Introducing Matt Kane’s The Door: The first SuperRare Series

Introducing Matt Kane’s The Door: The first SuperRare Series

Above: “data privacy” by stockcatalog licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0

Introducing Matt Kane’s The Door: The first SuperRare Series

3 years ago

I remember the first thing CEO John Crain told me about SuperRare:

“It’s basically just a smart contract on the Ethereum blockchain. That’s it. That’s the business.”

In effect, it was true. Since its inception in 2018, over 30,000 artworks have been minted on SuperRare through the rules of a single, 692 line contract written by our team (since twice revised).

SuperRare Primary Network, 1/1 data map visualization by @barabasilab

This week, all of that changes as we release Series.

“With Series, artists can deploy their own custom smart contracts on SuperRare,” said Jonathan Perkins, SuperRare Labs CPO. “We’re giving artists the ability to release unique collections of work that are uniquely named and numbered.”

Artists will now have the option to mint artworks under the shared SuperRare minting contract or under their own brand.

“This gives artists more independence, more individuality, more sovereignty,” Perkins said, “different ways to package their work and more surface area to experiment with.”

Fittingly, the first SuperRare Series – deployed last night and already featuring five artworks under auction – is ‘The Door’, a project from the mind of renowned artist Matt Kane that reflects on his journey as an artist. It is a journey bound to SuperRare, to the door we walked through in deploying our first contract in 2018 and the door Kane opened in joining as an artist.

Walking through The Door

Technically Matt Kane began working on The Door series in June of 2021, but the project has its origins in a door he walked through in 2013.

The Doors, an introduction video by @mattkane

“I had just left Seattle after living there for seven years,” he said. “A long term relationship I’d been in had broken up, which led me to also end things with my web development clients.”

The plan had been to travel slowly through Canada back to Chicago, visiting a close friend on the way before having a “final go”, as he called it, at being a full time artist. A week before his arrival, his friend took her own life.

“I kept wishing I’d left a week sooner or made one more phone call,” he said. “The regret, self-loathing, and grief that loss survivors feel is very real and heavy.”

Unable to paint amid the darkness, Kane fell back on developing the unique software that has come to define his practice. Through custom algorithms and traditional painting techniques, Kane manifests ideas into artworks that feel rooted deeper in human emotion than in 1s and 0s. His paintings are a melding of order, chaos, geometric shapes and delicate color palettes, like a sort of boolean poetry made by a transhuman impressionist.

And yet, in 2014, there wasn’t really a market for it.

“My work is peculiar in that it didn’t really fit into the generative art community. And it didn’t really fit into the painting community,” Kane said. “My work is a bit of a hybrid and so finding an audience, especially within the old social media paradigm, was challenging.”

By the middle of 2017, when the original SuperRare contract was still just an unfinished file on a laptop, he all but ran out of money.

“Then along came CryptoArt,” he said. “I felt embraced by the community, it was like a warm hug. And I increasingly wanted to squeeze back.”

On May 6th of 2019, he minted his first artwork on SuperRare and made the decision to speak at a technology conference.

M87 Black Hole Deconstruction #6@mattkane‘s first NFT on SuperRare

“Between 2014 and 2019, I had barely talked to anybody,” he said. “I was kinda shut down in my life. I had to consciously make the decision: I’m going to bring myself back around people. I’m going to walk through that door.”

What followed was the CryptoArt explosion. Suddenly Kane found himself helping build a market and lead a community. He was speaking on Twitter, at conferences, and on podcasts. He was entertaining collectors, signing contracts with famed auction houses and fielding requests from young artists. Sure, he was finally making money, but as the gears moved faster and faster, the chatter kicked up like dust into a din so dense he feared he could no longer see or hear his creative spirit.

“It became too much,” he said. “The NFT market had become all encompassing. The volume of emails and DMs had made providing some level of human response to each request impossible. The CryptoArt community I had joined was about reaching out – and it had gotten to where I saw more grabby hands than reaching hands.”

Kane was growing close to a breaking point. Something needed to change. That’s when he found The Door.

“The series started with me looking at ‘Exit’ signs, because I felt this great need to exit different facets of my life,” he said.

“My focus had been on the crypto art market, not on programming,” he said. “And if I’m talking with collectors and artists, and having to pay attention to what is going on on Twitter, I’m not focused on my art.”

Such began the journey. Kane started by looking first at Yukio Ota’s famous running man Exit sign and playing with the symbol.

Yukio Ota’s ISO Standard exit sign

“I consciously wanted to work with some sort of structure that was more formal, that was more minimal, to constrain me,” he said.

