‘Textura’ (Texture) was the first word that hit me as I left Loulé’s Convento de Santo António after attending Rodrigo Gomes’s (b. 1991) Tecnosfera exhibition. Odd how words attach ideas to our perception of the world. Some sort of cerebral magma awakens them – or something comes out of it. The openings in the old convent, its floor and walls, help build the notion of texture. But why does this word surface in relation to a series of pieces developed as part of the work on notions (and practices) of technology, which I usually associate with abstractions, the absence of concreteness, the non-palpable (and consequently that which does not allow for touch, the cognisance of textures)?

‘’Technosphere‘’ is an alternative (or complementary) understanding of the notion of ‘’anthroposphere‘’. Jan Zalasiewicz explains in one of UNESCO’s media outlets, the UNESCO Courier, that the Earth is formed by a series of ‘spheres’, commonly described as the lithosphere (or the planet’s rocky foundations), the hydrosphere (water in its liquid state) and the cryosphere (the icy areas of the poles and mountain peaks), the atmosphere (the air we breathe), and the biosphere (of which human beings are a part as living organisms). The technosphere, more recently defined by those who study terrestrial phenomena, is introduced as a ‘concept developed by Peter Haff’ (a geologist and engineer at Duke University in the USA) which, like the Anthropocene, ‘is becoming increasingly acknowledged’ in the sciences and the arts: the author adds that it has been the creative backbone of an initiative by the House of World Cultures (Haus der Kulturen der Welt), a contemporary arts centre in Berlin. The technosphere encompasses ‘all technological objects that have been made by human beings’ organised into a system (and not just as a ‘growing assortment of technological hardware”). This ‘system’ comes to mind when I read or hear the word “technosphere”, and leads to abstraction.

Faro-born Rodrigo Gomes’ artistic work, educated at the University of Évora and the Faculty of Fine Arts in Lisbon, has been built around a series of abstract and concrete ideas, intersecting the physicality of sculpture (plastic or sound) and the immateriality or ideation of concepts. There is a system at this juncture, or the suggestion of a way of operating, in which ideas impact on objects and objects conform (or co-form) ideas. Perhaps this can explain why a texture is perceived as immateriality.

Or else they are sculptures/paintings such as POST HUMAN SKULL, GABOR GHOST or SWANS – I understand the titles as purely indicative, as the sculptural, visual suggestions refer both to animal forms and to skeletal remains (human or otherwise) – pointing to the idea of a present texture, materiality turned into form that strives for proximity (I so wanted to touch them!). SYMMETRY OF SEE (#1 and #2) are, although installed as paintings, some of the most compelling pieces to wander around: they protrude forward, breaking out of their frames, harking back to David Cronenberg’s 1983 experience in Videodrome. (One wonders how cinema foreshadows so many of the artistic forms that it has nearly failed to keep up with them – or how cinema, technique and art – let alone its industry – have changed).

What we (still) observe when we encounter the sculpture of an apparently human head is indeed a human head in its relation to what is known: the rounded shape, the placement of the eyes, the nose, possibly the ears. But Rodrigo Gomes’ figures predict a variation of this perception: the perceived figure does not replicate a human head: rather, it is the outcome of an artificial projection (read by a machine, albeit a humanly programmed one) of what can be understood as a human head. How should we react? The traditional elements are no longer suitable and familiarity is deceptive – that which stands before us is not familiar, even if it may seem so.

Rodrigo Gomes is presenting (in one of his Instagram posts) his most complex piece, combining sound, projected image and sculpture in one installation: SYMMETRY OF SPEECH ‘explores new writing systems’, bringing two (artificially replicated) neural networks into communication through sound and image. This technological stimulus is triggered by sounds regarded as some of the most ancestral to mankind: the purpose of the whole exhibition is centred on this: to bridge the gap from the most purely animal existence (the human phonetic apparatus in its primeval capacity) to artificial language’s technological sophistication. Will communication (dialogue?) between both lead to a new language? Is the technosphere just a set of polluting masses made by human beings (the ‘mass’ represented by the two blocks, sculpted from an acrylic, sikalastic and polyester resin combination, each containing a monitor that reproduces images and sounds)? Or could it simply result in artistic experimentation, creating that which, according to this belief, distinguishes us from other beings?

Produced by the city hall of Loulé, curated by Miguel Cheta (and supported by Museu Zer0 and DGArtes), Tecnosfera is the title of a year-long exhibition at the gallery of Convento de Santo António. On his Instagram profile, the author describes it as a ‘new body of work’ – it is matter, a body. The curator reiterates this when he states on the supporting text that the exhibition ‘invites the audience to explore the materialisation of computer images into sculptures’. This includes a dialogue between three fields that arrange the pieces on display, corresponding to the three spatial areas of the former church of Convento Capucho de Santo António: O Diálogo / Linguagem, in the side chapel; O Corpo, in the central portion of the church; and A Visão, in the room just to the left of the entrance. The titles point to a possibility, or the scrutinising of discursive forces. Whether the discourse is materialised through sounds replicating Mongolian throat singing (SYMMETRY OF SPEECH, based on code programming by António Dias and Francisco Braga) or the challenge it throws at visitors, in a sequence of discovery and hiding, projection, transparency and mirroring (HOW FAR IS FAR AWAY?), the technosphere is made present – each element is embodied and, in the old church, takes on the meaning of a monolith from outer space. We are no longer the intrigued apes of Kubrick’s film, but the awe is the same and the questions will probably be similar. How distant is the far, far away from us? Who are we, anyway?

Tecnosfera is at Convento de Santo António in Loulé until September 14.