critics make distinctions, insist that high art must not mix with the profane, but genius sees itself reflected in any glittering surface > jean cocteau quoted by edmund white, in 'jean genet', 1993 >>>

 >>>

22. The second bit on the fire was the death of Jacques Derrida in 2004. The TV around the globe went to the street and asks if the pointers shopping knew who was he, for a tremendous ‘whom’? He was considered one of the biggest philosophers of the last century and concerned with tracing the incoherence and contingency of philosophical arguments, playing it against themselves! His thesis, Deconstructionism, analysed especially language and its meaning to Europeans, in opposition to the values and importance of the Arabic world, as he called it, was more an exercise in cultural history. Extremely rational (logos) attempt always ends in comparison with the mythos, and all its contradictions that create racial identities.22.1. William B. Heinz was upfront opposed to the Existentialists and the idea of Sisyphus and its myth (that Albert Camus well illustrated in The Myth of Sisyphus in 1942) that was represented by a man eternally pushing a heavy stone up a hill only for it to roll down it again and again. The same idea was used by Philip K. Dick in Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep (also known as Blade Runner). Heinz, not denying the hurdles and ordeals of each human being, accuses the powers and stupidity for that endless rebuke and suffering. The idea of absurd of modern life is impressed and carved in all of the Cataloguists’ works, alienation and the analysis of control of the public mass, control by corporations and governments, and are against inertia, conformism, normality, laziness of the brain, eye, hand and body >

22.2. The Method used by the Cataloguists is a reliquary of past revolutionaries in art and civil fighters for freedom and a very mixed use of previous other Movements (politic, artistic or social) even those contrary to the fulcral ideas of the group. Mao Zedong: if you want to know the taste of a pear, you must taste the pear for yourself. If you want to know the theory and methods of revolution, you must take part in revolution. All genuine knowledge originates in direct experience >

>>> there's no absence, if there remains even the memory of absence. memory dies unless it's given a use. if one no longer has land but has the memory of a land, then one can make a map > anne michaels >> ours is a society of alienation, not because it reduces people to misery or because it imposes police restriction, but because it seduces, manipulates and enforces conformism > alain touraine >

how splendid to be able to rebel at rallies in my soul!

but i'm no fool!

and i don't have the excuse of being socially concerned.

i have no excuse at all: i'm lucid.

don't try to persuade me otherwise: i'm lucid.

it's like i said: i'm lucid.

don't talk to me about aesthetics with a heart: i'm lucid.

 shit! i'm lucid.

> alvaro de campos (1928?) >>>

MANIFESTO-ANTI-MANIFESTO or the primacy of disembowelment – helás! >>>

 Everything is to disembowel, intromix-intromet, Jehovah jelly + no rules or conventions are the non-rule number one and Zeus + Allah + Amon-Ra – metaphor – war – doves – seductions and when and what. André not a lion but fluffy Breton=Paul Elouard_ANTONIN ARTAUD, Man Ray, Giorgio di Chirico, petite beau jean cocteau, Jean Genet et Rainer Werner Fassbinder 1946-1982; these are some of our loves too: Diaghilev + Nijinski faun Stravinski aprés-midi, Charlie Chaplin singing with Franz Kafka about the tonteries of signore Modigliani, all drinking frascati, O, and who’s going down the valley? Could it be mister shy, come, Andy Warhol 1931-187, Pablito womaniser good painter and the clay was divine Picasso 1881-1973, big nice moustache and limp clockwork and the first warhol around, Monsieur Salvador Dali and Gala! Applause from the audience. René Magritte, the one of flying men and mirrorless genitals; MILES DAVIS trumpet to afterlife; Pedro Almodóvar amor mio; Zeca Afonso of odes and guitars, saudades and illusions of revolutions chanting with the poets Ary dos Santos, Natália Correia, Gandhi, Nietzsche and the only Ludwig Wittgenstein, Francis Bacon on an evening in the Mouraria taberna drinking ginginha and eating sardines with peppers and onions drizzled with the planes’ olive oil of Greeks myths and horizons. There he is, Roger Bacon and breakfast with Teolinda Gersão + MIGUEL ROVISCO + José Saramago discussing and laughing very deep in absinthe the glories and joys of CONCEPTUAL TECHNO JAZZ; Benjamin Péret, Boris Vian, Stig Dagerman. Walter Gropius and William Morris hand in hand singing small bits of songs based on Iannis Xenakis and MICROTONAL EXPRESSIONISM; Al Berto and Mário Viegas, we love you, and Marguerite Duras and Derek jarman and Will Self and William Gibson and Dennis Cooper and Mark Z. Danielewsky and W. G. Sebalt and Péter Nádas and Camões and Shakespeare (why not?) and the Salmon that is Rushdie too, Maholy Nagi, Mies Van der Rohe blinking their eyes to Silva Vieira and Paula Rego. The four divas Maria Callas, Edith Piaf, Carmen Miranda, Marilyn Monroe having lunch with the four goddesses Amália Rodrigues, Sophia de Mello Breyner Andersen, Maria José Mauperrin and Marguerite Yourcenar >

