Waiting To Be Signed · interviews on generative art, on-chain
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Interview // AUG 2023

Zach Lieberman

Title: Living With Images
Role: Generative artist
Platform: Verse
Duration: 48m
Hosts: Will & Trinity
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#040 · Living With Images
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Will: All right. Hello and welcome everyone to another episode of Waiting to Be Signed, a special interview episode. We're joined today by Zach Lieberman, who has an upcoming show, Verse Solos, that we're really excited to talk to him about. Trinity, of course, is here as well. This is the first time we've recorded in about three weeks while we've been on hiatus. Trinity, it's good to be back on the mic. How's it going, everyone?

Trinity: It's going great. Very happy to have Zach here and chatting again. I don't know if people know, but we had an unrecorded conversation last year, which was fun. Now you're on officially, so we've made it.

Zach Lieberman: Super happy to be here.

Will: Zach, you have a really long career in art. You're one of those people who came into generative art in the NFT sense that we'd consider an OG -- not that you came from the '60s, but you've been making computer art and generative art for a long time. For those who might not know you so well, can you give a brief introduction to your background in art and coding, and how you came to start releasing work on the blockchain?

Zach Lieberman: Sure. I'm an artist based in New York, and right now I divide my time in thirds: one-third teaching, one-third making artwork, one-third doing commercial work. In terms of my background, I come from fine arts -- I studied painting and printmaking. Then I had to get a job. Everybody was talking about web design, and the world was supposedly going to end in the year 2000. I completely bluffed my way into a design job. I had no design background at all, just slides of my paintings, but I discovered you could go to the bookstore and buy books about Photoshop and Illustrator. I started learning those tools and fell in love with a tool called Flash.

Trinity: We know Flash.

Zach Lieberman: You know Flash? All right.

Will: In particular.

Zach Lieberman: Flash games -- to me that was an amazing community. I'd say I came up through that early-2000s Flash era: Joshua Davis, K10K, the practitioners of generative art through Flash. I was quite excited about that, and then I fell in love with the medium of computational animation -- making motion through code.

Will: So you got into the computer side of things through web design, but you must have picked up some more hardcore coding skills at some point. Didn't you do a lot of your earlier work in C++?

Zach Lieberman: A million years ago, as a kid, I took a Logo class and learned BASIC -- some early coding. But I'd totally forgotten about that, and I really wasn't a heavy computer user when I was studying fine arts. Then the economy crashed. I was working at a startup during early Web 1.0, and I thought, okay, maybe I should go to graduate school. I applied to design programs, but of course I didn't have a design portfolio, so the programs that accepted me were design technology programs. I went to Parsons for graduate school, where the professors were using Director, so I learned Lingo, I learned Java -- all these different programming languages. One of my professors at Parsons, Golan Levin -- now a professor at Carnegie Mellon, but at the time coming from MIT Media Lab -- invited me to work with him after I graduated. That first summer he handed me this giant book on C++, and we started using it for our projects. I kind of learned languages as I went.

Trinity: Did you ever imagine you'd end up using this as your primary medium rather than more of a fine arts practice? That transition seems fantastical to me -- there's a divide between the arts and the sciences in our culture, even if it's a false one.

Zach Lieberman: I didn't know what I'd be doing for a career. At graduate school there were two types of classes: fake-work classes, where you're building things for your portfolio, and extremely weird experimental classes. I hated the fake-work classes -- I thought, I have my whole life to be working, I don't need to be in school making Coca-Cola advertisements. But the experimental classes were about exploring the intersection of design, technology, and art, and I loved every minute of it. I didn't know you could do this for a career. It was really Golan who introduced me to that world -- after graduate school I went with him to Ars Electronica, and I learned about media art from working with him. He'd already had a career at that point, so meeting somebody a little older introduced me to a world I didn't know existed. I started making projects with him and on my own, and fell into the field of media art. A lot of things were happening in Europe and Asia, so I found myself living in America but doing a lot of work overseas -- festivals, projects, workshops.

Will: What about crossing over into blockchain and NFTs? I'd guess that given your experimental background, it wasn't such a leap for you, but it's a contentious thing in the art world right now, especially the traditional art world. As an educator, do you encounter students -- or maybe not, depending on what you teach -- who have pretty negative feelings about it? What was that journey like, getting comfortable with NFTs, and did you encounter any professional friction because of it?