Top left to right: Door VII, Door XVII, Door LIV and Door XIII

These constraints allowed Kane to focus on experimenting with new color palettes coupled to complex, deep geometric patterns, wrapping their way up and around the chosen templates.

Soon Kane realized he was more interested with the door itself than of exiting it. Perhaps this project wasn’t just about escaping the world in which he’d found himself, but also about reflecting on the paths he’d taken to get to this point.

“After a while the door stopped being about an exit and it became about an entrance,” he said. “It became about the choices I’ve made to get to my present circumstance: I had to cross through all of these doors.”

The artworks themselves, though all constrained by symbols, vary widely in the emotions they convey, in the experiences they represent.

Top left to right: Door XXXVIII, Door XXXIX, Door XLIII and Door LV

Kane traced the journey he’d taken as an artist from Seattle to Chicago and into the Metaverse. Soon, his focus began shifting again, toward the future, to the doors ahead.

“The process of this work is a door in of itself,” he said. It has led him to a new project, birthed from The Door, a project he hopes might be “the masterpiece”.

And therein lies the opportunity provided by Series as a new medium: Its ability to capture all the beauty in an artist’s journey as a whole, like listening to a vinyl record or cassette tape used to be. It’s not just the radio hits but also the deep cuts where the artist experiments, allows themselves to be vulnerable and fills the project with soul.

Honest, raw, beautiful, alive: These are words I’d use to describe The Door, and the paths down which Series will take us.

15

Luke Whyte

Luke Whyte is SuperRare's Editorial Director.

Art

Tech

Curators' Choice

“The Royal Family of Firearms”: See this mind-opening portrait of the Beretta family

“The Royal Family of Firearms”: See this mind-opening portrait of the Beretta family

Digital Divide

“The Royal Family of Firearms”: See this mind-opening portrait of the Beretta family

3 years ago

Imagine that as part of the 1950s MK-ULTRA program, the CIA administered firearms and LSD-laced Kool Aid to a group of cartoon characters and then forced them to perform a transhumanistic interpretative rendition of Disney’s Fantasia. Now imagine said performance was minted on SuperRare, and you’re about as close as I can get to describing Mike La Burt’s latest piece, “Digital Divide – The Beretta Family Portrait 2021”.

At just over two minutes in length and commissioned by the Beretta family themself, the piece begins with the opening credits to a fictional TV show, “The Berettas: The Royal Family of Firearms” displayed on a mid-century wood-framed TV. Suddenly the viewer is sucked into the show’s intro sequence: A supersaturated dimension where bullets explode through rainbows and hearts, golden horses and golden handguns dance afront neon pink lights, and gunfire echoes through a casino floor-like din.

The Beretta family are then introduced – matriarch Umberta, her husband Franco and son Carlos. They strike poses. Their bodies deconstruct. The universe deconstructs. The dimension shifts. Time and space skip. And the viewer tumbles through a recursive, warped and weaponized wonderland.

Digital Divide – The Beretta Family Portrait 2021

“I got excited by this sort of psychedelic Disney vibe,” La Burt said, “and deconstructing it into interdimensional, weird, post-satanic, pop bubble gum fun.”

This piece is about the aesthetic. It is a transformative journey for the senses, and an unexpectedly fitting profile of the most famous family in firearms.

The privately held Italian Beretta company is the oldest active manufacturer of firearm components in the world. Originating as a one-man operation forging gun barrels in the 16th century Italian Alps, Beretta has grown into a global brand – supplier of armies from Napoleon’s to NATO’s – whose parent Beretta Group reported over $750 million of revenue in 2016.

Umberta Gnutti Beretta, wife of 15th-generation Beretta scion and CEO Franco Beretta, is, and always has been, an avid contemporary art collector. Owner of works by David LaChapelle, Tracey Emin and Vanessa Beecroft among others, Beretta approached La Burt with the idea of producing a family portrait, marking her first step into the NFT universe.

“When I was first approached about the commission [Umberta Beretta] didn’t say anything about who she was. Then when we set up our first talk she was there with Carlo, her son, and they dropped the bomb that they were the Berettas,” La Burt said. “And my jaw just dropped like a cartoon.”

La Burt is an American artist and director just home after 12 years in Japan. There is a mysterious, near-unnerving allure to his work. It has this darkwave, surreal aesthetic that toys with ideas of transcendence. “Digital Divide – The Beretta Family Portrait 2021” is no exception.

“I’ve always been into transhumanism and transformation,” La Burt said. “I use a lot of [Adobe] After Effects, but live-action is my baseline. I’ll take a live-action piece and whenever I can turn that normal human into something transhuman – something of this world but not of this world that might exist in a parallel universe – that’s what I get excited about.”

