Steve’s Stuff

I’m disappointed that I’ve used the term “deconstruction” in the title of my TASD project (see below) and *nobody* has attempted to call me on it! It’s one of the most controversial moves I could possibly make. The term is thrown around with such ease and misunderstanding that surely someone is skeptical enough to at least question that I know what I’m talking about.

It’s actually a bit scary because perhaps nobody has questioned my usage because they (shudder) feel that have a sufficient understanding of what deconstruction is. Yikes. I’m not saying that I’m the only person who actually understands it, but I can be fairly confident that after a few years of study and hundreds of pages of reading, I have a good handle on it. I am also in a position to observe countless misuses, misunderstandings, and misrepresentations of Derrida’s ideas.

I hope if someone is reading this, they’ll speak up to find out if I’m full of it or not. I welcome debate as I’m sure we each have our own view of postmodernism even if they’re essentially the same.

I’m risking pedantry here, but I feel strongly that we have an amazing amount of great words in the English language and we either a) use the same ones over and over as if the words “cool” and “sucks were the only words we ever learned; or b) use words with very specific meanings casually and generally without necessary understanding. Lets put an end to this sloppy practice and hold each other accountable for our language.

The central idea at work is the mixture of “high” art and “low” art. Where a traditional modernist position focuses exclusively on high art, a postmodern position is open to the use of so-called low art techniques. The term “disco” is being used to refer to a dance club environment and should not be confused with 70s disco music such as “YMCA” and other classics. A dance club is certainly out of place in an art gallery as it is a form of popular entertainment. By contrast, experimental sound design is right at home in a gallery setting. What happens when we combine them?

The dialectical tension between high and low art often achieves explosive results as is the case with the music of John Zorn or the cinema of Tarantino. While the issue is not unique to the postmodern era [William Grant Still’s “Afro-American Symphony” (1930) predates postmodernism by at least 30 years], postmodern philosophy takes a keen interest in the topic. The elitist high art community is a hegemony in need of examination with a very critical eye. Although Still used “blue notes” borrowed from the low art of jazz to great effect more than seventy years ago, this remains a highly controversial technique.

Deconstruction comes into play as we question the binary opposition of high art and low art. The institution of high art obviously defines itself in opposition to low art, while keeping it in a subordinate, inferior position. We are questioning this hierarchical value system as it doesn’t necessarily represent the authoritative position that it would have us believe it represents. Prior to the postmodern era, the ancient standard of quality, as determined by a select group of individuals, maintained a separation that, while effective in filtering commercial and other non-artistic products, also kept certain legitimate art forms from receiving recognition.

Electronic music is one such art form. Though it has roots in the popular dance club traditions of the late 20th century, this says nothing about the artistic validity of contemporary electronic composers working today. With this project, we are showing that although there may be superficial differences between what is commonly accepted as electronic art music and what is widely considered commercial electronic music, they are, in essence, very similar and thus both deserving of artistic recognition and criticism.

The plan for our project breaks down into three sections: music, lighting and sensing.

Music

Steve is composing original music. Some will be in a definite electronic dance music style similar to Techno, IDM (Intelligent Dance Music), and Drum ‘n Bass; some will be of an experimental sound design nature consistent with what is typically considered electronic art music; and finally, some will be a synthesis of these two styles freely combining elements from each.

Steve is using a variety of software tools for this composition including commercial software (Native Instruments Reaktor, Pro-53, and Absynth 4), and Pd. Most of the sound generation will come from Reaktor. Pd will be used to create a custom sampler and effects processor for both the live performance and the automated performance. The Pd patch will tie all the musical elements together and will translate sensor input to control various parameters.

Lighting

Since lighting and music is already an established tradition, we will not explain it further at this time. The lighting design will follow concepts explored by the music with the lighting consisting of a conventional dance club light show; a more experimental, artistic use of light; and an synthesis of the two techniques.

The lighting, as with the music, will be controlled by sensors placed around the performance space.

Sensing

We are exploring the use of light, infrared, and ultrasound sensors. The performance space will be divided into a number of segments and as spectators walk through the space, changes in audio and light will follow. The spectator will not be aware of the effect their presence has on the installation other than the fact that it is changing as their position changes. Sensors will not be continually receiving input and will thus be unpredictable to spectators. For instance, walking to the rear left corner will not always have the same effect.

Spatial sensing is difficult with a high volume of people present and will be more effective with a limited number of spectators present at any given time. Because of this, and because we are interested in live performance, the Final Friday show will be a live performance rather than an automated experience and thus will not use the sensor input. This doesn’t change our message and concept in any way. It is simply a different delivery method. Live performance only might even be preferable, but since the exhibit will remain up for some time, it isn’t practical to have an artist doing constant performances.

