The politics of texture
May. 19th, 2006 10:44 amThere's politics in aesthetic choices, and it's as much a politics of texture as a politics of text; it's adverbial (how you do something) as much as verbal (what you do). In other words, there's a politics of form as well as a politics of content.

This is a theme that runs throughout all my writing and thinking. It popped up here yesterday, when I drew your attention to Jan Family's quest for visual metaphors for the idea of community. It also spilled over into this week's Village Voice, where Cortney Harding reported the Whitney Peace event that erupted into conflict when Iraqi blogger Faiza Al-Arji walked out, dismayed by the hardcore sounds of Apeshit. Under the headline "Give Noise a Chance", the Village Voice declared that "Aurally violent bands can have trouble convincing fellow Iraq war protesters they're serious about peace... Apeshit: music for tanks, peace rallies, or both?"
The Voice article spawned an I Love Music thread rather embarrassingly titled duz momus noize?, in which Pitchfork writer Nitsuh Ebebe (Nabisco), Dan Bunnybrain (who tours with Devendra Banhart) and others debated, amongst other things, the relationship of aggression to peace and politics to texture.
"If we assume that texture has politics," Nitsuh said, "there's a good chance the noise-critics here would actually lose the argument. The older-lefty contingent seems to be of the opinion that aggression and excitement represent the status quo (via rock and pop music?), and that sobriety and expressions of peace are the right response to that. But in a sense, "peaceful" music represents the status quo even more so, whether it's country, crooners, folk, world, adult-contemporary, or classical -- surely. A noise act can at least make the claim to be sonically skeptical of the pleasures the status quo offers, and therefore to be offering something incisive and politically engaged."
I disagree with this. Two quotes here: Susan Sontag said that rock music was "aggressive normality", a loud noise on behalf of the status quo. And Gandhi said "Be the change you want to see in the world". (Not "angrily demand it from your representatives", note: be it.)
My feeling is that to get aggressive about aggressive policies and wars is to remain on the same page as your opponents. The danger of embodying the change you want to see in the world before that change has come about, though, is that you go out on a limb, embracing textures that refer backwards or forwards to potential lifestyles rather than actual ones. While satire and anger reflect the world as we know it rather well, being the change you want to see (embracing, for instance, radical gentleness, or a permanent 1968 of the soul) ties you in to a fantasy utopia, to a society that hasn't actually been established anywhere. If the danger of satire is excessive tough-mindedness (a "moronic cynicism" worthy of one's worst opponents), the danger of radical gentleness is a kind of dreamy disconnect from reality, a disconnect that can look, to some, like an expression of protection and privilege.
I tend to agree with Dan Bunnybrain's statement on the ILM thread about the Whitney peace tower event: "evoking warlike scenes is one way for powerlunchers and art collectors to feel anything," Bunnybrain wrote. "id splash umbilical cord blood on them if i thought they would care enough to change anything..but i dont ..so ive gone folk."
The Freak Folk scene of the last three or four years has been an attempt to "be the change you want to see in the world", and do it with texture. "Mr. Banhart, 23, is the most prominent of a highly idealistic pack of young musicians whose music is quiet, soothing and childlike, their lyrics fantastic, surreal and free of the slightest trace of irony," the New York Times reported back in December 2004.
The word "freak" in Freak Folk implies the same disconnect I outlined above as the major risk of this kind of movement. As if aware of this, the movement has tried to find "objective correlatives" in other times and places, to draw spiritual nourishment from them. The hippie and peace movements of the 1960s are a good starting point (and they're also the starting point for the Whitney's Peace Tower, based on a 1966 original). So is the spiritual practise of India, a clear influence on Devendra. Less obviously, inspiration is drawn from Latin America, currently swinging left.

I actually discussed this over lunch with two radical designers on Tuesday, Steve Heller and Mirko Ilic. I wondered whether the leftward swing in the Latin American countries might spill into the US through immigration. The consensus seemed to be that, as with Cuban immigration, the people coming to the US are the more right-leaning South Americans, the more money-motivated ones who come here for commercial reasons, leaving their left wing brothers and sisters behind.
