The Genesis of Computer Media at Poly

Introduction

This exhibit will argue that the early computer-generated media produced by Judith Bregman and A. Michael Noll, two distinct researchers at Poly in the mid-20th-century, was not merely a byproduct of scientific calculations, but a deliberate interdisciplinary collision. By repurposing tools meant for ballistic trajectories and crystallography into “paint brushes” for aesthetic expression, these two pioneers established a computational hybridity that serves as the predecessor of the modern day Integrated Design & Media program at Tandon.

“Film Stills, Color Photographs (8”x10”).” Judith Bregman Collection, RG 013, Box 1, Folder 19. Poly Archives at Bern Dibner Library of Science and Technology, New York University, Brooklyn, NY. (Left)

Portrait of A. Michael Noll. In "Interview with Dr. A. Michael Noll." Archives of IT. April 13, 2022. https://archivesit.org.uk/interviews/dr-a-michael-noll/. (Right)

To explore this historical argument, I will dive into both Bregman’s and Noll’s work in the area of computer-generated media as parallel but converging case studies. While Bregman approached computation as a scientific visualization tool and Noll approached it as an artistic medium, both ultimately demonstrate that early computer media was not an accidental byproduct of engineering, but a deliberate rethinking of what computers could mean in a cultural context. By putting these sources together, I will show that computer media emerged not from a single discipline, but from a shared experimental mindset that crossed the boundaries between art and science.

History of Plotting Machines

Before the high-resolution screens and graphics processors of today, computer images had to be physically produced. Early digital media was not purely virtual; it was deeply bound to mechanical processes, photographic technologies, and the material limitations of its devices. In the 1950s and 1960s, computers could calculate images long before they could display them directly. To make these calculations visible, engineers and artists relied on output devices such as oscilloscopes, cathode-ray tube displays, pen plotters, and microfilm printer-plotters. These machines translated numerical information into lines, points, and light, giving physical form to otherwise invisible computations (Nake, 2010; Patterson, 2015).

For Bregman, this process often involved converting mathematical simulations into moving images frame by frame. Her films were generated through scientific computing systems that controlled visual output on cathode-ray tube displays, which were then recorded onto 16 mm or 35 mm film. This method allowed abstract mathematical phenomena to be rendered as dynamic visual events. The resulting films were not simply recordings of scientific data; they were carefully constructed translations of numerical processes into cinematic experience. In this sense, Bregman’s work belongs to a broader tradition of scientific filmmaking in which film served as an instrument of analysis as well as communication (McKim, 2021).

Photograph of the Stromberg Carlson SC-4020 at Bell Telephone Laboratories,

Inc. in Building 3 at the Murray Hill, NJ facility.

Noll, by contrast, often worked with the Stromberg-Carlson S-C 4020 microfilm plotter at Bell Labs. Originally designed for scientific and business graphics, the S-C 4020 used a cathode-ray tube to expose images directly onto 35 mm microfilm. Rather than drawing with ink, it plotted points and vectors by directing an electron beam across the screen. The resulting negatives could then be enlarged into photographic prints, transparencies, or posters. This hybrid process was crucial to the emergence of early computer art (Patterson, 2015).

The aesthetic qualities of early computer art were inseparable from these technological constraints. Because output devices were optimized for vector graphics, early images were dominated by lines, grids, and geometric forms. Curves were approximated through dense sequences of short line segments, and tonal variation was often simulated through repetition or layering. What later came to be recognized as the distinctive visual language of early digital art was therefore not merely stylistic; it was rooted in the operational logic of the machines themselves (Nake, 2010). At the same time, these machines introduced elements of unpredictability. Technical glitches, coordinate overflows, calibration errors, and material imperfections could all shape the final image. Similarly, accidental shifts in photographic enlargements or imperfections in film exposure often produced unexpected visual effects that artists embraced rather than corrected.

This interplay between control and chance connected computer art to broader artistic traditions. Just as printmakers, photographers, and filmmakers worked collaboratively with their tools and materials, early computer artists discovered that machines were not passive instruments but active participants in the creative process. The plotter’s limitations shaped the resulting image as much as the programmer’s code. In this respect, the computer did not eliminate materiality; it simply relocated it from the gesture of the hand to the behavior of the machine.

Understanding this material history is essential to appreciating the significance of both Bregman’s and Noll’s work. Their images and films were not abstract outputs floating in digital space; they were physically produced and shaped by the mechanics of cathode-ray tubes, photographic film, and plotting systems. The visible line, the grain of film, and even the occasional machine error all testify to the embodied nature of early computational media.

