Archive for the ‘John Cessna’ Category

Eurocentricism and Art?-John Cessna

Sunday, November 23rd, 2008

This week’s readings boiled down to what we label as art, the lines we draw of what is and what is not. Mosquera wrote about eurocentrism and how the influence of one culture can extend throughout the world. The quote that really stood out to me was when this concept was applied to art in from non-western origins, “Today’s art in these cultures is not the result of an evolution of traditional aesthetics: its very concept was received from the West through colonialism.” I think this concept is one of incredible merit. I’m always looking at the world from a post-digital-revolution standpoint. Looking at the world that way, it’s clear how distribution of media in a digital world has made us all closer and more accessible. Yet since we are exposed to so much more these days, what do we call art? If a child in a 3rd world nation makes a drawing in MS Paint in their $100-laptop, do we perceive that any differently than the same drawing made by a child on their PC in SoHo?

 

Minh-Ha talks a lot about this struggle from the perspective of the artist. Do we create to explore? Entertain? Some mix of both perhaps? Italian filmmaker Pasolini often wrote about his “firing line of controversy” in his work. Essentially he was always playing with the notion of how much art he can get away with, while at the same time making something the public is able to digest. My favorite quote from this article was, “Don’t forget the people in the media are all very smart and creative, but the audience is invariably simple-minded.” because I really identify with that struggle. As an artist, how do I make work that appeases 3 audiences: my peers, my artistic-colleagues, and myself? It’s something I really wrestle with today in my photography. How can I make images that are interesting to those 3 audiences? How can I do work that is intellectually stimulating, self-fulfilling, and works for a market?

 

I’d like to think I’m making progress in this struggle thanks to grad school. If a work is strong in both conception and execution, it will keep those scales of audience vs. medium balanced. But then the worry becomes if the piece is too bland because I played it too safe to maintain the balance—by not taking chances, are we hurting our work long-term?

 

As you can see, this week’s readings have dug up a lot of questions in me, and I think discussions should be interesting because there were so many different facts of these readings that one could identify with.

 

My outside source for the week is a piece of cinematic art that I feel somewhat maintains a balance of the scales. It’s an Italian film from the 1930s called The Leopard.

 

Wiki:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Leopard_(film)

 

Trailer:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BcoAwC9r3Aw

 

The film is all about the emerging middle class in late 19th century Italy. Yet with its massive budget and international cast list (Burt Lancaster!), the film struggles to find a way to balance its Italian-centered message on the world stage. It does this via spectacle. If the audience can’t identify with the film’s Italian-centered meaning, they can get caught up in the massive battles and dance-scenes. I think that’s fairly clear from the trailer.

 

As a final note, I hate this movie. It’s something like 3.5 hours long and extremely confusing. Also the ballroom scene in the trailer, in actuality, is over an hour of the film.

Sunday, November 16th, 2008

This week’s readings were all about identity and race in art. How do we define it? Do we end our critique of the work on the canvas, or extend it back to the artist personally?

 

The “Cornered” piece by Adrian Piper was very interesting. It begins entirely about her, yet ends up entirely about the viewer. So often you see works in galleries that are very personal for the artist, but the trouble becomes crossing that bridge to make it personal for the viewer. Piper flawlessly integrates the viewer into her literal struggle and by the end, leaves them asking questions the average viewer wouldn’t with regards to race in art. This leads nicely into Wright Jr’s piece about the over-representation of Caucasian art in the mainstream. Piper’s piece is really aimed at the same white artists and gallery patrons that Wright Jr writes about. 

 

What I think both Wright Jr and Piper are getting to the fact that there’s clearly no white and black anymore. I use that as a metaphor to of course include all races and nationalities. As gallery-centered “fine art” becomes more and more under fire, the eye of the art world zooms out from the gallery to see other works in other communities, I think both Wright Jr and Piper want to make sure that the art-world isn’t quick to label it’s newfound finds as “African-American art” or “Native-American art”, etc. The point that both writers are making is that race-lines don’t exist. So as we move away from the gallery, don’t add qualifiers in front of a piece in order to categorize it into a sub genre. The piece isn’t a strong sculpture from a Chinese-American artist, but rather is a strong sculpture period. If there are no race-lines, there are no sub-categories of art.

