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Zinzin

Archives for March 2012

March 29, 2012 By Jay

Kipple drives out nonkipple

You can’t have everything. Where would you put it?
~Steven Wright

Kipple is a word invented by the science fiction author Philip K. Dick for a concept similar to entropy. Here is the passage explaining kipple from Dick’s 1968 novel Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, which was made into the film Blade Runner:

Kipple is useless objects, like junk mail or match folders after you use the last match or gum wrappers or yesterday’s home page. When nobody’s around, kipple reproduces itself. For instance, if you to go bed leaving any kipple around your apartment, when you wake up there is twice as much of it. It always gets more and more.

The novel’s philosopher of kipple, J. R. Isidore (who became J. F. Sebastian in Blade Runner), explains:

…the First Law of Kipple (is that) ‘Kipple drives out nonkipple’… (one) can roll the kipple-factor back… No one can win against kipple, except temporarily and maybe in one spot, like in my apartment I’ve sort of created a stasis between the pressure of kipple and nonkipple, for the time being. But eventually I’ll die or go away, and then the kipple will take over. It’s a universal principal operating throughout the universe; the entire universe is moving towards a final state of total, absolute kippleization.

Kipple is everywhere, and in many ways our lives are defined by how we do battle with kipple. Many people have begun to realize there must be a healthier alternative to the continuous consumption that leads to ever larger masses of kipple crowding our lives, an alternative variously called minimalism or simplicity. Kipple is nothing if not resilient, however, and the twin engines of entropy and capitalism keep churning it out at an incredible rate.  Notes the technovelgy.com entry on kipple:

Kipple seems to be a combination of entropy and capitalism. I don’t think past civilizations had the resources to produce so much packaging to hold our stuff until we buy it or consume it.

…Physicists will note the similarity to the concept of entropy, which is most usually taken to refer to the tendency of closed systems toward increasing disorder.

I like the definition taken from classical thermodynamics, that entropy is a quantitative measure of the amount of thermal energy not available to do work. In the 21st century, we seem to be working as hard as we can to take available resources and transform them into objects that cannot be used for anything (kipple).

Kipple is the perfect word to describe the entropic clutter filling our houses, our cities, our computers and our minds. It’s a very sweet word, gentle and disarming, but, just like the physical stuff of kipple, it sneaks up on you. And when the balance swings way over to the side of kipple, you get hoarders. Daniel Rourke has a great essay about kipple and hoarding, Kipple and Things, over at 3 Quarks Daily. It brings into the mix some early Philip K. Dick stories,  the lists of Jorge Luis Borges,  and the story of the Collyer brothers, Homer and Langley, who withdrew into their New York City mansion until they were found dead in 1947, killed by–and absorbed into–the kipple they had piled up around themselves for decades. Rourke references the Wikipedia list of objects pulled from the Collyer house, noting that it “reads like a Borges original”:

Items removed from the house included baby carriages, a doll carriage, rusted bicycles, old food, potato peelers, a collection of guns, glass chandeliers, bowling balls, camera equipment, the folding top of a horse-drawn carriage, a sawhorse, three dressmaking dummies, painted portraits, pinup girl photos, plaster busts, Mrs. Collyer’s hope chests, rusty bed springs, a kerosene stove, a child’s chair, more than 25,000 books (including thousands about medicine and engineering and more than 2,500 on law), human organs pickled in jars, eight live cats, the chassis of an old Model T Ford, tapestries, hundreds of yards of unused silks and fabric, clocks, 14 pianos (both grand and upright), a clavichord, two organs, banjos, violins, bugles, accordions, a gramophone and records, and countless bundles of newspapers and magazines.

Finally: There was also a great deal of rubbish.

