Posts tagged Art.

What is interesting, is that the Frida Kahlo venerated by American feminists is a very different Frida Kahlo to the one people learn about in Mexico, in the Chicano community. In her country, she is recognized as an important artist and a key figure in revolutionary politics of early 20th century Mexico. Her communist affiliations are made very clear. Her relationship with Trotsky is underscored. All her political activities with Diego Rivera are constantly emphasized. The connection between her art and her politics is always made. When Chicana artists became interested in Frida Kahlo in the ‘70s and started organizing homages, they made the connection between her artistic project and theirs because they too were searching for an aesthetic compliment to a political view that was radical and emancipatory. But when the Euro-American feminists latch onto Frida Kahlo in the early ‘80s and when the American mainstream caught on to her, she was transformed into a figure of suffering. I am very critical of that form of appropriation.

Coco Fusco on her Amerindians piece, 1992 with Guillermo Gómez-Peña

(via mizoguchi)

OBJECTIFICATION & THE MEDIAL CONTEXT

The varying speeds at which I have been trained to consume and process information has provided significant challenges to both my artistic, occupational and interpersonal lives. The speed at which my generation’s learned to consume and process information is directly proportional to our medially saturated culture in which the acquisition of a fast informational digestive track is crucial for surviving in a competitive market. The ability to parse through information rapidly and efficiently—being able to quickly sort between what is good and what is not, between “this” and “that”—is simultaneously a recent advent of our culture’s commercialization and a basic primitive response; the ability to sort between the good and the bad, and to do so quickly and correctly, without fail, is a natural adaptation to dangerous, threatening environments—those with poisons, predators, and harsh conditions abound. The current medial context plays off of this basic response, sublimating this primitive drive into the basic functioning of most social interaction.

Tumblr and Twitter, for instance, through their dashboard features, necessitate you scroll through a diverse assortment of images, sounds and text with relative speed, digesting them with a discerning eye for what is and is not personally appealing and possibly worth adding to your own page. Since we are not in control necessarily of what others post and add to our dashboards, having scroll through offensive, grotesque, triggering and otherwise unappealing content becomes a necessary symptom and condition of the consumption process. This process itself engenders a continuous negotiation of self-anesthesia and deliberate stimulating fixation, oscillating between the two in order to accurately perceive and evaluate without internalizing the collateral, negative concomitants of our fast-paced read-through.

This is hardly a new or particularly interesting phenomenon, but I’ve been curious about the extent to which this adaptive process has carried over into my interpersonal and academic environments. In the interpersonal sphere, the rapid consumption of information regarding the relative benefits and detriments to engaging with particular individuals often proves an insufficient measure of viability and its opposite. People, rife with grief, longing, and histories that haunt, are often contaminated in latent, covert ways that defy our most shallow and instinctive perceptions. When applied to individuals— complex, internally contradicting, competitive and historical—the process of rapid consumption can become a trap affixing us to those who have been rendered commoditized goods to be digested quickly as opposed to holistically. In an academic context, I have an entrenched aversion to texts that don’t immediately read as particularly piquing, resulting my identifying with texts and ideas which already satisfy my pre-existing biases and judgements. The medial context—and the rapidness that facilitates its smooth functioning—renders necessarily the complex living into the object, those objects to be consumed and discarded. In the case of love, and true friendship, the effects of this mental restructuring and re-alignment might wrongly tether us to reductive understandings about the complexity of human identity, the nature of desire, and our means of developing empathy; that is, aligning with what is most immediately “good” might be a necessary survival mechanism, but it is one that should be constantly reevaluated and revamped to adapt to changing and complex discourses. 

And so how do we cultivate empathy when a cursory overlook of individual human identity is as easy as scrolling through a dashboard? How do we re-equip ourselves with the tools necessary to both recognize and deconstruct the manifold constituent pieces of human identity—races, histories, trauma, genders, desires and horrors, both those latent, distorted and suppressed—with respect for the time they necessitate and the difficulty of the challenges doing so presents. It seems as if medial discourse has unnecessarily heightened the stakes perceived by the survival instinct, and has primed us to be distrustful, to align most immediately with those who we liken ourselves to on the most basic, visual and surface levels, discarding the rest for fear of possible harm. Considering the fact that the media is here to stay, our goal should be to construct new structures in which consumption is slowed and deliberate, in ways that demand our intention, a true and holistic evaluation of benefit and danger; that deconstructs notions of likeness and norm between objects and subjects alike, that relies as much on reason, introspection and speculative contemplation as means of determining beneficial or detrimental returns—one in which the object returns as much attention as it is given. If the media necessitates the objectification of these desires, images and people, then it ought to be our prerogative to reshape the structure to allow for new methods of understanding and identifying, new means of broadening our definition of human—new ways of understanding “sight.” 

Rhythm 10, 1973 by Marina Abramović

Jenny Holzer

Helena Almeida, Pintura Habitada, 1975

Aldous Massie, ”Laura”

Julie Mehretu

“So I kept writing through the summer, and in August the baby was born and I’d cradle him in my left arm while writing melodies at the piano with my right, and I said, let Osiris the keeper of the gates be my witness, other songwriters may go soft when they get to be parents but I am going to keep going all the way down into the inner darkness, it will set a good example for the baby, and besides, what am I going to do, suddenly start writing songs about cute things instead of songs about how to wrest cries of triumph from the screaming places? Please. May the baby grow up to spit in my face if I should pose that hard.”

John Darnielle

Spencer Wilton

#Art  #Religion  

(“Hmph.”)

“A guilty conscience needs to confess. A work of art is a confession.”
—Albert Camus

#Camus  #Art  

“Culture replaces authentic feeling with words. As an example of this, imagine an infant lying in its cradle, and the window is open, and into the room comes something, marvelous, mysterious, glittering, shedding light of many colors, movement, sound, a transformative hierophany of integrated perception and the child is enthralled and then the mother comes into the room and she says to the child, “that’s a bird, baby, that’s a bird,” instantly the complex wave of the angel peacock irridescent transformative mystery is collapsed, into the word. All mystery is gone, the child learns this is a bird, this is a bird, and by the time we’re five or six years old all the mystery of reality has been carefully tiled over with words. This is a bird, this is a house, this is the sky, and we seal ourselves in within a linguistic shell of disempowered perception. What the psychedelics do is they burst apart this cultural envelope of confinement and return us to the legacy and birthright of the organism.”

Terence McKenna

Julie Mehretu

1 year ago on 05/05/12 at 05:43pm

“‘Like a work of art,’ she repeated, looking from her canvas to the drawing-room steps and back again. She must rest for a moment. And, resting, looking from one to the other vaguely, the old question which traversed the sky of the soul perpetually, the vast, the general question which was apt to particularise itself at such moments as these, when she released faculties that had been on the strain, stood over her, paused over her, darkened over her. What is the meaning of life? That was all—a simple question; one that tended to close in on one with years. The great revelation had never come. The great revelation perhaps never did come. Instead there were little daily miracles, illuminations, matches struck unexpectedly in the dark; here was one. This, that, and the other; herself and Charles Tansley and the breaking wave; Mrs. Ramsay bringing them together; Mrs. Ramsay saying, ‘Life stand still here’; Mrs. Ramsay making of the moment something permanent (as in another sphere Lily herself tried to make of the moment something permanent)—this was of the nature of a revelation. In the midst of chaos there was shape; this eternal passing and flowing (she looked at the clouds going and the leaves shaking) was struck into stability. Life stand still here, Mrs. Ramsay said. ‘Mrs. Ramsay! Mrs. Ramsay!’ she repeated. She owed it all to her.”

Virginia WoolfTo the Lighthouse