Hi, welcome to .txt! .txt collects various writings, ideas, processes, and scribbles by artist Alexandra Crouwers. .txt is a work in progress, a continuation of 20 years of scattered online writing on subjects such as my own artistic parcours as well as others’ practices, media archaeology and digital art, ecological themes (extinction, anxiety, activism), and the position of the arts and artists in society.
RIP.hd is a small library of my broken hard drives, the oldest dating from approximately 2003. Previously stored in a cardboard box, I decided my defunct memory devices needed a more dignified container. I repurposed a vintage metal archive box, and lined it with blue fabric.
A report on a visit to Palaeolithic caves of Lascaux and Chauvet, from the point of view of my media arts practice: are these cave ancient multimedia installations? Let’s find out!
The first indication in my work of what is now called ecological anxiety appears in my 1998 art school graduation paper. Over time, extinction and post-human (or even postlife) visions began to populate my work. An overview.
Announcing .txt, the return of the blog! Wary of 20 years of social media platforms and general internet enshittification, I posted this little rant to LinkedIn, of all places, on May 18, 2026.
(Dutch) Text written and read on the occasion of the book presentation and opening of the exhibition ‘Letters to Survivors’ by Toon Teeken in antiquarian book shop Demian, in Antwerp. April, 2026.
Originally published on my initial research blog, The Appeal of the Unreal, in april 2019, this (recently re-edited) post is part of a lineage of thoughts and research on how contemporary (media) art practice may relate to the widest possible scope of art history.
A follow up on my post of August, 2025. With Alex Verhaest, Stijn de Meulenaere and Roel Heremans, I am investigating the gap between our media art practices and the art establishment of Belgium/Flanders with support of Kunstenpunt.
First published on LinkedIn, this ‘rant’ responds to the gap between the so-called media arts and the traditional art world, exposing a lack of institutional knowledge about artistic engagements with (digital) media.
What does “indigenous” mean in Western European countries like the Netherlands and Belgium? What stories and knowledge of the land have been lost over the course of centuries? Have we lost ourselves, perhaps, too? Is there a way to reconnect to our own ‘indigenousness’?
This chapter (in progress) touches upon the contradictory nature of the habitat diorama in particular. Featuring Karen Wonders, Donna Haraway, Palais de Tokyo and Ludwig Museum Budapest.
Exhibition text for Revenants at Wouters Gallery in Brussels, curated by Rectangle. With Kelly Richardson and Nicolas Sassoon (& Rick Silva). January 21 – February 20, 2023.
Article for HART art magazine about collecting digital art in the NFT space. Published on paper in issue 222, March 2022 in tandem with the first of an online column series highlighting a work from my collection.
NFTs: an adventuresque experimenza into the world of blockchain and crypto. In 2021, I ventured into the NFT phenomenon as part of a cohort of eco-aware artists that began to engage with an energy-efficient alternative to the more well known blockchains. It was riveting: a report.
The representation of biodiversity, animals, and ecologies at the Museum of Natural Sciences in Brussels. A critical review of the Living Planet hall at the Brussels Museum of Natural Sciences (“…resembles a high-end shopping mall more than a natural history museum”), which opened in the Fall of 2020.
“The more things change, the more they remain the same.” An essay, based on a complaint I sent to a product’s customer service, lamenting the loss of a particular taste after the company changed it dramatically. A version was published in 2021 in VIS Journal #6.
A collaboration with Joebob Graphics. Ips typography is a font of which the design is based on spruce bark beetle traces. The European spruce bark beetle (Ips typographus) leaves intricate traces in bark, resembling an alien alphabet. The font is only partly legible.
It can be difficult to find agency in an internet dominated by large corporations. By way of an artistic contribution, I submitted two proposals for emoji, new additions to the expanding digital pictogram vocabulary.
Initially posted on my (now defunct) Facebook profile, and picked up by performing arts platform Etcetera, this ‘rant’ responded to yet another case of ‘art bashing’ by populist politics who refuse to understand the potential of the arts, and the self-reliance, resilience, and resourcefulness of many professional artists.
This is a report on the astonishing potential of reaching audiences of millions through web-based art – in this case, distributed through a GIPHY artist account. 2019 – 2020 and 2023 – ongoing. Counter update May 2026: the gifs on my account are at 534.6M views.
‘Mistakes: the artist talk’ (2020) is a video essay (or rather: Powerpoint on steroids), made during the first Covid-19 pandemic lockdown. It responds with immediacy to the unusual situation, connecting the European spruce bark beetle outbreaks to the human respiratory virus, and pop culture to eco-anxieties.
The American Museum of Natural History (AMNH) in New York is famous for its dioramas. This post is a report of my research visit to the AMNH in March, 2019. It was part of a residency, which unfortunately was cut short due to the Covid pandemic. See also: Mistakes. The artist talk.
A skeuomorph object desires to be something else. Skeuomorphism imitates another material or object. It is intwined with simulation technologies. This post is a WIP.
Château de Breteuil near Paris, houses a collection of automata and period room dioramas, depicting historical events that may or may not have taken place in the castle. Visited Oct. 2019.
Report of a research visit to Daguerre and Bouton’s only remaining diorama at the church of Bry-sur-Marne: a 19th century high-tech religious theatre experience.
Here are some highlights from a YouTube playlist I made for animation and film students of LUCA in Brussels, in the hopes it would help them understand (digital) media art better.
A review, published in 1844, of the Diorama theatre show in London by reporter J. Saunders: a lively account of this pre-cinematic, immersive experience. Diorama theatres showed enormous, semi-translucent paintings that were animated using light- and sound-effects.
In different ways, Peale’s 1822 self-portrait ‘The Artist in his Museum’ finds itself on a threshold. I like to use the painting as an analogy for artistic research, lifting the curtain to reveal the knowledge of other disciplines to feed the art.
It turns out humans are not the only species that uses visual trickery: the bowerbird constructs elaborate architectural seductions, complete with forced perspective.
Powell Cotton Museum | Quex House & Gardens | Birchington, UK | quexmuseum.org | Visited June 2019 | Himalaya at dawn (constructed in 1905) is considered to be ‘the oldest untouched diorama of its type in any museum around the world’ (1: PC Museum Souvenir Guide, page 6) All animals on display were collected by explorer major Percy Horace Gordon…
Note: this is a repost of an April 2019 entry on my portfolio website. Illusions behind glass The screen has become omnipresent in our lives: starting with TVs entering our homes, then computer monitors, smartphones, tablets, VR sets. We’re all looking through glass walls at illusions. The illusion is not confined to films, tv programs, and funny cat videos on YouTube,…
A meandering reflection on the many problems with Dutch theme park Efteling’s ‘dark ride’ “Droomvlucht” – a favorite ride of Dutch extreme right wing politician Geert Wilders. Do note: the Efteling’s fairy tale theme and use of special effects occupy a special place in my artistic trajectory. It is a love/hate relationship.
Steven Mithen explains cognitive fluidity in his book The Prehistory of the Mind: The Cognitive Origins of Art, Religion and Science. Our brain mixes up different realities, leading to surprising combinations. I propose an idea that follows up on this: perhaps some people’s desperation for a fiction fix helps them fall into conspiracy traps.
Does growing up with stationary tractor engine sounds influence musical taste in later life? Does a familiarity with loud machines equal a love for ‘loud’ musical genres? A hypothesis.