 

I had a hard time finding an outside source for the week. Most of the artists I follow don’t really focus on race, but are rather motivated by time/place. I finally settled on something from John Waters. He’s a filmmaker/artist from Baltimore whose work frequently comments on struggles surrounding class, race, and sexual orientation in 60/70s Baltimore. Waters talks about how people are inherently the same, even in our differences. Our inner neuroses need to be embraced, since outer differences mean nothing.

 

Recently Waters has become a photographer, shooting images on his TV set of cult-films and comical messages he finds in modern broadcasting. Water’s photos do exactly what his films do: show non-mainstream society’s similarities with the norm, just in a different way.

 

http://www.amazon.com/Directors-Cut-John-Waters/dp/393114156X

 

http://www.designboom.com/trash/waters.html

 

So both of this week’s readings provided insight into a topic I think is becoming more and more prevalent in today’s art world: race. Both Piper and Wright Jr contend that there are no hard lines anymore, and because of this, the art-world is refocusing outside of the gallery, finally moving towards the mainstream acceptance of the counter-culture. I think class discussion on this should be pretty interesting this week.

Postmodernism-John Cessna

Sunday, November 9th, 2008

Readings about Postmodernism that talk about movies? It’s like this week’s selections were made just for me!

 

With that said, of course I enjoyed this week’s readings and I made several notes to use in my paper for the end of the semester. Particularly, I was draw into the Jameson reading. I thought his points were an excellent basis for establishing postmodernism, but at the same time, I feel his writing was kind of limited by time and his knowledge of production.

 

It’s clear to see this article is written from a dated perspective. I could tell this while reading, so I wasn’t surprised to find out it’s from 1984 when I looked it up after. Unfortunately, I think since Jameson referenced film so much, the dating of the article hinders its application. He makes a lot of great points, but they felt underdeveloped to me. His writings on film are clearly ahead of their time, and because of this, at some point, I’d like to read the full version of his book at some point.

 

In particular, the point I found most dated was one of his cornerstones of postmodernism: the death of the subject and individualism. This is an idea that was fostered in modernism in film, mostly thanks to the French-idea of director-centered films (as a response to the American studio system). But with the conception of more experimental techniques and MTV’s influence on editing, and production in general, there was a re-birth of communal based production, but no longer at just the high-dollar levels. So if the American studio system was expensive-communal production, and modernist movements like French new-wave were individual independent-based visions, then postmodernism becomes the synthesis of the two, with low-budget high-value communal based production outside a formalist system. The free-flowing nature of ideas in modernism meets the high production value of traditional processes.

 

I think this evolution that Jameson seems to miss out on is due to his lack of actual production experience. In the text he frequently references films and seems to base their classification solely on narrative structure. He talks about the period-pieces as a sub-genre, and goes into great detail discussing the differences between a movie made in the 1930s and a movie made about the 1930s, but if you’re making an argument about postmodernism, a movement which seeks to highlight the foundations of production which were so prevalent in modernism, you can’t ignore the physical production/presentation of a film, i.e. types of shots, editing, lighting, etc. Essentially there’s more to a film than the story, and there’s more to postmodernist film than the narrative, and I think Jameson’s lack of production-knowledge hurts him here. A final example of this is his referencing Godard. In realty, Godard’s later work could be considered postmodernist, but his biggest works, like 1960’s À bout de soufflé, are considered pinnacles of modernism in film.

 

So I enjoyed this week’s readings. They were challenging, and I really identified with the Jameson piece. But with that in mind, I’d like to read a bit more of his work and see how it’s evolved, especially since he focuses on film in such great detail. My external source for the week is the 2007 film Grindhouse by Rodriguez and Tarantino. I think it perfectly sums up Jameson’s point that postmodernism highlights the campy, b-grade, nostalgia of film.

