Questões de Concursos

Text 7A1-II

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

Robert Frost. The Road Not Taken. 1916 (adapted).

Text 7A2-II

In October 1971, a gentleman called Frieder Nake published a note entitled, There Should Be No Computer Art, which I quote here. “Soon after the advent of computers, it became clear that there was a great potential application for them in the area of artistic creation”, he began. “Before 1960, amazing, large, expensive, digital computers helped to produce poetic text and music. Analog computers, or only oscilloscopes, generated drawings of sets of mathematical curves and representations of oscillations. It was not before the first exhibitions of computer produced pictures were held in 1965 that a greater public took notice of this threat, as some said, progress, as some thought. I was involved in this development from its beginning.

I think that the way the art scene reacted to the new creations is interesting, pleasing, and stupid. I stated in 1970 that I was no longer going to take part in exhibitions. I find it easy to admit that computer art did not contribute to the advancement of art if we compare the computer products to all existing works of art. In other words, the repertoire of results of aesthetic behavior has not been changed by the use of computers. This point of view, namely, that of art history, is shared and held against computer art by many art critics. There is no doubt in my mind”, Frieder Nake said, “that interesting new methods have been found in the last decade which can be of some significance for the creative artist”.

As you might imagine, this was a bit of a controversial take. Here was a man who had for part of the previous decade been an insider, an advocate for the use of algorithmic and generative processes to create art. However, he was now seeing things from another perspective. I’ll just finish with another piece from what he posted in that article: “Questions like ‘is a computer creative’, or ‘is a computer an artist’, or the like, should not be considered serious questions, period. In the light of what we are facing at the end of the 20th century, those irrelevant questions do not matter”.

Where is the Art? A History in Technology.

Internet: <https://www.infoq.com> (adapted).

Texto 8A2-I

Nenhum homem é uma ilha, completa em si mesma; todo homem é um pedaço do continente, uma parte da terra firme. Se um torrão de terra for levado pelo mar, a Europa ficará menor, como se tivesse perdido um promontório, como se fosse o solar de teus amigos ou o teu próprio. A morte de cada homem diminui a mim, porque na humanidade me encontro envolvido. Por isso, não procures saber por quem os sinos dobram; eles dobram por ti.

John Donne. Meditações. Tradução: Fabio Cyrino.

São Paulo: Editora Landmark, 2012 (com adaptações).

Text 7A2-II

In October 1971, a gentleman called Frieder Nake published a note entitled, There Should Be No Computer Art, which I quote here. “Soon after the advent of computers, it became clear that there was a great potential application for them in the area of artistic creation”, he began. “Before 1960, amazing, large, expensive, digital computers helped to produce poetic text and music. Analog computers, or only oscilloscopes, generated drawings of sets of mathematical curves and representations of oscillations. It was not before the first exhibitions of computer produced pictures were held in 1965 that a greater public took notice of this threat, as some said, progress, as some thought. I was involved in this development from its beginning.

I think that the way the art scene reacted to the new creations is interesting, pleasing, and stupid. I stated in 1970 that I was no longer going to take part in exhibitions. I find it easy to admit that computer art did not contribute to the advancement of art if we compare the computer products to all existing works of art. In other words, the repertoire of results of aesthetic behavior has not been changed by the use of computers. This point of view, namely, that of art history, is shared and held against computer art by many art critics. There is no doubt in my mind”, Frieder Nake said, “that interesting new methods have been found in the last decade which can be of some significance for the creative artist”.

As you might imagine, this was a bit of a controversial take. Here was a man who had for part of the previous decade been an insider, an advocate for the use of algorithmic and generative processes to create art. However, he was now seeing things from another perspective. I’ll just finish with another piece from what he posted in that article: “Questions like ‘is a computer creative’, or ‘is a computer an artist’, or the like, should not be considered serious questions, period. In the light of what we are facing at the end of the 20th century, those irrelevant questions do not matter”.

Where is the Art? A History in Technology.

Internet: <https://www.infoq.com> (adapted).

Text 7A2-I

If we believe that our own information age is defined by the digital structures of electronic communication, we must take early modern culture as inextricably bound to the medium of print. Printed text and image arose within a few years of each other in the mid-fifteenth century, credited to the German goldsmith Johannes Gutenberg, who seemingly drew together a series of extant yet disparate technologies into a new machine that could print several thousand sheets a day. The ancient oil or wine press, the goldsmith’s craft in fine metal carving, the late-medieval development of plentiful rag paper, and the recent formulation of more stable oil-based inks enabled Gutenberg’s ‘revolution’.

Similarly, early photography developed from a coming together of two otherwise disparate technologies: on the one hand, the pinhole camera through which capture a refected view of the world as an image, and on the other the chemical means to fix the effects of light exposure on paper. In both cases, these technologies shared aesthetic resources with other media available at the time, while also producing forms of representation that were uniquely theirs, and which offered access to new ways of seeing, and enabled new forms of subjectivity. The greatly expanded flow of visual information facilitated by these technological breakthroughs worked to quicken the circulation of knowledge, and the foundations of thought itself.

Genevieve Warwick and Richard Taws. After Prometheus:

Art and Technology in Early Modern Europe. In:

Art History – Journal of the Association of Art Historians.

Special Edition: Art and Technology in Early Modern Europe. p. 201 (adapted)

Text 7A2-I

If we believe that our own information age is defined by the digital structures of electronic communication, we must take early modern culture as inextricably bound to the medium of print. Printed text and image arose within a few years of each other in the mid-fifteenth century, credited to the German goldsmith Johannes Gutenberg, who seemingly drew together a series of extant yet disparate technologies into a new machine that could print several thousand sheets a day. The ancient oil or wine press, the goldsmith’s craft in fine metal carving, the late-medieval development of plentiful rag paper, and the recent formulation of more stable oil-based inks enabled Gutenberg’s ‘revolution’.

Similarly, early photography developed from a coming together of two otherwise disparate technologies: on the one hand, the pinhole camera through which capture a refected view of the world as an image, and on the other the chemical means to fix the effects of light exposure on paper. In both cases, these technologies shared aesthetic resources with other media available at the time, while also producing forms of representation that were uniquely theirs, and which offered access to new ways of seeing, and enabled new forms of subjectivity. The greatly expanded flow of visual information facilitated by these technological breakthroughs worked to quicken the circulation of knowledge, and the foundations of thought itself.

Genevieve Warwick and Richard Taws. After Prometheus:

Art and Technology in Early Modern Europe. In:

Art History – Journal of the Association of Art Historians.

Special Edition: Art and Technology in Early Modern Europe. p. 201 (adapted)

Text 7A3-II

400 million people speak English as their first language; another 1.4 billion as a second tongue. Born 1,600 years ago among the Germanic tribes of northern Europe, English became global. A new exhibition at the British Library, named Evolving English, traces for the first time the incredible journey launched by the Frisians, Saxons, Angles and Jutes who sailed to southeast England, and whose descendants created the Vespasian Psalter in the eighth century. From the Vespasian Psalter the journey moves on through England’s early literary heroes, Beowulf, Sir Gawayne and the Grene Knight, and on to Jonathan Swift.

The curators of Evolving English have been clever to focus not just on English at school and English at work, but English at play, from spoonerisms to malapropisms, puns and palindromes and the 1,800 words invented by William Shakespeare — among them “green-eyed”, “go-between”, “well-read” and “zany”. Not only was Shakespeare the greatest English writer, he could have been no other kind.

Internet: (<www.economist.com> (adapted).