Notes mid July
"...skipping backward only 200 years, and
much closer to our time, another historical moment celebrated
the virtual to produce the first elaborate virtual environments
– often in the form of the interior decoration of churches.
This indulgence in trompe-l’œil contrasted with the disloca-
tion and wars of eighteenth-century Europe, the first state
powers asserting a harmonious, ecstatic world, in part as an
expression of their power. These simulations were made to
appear to defy gravity.
From The Virtual by Rob Shields
The heady lure of these mystical works is based on their elaborate continuities of human and fictive space. . . . They pair techniques involving the creation of a dreamscape, and the provision of [human] figures for identification that call the viewer to enter fictive space, changing with their movements, inviting their co-authorship. They are fundamentally navigable... ‘spaces of persuasion’.
the history of electronic communication is less the evolution of technical efficiencies in communication than a series of arenas for negotiating issues crucial to the conduct of social life; among them, who is inside and outside, who may speak, who may not, and who has authority and may be believed.
The pyschological, museum and archeological metaphors by which the past is conceived.... tend to transform the temporal into the spatial and are intensely visual. Layers are excavated, veils lifted, screens removed. As such the recall of socially and effectively charged events involve a social organisation of a present space (struc- tured encounters with a site, even tours or processions), with specified stopping-places and actions (ablutions, obsequities, gestures and readings) and time (seasonal ceremonies), as well as an historical space and time (Kirmayer 1989). Memory is reconstructed anew each time through secular rituals of for example the systematic, often guided, tour in which the site is ‘framed’ by discourse. The position of the viewer may be left in question or explicitly positioned, but there is always a space, a distance, between the spectator and her memory.
From The Virtual by Rob Shields
fassbinder and bataille
G. Bataille (from eroticism, chapter -de Sade and normal man )
… The extremes are called civilization and
barbarism- or savagery. But the use of these words is misleading, for they
imply that there are barbarians on the one hand and civilized men on the other.
The distinction is that civilized men speak and barbarians are silent, and the
man who speaks is always the civilized man. To put it more precisely, since
language is by definition the expression of civilized man, violence is silent.
Many consequences result from that bias of language. Not only does ‘civilized’
usually mean ‘us’, and barbarous ‘them’, but also civilization and language
grew as though violence was something outside, foreign not only to civilization
but also to man, man being in the same thing as language. Yet observation shows
that the same people are alternately barbarous and civilized in their
attitudes. All savages speak and by speaking they reveal their solidarity with
decency and kindness that are the root of civilization. Conversely all
civilized men who rate themselves as among the most highly civilized of our
age. If language is to be extricated from the impasse, we must declare that
violence belong to humanity as a whole and as speechless, and that thus
humanity as a whole lies by omission and language itself is founded upon this
lie.
Violence
is silent and de Sade’s use of language is contradiction in terms
Common language will not express violence. It
treats it as a guilty and importunate thing and disallows it by denying it any
function or any excuse. If violence does occur, and occur it will, it is explained
by a mistake somewhere, just as men of backwards civilizations think that death
can only happen if someone makes it by magic or otherwise. Violence in advanced
societies and death in backwards ones are not just given, like a storm or
flood; they can only be the result of something going wrong.
But silence cannot do away with things that
language cannot state. Violence is as stubbornly there just as much as death,
and if language cheats to conceal universal annihilation, the placid work of
time, language alone suffers, language is the poorer, not time and not
violence.
Useless and dangerous violence cannot be
abolishes by irrational refusals to have any truck with it, any more that the
irrational refusals to treat with death can eliminate that. but the expression
of violence comes up against the double opposition of reason which denies it
and of violence itself which clings to a silent contempt for the words used
about it.
i had a scene in my head- you read the foucalt scene and i will have a huge piece of meat on the flour and i will cut it in pieces rhythmically. i would love to have a hummer. may be this is too literally , but may be other-way around by being literally and doing it for real it can evoke different thoughts. the pleasure of violence and breaking of taboo. it is also very sexual.
i had a scene in my head- you read the foucalt scene and i will have a huge piece of meat on the flour and i will cut it in pieces rhythmically. i would love to have a hummer. may be this is too literally , but may be other-way around by being literally and doing it for real it can evoke different thoughts. the pleasure of violence and breaking of taboo. it is also very sexual.
