Davide Moises (1973-), The Ultimate Machine nach Claude E. Shannon,
Die Sammlung David Moises, Multimediale Installation, 2009
Technisches Museum Wien
This installation by David Moises is part of a series of art works which has been created to celebrate the Centenary of the Foundation stone of the Technisches Museum Wien (June 20, 1909).
«The things we see in museums seem true and right, a part of the established historiography. The framework alone of the museum as an institution lends the status of original of what is exhibited. The artist David Moises uses this conventional expectation as the starting point to showcase a series of objects which could irritate our perception of the history of technology. We are confronted with unexpected thought experiments, presented in traditional display cases,* bizarre collection items and an ambiguous hands-on. None of it is invented – but what is true and verifiable?
The work of David Moises is well known for serving as a medium that allows tools and machines to fulfil their innermost wishes – including this particular wish for a museum’s interpretative powers.»
Seit 100 Jahren ein aha-Erlebnis. Das Programmbuch, 13. März bis 21 Juni 2009, Wien, TMW, 2009, p. 61.
* The Machine out of its case was filmed at the symposium Research on interactive exhibits, organised by the ScienceCenterNetzwerk, at the Technisches Museum Wien on May 25, 2009.
Ultimate Machine, by David Moises, TMW, 2009
«I cannot leave Bell Labs without mentioning one more device which I saw there, and which haunts me as it haunts everyone else who has ever seen it in action. It is the Ultimate Machine–the End of the Line. Beyond it there is Nothing. It sits on Claude Shannon’s desk driving’ people mad. (Or sat, as Shannon is now at MIT.) Nothing could look simpler. It is merely a small wooden casket the size and shape of a cigar-box, with a single switch on one face. When you throw the switch, there is an angry, purposeful buzzing. The lid slowly rises, and from beneath it emerges a hand. The hand reaches down, turns the switch off, and retreats into the box. With the finality of a closing coffin, the lid snaps shut, the buzzing ceases, and peace reigns once more. The psychological effect, if you do not know what to expect, is devastating. There is something unspeakably sinister about a machine that does nothing–absolutely nothing–except switch itself off.»
Arthur C. Clarke, The Ultimate Machine, “Harper’s”, August 1958.
«Non potrebbe esserci nulla di più semplice. Non è altro che un cofanetto di legno, della forma e delle dimensioni di una scatola di sigari, con un unico interruttore su una delle facce. Se si gira l’interruttore, parte un ronzio stizzito, insistente. Il coperchio lentamente si alza, e da sotto emerge una mano. La mano si stende sull’interruttore, lo spegne e si ritira nella scatola. Definitivo come l’atto di sigillare una bara, il coperchio si chiude con uno scatto, il ronzio cessa e torna la quiete. L’effetto psicologico, se non sapete cosa vi aspetta, è devastante. C’è qualcosa di inspiegabilmente sinistro in una macchina che non fa nient’altro – assolutamente nient’altro – che spegnere se stessa.»
Arthur C. Clarke, Voice Across the Sea, 1958
