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Interview // APR 2026

CCDDBB (Claudio Dalla Bernardina)

Title: Following The Line
Role: Generative artist
Platform: fx(hash)
Duration: 1h 10m
Hosts: Will & Trinity
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#080 · Following The Line
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1h 10m
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Will: All right, hello and welcome everyone to another episode of Waiting to Be Signed. It's a special interview episode today, just Will on the mic. We've got artist CCDDBB, who, if you're a longtime fx(hash) collector or an artist from the community, you surely know. Real name, Claudio Dalla Bernardina. So happy to have you on -- it's been great getting to know you more over the last year or so, chatting about your art and your upcoming project, which we'll get to later. As usual, the intro question: can you let us know your background in art and coding as a way to introduce yourself to the listeners?

CCDDBB (Claudio Dalla Bernardina): Hi, nice to be here. You have no idea how honored I am to be on Waiting to Be Signed. For me, the history of fx(hash) is intertwined with your podcast. And I want to say that both you and Trinity are really lovely in what you've done -- the way you speak, the quiet tone, the way you put every guest at ease. It's very nice. Really, this is a dream come true.

Will: Appreciate it. Thank you.

CCDDBB (Claudio Dalla Bernardina): My pleasure. So, way back when I was a kid -- I'm close to my 50s now -- my first encounter with computers was around age six. I used to go to a friend's house; his parents had gifted him a Commodore VIC-20. We played with that machine constantly and felt like we had access to something magical. Then one day his parents gave him a Commodore 64, so he handed me his old VIC-20. I took it home, plugged it in, and that was the beginning of everything. I fell in love immediately. In the box were two books -- the manual and a BASIC programming guide -- and I started copying the commands. The first program I ever ran was two stupid seagulls made of ASCII characters flying around the screen, but I was hooked. You write text and get an animation out of it -- I thought that was incredible.

My uncle was also very tech-savvy and always had computers. I used to play early MS-DOS games like Alley Cat and the one where you cross the street, whenever we visited for Christmas or holidays. He eventually gave my father an IBM notebook 286, black and white, which my father never connected with, so it sat unused until I claimed it. That became my first real computer, and it was love at first sight. I spent countless hours tinkering with the autoexec.bat just to free up memory to run games. I was deep into software piracy too -- this was before the internet, so you had to copy floppy disks from friends. And I loved the games: all the LucasArts adventures -- Monkey Island, Zak McKracken, Maniac Mansion, Indiana Jones. So many fond memories there.

Then the internet arrived. I come from a small village in Italy, about 5,000 people, and that same friend with the VIC-20 got the first modem and internet connection in the village. We struck a deal: he'd use it during the day, and I'd use it at night for a small fee. I'd stay up trying to hide the modem noise from my parents -- which didn't really work, especially once the phone bills showed up. But my mother understood it was something I was passionate about and just told me to keep up with school. So I was sleeping in early morning classes because I'd been up until 4 or 5 AM downloading a single image over a BBS connection.

From there I learned HTML, even before JavaScript existed, then JavaScript itself -- I was maybe 15. People started needing websites and catalogs, and since I was basically the only one in my small village who knew this stuff, they came to me. I was using Photoshop version 1. By 18 I already had small business clients. Around the same time I got seriously into art and visual graphics, so when it came time for university, I moved to Milan and did a bachelor's in fine arts with a media design specialization -- a very new program at the time.

There I met Oliver, a close friend who'd emigrated from Serbia right after the war -- a really tough time for them. He's a genius: an incredible range of knowledge in computers, art, 3D animation, shaders, music -- an amazing bass player too. We studied together, moved in together, and eventually opened a company doing 3D animation and real-time 3D with a software I loved called Virtuoz, well before Unity existed. After three or four years we were mostly producing media for events -- pharmaceutical companies and the like -- which I didn't enjoy, but we needed the money. Neither of us was really cut out for business; we were creative but not good at building one, and things fell apart. I left in debt and unhappy, and we closed the company. But what I learned in those years, thanks especially to Oliver and the whole Milan/university context, really shaped my path.

That's also where I got into photography. There was a course at university, so I bought my first camera, a cheap secondhand Yashica, and fell in love with photography instantly -- this was film, before digital, so there was a real cost to every shot and every roll developed. I had a small darkroom. I started doing reportage photography on the side, which is still probably what I love most. Since moving to Thailand I haven't done it again, but it lets you enter realities and travel to places you'd otherwise never access. It teaches you to blend into the background, observe, become empathetic with your surroundings -- people accept you because you're there for a purpose. Amazing profession, but there's no money in it; I never made a living from it. I did backstage work for music videos, films, events. But like anything you love, once you have to compromise to make money from it, you risk losing the excitement that drew you in. I never quite found that balance.

Eventually I moved back to Garda, my home village, because my mother was sick and I wanted to stay until things were resolved. I connected with a video production company in Bolzano, up in the mountains, and by chance ended up as executive producer -- which was a joke, since I had no idea what that meant, but they were desperate for someone willing to do it for a travel documentary: Italy to Cape Town by Jeep in two and a half months. Honestly the best adventure of my life. I met Yuri there, a great friend, a very good director and film producer. When we got back we opened a video production company together, which lasted a couple of years, focused on documentaries -- reportage again, letting us into the most interesting situations. We made two documentaries about autism, a subject I care about deeply, partly for personal reasons, and had some modest festival success. But we were still doing commercials and infographics on the side just to make a living. And I was getting older, and Italy is unforgiving about taxes and bureaucracy -- a genuinely terrible place to work in media. I'd always wanted to leave, and I love developing countries.

