When did you first arrive at the synthesis of sculptural objects and sound that we see in this exhibition?

It seems to us that when a new form of technology is introduced, it will often be described with words such as “useful” or “advanced.” But later, after people have been using it for a while, it will become tied to personal stories and emotions. It is then that the technology becomes “real” and interesting for us in terms of our art.

So the emotions come about through use and familiarity. And how has technology changed the way that people communicate emotions to each other?

It both speeds up and increases the frequency of communication. But we believe that it doesn’t change the basic nature of human emotions.

When you describe the piece Pray (from Spiritual Computing series), you mention the spiritual relationship between the physical and the information worlds. I’m really curious what you mean by “spiritual.” Does that mean that machines could become gods in the future?

Well, there are many stories that surround new technologies, and that includes mysterious, unbelievable, and miraculous experiences. But we’re the type of people who tend to think logically whereas others, when faced with an incomprehensible phenomenon, take it in a spiritual way, like, “God helped us!”

Still, when we’re actually making our art, things that feel mysterious sometimes happen. Pray was started from a sudden intuition that something would happen if we attached two optical mice to each other. Of course, that’s really based on scientific reasoning—the reflection of the light between two optical mice should cause an error in their sensors. But the process of that experiment was interesting. We had been trying to put two mice together for ten minutes or so when the mouse cursor on the computer’s desktop suddenly started moving spontaneously if the mice were held against each other in a very specific position, which looked like the shape of praying hands. We simply had to act on our first intuition without having any evidence it would do anything. It was like some unknown power led us there. Doesn’t that sound “spiritual”?

It could be seen as either spiritual or, perhaps, magical. Maybe they’re the same. But please tell us, if the technology becomes available, will you consider uploading your consciousness to the cloud when you pass away?

If our consciousness would be useful and shareable for other people, we will. But if it would just exist in the cloud and accomplish nothing, there’s no reason to do it.

Please tell us one book that influenced your art and your worldview.

I [Sembo] read Childhood’s End by Arthur C. Clarke when I was in middle school, right after I learned that it shared the same themes as 2001: A Space Odyssey. I was excited to imagine a point of view that came from outside the human species. I might be misremembering this, but I believe that in the book, humans start to make art after they realize that the path of evolution has ended and there is no reason to exist anymore. That idea impacted me, and I’ve kept thinking about it since.

What sort of emotional reactions do you hope to evoke in your audience? What are the questions you hope they leave your exhibitions thinking about?

When we’ve shown the piece Kiss, or Dual Monitors, there are many different opinions that have arisen. Some people say it brings them happiness while others see it as dystopian. Hearing these almost opposite opinions made us believe that the piece works. So we don’t expect any specific emotion or opinion arising from our art. Each diverse reaction is important. Even when people feel they can understand all the concepts behind a work, I think it is ideal that at least something of an unsolved mystery remains. That’s how art should be, and we’re still struggling to figure it out. It will be a long journey.

Would you like to leave us with any parting words?

Please keep your eyes on exonemo.