In From Work to Text, Barthes provides a very compact summary of the topics explored in S/Z (1970): namely, the idea of an open text with, not simply multiple possible meanings, but a simultaneous multiplicity of meanings. What Barthes referred to in S/Z as the “readerly text” becomes the Work and what was referred to as the “writerly text” now becomes the Text. Where the Work is a physical object that one can hold in three dimensional space, the Text is a living, changing, flow of signs that defy hermeneutic treatment. If in 2007

One interesting aspect of Barthes writing is the requirement of a meta-language to describe his ideas. He writes about the slippage and play of signification in the Text, but when he describes it in his flowing prose, he cannot afford to engage this play without sacrificing the clarity and direction of his thesis. The same is true of Derrida who is sharply critical of the Western supposition of logocentricity—he must resort to a meta-language in order to communicate concepts that he wishes to be interpreted in a very specific, “correct” manner. I can appreciate the difficulty of the situation and I forgive Barthes for being somewhat hypocritical in this way, but I wonder what a self-descriptive writerly text would look like. This relates back to the criticism of postmodern thinking in that if one calls for the resistance of absolute meaning, shouldn’t the reader also resist the meaning of the call to resist absolute meaning?

This is why Deleuze is so remarkable. His writing reflects his rhizomatous network of philosophical concepts. He encourages the reader to enter A Thousand Plateaus from any chapter, laughing in the face of the West’s obsession with teleological reasoning. Deleuze goes as far as to avoid absolute definitions of his many concepts (e.g. becoming, deterritorialization, the refrain) thereby sacrificing accessibility for a dedication to his ideas. This is a major sacrifice for any philosopher for, despite what some may claim, they surely wish to be understood (Lacan notwithstanding). Deleuze leaves the reader no choice but to jump right in and start because a definition of one concept always involves at least one of his other concepts.

Returning to Barthes, his reliance on meta-language is entirely forgivable because his ideas are so wonderfully stated. Even if the abjuration of logocentricity seems, in 2007, axiomatic, his statements of the ideas are clear, succinct, accessible, and useful. From Work to Text is nearly perfect as an introduction to the writerly and readerly text. If one wishes to understand this concept in greater detail and see it in practice, S/Z is waiting.

Pelzer examines technical reproduction, its rapid expansion in the twentieth century, and its ramifications through the philosophical writings by media critics, Benjamin, McLuhan, Debord, Baudrillard, and even a little Adorno. Because each of these thinkers did most of their work before the 1980s, and therefore missed the advent of personal computers and the explosion of easily accessible information via the internet, Pelzer provides some commentary and analysis of how history progressed in relation to each thinker’s forecast.

Both Benjamin and McLuhan saw great potential for the global dissemination of ideas, and Benjamin in particular, sees mass media as a means for distributing political ideology although his positivist perspectives failed to account for the inevitable subversion by the culture industry. Pelzer points out the failure of his overly hopeful prospects for mass media in relation to Adorno’s fundamental distrust of mass-anything. I personally find Benjamin’s idea of the “aura” to be his most interesting contribution as it predates Barthes semiotics. In S/Z, Barthes describes the complex and unpredictable nature a text where the signifier/signified relationship is called into question. Barthes’ idea of signifiers always leaving traces of other signifiers seems very similar to Benjamin’s idea of the aura giving a sense of something not entirely present.

Baudrillard provides an interesting idea of “hyperreality”, where simulations provide a level of reality beyond what one would normally experience in the same situation. The all-seeing camera allows the spectator to view every important detail of a situation in a super-human manner while providing and interpreting a wealth of information thus transforming the viewer into a Sherlock Holmes of sorts. Baudrillard is wary of the accessibility and increasing presence of simulations and fears that eventually society will begin to confuse simulated reality with true reality.

Pelzer makes the interesting point that most people will experience a situation vicariously through a TV show or film before actually experiencing it in real life. This is an interesting idea because this doesn’t seem entirely bad. There are many situations best avoided in real life. A simulated car accident serves to warn young drivers of the danger they will be facing once on the road, while protecting them from injury. Along the same lines, many people wish to travel and see the world, but are unable for a variety of reasons. An Imax feature on mountain climbing provides them a simulated journey that they themselves would never be able to take. It is once these simulations venture into the territory of the mundane that they become problematic. Virtual relationships are no substitute for the real thing and in this sense, Baudrillard is correct to be skeptical. Therefore, I conclude that we must approach these simulated experiences with a degree of caution and in doing so, we can enjoy the benefits they provide.

My main issue with the article is that Adorno is only mentioned in passing, while Pelzer would do well to read some of his work such as The Curves of the Needle (1927/65) or Opera and the Long Playing Record (1969). Adorno’s death in 1969 halted his long-standing project Towards a Theory of Musical Reproduction (2006), a book on the transcription and interpretive performance of music. Where the reproduction of a painting is simply a matter of taking a photograph and generating as many prints as desired, music exists as graphic notation (which may or may not be the most effective method of communicating the composer’s intentions) and must be realized, often with a variable degree of interpretation by each musician.