Then, by chance, a friend who owned restaurants in Italy told me he had one in Thailand he desperately needed to offload because he had no manager left, even though he thought it had potential. As a joke, I told him I'd be his man. He was skeptical -- fair enough, since I could barely tell a fork from a knife, and I'd never even been to Thailand. It was a blind call. But he was desperate enough to sell everything and leave, so he said, let's try it. That was about ten or eleven years ago. I moved to Thailand, started working in the restaurant, and essentially forgot my old life. I packed everything into one small bag -- a notebook was the only thing I brought. I realized afterward I was much happier without all my books, equipment, cameras, computers -- objects can enslave you. You care about your things, but they also give you anxiety. The idea that I could fit my whole life in one bag and be free completely changed my perspective. Living somewhere so simple, where you stop caring how you dress or what you own -- I've always despised bourgeois excess, but here it's next level. Life flows more quietly and easily.

So I found myself in Thailand managing a restaurant. It wasn't easy at first, but it's not a difficult job once you get the hang of it -- it depends entirely on your staff. With good staff, it's easy; you don't need to think too hard about finding customers or being creative. Much less heavy on the mind. I basically forgot about computers, though I still did some photography on the side. Then COVID came, and that changed everything -- the restaurant closed for two and a half years.

Will: Oh, wow.

CCDDBB (Claudio Dalla Bernardina): Completely closed. The island shut down -- it was one of the first places in the world to do so. People said, oh, the Thais are stupid, but they were actually smart and ahead of the curve: after two months, we were COVID-free. Then for two years we basically had a private island -- the best years of my life, hands down. Meanwhile my father, a doctor in Italy, and his wife, also a doctor, were living through full-power COVID back home, and I'd talk to them on the phone every day.

Will: I remember the earliest reports were coming out of northern Italy — those small towns with elderly populations in particular were really suffering under that initial wave. Was COVID, like it was for Trinity and me, when you started getting interested in blockchain and NFTs? That seems like a really common entry point for a lot of people, since all of a sudden you had all this time on your hands.

CCDDBB (Claudio Dalla Bernardina): Actually, I was into blockchain long before that — I bought my restaurant by selling my Bitcoin, which still haunts me today. I bought my first Bitcoin for about $180. I watched the Ethereum ICO expiring, completely broke, watching the counter tick down, and I couldn't send any Bitcoin in time. I thought, "No, I'd better not spend on this stuff right now." Big mistake. Then I slowly built up a nice stash of Bitcoin and Ethereum. I even had Dogecoin, back when they sold it as "MegaDoge" — it was so cheap it came in bulk packs of a million each. Imagine that.

When I decided to buy the restaurant, I was broke. I sold my camera, my lenses, everything — but I didn't want to sell the crypto, because I really believed it was the future. My friends and family were tired of listening to me go on about it. Now they all say they should have listened. In the end, I sold all my crypto to buy the restaurant, and of course, three months later it started to rally hard. Since then I've always bought back in, and I became passionate about trading. I'm honestly a pretty good trader — very much in profit. I've generally sold near the top and bought near the bottom, so I'm happy about that. Most of what I've achieved, including surviving COVID, came from buying and selling crypto — from buying the restaurant to everything else. I love it for that reason.

I had Tezos from their ICO too, but that was stuck for a while because of the lawsuit, so it wasn't going anywhere. Then, because I was following the Tezos ecosystem, Hic Et Nunc showed up on my radar during COVID. That was the first time I really looked into NFTs — I'd heard about CryptoPunks before but never dug in. With Hic Et Nunc I thought, let's check this out. I discovered it about three days after launch and started minting. I'm a little ashamed to say I started botting the successful drops — I remember buying like 100 editions out of 150 on some. People were pissed. I stopped doing that eventually; the more I became part of the community, the more I felt for it. Part of me still thinks you have the right to do that if you're more tech-savvy — it's a free, anarchist kind of economy — but I can see the downside too.

I started minting and exploring. At one point I had maybe eight different profiles, each with its own Twitter. It was like a full-time job, experimenting with different styles.

Will: When you say minting, you mean you were publishing your own work too?

CCDDBB (Claudio Dalla Bernardina): Yes. I had a profile called Harvey McFly that had its moment of glory on Hic Et Nunc. I was making six-second looping animations of pyramids, and they sold out quickly. But I don't like winning easy — I like new challenges. I hadn't done 3D animation in a long time, so I had to relearn everything: 3D sculpting, rigging, animation, all of it, since so much had changed and I was rusty. With each new pyramid I raised the bar, until they were taking a month, forty days to make, working six or seven hours every day and night. Mornings I was spearfishing, afternoons playing padel — that was my COVID life — and at night I was making pyramids as Harvey McFly. It got some attention and success, but it was too much work; I realized it couldn't last.

I never believed the NFT boom would last — crypto goes in cycles by nature. Honestly, I'm not a true believer in the value of NFTs even today. I think they still have to find their way. There's a lot of potential, but if you remove the speculation, there's often not much left.

So with my main profile, which became CCDDBB, I started making interactive generative work — publishing HTML pages on Hic Et Nunc. I think I was one of the early ones doing interactive 3D there. I made a kaleidoscope series that was well collected and liked. That's how I really got into NFTs.

