We've been thinking about methodologies and anti-methodologies for getting at how words and things relate with one another. Interdisciplinary work, negative capability, multiple teachers, students with various backgrounds, diverse texts, and even the workings of this blog all play a hand in this.
This morning I was reading a translation of Jacques Dupin's three essays on the sculptor Giacometti, two of them translated by a friend of mine, Brian Evenson (whose work we'll discuss near the end of the class), and found these thoughts about how to approach the sculptures with words:
And in fact the written word, condemned to deviousness, tries desperately to find the sudden approach again and is tormented by nostalgia for it. It tries to recreate the strangely active space of that work by attacking it from several sides, as one reconstitutes illusively the unity of a sculpture by multiplying one's vantage points. In its fragmentary pursuit it takes the same path a dozen times, while certain areas remain inexplicably barred to it. Too close to its object, it petrifies and consumes it; too far away, it loses its way and disintegrates in a maze of expectancy that has no beginning. Entangled in lacunae and contradictions, it leaves behind nothing but the muddled traces of an approach, scattered fragments, the least significant debris, spared by the flames, of an imaginary edifice which had to be abandoned.
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
Giacometti: Three Essays by Jacques Dupin
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11 comments:
This quote fits perfectly into what we've been discussing!
This reminds me of your essay "The Semiotics of Young Werther." Perhaps the purest communication is to simply sit down, in silence, and stare at the sculpture. To me, there is both a sadness and a beauty to that picture.
Then again, something occurs to me: can you even escape language in silence? Doesn't language act as a mediator, facilitating interpretation between experience and meaning? In my deepest moments of silence, am I ever tapped into a force superior to language? Aren't emotions also language? It seems that everything is regulated by language.
I think that so much good comes of scraping at the surface of language, attempting to uncover the essence that lies beneath --- the more angles, the better.
Great post. I agree with the previous comments. To add to Torben's comment I would say that in silence I am sometime drowned by language, thoughts and emotions. There is really no escaping.
What a great post and such powerful words in the review of the sculpture!!! It explains what I was trying to explain in the previous post so well! I love the part that was talking about distance..."Too close to its object, it petrifies and consumes it; too far away, it loses its way and disintegrates in a maze of expectancy that has no beginning." That perfectly describes what we are talking about! It communicates being at a certain distance when experiencing things. Not to close, not to far away. Enter the experience, be vulnerable, but don't let it obliterate you or take control of you, be able to walk away from the experience having perceived something new!
Remember in class when Luke mentioned that he was hesitant to enter experiences such as these (magickal, irrational, absurd) for fear that it may take over (and whether they are inside or outside forces)? I also have this fear. I'm not so much afraid of it taking control of me as I am afraid of it de-sensitizing me. I feel like much of the purpose of these experiences is to sharpen the senses and open your perception and become more observant and perhaps more empathetic. What do you all think?
I think that sometimes these experiences stop affecting me and that is when I know I have to interact with the experience differently, more carefully, or to just remain AWARE of what is going on.
Torben made a comment on the post that I made just before this one (Universality...) about watching films that stretch him and how "they have a way of shedding light on my vulnerabilities and fears". The films, music and other art that I seek out also stretch me in a similar way. When I can experience the film, art-piece, or music completely...without filters or defense mechanisms, then those vulnerabilities and fears are overcome in a way. What a beautiful catharsis it is when it works!
As a sidenote to all of this: David Lynch's new film "Inland Empire" nearly squashed me to death. I wanted to leave the theater so many times (I'm not really sure why), but when it was over I have never felt like I had been through so many different feelings and emotions. It was sensory overload, I had forgotten that a film could make me feel so much...mostly panic and fear. Afterward I felt really free from fear and panic...very in control of my feelings. I almost lost control in the movie though, I wouldn't have had the same experience if I had left or if it had freaked me out completely. If you watch it stick it out...lights out at high volume. The physicality of the sound is important, so it needs to be playing quite loud. If you aren't familiar with his films you may want to start with one of his others first!