Notes from last conversation
aggression
spokes in a wheel
subtle
an album
story telling
and performative
foucault thing
no one development
rather eclectic
how much you can take
how much you don’t get bored
feel sorry
becomes statistic
whole peice speaking of viollence things
but in very documentative thing
how long can it touch you
violent stories
issues of compression
like a list of things
things we discussed
soft violence
maybe we can find no more concrete examples
not obvious things
aggressive behaviour towards an indvidual
the super power
the law the queen the god
the exception
Carl Schmitt
that she didn’t do as expected as he wanted then he has the extinguish and destroy
has to do radical evil
carmen is not faulted
gypsies
how to be critical without taking victim position
be more productive in conflicts
tries to understand the gypsies
try out of understanding beyond the conflict
this exclusion -- when you feel your values are violated
carmen idea
shot reaction shot
collecting more stories
combine foucault story with carmen
re-enactment
august 30th
more stories
carmen stories
bodylesss body
addresss me
transparancy as the motivator of a bodyless body
use parts of the blog
beginning of august 1
we meet again
and research about
spokes in a wheel
subtle
an album
story telling
and performative
foucault thing
no one development
rather eclectic
how much you can take
how much you don’t get bored
feel sorry
becomes statistic
whole peice speaking of viollence things
but in very documentative thing
how long can it touch you
violent stories
issues of compression
like a list of things
things we discussed
soft violence
maybe we can find no more concrete examples
not obvious things
aggressive behaviour towards an indvidual
the super power
the law the queen the god
the exception
Carl Schmitt
that she didn’t do as expected as he wanted then he has the extinguish and destroy
has to do radical evil
carmen is not faulted
gypsies
how to be critical without taking victim position
be more productive in conflicts
tries to understand the gypsies
try out of understanding beyond the conflict
this exclusion -- when you feel your values are violated
carmen idea
shot reaction shot
collecting more stories
combine foucault story with carmen
re-enactment
august 30th
more stories
carmen stories
bodylesss body
addresss me
transparancy as the motivator of a bodyless body
use parts of the blog
beginning of august 1
we meet again
and research about
europian the same bullshit
in germany tuskish problem is actual, i saw a theater piece from 'a free scene', made by turkish director, where he also like in this movie puts himself in a 'good german shiller educative position' towards turkish authoritarian values. in this movie the same -the director is very famous-fatih akin (turkish 2 immigrant generation in germany) propagandizing christian values, how good germans are in their hearts in the same time showing how christian are our german turkish imigrants, we have raised them. this is again 'positive, passive, hidden aggression'.
i think today we can not talk from national positions, you are american and i am georgian, but rather from political positions
i think today we can not talk from national positions, you are american and i am georgian, but rather from political positions
stalin is everywhere :)
this is of course very stupid Hollywood movie, but if you analyze it, as stalin propaganda movies, then it's quite interesting. the image of the enemy, the 'mother law' as a black women. the old enemy 'russia' is a 'new friend', but europe represented in the image of 'superficial spanish sexy guy, that wants only pleasure'. how the movie is based on christian values and how it shows the game of todays politics. the real enemy is not russia anymore, but europe :), because they are still irresponsible, too free with sex, 'too leftist hobbish', too week, not real heroes. :) they still have some kind of leftovers of the 'social state'-atheists, whereas russia is now openly a brother of US-they are also christian-putin and the dream of america - to concur the russia :)) Russians dream the same. and how it all looks like innocent sexy comedy, but for masses it gives a clear massage. the same with stalin movies-sentimental, innocent-propaganding love, based on authority and christian values, funny entertainment and hero drama. how it manipulates love and educates immigrants.
i guess being an immigrant i am more sensitive to this kind of fucking bullshit.
i guess being an immigrant i am more sensitive to this kind of fucking bullshit.
daniil harms
There Once Was a Man...
There once was a man whose name was Kuznetsov. He left his house to go
to a shop to buy some carpenter's glue so as to stick a stool.
When Kuznetsov was walking past an unfinished house, a brick fell off
the top and hit Kuznetsov on the head.
Kuznetsov fell, but straight away jumped to his feet and felt over his
head. On Kuznetsov's head a huge lump had come up.
Kuznetsov gave the lump a rub and said: -- I, citizen Kuznetsov, left
the house to go to the shop to... to... to... Oh, what on earth's happened?
I've forgotten why I was going to the shop!
At this point a second brick fell off the roof and again Kuznetsov was
struck on the head.
-- Akh! -- cried Kuznetsov, clutching at his head and feeling a second
lump on his head.
-- A likely story! -- said Kuznetsov. -- I, citizen Kuznetsov, left the
house to go to... to go to... to go to... where was I going!
Then a third brick fell from the top on to Kuznetsov's head. And on
Kuznetsov's head a third lump came up. -- Oh heck! -- yelled out Kuznetsov,
snatching at his head. -- I, citizen Kuznetsov, left the... left the... Left
the cellar? No. Left the boozer? Nol Where did I leave?
A fourth brick fell from the roof, hit Kuznetsov on the back of the
head and a fourth lump came up on Kuznetsov.
-- Well, now then! -- said Kuznetsov, scratching the back of his head.
-- I... I... I... Who am I ? I seem to have forgotten what my name is ... A
likely story! Whatever's my name? Vasily Petukhov? No. Nikolay Sapogov? No.
Panteley Rysakov? No. Well, who the hell am I?
But then a fifth brick fell off the roof and so struck Kuznetsov on the
back of the head that Kuznetsov forgot everything once and for all and,
crying 'Oh, oh, oh!', ran off down the street.
If you wouldn't mind! If anyone should meet a man in the street with
five lumps on his head, please remind him that his name is Kuznetsov and
that he has to buy some carpenter's glue and repair a broken stool.
