I am all alone but I have an internet connection
A series of short dialogues
By Kate Vozella in collaboration with OpenAI
Kate iterates open AI with carefully selected prompts/ads from the missed connections page on craigslist. This hyphenated community + machine project constructs abstract but hyper naturalistic dialogue, which echoes a call and response style of improvisation which is often used in theatrical practices to deepen understanding of story, character objective and relationship. This call and response is also present in nature; when birds sonically seek one another out despite great distance that exists between them.
The results bear a striking resemblance to the nuances of awkward human interaction, by also encapsulating the tonal vulnerability and longing that is so evident in these ads. In some ways - by personifying the machine, this exercise magnifies the missed and lost connections we grieve in our everyday lives, illustrating the subtleties of transient but profound connection with a stranger.
To read this dialogue series, please reach out to the artist directly.
Note: This series is to be performed by actors in a space for an audience.
A series of short dialogues
By Kate Vozella in collaboration with OpenAI
Kate iterates open AI with carefully selected prompts/ads from the missed connections page on craigslist. This hyphenated community + machine project constructs abstract but hyper naturalistic dialogue, which echoes a call and response style of improvisation which is often used in theatrical practices to deepen understanding of story, character objective and relationship. This call and response is also present in nature; when birds sonically seek one another out despite great distance that exists between them.
The results bear a striking resemblance to the nuances of awkward human interaction, by also encapsulating the tonal vulnerability and longing that is so evident in these ads. In some ways - by personifying the machine, this exercise magnifies the missed and lost connections we grieve in our everyday lives, illustrating the subtleties of transient but profound connection with a stranger.
To read this dialogue series, please reach out to the artist directly.
Note: This series is to be performed by actors in a space for an audience.
Excerpt from Dialogue 1
Old(er) People at Starbucks
Dear Man at Starbucks,
We used to see each other getting coffee every morning. You were in your 60s, always dressed in a suit. You told me you like this color dress on me. Please mention the color.
Dear Woman at Starbucks,
Is it dark blue?
Dear Man at Starbucks,
The dress is light blue.
Dear Woman at Starbucks,
Oh.
Dear Man at Starbucks,
I hope you find someone else to love.
Dear Woman at Starbucks,
Wait - does the dress have ruffles?
Silence.
Dear Woman at Starbucks,
Okay, I may not know the color of the dress, but I’m sure when you walk it leaves sparkles behind it.
Dear Man at Starbucks,
It doesn’t.
Dear Woman at Starbucks,
Oh. I’ll be surprised if I hear from you now.
Dear Man at Starbucks,
Do you not remember me at all?
Dear Woman at Starbucks,
I’m getting older, what can I say?
Dear Man at Starbucks,
I’m the same age as you.
Dear Woman at Starbucks,
I am 54 (I just looked older) and if I’m honest, I am married with no children.
Dear Man at Starbucks,
Well, if I am honest… I think people talk about me because I am a woman of a certain age, but it’s not my fault I thought you were older… and it’s not my cross to bear. I really would rather not get talked about at all.
No reply.
1.5 years later.
Dear Woman at Starbucks,
This letter has been a long time coming. I read your last letter a year and a half ago, but I didn't have the courage to respond. I have gotten a divorce. It was the hardest thing I have ever done. The worst thing in the world. I took everything. Took it all. And then threw it all away. If I can describe it in one word, that’s it. Gone. We said our vows to God. I was reborn that day. God healed me in many ways. That is the best way I can put it. Over the past two years, things with him have now changed. I am working on being okay with it. How are you?
No response.
Old(er) People at Starbucks
Dear Man at Starbucks,
We used to see each other getting coffee every morning. You were in your 60s, always dressed in a suit. You told me you like this color dress on me. Please mention the color.
Dear Woman at Starbucks,
Is it dark blue?
Dear Man at Starbucks,
The dress is light blue.
Dear Woman at Starbucks,
Oh.
Dear Man at Starbucks,
I hope you find someone else to love.
Dear Woman at Starbucks,
Wait - does the dress have ruffles?
Silence.
Dear Woman at Starbucks,
Okay, I may not know the color of the dress, but I’m sure when you walk it leaves sparkles behind it.
Dear Man at Starbucks,
It doesn’t.
Dear Woman at Starbucks,
Oh. I’ll be surprised if I hear from you now.
Dear Man at Starbucks,
Do you not remember me at all?
Dear Woman at Starbucks,
I’m getting older, what can I say?
Dear Man at Starbucks,
I’m the same age as you.
Dear Woman at Starbucks,
I am 54 (I just looked older) and if I’m honest, I am married with no children.
Dear Man at Starbucks,
Well, if I am honest… I think people talk about me because I am a woman of a certain age, but it’s not my fault I thought you were older… and it’s not my cross to bear. I really would rather not get talked about at all.
No reply.
1.5 years later.
Dear Woman at Starbucks,
This letter has been a long time coming. I read your last letter a year and a half ago, but I didn't have the courage to respond. I have gotten a divorce. It was the hardest thing I have ever done. The worst thing in the world. I took everything. Took it all. And then threw it all away. If I can describe it in one word, that’s it. Gone. We said our vows to God. I was reborn that day. God healed me in many ways. That is the best way I can put it. Over the past two years, things with him have now changed. I am working on being okay with it. How are you?
No response.