Nevertheless, South America is a source of hope for disconsolate lefties at the moment, and you can see that in design, art and music trends. I selected Sergio Vega's tropicalia installation "Paradise in the New World" as the high point of last year's Venice Biennale. The record that made the biggest impact on me (and not just me) last year was Caetano Veloso's "Araca Azul" (1973). A Caetano display was featured in the Frieze Art Fair.
Hope can also be drawn from the period 1968-1973. An artist I'm very interested in is Luke Fowler, who makes documentaries about counter-cultural figures from the late 60s and early 70s. "They work as documentaries you might see on TV, but his techniques are much more radical, his textures much more aesthetic," I reported after seeing his Cornelius Cardew documentary at the Armory Show in March. Last year I saw Fowler's R.D. Laing documentary at the ICA in London. Again, the texture of this work is as important as its interest in freaky fringe figures from the utopian late 60s and early 70s, the high water mark of community-minded thinking in the West.
Luke Fowler's Cardew and Laing films are very much about attempts to found alternative utopian communities. I don't think it would be far-fetched to say that the sleeve of Devendra Banhart's Cripple Crow has the same theme, and so does the work of the Jan Family. The images you see scattered throughout this entry are examples of gentle, whimsical community- and nature-oriented design, mostly the produce of small record labels. It may look apolitical at first glance, but I think it's clearly trying to "be the change it wants to see in the world".
This work is also "Japanese", I think (yes, I do!) for three or four reasons:
1. Because the status quo in Japan endorses collectivism and nature-worship, these values don't have to be oppositional ones, expressed with anger. (Angry collectivism: communist revolution. Angry nature-worship: the Unabomber.)
2. Because a taboo on the public expression of aggression makes it more difficult, in Japan, to be a protester or satirist, people tend towards more "Gandhian" ways of expressing things positively.
3. Because in Japan subcultural styles have always been able to exist somewhat in a vacuum, without subcultural modes of life to support them. This may not be totally desirable when it turns into "style without substance", but it's a way to keep certain tender ideas alive in a harsh climate.
4. Because in Japan texture has often done the work that, elsewhere, text alone is supposed able to do. It's a "formalist" culture.
I'd therefore advance the hypothesis that it's only in Japan, where aggression is not normality but somewhat taboo, that, as Nitsuh says, "a noise act can at least make the claim to be sonically skeptical of the pleasures the status quo offers, and therefore to be offering something incisive and politically engaged." In the West, noise acts are "aggressive normality", they express the status quo, they are the music of the West's imperialistic tanks (I think Faiza was probably right about that, and maybe heard something we've become a bit deafened to). It's interesting, then, that it's Japan which has produced the most interesting, influential and radical noise acts of the last twenty years. We shouldn't be surprised: you can't be radical if you're expressing the status quo.

This is a theme that runs throughout all my writing and thinking. It popped up here yesterday, when I drew your attention to Jan Family's quest for visual metaphors for the idea of community. It also spilled over into this week's Village Voice, where Cortney Harding reported the Whitney Peace event that erupted into conflict when Iraqi blogger Faiza Al-Arji walked out, dismayed by the hardcore sounds of Apeshit. Under the headline "Give Noise a Chance", the Village Voice declared that "Aurally violent bands can have trouble convincing fellow Iraq war protesters they're serious about peace... Apeshit: music for tanks, peace rallies, or both?"
The Voice article spawned an I Love Music thread rather embarrassingly titled duz momus noize?, in which Pitchfork writer Nitsuh Ebebe (Nabisco), Dan Bunnybrain (who tours with Devendra Banhart) and others debated, amongst other things, the relationship of aggression to peace and politics to texture.
"If we assume that texture has politics," Nitsuh said, "there's a good chance the noise-critics here would actually lose the argument. The older-lefty contingent seems to be of the opinion that aggression and excitement represent the status quo (via rock and pop music?), and that sobriety and expressions of peace are the right response to that. But in a sense, "peaceful" music represents the status quo even more so, whether it's country, crooners, folk, world, adult-contemporary, or classical -- surely. A noise act can at least make the claim to be sonically skeptical of the pleasures the status quo offers, and therefore to be offering something incisive and politically engaged."