Yes, finally we get to the rubbish, as if the rest of the debris wasn’t rubbish. But of course it wasn’t–it was kipple. Whether on the floor or in the drawer, the tabletop or the shelves, in the attic or in the crawlspace, on the lawn or out back in the garden shed, kipple is everywhere, and ever growing. It is the great plague on Civilization, and in many ways it defines our lives through multiple phases that all exist simultaneously: 1) acquisition of kipple; 2) management of kipple; 3) purging of kipple. Only death can free us from kipple; unfortunately, then loved ones inherit our kipple, and the cycle continues. All we can do to counteract the force of kipple is to make an effort to consume less, recycle more, throw more away, and love and laugh as much as possible. The New Yorker cartoon, below, gets right to the crux of the kipple problem.

AC adapters cartoon
Courtesy of New Yorker magazine, artist: Tom Cheney.

Filed Under: Ideas Tagged With: Blade Runner, kipple, Philip K. Dick, science fiction

March 29, 2012 By Jay

Is a bird as free as a bird?

“Artists talk a lot about freedom. So, recalling the expression “free as a bird,” Morton Feldman went to a park one day and spent some time watching our feathered friends. When he came back, he said, “You know? They’re not free: they’re fighting over bits of food.”
~John Cage

Filed Under: Quotes Tagged With: birds, John Cage, Morton Feldman

March 29, 2012 By Jay

Better Living Through Chemistry: Vintage Pharmaceutical Ads

Thorazine vintage drug ads - senility and stress

With so many people lately consumed by the TV show Mad Men, it’s worth taking a look back to what the real mad genius ad men of the 1950s and ’60s were cooking up in their ginsoaked three-martini lunch and evening highball pickled cerebral cortexes: insane pharmaceutical ads that took DuPont’s famous Better Living Through Chemistry slogan to heart, and went from there off the deep end with the belief that we can control the uncontrollable with the proper chemical flavor.

More vintage pharmaceutical ads: Psychiatric Drugs: A History in Ads; Japanese Pharmaceutical Ad Gallery; Truly Marvelous Mental Medicine: Thorazine shuffle.)

Filed Under: Advertising Tagged With: DuPont, Mad Men, pharmaceuticals, vintage ads

March 28, 2012 By Jay

After the Cataclysmic Oatmeal War of Prehistory: Reconsidering Antonioni’s Zabriskie Point

Now considered a cult film, Michelangelo Antonioni’s 1970 film, Zabriskie Point, was a huge commercial flop, costing $7 million to make–a huge sum back then–and grossing less than $1 million in its brief theatrical run. The director of the very successful Blow Up , his first of three English-language films, had blown up at the box office. The film also literally–as “literal” as a fantasy sequence can be in any film, especially this one–blew up at the end, as the above YouTube clip of the final scene depicts.

The music, which starts about half way through the scene, is by Pink Floyd (“Come In Number 51, Your Time Is Up,” a variation of “Careful With That Axe, Eugene”). The house didn’t really blow up — it is a fantasy of the beautiful female lead Daria (played by Daria Halprin), who is otherwise “a sweet, pot-smoking post-teenybopper of decent inclinations,” wrote Vincent Canby in his original New York Times review of Zabriskie Point. Why, I wondered, if a film at least looks this good, was it panned and attacked upon release by nearly everybody of every political and cultural stripe? Here’s Canby again:

The main problem with “Zabriskie Point” is that Antonioni has done nothing with his physical production to illuminate in any meaningful way the emotional states of his two principal characters—if, indeed, they have any.

They are completely instinctive people, but their instincts have been imposed upon them by an intellectualizing Antonioni, rather than by God. Everything in the film is calculated, including the prettily-photographed, conventionally-ironic contrasts between the principal locations—Los Angeles (used-car lots, absurd billboards, glass-and-steel office buildings reaching above the smog) and Death Valley, whose barren hills look like the remains of some cataclysmic oatmeal war of prehistory.

Paradoxically, even though everything is calculated, nothing within the film justifies its final, apocalyptic vision of the disintegration of the Western world to the accompaniment of a funky rock tune. It’s lovely to look at (books, furniture, food, a copy of Look magazine, all hanging suspended in an emulsion of deep blue), but completely absurd in the context.

