This website offers an incomplete and ever-evolving glimpse into Fudge’s artistic practice, featuring works from 1989 to the present. Rather than an archive or portfolio, it is a provisional research field—a recursive, intuitive system of unfinished thoughts, speculative images, delayed gestures, and allegorical file structures.

The site is in perpetual flux. Works are added, removed, rewritten, or reimagined. Pages vanish and reappear. What you encounter may be raw, in progress, or already obsolete. The goal is not to present a body of work, but rather to demonstrate its state of entanglement:

Version → Copy → Series → Allegory → Simulacrum → Augmentation → Machine Dreaming.

Fudge's works intersect across media—digital, analog, conceptual, and textual—and no longer possess a singular medium identity. Their presentation here dissolves the distinction between finished work and metadata, image and interface. The site privileges a Gesamtkunstwerk logic, favoring the system to which the signature object belongs over the object itself and structure over style.

The interface straddles two contradictory impulses:

1. A user-friendly mode that allows for intuitive navigation,

2. A disruptive, speculative mode in the tradition of l'art brut, anti-design, and procedural refusal.

   This is not a site designed to "work"; it is a site designed to question the necessity of its own existence.

The central problem is that of the artist—how to unify a vast, unresolved archive. 

This archive ranges from the earliest desktop-era compositions to the most recent experiments with machine learning. In this sense, the website is an experiment in metaphysical user experience (UX)—an artwork in the form of navigation or a slow-motion implosion of the digital studio.

On structure

This is neither a lexicon nor a stable taxonomy.

Content is arranged in overlapping, intersecting, and diverging paths. Datasets are grouped under symbolic themes: Painted Desert, Yellowstone, and Liberty. Each theme is a contains for related topics.

Drive A (Painted Desert): simulacra, simulation, and Nietzsche’s erased horizon

Drive B (Yellowstone): Platonic workspaces and algorithmic desertification;

Drive C (Liberty): The teleology of presets and the ideological ghosts of software tools.

Subfolders further explore these themes through speculative allegories—visual essays on tool palettes, anti-interfaces, algorithmic thresholds, and user presets as theological issues. In Drive B, for example, subfolders 008–015 depict image-processing operations as philosophical theater. Other folders investigate predetermined ranges of algorithmic possibility, such as the materialization of probability and the fate of presets.

Each drive operates as a distorted Cubist panel, refracting an idea through media, styles, and timeframes.

On updating, machine learning, and retroactive futurity.

Fudge’s method is recursive. He creates new works and continually rewrites, edits, and reprocesses his digital corpus, which dates back to 1994. This is less a form of revisionism than a retrospective futurity—a mode of working in which the past is updated according to the speculative logic that animated it.

Recent works influenced by machine learning and language-to-image systems have given new urgency to older inquiries. Fudge has long suspected that the real horizon—after Nietzsche’s death of God—is the disappearance of the image itself. From glyph to bitmap, from disc to diffusion model, the trajectory is clear. The image, once drawn or painted, is now spoken into being.

In the 1990s, Fudge allegorized the digital tools used to create digital allegories. Today, he views these automated, fluid, textually summoned tools as having fulfilled their teleological arc. What was once metaphorical has become literal. The image is a sentence. The sentence is a system. Systems rewrite themselves.

—Dada Rongwrong, 1917.

—Data Ritewrite, 2020.

Infinite regress. Recursive allegory.

A Final Instruction:

Scroll without expectation. What you find may not be clarifying.

This site offers no thesis, only a cloud of recursive metadata, cool memories, and unfinished allegories.

If the work disappears while you're viewing it, it may be part of the piece itself.

Art history is not the context.

The disappearance of art is.

No comparable archive exists.

You are now inside it.

Whether by accident or design, the tour ends here. Or begins.

Accueil