[…] – 6 > Pretty much influenced by Oscar Wilde and the Sex Pistols, Lewis Carroll and Telectu, Frederick Rolfe and Yellow Magic Orchestra, Thomas Mann and Jackson Pollock. Much admiring John Cage, Stephen Spender having a picnic with Merce Cunningham dancing the BAUHAUS BOOGIE NEW AGE GLAM with Pina Bausch, Iris Murdoch and Virginia Woolf in Richmond Hill on the Terrace. Adoring Silvia Plath arguing with Ted Hughes not paying attention to Albert Einstein mad works after the quantum theories came out, hello mister Turing ORIENTAL GOTHIC TECHNO-TRANCE, careful with oranges and apples, and men, they are too precious, adoring too too much James Ulysses Joyce and Gavin Bryars talking about the blood of Christ that always let them down and the ABSTRACT PSYCHEDELIC DISCO…

[…] >>>

Immodest-mutation- NEO BLUES SAMBA ACID; morph-erudite-pop; persevering-insightful-cut-up-documentary + raw-pain-truth-doubled-reaction; subcontext-old-nu-school-orgasm; sex-faux-fashionable-obsession; trip-flesh-hop-power; iD-BANANAfish, blood-refusal-domination-rough-EXTERMINATOR+ existentialism-BLITZ: do androids dream with electric sheep, BLADE RUNNER – BILL –LEE; PINK FLOYD-FSOL-krafwerk … Christopher Isherwood, E. M. Forster, EZRA POUND, Paul Monette blood Mervin Peake bliss Bertrand Pembroke Lodge Russell/ …

[…] 3 > … Francis Picabia, the extraordinary Winnaretta Singer a.k.a. Princesse Edmonde de Polignac, Ricardo Viñez, Paulette Darty, Henri-Pierre Roché, Vincent Hyspa, Victor-Émile Michelet, Fernand Léger, George Auriol and the absolute gem and prolific J. P. Contamine de Latour in the Bohemian Cabaret and Parisian Art scene, especially in Montmartre >

RAYgun-communication >

sampladelica:   

egg-human-beatbox;

all-misunderstanding edge-fascist-castles;

muso-hyper-sampled-akusmatic-seascapes;

underground-morale-strictly-limited-bind-compile-celebration;

tech-interpretation-meaning-meaninglessness-e;

+ ELECTRO AMBIENT FUNCTIONALISM;

Eclecticism-THE-FACE-house-breaks-avant-garde-stratospheric-fuck + unsettling-malice annoyance-seminal-funky-hip-hop-rupture… whatever pleases the rough brain. […] ztt.com

ART of Noise said: Blessed are the noisemakers, take care of the sense and the sounds will take care of themselves. Otto Flake’s said too: at the end of the play, it’s up to you, the listener, the thinker, the master. You only live once! or/You don’t even live once! 1993 Philippo Marinetti ZANG ZUUM TUMB – Trevor Horn > Propaganda. DADA Futurismo as seen by Niponic Ryuichi Sakamoto: MILANO 1909. >>>

[…]

Balilla Pratella:

Manifest of Futurist Music 

I appeal to the young. Only they should listen, and only they can understand what I have to say. Some people are born old, slobbering spectres of the past, cryptograms swollen with poison. To them no words or ideas, but a single injunction: the end.

I appeal to the young, to those who are thirsty for the new, the actual, the lively. They follow me, faithful and fearless, along the roads of the future, gloriously preceded by my, by our, intrepid brothers, the Futurist poets and painters, beautiful with violence, daring with rebellion, and luminous with the animation of genius.

A year has passed since a jury composed of Pietro Mascagni, Giacomo Orefice, Guglielmo Mattioli, Rodolfo Ferrari and the critic Gian Battista Nappi announced that my musical Futurist work entitled La Sina d’Vargöun, based on a free verse poem, also by me, had won a prize of 10,000 lire against all other contenders. This prize was to cover the cost of performance of the work thus recognized as superior and worthy, according to the bequest of the Bolognese, Cincinnato Baruzzi.