But then, you know me a little by now — I can be critical. If something isn't as I think it should be, I speak out. I started criticizing Rafael and Hic Et Nunc. I'd gotten close to some people there — I won't name them, since they've moved on with their lives, some building nice platforms, some just giving up — but they were all screwed by Rafael, who promised people money and equity and structure, while meanwhile he wasn't even paying for the bandwidth and servers. It became a joke; Hic Et Nunc was always broken. Then I started noticing fund movements to Binance, and when I questioned it, I got kicked out of the Discord. I remember Mikol from Vertical Crypto trying to ask him about it. He just complained that "the ugly colonizers" wanted to take over his platform, and then ran off with the money — which, to be fair, was his money, nothing wrong with that legally, but I don't think he was transparent about his intentions.

That really set me back, because it was the first time I realized how dangerous it is to speak your mind online. If you get censored on a platform, it's game over — you completely lose your voice and your ability to participate. That was a lesson for sure. For a while I just stopped participating. Then fx(hash) came along, and everything connected. Generative art, coding, JavaScript, the browser, real-time 3D — I could do whatever I wanted. My whole background in art, composition, video games, everything finally connected for the first time in my life. Everything had a place, everything fit together, and that's when I fell in love with generative art and started publishing on fx(hash).

Will: I was barely around for the whole dissolution of Hic Et Nunc — I'd been collecting a little there just because a friend told me about Tezos, and that was the only place I knew to buy anything with it. My wife and I took a trip while she was pregnant — in the US we call it a "babymoon," one last trip before the baby arrives — and it was while we were away that I saw on Twitter all the fallout: he left, HEN is gone. It was only a month or two later that I found fx(hash). You mentioned that closure is what got you interested in generative art. But some of the projects I see on OBJKT under your McFly wallet — these frogs of the past, these 3D sculptures — were those made by hand?

CCDDBB (Claudio Dalla Bernardina): Those are all AI.

Will: So those are more recent, post-fx(hash)?

CCDDBB (Claudio Dalla Bernardina): Yes, more recent. I still use that profile — I like exploring the ability to get coherence out of AI. I make projects where I refine prompts and use reference images to get a large number of coherent, polished outputs. Frogs of the Past, for example, was made with very early language models — you can see the defects. The most recent one, called Heads, is more recent: 100 outputs that took me a long time to make. Also made with language models, but much more refined — I managed to get coherence in the outputs, the pedestals, everything, which I thought was impossible with language models. It turns out it's not, if you refine your prompts and keep feeding consistent reference images.

That doesn't fit with my main generative art practice. Harvey McFly is dumb — I made the dumbest kingdom, and I'm often a silly person; I like joking, not taking things too seriously. McFly is the side of me where I publish stuff that's sillier and more fun, and I use it to experiment, but I never sell any of it. At first I thought selling AI-generated work wasn't fair. My mind's changed on that — I see value in it now — but still, those pieces just sit there. It's not about selling, it's about history, about having provenance recorded for what I do as McFly. Sometimes I have an idea, I go back to McFly, make it, publish it — sometimes I don't even post about it on Twitter, because McFly has basically zero reach at this point. Nobody gives a shit about him.

The last thing I made manually as McFly was The Dumbest Kingdom, which I'm honestly very proud of — maybe it sounds silly, but it's one of the things I'm proudest of in my life. A hundred little characters, 8-by-8 pixels. If you've ever tried to make something meaningful at 8 by 8, you know how little room for movement there is. I made one or two a day for a long time, each with its own little silly story. I sold them at first, then decided to stop selling and started gifting them to artists I like and admire. Slowly I've been building this silly community of inhabitants.

Will: That explains it — I was looking through when you shared that, and I saw a link to "adopt," but I couldn't figure out how to buy one. I wasn't sure if the platform just wasn't working anymore, but you have a list of everyone who's got one — I see Zancan, Punevyr, TheFunnyGuys, Mario Klingemann.

CCDDBB (Claudio Dalla Bernardina): The names are pulled from the blockchain — people who have them in their wallets, people I connected with and asked if they'd like one. Some bought the early ones when they were still for sale, but pretty soon I removed the listing and stopped selling them entirely. It's just a side project. I have this idea of doing a DAO one day — the Dumbest Autonomous Organization — to promote art and things like that. But that's a silly dream for another day.

Will: Let's get back to fx(hash), then. Looking at your CCDDBB profile, I feel like you had an arc similar to a lot of people who got into generative art — early work that looks like sketches, learning to create algorithmically. You already had a JavaScript background, so I'm sure that part came easy. But what were those early days on fx(hash) like for you? Walk us through publishing work back in the glory days.

CCDDBB (Claudio Dalla Bernardina): My first project was Kaleidos Triangle, taken from those experiments I mentioned before on Hic Et Nunc, using HTML and Babylon.js, a library for 3D. I sometimes use Three.js, but I prefer Babylon.js—it's more straightforward, very powerful, and similar to Three.js. I was doing kaleidoscopes in real-time 3D, playing with shaders and textures and effects on the texture, and I made Penrose triangles—the impossible triangle—with these kaleidoscopic textures. I published it in the first month fx(hash) existed, if I remember correctly, and it sold out. There's actually a bug in the thumbnail capture—some ended up with a black thumbnail. So that was my first project, and it came together quickly because I basically recycled what I'd been doing on Hic Et Nunc, just with this new Penrose triangle shape.

The projects that followed were more like sketches and experiments. Honestly, if I could go back, I wouldn't publish them.

