Love in the Telematic Embrace?

I found the article "Is There Love in the Telematic Embrace" by Roy Ascot to be incredibly philosophical. I am not quite sure how to relate the ideas/aesthetic philosophies to my work yet. I am interested in however the idea of the viewer as an active participant rather than a passive recipient in regard to viewing/experiencing a work of art. Ascot explains his theory of the passive viewer (and artist as creator) on page 336. He states " This is the model that has artist as sender and therefore originator of meaning, and the artist as creator and owner of images and ideas, the artist as controller of context and content. It is a model that requires, for its completion, the viewer as, at best, a skilled decoder or interpreter of the artist's "meaning" or, at worst, simply a passive receptacle of such meaning." As a response to this statement I feel somewhat conflicted. On one hand, the idea of viewer as passive "decoder" is depressing. On the other hand, the idea of artist as sole creator seems legitimate. It seems that interactive art calls for a re-negotiation of "power" in the art making process - a sort of socialist view of creating. I don't have a problem with art being interactive, but I also don't have an issue with the artist taking control of his/her project in order to put forth an autonomous creative voice. The article did prompt me however to think about how I might make my work more interactive. In my studio practice I seem to be concerned about the messages my viewer receives via the clues/hints, whatever, I place within my work. This is somewhat unsatisfying to me and I would like the viewer to experience the work in a more free-form way and not be burdened by the task of "decoding" the messages I feel at times obligated to encode. I feel my video piece accomplished this task primarily because it was more straight-forward and immersive for the viewer. I think scale may contribute to this as well. When something is large and overwhelming, one is enveloped by the sheer massiveness and contends with this by succumbing to the "experience." When something is small and precious, we as viewers have the tendency to "look in" on something with scrutiny, as if it were under a magnifying glass. Obviously one experiences a Vermeer painting far differently than they experience the ethereal color fields of a Rothko. This will be something I feel I will contend with, in a positive way, for the duration of my career as an artist.