1935
Kalindov
Kalindov was standing on tiptoe and peering at me straight in the face. I found this unpleasant. I turned aside but Kalindov ran round me and was again peering at me straight in the face. I tried shielding myself from Kalindov with a newspaper. But Kalindov outwitted me: he set my newspaper alight and, when it flared up, I dropped it on the floor and Kalindov again began peering at me straight in she face. Slowly retreating, I repaired behind the cupboard and there, for a few moments, I enjoyed a break from the importunate stares of Kalindov. But my break was not prolonged: Kalindov crawled up to the cupboard on all fours and peered up at me from below. My patience ran out; I screwed up my eyes and booted Kalindov in the face. When I opened my eyes, Kalindov was standing in front of me, his mug bloodied and mouth lacerated, peering at me straight in the face as before. 1930
Five Unfinished Narratives
Dear Yakov Semyonovich,
1. A certain man, having taken a run, struck his head against a smithy with such force that the blacksmith put aside the sledge-hammer which he was holding, took off his leather apron and, having smoothed his hair with his palm, went out on to the street to see what had happened. 2. Then the smith spotted the man sitting on the ground. The man was sitting on the ground and holding his head. 3. -- What happened? -- asked the smith. -- Ooh! -- said the man. 4. The smith went a bit closer to the man. 5. We discontinue the narrative about the smith and the unknown man and begin a new narrative about four friends and a harem. 6. Once upon a time there were four harem fanatics. They considered it rather pleasant to have eight women at a time each. They would gather of an evening and debate harem life. They drank wine; they drank themselves blind drunk; they collapsed under the table; they puked up. It was disgusting to look at them. They bit each other on the leg. They bandied obscenities at each other. They crawled about on their bellies. 7. We discontinue the story about them and begin a new story about beer. 8. There was a barrel of beer and next to it sat a philosopher who contended: -- This barrel is full of beer; the beer is fermenting and strengthening. And I in my mind ferment along the starry summits and strengthen my spirit. Beer is a drink flowing in space; I also am a drink, flowing in time. 9. When beer is enclosed in a barrel, it has nowhere to flow. Time will stop and I will stand up. 10. But if time does not stop, then my flow is immutable. 11. No, it's better to let the beer flow freely, for it's contrary to the laws of nature for it to stand still. -- And with these words the philosopher turned on the tap in the barrel and the beer poured out over the floor. 12. We have related enough about beer; now we shall relate about a drum. 13. A philosopher beat a drum and shouted: -- I am making a philosophical noise! This noise is of no use to anyone, it even annoys everyone. But if it annoys everyone, that means it is not of this world. And if it's not of this world, then it's from another world. And if it is from another world, then I shall keep making it. 14. The philosopher made his noise for a long time. But we shall leave this noisy story and turn to the following quiet story about trees. 15. A philosopher went for a walk under some trees and remained silent, because inspiration had deserted him. 1931
Rebellion
-- Drink vinegar, gentlemen -- said Shuyev. No one gave him any reply. -- Gentlemen! -- shouted Shuyev -- I propose to you the drinking of vinegar! Makaronov got up from his armchair and said: -- I welcome Shuyev's idea. Let's drink vinegar. Rastopyakin said: -- I shall not be drinking vinegar. At this point a silence set in and everyone began to look at Shuyev. Shuyev sat stony-faced. It was not clear what he was thinking. Three minutes went by. Suchkov smothered a cough. Ryvin scratched his mouth. Kaltayev adjusted his tie. Makaronov jiggled his ears and his nose. And Rastopyakin, slumped against the back of his armchair, was looking as if indifferently into the fireplace. Seven or eight more minutes went by. Ryvin stood up and went out of the room on tiptoe. Kaltayev followed him with his eyes. When the door had closed behind Ryvin, Shuyev said: -- So. The rebel has departed. To the devil with the rebel! Everyone looked at each other in surprise, and Rastopyakin raised his head and fixed his gaze on Shuyev. Shuyev said sternly: -- He who rebels is a scoundrel! Suchkov cautiously, under the table, shrugged his shoulders. -- I am in favour of the drinking of vinegar -- Makaronov said quietly and looked expectantly at Shuyev. Rastopyakin hiccupped and, with embarrassment, blushed like a maiden. -- Death to the rebels! -- shouted Suchkov, baring his blackish teeth. 1934?
There once was a man whose name was Kuznetsov. He left his house to go
to a shop to buy some carpenter's glue so as to stick a stool.
When Kuznetsov was walking past an unfinished house, a brick fell off
the top and hit Kuznetsov on the head.
Kuznetsov fell, but straight away jumped to his feet and felt over his
head. On Kuznetsov's head a huge lump had come up.
Kuznetsov gave the lump a rub and said: -- I, citizen Kuznetsov, left
the house to go to the shop to... to... to... Oh, what on earth's happened?
I've forgotten why I was going to the shop!
At this point a second brick fell off the roof and again Kuznetsov was
struck on the head.
-- Akh! -- cried Kuznetsov, clutching at his head and feeling a second
lump on his head.
-- A likely story! -- said Kuznetsov. -- I, citizen Kuznetsov, left the
house to go to... to go to... to go to... where was I going!
Then a third brick fell from the top on to Kuznetsov's head. And on
Kuznetsov's head a third lump came up. -- Oh heck! -- yelled out Kuznetsov,
snatching at his head. -- I, citizen Kuznetsov, left the... left the... Left
the cellar? No. Left the boozer? Nol Where did I leave?