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G0AaVUs3-Pw&eurl=http://video.google.com/videosearch?client=safari&rls=en-us&q=grindhouse&ie=UTF-8&oe=UTF-8&um=1&saiurl=http://i4.ytimg.com/vi/G0AaVUs3-Pw/hqdefault.jpg

Foucault-John Cessna

Sunday, November 2nd, 2008

Oh Foucault—I feel like this week’s readings were for the designers in the class. With past readings talking about crazy theories and subjective thought, there’s a good chance the some of the designers might have been pulling their hair out. But here with Foucault, there’s finally concrete theory on societal influence on production, which is something I think the designers might really identify with. I can see how his use of “techne” or  “a practical rationality governed by a conscious goal” could really appeal to the designer-portion of our class. Also I might be totally wrong and there will be an angry mob waiting to render a model of me beaten up. But with all that said, I personally didn’t really connect with Foucault.

 

Foucault’s theories were great and all, but for me personally, I only enjoyed a couple of his ideas. The first of these being his definition of utopias:

 

“Utopias are sites with no real place. They are sites that have a general relation of direct or inverted analogy with the real space of Society. They present society itself in a perfected form, or else society turned upside down, but in any case these utopias are fundamentally unreal spaces”

 

What really drew me in here was this idea that society is presented as perfect, or turned upside down. How could I not relate that to the suburbs? It seems to be all I think about anymore! This idea that what you see on the surface is perfection, but in reality is the exact opposite and eventually everyone needs to accept that. This theory seemed to apply perfectly, so I enjoyed that.

 

But beyond talking about suburban utopia, all Foucault really got me to do was think about space as it applies to my work. And for me, as a filmmaker and tableau-photographer, space is always something subjective in front of my lens. Space is something I change to suit whatever point I’m trying to make. So in that sense, Foucault’s views on societal-influenced spaces are shown in my work, only amplified to the ridiculous. If you’re making a statement on the 90s, the space needs to be made an extreme representation of that time.

 

My outside reference for the week is Anne Hardy. She’s a tableau photographer who works in constructed artificial spaces and I think really emphasizes this idea of subjective constructed space as art.

 

Her Wiki:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anne_Hardy

 

Some of her work:

http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www.saatchi-gallery.co.uk/imgs/artists/hardy_anne/anne_hardy_cell.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.saatchi-gallery.co.uk/artists/artpages/anne_hardy_cell.htm&h=519&w=650&sz=49&hl=en&start=1&um=1&usg=__ODX1×0aN2ZeveCDMceb0M6GNpMU=&tbnid=SIMIBZZlO87sLM:&tbnh=109&tbnw=137&prev=/images%3Fq%3DAnne%2BHardy%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26safe%3Doff%26client%3Dsafari%26rls%3Den-us%26sa%3DN

 

http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www.saatchi-gallery.co.uk/imgs/artists/hardy_anne/anne_hardy_Untitled_VI.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.saatchi-gallery.co.uk/artists/artpages/anne_hardy_Untitled_VI.htm&h=480&w=600&sz=46&hl=en&start=2&um=1&usg=__4VXdiHPnGQcMsQUbV75fkgOJnGM=&tbnid=ei4o4GBKiKS7IM:&tbnh=108&tbnw=135&prev=/images%3Fq%3DAnne%2BHardy%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26safe%3Doff%26client%3Dsafari%26rls%3Den-us%26sa%3DN

 

http://www.imj.org.il/eng/resources/press/images/image012.jpg

 

http://www.themorningnews.org/images/worlds_of_interiors/05.jpg

 

Hardy’s work dabbles in the sublime, but at the same time, she’s a master of creating a visual theme in her spaces, which comments on a larger society. This is especially true since her spaces are constructed mostly from junk and flea market items. So Hardy creates spaces that comment on society out of items society didn’t want and cast aside.

 

So while I don’t necessarily identify with Foucault, I appreciated the readings for how they made me consider space. I can use these readings in the future when I continue to construct spaces and staging scenes. After all, when building spaces, it’s easy to identify an idea by referencing the idea’s components, but in the end, Foucault shows how to truly represent an idea visually, one must understand where it came from and its motivations, rather than just its components. So I’m appreciative to Mr. Foucault for that. 

