Lately I’ve heard from many corners that there’s too much imagery out there, and that artists shouldn’t add more to the pile, but instead find new uses for what already exists. This strikes me as an insult to the whole history of art, and furthermore a dangerous lack of ambition. We will not remember Google Street View artists in a hundred years, or we won’t remember them for their Google Street View projects, anyway. Nevertheless, it’s true that there is a lot of imagery out there, and it’s true that there are gems to be found.
Here’s something neat. It’s anonymous, it’s unpretentious, it’s enormous and it appears to be relatively unknown. It is the Video Museum of City People. Here is the “artist’s statement” (edited for punctuation):
Here is collection of videos taken from cities around the world. I record video on the streets to see people of the town. Atmosphere of towns are affected by people. To record its atmosphere, I focus on people, not building and landscape. Attention!! These are boring; just videotaped on the street and upload them. No editing, no story, and not TV programs or movies that have a lof of interesting scene and exciting scene. Please understand these are just records, not entertainment.The videos are from cities like Tokyo, Hong Kong, Kuala Lumpur, Budapest, Tunis, Singapore, Delhi, Ljubljana, Berlin, Helsinki, San Francisco. Our anonymous globetrotter—who reveals only his or her country of origin (Japan) and hides behind a string of random letters—plops down their camera on a tripod and records a ten-minute snippet from crowded city streets. The author never replies to comments, and the account has one favorite video: the Lumiere brothers’ first films (1895). That’s refreshing, in the age of social media and personal branding and adsense and YouTube partnerships and ChipIn and Kickstarter.
It’s infinitely more engaging than Google Street View, since you can see and hear the movement of the crowd. It’s people watching for people who don’t like to go outside, and for all of us who can’t travel to Tokyo, Hong Kong, Kuala Lumpur, Budapest et cetera on a whim. The description is correct: it is boring. Nothing happens. And yet, if you let your eyes wander, if you stream it in the background, you begin to notice things. Hundreds of people in surgical masks walk through a Tokyo subway station. A young boy grimaces at the camera on a street in Hong Kong. Rickshaws swing by in Delhi. Dour-looking Eastern Europeans hurry past in Ljubljana.
There’s something of the obsessed collector in this, albeit an odd sort of collector: one who collects the likenesses of random cross-sections of city-dwelling populations. It truly is a museum. Someone has clearly put a whole lot of effort into this. There is probably hundreds of hours of footage up there, from all over the world. The YouTube account has 3 million combined views, which sounds like a lot, but really isn’t, when distributed across thousands of videos and six years. A small group of eager followers (around 1,500 subscribers at the moment) and random googlers are the audience. I don’t know what you’re getting out of this, anonymous Japanese globetrotter, but thanks for doing it.
Radiohead - 8-Bit Albums
Two classic Radiohead albums given the 8-Bit conversion treatment.
The mountaintop is as as is is
A Few Notes About the Poem #1: Ida Stewart:
The mountaintop is as as is is
by Ida StewartDisaster, asterisk:
another man’s treasure
island.My kiss-
your-sorry-ass-
goodbye goodbyeletters’ river-
ripple cursivewhen I’m feeling
wishy.My highway mirage,
your missed ache. or ashen mist
oasis.
Frank O’Hara (born 27 March, 1926; died 25 July, 1966), pictured above in a 1960 photograph taken by John Ashbery, in Biarritz
Morning
I’ve got to tell you
how I love you always
I think of it on grey
mornings with death
in my mouth the tea
is never hot enough
then and the cigarette
dry the maroon robe
chills me I need you
and look out the window
at the noiseless snow
At night on the dock
the buses glow like
clouds and I am lonely
thinking of flutes
I miss you always
when I go to the beach
the sand is wet with
tears that seem mine
although I never weep
and hold you in my
heart with a very real
humor you’d be proud of
the parking lot is
crowded and I stand
rattling my keys the car
is empty as a bicycle
what are you doing now
where did you eat your
lunch and were there
lots of anchovies it
is difficult to think
of you without me in
the sentence you depress
me when you are alone
Last night the stars
were numerous and today
snow is their calling
card I’ll not be cordial
there is nothing that
distracts me music is
only a crossword puzzle
do you know how it is
when you are the only
passenger if there is a
place further from me
I beg you do not go
(from The Collected Poems of Frank O’Hara, 1971)
First chapter of 72-min film set to Girl Talk’s All Day via @waxpancake
—This Fire of Autumn
Tindersticks - This Fire of Autumn
Gorgeous song from the Tindersticks from their new record The Something Rain which came out last week.
Synth Brittania
A music documentary made by BBC4 (shown a couple of years ago) takes a look at the origins of popular electronic music. From the BBC site:
Documentary following a generation of post-punk musicians who took the synthesiser from the experimental fringes to the centre of the pop stage.
In the late 1970s, small pockets of electronic artists including the Human League, Daniel Miller and Cabaret Volatire were inspired by Kraftwerk and JG Ballard and dreamt of the sound of the future against the backdrop of bleak, high-rise Britain.
The crossover moment came in 1979 when Gary Numan’s appearance on Top of the Pops with Tubeway Army’s Are Friends Electric heralded the arrival of synthpop. Four lads from Basildon known as Depeche Mode would come to own the new sound whilst post-punk bands like Ultravox, Soft Cell, OMD and Yazoo took the synth out of the pages of the NME and onto the front page of Smash Hits.
By 1983, acts like Pet Shop Boys and New Order were showing that the future of electronic music would lie in dance music.
Contributors include Philip Oakey, Vince Clarke, Martin Gore, Bernard Sumner, Gary Numan and Neil Tennant.
(Source: youtube.com)
J.G. Ballard’s hand-edited typewritten manuscript of Crash.
(Source: bookshavepores, via cantcopewontcope)
Wilco: “Misunderstood” Live (Time-Lapse Video)
Revisiting “Misunderstood” — a tune that never fails to make a Wilco show feel special — would be a welcome treat regardless, but throw some time-lapse photography depicting a trip to one hometown gig into the mix and I’m completely on board. Richie Wireman shot a host of images revolving around the band’s Civic Opera House concert in Chicago last December, shown here with a soundboard recording of said live favorite as the soundtrack. Watch/hear Wilco perform “back in [their] old neighborhood” above.
(Source: twentyfourbit)