Prettily-photographed, conventionally-ironic, is a deft putdown of any work of art with grand pretension, which Zabriskie Point had in spades. But times change, and so do opinions, at least some of them. It’s important to remember that Zabriskie Point was made in the era before home video, home theater, cable TV, movie channels, the Internet, TiVo, timeshifting, DVDs, Netflix, Redbox, movie streaming, Apple TV, YouTube, Vimeo, iPods-Phones-Pads and all the countless other ways we ingest, digest and otherwise consume “motion pictures” today. So when a movie stopped playing in theaters back then, if it didn’t get picked up by network television–the only kind of television there was–it was never heard from again outside the occasional art house screening. And since no TV network would ever show this film, it effectively vanished, and didn’t even get released on DVD until a few years ago. It became, in effect, a cultural time capsule of a most bygone era, rarely seen or discussed for nearly 40 years. Now that Zabriskie Point can be seen by an entire culture of fresh eyes, is the critical judgment any less harsh?

Strange charm

Dennis Lim, writing in Slate in 2009, asks the astute question: Was Zabriskie Point–Antonioni’s biggest flop–just misunderstood?

All this rancor is a little hard to fathom today. Recently issued on DVD for the first time by Warner Home Video, Zabriskie Point is of a piece with Antonioni’s best work: a luxuriant portrait of spiritual alienation with a sense of place far more expressive than its blankly beautiful characters…. But was Zabriskie Point out of fashion precisely because it nailed the zeitgeist?

In other words, if Zabriskie Point was actually a faithful depiction of a bad trip, then of course people at the time, many still living the bad trip, would hate the movie. Like waking up in the morning with the worst hangover in your life, stumbling into the bathroom and getting mad at the mirror for the hideous scene it depicts. And the “straight culture” that was critical of the bad trip to begin with would of course comply with the film’s artsy stereotype that they are “square” and summarily reject this film. Thus a movie that nobody, at the time, could like. So, could it possibly be likable now?

Having never seen this film, and being a huge fan of Antonioni’s earlier Italian films and his other two English-language films Blow Up and The Passenger (with Jack Nicholson), I decided to rent the Zabriskie Point DVD and finally see what all the fuss was about. I was skeptical, and prepared for the worst. But guess what? I loved the film. Yes, much of the acting is pretty bad (but not that of Rod Taylor as the land developer/boss/lover of Daria, and his compadres at Sunny Dunes Corp), and its attempts at social and political relevance are pretentious and clunky. Such damnation would sink most films, and have sunk this one for over four decades. But I believe the film succeeds in spite of all those knocks, and perhaps the negatives even add to its allure now, and become part of its charm. Because the naivete behind the director, writers and the characters is kind of charming from this vantage point, almost like some kind of primitive folk art.

What I think is most astonishing about Zabriskie Point is partly the very prettily-photographed scenes that Vincent Canby decried, but especially the craft and precision with which those scenes are put together. Every frame of this film is a work of art, and perhaps the best way to appreciate it is through stop-motion, frame-by-frame viewing of the DVD, something that was not possible to viewers back in 1970. That’s what I did, after first watching the film “normally,” in an effort to figure out how this thing was constructed. (I even shot a bunch of photos of individual frames, some of which I am putting together into a composite image for a follow-up blog post, to try to express visually this feeling I had while watching the film.)

Charged and sentenced

Vincent Canby complained that Antonioni had “done nothing with his physical production to illuminate in any meaningful way the emotional states of his two principal characters—if, indeed, they have any,” but I think he missed the point. I don’t think the emotional states of the main characters, especially Mark, are the focus here. I think its the emotional state of the camera, and by extension us, the audience, is what’s most important. We witness scenes and encounters more than much of a conventional “plot,” and the invention, to me, is in how strikingly third-person in tone it all is: the camera/director become our avatar in an alien world, forty years before James Cameron’s mystical blue people of planet Pandora did this literally, and much less interestingly.

