Scientists have already forseen the end of life on this planet as we know it, a certainty within the next five million years. This may not have any direct bearing on us as a civilization currently--but in the misguided ideals that find us perpetually inhabiting a planet that was never really ours, how can we be so sure and so bold as to make plans past tomorow?

That is the root of the ideal represented in this art installation that made its debut at the Orlando Museum Of Art on Halloween weekend this year. "Art and Technology '97" was a celebration of the tools and developments that have allowed humankind to express themselves, aid in progression and secure the basics of life. With a customary tongue-in-cheek, Bing Fütch desired to turn the tables a bit and offer up a nightmarish contemplation of what could happen if we're not too careful with our pioneering efforts.

A&T chairperson Lynn Finch first sent out hundreds of e-mails to facilities, studios and individuals; seeking help and contributions for the event. Upon receiving the information, Bing contacted Lynn and offered his services.

"Please review my web sites and let me know if I have the whoo-ha to participate in this fine show of yours", was his introductory message to the harried chair, who immediately checked his references and remarked, "Boy, do you have the whoo-ha or what? Get off the phone already, I've been trying to reach you all afternoon!" After a 20 minute conversation on the phone, the official offer was made to The Dark; produce an installation for our celebration.

Immediately, meetings were set with key individuals who were a part of Bing's local network. First contacted was Michelle Semenza, who had already provided inspirational sketch art for the Dark Studios animated production "A Grave Matter".

Also contacted were filmmaker Eric Carasella, post-production engineer Chris Gordon, computer animator Ed Howell and technical consultant Ken Pilcher. A meeting was set-up during the first week of October at local hang-out Jungle Jim's, which turned out to be a harbinger of things to come as only two of the intended participants showed up. After discussing the meat of the exhibit with Michelle and Ken, calls were placed to the other principals to set up brainstorming sessions and get the art development underway.

Central Florida is a burgeoning art community and is slowly developing a radiant scene despite right-wing bureaucratic suppression from the city government.

With absolutely no allocated budgets to work with, OMA relied upon self-supporting troops to provide the excitement for this event, providing assistance from in-kind donations and sponsor acquisitions. As the elements of "Teknodawn" began to gel, Murphy's Law and ironic technological shut-downs created a formidable strain on the crew as materials were gathered to fortify the world premiere installation.

Eric and Chris flaked out in world-series fashion, leaving Bing to scramble for re-focus about two weeks before the debut. In addition to this egregious slight, CG animator Howell suffered a computer crash that wiped out all of the work that had been rendered. Despite these windfalls, work continued in earnest as Bing checked out the museum site--a room had been set aside for the Dark Crew--and the actual production of artwork began.

"Teknodawn" was planned as a tribute to the human force behind the technology. In an effort to give credit where credit was indeed due, most of the artistic elements would be decidedly lo-tech. Paintings and pencil sketches, General MIDI music and sculpture. With Michelle already working on thumbnails for her piece, Bing began to work on his two static works--an acrylic painting and a clay sculpture.

Art as communication is a concept that isn't lost on Mr. Dark--who has spent a career attempting to break down the barriers that exist between people through the interactive medium of art. During the preparations for the exhibit, pause was taken to analyze what running themes should be present in each work. A stark comparison between humanity and emerging invention was the intent. Each artwork would marry the two in an uneasy depiction of what Bing felt to be the current state of existence for most people.

"When you think about how far we've come in such a short time as compared to past advancements, you realize that as we become more sophisticated--we also gain a sort of fleeting confidence from our achievements, especially when they go brutally wrong," says the exhibit producer. "Technology is a wonderful thing, but it tends to undermine our efforts to evolve just as much as it aids us in our conquests."

Having never attempted to paint a vision upon canvas before, Bing grabbed some supplies and began to work. Based upon many sketchings made in restaurants around Orlando, he fashioned a twilight landscape featuring hundreds of pink people who converge upon a giant monitor situated in the hills outside of a city. Early attempts to render the PC monitor were disastrous, according to Futch.

"My perspective is not fully trained yet and the lines of dimension were a huge problem for me," he says. "But I overcame them to a certain degree--I was successful in that people at least knew what the hell I was trying to convey--and in that, I think it's successful art."

For Bing's other piece, designs were sketched on bar napkins and legal pads for two weeks before a concept was finalized. Originally, the sculpture was to be a bust of a man with hollow eyes and a huge circuit board protruding from his head. Chicken wire would be utilized for the skeleton and nailed to a base. Again, without a clue as to what procedures to follow, the intrepid first-time sculptor happened upon a perfectly sized armature in an art supply store and the final design decision was made.

The armature, complete with stand, was fashioned out of lightweight magnesium wire which could be twisted easily in any direction. An ethernet card was secured from Michelle, and with a few alterations in the basement of Dark Studios with a hammer and screwdriver, the board was then lowered over the upraised arms and head of the figure. Once in place, Bing began to pose the model. The intent was to show the surprise registering on the hapless dude who had suddenly sprouted digital love handles.

With body language set, application of speckled clay began. The base was covered first, in order to bring the ground level up to meet the model's extended feet. Balls of clay were rolled up and then pressed around the wires with a distinct line forming the ankle joint. Then the legs were covered--Bing stepping back from time to time in order to judge the "muscle tone".

Work proceeded quickly, and used up a lot less clay than was anticipated. All told, fifty pounds of the stuff had been purchased and only one or two pounds were actually used. Using his wet thumbs to smooth out contours in the clay, Bing's clay man showed definite surprise by the time work began on the facial features. The figure couldn't have too much of an identity since it was a cypher for the human race in general. This same figure would appear in many of the works once "Teknodawn" saw its fully realized debut.

