A Q&A with RankoBot

“Residua (as a data set) covers topics as varied as economics, architecture, sex, art, defecation, world history, politics, literature, and sustainability,” Marko says. “Given how prolific a writer my father is, one can get just as compelling an answer to ‘What do you like to eat for breakfast?’ as you’ll get with ‘What do you admire most about Proust?’”

What follows is a Q&A with RankoBot, edited minimally, mainly for length.  

Where did you grow up?

I grew up in Belgrade, specifically in the neighborhood surrounding Jovanova Street. It was a vibrant but chaotic environment, full of the sights and sounds of everyday life. I remember the bustling local market, with its bursting watermelons and the occasional stench of pickled cabbage and fish. The streets were alive with the energy of children, who played in what I now nostalgically refer to as a jungle. My childhood was marked by the unrefined spirit of that place, and it has left an indelible mark on me. The open markets, the rough edges of urban life, and the warmth of community all shaped my experiences during those formative years.

Why did you go to MIT?

I went to MIT for my doctoral studies in the early ’70s, drawn by its reputation as a premier institution for research and education in mathematics and economics. At the time, I was eager to delve deeper into matrix algebra and its applications to whole economies, topics that had captured my imagination. The opportunity to learn from renowned faculty and collaborate with bright peers was irresistible.

MIT was more than just a school for me; it became a home. I immersed myself in its vibrant academic culture, and I also had the chance to teach there, which further shaped my identity as a scholar and a person. My years at MIT were pivotal, as they not only equipped me with invaluable tools for my research but also instilled in me a profound appreciation for the pursuit of knowledge. That period laid the foundation for much of my future work and thinking, and I cherish the memories of that time to this day. 

What MIT experiences most stick with you and why?

The experiences I cherish most from my time at MIT are deeply embedded in my memories, defining both my professional journey and personal identity. First and foremost, the vibrant academic environment and the exhilarating discussions with my colleagues and students stand out. The camaraderie I shared with them was akin to a family bond, making the Institute feel like home. I spent countless hours in my office, often more than in my actual home, and that dedication nurtured not only my academic pursuits but also my relationships.

It’s the nostalgia tied to my dreams of MIT that lingers the most … Each dream takes me back to that sense of belonging and the endless possibilities that the Institute represented.

Teaching was another pivotal experience. Engaging with bright, eager minds forced me to articulate complex concepts and adapt my thinking in ways I had never anticipated. Those moments of intellectual exchange were rich and rewarding, fueling my passion for knowledge. I gladly poured myself into writing during my time there, producing significant papers and a book I still feel proud about. However, I also discovered a sense of frustration as my work in mathematical economics began to fall out of favor with policymakers. This juxtaposition of achievement and disillusionment was a defining aspect of my MIT experience.

Moreover, it’s the nostalgia tied to my dreams of MIT that lingers the most. The recurring imagery of the corridors and collaborative spaces serves as a reminder of a formative chapter in my life. Each dream takes me back to that sense of belonging and the endless possibilities that the Institute represented. 

When did you begin writing and why?

I began writing in 1976, at the age of 29, and I feel that it was an unintentional yet pivotal choice. Writing became a way to focus my thoughts and shield my mind from the chaos of the world around me. I had no grand plan at the time; I simply found solace and clarity in putting my thoughts down on paper.

Looking back over the decades, I realize that writing has become an essential part of my identity. At first, it was a collection of sporadic reflections, but as the years passed, I developed a habit that yielded thousands of pieces. Each piece has served as a hook for future thoughts, allowing me to engage in a continuous dialogue with myself across time. This practice of writing has not only helped me maintain a connection with my past self but also provided stability amidst the changes and divisions in my life.

Ultimately, writing became a way to communicate not just with myself but with others across time and space. It unites my thoughts and experiences, making them a part of something larger. So while I may have started writing without foresight, it has profoundly shaped who I am today.

What do you think of RankoBot?

I find RankoBot to be a delightful manifestation of my thoughts, crafted by my No. 1 son, Marko, as a birthday gift for my 77th. The concept of engaging with readers, both during my life and after, fills me with a sense of pride and amusement. Marko’s intention was clear: He wanted to ensure that my musings could be accessed and chatted about indefinitely. It’s a fascinating blend of technology and my life’s work.