Judith Bregman’s Cinema

Judith Bregman, a physicist and crystallographer at Poly, represents the practical origin of computer media. However, her work was never merely technical. Bregman saw film as an educational tool: a way to make abstract scientific phenomena visible and understandable in an intuitive manner. In the proposal for grant to the National Science Foundation, Bregman described her films as a means of presenting concepts in modern physics that "cannot be demonstrated in the usual classroom manner” (1965). This statement reveals the central motivation behind her work. She was not simply documenting scientific knowledge but also inventing new methods for communicating it.

Bregman’s background in crystallography profoundly shaped her visual thinking. Crystallography is concerned with structures that are mathematically ordered yet invisible to the naked eye, requiring scientists to rely on abstraction. These same principles animate her films. Rather than depicting reality as it appears, Bregman translated invisible systems, atomic arrangements, probability distributions, and quantum motion, into moving images. Thus, her films function as both scientific models and aesthetic objects, rendering mathematical relationships perceptible through motion and rhythm.

Swinging Quanta, Copy 1. 1976. Judith Bregman Collection, RG 013, Box 2, Reel 7. Poly Archives at Bern Dibner Library of Science and Technology, New York University, Brooklyn, NY.

The Packet of an Uncertain Gaussian, Copy 2. 1968. Judith Bregman Collection, RG 013, Box 2, Reel 10. Poly Archives at Bern Dibner Library of Science and Technology, New York University, Brooklyn, NY.

In both films that Bregman worked on as a physicist, the “characters” being shown on the screen aren’t people, but probability waves and particles. In Swinging Quanta, quantum motion and oscillation is visualized, translating advanced mathematical concepts into visual images. In The Packet of an Uncertain Gaussian, the computer is used to visualize the wave-particle duality, something that is simply impossible to capture with a traditional film camera. With these films, Bregman translated the rigid math of the IBM scientific computer into fluid visual narratives. This wasn’t just scientific data output, it was a novel type of cinema designed to make the invisible visible.

Bregman’s films can also be understood as an early form of what we might now call “data visualization as storytelling.” Rather than presenting quantum information as static graphs or equations, she translated them into time-based media, allowing viewers to experience scientific processes unfolding. This shift from static to dynamic representation is significant because it transforms the role of the viewer from someone who interprets abstract symbols to someone who perceives motion and pattern intuitively. Bregman was not just communicating science more effectively; she was redefining how knowledge itself could be represented through computation. As discussed in Oscillons and Cathode Rays, early computer art often emerged from “photographic hybrids” (McKim, 2021), where researchers used long-exposure photography and cathode rays tubes to capture the movement of physics, blurring the lines between empirical recording and aesthetic creation. Bregman’s work at Poly exemplifies this hybridity, where the requirements necessitated the birth of a new visual medium. She showed a perfect example of presenting science in a creative manner that could be appreciated as an art form.

A. Michael Noll’s Experimentation with Computer Art

If Bregman provided the scientific foundation, then A. Michael Noll, a Poly alumnus and a researcher at Bell Labs, provided the artistic intent. As Christiane Paul argues in Digital Art, Noll’s work represents a pivotal shift where the computer transitioned from a calculator to an engine for aesthetic inquiry (Paul, 2015), making Noll one of the first prominent computer artists in the country. From the early 1960s onward, Noll deliberately used the computer not simply to display data, but to investigate aesthetics, perception, and the nature of creativity itself (Noll, 1994).

Noll, A. Michael. Gaussian-Quadratic. 1963. A. Michael Noll Papers, RG 047, Box 11, Folder 9. Poly Archives at Bern Dibner Library of Science and Technology, New York University, Brooklyn, NY.

One of Noll’s earliest and most significant works, Gaussian-Quadratic, reveals the experimental logic that defined his approach. Created on an IBM 7090 mainframe using a Fortran program, the image combined Gaussian random numbers on the x-axis with a quadratic equation on the y-axis. In Noll’s words, these images emerged from the combination of “mathematics with calculated random numbers,” an approach now recognized as a foundational form of algorithmic or generative art (Noll, 2025). Rather than drawing by hand, Noll designed systems capable of producing many possible images, then selected the results he found most aesthetically compelling. As he later recalled, “The computer would calculate and generate many different versions of the patterns – I could then choose which I liked” (Noll, 2025). This statement is crucial: it positions Noll not as a passive operator, but as an artist working through computational processes.

