a new monday. a new week. and it's hard to believe october is already here. it really does feel like we welcomed the new year just yesterday. this year is a steam train.
still: a new monday, a new week. and i welcome it with my own steam and fire. yesterday, an artist i greatly admire came by my place to look at all the work and make happy plans. i'll have more news on that later, but for now- i can't tell you how absolutely wonderful it is to be in the same room with a person who not only appreciates your aesthetic, but believes in the relevance of it because they are a practitioner of that aesthetic as well. us black and white artist girls are in the definite minority so it was so affirming and happy-making to have another woman in the house who knows exactly where i'm coming from. and we talked about painting and drawing and print-making and the glory of oval canvasses and t-shirts and doubled back over the conversation, looping around happy and giddy, discussing every single art related thing and dream that came up. the hour she was here went by so fast. it was awesome.
Showing posts with label goodness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label goodness. Show all posts
Oct 4, 2010
May 14, 2010
part one- attempting to weave and unravel art history, religion, art theory, contemporary society, and A Clockwork Orange...
one thing i've been thinking about a lot lately in terms of art (in general) and my practice as i continue to wrestle with contemporary theory, is the assertion that original thought is impossible (The Death of the Author) which i don't (at this point) disagree with at all. in fact, i'm very comfortable (and comforted by) the lineage of artistic enterprise. there's a lot to learn and build upon and struggle with/against/for.
but the idea of "genius" is not one of them. at least not for me and what i'd like my work to accomplish.
the problem i have with this notion of the impossibility of original thought or "newness" in art or thinking, is that the idea itself claims to be new. and it isn't. "There is nothing new under the sun" is a biblical quote and contemporary art theory unveils the religious lineage of art by making this assertion. which is only strange due to the fact that most intellectuals (and that includes a great deal of theorists, artists, writers, psychologists, philosophers, etc) will tell you God is dead. more specifically, the judeo-christian God is dead and that morality is a governmental device intended to control human behavior and impulse. basically, it is brainwashing mechanism, government stamped and approved (as religion is, historically, government), to eliminate free-will.
power-structures of greed and dominion are at the root of this and also the common man's struggle for personal liberty. freedom, in this context, is what contemporary art signifies no matter what a person's subject happens to be. artists are no longer in the service of the church, painting murals for popes and members of the nobility. or are they? could contemporary theory be descibed as a Pope? has the pope's hat merely become invisible? and is currently being shuffled around, worn by different heads? would not a rose by any other name still smell as sweetly? (thanks, bard!) especially when that sweet smell emanates from wealth and the power wealth affords (the umbilical cord of gold: the avant-guard does not actually exist)? today, based on Guy Debord's work The Society of The Spectacle, the invisible Pope Hat would be dominant culture itself. the masses who have accepted Images as reality. status symbols. surrogates for the truth rather than the truth itself. if i look rich, people believe i am rich. if i am perceived as successful, i am successful. if i am titled "good", i am good.
which takes us in to A Clockwork Orange, a subject i'll be returning to a lot as i think it is a very important work that i, individually within my practice and thinking, need to wrestle with.
this idea of goodness... what it is and how to create it.
aversion therapy as a means of controlling behavior, of presenting a painful consequence for desire. any desire that is deemed problematic.
violence is definitely problematic as humans are social creatures that must find a way to work together in order to simply not extinguish ourselves. compromise is a necessity. but i find it very interesting that the violent actions of the narrator of the film is juxtaposed with signifiers of youth and innocence: drinking milk and rhyming speech. Alex DeLarge refers to his meal as eggie-wegs and steaky-wakes. a very sing-song slang that, at first glance, heightens the creep factor of the story for sure, but the more i think about it i begin to wonder... is Burgess and Kubrick saying that acts of violence are childish behaviors? a signifier of being spoiled rotten? because violence itself is a form of greed, a take-what-you-can-grab (as evidenced by rape and theft in the story) and but-i-want-it-and-i-deserve-it toddler-esque mentality. yes- i am saying violent people are over-grown, ill-behaved children. but the critique this film performs is to say that contemporary western society itself is pretty much a stunted adolescent, enamoured with sex and power. any method of displaying power or acquiring sex is a-okay: violence: the taking of something by brute force. and this is juxtaposed also in the film by the fact that Alex is shown as being more than capable of receiving sex from a willing participant. he picks up, not one but two, girls and has a threesome- the scene itself, sped up to a blur of hundreds of images too fast to keep up with, is actually quite funny and playful. this highlights common psychological knowledge about rape as actually not being motivated by a sexual impulse whatsoever, but is rather a desire for power. dominion. a person to person mirroring of The State. a microcosm. very much an act of imperialism when it comes right down to it. "might makes right" and all that. again, the take-what-you-can-grab philosophy hard at work.