Lacan-John Cessna

Sunday, October 19th, 2008

In this week’s readings on Lacan, a couple different aspects of his mirror-image theory struck me.

 

Two begin with, as I’ve previously said, I’m always thinking about how these readings and practices can be applied to my work; how can they make me a better artist? In looking at the mirror image, I couldn’t help but think about the MFA process as a whole.  Getting an MFA is ideally a time of open exploration, finding one’s identity and ego through work, and one does this by personalizing said work. So in a sense we as infant artists are looking into a mirror for the first time. Tntrospective-practice was done on a small level as undergrads, but the MFA assumes you have the techniques down and can entirely focus on self-exploration, looking into the mirror uninterrupted. This might be kind of a stretch, but when I read Lacan’s quote saying that the process is “precipated from insufficiency to anticipation” I couldn’t help but thinking of how all first-year MFAs think they’re too insufficient to pass the review, and all third-years do is anticipate being done.

 

On a more serious note, the second concept that really jumped out at me was, of course, Lacan and Metz’s views on the mirror image’s application to film. Lacan seemed to argue that. Much like Debord’s definition of spectacle, the audience watching a film went through a communal mirror image process. Metz argued that Lacan’s theory on film was wrong because we as audience members don’t see ourselves on the screen. In this instance, I’m going to have to disagree with Metz, and somewhat agree with Lacan, specifically Baudry, and I think my opinions on both of their theories have to do with the society in which we live in now.

 

Metz argues that since we’re not physically seeing ourselves, the mirror image theory doesn’t apply. But our society now is completely driven by celebrity culture. We’re obsessed with fame a beauty, more so than ever. So while we’re not seeing our specific faces on the movie screen, we are seeing celebrity faces, which is a way of telling us what we should be, what look we should strive for. Our society tells us that what’s being screened is perfection, so it’s very much a method for establishing ego.

 

On the other side, I only somewhat agree with Lacan and Baudry. Lacan talks about screening a film as a communal experience, and Baudry takes it one step further, utilizing the master/slave metaphor to talk about how those in the theater are prisoners in a dark room. I think we share a film communally, but in the modern digital age, the process of screening a film is no longer a  entirely a shared one. The idea of the home-theater makes watching a film alone in your basement a reality. And in the actual theater, the introduction of the cell phone and mobile internet has become a powerful force in removing one’s self from the hypnotic trance of the film. This leads me to my outside reference for the week:

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kVcHhJD9bh0

 

The video was actually released by the Academy of Motion Pictures Arts and Sciences to promote turning phones off in theaters.

 

So this week, I kind of took a random approach to the readings. I was able to identify the mirror image theory with getting my MFA and of course had to talk about how it connected to film, but all in all, it was very interesting.

Freud-John Cessna

Sunday, October 5th, 2008

 

I have to start by agreeing with Stephanie, in that I found this week’s readings incredibly difficult as well. They felt like they were very much aimed at the professional psychologist, and not the artist. With this struggle in mind, I really tried to find a way Freud’s writing applies to my artistic practice, after all, I assume all this theory is supposed to make me a better artist in some way, and hopefully I’m not too dense to allow that to happen.

 

In attempting to do this, I was grabbed by this quote from Gay on the unconscious, “psycho-analysis demands nothing more than we should apply this process of inference to ourselves…” (575).  So if the purpose if reading and understand Freud is to make us more knowledgeable about ourselves and our actions, and the process by which we gain this personal-knowledge is inference, than the best way for us as artists to use Freud is by applying inference to our own work. We should create personal work that intrigues and speaks to us, and motivate that work’s evolution via inference, and in the end, find out more about ourselves.

 

With the revelation for Freud’s place in art in mind, I felt my external source for the week needed to be a specific piece by an artist who found success using this method. I naturally thought of Italian Film Director Federico Fellini. The man was a master of the created world, rarely shooting on location, rather building everything in large soundstages always with the surreal being more important than exact representation. While later in his career, Fellini became a diehard practitioner of the Jungian school; Freud heavily motivates his early work. He was known to keep notebooks next to his bed and draw his dreams when he awoke, which he later turned into his films.