Picasso, Pablo. “Ma Jolie” (Woman with a Zither or Guitar). 1911–12. Oil on canvas. Museum of Modern Art, New York.

The visual form of Gaussian-Quadratic also demonstrates Noll’s willingness to embrace serendipity. When the y-axis values exceeded the plotter’s maximum coordinate of 1023, they wrapped around modulo 1024, producing an unexpected folding effect. Noll did not initially intend this distortion, but he recognized that it enhanced the image’s cubist appearance (Noll, 2025). He later noted that the resulting composition reminded him of Pablo Picasso’s Ma Jolie, illustrating how technical limitations could generate new aesthetic possibilities (Noll, 2025). This connection highlights a deeper similarity: just as Picasso used a system of intersecting facets to deconstruct the human form, Noll used algorithmic limits to deconstruct the digital line. The productive interplay between control and chance being shown here became central to early computer art. As discussed in Routing Mondrian: The A. Michael Noll Experiment, Noll’s work challenged conventional distinctions between algorithmic procedure and artistic intuition by demonstrating that creativity could emerge from carefully structured randomness (Taylor, 2012). Ultimately, Gaussian-Quadratic serves as a digital mirror to Ma Jolie, proving that whether through a paintbrush or a plotter, the dismantling of order often reveals a more profound truth about human perception.

Noll, A. Michael. Computer Composition With Lines. 1964. A. Michael Noll Papers, RG 047, Map-Case: Drawer 3. Poly Archives at Bern Dibner Library of Science and Technology, New York University, Brooklyn, NY.

Mondrian, Piet. Composition with Lines. 1917. Oil on canvas. Kröller-Müller Museum, Otterlo, Netherlands.

This piece by Noll famously mimicked a Piet Mondrian painting. Noll conducted a kind of “Turing Test” for art, inspired by Alan Turing’s famous proposal that a machine could be considered intelligent if its responses were indistinguishable from a human’s (Turing, 1950). He asked viewers whether they preferred the human-made Mondrian or the computer-generated imitation, thereby testing whether a machine could produce art that audiences perceived as equally compelling. This experiment challenged the notion that artistic “soul” was exclusive to the human hand. Utilizing IBM 7090 mainframes computer and Stromberg Carlson S-C 4020 plotter, Noll pushed computational technology to its creative limits, becoming a pioneer in the field of computer generated art, as claimed in his memoir (Noll, 2016).

In Peripheral Vision, it is explained that the S-C 4020 was never intended for art; it was a business tool designed for recording data (Patterson, 2015). Noll creatively utilized this industrial tool to explore human perception. This repurposing of seemingly cold and corporate technology for subjective exploration is a cornerstone of the argument that engineering and art are inextricably linked. Furthermore, The Story of Gaussian-Quadratic frames Noll’s work as both a technological milestone and an aesthetic landmark, while Routing Mondrian situates Noll’s experiments within broader debates about originality, replication, and machine creativity (Noll, 2025; Taylor, 2012). Together, these sources reveal that Noll’s goal was never simply to make pictures with a computer. He sought to explore the computer as a creative medium: one capable of extending human imagination and redefining the very meaning of art in the digital age.

Art, Science, or Both?

In April 1965, A. Michael Noll and Béla Julesz exhibited computer-generated images at New York’s Howard Wise Gallery. The show placed computer art into direct dialogue with the dominant currents of mid-twentieth-century American modernism, particularly geometric abstraction, Op Art, and the lingering influence of Abstract Expressionism. Noll’s algorithmic line drawings echoed the ordered geometry of Piet Mondrian and the perceptual experimentation of Op artists such as Bridget Riley, yet they also diverged from these movements by foregrounding process, mathematics, and machine logic as aesthetic principles (Paul, 2015). Rather than imitating existing styles, Noll used the computer to explore how technical factors like formal systems, randomness, and repetition could themselves become the basis of artistic creation (Noll, 1967).

This emphasis on systems aligned Noll’s work with a broader shift in the 1960s art world toward conceptual and systems-based practices. As artists increasingly moved away from the gestural individualism of Abstract Expressionism, they became more interested in structured rules and impersonal processes. In this context, computer art was both timely and unsettling. It fit neatly within emerging movements such as Systems Art and Conceptual Art, yet it also challenged deeply held assumptions about the role of the artist’s hand (Burnham, 1968; Dietrich, 1986). Therefore, Noll’s work occupied a conflicted position. It was aesthetically familiar enough to be legible within contemporary art discourse, but conceptually radical in its reliance on algorithmic generation.