The development process began with footage shot on three Beretta properties: their villa in Russia, the Beretta Museum, and from their home in Milan. La Burt directed the shoots remotely.

“I did about a thousand iterations on each piece,” La Burt said. Slowly working toward the feast of Disney psychedelia and otherworldly transformation the piece would become.

The result is a truly unique piece of transhumanistic art honoring the one family whose business might have done more to push forward transhumanism than any other company in the last five centuries.

15

Luke Whyte

Luke Whyte is SuperRare's Editorial Director.

Feature Articles

Artist Discovery

Feature Articles

David Cronenberg on mortality and kissing a silicone corpse in his first short, NFT film

David Cronenberg on mortality and kissing a silicone corpse in his first short, NFT film

The Death of David Cronenberg

David Cronenberg on mortality and kissing a silicone corpse in his first short, NFT film

Whyte Luke
3 years ago

When the life-size prosthetic of David Cronenberg’s corpse first arrived at his Toronto home, the artists that built it covered the decaying body so the neighbors wouldn’t see them unloading it from their trunk. They carried the 5’9” silicone deadweight, which stars alongside the renowned filmmaker in ‘The Death of David Cronenberg,’ up four flights of stairs to his daughter Caitlin’s childhood bedroom, and they tucked it into bed.

And there they left it. Alone, on its back, mouth agape, skin marbling: purple, red, white.

Cronenberg is hailed as one of the more inquisitive and often unsettling directors of the last half century, known for exploring themes of bodily transformation, technology, and infection in films such as Videodrome (1983),  The Fly (1986) and Crash (1996). At 78 years of age, the poignancy of conducting daily life beneath the attic where your bloating corpse lies is far from lost on him. In fact, it was one of the main attractions.

“I left it up there for a couple days and I’d occasionally just go and check it out,” he said. “It had an emotional resonance for me. The obvious thing is [the short film] is a little metaphorical piece about a person embracing his own death. I embrace it, partially, because I have no choice: this is man’s fate.”

He spoke to me from Athens during pre-production for his first feature film in seven years. A seven years in which his wife passed away.

“[She] died in that house, in a bed, and it felt when she died, partly, like I died, and I still feel that,” he said. “That corpse is my wife to me. So it’s not just a frivolous horror film. It is a film about love and the transient aspect of being human.”

The film itself, which David and his daughter Caitlin shot together and tokenized as an NFT on SuperRare, is a minute long. A robed Cronenberg pauses at the foot of his bedded corpse. There is a stillness, an emphasis on natural light and the weight of the matter. He breathes heavily before approaching his decomposing head. And then the ambient hum is punctuated by wet corpse kisses. Spooning follows.

“It’s as if you stumbled upon it on the internet – no music, no credits,” Cronenberg said. “The Cronencam: A couple of cameras stuck in my bedroom.”

The prosthetic was created by Black Spot FX for the fourth season of the SLASHER series produced by Shudder.

“There was a moment [while working on the series], when the special effects people said, we’ve got a surprise for you,” Cronenberg said. “I was introduced to my corpse, and it was terrific.”

Later in 2021, when Caitlin proposed the idea of an NFT project, David thought of the body.

“I have unfinished business with this dead version of me,” he said.

Cronenberg convinced Black Spot FX, also based in Toronto, to loan him the prosthetic and bring it to his house, but he wasn’t immediately sure what the project would involve. So the corpse waited, like a morbid muse, in Caitlin’s childhood bed.

“I think contemplating your own death, whether you are religious or not, is a difficult thing,” Cronenberg said. “It is difficult to experience your mortality. It is an existing creature trying to contemplate nonexistence. A lot of religions are built around trying to avoid that.”

‘The Death of David Cronenberg’ is an opportunity to face-off with existential dread, a chance to address the question, “I’m almost 80, what do I do about that?”, he said.

“I used to say long ago, whenever I kill somebody in one of my movies, I’m really rehearsing my own death, and that became a cliche, but there is truth in it,” he said. “It is part of life to deal with your own death. People know they won’t live forever, and that their parents won’t live forever. You never finish dealing with that. Every decade of your life you have to revisit it specific to where you are.”

And certainly, there is something relatable and universally human about the film and its production: The daughter of a genre-defining horror filmmaker works with her aging father to look life’s only absolute – its only known horror – directly in the face, and then give it a cuddle.

“To be able to actually kiss your [dead self],” Cronenberg said, “There’s no question it’s fantastic. I think everyone should do this. Everyone should have a corpse made by Black Spot FX.”

15

Luke Whyte

Luke Whyte is SuperRare's Editorial Director.