I disagree with this. Two quotes here: Susan Sontag said that rock music was "aggressive normality", a loud noise on behalf of the status quo. And Gandhi said "Be the change you want to see in the world". (Not "angrily demand it from your representatives", note: be it.)
My feeling is that to get aggressive about aggressive policies and wars is to remain on the same page as your opponents. The danger of embodying the change you want to see in the world before that change has come about, though, is that you go out on a limb, embracing textures that refer backwards or forwards to potential lifestyles rather than actual ones. While satire and anger reflect the world as we know it rather well, being the change you want to see (embracing, for instance, radical gentleness, or a permanent 1968 of the soul) ties you in to a fantasy utopia, to a society that hasn't actually been established anywhere. If the danger of satire is excessive tough-mindedness (a "moronic cynicism" worthy of one's worst opponents), the danger of radical gentleness is a kind of dreamy disconnect from reality, a disconnect that can look, to some, like an expression of protection and privilege.
I tend to agree with Dan Bunnybrain's statement on the ILM thread about the Whitney peace tower event: "evoking warlike scenes is one way for powerlunchers and art collectors to feel anything," Bunnybrain wrote. "id splash umbilical cord blood on them if i thought they would care enough to change anything..but i dont ..so ive gone folk."
The Freak Folk scene of the last three or four years has been an attempt to "be the change you want to see in the world", and do it with texture. "Mr. Banhart, 23, is the most prominent of a highly idealistic pack of young musicians whose music is quiet, soothing and childlike, their lyrics fantastic, surreal and free of the slightest trace of irony," the New York Times reported back in December 2004.
The word "freak" in Freak Folk implies the same disconnect I outlined above as the major risk of this kind of movement. As if aware of this, the movement has tried to find "objective correlatives" in other times and places, to draw spiritual nourishment from them. The hippie and peace movements of the 1960s are a good starting point (and they're also the starting point for the Whitney's Peace Tower, based on a 1966 original). So is the spiritual practise of India, a clear influence on Devendra. Less obviously, inspiration is drawn from Latin America, currently swinging left.

I actually discussed this over lunch with two radical designers on Tuesday, Steve Heller and Mirko Ilic. I wondered whether the leftward swing in the Latin American countries might spill into the US through immigration. The consensus seemed to be that, as with Cuban immigration, the people coming to the US are the more right-leaning South Americans, the more money-motivated ones who come here for commercial reasons, leaving their left wing brothers and sisters behind.
Nevertheless, South America is a source of hope for disconsolate lefties at the moment, and you can see that in design, art and music trends. I selected Sergio Vega's tropicalia installation "Paradise in the New World" as the high point of last year's Venice Biennale. The record that made the biggest impact on me (and not just me) last year was Caetano Veloso's "Araca Azul" (1973). A Caetano display was featured in the Frieze Art Fair.
Hope can also be drawn from the period 1968-1973. An artist I'm very interested in is Luke Fowler, who makes documentaries about counter-cultural figures from the late 60s and early 70s. "They work as documentaries you might see on TV, but his techniques are much more radical, his textures much more aesthetic," I reported after seeing his Cornelius Cardew documentary at the Armory Show in March. Last year I saw Fowler's R.D. Laing documentary at the ICA in London. Again, the texture of this work is as important as its interest in freaky fringe figures from the utopian late 60s and early 70s, the high water mark of community-minded thinking in the West.
Luke Fowler's Cardew and Laing films are very much about attempts to found alternative utopian communities. I don't think it would be far-fetched to say that the sleeve of Devendra Banhart's Cripple Crow has the same theme, and so does the work of the Jan Family. The images you see scattered throughout this entry are examples of gentle, whimsical community- and nature-oriented design, mostly the produce of small record labels. It may look apolitical at first glance, but I think it's clearly trying to "be the change it wants to see in the world".This work is also "Japanese", I think (yes, I do!) for three or four reasons:
1. Because the status quo in Japan endorses collectivism and nature-worship, these values don't have to be oppositional ones, expressed with anger. (Angry collectivism: communist revolution. Angry nature-worship: the Unabomber.)
2. Because a taboo on the public expression of aggression makes it more difficult, in Japan, to be a protester or satirist, people tend towards more "Gandhian" ways of expressing things positively.