These were actually published in a book titled Federico Fellini The Book of Dreams. A few examples:

 

http://www.latimes.com/media/photo/2008-06/39578282.jpg

 

http://www.latimes.com/media/photo/2008-06/39578281.jpg

 

I feel Fellini’s film Amarcord best represents this idea of artist delving into their psyche through their work.

 

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amarcord

 

Here Fellini completely re-creates his hometown on a soundstage as he remembers it and weaves a disjointed tale of growing up in this town, focusing on how he remembers his youth. This really fits into the idea of Freudian psychoanalysis because of how subjective the film is. Fellini didn’t do research into the town or the events he remembers from his childhood. The film isn’t a documentary, which would be a piece about the town. Rather the subjective and personal nature of the work allows the piece to be about Fellini’s psyche, allowing him to learn about himself via its conception and production.

 

So while at first, it was very difficult to wade through all of this Freudian psychology, I feel like finding a way for it to make me a better artist made it much more interesting, and with that viewpoint in mind, made some of the larger points a bit clearer. Instead of reading about the ID, ego, and super-ego, I was reading about how these 3 apply to my work. In class we often discuss how the readings apply to our disciplines, but in the future, it might be nice to talk briefly about how these readings apply to us as artists in the class before we do the readings.

Spectacle-John Cessna

Sunday, September 28th, 2008

Debord’s writings are truly that of a drunk-man. His thesis-esque lines paint a picture of a mid 20th century Frenchman pacing a room with a bottle, occasionally sprinting over to his typewriter for 30 seconds of furious genius, before resuming his drunken pacing. Needless to say, I like it, so even though I don’t have the alcoholic-motivation Debord did, I think it’s important to adapt his thesis-style writing in understanding his works, which I’ll attempt to do here.

 

While I like his style, his concepts are some of the toughest to understand that we’ve encountered so far. I feel his writings become a bit easier when you’re able to lock-down his definition of spectacle. This definition comes to light in his third thesis, “The Spectacle presents itself simultaneously as society itself, as a part of society, and as a means of unifications. As part of society, it is the focal point of all vision and all consciousness” (7). So as I understand it, in the eyes of Debord, spectacle is not just performance, but rather the unification of society in front of that performance. So spectacle isn’t the actor on stage, but rather the audience as a whole watching the actor. So then I have to wonder, is spectacle defined by anonymity, or a lack of individual responsibility? If 30 people stand on the side of a road and watch paramedics try to revive someone who was just pulled from a burning car, is that spectacle for those 30 bystanders?

 

I’ve always viewed spectacle as an act separate of motivation, not a communal ideal. Perhaps it’s the actor in me who sees spectacle as performance instead of spectacle as communal-observance as Debord, the critic, sees it.

 

But Debord doesn’t see spectacle as separate from motivation. To him, the craftsman does not make the chair and then sell it; he makes the chair to sell it. So to Debord, the ever-growing industrial world represents the death of spectacle. Increased mechanization and simplification of labor end up forcing all workers into a dual-existence of producers and consumers, with no ability to collectively observe fiscally unmotivated spectacle.

 

Because I’m ETB and I live over half my life on the Internet, I’m forced to wonder how this doomed-view of humanity changed when Debord encountered the Internet. Surly before his death in 1994 he considered the role of the modern-worker in a world of mass digital distribution. How does his definition of spectacle relate to youtube? A video that is literally seen by millions, but most likely viewed alone. He quotes Freud saying, “Whatever is conscious wears out. What is unconscious remains unalterable. But once it is freed, it too falls to ruin” (25). While I agree that once a concept becomes consciously mainstream, it’s most likely worn out its freshness, how does that apply to our modern society where the mainstream changes from second to second? We live in a world of instant messaging, micro-blogging, and RSS feeds. The worker in our era spends so little time hovering on a single concept, and through increased anonymity in the digital age, does that mean everything we see is not spectacle, since we share it in a digitally communal sense, or is nothing spectacle since all spectacle now is supported by capitalism? Facebook is defined as social networking, the ability for people all over to communally share events, pictures, videos, basically the definition of spectacle, but at the same time the site and community itself is valued at anywhere from one to eight billion dollars.