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Negative Space

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Uncovering abandoned multi-million dollar Ethereum projects: The life of an NFT archeologist

Uncovering abandoned multi-million dollar Ethereum projects: The life of an NFT archeologist

Robbie card

Uncovering abandoned multi-million dollar Ethereum projects: The life of an NFT archeologist

Whyte Luke
3 years ago

This story, like so many worth telling, begins with an unprompted DM on Twitter:

“This is a bit of a strange message to send, but I saw that you were a presenter at the Christie’s Art + Tech Summit in July, 2018,” it read.

The recipient, former EU Blockchain Observatory & Forum member William Skannerup, told me the message went on to inquire about “plastic ‘gift cards’ in each goodie bag” given to attendees. They’d become quite valuable, wrote the sender, adding, “if you find the gift card, let me know, and we can maybe set up a Zoom call to discuss a sale price.”

Confused but intrigued, Skannerup replied.

“He messaged me back immediately,” Skannerup said, “saying, ‘I can offer you $35,000.’”

The gift card, if you haven’t already guessed, was one of the now famous “Lost Robbies,” cards SuperRare gave away at the 2018 Christie’s Tech Summit. Artist Robbie Barrat split one of his digital pieces into 300 frames, each of which was minted separately on SuperRare, like a jigsaw puzzle. Physical gift cards were then dropped into the attendee gift bags that could be scratched to reveal how to claim digital ownership of one of the unique frames on SuperRare.

Essentially, each attendee with a gift bag was given the opportunity to claim one unique frame. However, since NFTs were nearly unknown at the time, it is believed that most of the cards ended up in the trash. Consequently, their value has skyrocketed. One sold this August for over $630,000.

Over 5,000 miles away from Skannerup’s London apartment, the DM’s sender, Adam McBride, awaited his reply in Costa Rica. McBride had found Skannerup after days sat at his keyboard, meticulously running date, area, and keyword searches on Google, Twitter, Facebook and other platforms for any mention of the word “art” in London around the time of Christie’s Summit.

This type of pursuit is McBride’s passion. He is one of a small, dedicated group of digital historians who spend their days combing through and documenting NFTs’ distant past, which is somewhere between the Octobers of 2015 and 2018.

“My bio is NFT archeologist,” he said. “That is what I am. For me, it is treasure hunting; digging up these pieces of the past which walk us through the story to today.”

McBride graduated from the University of Vermont in 1993 and moved to the Virgin Islands. He met his wife there and they moved to Costa Rica. At the age of 33, he was able to sell his first business and had enough money to retire.

What followed was the realization of a dream: McBride surfed every day, he traded stocks online. He was free, he was liberated, he was… bored as fuck. Slowly, surely, over the course of years, the need for purpose overtook the desire for relaxation. He opened businesses, started The Adam McBride Show podcast, and then, late in 2020, he discovered NFTs.

They became his singular focus, with each podcast episode focusing on the NFT market.

“And then the MoonCats happened in March, and then Curio [Cards] happened the next day, and Etheria happened like two days later,” he said, “man, and I was in the rabbit hole 10, 12 hours a day hunting, because I wanted to find my own MoonCats.”

MoonCatsRescue was an Ethereum NFT project of 25,600 pixelated cats minted by Ponderware on August 9th, 2017 and then promptly abandoned. When NFTs exploded in early 2021, Twitter user @ETHoard tweeted that they “started digging around and came across #MoonCatRescue.”

Given the historical value and scarcity of the cats (at the time they were the second oldest NFT project discovered on Ethereum), demand – and the price point – skyrocketed.

Curio Cards predate MoonCats and, since their discovery, it has been announced that the whole set will go on auction at Christie’s this October. Etheria is a map tile project from 2015 that kicked off a third frenzy of buying.

“So, me and a guy I met on Twitter spent literally – literally – 12 hours a day, just looking through smart contracts trying to find projects,” McBride said. “On Google, searches by date, searches by keywords – because people didn’t use ‘NFT’ back then so we’d search ‘digital art,’ anything.”

Most of the projects he digs for don’t have websites. They’re just blips on the blockchain that can be uncovered through searches of Etherscan, Github, Discord and Reddit threads.

“[In 2016 through 2018,] there were literally guys in their basements building little side projects,” he said.

Then, in the middle of April, they stumbled across a contract for a project named EtherWaifu – as in the animated Japanese romantic characters fetishized by gentlemen with unshaved necks.

Screenshot from EtherWaifu homepage

And just last week, using keyword searches to comb through old contracts from 2016, McBride discovered Pixel Map.

“After about a week [of keyword searching],” he said, “I tried the word ‘pixel’ and, probably on the tenth or eleventh tab, Pixel Map popped up.”

