Tzara vs Serner

Much of Tristan Tzara's fame in Paris was built upon the Dada manifesto he read on 23 July 1918 in the Meise Hall in Zurich ... The Parisian avant-gardists were consequently nervously awaiting his arrival two years later, and were, according to Andre Breton, extremely disappointed at the famous dadaist, while he openly enjoyed himself, made witty remarks, repeated stunts that had worked in the past, and exploited his personal charm as best he could, 'but in an increasingly narrow field'. According to Breton, the manifesto appeared to throw open the doors, but the French group soon discovered that these doors led into a corridor that turned around on itself. Part of the disappointment, according to Malcolm Green, may lie in Christian Schad's assertion that large portions of the manifesto were the work of Walter Serner rather than Tzara[.]

- Tom Sandqvist, Dada East

What is with these avant-garde poets? Both Tzara and Breton were ruthlessly ambitious creeps. Walter Serner, on the other hand, was a stand-up bloke, as this article, badly translated from the Dutch, makes clear:

Serner, dispossessed as he is, sees stronger then most how easy people can be made enthusiastic for a cause and are willing to die for it. The reason for him is clear: boredom. Most people really do not know what they are doing, their lifes are dull, and therefore they are easy victims of ideas like Nationalism and anti-semitism.

Against this alienation Serner puts a radical form of subjectivity. Where the point
is not what you are, but what you want. Because especially if you're not honest with your wishes and desires you'll be an easy target for swindlers. The result is that you'll be continuously hiding for yourself and only can go along with the game of corruption and hypocrisy that the world plays with you. So that you'll become an easy target of that same world. Therefore be always conscious of what you want, and don't let them put an identity on you, stay in motion, and disappear when you come to a point of inertion.

In short play with the world and do not let the world play with you.

Tin eyed?

We say someone has a tin ear if they are unable to appreciate the subtleties of music or speech. It's funny that we don't have an equivalent term for images.

When I was chatting to my new assessor yesterday, they said something astounding. I'd been explaining why I was planning to have a play around with abstraction and painting techniques. I pointed out that I'd been doing the watercolour and oil glazes technique for a couple of years now and said that I didn't want to just do the same thing over and over again until the end of my days.

My assessor told me that they considered all painting to be the same.

I was gobsmacked. I had no response to this. It's like saying everything played on a piano is the same. Of course, it was exaggeration for effect, but it's still a deeply stupid thing to say. And I'm meant to take this person seriously!?

A new semester

The new semester started this week. There are a couple of changes from last semester. I've got a new assessor, and instead of the sound art elective there's a paper on fine arts research methods. Oh, and we've got put on a group exhibition as well as our studio projects. That's in five weeks. I've no idea what we'll do for it.

I think the new assessor will be fun. I've had a bit of a chat and given them homework to read. There might be a new face, but some of the sentiments haven't changed. There was a line about how I'm heading towards a 'post-studio practice' but it's like I've got one foot stuck into the studio. An analogy with those electronic ankle things prisoners on home detention wear was made. I suggested instead a collar that blows your head off if you stray too far.

Unfortunately, I'm not sure I'll have much time for painting. I've started preparing a couple of larger-than-normal canvases to do some piss-around abstraction on. The idea with that is to just have a play around and take the opportunity to not have to come up with some finished, resolved work. Except I'm not sure I have that opportunity. There's a whole lot of assessment due in about five or six weeks, as well as a show that I'll need, well, finished, resolved work for. I think I'm going to have be quite ruthless.

For this research paper, we're to keep a journal where we critically reflect on our studio practice. That is, of course, what this blog is for, though this is probably a bit too all over the place to properly count.

The fucking Puddle!

The Puddle are playing with MarineVille on Friday at Aunt Daisy's Boathouse in Titahi Bay and on Saturday at Happy.

The last time I saw the Puddle – a couple of years ago at that blues bar pub on the corner of Cuba and Vivian Sts – they fucking rocked. George D Henderson did a solo set first that was blistering, and a pretty good warm up for the Puddle. They were busy in the studio then, and now they've got a couple of new albums out.