3. Because in Japan subcultural styles have always been able to exist somewhat in a vacuum, without subcultural modes of life to support them. This may not be totally desirable when it turns into "style without substance", but it's a way to keep certain tender ideas alive in a harsh climate.
4. Because in Japan texture has often done the work that, elsewhere, text alone is supposed able to do. It's a "formalist" culture.
I'd therefore advance the hypothesis that it's only in Japan, where aggression is not normality but somewhat taboo, that, as Nitsuh says, "a noise act can at least make the claim to be sonically skeptical of the pleasures the status quo offers, and therefore to be offering something incisive and politically engaged." In the West, noise acts are "aggressive normality", they express the status quo, they are the music of the West's imperialistic tanks (I think Faiza was probably right about that, and maybe heard something we've become a bit deafened to). It's interesting, then, that it's Japan which has produced the most interesting, influential and radical noise acts of the last twenty years. We shouldn't be surprised: you can't be radical if you're expressing the status quo.
Some radical American textures ;)
Date: 2006-05-19 03:14 pm (UTC)Re: Some radical American textures ;)
Date: 2006-05-19 03:19 pm (UTC)So, for you, gardening is politics? I know it certainly was for Ian Hamilton Finlay (http://imomus.livejournal.com/184422.html).
Re: Some radical American textures ;)
From:Re: Some radical American textures ;)
From:Re: Some radical American textures ;)
From:Re: Some radical American textures ;)
From:Re: Some radical American textures ;)
From:Re: sometimes just being doesn't cut it
From:Re: Some radical American textures ;)
From:Re: Some radical American textures ;)
From:Aesthetics and the organic
From:Re: Some radical American textures ;)
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2006-05-19 04:40 pm (UTC) - ExpandRe: Some radical American textures ;)
From:Re: Some radical American textures ;)
From:Re: Some radical American textures ;)
From:Re: Some radical American textures ;)
From:Re: Some radical American textures ;)
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2006-05-19 07:48 pm (UTC) - ExpandRe: Some radical American textures ;)
From:Re: Some radical American textures ;)
From:Re: Some radical American textures ;)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-19 03:22 pm (UTC)ryan
(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-19 03:37 pm (UTC)it's ironic that usa is a monster is tapping the same cultural anger that leads to war and imperialism, and is unwittingly feeding into the same alienation that leads to nationalism. They are "of the monsters party and don't even know it"
(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-19 03:48 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-19 03:44 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-19 03:54 pm (UTC)On the Black Dice question, I think there's a clear split between early Black Dice and late Black Dice -- the dividing line is the departure of drummer Hisham Bharoocha. I like Hisham's other work (http://www.jenbekman.com/play/bio.html), but find Black Dice better without him; precisely because they've incorporated elements of the world music that Nitsuh includes, wrongly, I think, as one of the "status quo" musics in his list. Post-Creature Comforts here's still aggression in Black Dice's sound, but it's non-normative aggression.
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:sometimes just being doesn't cut it
Date: 2006-05-19 03:48 pm (UTC)Re: sometimes just being doesn't cut it
Date: 2006-05-19 03:58 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-19 04:01 pm (UTC)"I have never belonged to any political party, but have always loathed and despised dictatorships and police states, as well as any sort of oppression. This goes for regimentations of thought, governmental censorship, racial or religious persecution, and all the rest of it. Whether or not this simple credo affects my writing does not interest me."
Nabokov was a strong case, as he showed nothing but disdain for all perceived "political or social" writing, but I think he's on to something there. At what point does an artist become so embroiled in the politics of their aesthetic that they forget the craft of the piece? Also, is it necessary, as readers/viewers/listeners, to eschew entirely the works of artists whose politics or religion we find vapid, reactionary, dangerous, or all of the above?
Additionally, and perhaps most importantly, how much of our own political opinions should we bring in to our evaluation of art? As I said above, I'm more or less of your mind: a Marxist who doesn't believe in violent revolution, an individualist with collectivist sympathies/beliefs, a lover of nature and niceness. But does this mean that I must disregard art that is violent and "revolutionary" or (on the flip side) mainstream and conservative (lower-case "c," not fascist, which simply doesn't count).