Noll, A. Michael. "The Digital Computer as a Creative Medium." IEEE Spectrum 4, no. 10 (October 1967): 89–95. https://doi.org/10.1109/MSPEC.1967.5217109.

Noll himself consistently argued that the computer should be understood not as an autonomous creator, but as a new artistic medium. In his influential essay “The Digital Computer as a Creative Medium,” he proposed that the computer could extend human creativity by enabling forms and processes impossible to achieve manually (Noll, 1967). He later reflected that his goal was never to replace the artist, but to explore how computational systems could expand the range of artistic experimentation. The computer generated many possible outcomes, but human judgment remained central. As Noll later explained, the machine produced variations, while the artist determined which ones possessed aesthetic value (Noll 1994).

Noll, A. Michael. Computers and the Visual Arts. 1994. A. Michael Noll Papers, RG 047, Box 4, Folder 10. Poly Archives at Bern Dibner Library of Science and Technology, New York University, Brooklyn, NY.

Despite this, reactions to Noll’s work were often mixed. Critics frequently described computer-generated art as cold, mechanical, or emotionally detached. Such responses reflected broader mid-century anxieties about automation, bureaucracy, and the increasing presence of machines in everyday life. In an era shaped by industrial rationalization and fears of technological dehumanization, the idea that a computer might participate in artistic creation immediately struck many as unsettling. For some critics, computer art seemed to threaten the romantic ideal of the artist as an inspired individual whose work expressed uniquely human emotion (Usselmann, 2003). These points of debate were central to the landmark exhibition Cybernetic Serendipity, which argued that the computer was a tool for serendipitous discovery rather than just rigid calculation (Reichardt, 1968) and later reinforced in “The Dilemma of Media Art” by Usselmann. The skepticism directed at Noll’s art thus mirrored larger cultural concerns about whether machines might eventually encroach upon domains once considered exclusively human.

Noll pushed back strongly against these criticisms. He rejected the notion that computational art was inherently impersonal, insisting instead that creativity resided in the design of the algorithm, the selection of parameters, and the aesthetic choices made by the programmer. His experience seeking copyright protection for Gaussian-Quadratic especially underscored the novelty of this idea: the Copyright Office initially questioned whether a work generated by a computer could even be considered human authorship. Noll successfully argued that both the mathematical structure and the apparent randomness were products of human programming, thereby asserting the legitimacy of computer art within existing legal and cultural frameworks (Noll, 2025).

Judith Bregman’s films broaden this debate by demonstrating that computational creativity emerged simultaneously from scientific practice. Whereas Noll approached the computer as an explicitly artistic tool, Bregman used it to visualize quantum mechanics, crystallography, and other phenomena that could not be directly observed. Yet her films were more than instructional aids. By transforming equations and probabilistic models into moving images, she developed a cinematic language that shared many of the same concerns as avant-garde art: a form of art that is innovative and boundary-pushing (MoMA, 2026). Her work suggests that the boundaries between scientific visualization and artistic expression were always intertwined.

By comparing Bregman’s and Noll’s intentions, I can see two distinct approaches to computation at Poly. Bregman primarily approached the computer as a scientific and educational instrument, with her emerging from the needs of pedagogy and scientific explanation. Noll, by contrast, approached computation more directly as an artistic and perceptual experiment. His work intentionally entered the space of art exhibitions and debates about originality. Yet, despite these seemingly opposing goals, I found that both researchers arrived at a remarkably similar conclusion: computation could function as more than calculation alone. They represent two sides of the same historical transformation. One moved from science toward aesthetics, while the other moved from art toward computation. Taken together, Bregman’s and Noll’s work revealed that early computer media cannot be neatly categorized as either art or science, but rather an interdisciplinary culture that continues to define Tandon today.

Legacy at NYU

The legacy of Judith Bregman and A. Michael Noll is not confined to the archives. It lives on in the interdisciplinary programs that now define NYU’s approach to creative technology, most notably the Integrated Design & Media (IDM) program at Tandon. I believe that this program institutionalizes the very hybridity that Bregman and Noll helped pioneer: the understanding that computation is not merely a technical tool, but also a cultural, artistic, and expressive medium.

NYU Integrated Design & Media Gallery. "In Motion, In Progress." Spring 2026.