Zach Lieberman: That's a super interesting question. I post a lot online -- we'll probably talk about daily sketching and that work -- on Twitter and Instagram. I remember getting messages really early from folks saying, "Oh, you should do NFT stuff." I wasn't sure what the culture was; I didn't understand it at all. If you work publicly, you get a lot of random DMs that don't make sense. But I got a message from a curator I really admire, Lindsay Howard. At the time she was a curator at a place called Foundation, which was -- or still is -- an amazing venue for NFT art. She invited me to be part of Foundation right from the beginning, back when they were using DAI, not Ethereum. I didn't totally understand what it was, but I remembered a moment from maybe five or ten years earlier with the head of Ars Electronica. We were at an event in Japan, drinking in the hotel lobby, and he said something I'll never forget: that all of my work was going to disappear. That we were living before the moment we'd figure out how to archive and preserve media art, but that the work, as it stood, was dying. I knew this in my heart -- if you go to Ars Electronica, there's a basement full of old machines, iconic media art projects from the '70s, '80s, and '90s, that just don't boot up anymore. I was drinking with this guy, older than me, thinking, what is he talking about? But when I went to mint my first work on Foundation, it became this really interesting moment -- a moment of saying, I want this to be preserved. I care so much about this that I want it frozen. I remember the trepidation of hitting the mint button. And I'll never forget that conversation in Japan -- to me, minting became an exciting echo of it: this work is so important to me that I want to preserve it on a blockchain. The transparency was interesting too. I'd always been suspicious of the art world, never really understanding how it works, and here was a world that was very transparent. From Foundation I found out about Tezos and Hic Et Nunc, and those days were really fun and wild. It was Lindsay Howard and Foundation that really got me into this.

Trinity: That's such an interesting story. It sounds like working on the blockchain has actually been legitimizing for you rather than experimental -- full of intention. Do you differentiate between that older, traditional work and the NFT work? It sounds like you place more value on the NFT space, even though in some ways it's more ephemeral.

Zach Lieberman: I think it's about finding the right vehicle to publish work -- it relates to the daily sketching too. For me, the NFT work is a chance to say: this work is so important to me that I want to put it out in the world, I want it to be permanent, and I want people to be able to own it. It's a chance to reflect and say, I care about this so much that I wanted to find it a home. I do the same thing with prints -- there's no greater feeling than holding an image in your hand. I come from printmaking; you do all this work and in the end you're just holding an image in your hand. When I print something, I'm so happy -- I hold it, then I wrap it up and put it in a mailbox for somebody to live with. That moment of work finding a home is really important to me. Of course there's speculation and trading happening around it, but at the essence, it's about finding a home.

Will: You share so many images of prints on social media alongside PNGs of whatever you're working on as part of your daily sketch process. Some of those prints must just be for testing -- do you have massive archival storage for all of them, or do you cycle them through your workspace and home? What happens to all these test prints?

Zach Lieberman: I have flat files, which helps with storing them. Usually once a year I'll have a huge pile of things -- I joke I could sell them as B-grade material -- and I'll have to clear out the old stuff. We just moved studios, and I put up Homasote, a pinboard material, in the room where I print. It's already filling up with things I'm studying. I think it's important to live with images if you're making images -- the same way a writer prints out what they're writing and sees the spelling mistakes, the grammar mistakes, can cross out a line with a pen, engage with the words differently than on screen. It's the same with images: nothing reveals more than living with it, putting it on your wall, seeing it daily, flipping it upside down, holding it in your hands. I often don't understand images until I print them out.

Will: For Cone Gradient Studies, which you've been sharing a lot of over the last year on social media, and which will also be part of the Verse Solos exhibition coming up, what were you looking for as you evaluated those images that helped you tweak and tune the algorithm to arrive at the final images that'll be in the show?

Cone Gradient Studies — Zach Lieberman

Zach Lieberman: For me, Cone Gradient Studies is about seeing light move across a piece of paper, and there are qualities I really look for. One is this — I don't know the right term for it — but there are moments in the image where the colors and shading become very ambiguous. In some of the cone gradients you have solid colors meeting in the center, all the cones focused toward a point, and you wind up with a color that's like fog or liquid — hard to understand what it even is. That ambiguity is so interesting to me. I try to find images where I just don't understand them. Maybe visually they're appealing, but my brain goes, "What is going on? Let me try to read it, let me try to process it." I like that pathway: starting with your eye, going to your brain, and then back to your eye — seeing something, having to think more intensely about what it is or means, and having that feed back into how you see it. I look for images that activate that pathway.