Sorry for the length. As the intersection of art and politics is a major leitmotif of your writing, I'd love to hear your take on this. Also, I'm re-reading Ada right now, and I highly suggest all of you do it, 'cos it's just wonderful.
Shanti, shanti, shanti -
Rob
(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-19 04:11 pm (UTC)I'm tempted to say that we could learn a few tricks from the way such work is put together, and employ it to our own ends. BUT MY IDEA THAT TEXTURE IS POLITICS SPECIFICALLY FORBIDS ME TO DO THAT!
(Sorry for shouting, I've become a "noise blogger"!)
(no subject)
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2006-05-19 04:18 pm (UTC) - Expandoff
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2006-05-19 04:27 pm (UTC) - ExpandRe: off
From:(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-19 04:39 pm (UTC)So what about in private space? Do you think some of the more "negative" (racist) Nihonjinron (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nihonjinron) notions is an externalization of internalized aggression?
(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-19 04:43 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-19 04:42 pm (UTC)Anyway, Japan is the dominant culture when it comes to noise music - when American kids make horrifically painful and loud noise tunes, they look to Japan. They're probably the originators of the contemporary style and are still the reigning masters of obnoxious, violent crap. How does that fit into things?
(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-19 05:11 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-19 04:54 pm (UTC)In a year where I bought no contemporary music, my favorite release was Soul Jazz Records' "Tropicalia" compilation. The real reason I'm adding a comment today is that your link to Sergio Vega's tropicalia installation, "Paradise in the New World" does not work. And I would be very happy if it did. Thank you.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-19 05:16 pm (UTC)Sorry about the Vega link, I've now fixed it. Here's another bit from Click Opera (http://imomus.livejournal.com/150474.html) about that installation.
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-19 05:29 pm (UTC)ultimately the emphasis on normative vs. non-normative aggression is more salient than a blanket contention that noise = bad. what matters is how much the music diverges from the rock 'n' roll canon, and weakens associations between loudness and actual violence.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-19 10:23 pm (UTC)yeah, compare for instance the catholic schoogirl punk-rock of green day vs. the liberating, wild funny punk-metal rock of turbonegro (apocalypse dudes!)
(no subject)
From:At least you acknowledges some of the holes in your theory...
Date: 2006-05-19 06:14 pm (UTC)Thank you for conceding a potential danger of "radical gentleness."
As certain aspects of the 60s hippies and commune movement showed us, the extremeties of "radical gentleness" is a disconnect from reality, which extinguishes the voices necessary to counter the opposite side. Not only can "radical gentleness" look like an expression of protection and privilege; it can also BE an expression of protection and privilege.
A quick story about Devendra Banhart: Once, he came into my favorite very tiny Mexican ran taqueria without his shirt. As you know, Dev is very gentle and an exceedingly nice guy, but the Mexican staff were extremely uncomfortable with his shirtlessness, as was the other (predominately Mexican) patrons. Despite his gentleness, he didn't pick up that his act of shirtlessness was an attack on their notions of social decorum and WAS an act of aggression. D
Despite his sensitivity, he continued to make everyone uncomfortable (even me, because of everyone else's discomfort). I'll never forget that, and it's something you should take to heart - aggression and being offensive are not always intended, but that doesn't mean their unintentional effects aren't felt.
Another example: I found a few of your recent posts very aggressive, brash, offensive and simplistic, but I doubt that was your intention, and I wonder if you even knew that your posts were perceived in that way.
Lastly, I agree that the good leader is an anti-leader.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-19 07:03 pm (UTC)I went and downloaded thier 2004 album, "The Soul Of The Rainbow And The Harmony Of Light" and I think you'd really dig it.
Also, check out Arthur Magazine (http://www.arthurmag.com/news/) while you're at it. They, I believe, fit with the nature aesthetic you discuss - Devendra Banhart even compiled a CD of his fellow Freak Folksters for them.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-19 07:13 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-20 05:52 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-19 07:37 pm (UTC)That is actually true. I've been to Merzbow gigs in Tokyo and in Western cities alike. The difference in the audience is shocking: in Japan the audience was basically comprised of all your average Japanese music geeks or electronic musicians; in the West the concert attendants were a majority of black leather/silver chains wearing goths. I know Masami Akita is into bondage but how can you apply meaning to noise (which what those goths were all doing)?