Although Adorno is primarily concerned with music, his essay, Opera and the Long Playing Record, is equally applicable to visual art. Adorno was strongly opposed to the 78 acetate records that could scarcely contain a single movement of a Schoenberg string quartet, but when the LP allowed fifteen minutes per side, Adorno offered praise. Furthermore, he argues that the LP is the ideal medium for certain genres such as opera for many reasons including the senseless attempts at modernization of sets and staging. Similarly, he states that “it is obvious that Mozart’s operas cannot be performed in oratorio fashion with an unintentionally comic effect” (248).

Changing the medium drastically effects the consumer’s engagement with the work itself, and not necessarily for the worse. Perhaps a work of monumental proportions, such as Barney’s Cremaster cycle is best experienced through a medium that permits multiple viewings over a period of time. How can one expect to comprehend ten hours worth of highly metaphoric film art without revisiting the work a number of times? Along the same lines, a work such as Michael Snow’s Wavelength, renown for its soporific nature, may be more effective viewed alone, free from the distractions of bored and restless spectators. A DVD would also allow the viewer to watch at multiple speeds, thereby possibly uncovering structural features that would be difficult to detect if sufficiently spaced during the performance.

Overall, Pelzer provides a concise overview of important media theorists showing the benefits and hazards of the burgeoning media industry. Just as Benjamin and McLuhan saw great potential, I too see potential, but as a disingenuous disciple of Adorno, I doubt it will work out that way.

Emerging from Jameson’s dense prose, I find the message: video art provides a “total flow” of meaning (meaning in a very qualified, postmodern sense) where signifiers are constantly in flux, constantly redefined, constantly re-contextualized, and where the only referent possible is that of indisputable historical fact, or in other words, the Lacanian Real. Thus, video is, as Jameson concludes, the ideal medium of transmission of postmodern thought. Over the course of the article, Jameson uses a particular video work, AlienNATION , to demonstrate his points. Jameson refrains from offering any sort of aesthetic judgment, preferring to describe video as a medium, to analyze interesting features, and to explore a variety of interpretive methodologies.

Jameson makes an important phenomenological distinction between video and film because where film (even art film) has a lengthy history of concept and technique, video is (at the time of his essay) slightly over twenty years old and thus doesn’t have the same foundations or expectations.

Although Jameson seems as neutral as possible, he has what appears to be a pessimistic view of the possibilities of postmodern textual manipulation. When he writes, “we are left with that pure and random play of signifiers . . . which no longer produces monumental works of the modernist type but ceaselessly reshuffles the fragments of preexistent texts, the building blocks of older cultural and social production”, he is presenting the situation as if postmodern works are doomed to randomly repeat segments of the past without any sort of intelligent design. While it’s true that, as Derrida shows us, we cannot reasonably assume any sort of logocentricity, if there was no possibility of, say, ironic juxtaposition, there would be no point in making postmodern works—they would just be meaningless jumbles of infinitely meaningful (and thus meaningless) signifiers.

In Intertextual Irony and Levels of Reading, Eco shows how he uses this freedom of signification to generate a surplus of meaning within his literature. Similarly, Tarantino’s cinema is filled with intertextual elements such as the briefcase scene in Pulp Fiction, where the viewer is reminded of the myth of Pandora’s box, the final scene in Repo Man, as well as Raiders of the Lost Arc. The briefcase scene generates at least three specific and purposeful meanings, hardly the random jumble that Jameson describes.

While Jameson may have a dim view of postmodernity in art, he does an excellent job explaining why other forms of interpretation fail to say anything useful about postmodern works. He writes that if the “ephemeral” and “disposable” text is the building block of postmodern art, then there can be little gleaned from an analysis of any one fragment. Similarly, no video work can be viewed in isolation from the whole of the video art world. He goes on to contend that though one may attempt to “sort the material out into thematic blocks and rhythms and repunctuate it with beginnings and endings, with graphs of rising and falling emotivity, climaxes, dead passages, transitions, recapitulations, and the like”, the result will be different upon every viewing.

Insofar as that is a true statement, is it necessarily a positive or negative characteristic of postmodern art? There must be a certain value to a work that allows one to return over and over again for a completely new experience. Again, Jameson language is telling: phrases such as “____ is reduced to” indicate that he doesn’t see this potential for varied readings as a positive characteristic because if the author cannot control the message, there must be no message and therefore no art in creation. I see the potential for multiple and diverse readings as an intriguing characteristic of postmodern art. Furthermore, this whole notion of interpretive impossibility is specious. Again referring to Eco, the author creatively engages multiple levels of signification and though there are always already infinite readings, certain readings make a lot more sense. Even if one cannot definitively state the “correct” reading of a text, one can find a range of readings that generate the most coherent and meaningful interpretation. Jameson is correct to poke fun at the standard interpretive question—“what does it mean?”—because this assumes a single “correct” reading, but just because there is no definitive reading, it doesn’t necessarily mean that there are no readings that are better than others.

The scope of Jameson’s article is, perhaps, its best feature. It’s fascinating how he manages to describe such a wide range of postmodernity in art while talking only about video art. If I take issue with certain points, it doesn’t mean that the article on the whole is flawed. Simply, everyone will approach the concepts of postmodernism from a different perspective and now I’ve presented mine.