A fourth brick fell from the roof, hit Kuznetsov on the back of the
head and a fourth lump came up on Kuznetsov.
-- Well, now then! -- said Kuznetsov, scratching the back of his head.
-- I... I... I... Who am I ? I seem to have forgotten what my name is ... A
likely story! Whatever's my name? Vasily Petukhov? No. Nikolay Sapogov? No.
Panteley Rysakov? No. Well, who the hell am I?
But then a fifth brick fell off the roof and so struck Kuznetsov on the
back of the head that Kuznetsov forgot everything once and for all and,
crying 'Oh, oh, oh!', ran off down the street.
If you wouldn't mind! If anyone should meet a man in the street with
five lumps on his head, please remind him that his name is Kuznetsov and
that he has to buy some carpenter's glue and repair a broken stool.
1935
Kalindov
Kalindov was standing on tiptoe and peering at me straight in the face. I found this unpleasant. I turned aside but Kalindov ran round me and was again peering at me straight in the face. I tried shielding myself from Kalindov with a newspaper. But Kalindov outwitted me: he set my newspaper alight and, when it flared up, I dropped it on the floor and Kalindov again began peering at me straight in she face. Slowly retreating, I repaired behind the cupboard and there, for a few moments, I enjoyed a break from the importunate stares of Kalindov. But my break was not prolonged: Kalindov crawled up to the cupboard on all fours and peered up at me from below. My patience ran out; I screwed up my eyes and booted Kalindov in the face. When I opened my eyes, Kalindov was standing in front of me, his mug bloodied and mouth lacerated, peering at me straight in the face as before. 1930
Five Unfinished Narratives
Dear Yakov Semyonovich,
1. A certain man, having taken a run, struck his head against a smithy with such force that the blacksmith put aside the sledge-hammer which he was holding, took off his leather apron and, having smoothed his hair with his palm, went out on to the street to see what had happened. 2. Then the smith spotted the man sitting on the ground. The man was sitting on the ground and holding his head. 3. -- What happened? -- asked the smith. -- Ooh! -- said the man. 4. The smith went a bit closer to the man. 5. We discontinue the narrative about the smith and the unknown man and begin a new narrative about four friends and a harem. 6. Once upon a time there were four harem fanatics. They considered it rather pleasant to have eight women at a time each. They would gather of an evening and debate harem life. They drank wine; they drank themselves blind drunk; they collapsed under the table; they puked up. It was disgusting to look at them. They bit each other on the leg. They bandied obscenities at each other. They crawled about on their bellies. 7. We discontinue the story about them and begin a new story about beer. 8. There was a barrel of beer and next to it sat a philosopher who contended: -- This barrel is full of beer; the beer is fermenting and strengthening. And I in my mind ferment along the starry summits and strengthen my spirit. Beer is a drink flowing in space; I also am a drink, flowing in time. 9. When beer is enclosed in a barrel, it has nowhere to flow. Time will stop and I will stand up. 10. But if time does not stop, then my flow is immutable. 11. No, it's better to let the beer flow freely, for it's contrary to the laws of nature for it to stand still. -- And with these words the philosopher turned on the tap in the barrel and the beer poured out over the floor. 12. We have related enough about beer; now we shall relate about a drum. 13. A philosopher beat a drum and shouted: -- I am making a philosophical noise! This noise is of no use to anyone, it even annoys everyone. But if it annoys everyone, that means it is not of this world. And if it's not of this world, then it's from another world. And if it is from another world, then I shall keep making it. 14. The philosopher made his noise for a long time. But we shall leave this noisy story and turn to the following quiet story about trees. 15. A philosopher went for a walk under some trees and remained silent, because inspiration had deserted him. 1931
Rebellion
-- Drink vinegar, gentlemen -- said Shuyev. No one gave him any reply. -- Gentlemen! -- shouted Shuyev -- I propose to you the drinking of vinegar! Makaronov got up from his armchair and said: -- I welcome Shuyev's idea. Let's drink vinegar. Rastopyakin said: -- I shall not be drinking vinegar. At this point a silence set in and everyone began to look at Shuyev. Shuyev sat stony-faced. It was not clear what he was thinking. Three minutes went by. Suchkov smothered a cough. Ryvin scratched his mouth. Kaltayev adjusted his tie. Makaronov jiggled his ears and his nose. And Rastopyakin, slumped against the back of his armchair, was looking as if indifferently into the fireplace. Seven or eight more minutes went by. Ryvin stood up and went out of the room on tiptoe. Kaltayev followed him with his eyes. When the door had closed behind Ryvin, Shuyev said: -- So. The rebel has departed. To the devil with the rebel! Everyone looked at each other in surprise, and Rastopyakin raised his head and fixed his gaze on Shuyev. Shuyev said sternly: -- He who rebels is a scoundrel! Suchkov cautiously, under the table, shrugged his shoulders. -- I am in favour of the drinking of vinegar -- Makaronov said quietly and looked expectantly at Shuyev. Rastopyakin hiccupped and, with embarrassment, blushed like a maiden. -- Death to the rebels! -- shouted Suchkov, baring his blackish teeth. 1934?
one's time...
