these sentiments relate and ring true. It's like choosing to make yourself a healthy, farm-to-table meal where you know every single ingredient you're putting into a meal, over going to McDonald's, which is incredibly processed and probably not good for you in the long run.
Going into developing this project, I was a complete novice. I had no idea what I was doing besides what I had learned from customising my Tumblr themes in my teenage years (lol). I had tasked myself with using the online coding education platform SuperHi. It became pretty clear to me that a lot of the course material was geared towards creating commercial websites (which is the opposite of what I wanted to do). However, as I got further into learning the foundational elements of code, I started to experiment with what I was making. Basically, I started fucking it up, seeing what would happen if I typed this value in to this, or if I moved this header to that section of the page.
Because I had only about 3-months of my thesis study until presentation, I expedited the process. I skipped ahead of sections, and I got my hands dirty with where I really wanted my ideas to go. The courses and stack overflow forums taught me a lot, and I had strict benchmarks of where I needed to be every week. The Soft.Space sites are all really just HTML, CSS, Java - with the exception of Meadow which uses 3D shaders, and Embodied Internet which uses an Are.na API. It’s kind of hard to explain both in one go, but it definitely wasn't the simplest thing, that's for sure. I didn't do this alone though and wasn't afraid to ask for help along the way. But I am a designer and artist at heart, and web development was a real challenge for me all around.
Yes, Embodied Internet is the golden child. I think it's the platform that resonates the most with people coming out of the Soft.Space experience. Not only because users can actively contribute to the space and feel a part of it, but because they can really see the amalgamation of its impact. It's incredibly fulfilling to watch it grow to this day, I'm so amazed at its reach and seeing how people interpret the space. It is exactly how you described, and to me, an act of digital art publishing, whether that be through poetry or image, or just a simple piece of text in the context of a 'garden' that is left to grow through communal care. Its purpose is for publishers to have the autonomy to contribute to the space freely, with acts of care and generosity and overall intentionality of a space that has grown to be this bright, mossy, green corner of the internet. Generally, I think everyone has interpreted the space in very thoughtful and poetic ways, using it as a catalyst to publish their own or others' writing or express gratitude for this part of the internet they have discovered.
Meadow is a one-off browser-based art experience as well as Self-Sanctuary, which is an ephemeral space for self-reflection, you then conclude with ‘Embodied Internet being the most engaging or public. Navigating through Soft.Space mirrors the journey of repairing your relationship with yourself offline—starting with self-submission and finding comfort in solitude, followed by reflection, and ultimately progressing to active engagement with others.
“(Hand-building the site) is like choosing to make yourself a healthy, farm-to-table meal where you know every single ingredient you’re putting in, over going to McDonald’s, which is incredibly processed and probably not good for you in the long run. ”
TH – Your work in ‘farm-to-tabling’ the hand code for Soft.space makes it a very holistic project. I am sure the process made you incredibly aware of the internet at large, and what simmers beyond its surface. This begs the question: how do the insights gained from building the site influence your work as a designer? Given graphic design’s use in commercial applications and its role in engaging the attention economy, do you believe your thesis project equips you with tools to address the “centralised, consumerist nature” of the internet? Essentially, does the intentional slowness and introspective nature of the site permeate into other spheres? I wonder Soft.space’s legacy could serve as a remedy for the digital malaise, or if gestures such as these are a drop in the ocean… that its current state is beyond the point of return… a bit of a ‘can of worms’ thought, but I am throwing it out there, because why not!
Also, could you expand on what you mean by the platform “standing counter to materiality”?
I'm fascinated by artist’s efforts to reconcile the overlaps between the material world and the digital realm. While the evocative nature of physical material can be seen to have been dissolved by the immaterialities of new technologies, I can’t help but feel a tactility to online spaces. ASMR really does this for me, actually. I think Meadow also taps into this, with its use of 3D shaders and autonomous user interaction, it creates a spatial and tactile experience reminiscent of real-world sensations. We know what grass feels like between our fingers, we remember it’s herbal, citrusy smell, the way breeze moves through it — and can relate that back to the experience you have rendered. Do you see this platform as a means of reintroducing tactile experiences in the digital realm?
PE — Soft.Space influenced my practice as a designer in that I notice the kinds of projects I like to work on are human-centric and have a sense of placemaking in approach. I think with the site there is a high regard to empathy, emotionality, and fostering community that's integral to the work I feel stands out from the rest of the work in my portfolio. I work primarily in brand design now, and while it's a whole different ball game from Soft.Space, I've taken these principles into the way I approach branding projects and how I see them existing in the world. How are people going to experience this brand with utmost intention and care? What communities do we want to foster from the brand experience apart from consumerism? That's a whole other can of worms as you say, but an interesting question to explore.
On an additional note, one of the reasons why I made Soft.space was because I needed to find solace in a place I'm fated with tapping into on an everyday basis as a designer who uses the internet as a tool. While I try to work with my hands as much as I can and incorporate a sense of physical tactility and human touch (which is irreplaceable), I think this largely relates to how I've managed to find tactility in the digital space - which also answers your last question - "Do you see this platform as a means of reintroducing tactile experiences in the digital realm?". I think there lies a sense of comfort in the site because it aligns with real-world sensations, and feels so close to the human touch.
A remedy for the digital malaise is completely subjective to how each of us chooses to explore our digital identities. Some find peace in the digital space, some find peace being disconnected, some sway somewhere in the balance of the two. Where the world is heading it is quite (if I may be so bold) impossible to live without the internet, making the current state of the internet inevitable. It is inevitably a place whirry of mass consumerism, overconsumption, and stimulation. But where we can remedy is where we can create places to sit still, and if we are open to finding those spaces for ourselves.
The remedial takeaways from making the site is knowing that there is still very much a greener internet environment out there for all of us if we are open to finding it, and it's growing by the minute. Seeing Soft.Space grow since its inception has brought me to people who are asking all the right questions and are actively making efforts to create a better digital landscape. In a world where attention is a rather finite resource, it's brought to my attention the internet's purpose of creating a deeper connection with like-minded people that understand, and how this helps us navigate and create a better sense of the world and of ourselves. I've realised that we are not doomed by the fate of coexistence with the internet, but it likely serves us an interconnectedness we wouldn't find otherwise.
With this, I'll leave you with a quote from one of my favorite Are.na articles written by Jon Chen. So much good stuff here!
"Computation is not an extension of nature but rather part of nature itself. Might we instead choose to reshape, tend to, and explore the shared grounds between nature and technology as an ongoing process, allowing metaphors to sit in a state of perplexity to allow collaborative authorship by human, non-human, and environment, rather than consolidated authorship of a few?"
Meadow