Will: I think a lot of people say that now.

CCDDBB (Claudio Dalla Bernardina): For sure. When you look at your past work, you get a different point of view. I knew JavaScript, but I knew nothing about generative art. And I have to say—my fondest memories, something that's sadly lost now with language models, are the people who taught me everything: Marching Square, one of the founders of OBJKT, a very good friend; Pure Spider; Shig, NFT Shig—all those people were my crew during COVID times in the NFT space. We spent days in Discord talking and chatting, and everything I know, everything I learned, I owe to them. They had a much higher technical level than I did. They taught me everything—noise, Perlin noise, simplex noise, filling curves, marching cubes, marching squares. I suck at math, so that was a real barrier. Some of my code was literally written by them. All lovely people with a passion for sharing and teaching without anything in return, and I learned so much about generative art techniques thanks to them.

You can probably tell from the early works, like with many other artists, exactly when someone discovered noise or started tinkering with different algorithms. Then I started developing a more sophisticated approach. I don't think many generative artists on fx(hash) have really explored the full potential of algorithmic art—there's a tendency to narrow the outputs a lot. Part of that probably comes from the need to move fast in a world that iterates quickly, and part of it comes from collectors preferring recognizable things. When you narrow the aesthetic of the outputs, it becomes much more recognizable, and I've noticed a lot of successful projects have a very narrow aesthetic.

For me, that always felt like a limitation, so I started introducing profiles in projects like Noisy Gardens or Furry Gradients. Check them out—you'll see completely different profiles within the same project. This let me introduce rarity in a more meaningful way. I find it a little cheap when rarity is just "this one has a black background, this one has a pink background"—that's a very basic use of rarity that doesn't unlock the true potential of generative art, in my opinion.

FurryGradients — CCDDBB (Claudio Dalla Bernardina)

With profiles, I'd have a main algorithm and then all the various profiles branching off it. In Noisy Gardens, for example, you have the pond, the river, the farm. You assign a probability to each profile, and you end up with rare profiles instead of simply rare colors or palettes. It unlocks a lot of possibilities, but it also requires much more work—those algorithms took me almost two months each. With Furry Gradients, the core algorithm didn't take long, but building all the profiles and exploring different creative ideas around it did. It's something I still do, and I'm doing it now with my Plottable Mesh project. I'd love to see this approach used more, because it really opens things up. Too often I see algorithms that are beautiful but only produce 300 or 500 outputs that all end up looking similar, when the potential was there to create much more variety.

So yeah, some of the projects I published are basically sketches, as you said—nice, but nothing I'm particularly proud of. Others have real meaning. Milena's Flowers is one I like—an early project using circle packing, so the flowers never overlap and create a nice composition.

Will: The first piece I remember collecting from you was probably from two or three years ago—2023, Power Ranges. After that, everything you put on fx(hash) looks very plottable: Line Length, then Mount St. Helene, Astro Doodles. Was Power Ranges actually plottable? It kind of looks like it could be.

PowerRanges — CCDDBB (Claudio Dalla Bernardina)

CCDDBB (Claudio Dalla Bernardina): You're correct, it could be. I consider it a failed project, honestly. There's a sweet spot when you're working on an algorithm where you should just stop—you should fucking stop—and with Power Ranges, I didn't. Looking at the outputs now, I don't like probably 85-90% of them. My algorithms get very complex in terms of parameters, and when you have that level of interplay between variables, it's delicate—you have to be careful, because it's a balance that's easy to break. With Power Ranges, I definitely broke it. It's not plottable, and technically it's not well made—very heavy. I later learned different techniques to make things more performant and plottable. Maybe one day I'll revisit it. But right now, no, it's not plottable, and every time I look at it I feel a little sad, because at one point I thought that algorithm had great potential, and it just didn't pan out that way.

As you say, that was the last project I did that wasn't plottable. For that shift we can blame Zancan—I've always loved his work. I think he's the most mature artist in this space. It's not a coincidence that he was a painter first; he comes from a background in art even more than computers, though he's also incredibly skilled as a coder. He made Charcoal Seed, that incredible algorithm—beautiful, beautiful—and the way he uses the line to hatch around the scene is magical. I spent hours just following the line, watching how it behaves, the curvature, how it runs around the scene, marking objects, defining empty spaces, filling areas. That's when I thought, this is something I want to learn and understand. That's how I ended up obsessed with the single line—I started playing with it, and at some point I thought: let's just keep it intact, never break it.

So I dug into this world of one-liners—like Picasso, Matisse, other painters who worked this way. It's recurrent throughout art history; many artists have practiced one-line portraits. Then there's the amazing work of Piter Pasma, who built a one-liner hatching algorithm that's magical, and used it for several projects. I fell in love with one-liners, and it's an obsession I still have.

I also thought this could be my way of becoming recognizable. To be a successful artist, I think you need something people associate with you, and that's something I never had—if you look at my projects, I keep jumping from one thing to another, I get bored quickly, I keep changing. If you keep changing, you never really establish a style or a name tied to something specific. With one-liners, I thought this might be my opportunity to become more recognizable. And the challenge and constraint of working within a single line were exciting to me. I developed so many techniques—scripts for adding decorations, bending the line, never breaking it.