Reconstructed screenshot of PixelMap and chat by @eikonbneath

Pixel Map was a side project of developer Ken Erwin in November of 2016 where he put pixels on a map and bound them to the blockchain.

McBride reached out to Erwin through LinkedIn and the two began talking. He helped Erwin revitalize and market the project and, as of four days ago, the Pixel Map has been relaunched and resulted in over $3.4M in earnings for Erwin.

That brings us to McBride’s favorite adventures of all time, The Lost Robbies, which he discovered after reading a Tweet:

“The treasure hunt aspect of it was just too delicious to me,” he said. “I went downstairs, got a cappuccino, talked to my wife and said, ‘I can’t think of a better investment of my time right now than trying to find one of these things.”

Soon after, McBride sent the DM that started this story and Skannerup found himself dumping out a box of business cards.

“I have this box with 3 to 4 thousand business cards in it that I poured on to the floor,” he said. He began sifting through the cards. “And wow, there it was. There was the card.”

Skannerup had found a Lost Robbie – a plastic 3×5” card valued at over half a million.

Instead of scratching it and claiming the frame, he’s opting to sell it unscratched.

“If you scratch a lottery card it is quite obvious what the next step is,” he said. “But I realized there can’t be many unscratched Robbie’s left, most of them have been lost and the others redeemed. Is there someone that would appreciate it as a collector’s item? The first person to have the name without any transfer history?”

It’s an interesting concept: a physical object that holds value because of the digital object it represents, like an unopened pack of virtual baseball cards wrapped in plastic.

Skannerup took the card to be framed in glass.

“You can’t imagine how confused the framemakers were as to why I wanted to frame some plastic card,” he said. They also didn’t appreciate his insistence on watching them work.

“I’m going to be sitting here with you,” he told the framemaker. “If you stole it and scratched it, I don’t have any legal right to say it is mine.”

While Skannerup was at the framemakers last weekend, McBride was launching the Pixel Map Discord channel, promoting the project. Personally, he’s yet to make any money from Pixel Map. Actually, he’s yet to make money from any of his archeological digs, save some gifted NFTs from those he’s helped.

“For me, it is about the treasure hunting,” he said. “It is about telling the story of the history of NFTs and how they grew from their digital art origins into this new thing.”

“In 20 years, everyone on earth will know what an NFT is. We’re just so lucky we get to be a part of this at the beginning.”

Note: If you’re interested in the sale of Skannerup’s unscratched Robbie, contact him on Twitter, @skannerup

15

Luke Whyte

Luke Whyte is SuperRare's Editorial Director.

Hash Recipes

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Weekly Top 10

Watch: Speed run of artist Nicole Ruggiero’s collaborative artwork composition in Cinema4D

Watch: Speed run of artist Nicole Ruggiero’s collaborative artwork composition in Cinema4D

Escapism Room

Watch: Speed run of artist Nicole Ruggiero’s collaborative artwork composition in Cinema4D

Whyte Luke
3 years ago

When Nicole Ruggiero began work on “Escapism Room” it felt like the end. These were the early days of the pandemic in NYC. Hospitals were filling up. Toilet paper was disappearing. People were trapped and afraid.

“Escapism was an important mechanism used to cope in the tight quarters of NYC before masks and hand sanitizer were accessible,” the New York-based 3D artist said. “Going outside felt as dangerous as driving blindfolded.” 

With her piece, the natural landscape inside of the bedroom “was inspired by the deep longing to experience a walk in the forest alongside the inability to do so dwelling inside the concrete jungle,” she said.

Working in Cinema4D, Ruggiero composed “Escapism Room” during a series of Twitch streams where friends and fans contributed ideas and gave advice. She recorded the streams, stitched them together, and compressed them into the two-minute speed run video below.

“Lighting was a key element, adding balance to the composition and color palette: contrasting blues and greens with hints of orange, yellow, and red,” she said. “Other tools used included Octane Render, Quixel Bridge and Photoshop.”

“I prefer Cinema4D + Octane Render for compositing and rendering because it’s great to work with material, shaders, and lighting,” she said. “It feels more streamlined than a program like Maya. However, I use Maya quite often when working with characters. Other programs I use often are Daz3D, Substance Painter, Zbrush, Unreal Engine 4, and After Effects.”

Escapism Room” speed run in Cinema4D
Music by Jack Duros

See more of Ruggiero’s work on SuperRare and Foundation. Find her on Twitter here.

15

Luke Whyte

Luke Whyte is SuperRare's Editorial Director.

Hash Recipes

Negative Space

Weekly Top 10