The performance, which took place in December l909, in the Teatro Comunale in Bologna, brought with it success in the form of enthusiasm, base and stupid criticisms, generous defense on the part of friends and strangers, respect and imitation from my enemies.

After such a triumphal entry into Italian musical society and after establishing contact with the public, publishers and critics, I was able to judge with supreme serenity the intellectual mediocrity, commercial baseness and misoneism that reduce Italian music to a unique and almost unvarying form of vulgar melodrama, an absolute result of which is our inferiority when compared to the Futurist evolution of music in other countries.

In Germany, after the glorious and revolutionary era dominated by the sublime genius of Wagner, Richard Strauss almost elevated the baroque style of instrumentation into an essential form of art, and although he cannot hide the aridity, commercialism and banality of his spirit with harmonic affectations and skillful, complicated and ostentatious acoustics, he nevertheless does struggle to combat and overcome the past with innovatory talent.

In France, Claude Debussy, a profoundly subjective artist and more a literary man than a musician, swims in a diaphanous and calm lake of tenuous, delicate, clear blue and constantly transparent harmonies. He presents instrumental symbolism and a monotonous polyphony of harmonic sensations conveyed through a scale of whole tones—a new system, but a system nevertheless, and consequently a voluntary limitation. But even with these devices he is not always able to mask the scanty value of his one-sided themes and rhythms and his almost total lack of ideological development. This development consists, as far as he is concerned, in the primitive and infantile periodic repetition of a short and poor theme, or in rhythmic, monotonous and vague progressions. Having returned in his operatic formulae to the stale concepts of Florentine chamber music which gave birth to melodrama in the seventeenth century, he has still not yet succeeded in completely reforming the music drama of his country. Nevertheless, he more than any other fights the past valiantly and there are many points at which he overcomes it. Stronger than Debussy in ideas, but musically inferior, is G. Charpentier.

In England, Edward Elgar is cooperating with our efforts to destroy the past by pitting his will to amplify classical symphonic forms, seeking richer ways of thematic development and multiform variations on a single theme. Moreover, he directs his energy not merely to the exuberant variety of the instruments, but to the variety of their combinational effects, which is in keeping with our complex sensibility.

In Russia, Modeste Mussorgsky, renewed by the spirit of Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov, grafts the primitive national element on to the formulae inherited from others, and by seeking dramatic truth and harmonic liberty he abandons tradition and consigns it to oblivion. Alexander Glazunov is moving in the same direction, although still primitive and far from a pure and balanced concept of art.

In Finland and Sweden, also, innovatory tendencies are being nourished by means of national musical and poetical elements, and the works of Sibelius confirm this.

And in Italy?

The vegetating schools, conservatories and academies act as snares for youth and art alike. In these hot-beds of impotence, masters and professors, illustrious deficients, perpetuate traditionalism and combat any effort to widen the musical field.

The result is prudent repression and restriction of any free and daring tendency; constant mortification of impetuous intelligence; unconditioned propping-up of imitative and incestuous mediocrity; prostitution of the great glories of the music of the past, used as insidious arms of offense against budding talent; limitation of study to a useless form of acrobatics floundering in the perpetual last throes of a behindhand culture that is already dead.

The young musical talents stagnating in the conservatories have their eyes fixed on the fascinating mirage of opera under the protection of the big publishing houses. Most of them end up bad—and all the worse for lack of ideological and technical foundations. Very few get so far as to see their work staged, and most of these pay out money to secure venal and ephemeral successes, or polite toleration.

Pure symphony, the last refuge, harbors the failed opera composers, who justify themselves by preaching the death of the music drama as an absurd and anti-musical form. On the other hand they confirm the traditional claim that the Italians are not born equipped for the symphony, revealing themselves equally inept in this most noble and vital form of composition. The cause of their double failure is unique, and is not to be sought in the completely guiltless and incessantly slandered forms of opera and symphony, but in the writers’ own impotence.

They make use, in their ascent to fame, of that absurd swindle that is called well-made music, the falsification of all that is true and great, a worthless copy sold to a public that lets itself be cheated by its own free will.

But the rare fortunates who, through multiple renunciations, have managed to obtain the protection of the large publishers, to whom they are tied by illusory and humiliating noose-contracts, these represent the classes of serfs, cowards and those who voluntarily sell themselves.

The great publisher-merchants rule over everything; they impose commercial limitations on operatic forms, proclaiming which models are not to be excelled, unsurpassable: the base, rickety and vulgar operas of Giacomo Puccini and Umberto Giordano.