That's how I made Line Length -1, a project I really love, for Atelier—it's about death. There are 16 different outputs, if I remember correctly, each with text, lyrics. I wrote half of them, and I asked dear friends—Shig, Paul Prudence—to write the others. Piers Spider too—I asked them for a sentence or a concept, and I put it into words. Also Whitekross, Alessandro Fiore, an amazing generative artist with a great touch—everything he touches is beautiful, and you made a project with him too. He's the one who connected me with Atelier, so I really love that project.

Mount St. Helene is made for my partner, Silvia. In each output there's a couple holding hands, but there's a little secret: if you open it in the browser and add a variable to the URL—`kids=1`—you get one kid, because we knew we wanted kids but didn't have one yet. You can add up to five or six kids, I don't remember exactly. Now I actually have a kid, so maybe I'll plot one with one kid. It's volcanoes because Silvia loves volcanoes, she's obsessed with them. So I made her this Mount St. Helene—the name is brilliant, and it was given by Marching Square.

PowerRanges — CCDDBB (Claudio Dalla Bernardina)

I stayed obsessed with the single line even after I stopped publishing on fx(hash) when they shut down—I kept working on it, and you can find plenty of other one-liners on my website. Then my daughter was born, and I felt like I needed color in my life again. I love the single line, but I needed color back. That's how I started developing Plottable Mesh.

Will: I've been doing my best to get the word out by reposting it on Twitter.

CCDDBB (Claudio Dalla Bernardina): That's nice of you.

Will: It's not a single line, I imagine—multiple colors—but surely a lot of what you learned coding all those plotter projects fed into this one. And you've kept working on it; every month or so, the outputs you share look markedly different, like you've added another branch, another style to the array of outputs. It seems like the project could easily support thousands of outputs by generative standards. So, do you consider it done yet? We talked a bit last year about you trying to find a place to release it, but you've kept developing it since. How do you see it now—is it a project that's just going to live on social media, or is it still looking for a home? Tell us more about it.

CCDDBB (Claudio Dalla Bernardina): First of all, owning a restaurant has been very freeing because I don't need to monetize my art, which really unlocked something for me. I do whatever I like. If I'm not in the mood, I don't do it. If nobody wants to buy it, I don't care. Absolutely don't care.

I don't have a lot of respect for the critical level in the crypto art space, which is pretty low. Everyone should take a quick course in art history and realize that 99% of the things we were promoting as extraordinary are not. If you follow artists on Instagram, you'll see the amount of talent and amazing work coming out every day outside the crypto space is stunning, and most of what we see in crypto is copied from that, or a blended version of it.

PowerRanges — CCDDBB (Claudio Dalla Bernardina)

What I find interesting right now is that galleries and curatorial efforts are emerging. I have a lot of respect for realities like Verse and the HEFT Gallery, all these entities fostering quality, promoting artists, and helping them build a sustainable path. That interests me much more right now.

I also think it's time to rethink how we share art. I've had this in mind for a long time. Historically, artists always protected their craft and the ability to produce physical works, which represent an economic return, but also give you control over the production and its quality. Releasing algorithms in the open, like we do with generative art, is very "pop," but it kills those opportunities at the same time. People can print out their outputs — I've done it myself, I have beautiful impressions on my wall that I printed, and the artist got nothing from it. You can also copy, learn from, or study other people's algorithms, which is especially dangerous now in the age of AI, since it's very easy to rip off someone's work and build on top of it without them getting anything.

I see many artists now taking a different approach: releasing a curated series of outputs but not releasing the code. You have to connect with the artist or gallery if you want a print. That makes sense to me.

So, going back to Plottable Mess — at the beginning I wanted to release it on fx(hash). Then I discovered they were sunsetting Tezos support, and honestly, I got pissed, because for a long time they'd said the opposite, even to me personally. They guaranteed Tezos would remain. Then, "Ah, no, sorry, Tezos no more." I can understand that — it's their platform, their decision, and I see the rationale. But then they made this, in my opinion, really unfair move of making $art coins mandatory. They'd told me privately, "Please publish that algorithm on fx(hash), you can use the $fxh token to mint it, you don't need $art coins." Then when the time came: oh, $art coins are mandatory.

PlottableMess — CCDDBB (Claudio Dalla Bernardina)

That upset me for a couple of reasons. First, I don't believe in tokenizing everything — I find that very prone to distortion. Second, I think it destroys liquidity. We already had a liquidity problem in generative art, and we need to find balance with the cyclical nature of crypto and the fact that these platforms need to survive the winters of the cycle. There was no liquidity, and I didn't see how fragmenting it into a million $art coins could help. Reality has proven me right lately — there's still no liquidity in them, and they introduced a complexity that persists. If you check their Discord now, the last real conversation is probably some NFT veteran — someone who knows their fair share about how blockchain works — confused about why they can't buy using the token, and fx(hash) saying, "Yeah, we're talking with the providers and stuff." If those people, who are basically the only ones left, are confused, imagine regular collectors and artists.

All this made me decide not to publish on fx(hash) anymore. I also don't believe in layer twos — I think that's a contradiction in terms of decentralization. If we go blockchain, we go decentralized; otherwise it doesn't make much sense to me, especially a layer two on Ethereum.

Then there's the legal aspect. When I raised the matter, it was dismissed: "Oh yeah, our lawyers looked into it, it's totally fine." But I live in Thailand, and I can assure you, you don't want to find yourself explaining to the revenue department what the fuck an $art coin is, how it works, and why it's totally innocent. Laws can change, but the blockchain is unforgiving — it doesn't change. Many people live in countries where this could be a real issue. I talk to a lot of artists and collectors behind the scenes, and very few are willing to speak publicly. Most people have been alienated by all this.