 

This week my outside source exemplifies the paradox that is Debord’s theories in the modern digital age: the viral video. As scary as it is to use Wikipedia as a source, they provide the best definition for a viral video:

 

A viral video is a video clip that gains widespread popularity through the process of Internet sharing, typically through email or IM messages, blogs and other media sharing websites.

 

So if a viral video is the modern spectacle, viewed on websites motivated by capitalism, I present the Kobe Bryant Hyperdunk ads:

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7hWJkdUMiMw

 

The video is fake. It’s produced to appear homemade and low budget, but is in fact done by a marketing company using computer animation and compositing. It’s a fake viral video that relies solely on spectacle to sell a product.

 

So in this post on Debord, I feel like I’ve asked a lot more questions then I’ve answered, but like I said when I began, I feel this is one of the toughest readings we’ve done so far, and if I don’t fully understand it, I feel like asking thought-out questions can only add to our class discussion and maybe help me understand Debord a little bit better.

 

Please don’t fail me out of grad school.

Walter Benjamin-John Cessna

Sunday, September 21st, 2008

This week we read The Work of Art in the Age of Technological Reproducibility and Other Writings on Media by Walter Benjamin. While I think his theories were strong at the time, I found his ideas to be somewhat hypocritical and shortsighted, only compounded by his shortened life.

 

To begin, I had to find a date on this article to understand its historical context. Since film is such a new, evolving medium, I feel any critical analysis of it requires even more historical context than average. Benjamin’s opinions made a lot more sense when I found out he wrote this in 1935-1936, and made me feel a lot more secure in the fact that I completely disagree with a lot of his points.

 

Benjamin takes aim primarily at film as he discusses an era of reproducible art. He sees film as the pinnacle of this notion. He goes so far as to say, “Film is the first art form whose artistic character is entirely determined by its reproducibility” (28). For starters, I have a problem with his over analysis and condemnation of a medium in its infancy. Film is only about 20-30 years old at this point, yet he feels the need to condemn its place in the world of art. He says, “What, then, are these processes reproduced in film, since they are certainly not works of art” (30).  At this point in film’s life as a medium, processes are still being established, systems of production being experimented with, rules solidified, etc. It seems useless to be hypercritical of a medium with no firm foundation.

 

Not only does he question an entire brand new medium, but also he’s extremely selective in his condemnation. He seems to judge the entire medium of film on the Hollywood studio production method, forming his entire viewpoint on film around a profit-centered mass-distribution sector of the medium. This is comparable to Benjamin questioning painting as a medium based solely on a smell-sect in its history, like the Impressionists. He eludes to the actor as nothing more than a piece of clay crafted by a studio system, yet at the same time praises Charlie Chaplin’s performances, ignoring the fact that Chaplin films came from a studio Chaplin himself owned and operated.

 

As I said earlier, I feel Benjamin’s views on film are extremely shortsighted, and this goes beyond his narrow view of film as a studio-system. Now Benjamin can’t be blamed entirely for this. Since he died during World War 2, Benjamin was unable to see film progress as a medium and to see how the mainstream changed internationally. A post-World War 2 film world would usher in Italian Neo-Realism (my outside source for the week:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Italian_neorealism

 

Neo-realism was a school of film based on real places, real stories, using unscripted people as the performers, not actors. And shortly after, the French New Wave began, focusing on long-takes and unorthodox editing, again addressing some of Benjamin’s chief complaints with the medium.

 

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/French_New_Wave

 

These two movements alone are proof that Benjamin’s expectations of the infant medium were premature. Had he lived to see them implemented, I’m sure he would’ve recanted some of his harsh words in this article. And beyond the immediate, it would be extremely interesting to see his reaction to the film-medium in a digital age, where one person with a computer can do production and distribution. But since he’s no longer with us, we’re left with this essay and forced to live with his limited theories. After all, someone who wrote, “Film has freed the physical shock effect” (39) clearly never lived to see any of the Saw movies.

Frankfurt School-John Cessna

Sunday, September 14th, 2008

After reading this week’s selections from Adorno, I find it very ironic that I read these selections and wrote this post from a film-set, the very medium which Adorno identifies as the center of the culture industry.

