Leonardo Ulian

AS A CHILD IN ITALY, Leonardo Ulian would often dismantle his electronic toys to “uncover the secrets hidden inside them.”

“The components I discovered were like magical objects that could make things work in ways I couldn’t understand, and that was incredible,” he says. He took this childhood curiosity and used it to fuel his degrees, the first in microelectronics and then in fine art. After graduating, while living in London, he started reading books about religion and spirituality, grappling with unconventional approaches to the meaning of life. This led him to delve deeper into the subject of new technologies.

He began dismantling modern electronic devices, wanting “to reveal what lies within the everyday objects we use”. Exposing printed circuit boards, resistors, microchips and more, he started to get a feel for how electronic circuits are governed by rules and balance. This echoed what he’d learned about the creation of sand mandalas in Tibetan Buddhism. He decided to combine the two seemingly incompatible subjects.

“I particularly like exploring online markets in Eastern European countries to find colourful and chunky components.”

He says, “I found it fascinating that mandalas are geometric representations of concepts that go beyond geometry. They reflect the systems that regulate the creation of the universe, much like how electronic circuits function as a system to make something work in a specific way.” Now, Ulian is famed for his signature Technological Mandalas, exhibiting them and his other sculptures globally.

He sources his materials online from different suppliers and says, “I particularly like exploring online markets in Eastern European countries to find colourful and chunky components. Many of these pieces were intended for use in old USSR electronic equipment, which was built to last for decades.”

And while he doesn’t use the components in the way of the original function – so how an engineer would – he does, initially at least, follow a set path before allowing the art to take over, saying: “At the centre of my work is always a microchip, which serves as a repository for information and the starting point from which everything emerges. Surrounding the microchip is a geometric arrangement of components, typically positioned within clearly defined spaces.”

His inspiration comes from many spaces, and he says, “I find the symbolism and archetypes present in ancient traditions and different cultures particularly fascinating. I incorporate them into my work in a more cryptic way. I prefer not to be too explicit, as I like to maintain a level of hermeticism.”

Afrane Makof

THIS NOTION OF BUILDING upon ancestry and heritage, to inform both the aesthetics and the meaning imbued into technological art, is also important to Ghanaian artist Afrane Makof. Speaking from his home in Kumasi, he credits Kwame Nkrumah University of Science and Technology as pushing a revolution in the art that’s emerging from Ghana.

He thinks heavily about how electronic devices are classifed as foreign objects, even though many of the raw materials needed to make them are mined in Africa. They take on the ‘foreign’ label after being processed and made into consumer goods elsewhere before returning, often as used or discarded goods. Thus, he stresses: “They are not foreign to us.”

And much like Ulian, his relationship with electronics began as a child. He dismantled his father’s television and radio to investigate where the voices emerged from. “Are there people stored inside?” It was years later, while studying for a Master’s in Finance, that he became more interested in using his artistic skills to investigate the full life cycle of electronic devices and how they fit within the communities he grew up in. He had an epiphany about technology and our relationship with it.

‘Makof takes these used devices… and transforms them into anti-machines, which he calls ‘Trons’, where they now exist and interact in new ways, defying their original purpose.”

“You realise these devices are prosthetic extensions of the human self because they come in to supplement needs that we ourselves cannot do,” he says. Makof takes these used devices, describing them as amputees because of the one-time connection and use they had with a human, and transforms them into anti-machines, which he calls ‘Trons’, where they now exist and interact in new ways, defying their original purpose. He shares that each ‘Tron’ he creates represents the accumulated charge of the history, energy, and connections that each device brings to this new space.

He describes his practice as ‘alchemy.’ “I open the cases of electronic devices that I have, and I work with internals… to play with this idea of white box processing, as opposed to black box processing, where people don’t really concern themselves with the internal workings of electronic devices. We just concern ourselves with inputs and outputs.”

He highlights how single printed circuit boards represent history, heritage, and international trade when examined carefully. “You have different components, each serving an interesting purpose, with most components coming from different parts of the world. So you can have a component from China, a component from Australia, components from the United States, components from Turkey, all coming onto one board to serve a purpose.”

For Makof, while the pieces are inherently political, the idea of wonder comes from bringing in the idea of possibilities and provoking conversation about the art and technology used to create something new from something old.

Julie Alice Chappell

SCULPTOR JULIE ALICE CHAPPELL is well-versed in this world. In her studio in Portsmouth on the south coast of England, she creates miniature insects and bugs whose bodies are made out of upcycled printed circuit boards and other components.

She’s currently working on creating ‘Multi-Arthropod Assemblages’, which mix obsolete electronic components with plastic packaging. “My PCB art project, The Night Bugs, was inspired by some beautiful black glass circuit boards I came across whilst dismantling some old electronic gadgets.

“The fine silvery dotted circuit patterns deep inside the glass look like stars shining against the black night sky, hence the name The Night Bugs.'”

Chappell first started playing with electronic components while studying for her Fine Art degree, when she found a box of resistors in a local craft bank. The resistors resembled the “jumbled up bodies, legs and antennae of a colony of ants,” and thus a passion to create a swarm was born.

“When I obtained some broken and obsolete electronics to take apart, I discovered the unseen beauty of circuit boards with their metallic colour and intricate patterns often inlaid with real gold. Beautiful creations, hidden away inside electronic gadgets, never meant to be seen.”

“I just had to use these beautiful PCBs in my insect sculptures, especially when learning that many insects have very “at bodies, allowing them to live and hide under rocks, in crevices and under tree bark and roots. PCBs are more or less flat, and they added another stage in the evolution of my insects.”

“I discovered the unseen beauty of circuit boards with their metallic colour and intricate patterns often inlaid with real gold.”

Julie Alice Chappell

She uses her art to showcase the relationship between nature and humanity. And although not a trained engineer, she’s built up a reputation as a sculptor who uses the pared-back circuit boards in fascinating ways.

“At first, I would take apart any old equipment that I could get hold of. After a while, I became well known in my neighbourhood for what I do, so lots of locals brought me their broken electronics to take apart. It has its problems; it’s hard work taking electronics apart. I sometimes hurt myself and get cut. There are a lot of leftover components that I can’t use.”

“Luckily, in more recent years, a couple of electronics companies regularly send me lots of tiny circuit board components that they no longer need. This means I no longer have to do the difficult part of taking apart larger electronics. I always send the companies a little insect sculpture as a thank you.”

Like Ulian and Makof, Chappell wants her art to help people see the world as interconnected and to take a second glance at how we use materials we perhaps take for granted, as they’re so common to us. She says: “It is my hope that everyone who sees my creatures will feel a sense of wonder at the beauty of the natural world and the unseen beauty of technology.”