They've even got a video for a single off one of their new albums:

Useless motherfuckers

At the end of the last semester, I put a notice up in our studios asking whether anyone was interested in going on regular gallery visits this semester. The little bastards don't do it off their own bat, and the school doesn't organise them.

Quite a few people got back to me saying they were interested and what a good idea, etc. So I set up the first one for 11am yesterday. It was bitterly fucking cold, yes, but it wasn't blowing a gale or pissing down. How many people showed up?

One. One fucking person.

Too fucking passive indeed.

The only excuse I'm accepting as valid is the person who had a lumbar puncture instead.

Too passive

I've just got an email sent to everyone in my art school class: 'You are too passive. Speak out or fuck off.' When I answered, it got bounced cos whoever it was deleted their email account.

Well, they get points for trying.

Delia Derbyshire

The other day, a friend of mine gave me a copy of The Dreams, by Delia Derbyshire and Barry Bermange. It’s samples of people talking about their dreams, set to a background of electronic music. The dreams are collected into groups of common elements, such as running away, falling, landscape, underwater, and colour. It’s pretty amazing listening, especially when you consider that it’s from 1964.

I didn’t realise it, but Delia was also responsible for the Doctor Who theme. That was composed by Ron Grainer, but it was Delia who turned his written notes into the phenomenal piece of music we all know and love. Apparently, when she played it to Ron, he said ‘Did I really write this?’ She answered ‘Most of it.’ He tried to get her credited as co-composer, but didn’t succeed.

She constructed the track using oscillators and magnetic tape editing. This involved recording the individual notes one by one onto magnetic tape, cutting the tape with a razor blade to get individual notes on little pieces of tape a few centimetres long, and sticking all the pieces of tape back together one by one to make up the tune. Ye gods.

Delia studied maths and music at Cambridge. She tried to get a job after that at Decca Records but was told they did not hire women. She ended up at the BBC’s Radiophonic Workshop, and in 1966 she co-founded Unit Delta Plus, which was an organisation dedicated to creating and promoting electronic music. She’s pretty cool (and pretty sexy in that photo!). You can check out some of her stuff here.

Doctor Who

I've been watching some classic Doctor Who episodes recently – the E-space trilogy. This afternoon and evening's treat was State of decay. It was interrupted by Rose's kids wanting to watch Family guy. This was worthwhile though, as it included the memorable quote 'Since marijuana was legalised, crime is down, productivity is up, and the ratings for Doctor Who have gone through the roof.'

Oh, how we laughed.

Matt Hunt

Matt Hunt’s show at Peter McLeavey’s is on for another two weeks. If you haven’t been to see them yet, I strongly encourage you to do so. You can’t purchase one though. They’ve all sold already, which is not bad going during a recession.

Matt’s a friend of mine, so I’m not exactly unbiased. However, I’m pretty sure my opinion of his work wouldn’t be different if I didn’t know him. His paintings are both visually compelling (especially in the afternoon light through McLeavey’s windows) and conceptually coherent. And, boy, are they coherent.

Matt’s developed his own elaborate belief system over many years. It’s highly detailed and very consistent, which is more than can be said for some science fiction writers (and philosophers for that matter). Even though he’s quite sincere in his beliefs, he can still have fun with them, and there are some nice little jokes in there.

It’s not a belief system I share, but that doesn’t matter. We each respect each other’s point of view, and our arguments never get nasty (even when I'm drunk!). And, in a way, his is a common-sense nihilist position (paradoxical as that seems). He’s developed his own world view on his own terms, and when you get right down to it that’s what matters – living life and producing work on nobody else’s terms but your own.

He’s got extensive files documenting his system, and I reckon he should publish them as a book.

Twit

I've just joined Twitter. You can find me here.

I was prompted by a friend who suggested I follow Mark E Smith. 'Well fuck,' thought I, 'that could be a laugh.' He said it was just like reading Fall lyrics, and it is! Complete with '-uh's! Brilliant!