IDM at Tandon acts as the most direct descendant of the experimental spirit that emerged at Poly in the 1960s. Founded on the premise that engineering, design, and media production are mutually enriching rather than separate domains, the program encourages students to approach technology as both a functional system and a creative material. Students work across coding, physical computing, fabrication, animation, game design, and interactive installation, often combining technical rigor with artistic exploration (NYU Tandon, 2026). In this sense, IDM continues the tradition established by Bregman and Noll: using computational systems not simply to solve problems, but to ask new questions about human perception and experience.

The student work produced within IDM makes this lineage visible. Like Bregman’s scientific films and Noll’s algorithmic drawings, contemporary IDM projects frequently operate at the intersection of technical innovation and cultural inquiry. Some students use machine learning to explore questions of identity and bias, while others employ robotics or virtual reality to create immersive artistic experiences (NYU Tandon IDM Student Gallery, 2026). Although the tools have changed dramatically, the underlying principle remains the same: computation serves as a medium through which ideas can be visualized and expressed in a creative manner. What has shifted is the scale of possibility. Where Bregman and Noll worked within severe technical constraints, today’s students work with extraordinary computational abundance. Yet this abundance still depends on the same willingness to experiment across disciplinary boundaries.

NYU Integrated Design & Media Gallery. "In Motion, In Progress." Spring 2026.

IDM demonstrates that the modern day Tandon has become a major institutional home for the interdisciplinary ethos first exemplified by Bregman and Noll. It reinforces an idea that universities are not simply places where technology is taught; they are also places where technology is interpreted, critiqued, and transformed into culture. IDM continues a tradition in which engineers think like artists, artists work like engineers, and both engage critically with the social implications of the tools they create. The word “integrated” in Integrated Design & Media is more than a program title. It describes a historical tradition at Poly: one that stretches from Bregman’s scientific cinema and Noll’s computer graphics to the interactive installations, digital performances, and computational artworks created by students today. The convergence of engineering, art, and media that defines these programs is not a recent innovation. It is the continuation of a legacy that began decades earlier, when pioneers like Bregman and Noll first imagined that computers could do more than compute: they could create.

Takeaways

The history of computer-generated media at Poly isn’t a story of machines getting faster; instead, it’s a story of humans getting more expressive and creative. Through Judith Bregman’s scientific films and A. Michael Noll’s algorithmic artworks, computation emerged as both an analytical instrument and an expressive medium. Bregman demonstrated that scientific visualization could possess cinematic and aesthetic power, while Noll showed that algorithms and machines could become legitimate tools of artistic creation. Together, they reveal that the earliest digital media were born at the intersection of science, engineering, and art, rather than within any one of these fields alone.

Nevertheless, the work of Bregman and Noll also raises questions that remain deeply relevant today, especially in a controversial era increasingly shaped by artificial intelligence and machine-generated media. If audiences in the 1960s questioned whether a computer-generated image could be truly considered as art, similar debates now surround AI-generated content. These discussions force us to reconsider long-standing assumptions about creativity, authorship, and originality. To conclude this exhibit, I want to ask a question for viewers to consider: when a machine produces an image, who is ultimately the artist? Is it the computer, the programmer, the researcher, or the person interpreting the result? Rather than offering a single, direct answer, the history of computer-generated media invites all of us to think critically about where creativity begins, how technology shapes artistic expression, and whether art has ever truly been separated from the tools used to create it.

Reflection

I picked this research topic without having much prior knowledge about art, hoping that it would bridge my background in computer science with the art realm. If I had more time and a broader project scope, I would’ve loved to explore more about the evolution of digital art beyond the eras of Bregman and Noll. There is definitely a gap in the timeline for my project that would’ve been exciting to uncover but was unfortunately way beyond the scope. Another area that I didn’t have the opportunity to explore was the ITP / IMA program at Tisch. It would’ve been insightful to see how other programs that integrated technology and creative expression outside of Tandon evolved over the times. I’m sure that there would’ve been plenty of resources to dig into in NYU Special Collections regarding this program and Noll’s influences.

Ultimately, I hoped that this project would provide me with a different perspective on how to appreciate art as well as the artists themselves by bringing technology into the conversation (which it did). The relationship between humans and technology has always been a fascinating topic, and examining that relationship through the lens of creativity provided me with more insights on that dynamic. In the future, I will start going to art exhibitions, specifically contemporary ones that integrate technology to experience the possibilities of art as a digital form. In that sense, I truly appreciate doing this project, as it introduced me to a new area of interest from a very special perspective.