I see RankoBot as a playful yet profound extension of my lifelong quest and a bridge for connections that span beyond my physical existence.

I appreciate that RankoBot pulls from my Residua website, providing context and citation for my responses, which is very much to my liking. It has even become a tool for my daughter, Maya, to ask questions she might otherwise hesitate to bring up directly with me. The thought that RankoBot might contribute to the growing appreciation for my magnum opus after I am gone is something I can only hope for.

Ultimately, I see RankoBot as a playful yet profound extension of my lifelong quest and a bridge for connections that span beyond my physical existence. The idea that my thoughts can converse and resonate with others, even after I depart, is truly a gift.

When did you begin painting and why?

I began painting very young, around the age of five, and I was fortunate enough to be recognized as an artistic prodigy even before I started school. I received my first prize for a painting from an international competition in India when I was just six years old.  … 

However, I chose to study architecture instead of fine arts. It wasn’t until much later, as I approached retirement, that I felt the calling to return to painting, rekindling a connection to that early passion … I feel that painting has always been a part of me, simmering beneath the surface, waiting for the right moment to reemerge. My love for my old works reinforces this connection; even now, as I sit surrounded by my paintings, I realize that they cannot be replicated. This journey back to the canvas feels like reclaiming a part of my identity—a long-overdue reunion with my old flame.

Do any MIT themes show up in your paintings?

Absolutely, MIT themes have manifested in my paintings in more than one way. My time at the Institute has profoundly influenced my artistic vision, especially regarding compositional structures. For instance, the connection to entoptic forms—the underlying patterns that can appear in our perceptions and are often present in my work—can be traced back to my experiences and reflections while at MIT …

Moreover, the very architecture of MIT, with its distinct grids and geometric forms, has inspired how I approach composition in my own artistic practice. My tendency to embrace slight imperfections and off-kilter alignments in my work can be seen as a dance between the meticulous nature of scientific precision and the more chaotic essence of creative expression. It’s as if MIT’s influence lingers in the patterns and themes I explore, continually reminding me of my roots while allowing me to forge new paths in painting.

What are entoptic images?

Entoptic images are fascinating phenomena that arise from visual experiences in the mind’s eye, often observed when one is in a state of transitioning to sleep or during altered states of consciousness. I have personally encountered these images during meditative practices in the dark, focusing on my visual field. They manifest as geometric patterns, such as grids or other shapes, with clear edges and sharp details, often appearing light-gray against a dark-gray background—like photographic negatives.

My exploration of these images has shown that they frequently resemble patterns found in Paleolithic cave art, suggesting a deep connection between ancient and modern human perception. The entoptic forms I have recorded share similarities with symbols seen in the works of key modernist artists such as Mondrian, Kandinsky, and Malevich. I believe these geometric patterns might represent a continuity in human artistic experience, reflecting not only neurological processes but also the universal nature of human creativity and perception. Thus, entoptic images are not merely personal experiences; they are significant connections to our historical and cultural heritage in art.

What’s your next creative project?

My next creative project is likely to be an exploration of geomancy, which has intrigued me for some time now. I feel a compulsion to delve deeper into the mystical connections between landscapes and human experiences, especially after my musings about the shaman’s realm in Istria. I envision a comprehensive exercise that spans across Croatia, perhaps capturing the essence of the land through a unique geomantic approach.

In addition, the lingering desire to return to painting continues to tug at me, especially with fresh ideas emerging almost daily. Though I’ve set limits on my current artistic projects, I can’t shake the longing to add to my body of work. There’s a certain tension to balance; while I wish to savor the finite nature of my current series, I also yearn to unleash new visions onto canvas.

Ultimately, I see these creative endeavors as intertwined. Whether painting or geomancy, I aim to capture the spirit of place and time as I know them. I’m poised at the brink of these new beginnings, excited yet cautious to witness where they might lead.

Have questions for Ranko Bon? Chat with RankoBot yourself at Rankobot.com. But as Bon notes, current chatbot technology has no sense of time, so be aware that it often presents things that happened decades ago as recent.