Time frames....
How does one measure change.... What time is one using? It's not all the same thing...
invisbile hand
the whole idea of invisible hand that will regulate the market is absurd. is it not just a passive aggressive position? instead of 'god' we have an 'invisible hand'. you can not ask the 'invisible hand' for responsibility and you can not ask god for it either.
when i was a child we didn't have horror films, but we kids would seat in the forest, in the village near yalta and tell horrible stories to each other. there was almost no light, so we woudl tell the stoires almost in the dark, seating on the broken piece of tree and tremble from fear. each sound form the forest or each strange shadow was giving us an extra shot of adrenaline and our phantasies would go wild! in certain moment we had to to the wc, which was in the end of the village. it was almost a ceremony. we all would go with our pocket lamps, it was a collective act. after those stories we were afraid of our own shadows and the fear will make our need to pie even more unbearable , but being together was a kind of hope that nothing will happen to us, together we will protect each other :). one of the favorite stories was one about 'the black hand' (in russian arm and hand is one thing). so this black hand was kind of a 'big brother always watching you', it would come to strangle you , when you didn't know.
the wc was surrounded by very high pine trees. on one of them, on the brunches there was a chest, made of wood with a big lock on it. my grandparents do not remember this chest, but we kids all new about it. we always thought that the black hand must live there and come one day out of there. so we would check every night if the big lock was still on it, as a guaranty that the hand will stay in this chest, hopefully for ever.
i still have the image of the pine tree with the wooden chest on it's brunches in front of my eyes :)
when i was a child we didn't have horror films, but we kids would seat in the forest, in the village near yalta and tell horrible stories to each other. there was almost no light, so we woudl tell the stoires almost in the dark, seating on the broken piece of tree and tremble from fear. each sound form the forest or each strange shadow was giving us an extra shot of adrenaline and our phantasies would go wild! in certain moment we had to to the wc, which was in the end of the village. it was almost a ceremony. we all would go with our pocket lamps, it was a collective act. after those stories we were afraid of our own shadows and the fear will make our need to pie even more unbearable , but being together was a kind of hope that nothing will happen to us, together we will protect each other :). one of the favorite stories was one about 'the black hand' (in russian arm and hand is one thing). so this black hand was kind of a 'big brother always watching you', it would come to strangle you , when you didn't know.
the wc was surrounded by very high pine trees. on one of them, on the brunches there was a chest, made of wood with a big lock on it. my grandparents do not remember this chest, but we kids all new about it. we always thought that the black hand must live there and come one day out of there. so we would check every night if the big lock was still on it, as a guaranty that the hand will stay in this chest, hopefully for ever.
i still have the image of the pine tree with the wooden chest on it's brunches in front of my eyes :)
the whole and parts
interesting notes you put on the blog. i think the most interesting part in these collaboration is that you are training your 'trust'. i mean trust not only into collaboration or trust into work, but also trust to myself. i think this trust is something constantly in process and it is difficult to maintain it. so losing trust is also part of the finding trust again. this is how i experience it. i saw very interesting work of yael bartana yesterday 'and europe will be stunned...'
here is the link
and in one of the texts she says
In Mary Koszmary (Nightmare), a Pole’s appeal for Jews to return to Poland is an appeal for the return of Polishness. A Polishness that keeps confronting itself with its own ‘others’, with the Polish Jews. A Polishness forced to constantly ask itself about what it is and to use the answer to rediscover its own diversity and colourfulness. We are grey and homogeneous, and therefore sad and frightened, the Leader says in Mary Koszmary. Our trespasses against you have been all the heavier a burden since we have repressed them, and are being amplified by your absence, because our fear of Jews is actually a fear of ourselves, of looking boldly into our own unclean conscience. So come here to release the constrained Polishness so that, through your presence, we can look into ourselves. Bring us our joy and colours, bring us the diverse, multicultural Poland — that’s how the Leader’s message could be interpreted.
i mean this trust or better to say the fear of trust or lack of trust, is actually the fear of confronting the other in yourself. and i guess this is the most difficult work to do in collaboration. when i do not trust myself i can not open up for the other in me.
i also like the manifesto of the jewish renaisance movement
here is the full text
and my favorite parts are
This is the response we propose for these times of crisis, when faith has been exhausted and old utopias have failed. Optimism is dying out. The promised paradise has been privatized. The Kibbutz apples and watermelons are no longer as ripe.
We shall be strong in our weakness
With one religion, we cannot listen.
With one color, we cannot see.
With one culture, we cannot feel.
