The Human Fighter

The Human Fighter is performance with a two foot tall animatronic of a female humanoid fighting her creator, me, with a baston (wooden stick) from the martial arts style called Arnis, Kali, or Eskrima (Filipino Martial Arts). Arnis is a weapon and hand-to-hand style of combat but is typically known for opponents striking each other with bastons in the place of swords and blades. 

Her arm holding the baston that strikes her opponent is constructed with motors powered by a microcontroller called Arduino. This way she is able to move her arm in multiple directions accurate to a human's anatomical capabilities. Her right hand holds the baston while her left hand remains stationary at her chest for defense. Her legs are also powered by motors so she can move her feet to an offset position. 

While she does appear to be human-like (her human face, her hands, and feet), some of her metal armature and wiring is left exposed. At first I demonstrate the strikes to her. Then as she performs these strikes, I stand in front of her with my own baston blocking them. This performance/piece is in conversation with narratives like Frankenstein and the relationship between creator and their animated creation. This stems from my fascination with technology mimicking (human) life.

As a multi-disciplinary artist, I am interested in representing the human experience. In my computing artwork, I commonly find myself personifying robots to explore the relationship between humanity and technology. One of my favorite mediums of storytelling is animation because through drawing, you are bringing anything you can imagine to life. So similarly I am fascinated by animatronics, especially the physicality and three dimensional aspect you do not have with animation. 

When you think of animatronics you might think about theme parks, in particular Disneyland’s highly sophisticated animatronics. These robots are extremely visually detailed and move naturally and realistically; they have the ability to pass for living beings (without the common logic that the space aliens from James Cameron’s Avatar are not real). Similarly, I hope that the audience senses humanity in my animatronic however my goal is to achieve that beyond the realism that multi-million dollar technology produces. 

By performing Tapi Tapi ( a two-person exercise with one striking and the other doing blocks and checks) with me, the Human Fighter evokes humanity by participating in this human tradition of combat. Specifically, the tradition of Filipino families passing down their own unique styles and techniques of Filipino Martial Arts to their children (hence why there's varying names for it and its techniques).

It’s not about how realistic she looks or how advanced her movements are, it is about her performing as a human with her Creator. I believe that humans' capacity for empathy is limitless; this is why we might find ourselves personifying mundane, inanimate objects. My desire for the audience to find humanity in my animatronic is based on this understanding that it will come from performance and empathy versus sophisticated technology and realism. Furthermore, this artwork is also an exercise of my own empathy and kinship towards my animatronic. 

My work takes into account the dynamic of creator and creation found in classics like Frankeinstein by Mary Shelley and the Greek Myth of Pygmalion. As something I’ve built (or “birthed”) and as an extension of myself (she is a female fighter like me), the act of teaching her to fight me gains another empathetic context. 

Tradition of Technology Imitating Life

When it comes to the exploration of the relationship between humanity and technology, The Human Fighter is a work that follows in the footsteps of the android Alter 3, a robot with a human face and arms but exposed mechanical torso. It is powered by an artificial neural network and sensors that react to the environment. Similar to the Human Fighter, Alter 3 is not meant to visually appear to be human and the team behind it instead aimed to evoke this sense of liveliness through its movement. Additionally, Alter 3 has explored human and robot collaborative performance as the android sang with and conducted an orchestra. While the android’s conducting skills are debatable, it created a one of a kind performance. When you watch it, it’s hard to see the android as lifeless technology but as a lively performer. The Human Fighter aims to create a similar experience of viewing the animatronic as my lively protégé. However, there is the added layer of combat–probably one of the oldest human traditions. Furthermore, there’s a subtext for the audience watching me fight my own creation. It establishes the emotional context of the relationship of Master and Student, although she is not a real person. Alter 3's focus on movements informs my emphasis on my robot "learning" and mimicking my movements instead of her appearance.

Similarly, Can’t Help Myself also places a robot in the typical role of a performer/artist. A large, industrial robotic arm trapped in a clear enclosure, constantly sweeps a dark red liquid through the use of visual detection technology. While the artists may have intended to explore technology's rapidly growing place in our lives, this robot is notable for eliciting sympathy from its human viewers. Akin to Sisyphus, many imagine that the robot is suffering or exhausted. The Human Fighter aims to elicit empathy from the audience but in relation to her human Creator. What feelings are elicted by the Creator teaching her Creation? Is there intimacy in this collaborative performance that obscures the reality that she is a pre-programmed robot? By performing, do my own feelings and kinship towards the robot impart onto the viewers? The Human Fighter seeks to blur lines of how we perceive technology.