Fields (2023) is a deceptively simple yet profoundly moving digital artwork that transforms a quiet interface into a powerful space for shared emotional presence, connection, and communal reflection. Its significance lies in how it reimagines digital participation, not through algorithm-driven processes or prompt-controlled interactions, but through an open-ended, non-intrusive space that invites collaboration in anonymity. It creates something never-ending and beautiful.
The minimalist design and soft interactions embedded in Fields position it as a slow, simple, and uncomplicated form of digital art, in contrast to most online platforms’ fast-paced and often overwhelming nature. Unlike other spaces that prompt users to type words, share arguments, or provide data, forcing interaction and response, Fields restricts users to only plant-based emojis, fostering a symbol-farming community. There are no chats, usernames, metrics, or confusion. Instead, serene sound, soft gestures, and a visual presence gently grow over time.
Key themes emerge within the platform: digital community without performance, slowness as resistance, non-verbal symbolic language, reclaiming the interface for softness, and the presence of mutual care. Fields has no “like” button, comment section, or algorithm pushing engagement. Users simply exist and interact through plant emojis, participating because they want to, rather than for validation or “success.” This contrasts with most social media and online platforms built around performance, recognition, and identity.
The platform’s design, which limits interaction to plant emojis, made me reflect on the following questions: How much can I say while saying nothing at all? What does it mean to “plant” an emoji and to see others do the same?
While interacting on the platform, I found that Schager challenges my and others’ perceptions of digital spaces. It invites reflection on how web design shapes human behavior and how slowing down, removing noise, and eliminating distractions can foster more intentional presence. Before editing and contributing to the platform, I spent time simply admiring and observing. In other digital spaces, I typically dive in without much thought. Most digital environments and games are structured around urgency, speed, and the need to create an identity, even when the information is often false. Web interfaces are designed to optimize behavior, harvest attention, and consume users. Fields is the opposite. While engaging with Fields, users, including myself, become collaborators rather than consumers. I appreciate how Fields serves as a co-creation space, offering creative freedom through non-verbal communication via emojis. It reminds me that we don’t need to be instant, overwhelming, or driven by constant validation. Instead, we have the power to engage in something meaningful and worthwhile.
In an age dominated by algorithms, toxicity, and overstimulation, Fields offers a radically different experience. It shows us what might happen if a digital space were anonymous, soft, collaborative, and driven by want rather than need, ego, or data. It demonstrates the need for more digital spaces designed with care and attention to the abovementioned characteristics. Schager challenges us to rethink our relationship with design and emotion and the connection between interfaces and imagination. I love the concept of interacting without the pressure of being seen, where each interaction contributes to something bigger. At present, online interactions and digital platforms can often feel overwhelming and extractive. It’s refreshing to see a space that’s healing and the opposite of the norm. It reminds me that digital platforms don’t have to be designed or function the way they do now.
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Check out Arden Schager’s work Fields.