That's why in the end I decided not to publish Plottable Mess on fx(hash), and I think that was for the best. I don't have much reach or a big audience, especially now in the crypto winter, so I just kept working on it. Now I have more than 100 profiles, and I keep exploring new directions. I introduced kaleidoscopes — one day I thought, what if I make a kaleidoscope script? I cut them into pieces, and that's how the tessellation kaleidoscopes came about.

PlottableMess — CCDDBB (Claudio Dalla Bernardina)

I keep exploring the algorithm and keep plotting, experimenting with different papers and pens — gel pens, technical pens, cardboard, black paper. It's very hard to find reliable ones; most pens let you down maybe 80% of the way through a plot, which is something I actually love about plotting. It takes so much time and effort to get to the end, and one little mistake or a clogged pen can spoil hours of patience — but that's exactly what adds value to the final product. You can perceive that effort when it all comes together, and there's real satisfaction in that. I owe a lot of this to Zancan — looking at his plots, the level of precision and quality he reaches, really inspired me. Amazing.

Will: Given the depth of everything you've shared — and we'll link to it in the show notes, of course, and people should follow CCDDBB on Twitter and Instagram where you've been sharing outputs too, there's tons of great stuff to go back through — I've been really impressed for a while now and eagerly waiting to collect. But I'm curious: given that depth, would you ideally want to release it as a long-form project somewhere, or is this something you'd rather curate? We've talked about this before — the different ways you could release it. Andreas Rau had his calendar project years back, posting one a day as a one-of-one anyone could buy. You could curate it over time, or curate a big batch, or now, with something like Bootloader, maybe do a long-form release and let people pay extra to get a plot. Ideally, how would you want to release it?

CCDDBB (Claudio Dalla Bernardina): At this point, I'm pretty sure I don't want to release the algorithm. There's so much work in it, so many techniques I developed, that I honestly don't want to make it public. I've grown very protective of the code, especially after those reflections I just shared. I'm less inclined every day to release it — I will not do a long form where people mint from the code.

I would love to do a curated series, though. I really loved the pixel shader series — the last one done with the HEFT Gallery. That was amazing, beautifully curated, and you also had the option to acquire the physical piece, made by hand, and it's incredible how the artist managed to capture the same feeling and texture as the algorithm. That's the ideal.

The more I work on this, the more I realize — since I have all the history published on Instagram and Twitter — I'll sometimes scroll back and find outputs I don't even remember making. "Oh wow, look at this one — oh yeah, now I recall that." I also have a stack of plotted pieces I should do something with, because the humidity in Thailand will ruin them if I just leave them in my desk to rot. I have at least 50 already plotted and finished, ranging from A3+ down to 16 by 16 centimeters. So I have a lot of material ready. But at the same time, it's never finished — maybe it never will be. I'm enjoying the process, enjoying plotting them.

I did try to sell a few. Three weeks ago I listed five nice A4 pieces on black paper with gel pens on OBJKT for 300 Tezos each — about $100, basically free — and I didn't sell any.

PlottableMess — CCDDBB (Claudio Dalla Bernardina)

Will: I totally missed that.

CCDDBB (Claudio Dalla Bernardina): I have very little reach lately. Part of it is that I keep posting the same series, just changing the output number, and Twitter's algorithm likes new content — so that doesn't help. Also, things aren't exactly shiny in the space right now, so I don't have much reach. I ended up delisting them — it didn't make sense to sell one or two and have them just out there. They're still minted, but delisted.

I had a little talk about this with Jamie from Verse and with Adam from HEFT Gallery. Both showed appreciation for the series but couldn't envision a place for it in their curatorial space at the moment. That's probably where I'd like it to end up — with a nice gallery I respect, that takes care of the promotional side too, which is something I really lack and don't enjoy. Marketing isn't in my court. That's what I'd like: a curated series from an entity I respect, that makes it shine. Otherwise, it can just sit there, and that's fine too. Let's move on to the next thing.

Lately I'm very relaxed. I've always made art only because I enjoy it. Then with COVID, money started flowing around — and money is necessary, but it's also corrosive. It corrupts everything, including your thinking; you start making decisions based on money rather than what you actually enjoy or want to achieve. That's also why production in this space is often cheap — people prioritize speed, rushing to market when conditions are favorable, and that doesn't foster quality. Add to that the tendency to promote your own bags, or whatever's already in the spotlight, and it becomes very hard for emerging artists to get seen.

Right now is actually the best moment, because the people who were here for the money have left. Speculators are nowhere to be seen. The people still doing art are doing it because they need to, love to, and want to share it. It's a very healthy, beautiful moment for the space — we need to find our purpose, foster quality, and build something meaningful with a chance at longevity, instead of just flowing in this river of speculative generative tokens that come and go fast. Lately I've seen a lot of beautiful work made by people who really care, promoted by people who are knowledgeable and care too. I really like what's going on.

Will: I think we're all really uncertain about what's going to happen in the space over the next year or two, however long this next bear market rides out. It feels like the bull market never came to art and NFTs this time around, so a lot of platforms that were banking on something similar to 2021 happening again just didn't get it. I don't know if that means there's an opportunity for fresh creators to come in with new platforms and ideas whenever we're lucky enough to see interest return, or if it just means we're stuck with this more closed, curated experience—galleries, platforms like Verse, that kind of selectiveness. Hard to say what's preferable. We had so much fun in those early days just minting stuff, but a lot of our tastes have changed. Looking back, plenty of the early things we got excited about, we wouldn't be so excited about anymore.