References

Primary Sources

• Noll, A. Michael. Computers and the Visual Arts. 1994. A. Michael Noll Papers, RG 047, Box 4, Folder 10. Poly Archives at Bern Dibner Library of Science and Technology, New York University, Brooklyn, NY.
• Noll, A. Michael. Computer Composition With Lines. 1964. A. Michael Noll Papers, RG 047, Map-Case: Drawer 3. Poly Archives at Bern Dibner Library of Science and Technology, New York University, Brooklyn, NY.
• Noll, A. Michael. “Early Microfilm Plotters at Bell Labs.” 2015. A. Michael Noll, The Web Site. http://noll.uscannenberg.org/PDFpapers/40204360.pdf.
• Noll, A. Michael. Gaussian-Quadratic. 1963. A. Michael Noll Papers, RG 047, Box 11, Folder 9. Poly Archives at Bern Dibner Library of Science and Technology, New York University, Brooklyn, NY.
• Noll, A. Michael. "The Digital Computer as a Creative Medium." IEEE Spectrum 4, no. 10 (October 1967): 89–95. https://doi.org/10.1109/MSPEC.1967.5217109.
• NYU Integrated Design & Media Gallery. "In Motion, In Progress." Spring 2026.
• Proposal to National Science Foundation. 1965. Judith Bregman Collection, RG 013, Box 1, Folder 7. Poly Archives at Bern Dibner Library of Science and Technology, New York University, Brooklyn, NY.
• Swinging Quanta, Copy 1. 1976. Judith Bregman Collection, RG 013, Box 2, Reel 7. Poly Archives at Bern Dibner Library of Science and Technology, New York University, Brooklyn, NY.
• The Packet of an Uncertain Gaussian, Copy 2. 1968. Judith Bregman Collection, RG 013, Box 2, Reel 10. Poly Archives at Bern Dibner Library of Science and Technology, New York University, Brooklyn, NY.

Secondary Sources

• Burnham, Jack. “Systems Esthetics.” Artforum 7, no. 1 (September 1968): 30–35.
• Dietrich, Frank. “Visual Intelligence: The First Decade of Computer Art (1965–1975).” Leonardo 19, no. 2 (1986): 159–69.
• Higgins, Hannah, and Douglas Kahn, eds. Mainframe Experimentalism: Early Computing and the Foundations of the Digital Arts. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2012.
• McKim, Joel. “Oscillons and Cathode Rays: Photographic Hybrids in Early Computer Art.” Photographies 14, no. 3 (2021): 459–79. https://doi.org/10.1080/17540763.2021.1959387.
• Mondrian, Piet. Composition with Lines. 1917. Oil on canvas. Kröller-Müller Museum, Otterlo, Netherlands.
• Nake, Frieder. “Paragraphs on Computer Art, Past and Present.” In Ideas Before Their Time: Connecting the Past and Present in Computer Art. Proceedings of the First International Conference on Computer Art and Design (CAT 2010), edited by Richard Riley, 55–63. London: British Computer Society, 2010.
• Noll, A. Michael. “The Howard Wise Gallery Show (1965): A 50th-Anniversary Memoir.” Leonardo 49, no. 3 (2016): 232–39.
• Noll, A. Michael. “The Story of Gaussian-Quadratic.” 2025.
• Patterson, Zabet. Peripheral Vision: Bell Labs, the S-C 4020, and the Origins of Computer Art. Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press, 2015.
• Paul, Christiane. Digital Art. 3rd ed. London: Thames & Hudson, 2015.
• Picasso, Pablo. “Ma Jolie” (Woman with a Zither or Guitar). 1911–12. Oil on canvas. Museum of Modern Art, New York.
• Reichardt, Jasia, ed. Cybernetic Serendipity: The Computer and the Arts. London: Studio International, 1968. Internet Archive, https://archive.org/details/cybernetic-serendipity.
• Taylor, Grant. "Routing Mondrian: The A. Michael Noll Experiment." NMC Media-N 8, no. 2 (Fall 2012). https://median.newmediacaucus.org/routing-mondrian-the-a-michael-noll-experiment/.
• Turing, Alan M. “Computing Machinery and Intelligence.” Mind 59, no. 236 (October 1950): 433–60.
• Usselmann, Rainer. “The Dilemma of Media Art: Cybernetic Serendipity at the ICA London.” Leonardo 36, no. 5 (October 2003): 389–96. https://doi.org/10.1162/002409403771024431.