Without you we can't even remember.
the work, the movie she did is aesthetically super great. it is on the border to become pathetic, but it's not, to become sentimental, but it's not. it is absurd, clever, self reflective, funny and tragic in the same time and it opens new possible utopias that we are so hungry of....
i had a meeting about the workshop in october in den haag and we came to a name 'designing the future'. to design an utopia in order to movie forwards and not be stuck with nostalgic frustrations of the past and present.
i am thinking about our project may be we can call 'the future without aggression' and also create another utopia reflecting on current strategies of fear propaganda. may be we can start with examples the cold war propaganda, but then go back into the history and come into now. so that frame out interest of theater lies in dramaturgy of fear. how fear is communicated into our lifes to destroy the trust. the fear of 'if we are so different we still can work together as a society'.
regarding my last personal experience i have difficulties right now to believe in it. but i can not completely deny it, because if i deny it, i deny myself.
still a question in my head how can be the audience also a part of the collective work?
i was very inspired to do some music dances with object and i did some, but it didn't work with the camera. may be something for wednsday to work on.
here is the link
and in one of the texts she says
In Mary Koszmary (Nightmare), a Pole’s appeal for Jews to return to Poland is an appeal for the return of Polishness. A Polishness that keeps confronting itself with its own ‘others’, with the Polish Jews. A Polishness forced to constantly ask itself about what it is and to use the answer to rediscover its own diversity and colourfulness. We are grey and homogeneous, and therefore sad and frightened, the Leader says in Mary Koszmary. Our trespasses against you have been all the heavier a burden since we have repressed them, and are being amplified by your absence, because our fear of Jews is actually a fear of ourselves, of looking boldly into our own unclean conscience. So come here to release the constrained Polishness so that, through your presence, we can look into ourselves. Bring us our joy and colours, bring us the diverse, multicultural Poland — that’s how the Leader’s message could be interpreted.
i mean this trust or better to say the fear of trust or lack of trust, is actually the fear of confronting the other in yourself. and i guess this is the most difficult work to do in collaboration. when i do not trust myself i can not open up for the other in me.
i also like the manifesto of the jewish renaisance movement
here is the full text
and my favorite parts are
This is the response we propose for these times of crisis, when faith has been exhausted and old utopias have failed. Optimism is dying out. The promised paradise has been privatized. The Kibbutz apples and watermelons are no longer as ripe.
We shall be strong in our weakness
With one religion, we cannot listen.
With one color, we cannot see.
With one culture, we cannot feel.
Without you we can't even remember.
the work, the movie she did is aesthetically super great. it is on the border to become pathetic, but it's not, to become sentimental, but it's not. it is absurd, clever, self reflective, funny and tragic in the same time and it opens new possible utopias that we are so hungry of....
i had a meeting about the workshop in october in den haag and we came to a name 'designing the future'. to design an utopia in order to movie forwards and not be stuck with nostalgic frustrations of the past and present.
i am thinking about our project may be we can call 'the future without aggression' and also create another utopia reflecting on current strategies of fear propaganda. may be we can start with examples the cold war propaganda, but then go back into the history and come into now. so that frame out interest of theater lies in dramaturgy of fear. how fear is communicated into our lifes to destroy the trust. the fear of 'if we are so different we still can work together as a society'.
regarding my last personal experience i have difficulties right now to believe in it. but i can not completely deny it, because if i deny it, i deny myself.
still a question in my head how can be the audience also a part of the collective work?
i was very inspired to do some music dances with object and i did some, but it didn't work with the camera. may be something for wednsday to work on.
co-authorship art practices ... and when the "whole is less then the parts"...
Interesting discussion in an interview with Paolo Virno....
On how 'collective' work can 'be' today... How it differs from what that was in the Fordist era in the developed areas of Europe and North America, and what the features of the Post-Fordist era are today ... How we are all entrepeneurs (privatized, in essence), and yet when we work together on art projects, on research projects, etc. which are not strictly commercial in their focus and aim, ---something else is happening then the 'norm' in this current political-economic structure of Post-Fordism.... This something else, this surplus, is in some ways fragile and ambivalent, as well...
extracts:
Micro-collectives, workgroups, research teams, etc. are half-productive, half-political structures. If we want, they are the no man’s land in which social cooperation stops being exclusively an economic resource and starts appearing as a public, non-stately sphere.
We are all entrepreneurs, even if an intermittent, occasional, contingent way. But, as I was saying, micro-collectives have an ambivalent character: apart from being productive structures, they are also germs of political organization. What is the importance of such ambivalence? What can it suggest in terms of the theory of the organization? In my opinion, this is the crucial issue: nowadays the subversion of the capitalistic relations of production can manifest itself through the institution of a public, non-stately sphere, of a political community oriented towards the general intellect.
...features of post-Fordist production (the valorization of its own faculty of language, a fundamental relation with the presence of the other, etc.) demand a radically new form of democracy. Micro-collectives are the symptom—as fragile and contradictory as they may be—of an exodus, of an enterprising subtraction of the rules of wage labor.
...'the whole is less than the sum of the parts'... It is a formula that correctly expresses the copiousness of social cooperation regarding its economical-productive finality. We are currently witnessing a phenomenon in collective intelligence that is identical to what happened thirty years ago in Italy, with the Sicilian oranges, when tons of fruit were destroyed in order to keep prices high. But this comparison only works to a certain extent. Nowadays, the quota of collective intelligence that is thrown away in the production of goods is not physically destroyed, but somehow remains there, as a ghost, as a non-used resource that is still available. The power that is freed by the sum of the parts, even if not expressed in its whole, meet a very different destiny. Sometimes it becomes frustration and melancholic inertia, or it generates pitiless competition and hysterical ambition. In other cases, it can be used as a propeller for subversive political action...Also, here we need to bear in mind an essential ambivalence: the same phenomenon can become both a danger and a salvation. The copiousness of collective intelligence is, altogether, heimlich—familiar and propitious—and unheimlich—disturb-ing and extraneous.