When Canby wrote of the climactic scene that, “it’s lovely to look at…but completely absurd in the context,” I think it shows that he, like everybody at the time, misunderstood what the context of the film actually is, so of course it seemed absurd to him. If if the context is misjudged, then the way the film is shot can easily be seen as mannered, as Canby notes:

Various Antonioni mannerisms—the blank screen suddenly filled with a face, the endless tracking shots, the pregnant pauses between unfinished thoughts—are finally only tolerable because you remember the times when they were better used.

Whatever the faults of Zabriskie Point — and there are many — it is a visual and structural masterpiece. It is dense with signs and symbols — literally — but that alone isn’t what makes the film so interesting. It’s the way in which the film becomes a persona of it’s own that is so striking. I think that when it came out, a charged (and foreign) indictment of American culture released into a very politically charged environment, it became an easy scapegoat of all that is wrong, from every cranny of the political spectrum. It is a film that has suffered, in effect, from its own cataclysmic oatmeal war of (contemporary) prehistory. That war is now over. (Spoiler: nobody won.) We have our very own culture wars now.

The sound of silence

Zabriskie Point  also has a great soundtrack, featuring music by Pink Floyd, Grateful Dead, Jerry Garcia, John Fahey, The Rolling Stones, Roscoe Holcomb, and Patti Page. However, the strongest audio presence in the film is silence. Like a true ancestor of the Dogme 95 movement, most songs are only heard very briefly in the film, and usually only when a character turns on a radio; most of the time, there is no musical accompaniment, and nearly silence on the soundtrack. This gives the action on screen a lot more breathing room, and furthers the transformation of camera into character, as we are not distracted by the artifice of soundtrack music.

Perhaps the most telling comment of all comes from a throwaway line narrated in the original Zabriskie Point trailer: Zabriskie Point. How you get there depends on where you’re at. My advice for today’s viewer is to leave your ideologies “where you’re at,” and surrender to the thoroughly alien — and rapturously beautiful — world that is Zabriskie Point.

Filed Under: Film Tagged With: Blow Up, Death Valley, Dogme 95, Grateful Dead, Jerry Garcia, John Fahey, Los Angeles, Michelangelo Antonioni, Patti Page, Pink Floyd, Roscoe Holcomb, The Rolling Stones, Vincent Canby, Zabriskie Point

March 28, 2012 By Martin

You’ll Never Walk Alone: 20,000 Fearless Soccer Fan Chants

“Fearless” is one of my favorite Pink Floyd songs, due in part to the embedded (football) field recording of Liverpool Kop fans singing the Rodgers and Hammerstein composition “You’ll Never Walk Alone”. So I was enthralled by this On The Media story about a football fan who spent the last 5 years recording, collecting and archiving over 20,000 football chants.

On The Media (March 23, 2012)
An Archive of Soccer Fans Chants
Guest: Michael Dennis Hosted by: Bob Garfield

The impulse to archive isn’t restricted to dying languages or ancient relics. Sometimes you archive something simply because you love it. Fanchants.co.uk is a repository of more than 20,000 soccer fan chants from all over the world. It started as a business and remains one – but it’s become a labor of love. Bob speaks with Michael Dennis, a co-founder of Fan Chants.

A short list of chants that Michael Dennis has collected:

  • Build A Bonfire Song
  • Can You Here The Wednesday Sing?
  • We Pay Your Benefit
  • We’re Doing The Huddle When Rangers Die
  • Stickin’ To The Union
  • Who’s That Knocking On The Window
  • North End Noise
  • Save The Snail
  • Time For Your Sandwiches
  • Speak F*cking English
  • Poor Scouser Tommy
  • We All Love Leeds, We Hate Ken Bates
  • Corinthians My Life
  • Dirty Northern B*stard
  • Time For Your Sandwiches
  • Boing, Boing
  • Pogo If You Love The Toon Song

Filed Under: Music Tagged With: Bob Garfield, Michael Dennis, Pink Floyd, Rodgers and Hammerstein, sports, video