PlottableMess — CCDDBB (Claudio Dalla Bernardina)

CCDDBB (Claudio Dalla Bernardina): The question we should all ask ourselves is: where would that excitement be if we removed money from the equation? That's where the true answer lies. It's easy to get excited when there's money to be made. Money is necessary, money is useful, money can foster quality and beauty, but it can't be the main driver. In crypto, money is the main driver—always has been. And crypto suffers from this constant lie of "we do it for the culture," whatever that means. I find it ridiculous. We say we do it for whatever reason, when in reality it's because there's money to be made. I include myself in that, though I don't think I'm one of the worst offenders. Plenty of others have simply disappeared now that there's no money to be made.

So that's the question: what are we building? Art isn't necessary—from an economic point of view it's totally useless. So why are we doing art? Why are we buying it? Why are we buying tokens on a blockchain? Those are questions we should ask ourselves. And maybe if the answer is "to make money," we should rethink the paradigm, or just be honest and face the fact that we're trading Pokémon cards dressed up as generative tokens. Be honest about it—there are cycles, and if you enter well, like with Bitcoin, you can make money. If you get stuck holding the short end, you get wrecked and lose it. That's what happened with all these projects. I won't name names, but I see people coping hard—"this is a good moment to buy"—and then a month later the floor drops further, and it's "no, actually now is the good moment to buy." No. The real question is: how was it ever so expensive in the first place? That was never justified.

With physical work, I think we're going back to a more sustainable nature of things. I like that we can have tangible expressions of an algorithm and an artist's production. They can be shown in galleries, they can be sold, they have real rarity, and they survive a blockchain bug, a power outage, or IPFS expiring. I like that.

Will: But are you still a long-term believer in things like Bitcoin and Ethereum—L1s, at least? Do you believe in them as technology, or only to the extent that they'll continue to be a speculative trading opportunity?

CCDDBB (Claudio Dalla Bernardina): The world tends to be a very polarized place in general. If you're not white, you play with the blacks; if you're not black, you play with the whites. Try to stay in the middle and it's very hard to survive—neither side likes you. There's no gray team.

About blockchain: since day one I thought it was brilliant. When I read the Ethereum white paper before Vitalik actually created Ethereum, I thought, if he really manages to build a Turing machine on a blockchain, this is going to be a game changer. It was brilliant, and I was hoping he'd pull it off—and he did, and he changed the world forever with it, along with Bitcoin.

PlottableMess — CCDDBB (Claudio Dalla Bernardina)

But at the same time, I see the downsides. We like to say "not your keys, not your money," but someone can break into your house, point a gun at your daughter, and take everything you own. If your money's in a bank, that can't happen the same way. Or if you lose your keys, you lose everything. There are so many ways this has favored crime. People say blockchain is transparent—it is, technically, but if the effort required to see what's happening, combined with the interplay of different countries' legal frameworks, makes enforcement too hard or too expensive, it becomes a great instrument for illegal activity. I myself have used crypto in ways that weren't exactly transparent or legal. There are pros and cons.

Decentralization is a beautiful thing, and transparency is something I truly believe in, but it needs frameworks. I don't think a sustainable society can run on a truly decentralized system, because you need to be able to enforce the law and fix mistakes. You can't just say, "Oh, we burned $3 billion, sorry guys." And you need a stable currency to build economies—everyone should have learned that by now. People pretend it's cool to hold Ethereum or Tezos as currency—well, maybe not Tezos, given its price action—but it's only nice as long as the price keeps rising. You do nothing and get richer, measured in fiat, because in the end we all think in fiat, not in Ethereum. Growing without doing anything isn't healthy—just as it isn't healthy to lose everything because things turned the other way. I don't know much about economics, but I do know that a reliable, working economy needs stability, needs a stable currency. Crypto is not that. When fx(hash) said they were going to price everything in US dollars, I thought, finally, someone's seeing the light. But it turned out to just be a conversion display—it's not that everything actually works in dollars, it's that the conversion makes things even more confusing, because one day it says $100 and the next day $90, and you wonder why you're paying more or less for the same thing you saw yesterday. That's not what I had in mind.

I'm a believer in the decentralized technology of blockchain. I believe there are real use cases for NFTs—controlled randomness, fair distribution, transparency. Decentralization could bring so much to the table that would genuinely improve humanity and the world as a whole. But as usual, what I'm seeing isn't heading in that direction. I have the feeling that whoever's in control is using all of this to their advantage, a lot of people are getting screwed in the meantime, and a lot of people are simply playing black or white without really understanding what's going on, because it's a complex subject and technology with a lot of shades—it requires knowledge you don't need just to use an ATM card. So yes, I'm a believer, but not in the sense that crypto should replace the traditional finance system. We should keep the best of both and try to finally build a more transparent, fair, honest, and safe space for everyone. Do I believe that will happen? Not at all. Do I think it has the potential? For sure. Blockchain technology could be a genuinely useful tool for getting there.

Will: My main concern right now is just deciding whether I want to get back in for one more cycle, or whether I think we're topped out as an industry. But that's a whole other discussion, a whole other podcast.

CCDDBB (Claudio Dalla Bernardina): I want as many cycles as they'll give me.