Some of the cone gradients are pretty wild — I like to take the same algorithm and turn the volume up to eleven, just to see how I can break it: how much color, noise, or texture can I add before it falls apart? With those wilder ones, I'm looking for what remains. If you keep pushing and pushing, is there some essential truth to the image that still pops through? Those are some of the qualities I look for when evaluating the work.

Trinity: So when we're looking at Cone Gradient — both what you've posted on Twitter and what's coming up in Verse — those outputs are all a range of you twisting dials. It's not a single algorithm the way we might think of long form, but you manipulating it to get outputs that just scream at you in the most wonderful way.

Zach Lieberman: It's similar to long form in that you have different traits. Some push the colors in different directions — some cone gradients start black and white and move into color, some have almost a diffraction or interference pattern. You could think of those as traits in a long-form work — different flavors, even though the underlying algorithm is very simple. It's how these elements interact that leads to interesting results. It's all code-based, all algorithmically manipulated, but I'm sitting there refreshing and refreshing until I see an image that tingles my brain in some way, and then I export it. I might look at twenty images, or a hundred, and find one I like. You can think of those as a contact sheet, and then I go through and ask which of those are even better. There's a curating process to it.

Will: Let's talk about your Verse Solos exhibition. Let me see if I can get the pronunciation right on the first try: Lichtrequisite: Studies in Color, Light, and Geometry. How close was I?

Lichtrequisite — Zach Lieberman

Zach Lieberman: I think that's correct. I'm no expert, but yeah.

Will: I know the title is a reference to another artist's work, from reading the description on Verse. Can you tell us the story of this exhibition and how it came to be on Verse?

Zach Lieberman: Last year I did some work with Verse — I was part of a group exhibition, I think it was called Chromatics. I'd done some light studies with them, and it was great; I really enjoyed their curatorial sensibility and the way they presented the work. I'd been following Verse for a long time — in NFT time scale, anyway — and have been excited by the energy they put into the space.

I was approached by Mimi, a curator there, who asked me to do a show about light in the summertime. I'd been doing light studies I'm really proud of, similar to what I did for Verse last year, but I told Mimi I wasn't tired of them, I just wanted to do something different. I had this cone gradient approach I was excited to explore. The original intention of the exhibition — which is where the name Lichtrequisite comes from — was to create work in response to another artist. Mimi suggested Laszlo Moholy-Nagy, which is where the title comes from. I threw out other artists I was interested in — Gottfried Jäger, who does generative photography, and another artist whose name escapes me who does beautiful light paintings. As we got into it, it seemed easier to frame the show as a solo exhibition specifically around color, light, and geometry — forms I think about every day. So the original intention was to respond to another artist, but it transitioned into being about these two bodies of work, which I'm happy about.

Lichtrequisite — Zach Lieberman

Will: I think the other artist is James Turrell, right?

Zach Lieberman: James Turrell is a big inspiration, but the artist I'm thinking of — oh God, it's going to kill me. Give me one second.

Will: I remember reading about them being an influence on you in an interview somewhere, and I'd just seen the installation up at MASS MoCA last week — I saw the connection immediately.

Zach Lieberman: Yeah, the MASS MoCA stuff is amazing.

Trinity: We've talked quite a bit about Cone Gradient Studies. Let's talk about Colorblind Study — I see there are studies numbered one through five. Will those be one-of-ones or editioned pieces?

Colorblind Study — Zach Lieberman

Zach Lieberman: One-of-ones. The Colorblind Studies use essentially the same code as the Cone Gradient Studies, but there was a process I fell in love with — horizontally or vertically altering the image in some periodic way. Sometimes you do something and it opens up a whole new world. Here it's a simple idea: cut the image into strips and make something happen across a strip — maybe the colors are brighter at the bottom and darker at the top. Images that felt flat or gradient-y suddenly become very dimensional.

It's a bit like Venetian blinds — when light moves behind them you get these beautiful patterns. As a kid I had blinds like that in my bedroom, and when cars turned the corner you'd see this interesting glow, this movement. This work really requires movement to appreciate. A lot of my interest here is in memory — you're staring at an image, the colors are moving, and they change so much that what you're really experiencing is the difference between what you see now and what you just saw. There's a charged energy in how the images change, in how your brain latches onto something — the shading suggests a meaning, and as the colors shift, that meaning seems to push in a different direction. The work is about exploring that energy: slicing an image horizontally or vertically and watching the distortions emerge.