March 27, 2012 By Martin

Dear John: Postcards from On Kawara to John Baldessari

on_kawarai_got_up_at

I Got Up At…, 1974–75: On Kawara’s works, particularly those associated with early Conceptual art, are exemplary of an oeuvre that is at once personal and universal. The confessional autobiographical quality of I Got Up At…, a series of postcards providing diurnal accounts of his rising times that he sent to his artist friend John Baldessari over the course of three months, document Kawara’s existence in time while also allowing that which is typically immaterial to assume material form. Source: The Museum of Contemporary Art, Los Angeles

Image credit: On Kawara (b. 1933, Kariya, Aichi Prefecture, Japan; lives and works in New York), I Got Up At…, 1974–75. Ninety postcards with printed rubber stamps, 3 1/2 x 4 in. each and 4 x 6 in. each. The Museum of Contemporary Art, Los Angeles. Gift of John Baldessari and Denise Spampinato.

Filed Under: Art Tagged With: John Baldessari, On Kawara

March 27, 2012 By Jay

Henri Michaux’s Images du monde visionnaire

Henri Michaux - Images du monde visionnaire
Composite of frames from the film, Images du monde visionnaire, 1964, by the Belgian poet Henri Michaux, commissioned by the Sandoz pharmaceutical company. Click to enlarge.

Henri Michaux (1899–1984) was a beautifully strange and idiosyncratic Belgian poet, writer, painter, and maker of exactly one film. He was often called a surrealist, but did not really belong to that or any other group. Notes the Poetry Foundation:

Frederic Sepher pointed out that much of his poetry reads like short stories, although most of it does rhyme. He stated that while Michaux is probably the “least lyric of all contemporary French poets,” and employs few metaphors, “he is brilliantly imaginative, inventive and rythmic. He even verges on the musical in his haunting, desperate litanies with their repetitions and developments.”

Haunting, too, is Michaux’s emphasis on “the strangeness of natural things and the naturalness of strange things,” as Andre Gide once described Michaux’s philosophy. Like Swift, Flaubert, and Lautreament, Michaux created imaginery lands inhabited by equally chimerical creatures. The royal spider, the Hacs, the Emanglons, and the Gaurs are just a few of the inhabitants in what are considered his best works, including Voyage en Grande Garbagne, Au Pays de la magie, and Ici, Poddema. These creatures are portrayed as being more real than human beings.

Michaux traveled widely and experimented with drugs, which landed him the job of making his only film, Images du monde visionnaire, in 1964: Here is a description from the website Ombres Blanches, which tells the story about this amazing and forgotten film:

It’s not an experimental but an educational film which was produced in 1963 by the film department of Swiss pharmaceutical company Sandoz (best known for synthesizing LSD in 1938) in order to demonstrate the hallucinogenic effects of mescaline and hashish. Still it shares many traits with some of the more interesting efforts in avant-garde film making of its time. Maybe the most remarkable [thing] about it is that it is the only venture in film of notable French writer and painter Henri Michaux who wrote several accounts of his experiments with drugs. In charge with the filmic translation of Michaux’ prescriptions was director Eric Duvivier (a nephew of Julien Duvivier) whose other films include an adaptation of Max Ernst’s collage novel La femme 100 têtes.

The page from Ombers Blanches is quoted on UbuWeb, where you can also watch the entire 38-minute film. I went through the film and assembled the above composite of 30 images that especially struck me and evoke the flavor of this film. It’s a beautiful film, and no drugs are required.

Filed Under: Film Tagged With: Andre Gide, Eric Duvivier, Gustave Flaubert, Henri Michaux, Johathan Swift, Lautréamont, LSD, Max Ernst, Sandoz

March 26, 2012 By Martin

Showers Late, High: 58° Low: 52°

on_kawara_oct_31_1978

We are the same, but different.
Things are the same, but different.
The days are the same, but different.
~On Kawara

Oct. 31, 1978 is one of more than two thousand “date paintings” that On Kawara has produced since 1966. Though they vary in size, each work shares a similar format—the specific date, which is painted without the use of stencils in white, occupies a central location on the monochromatic canvas and is the painting’s sole image. Utilizing the language of the country where he painted the canvas, Kawara either completes each work on the day emblazoned on its surface or destroys it. While usually not exhibited, a newspaper accompanies every work to document the date and location of its execution. Deceptively simple, Oct. 31, 1978, like all of Kawara’s date paintings, both records and celebrates the simple fact that the artist, and his creative energies, existed at this point in time.
~Source: The Art Institute of Chicago

Image credit: On Kawara, American, born Japan 1933: Oct. 31, 1978 (Today Series, “Tuesday”), 1978. Acrylic on canvas and newspaper, 155 x 226 cm (61 x 89 in.). Twentieth-Century Purchase Fund, 1980.2a-b. © On Kawara. Courtesy David Zwirner, New York.