 

Adorno’s main point surrounded the idea that in a capitalist system where profit is the main goal, free art cannot exist, since the artist will always be influenced by the idea of selling his work. Eventually the artist will devolve into a system of creating work solely for sale instead of work that examines the human condition. As production becomes the main goal, the concept of skill and artisanship will be replaced by industrial mechanization, a death of skill and original creativity. In this system, the Culture Industry will tell the world what to buy/wear/eat/drink/listen to, etc.

 

While I agree with Adorno that profit inevitably serves to simplify a media and create a pop-culture system, I think his views are shortsighted. First his views on simplification of a media only resulting in its formulaic death have been proven wrong by the test of time. Film is a perfect example here. In the mid twentieth century, film stock and processing became more and more affordable. Smaller gauges of film allowed the regular consumer to make their own movies on 8mm, super8, VHS, etc. While this did increase the production of Hollywood films, exactly what Adorno said it would do, it also allowed a wider population access to the media that had never been able to before. So while the mainstream does flourish in mediocrity, and mass subculture emerges and redefines the rules and practices of the medium. And as the subculture grows and ages, it eventually takes over the mainstream. Super8 films of the 50s, with their handheld shots and quick-cuts were ignorant of the Hollywood mode of production, which eventually lead to the MTV-school and their use of videotape.  This progression continues today with the death of film stock and the introduction of the HDV and digital formats. My external reference this week is the director Robert Rodriguez:

 

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_Rodriguez

 

Rodriguez is at the forefront of the digital age of filmmaking. His company, Troublemaker Studios, is literally in his backyard. He shoots the films in old aircraft hangers turned sound studios behind his house and then edits the movie in his editing-bay above his garage. There are several in Hollywood who claim the transition from film-stock to digital is a simplification of the medium and since shooting doesn’t require the formalist training of stock, will eventually cause the death of the media. It’s clear to see that even in film, there are people in the Adorno school of thought.

In terms of creating a cultural industry where the population is force-fed what to buy, the fact that we are living in such an age is undeniable. In our era of celebrity, the concept of a person being desirable for their merit is nearly out the door. But Adorno again fails to address the idea of the counterculture in this society. The population of a whole will never be truly immersed in the cultural industry because there will always be people against it, e.g. whomever in our class posted that they don’t own a TV. The apocalyptic homogenization of the world that Adorno preached about will never truly happen. Simplification of media doesn’t mean its death, just reinvention by the same mass counter-culture that will shove off his cultural industry.

Historical Context-John Cessna

Sunday, September 7th, 2008

In Marx for Beginners, Rius uses an off-the-cuff writing style combined with a comic-like layout to guide the beginning theorist through the complicated writings of Karl Marx. The text is a summation of Marx’s personal origin, an explanation of his theories on social economic theory, and a bridges the gap of time from Marx’s era into the modern world, all culminating in a beautiful example of an artist’s approach to theoretical writing.

 

Rius begins his work by detailing Marx himself, especially his economic struggles which would in turn motivate his theories on class-based economics. Unlike the stereotypical image of the intellectual, publishing from ivory towers with no real-world experience, Rius shows Marx as an intellectual in the working class, struggling to afford food, and much like the working class today, unable to provide healthcare. This personal-background not only helps the reader identify with Marx’s struggle, but from the standpoint of our class, shows how providing personal and historical information around a work serves to strengthen one’s argument.

 

Rius continues by highlighting the important concepts and passages in Marx’s work, interjecting the occasional drawing to help keep the reader grounded in Marx’s deep-thoughts. Rius lays the foundation of Marx’s principles by proving that in a capitalist system, money is exchanged for labor-power/time, not necessarily skill. He amplifies this point by quoting Marx on the death of male-dominated, skilled workforce, and its replacement by an exploitive-workforce that ignores age/sex, “Differences of age and sex have no longer any distinctive social validity for the working class. All are instruments of labour, more or less expensive to use, according to their age and sex” (114). 