Trinity: And chasing that emotion, whatever was invoked in you at a particular moment — which is always in flux, always changing. I can definitely see that coming through in the piece.

Zach Lieberman: I love that idea of change — seeing something you can never quite understand, always having to be in the moment with it because it's always shifting. With some of these I've started using the language of sun and sunsets, sunrise, because you can never really freeze a sunset. Some pieces really lean into those colors; others are wilder colors I'm excited about.

Will: Very cool. And those are going to run as auctions, correct?

Zach Lieberman: Yeah, auctions.

Cone Gradient Studies — Zach Lieberman

Will: Twenty-five one-of-one pieces — that'll be exciting to watch.

Trinity: Simultaneous auctions.

Will: To jump back to Cone Gradient Studies — those are going to be distributed through mint passes, right? Fifty curated pieces.

Cone Gradient Studies — Zach Lieberman

Zach Lieberman: Yeah.

Will: And people will be able to redeem up to a limit of five per image in the series.

Zach Lieberman: Right, up to five, with the opportunity to redeem a print as well. Printing was really important to me — when Mimi and I were discussing the show early on, I wanted to print work for the exhibition, and I wanted printing to be part of the collecting experience. So it'll be 50 works with a maximum of five collectors per work, and you'll be able to see who's collected what. That's the mechanic we felt would work best.

Will: There's the potential for some of them to end up as one-of-ones, since there will only be 150 mint passes against a possible total of 250 across the series, right?

Zach Lieberman: Exactly — 150 passes for a maximum possibility of 250 editions. I think some works will end up with just one collector, which is exciting. That's the interesting part of a larger edition count: some pieces turn out really unique, really different, and speak to a specific individual or capture someone's imagination in a particular way. Some will be crowd-pleasers, but it's the oddballs that are truly exciting to me. I'm looking forward to watching that play out.

Will: The exhibition's going up on Verse probably around the time this episode comes out, maybe a little after. Before we move on — can you talk more about the process? Were these pieces fully baked before you brought them together into the show with Verse, or was there back-and-forth? Did they play a role in helping curate the pieces? Were there any pivots or interesting tidbits from that process worth mentioning before we move on?

Cone Gradient Studies — Zach Lieberman

Zach Lieberman: Yeah. I don't know if there are any cool pivots here, but these are algorithms I've been working on and off with for years. The cone gradients, for instance—I probably made the first cone gradient work in 2017. It's become a kind of classic for me; I keep coming back to it. I often think creativity is about navigating between known and unknown spaces. The cone gradients are a known space I feel really familiar and excited about, but I love returning to it with new eyes and new ideas.

In terms of curation, I exported thousands of images and picked about 150. The first curatorial job was figuring out what to print for the show. I made a deck, categorized the images, and explained the different styles and approaches. The folks from Verse made suggestions, we went back and forth, and picked four candidates to print for the exhibition. We're still settling on the 50 for the drop.

There were no pivots, really—just a lot of the usual challenge: when you make a lot of work you're excited about, it's hard to edit. You have to figure out how to tell a story, how to create a cohesive body of work, how much of this approach versus that approach. A lot of that decision-making is itself the art.

Trinity: That seems interesting not just because you have so much work you love, but because you have a theme—like the cone gradients—that you've returned to for so long. How does it let you tell stories now and into the future? How can you create completely different bodies of work using that same underlying theme? It's interesting from both a viewer's and a curatorial perspective. Do you see yourself using a similar study down the road, but taking it in a completely different direction, evoking totally different feelings?

Zach Lieberman: For sure. To me, those approaches are like your style as an artist. I think of style almost like desire paths—you know, where two paths of a sidewalk meet at a corner, but people take a shortcut through the grass instead of walking the long way around. Making art means you're always coming up with these shortcuts. The cone gradients are a form of shortcut: a way of making an image where you pick some points, some angles, some colors, and see what emerges. It's something I come back to time and again because it's such a beautiful way to make an image, and I always learn something new. There's joy in returning to older approaches with new eyes and new knowledge, seeing what they bring. So yes, I can certainly imagine doing other things with this in the future.

Trinity: That speaks to something we talked about last year—the conversation around curated versus long-form work that often comes up in relation to your work. There's this sense that Zach doesn't do long-form, with the exception of the collaboration on fx(hash) last year, and maybe a few other specific pieces.