Filed Under: Art Tagged With: On Kawara, time

March 26, 2012 By Martin

Angel from Montgomery by Bonnie Raitt

Angel from Montgomery
by John Prine

I am an old woman, named after my mother
My old man is another, child that’s grown old
If dreams were thunder, lightning were desire
This old house would have burnt down, a long time ago

Make me an angel that flies from Montgomery
Make me a poster from an old rodeo
Just give me one thing that I can hold on to
To believe in this living is just a hard way to go

When I was a young girl, well I had me a cowboy
He weren’t much to look at, just a free rambling man
But that was a long time, and no matter how I try
The years just flow by, like a broken down dam

There’s flies in the kitchen, I can hear ’em there buzzing
And I ain’t done nothing, since I woke up today
How the hell can a person, go to work in the morning
And come home in the evening, and have nothing to say

Filed Under: Music Tagged With: Bonnie Raitt, John Prine, video

March 25, 2012 By Jay

Text paintings by New Zealand’s Colin McCahon

The Lark's Song, 1969
Colin McCahon, The Lark's Song, 1969. Acrylic on two wooden doors, overall 162.6 x 198 cm.

Unless, like me, you are not from New Zealand, you’ve probably never heard of the artist Colin McCahon. Regarded by many as New Zealand’s greatest painter, McCahon (1919-1987) created many works in a variety of styles, from landscapes to religious-spiritual narrative paintings, to cosmic spiritual abstractions. But it’s his strange, (mostly) religious text paintings that really stand out for me. And not surprising for someone so compelled to put many words into his paintings, he has some great titles; here are some of my favorites:

  • A Fall Of Light Illuminating Darkness
  • Fog Drawings
  • A Painting For Uncle Frank
  • About The State Of The Tide
  • This Day A Man Is
  • Moby Dick Is (Was) A Volcano
  • Necessary Protection
  • Rocks In The Sky
  • A Handkerchief For St Veronica
  • Mondrian’s Last Chrysanthemum
  • Throw Out The Lifeline
  • Tomorrow Will Be The Same But Not As This Is

[Read more…] about Text paintings by New Zealand’s Colin McCahon

Filed Under: Art Tagged With: Colin McCahon, Kenneth Patchen, New Zealand

March 25, 2012 By Jay

The Office of Control: Fireworks Occurring Over Anonymous Government River

The Office of Control - 1

  • Question: If Control’s control is absolute, why does Control need to control?
  • Answer: Control… needs time.
  • Question: Is Control controlled by its need to control?
  • Answer: Yes.
  • ~William S. Burroughs, “Ah Pook the Destroyer”

[Read more…] about The Office of Control: Fireworks Occurring Over Anonymous Government River

Filed Under: Art, Photography Tagged With: William S. Burroughs

March 24, 2012 By Martin

Telephone Booth Number 905 1/2, by Reverend Pedro Pietri

Telephone Booth Number 905 1/2
by Reverend Pedro Pietri

woke up this morning
feeling excellent,
picked up the telephone
dialed the number of
my equal opportunity employer
to inform him I will not be in to work today.
“Are you feeling sick?”
the boss asked me
“No Sir,” I replied:
“I am feeling too good
to report to work today.
If I feel sick tomorrow
I will come in early!”

From The United States of Poetry episode “A Day in the Life.”
Copyright Washington Square Arts, 1995.

Filed Under: Poetry Tagged With: Reverend Pedro Pietri, video

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