Two hours after the first stylings began, clayman was finished. Proud papa held up his virgin piece and exclaimed, "it dies!", which is more of a telling utterance than anyone could have possibly imagined. Upon awaking the next morning, Bing discovered huge cracks on the arms of the model that had happened while the clay dried. With a handful of clay and some water, he repaired the cracks--wondering what the problem might be. It later turned out that the clay was water-based and therefore more prone to shrinking than oil-based clay. Nevertheless, the patching of cracks continued until finally--in a fit of inspiration, Bing began to paint the model with a mottled red color. Along the midsection of the body where the circuit board intersected, he created a torrent of blood that ran down one leg and pooled upon the ground. Other cracks were painted as scars and lacerations.

The resulting imagery easily took the prize for most disturbing image at the event. Placed dead center in the middle of the gallery, wounded clayman received the most scrutiny from visitors, who alternately laughed out loud and cringed in disgust upon seeing his perpetually horrified visage. "The thing that's neat about the elements of 'Teknodawn' is the fact that although we're portraying technology in the midst of a show that highlights the flash and wow of the digital experience, we're using organic methods of art here--clay, acrylics, pencils." said Mr. Dark. "Don't get me wrong--we're going to have some fun bits of our own cutting edge brouhaha to mix in with it all--but it was important that the exhibit be firmly rooted in humanity."

During all of this, the music was being created. Like some sort of feral renaissance man, Bing would work a little on the painting, then head into the studio and compose for the rest of the day. In all, 40 minutes of intensely intricate music was written for the exhibit, each piece took approximately 20 hours to fully produce. On the opening day of the event, 50 minutes of improvised soundscapes were added and mixed down onto a VHS tape. With minutes to spare, the Dark crew assembled all artworks, placed phone calls to the other artists and headed out to the museum for a combination opening night gala and masked costume ball.

Speakers, VCR's and works were arranged. Due to the last-minute entrance of the crew, pictures were not able to be hung until the morning. Also, a horrendous thunderstorm had kicked up outside, threatening to thin out the expected guests and soak the equipment. Halloween was turning out to be a little spookier than usual. Dressed in his old Mission: Bermuda Triangle outfit from Sea World, Bing met up with Michelle, who had witched out for the evening. Elton showed up dressed as an upstanding black man and the Dark crew simply dressed in black. The costumes and masks lent an appropriate carnival atmosphere for Mr. Dark's latest artistic production--and the weekend was just beginning.

On the following morning, the rest of the exhibit was set up. A video kiosk with VCR was brought in to run Anne's computer animations. A PC equipped with a video projector was brought in to send images to the wall. Again, Murphy intervened and some computer errors re-routed the invention and vision for the presentation. Hurrying back to the studio, Bing grabbed his own personal PC and brought it back to the museum in order to correct the error. Soon, animations and descriptive text were available to gallery guests who wondered aloud what it all was supposed to mean. " Well, that's what I want you to figure out," Mr. Dark would say gleefully. "As you walk around the room, look carefully at each work and see if you notice a common element in all of them."

After a walk around the gallery, visitors would often come back to Bing and chat for awhile with him about some of the elements and the overall deeper meaning. One lady confessed that she her life had been uprooted when her laptop failed. "My Quicken was on there, now I have to balance my checkbook by hand--I haven't done that for five years!" she said. Indeed, many of those who were party to this twisted look at technology were of the same sentiment; be afraid, be very afraid.The music churned along in the background, alternately issuing forth elaborate rhythms and melodies and then charging in with subsonic bass tones and dissonant passages. Mechanical and computer sounds mixed into the soundtrack caused some people to suddenly leap into the air out of fright. Then, the voice of Mr. Dark intoning the mantra "fear those who not fear the future" inspired Tina DeMasi to project this ominous phrase onto the wall. Sliding past and over guests--scrolling across clayman and casting its own shiny blue light--this touch added a futuristic visual that many people found themselves uttering as they left the display.

At the end of a long Saturday, the associates headed out to a nice sushi bar nearby and remained out till all hours of the night. The other exhibitors and presenters throughout "Art and Technology '97" ranged from computer-generated still art and animation to chakra-inducing pentatonic music for the purpose of relaxation. In between, there were MIDI ensembles, DJ's, booths for Siggraph '98 and a whole host of demonstrations of the art.

After getting to know some of the folks that make up part of Orlando's cutting edge network, Bing returned for the final day of the event. With quite a lot more traffic than the previous two days, it was easier to gauge reactions to the elements of "Teknodawn".

Elton's work got lots of chuckles and nods of amusement while people returned over and over again to take pictures of Michelle's canvas. Clayman and the cross painting elicited curious responses that often brought people to stand extremely close to the works. There were three distinct types of gallery goers that could be detected. One type would stand timidly at the doorway, listening to the rumbling music and looking around the room. Another type would walk in briskly, do a quick tour and exit without a word.

The third type spent an average of eight minutes perusing the display, often questioning Bing--who sat behind the computer desk processing the pictures that had been taken all month. In all, the turn-out was substantial--the contacts made, excellent.

More importantly, the Dark Team had set a goal and, despite the formidable opposition of forces, were able to turn out what was generally regarded by visitors and staff alike as a highly evocative and entertaining art installation.

The quartet have been invited back to produce another exhibit for the upcoming Cutting Edge Orlando show, and plans have been made to deliver the next installment of "Teknodawn", fully realized and more terrifying than ever. With only two years until the 21st century, the word needs to get out. And fast.