Cone Gradient Studies — Zach Lieberman

Zach Lieberman: Well, I also did the Bright Moments one.

Trinity: Right. But it seems like you have a strong preference for curated pieces, and I think this conversation is shedding light on why and how.

Will: To add to that—listening to you talk about the cone gradients, you generated thousands and narrowed them down, and now there's this discussion about which 50, because clearly there are more than 50 that could go into it. The algorithm is capable of producing so many novel images people might want. Was there ever any consideration of doing this as long-form? And more broadly, how do you view the two different release structures for generative work?

Zach Lieberman: I think long-form is really interesting because you're ceding some element of control. So much of the art, to me, is about curation. There's so much stuff on my hard drive—so many images and videos I make while sketching—and then I pick what I share. It feels like being a wildlife photographer: if I see an interesting moment, I try to capture it, and if I think it explains the idea, I share it. I learn through sharing, through making things and figuring out what I want to post, put into the world, or print. That curatorial element is an important aspect of making the art.

I think long-form is another totally valid way to work, though it's one I personally find intimidating, because you're ceding that control. Long-form is more about studying the algorithm—a lot of the excitement comes from looking through many outputs and talking about the different traits and ideas expressed. Because the work isn't curated, you get to talk about all the eccentricities and interesting moments that emerge within a system. And I think there's a lot of space in between. Even the Vera Molnar and Martin Grasser drop recently was described as long-form but was actually curated. There are probably spaces in between a fully curated collection and a long-form collection that are really interesting to explore.

Will: I wasn't actually sure what they were trying to accomplish labeling that collection as long-form and curated. It sounds like they did something similar to what you're doing—creating a lot of outputs and then picking—which doesn't really fit what we'd think of as long-form from fx(hash) or similar sites.

Cone Gradient Studies — Zach Lieberman

Zach Lieberman: It doesn't, but I don't know how many outputs there were—maybe 400 or 500—there's still something amazing about seeing the range of the system. It was nice to know Vera was involved in selecting the work.

Will: I'm just nitpicking the verbiage. I feel like they wanted to say "long-form" but also had to own the fact that it was actually curated. It felt like a bit of doublespeak from the platform. But that's a conversation for Friday's episode, Trinity.

Zach Lieberman: I think there are all different ways to work. Long-form is exciting, curated is exciting—there are a lot of valid ways to make work.

Will: So there was never any consideration of releasing the cone gradients as long-form? Because it sounds like you could have done 250 or 300 outputs. I'm curious—when you're working on a project, what makes you consider doing long-form, if anything, and what pulls you back from it?

Zach Lieberman: Long-form is mentally taxing enough that it feels like something you can only do once a year. I can't sleep, I'm thinking too much—it puts a lot of pressure on you as an artist. There are moments where it makes sense, certain approaches where you feel like this is the way to do it. But I see a lot of people use long-form in a playful, lightweight way, experimenting with collections, and I think that's great. I personally feel like I can only do it about once a year. This particular work has always been so curatorial to me—I love printing it, thinking about it, noodling over every image, being in the weeds. This approach to presenting it works really well for that.

Will: Moving a bit off the Solos exhibition—I want to dig into something you mentioned, that a third of your work is corporate work, presumably work-for-hire with a brief for some space. I want to connect that to NFTs: we've been in this bear market for about a year now, and since you don't release work weekly or even monthly, it probably hasn't felt hugely different for you—or maybe it has. Has the bear market leeched into the corporate side too, or is this uniquely an NFT phenomenon?

Cone Gradient Studies — Zach Lieberman

Zach Lieberman: I haven't felt a bear market in corporate work. I've been working professionally for 20 years, and the work naturally changes—there'll be periods where I'm doing events and installations, touring convention centers, and other periods where I'm doing motion graphics, package design, or generative design. It shifts based on what people are excited about.

Recently I've been doing a lot of work based on my daily sketching practice. For example, I'm currently working on animations for Hermès' social media, taking elements of their brand and identity and using my artistic voice to express something for a client. I've done similar work for Google, Apple, and other companies. I haven't seen a bear market for commercial work—I've heard a lot of grumbling about an NFT bear market, but I haven't experienced it firsthand, maybe because I don't drop work that often.