Will: Same. But I'm fearful after this one—it felt like a real dud of a cycle, to be honest. Anyway, unfortunately I'm the one with a hard out today, but we covered a lot of what I wanted to talk to you about. Before we go—anything else you want to plug? Sometimes we like to ask if there's any music or media you want to mention, anything for the listeners who made it this far to go check out.

PlottableMess — CCDDBB (Claudio Dalla Bernardina)

CCDDBB (Claudio Dalla Bernardina): Music is something I really love—I'm terrible at it, sadly. I have a piano, but the piano doesn't like me when I get close to it. I listen to all kinds of music every day, always looking for something new to fill my life. I hope my daughter grows up with a lot of music too—I play her something different every day, from classical to rap to reggae to progressive, whatever. But if I have to name someone I keep coming back to, it's Andrew Bird. Really one of a kind. There's also a band called Melte—a huge band, lots of people in it.

Will: There's one thing I wanted to ask you about that we didn't get to—I'll cut this in—about the wallet. I realized the first project of yours I collected was actually There and Then, the one you released with the wallet.

CCDDBB (Claudio Dalla Bernardina): Sure, the wallet. Yeah, that's a nice one—happy to talk about it if you want.

Will: Yeah, if you can give me the quick version, since I do have to go.

CCDDBB (Claudio Dalla Bernardina): Let's try to pack this down. The wallet project was born thanks to Django Beat, a user on Twitter. I don't know him personally, but I know he's a hardcore Ethereum and crypto guy. One day he just published the seed phrase of a Tezos wallet — it works on Ethereum too — and made it public, with a few Tezos or whatever sitting in it. I was the first person on Twitter to see the post, put the seed phrase into a wallet app, and access it. From there, people started using it, and it created this weird, beautiful dynamic where anybody could publish from the wallet.

Many artists did it, especially on type.art — the ASCII text platform on Tezos that doesn't exist anymore. Mario Klingemann was one of the people using it, if I remember right. And you could never really be sure who was publishing, since anyone with the seed phrase could say "I'm you" and there was no way to know otherwise.

PlottableMess — CCDDBB (Claudio Dalla Bernardina)

As soon as money started flowing into the wallet, people started botting it to steal it out — like the honeypot addresses you see on Ethereum. So it became harder and harder to mint from it, because to mint you needed to put money in, and the moment you did, somebody would drain it. It became basically inaccessible because of greed, which is a beautiful, interesting dynamic in itself.

I used it for a long time — publishing on type.art, collecting with it. I also found other wallets that were siblings of this one, funded from its outflow, where you similarly never know who's behind them — you find one of these sibling wallets and create another profile with it. Many of us really enjoyed that. Eventually it became unusable because of the bots, and it got mostly forgotten.

Then at some point an NFT profile — I don't know who it is — that had been following the wallet since the early days and reporting on what was being published, sent me a message on Twitter suggesting I do something on fx(hash) using the wallet. I thought that was a brilliant idea, since it had never occurred to me. So I put together a project called There and Then — a reference to Hic Et Nunc, which means "here and now." I released it from the wallet for zero tez, free to mint, but kept half the outputs for myself. NFT Biker understood the dynamics too, got access, and minted some for himself — which was brilliant. I minted my half and sent them to my own address; I still have a lot of those outputs.

There's a nice story behind the color palettes I used in that project — they're named after artists who didn't know at the time they were being used. That comes from another project: a PFP collection of 6,666 outputs I created as McFly together with an artist I really like who goes by This Is A Robot — Nico is his name, though he hasn't been active on Twitter in a long time. We finished that project, but it was right at the start of the bear market, and in the end we never released it. The files still sit on my computer. For that project we'd asked friends and fellow artists to contribute color palettes, so I had this whole series of artist-provided palettes sitting around. I recycled them into There and Then as an homage — they were all artists from the Hic Et Nunc era. So that's the only project on fx(hash) that's been released from the wallet.

More recently I made a project called Grid, using $art coins — which was probably just a silly statement I made one night when I was pissed at fx(hash) for what they did with $art coins. It's a very basic, open-form project: you mint red or green, and you keep minting, building up this random series of red and green marks like the candles in a trading graph. The token is called Grid, and it's representative of my view of the whole art-coin world.

Will: Very cool.

PlottableMess — CCDDBB (Claudio Dalla Bernardina)

CCDDBB (Claudio Dalla Bernardina): So that's the wallet story. I suggest everyone go dig into it — there's a lot of interesting stuff minted from it, and it's still a very peculiar, usable project. You can find the seed phrase, mint from it, and take part in that whole dynamic.

Will: Everyone go check it out — I'll link the Twitter, that's probably the best place for people to start. I'll link as much of your other work in the show notes too. I probably won't get everything, since you've got so many projects out there, but I'll link what I know about. I've got to jump onto a meeting, but Claudio, thank you so much — this was awesome. I really look forward to hopefully seeing some kind of release of Plotable Mess someday. I hope everyone listening enjoyed this. Thanks so much, and let's call it an episode.

CCDDBB (Claudio Dalla Bernardina): Thank you. That was really a great pleasure, and a dream come true.

Will: Glad to hear it. Thanks as always, everyone, for listening. We'll be back again sometime with another episode. Bye, everyone.

CCDDBB (Claudio Dalla Bernardina): We're waiting to be signed. Always — but we're waiting to be signed. Grail of the week. It be time. We're waiting. Always lit.

Change log

  • Initial transcript — auto-transcribed (AssemblyAI) and readability-edited.