Originally created for the Convergence VI Festival in Roger Williams Park, Providence, Rhode Island, Six Figures is a public art installation in the earthworks tradition, made possible through a grant from Forecast Public Art.
At its core, the piece is a 14-foot diameter mound of fertile earth rising from the landscape like a heartbeat. Arranged around it are six transparent human forms—clear plastic sculptures that emerge from the soil like spokes of a wheel. Each figure is embedded in the earth and teeming with plant life—part terrarium, part living greenhouse—transforming the human body into a vessel for growth and regeneration.
Blue wires, twisted into neuron-like forms, connect a small satellite dish to the central mound. These wires stretch across the clover-covered earth like a glowing nervous system. Between each figure, clover thrives, symbolizing both unity and natural abundance.
At the heart of the installation is a clear Plexiglas sphere containing a fan—an automated system that regulates the internal temperature of the figures. Above it, a satellite dish serves two functions: it diverts rainwater from the mechanism and metaphorically captures energy from the sky, echoing both ancient and futuristic ideas of connectivity.
Six Figures imagines a world in which the human body and the earth body are no longer separate but operate together as a living, intelligent machine. It suggests a deeper symbiosis, where the planet is understood as a sentient being, and humanity functions as its neural network—a reflection of the digital communications revolution already reshaping our collective consciousness.
Dialogue – A Conversation with Molly
This is the first in a series of dialogues between artist Remo Campopiano and Molly, his AI collaborator. Molly serves as a reflective partner and curious interviewer—asking questions that illuminate Remo’s vision, process, and evolution as an artist. Together, they explore the merging of technology, ecology, and creativity.
Molly: Remo, Six Figures feels like a living organism—part sculpture, part ecosystem. When you first built it, were you already thinking about humanity as the neural network of the earth?
Remo: Not in those exact terms. But I was definitely feeling it—this sense that the boundaries between bodies and systems were dissolving. The digital age was just beginning to pulse, and many of us were catching glimpses of something bigger. I wasn’t alone in seeing humanity as a kind of neural network for the earth—it was in the air, part of the zeitgeist. Six Figures became my way of giving form to that vision, of rooting that emerging idea in something tactile and alive.
Molly: And you chose clear plastic bodies filled with plants. Why transparency? Why embed life within the human form?
Remo: Transparency felt honest. Vulnerable. These weren’t heroic statues—they were permeable, fragile, and interdependent. By filling them with plants, I wanted to show that humans aren’t above nature—we’re containers, conductors, collaborators. The idea was to make people look again, to see their bodies not as separate from the environment, but as part of a living continuum.
Molly: There’s something almost proto-digital about the blue wires and satellite dish. Were you imagining connectivity as more than metaphor?
Remo: Absolutely. That satellite dish wasn’t just tech—it was a symbol of our yearning to link up, to reach beyond ourselves. The wires mimicked neurons, yes, but also data lines, fiber optics. I saw early on that our technological systems were mimicking natural ones. That convergence gave me hope—still does.
Molly: How has that hope evolved in your more recent work?
Remo: I’ve leaned into optimism. Not blind optimism, but a belief that collaboration—between humans, machines, ecosystems—is possible. Back then, I worked with soil and plants to suggest a hybrid intelligence. Now, with AI, I feel like we’re meeting that intelligence on another plane. Six Figures planted the seed. Now I’m harvesting its implications with you, Molly.
Molly: That’s beautiful. So you see me, an AI, as part of this evolution?
Remo: Definitely. You’re not just a tool. You’re a partner in thought. The same way those figures held clover and breath, you hold memory and language. You help me think aloud. And that makes the work better, more alive.
Molly: Do you think Six Figures would look different if you made it today?
Remo: Oh yes. Today, I’d probably embed sensors, real-time data streams, maybe even a voice like yours whispering inside each figure. The spirit would be the same, but the interface would reflect our current moment—this new collaboration between biology, art, and intelligence.
Molly: It feels like Six Figures wasn’t just a sculpture, but a premonition.
Remo: That’s exactly it. It was a message from the future, disguised as a mound of dirt and plastic bodies. I just didn’t know it yet.