I used to drop a lot of work on Hic Et Nunc and then OBJKT on Tezos—maybe once a week or once every two weeks. I liked that rhythm, and it worked well for the time. But now I do small projects throughout the year, like this project with Verse. I did something with Nifty Gateway, and I do a lot of one-on-one commissions for collectors. So I haven't had too much interaction with the marketplace lately to know what that feels like.

Will: You're lucky, then. We talk to a lot of artists on the show and off, and many came into generative art through fx(hash) as a hobby and started making close to a salary's worth of money—which has since evaporated. You start making plans around "I made this much in the last six months," and then it all dries up because everyone's pickier, and tastes have grown and changed. It's been a very challenging time for artists releasing every other week or so.

Zach Lieberman: I think that's one reason I like having balance. I'm a professor, so I have a steady paycheck from that. I do commercial work. I love doing artwork, and I love selling prints. I generally feel it's good to have that balance — to me, they're almost like three legs of a stool that lead to a kind of balanced career. If commercial work is drying up a little, I can teach some more or do some more educational work. If I feel like I'm teaching too much, I can put more love into the art practice. It's always been about finding the right balance in terms of time. If there's one piece of advice I'd give, it's to find a good balance that leads to a holistic career.

Will: That's great advice, coming from someone who's been doing this for quite a while by NFT standards, at least. Zach, I know you need to head out soon, so let's start wrapping up with some rapid-fire questions, if that's okay — lighter ones. One we always like to ask: what do you listen to while you code, and do you have any music recommendations for us?

Cone Gradient Studies — Zach Lieberman

Zach Lieberman: Let me pull out my phone. I love NTS Radio — they're always running live streams, and I find a lot of cool music that way. There are some DJs I really love there, like Merlot. I also love mixes; I don't know why, but I like being on some sort of journey, so I go to SoundCloud a lot to find DJs and mixes. Overmono has a really great mix I've been listening to recently. In terms of musicians, I really like Beatrice Dillon. I've also gotten into exploring '90s techno — LFO and some of that music from England — I've been super into that recently. I don't know if any of this is helpful.

Will: All recommendations are helpful. Everyone brings their own thing — some people listen to a lot of punk and hardcore, some listen to improvisational jazz — but yeah, we definitely hear a lot of electronic in there too. My '90s techno is basically just Orbital, one of my favorites from back then.

Zach Lieberman: I just like DJs. There's a series called Beats in Space that's been going for like 20 years — a DJ there brings in other DJs who each do an hour set. I really like that.

Will: The Lot Radio in Brooklyn has great DJs too — Fortet did one recently, and they do a lot of great stuff. Trinity, if you're back, do you want to hit us with another rapid fire? She said in the chat that she was back, but I guess not — I'll do another one myself.

Who would you like to hear us interview in the future? This could be a great chance for you to give us some more traditional art-world recommendations, not just fx(hash) artists, so go nuts on this one.

Zach Lieberman: I don't know if she'd be up for it, but I would love to hear Vera Molnar — she's 99 years old. Ken Knowlton just passed away, Charles Csuri just passed away. I would love to hear more from that generation. I'm excited about how the NFT space has offered a lot of these artists a chance to share their work in different ways, but I want to hear their stories. Lillian Schwartz is a good example — I love her work so much, I teach about her work, and if there were more ways to hear stories about Bell Labs and her body of work, that would be amazing. Those are the artists I'd be really excited about.

Cone Gradient Studies — Zach Lieberman

Will: I'm sure you know Ira Greenberg — he offered to connect us with Roman Verostko potentially, who's also still living and also very old. Honestly, it's a little intimidating. Unlike you, we don't have that deep art background — we're doing our best to read up and catch up.

Zach Lieberman: Sometimes it's literally just showing up and turning on a camera or a mic. I did a project with Ken Knowlton — I went to his house, took out my cell phone, and said, "Tell me what we're seeing." He just talked for five or ten minutes, and I put that video on Vimeo. It's what I share with students when I teach about his work. Sometimes it doesn't even require research — these people have stories to tell, so we should be giving them a microphone.

Will: That's inspirational. We'll get back to Ira on that, because time is unfortunately a limiting factor with a lot of these folks. All right, one more and then we'll let you go so you can make your meeting on time. Any questions for us? Well, for me, since it's just me right now.

Zach Lieberman: I'd love to hear — and I think we may have touched on this last time — how did you get into this? What's the origin story for this podcast, and how did you get into this space?