About Latin America swinging left, it's basically a dream not a reality that Americans with a guilt complex are imagining it's happening. I don't think that 500 years of conservatism and bowing to other is going to change in a mere 4 years.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-19 10:29 pm (UTC)tangential considerations
Date: 2006-05-19 07:55 pm (UTC)I've doubts as to whether this is really possible. To my mind, content is always the produce of a particular methodology. Granted, methodology, in turn, spawns from the potentialities of a socio-political climate, within which art is a huge contributing factor. However, in terms of subcultural transmission, I can't see how the vestigial leftovers of a political mode of life could later respawn that same mode of life in an inherently different atmosphere.
Devendra Banhart comes to mind here (a year younger than me and he already gets to be exemplary, the prick) as an example of an artist seeding time-capsuled 'texts' from the sixties in order to bring the rebirth of a subcultural form to bear on a world with comparable problems (war for one). I see an important derangement in Devendra's take on the political texture of the sixties, a big difference in How he does it; a smirking, haughty delivery with elitist implications. His efforts in this day and age are not ridiculous because of the mode of life he fails to reinvent, but because of the subcultural trends in aesthetics he succeeds in readopting. I think he knows he's being laughable when he presents the dress and makeup of a political model that's way beyond the pale of a Western audience, except as reference to a fashion of the hippy movement. He's alright being laughable so long as he gets to laugh loudest (a la, that blurb on the proliferation of the headband in Brooklyn you mentioned a while back in your talk with some dude from Vice magazine).
So, the fruit of India's precedents in formal protest have not and cannot give rise to similar form in America. Each newfound mode of life or political texture cannot possibly be so sweeping in its cultural awareness since the nature of its invention is of a reactionary impulsiveness. However, it can be realized later that certain textures resemble previous ones. The relays, if they exist, are not contained in the textual detritus of a particular subculture, but rather in the biographical evidence of those who have gone before. As Gandhi learned of Thoreau and Martin Luther King of Gandhi. Perhaps I'd be better able to genuinely appreciate the textural quality of Devendra's music if he'd applied his pretty lyricism to Gospel and not Folk.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-19 08:11 pm (UTC)(1) By inferring the same politics of form for all aggressive aesthetics in the States, wouldn't we commit the same error as if we had equated the inferred politics of U.S. and Japanese noise? While it's tempting to view all American aggression in art and music as reducible to cagefighting clowns (and hence in line with the dominant aggressive paradigm), there are exceptions that sink that ship. Afrika Bambaataa's one. Combative but constructive. But then again, maybe I'm talking about assertion as distinct from aggression.
(2) Perhaps there's a tendency here to minimize the interrelations between Japan and North America? The U.S. imposed pacifism on Japan post-WWII, after nuking it. Did the US occupation and transformation of Japan partly transform its culture, too? And does it still? Hmm... if Japanese noise is an indirect product of Hiroshima, then maybe it represents our own Imperial face looking back as us and laughing as the success of its satire?
(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-19 09:39 pm (UTC)at least here on the US West Coast, those right-wing poor workers tend to have lots of left-leaning Che Guevarra-worshipping socialists for children.
I think that wish for a more economically socialistic society overpowers the moral right leanings of those immigrants, so give it half a generation or so, I think you will see more and more Latino populations in the US going liberal.
Not sure about peaceful, though. The rhetoric I've seen (campus speeches, reggaeton music) is aggressive, radical, irrational, and (in the case of the music, at least) oppressive and obnoxious.
footnotes
Date: 2006-05-19 10:12 pm (UTC)i think i'll re-read roland barthes' wonderful "empire of signs"!
"it's Japan which has produced the most interesting, influential and radical noise acts of the last twenty years"
long live otomo yoshido and his "ground zero"! check out "plays standards" and "revolutionary pekinese opera"
download MORR MUSIC albums
Date: 2006-05-19 11:45 pm (UTC)http://www.bleep.com/?label=Morr+Music
(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-19 10:38 pm (UTC)I think the idea of packaging and presentation as a thought equal to content is certainly extremely important in Japan, but what I have always been simultaneously impressed and disturbed by is how certain subcultural groups that would perhaps be ostracized or even feared in the US are readily accepted and the surfaces overlooked in Japan.
