At the School of Visual Arts in New York, you can get your degree

The words of Laurie Anderson — “At the School of Visual Arts in New York, you can get your degree in Net art, which is really a fantastic way of thinking of theater in new ways.” — ring with both wonder and quiet revolution. Beneath their surface lies a truth about the ever-evolving nature of art, and the unending capacity of the human spirit to reinvent its forms of expression. For in her reflection, Anderson does not merely speak of technology or academia; she speaks of the rebirth of creativity itself — of how the ancient language of performance finds new voices through the medium of the modern age.

Laurie Anderson, a visionary artist, composer, and storyteller, has long been a bridge between worlds — between sound and silence, between human and machine, between tradition and innovation. When she speaks of Net art, she gestures toward a new frontier of artistic consciousness, one that transcends the walls of theaters and galleries to dwell in the invisible web that now binds the globe together. What once required a stage and an audience can now unfold in the vast, digital ether — a place without borders, where creators and viewers alike become participants in the performance of meaning. In this way, Net art becomes not only an art form, but a philosophy: a testament to humanity’s eternal desire to connect.

Anderson’s insight reaches deep into the soul of history. From the earliest firelit rituals of the ancients to the grand theaters of Greece and Rome, art has always evolved alongside its instruments. When the Athenian playwrights first brought tragedy to the stage, they too were experimenting with a new technology — language itself, shaped into rhythm, dialogue, and song. Their “Net art” was the web of chorus and mask, of voice and shadow, connecting human emotion to divine mystery. And just as they transformed myth into performance, so too do today’s artists transform data, images, and sound into experiences that reach across the digital cosmos. The tools may change, but the essence remains the same: art is the mirror of human possibility.

To think of theater “in new ways,” as Anderson invites, is to recognize that performance is no longer confined to the physical stage. The internet, once a machine of information, has become a theater of the collective mind — a vast space where millions of voices speak, create, and share in real time. The stage has dissolved into the infinite, and every artist who enters this realm must learn to dance with both technology and spirit. In this new world, art is not merely observed; it is lived, shared, and constantly rewritten. And yet, as Anderson reminds us, this is not a loss but a liberation. The old walls have fallen away, leaving behind the purest essence of creativity: the communion between imagination and presence.

History gives us many who have embraced such transformation. Consider Leonardo da Vinci, who saw no boundary between art and science, between the tangible and the visionary. His sketches of flying machines were not only engineering feats, but performances of the mind — theatrical expressions of what humanity might one day achieve. In much the same way, the creators of Net art build worlds of light and code that extend the theater of imagination beyond flesh and stone. They are heirs to Leonardo’s spirit, using new tools to express ancient dreams — the longing to see, to be seen, and to transcend.

Yet Anderson’s words also carry a quiet warning: that as art evolves, so must our understanding of it. We must not dismiss the digital realm as cold or mechanical, for within it lives the same pulse that once moved the bards and sculptors of old. The artist’s task, in every age, is to reveal the humanity within the new — to show that even in circuits and algorithms, there is poetry waiting to be born. The danger is not in progress itself, but in forgetting that all technology is, at its heart, an extension of the soul. Art is not the tool; it is the intention.

So let this be the lesson, O listener: embrace the new, but honor the eternal. Do not fear the changing forms of expression, for they are merely vessels for truths as old as time. If your canvas is a screen, fill it with light. If your stage is the web, let your performance be one of authenticity and heart. Remember that art, in all its forms, is the language by which humanity remembers itself.

For in the end, Laurie Anderson’s words remind us that the future of art — and indeed of life — lies not in clinging to the past, nor in worshiping the new, but in weaving both together. The School of Visual Arts, the Net artist, the digital storyteller — all are inheritors of the same ancient flame that once burned in the caves of the first painters and the temples of the first poets. The mediums change; the message remains: that creativity is the bridge between worlds, and through it, we continue to rediscover what it means to be human.