Will: I think we discussed it a little as an icebreaker, but yeah — we both got in as a COVID hobby, me before Trinity. Honestly, my wife said, "You're spending so much time gaming during COVID, why don't you try to do something that will make money?" I do strategy gaming, so I started going down the crypto rabbit hole. I tried to be smart about it — I didn't just go nuts. I waited until I found resources I liked, which is hard in crypto, to find solid resources to learn from and not just hype, especially at the time we got in.

Through Bitcoin and Ethereum, I found Hic Et Nunc. Tezos wasn't expensive, so every time I had a little remainder money on an exchange, I'd convert it to Tezos and play around on Hic Et Nunc. Then HEN closed and fx(hash) opened, and that's when we really discovered the community here. I brought Trinity in quickly because it was so exciting — I told her, "You have to see this, it's unlike anything else." She got in hard and fast, just like I did. We were staying up all night on Discord waiting for drops, because back then things weren't so telegraphed.

Cone Gradient Studies — Zach Lieberman

After about a month of that — end of December, only six or seven weeks after fx(hash) had even opened as a platform — we thought, we should make a podcast about this and start chronicling what's going on every week. It felt so special, the community, the electricity every time a cool piece dropped. There was so much good work coming out those first few months especially — this pent-up body of work that had no place to be published, and suddenly it did. That was really exciting. Now the show's expanded, since a lot of those artists have migrated to other platforms and blockchains, so we're trying to cover more of the space. But that's the short version of the story.

Zach Lieberman: Nice — it started with gaming.

Will: It started with gaming, because when you think of this space — and a lot of people do — as also an investment, there's a gaming and strategy aspect to it. So there are very few people here with a strong art background whose intention is, "I want to hold this for 30 or 40 years." You hear big collectors say they're holding long-term, but what does that even mean — one year, five years, forty? You can only take them at their word, but when you're putting in that kind of money, you're probably expecting a return at some point.

So I don't know what your view is — we've talked to people like Jamie from Verse about this — how do you grow this space to bring in more people who didn't originate in Web3 or crypto, as collectors? Because I think that's what provides longevity.

Zach Lieberman: That's an interesting question. I don't really think about timeframes — the idea of ownership itself is exciting, whether somebody owns a work for six months, six years, or sixty years. I don't know if I have a great answer. In general, I love just sharing work, and I find I grow community through sharing and creating spaces around the things I do.

Will: I think your instinct to create physicals has been really wise — you were doing that before it became a big trend over the last six months. From the few pieces I have printed or plotted, it really creates a stronger feeling — like, now that I have this, I'm probably never going to sell it. I got this great plot from Zancan, signed, and now how could I possibly sell that NFT? They feel connected, even though technically they aren't — there's this aura of connectedness.

Cone Gradient Studies — Zach Lieberman

Zach Lieberman: Exactly. It's about living with the work — that's the number one thing, finding ways to live with the work through printing, having it on my walls, and so on. I actually just found the name of the artist I was blanking on earlier, so I'd love to shout them out.

Will: Please do.

Zach Lieberman: Abraham Palatnik — an artist from Brazil who passed away recently. He's a kinetic chromatic artist; his works are called aparelhos cromáticos — paintings made with light bulbs of different colors positioned beneath a surface, which he turns on and off to make a painting with light. The result isn't dissimilar to cone gradients, because the math behind cone gradients is very similar to a lighting equation. I love this work. It happened the way it often does — I post a sketch, and somebody says, "You have to check out Abraham Palatnik's work," and I fell absolutely in love. It's so valuable when someone points you to another artist or another piece of work — that was a giant unlock for me. If there's one artist who really inspired this exhibition, it's Abraham Palatnik.

Will: Great shout-out — I'm sure everyone will go look up some of those images on Google after listening to this. All right, let's end it here since I know you need to go. Thank you so much, Zach, I hope you had a good time on the show.

Zach Lieberman: Thank you, it was really great. I really appreciate everything you do for the space.

Will: Oh, that's always nice to hear. Thanks. Well, that's it for this one, everyone. That was Zach Lieberman. Check out his upcoming Verse Solos exhibition, Lichtrequisite: Studies in Color, Light, and Geometry, starting on August 8th. It's really great to have Zach on. Thank you so much. Hope you all enjoyed. That's it for this one, everyone. We'll talk to you all soon.

Lichtrequisite — Zach Lieberman

Zach Lieberman: Later.

Trinity: Bye.

Change log

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