...today’s collective practices are connected to the decentered and heterogeneous net that composes post-Fordist social cooperation....Co-authorship is an attempt to correct on an aesthetic level the reality of a production in which “the whole is less than the sum of the parts.” It is an attempt to exhibit what would be the sum of the parts if it was not reduced to that whole....
from The Soviets of the Multitude: On Collectivity and Collective Work (Paolo Virno and Alexei Penzin)
download a copy of the full interview here
more works by Paolo Virno at arg under his name in the Library section
Ernie Kovacs... & Cramer....
nothing works... but then again...
telling stories... while tv-time is ticking... and just going in all kinds of directions... note the ending that self-reflexively deals with time and subverts in this crazy way the whole idea of what time is..
here is one of his weird-surreal things with objects! just objects:
here is the real famous one, the Kitchen Symphony:
Now Kovacs humor is obviously a bit of another time... but not perhaps as one might think...
*******
anyhow... on a completely different track.... here is this guy who does an economics show (which has been criticized quite a bit)... wherein he runs around sorta crazy-like while advising people on how to play the market... Cramer's Mad Money ... check out his buttons and sound effects (he used to do radio) that he uses to punctuate what he is talking about... its this sorta thing that could be useful... the weird thing here is the mad rush to explain what are good ideas and analysis while super packed with high-energy things is going on...tv-time demanding constant high-exciting energy... and this serious analysis... THAT is what could be useful.. all these buttons... and high-pressure... yet doing simple things (that have complexity to them)...
telling stories... while tv-time is ticking... and just going in all kinds of directions... note the ending that self-reflexively deals with time and subverts in this crazy way the whole idea of what time is..
here is one of his weird-surreal things with objects! just objects:
here is the real famous one, the Kitchen Symphony:
Now Kovacs humor is obviously a bit of another time... but not perhaps as one might think...
*******
anyhow... on a completely different track.... here is this guy who does an economics show (which has been criticized quite a bit)... wherein he runs around sorta crazy-like while advising people on how to play the market... Cramer's Mad Money ... check out his buttons and sound effects (he used to do radio) that he uses to punctuate what he is talking about... its this sorta thing that could be useful... the weird thing here is the mad rush to explain what are good ideas and analysis while super packed with high-energy things is going on...tv-time demanding constant high-exciting energy... and this serious analysis... THAT is what could be useful.. all these buttons... and high-pressure... yet doing simple things (that have complexity to them)...
Rhythm and Tension (and other notes...)
being more about tensions like this then about it making traditional dramaturgical sense (Nadia)
staying completely weird
not becoming super rational. but rather square rooting 'normal', rationalist ideas and senses.
a Dialogue all the while in general (but not neccesarily in language)
allowing multiple spaces to exist. afs is thinking of how narrative can work with slippages and indications that reveal that what you just heard/saw... happened in the past...
working with transitions
very much about our process
always lived in the future
always live in the present (!)
....she will come on the stage (then will come on the stage slightly different)
how about:? person in blue outfit who is not-there, with the words in dark blue "Trotsky 00" on his back (but also sorta blended in to his outfit, so that only in certain light can you read it) a... occassionally arrives... does some things (like starts sewing this gigantic beautiful yellow flag that is draping suddenly across the stage)... dissappears...
staying completely weird
not becoming super rational. but rather square rooting 'normal', rationalist ideas and senses.
a Dialogue all the while in general (but not neccesarily in language)
allowing multiple spaces to exist. afs is thinking of how narrative can work with slippages and indications that reveal that what you just heard/saw... happened in the past...
working with transitions
very much about our process
always lived in the future
always live in the present (!)
....she will come on the stage (then will come on the stage slightly different)
how about:? person in blue outfit who is not-there, with the words in dark blue "Trotsky 00" on his back (but also sorta blended in to his outfit, so that only in certain light can you read it) a... occassionally arrives... does some things (like starts sewing this gigantic beautiful yellow flag that is draping suddenly across the stage)... dissappears...
how about you have this great cosmonaut helmet from time to time when we really get into the future... or maybe just a cool contemporary motorcyle helmet and this image comes on that you stand in front of and sorta move about with this strange cool, aggressive energy for a while (in the helmet)...
i love the idea of an enormous amount of media that is tracking us. that is, all this worldwide recording. waiting and listening to ever word! what is going to happen!? what is going to be said!? with all kinds of logos! and different colors! like hundreds of mics and cables.. all different colors and logos...
*********
references (see new links in link section): Joseph Chaikin, Darren O'Donnel's main text "Social Acupuncture" (canadian performance maker who made a monologue which featured this interesting back and forth in time thing)
sleeping with the devil/reza abdoh
a shot from a short movie of this iranian director
these two people are fighting with each other in spanish. i do not understand a word, but i found exactly this interesting. i could fight with you in georgian language and you could try to calm me down :)
actually the whole movie is great and gives me inspiration in terms of what kind of action we could do on stage. i like the way it is cut. just the moments.
here is the movie
sleeping with the devil
nazi eugenics exhibition
Background: Volk und Rasse was a monthly published by the J.F. Lehmanns Verlag, a leading racist publishing house that easily fit into the Nazi system. It published some anti-Semitic material, but focused more on the “positive” side of Nazi racial theory, the strengthening of the German racial stock. On this page, I include illustrations from the August 1936 issue that show posters displayed at Nazi exhibitions on race. Many such exhibitions were held throughout the country in the 1930’s. The unpleasant drawings of those with “defective” genes are particularly interesting. The goal was to build support for Nazi eugenics measures, sterilization of the “unfit,” etc.