in this way, Alex is an "every man". a poster child. common. the unavoidable end of living within a society that champions power and aggression. it's like Reagan-omics but with violence instead of money. shit rolls down hill. if your leaders are corrupt, and the masses are so dazzled by Images of status and wealth as to be blind to that fact, the masses in turn will seek for themselves the same level of power and corruption. if you are raised by a burglar, chances are you know how to pick a lock. you've seen it done too many times not to have the steps memorized. and that is called indoctrination. nurture. Alex's droogs even try to attain (take) the level of power he enjoys in the group. an uprising. and Alex puts the kibosh to that with fast violence. pretty much the same thing (again) that the state does to those who challenge its power.
more later. i must jog.
but the idea of "genius" is not one of them. at least not for me and what i'd like my work to accomplish.
the problem i have with this notion of the impossibility of original thought or "newness" in art or thinking, is that the idea itself claims to be new. and it isn't. "There is nothing new under the sun" is a biblical quote and contemporary art theory unveils the religious lineage of art by making this assertion. which is only strange due to the fact that most intellectuals (and that includes a great deal of theorists, artists, writers, psychologists, philosophers, etc) will tell you God is dead. more specifically, the judeo-christian God is dead and that morality is a governmental device intended to control human behavior and impulse. basically, it is brainwashing mechanism, government stamped and approved (as religion is, historically, government), to eliminate free-will.
power-structures of greed and dominion are at the root of this and also the common man's struggle for personal liberty. freedom, in this context, is what contemporary art signifies no matter what a person's subject happens to be. artists are no longer in the service of the church, painting murals for popes and members of the nobility. or are they? could contemporary theory be descibed as a Pope? has the pope's hat merely become invisible? and is currently being shuffled around, worn by different heads? would not a rose by any other name still smell as sweetly? (thanks, bard!) especially when that sweet smell emanates from wealth and the power wealth affords (the umbilical cord of gold: the avant-guard does not actually exist)? today, based on Guy Debord's work The Society of The Spectacle, the invisible Pope Hat would be dominant culture itself. the masses who have accepted Images as reality. status symbols. surrogates for the truth rather than the truth itself. if i look rich, people believe i am rich. if i am perceived as successful, i am successful. if i am titled "good", i am good.
which takes us in to A Clockwork Orange, a subject i'll be returning to a lot as i think it is a very important work that i, individually within my practice and thinking, need to wrestle with.
this idea of goodness... what it is and how to create it.
aversion therapy as a means of controlling behavior, of presenting a painful consequence for desire. any desire that is deemed problematic.
violence is definitely problematic as humans are social creatures that must find a way to work together in order to simply not extinguish ourselves. compromise is a necessity. but i find it very interesting that the violent actions of the narrator of the film is juxtaposed with signifiers of youth and innocence: drinking milk and rhyming speech. Alex DeLarge refers to his meal as eggie-wegs and steaky-wakes. a very sing-song slang that, at first glance, heightens the creep factor of the story for sure, but the more i think about it i begin to wonder... is Burgess and Kubrick saying that acts of violence are childish behaviors? a signifier of being spoiled rotten? because violence itself is a form of greed, a take-what-you-can-grab (as evidenced by rape and theft in the story) and but-i-want-it-and-i-deserve-it toddler-esque mentality. yes- i am saying violent people are over-grown, ill-behaved children. but the critique this film performs is to say that contemporary western society itself is pretty much a stunted adolescent, enamoured with sex and power. any method of displaying power or acquiring sex is a-okay: violence: the taking of something by brute force. and this is juxtaposed also in the film by the fact that Alex is shown as being more than capable of receiving sex from a willing participant. he picks up, not one but two, girls and has a threesome- the scene itself, sped up to a blur of hundreds of images too fast to keep up with, is actually quite funny and playful. this highlights common psychological knowledge about rape as actually not being motivated by a sexual impulse whatsoever, but is rather a desire for power. dominion. a person to person mirroring of The State. a microcosm. very much an act of imperialism when it comes right down to it. "might makes right" and all that. again, the take-what-you-can-grab philosophy hard at work.