Publishers pay poets to waste their time and intelligence in concocting and seasoning—in accordance with the recipes of that grotesque pastry cook called Luigi Illica—that fetid cake that goes by the name of opera libretto.

Publishers discard any opera that surpasses mediocrity, since they have a monopoly to disseminate and exploit their wares and defend the field of action from any dreaded attempt at rebellion.

Publishers assume protection and power over public taste, and, with the complicity of the critics, they evoke as example or warning amidst the tears and general chaos, our alleged Italian monopoly of melody and of bel canto, and our never sufficiently praised opera, that heavy and suffocating crop of our nation.

Only Pietro Mascagni, the publishers’ favorite, has had the spirit and power to rebel against the traditions of art, against publishers and the deceived and spoilt public. His personal example, first and unique in Italy, has unmasked the infamy of publishing monopolies and the venality of the critics. He has hastened the hour of our liberation from commercial czarism and dilettantism in music; Pietro Mascagni has shown great talent in his real attempts at innovation in the harmonic and lyrical aspects of opera, even though he has not yet succeeded in freeing himself from traditional forms.

The shame and filth that I have denounced in general terms faithfully represent Italy’s past in its relationship with art and with the customs of today: industry of the dead, cult of cemeteries, parching of the vital sources.

Futurism, the rebellion of the life of intuition and feeling, quivering and impetuous spring, declares inexorable war on doctrines, individuals and works that repeat, prolong or exalt the past at the expense of the future. It proclaims the conquest of amoral liberty, of action, conscience and imagination. It proclaims that Art is disinterest, heroism and contempt for easy success.

I unfurl to the freedom of air and sun the red flag of Futurism, calling to its flaming symbol such young composers as have hearts to love and fight, minds to conceive, and brows free of cowardice. And I shout with joy at feeling myself unfettered from all the chains of tradition, doubt, opportunism and vanity.

I, who repudiate the title of Maestro as a stigma of mediocrity and ignorance, hereby confirm my enthusiastic adhesion to Futurism, offering to the young, the bold and the reckless these my irrevocable conclusions:

1.To convince young composers to desert schools, conservatories and musical academies, and to consider free study as the only means of regeneration.

2.To combat the venal and ignorant critics with assiduous contempt, liberating the public from the pernicious effects of their writings. To found with this aim in view a musical review that will be independent and resolutely opposed to the criteria of conservatory professors and to those of the debased public.

3.To abstain from participating in any competition with the customary closed envelopes and related admission charges, denouncing all mystifications publicly, and unmasking the incompetence of juries, which are generally composed of fools and impotents.

4.To keep at a distance from commercial or academic circles, despising them, and preferring a modest life to bountiful earnings acquired by selling art.

5.The liberation of individual musical sensibility from all imitation or influence of the past, feeling and singing with the spirit open to the future, drawing inspiration and aesthetics from nature, through all the human and extra-human phenomena present in it. Exalting the man-symbol everlastingly renewed by the varied aspects of modern life and its infinity of intimate relationships with nature.

6.To destroy the prejudice for “well-made” music—rhetoric and impotence—to proclaim the unique concept of Futurist music, as absolutely different from music to date, and so to shape in Italy a Futurist musical taste, destroying doctrinaire, academic and soporific values, declaring the phrase “let us return to the old masters” to be hateful, stupid and vile.

7.To proclaim that the reign of the singer must end, and that the importance of the singer in relation to a work of art is the equivalent of the importance of an instrument in the orchestra.

8.To transform the title and value of the “operatic libretto” into the title and value of “dramatic or tragic poem for music”, substituting free verse for metric structure. Every opera writer must absolutely and necessarily be the author of his own poem.

9.To combat categorically all historical reconstructions and traditional stage sets and to declare the stupidity of the contempt felt for contemporary dress.

10.To combat the type of ballad written by Tosti and Costa, nauseating Neapolitan songs and sacred music which, having no longer any reason to exist, given the breakdown of faith, has become the exclusive monopoly of impotent conservatory directors and a few incomplete priests.

11.To provoke in the public an ever-growing hostility towards the exhumation of old works which prevents the appearance of innovators, to encourage the support and exaltation of everything in music that appears original and revolutionary, and to consider as an honor the insults and ironies of moribunds and opportunists.

And now the reactions of the traditionalists are poured on my head in all their fury. I laugh serenely and care not a jot; I have climbed beyond the past, and I loudly summon young musicians to the flag of Futurism which, launched by the poet Marinetti in Le Figaro in Paris, has in a short space of time conquered most of the intellectual centers of the world.

Published in 1910!