The source: Volk und Rasse, August 1936.
Posters from Nazi Racial Exhibitions
Exhibition Entrance
German Propaganda Archive Calvin College
This is the entrance to a 1934 exhibition in Berlin titled “The Miracle of Life.”
Healthy Farming Stock
The title: “The life force of a healthy farming family.” To the left is a farming couple who married in 1734, and now have offspring carrying their blood in 175 farms. To the right, the caption says: “Two children per family would lead to death and decline.” The bottom right illustration shows deserted farms, were that to happen.
Birth Rates in Big Cities
This poster states that the decline in births is greatest in big cities, where one child is the norm.
Bad Blood
This poster shows what happens if parents of good racial stock have two children, but those of poor racial stock have four. They begin in equal numbers, but after 120 years the weaker are the overwhelming majority.
Sterilization
The title: “Sterilization is liberation, not a punishment.” It show three handicapped children, with the caption: “Who would want to be responsible for this?”
Effects of Alcoholism
The title: “The terrible results of a woman drunkard.” It shows that over 83 years, she had 894 descendents, of whom 40 were indigent, 67 criminals, 7 murderers, 181 prostitutes, and 142 beggars. “436 (about 50%) were asocial, and caused 5 million Marks of harm.”
Burdens of Genetic Illness
This poster asserts that someone with a genetic illness costs the state on average 50,000 Marks by the time he reaches 60 years of age, which must be paid for by healthy citizens.
Effects of Intermarriage
This poster shows what happens when relatives carrying a genetic illness intermarry. It claims: “Between 1876 and 1935, only 40 of the 947 marriage partners in this religiously-based community came from another place.” It shows that most such intermarriages produced children with genetic illnesses.
Bad Genes
Caption: “Bad genes enter a village.” This poster shows that a woman moves to a village and has an illegitimate child with an unknown father. In the second generation, the daughter has an illegitimate child. In the third generation, the child marries a relative. In the fourth generation, one descendent marries a drunkard, and they have five children, two of them deaf. Another mentally ill descendent has an illegitimate child who ends up in prison.
The source: Volk und Rasse, August 1936.
Posters from Nazi Racial Exhibitions
Exhibition Entrance
German Propaganda Archive Calvin College
This is the entrance to a 1934 exhibition in Berlin titled “The Miracle of Life.”
Healthy Farming Stock
The title: “The life force of a healthy farming family.” To the left is a farming couple who married in 1734, and now have offspring carrying their blood in 175 farms. To the right, the caption says: “Two children per family would lead to death and decline.” The bottom right illustration shows deserted farms, were that to happen.
Birth Rates in Big Cities
This poster states that the decline in births is greatest in big cities, where one child is the norm.
Bad Blood
This poster shows what happens if parents of good racial stock have two children, but those of poor racial stock have four. They begin in equal numbers, but after 120 years the weaker are the overwhelming majority.
Sterilization
The title: “Sterilization is liberation, not a punishment.” It show three handicapped children, with the caption: “Who would want to be responsible for this?”
Effects of Alcoholism
The title: “The terrible results of a woman drunkard.” It shows that over 83 years, she had 894 descendents, of whom 40 were indigent, 67 criminals, 7 murderers, 181 prostitutes, and 142 beggars. “436 (about 50%) were asocial, and caused 5 million Marks of harm.”
Burdens of Genetic Illness
This poster asserts that someone with a genetic illness costs the state on average 50,000 Marks by the time he reaches 60 years of age, which must be paid for by healthy citizens.
Effects of Intermarriage
This poster shows what happens when relatives carrying a genetic illness intermarry. It claims: “Between 1876 and 1935, only 40 of the 947 marriage partners in this religiously-based community came from another place.” It shows that most such intermarriages produced children with genetic illnesses.
Bad Genes
Caption: “Bad genes enter a village.” This poster shows that a woman moves to a village and has an illegitimate child with an unknown father. In the second generation, the daughter has an illegitimate child. In the third generation, the child marries a relative. In the fourth generation, one descendent marries a drunkard, and they have five children, two of them deaf. Another mentally ill descendent has an illegitimate child who ends up in prison.
wilders as robin hood
i don't understand everything, but there is a women that answers the question 'who is wilders for her'- she says he is a robin hood of today, he speaks simple peoples language and he is not afraid to say his opinion.
'how aggression becomes a positive message'- lack of reasoning. use of simple people, like you and me- populist politics are build on this kind of ground.
here another fear propaganda
'how aggression becomes a positive message'- lack of reasoning. use of simple people, like you and me- populist politics are build on this kind of ground.
here another fear propaganda
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