I've also seen Inland Empire. Actually, I watched Muholland Drive and Inland Empire back to back :) Now, that's sensory overload! :) I think David Lynch works in this "ambiguous field" we've been discussing. I think that people who seek to understand the meaning beneath a film like Inland Empire, are somewhat missing the point. The thing that makes his films powerful is the experience and the journey through ambiguity. I'm not saying that he doesn't have underlying themes, but I don't believe his films are supposed to be viewed with a linear, structured approach. I think he is tinkering around with the same ideas we've been discussing.
Travis has reminded me of a piece of a manuscript I'm writing, begun after the death of my brother John, of AIDS:
“A boy he picked up in his Alfa Romeo sports car ran him over with it and left him helpless in the dust. . . . Pasolini spent so much time in the lower depths because he found them ethically preferable to the heights.” So writes Clive James in the New Yorker. I’ve been seeing John as the victim of a sordid accident, and in some romantic way more moral than the rest of us. Ten years ago Zarko and I argued about Pasolini. In response to what he called my moralizing, Zarko maintained that an artist can’t restrict himself. He must experience everything. As soon as you refuse to experience you close yourself to the sources of art. Pasolini is profoundly subversive, as is art. If you can’t stomach Pasolini you’ll never be an artist. You’ll end up a repressed, reactionary, unfulfilled, narrow-minded, bitter, bourgeois shell of a man.
I responded that his string of adjectives exemplified moralizing; and quietly I feared he might be right.
I wanted to note that it is about how you interact with the experience not what the experience does to you. Or maybe both are important...yeah. Like for instance...when I was in the theater watching that film...in my comment I said that the film was freaking me out and that I wanted to leave...IT wasn't freaking me out completely. Well it was...but I was also allowing it to do what it was doing. I just needed to stay in control enough to get through the experience. What I wanted to communicate was that it was a relationship, not one dominating over the other.
Funny...we posted at the exact same time. That is a great story in your comment, Scott (about the thing you are writing in your manuscript). I'm going to think about that for awhile...
And in response to your Lynch comments, Lyn and I saw "Eastern Promises" this weekend. David Cronenberg similarly (and differently) squashes viewers to death (with the caveat you just posted, that it's a back-and-forth, call and response, not just something being done to someone). I simply had to look away several times, which was probably worse than watching the violence; but the way the film troubled me was, and still is, good for me.
Somehow I didn't see your last comment, Torben... I agree with you when you say that gripping for meaning in a Lynch film is useless...it is about that experience. I also agree that he is definitely thinking about similar ideas that we are talking about. I've also been meaning to go see Cronenburg's "Eastern Promises"...I also looked away a few times in "Inland Empire" (which ended up being worse than just watching). Eastern Promises is playing over at Broadway in SLC which is right by where I live. I'm excited, I'll have to go see it tonight or tomorrow night!
In response to Scott's comment about his brother John, Pasolini, and the conversation with Zarko...
I was listening to an interview with Werner Herzog on NPR a month or so ago and I think he would probably agree with Zarko. Herzog was saying how he tries to expose himself to everything that he possibly can, the most brutal things, the most beautiful, the most absurd, etc..."even the Anna Nicole show and the WWF wrestling"...as Terry Gross laughed out loud she asked him "why?", Herzog said "because the poet must not avert the eyes, ever."
I'm still not sure what I think. I probably tend to agree with Zarko and Herzog...it seems as though Scott does to (..."quietly, I feared he (Zarko) might be right"), but maybe didn't at the time of his conversation, or wasn't sure at that time.
On top of all of this...an artist restricting their experiences is one thing...but an artist restricting when expressing, creating or performing...what about that? Does a level of control need to be maintained when creating/expressing/performing in order to be in any way coherent?
What do ya think?
(Can't wait for class discussions on DADA...can't wait for discussions on censorship...)
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