Systems, Not Objects
Our reality is changing. Increasingly, it is shaped not by isolated objects, but by algorithms embedded in systems that govern everyday life. These systems influence how we perceive the world, how decisions are made, and how power is distributed.
Algorithms curate information, define visibility, and shape opinion. Credit scoring systems determine access to resources. Recommendation engines influence desire, movement, and attention. These processes are no longer peripheral. They form an interconnected structure that actively produces reality.
Yet the art world has been slow to reflect this shift. Coded and generative works are still predominantly interpreted as images, while the systems that produce them remain secondary or invisible. Code is treated as a technical tool rather than as a material with its own expressive and conceptual weight.
From Image to System
Coded artworks are still predominantly approached as images. Their visual output is treated as the artwork itself, while the underlying system is rarely considered part of its material reality.
This distinction is no longer sufficient. Code should be understood as matter from which art is constructed, not merely as a means of rendering a final visual output. Algorithms are capable of evolution, interaction, and sustained response to data over time. They define behavior, not just form.
In this context, code quality, technological choices, and system architecture are not technical details but integral components of the artwork itself. These aspects shape how a work behaves, how it evolves, and how it exists in relation to time and its environment.
What may appear as technical terminology or abstraction is, in fact, central to understanding contemporary artistic practice. In the following text, I aim to demonstrate why these elements matter, and how treating code as material fundamentally alters the way art can be created, experienced, and collected.
Randomness, Context, and Behavior
One of the foundational characteristics of generative art is the use of randomness. Its origins can be traced to the avant-garde movements of the 1920s and 1930s — from Dadaism to Surrealism — which embraced unpredictability, automatism, and non-deterministic processes as a response to rigid artistic control.
In this approach, the artist does not aim to produce a specific form. Instead, they construct a system of constraints within which an algorithm operates. The artistic act lies in defining a space of possibilities rather than a single final outcome. What emerges is not a predetermined image, but a range of potential manifestations governed by rules.
Randomness in generative systems can be derived from almost any source: numerical values, timestamps, cryptographic hashes, environmental data, or signals extracted from social and socio-economic systems. The choice of input is not arbitrary — it determines how the work relates to the world beyond itself. In this sense, randomness becomes a bridge between the artwork and its context.
However, randomness alone does not define the full potential of generative systems. A well-designed system can evolve, respond, and adapt. It may change alongside the artist, technological conditions, or the underlying infrastructure on which it operates. Such systems can be constructed to require human interaction, or to function autonomously, following their internal logic indefinitely once initiated.
This introduces a fundamental shift in the relationship between artist, artwork, and collector. When code governs behavior, it establishes rules that are not interpretative but executable. The artwork does not merely represent an idea; it enforces it. In this model, code functions as law, shaping outcomes in a way that cannot be bypassed or negotiated.
To collect such a work is not to acquire a static image or a fixed object. It is to become the custodian of an instance of algorithmic matter — an evolving system initialized by a unique seed, capable of change over time while remaining bound to its original structure.
Understanding code as material is only a starting point. Its consequences extend far beyond form, reaching into questions of authorship, control, and permanence.