 

After establishing the socio-economic problems within Marx’s current time period, he goes on to explain how society had evolved from a primitive community, to slavery, feudalism, and finally arriving at capitalism. He talks about how the motivation for advancement is always spearheaded by the greed of the upper class. Yet Marx believes the next step will be advancement to socialism and must be led by the proletariat. He explains that “there can no longer be any wage-labour when there is no longer any capital” (118) and “The distinguishing feature of Communism is not the abolition of property generally, but the abolition bourgeois property” (117).  Marx asserts that the future lies in the hands of a unionized workforce party, and eventual revolution.

 

Rius concludes his piece by connecting the plight of Marx to the modern-era, showing how time is not enough on its own to heal the problems in a capitalist system. A great example of capitalist-flaws in the modern age presents itself in the 1999 film Office Space. Consider the following scene:

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MU15uvxuJqM

 

Here, the protagonist Peter explains that he sees no extra incentive by working harder (Marx’s surplus value) and that he only works hard enough not to get fired. These are classic illustrations of the principles Marx wrote about all those years ago, here seen alive and well in our new era, the skills of the proletariat redefined, yet still a slave to machines and continuing to sell their labor-power at a reduced rate.

 

Rius’s presentation of Marx is incredibly strong, providing both a comical, yet academic approach to interpreting Marx. The only place that lacks in the writing is towards the middle when Rius begins directly quoting longer Mark’s passages. Here it seems he abandons his translation of Marx’s text, and instead only chimes in to comment when he feels his readers are bored, and then only makes a joke or two to keep them going, rather than translating Marx’s heavy-prose for the layman. Yet, in the context of our class, this reading serves as an example of theoretical-writing and how one needs to approach the work, regardless of subject. An artist can sometimes lack the knowledge of how to approach a subject both artistically and academically.

 

In the second and third readings for this week, Marx’s achievements in helping create the foundation for critical theory are recognized and applauded. In Introduction to Critical Theory, Held speaks about Marx’s economic work becoming a staple for theory in all avenues of study. He provides a brief historical timeline of the real-world application of Marx’s work, going beyond Rius’ by showing the physical result of Marx’s theory. Held also stresses the importance of history when analyzing theory, “in order to grasp the axes around which critical theory developed it is essential to understand the turbulent events which were at the root of its founder’s historical and political experience” (16). But beyond simple economics, Held talks about how Marx had changed theory everywhere by explaining, “nature of reason, truth and beauty—but reformulated the way in which these had been previously understood” (15).

 

While Held’s article clearly shows the extent of Marx’s influence and how it applies to this class, and the role of a modern artist, Horkheimer’s Critical Theory stresses how economics have become a weight on critical theory. He goes so far to say, “The theory is concerned with society as a whole, but this broad scope is forgotten in economism where limited phenomena are made the final court of appeal” (249).  Horkheimer sees Marxist theory as important, and agrees with Held that it extends into all realms of thought, but clearly feels that one cannot center upon economics when theorizing other subjects. At the same time, he shoves off the utopian ideal that Marxist philosophy is powerful enough to solve the world’s problems, not just economically, but across the board. He writes, “a philosophy that thinks to find peace within itself, in any kind of truth whatsoever, has therefore nothing to do with the critical theory” (252).

 

Taking these three articles into account, it is clear that Marx wants the theorist to understand history and examine the world through a class-centered lens, and with modern works like Office Space highlighting his exact ideals, it is clear that Marx’s approach has validity. Held’s reverence for the work of Marx addresses our course through historical examples and preaches how the ideals of critical theory extend to all schools of thought and practice, while Horkheimer reminds that for one to be truly critical, one cannot be weighed down in economics, but, like Held says, extend their vision to all fields. Horkheimer asserts that in the end, to be truly successful, one can never accept any theoretical concept that promises peace within itself. Rather, he challenges the theorist to accept Marx’s method, but apply it to all of life, never stopping to accept success. These three articles serve as an excellent foundation for the course, combining to provide a strong critical theory foundation (Marx), a history lesson displaying how that foundation grew into the real world and where it stands today (Held), and finally a warning to avoid certain pitfalls in practicing these theoretical methods when applying them in our own work (Horkheimer).