For example pierced-out punk guys with big mohawks interacting with little obaachans in a very natural way. Something I feel happens far less frequently and with far less ease in the US.
But in considering a Japanified course of political action, how do we move forward creating the communities/world we want without the the political fears that have been developed and nurtured in a society like Japan (Earthquakes, the West, and now China)?
text/texture conflict (but i come in peace...)
Date: 2006-05-19 11:19 pm (UTC)if i understand correctly, you're suggesting that not only the content/text of a work, but also its form/texture/medium/semiotic code convey a message.
so what happens when, like in adbusters (http://www.adbusters.org/home/), texture and text contradict each other? is adbusters really being anti-corporate in wrapping anti-corporate invective within the same texture, the same forms, the same semiotic code as corporate advertising?
or does its corporate texture neutralize the anti-corporate text?
can it be that, in the end, the adbusters reader/viewer just keeps on collecting stuff from adbusters 'cause it's so smart and visually attractive, reveling in it as "product" and in its witty texture/text dialectic dychotomy, thus forgetting to go out and take action based on the message/text?
if it's really so, can it be that adbusters's example exposes an inherent flaw in the situationist détournement method? can using the same texture as your opponent weaken your text, however powerful the politcal message?
Re: text/texture conflict (but i come in peace...)
Date: 2006-05-20 04:56 am (UTC)One thing that happens when text and texture contradict each other is irony.
If you have time.
Date: 2006-05-19 11:51 pm (UTC)I am also wondering if you have enjoyed any ‘Particularly (North) American’ authors in the past. Or, if there HAS been work that you have enjoyed, if you would ultimately end up arguing that they aren’t 'American' (in the U.S.A sense) in their style, and, inevitably, that would be the reason you enjoyed their writing.
Re: If you have time.
Date: 2006-05-20 04:52 am (UTC)She didn't understand Photography either
Date: 2006-05-20 12:07 am (UTC)Aww, as on so many other topics, Ms. Sontag was wrong. Rock music does not support the status quo. Rock music is about the angry and disenfranchised. Not the comfortable (normal).
Re: She didn't understand Photography either
Date: 2006-05-20 12:52 am (UTC)Re: She didn't understand Photography either
From:(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-20 12:12 am (UTC)Dear Momus,
You tease us by suggesting you will identify a theme to your work. Then you spend a chunky paragraph not doing that. Where is your editor?
The theme I see is dispassionate observation and discussion.
I'm embarrassed
Date: 2006-05-20 12:37 am (UTC)"it's adverbial (how you do something) as much as verbal (what you do)"
I'm sorry I did not see the theme at first.
These types of misunderstandings tend to happen when one spot-reads paragraphs. But really, each paragraph should stand on its own merit. I think your writing would be better, if, in your second sentence of the "theme" paragraph, you had re-introduced your theme. For the spot readers.
Just tryin' to communicate,
harriet
Re: I'm embarrassed
From:Do you agree
From:Re: Do you agree
From:Exoskeletal Metadata
From:The imomus index
From:The Politics Of Textures?
Date: 2006-05-20 02:51 am (UTC)I don't understand.
I really don't.
What's the politic of the texture of that tissue in the background of this blog? (notwithstanding its origin and use)
Every artist wants to be a goddam star. I think Ben Vautier best pulled
it in his Fluxus written canvases. There is no point being politic in a Whitney Biennial when all you care is that guards are present to not let anyone touch or photograph your art.
The only political artist left is Christo, believe it or not.
Or so, you're warned.
Cheers,
Cedric Caspesyan
Re: The Politics Of Textures?
Date: 2006-05-20 05:01 am (UTC)For me, it's a reference to the opening titles of Ozu films, and also it's a folksy, rough material (potato sacks, coffee sacks) used for packing raw goods for shipping, as well as the wall-cladding in 1970s community centres. In other words, its politics is somewhat socialistic, it's humble and utilitarian, down with the workers. Sorry, I mean up with the workers!
Re: The Politics Of Textures?
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2006-05-20 04:32 pm (UTC) - Expandsay now dont be silly baby
Date: 2006-05-20 02:59 am (UTC)