in this way, Alex is an "every man". a poster child. common. the unavoidable end of living within a society that champions power and aggression. it's like Reagan-omics but with violence instead of money. shit rolls down hill. if your leaders are corrupt, and the masses are so dazzled by Images of status and wealth as to be blind to that fact, the masses in turn will seek for themselves the same level of power and corruption. if you are raised by a burglar, chances are you know how to pick a lock. you've seen it done too many times not to have the steps memorized. and that is called indoctrination. nurture. Alex's droogs even try to attain (take) the level of power he enjoys in the group. an uprising. and Alex puts the kibosh to that with fast violence. pretty much the same thing (again) that the state does to those who challenge its power.
more later. i must jog.
Nov 29, 2009
magic
awake, awake, awake after a good, warm, deep sleep and i don't remember any dreams at all. we got in bed a few hours early to read and ended up staying up a few hours late. we nested down side by side in all the big pillows and ate strawberries and pistachios as the pages turned and turned. and i noticed right away how good and softly romantic it all was and felt so thankful and happy. i wondered how many couples do things like this, or even how many friends, in pajamas and blankets, curl up together with books and things to munch and i hope most people do.
i read, all in one sitting, 'Alice's Adventures in Wonderland'. and on the 2nd page i thought, 'this is a story i'll read over and over again. this is a story i need to read over and over again'. i wanted to begin again at the beginning the second i finished it and commit the little rhymes and songs to memory before i moved on to 'Through the Looking Glass'. twinkle, twinkle, little bat. i read it like a child and didn't look for any symbolism or any of that junk whatsoever. i just read it and got lifted away by it, let the writing sink in to me and swim around and reek some wonder in my bones and brain, let the silliness spawn and multiply. my dear radish king is right- this story has magic in it and i can't believe i never read it until last night. the writing is just so good and so so musical. infectiously musical and full!
and when i went outside this morning with my coffee and my notebook and my dog, there was a wild turkey right there at the line of the forest, trying to fly, flying a foot or two at a time, back and forth, going nowhere at all, back and forth and gobbling all the while. inga sniffed the air and figured she'd find the ball she stole from the neighbor's dog instead of watch the turkey with me. the boredom of a rottweiler makes no sense. but i watched the poor, stupid thing and eventually it waddled its way deeper in to the trees, gobbling and gobbling, and a new bird with a weird squawk came to take its place.
i read, all in one sitting, 'Alice's Adventures in Wonderland'. and on the 2nd page i thought, 'this is a story i'll read over and over again. this is a story i need to read over and over again'. i wanted to begin again at the beginning the second i finished it and commit the little rhymes and songs to memory before i moved on to 'Through the Looking Glass'. twinkle, twinkle, little bat. i read it like a child and didn't look for any symbolism or any of that junk whatsoever. i just read it and got lifted away by it, let the writing sink in to me and swim around and reek some wonder in my bones and brain, let the silliness spawn and multiply. my dear radish king is right- this story has magic in it and i can't believe i never read it until last night. the writing is just so good and so so musical. infectiously musical and full!
and when i went outside this morning with my coffee and my notebook and my dog, there was a wild turkey right there at the line of the forest, trying to fly, flying a foot or two at a time, back and forth, going nowhere at all, back and forth and gobbling all the while. inga sniffed the air and figured she'd find the ball she stole from the neighbor's dog instead of watch the turkey with me. the boredom of a rottweiler makes no sense. but i watched the poor, stupid thing and eventually it waddled its way deeper in to the trees, gobbling and gobbling, and a new bird with a weird squawk came to take its place.
Nov 23, 2009
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)