Postmodernism and modernism?
Michael
postmodernity what modernism was to modernity? How true is it?
James Whitehead
<sweet...@hotmail.com> writes
>What do you think about the thesis that postmodernism is to
>postmodernity what modernism was to modernity? How true is it?
I not sure what you mean by how modernism relates to modernity - do you
mean something like?
"The term modernity, more recent critics now suggest, should be used to
distinguish between the historical, cultural, economic and political
conditions of the time and modernism, which signifies the literary and
aesthetic representations of (or responses to) those historical
conditions. "
In which post-modernism is the cultural representation/ reaction to
post-modernity.
My only arguement with this is that it supposes that art is a reaction
to events and not the instigator of them. i.e. it proposes that
something (technological progress?) causes cultural change. It might
well be the other way around, which perhaps would better explain why
science for instance developed in the way it did. Its been suggested
that a certain monotheistic Protestant culture was the cause of the rise
of science in the west. It would be nice to think that post-modernity
was the results of certain nihilistic thinking back at the end of the
19thC.
--
James Whitehead
Kristian Kirsfeldt
discussion about the, um, art-farce does not risk of stumbling upon
ignorance, one does still find miniscule re-appearances of the beastliest
moments that occurred some years ago during some cocktail-parties and the
early-early-afternoon g&d sessions. I would not go as far as to say that the
tedious architects that plagued those events have started re-appearing, but
one does from time to time sense the same intellectually knackered
appearance in some discussions--good Lord, I do not want to accuse this
young fellow here making a somewhat honest inquiry of being an architect,
but, well, on the basis of these questions the resemblance is rather
striking.
Quite, it can be somewhat disturbing to recall the memories of those days,
but one must be able endure all the uncomfortable feelings that arise from
re-discussing those pre-mentioned unhappy social sessions. Those events to
be discussed took place during the time when xerography had just gone out of
fashion in the art-world, that certain German chap was still growing bees
and fat; and young fellow Hirst was nothing more than a butcher's
apprentice--well, I remember it was one of these occasions when someone made
the fatal mistake of calling one of those ghastly architects an 'artist
'--only insulting real artists and confusing the poor architect--and started
the routine of explanations, that is, explanations of what to regard as
inferior art and what to regard as superior art; explanation, which, even
though I do shun even at the thought of repeating, I will repeat for the
benefit of this wonderful audience.
Well, this formal and very impersonal presentation was given to anyone
admitting of being fascinated in 'Bang-Boom' or--heavens forbid!--in French
bathing beauties; and the thing went somewhere along the following lines:
First, there was presented a little WWI song. It was a most remarkable song
that had been sang by British soldiers in the ditches during the long
periods of inactivity and it went like this:
'We're here because we're here because we're here because we're here--
we're here because we're here because we're here because we're here'
It was then analysed that the whole package: the words, the
linking-engulfing pairs of '-- because --', the rhythm and melody; every bit
of it was acting it's part and thus forming a very solid, good-looking and
intellectually boring thing. Now, this was the disgraceful sort of art, the
inferior Old.
If the architect--for it were mostly architects to whom this routine was
repeated--well, if the chap still seemed to be conscious there was presented
another piece of--what they called--art, something from a contemporary
author, presumably French and presumably leftist. If they wanted to apply a
certain knack to the routine, /no/ explanation followed and instead the
unlucky seeker was punched in the face or belly without a warning; or
punched in the intellect by suggesting that the poor chap should now think
of 'something entirely different from the first song--and at the same time
not thinking at all, for this is the superior art!' For a wider
explanation-hungry rabble them artist-fellows introduced the custom of
pasting--once very popular and compulsory--A4 next to every work of--what
they called--art. In fact, those sheets of paper can be still found in use
in the art-rooms of the most undeveloped countries; labelling the users of
these A4-s ignorant of change is not as arbitrary as all of the other labels
presented here, oh no, it was just that this practice of endeavouring
individual explanations was replaced by one much more economical standard
formula; devised by, I seem to remember, old chap Kosuth in early sixties.
The standard supplementary to these superior pieces of--what they
called--art, was the following:
A Disclaimer
I, the Author, disclaim any connection between me and this piece of--what
I call--art.
A Claim
My piece of--what I call--art, claims that it has found the everlasting,
easy-to-understand and a jolly fine way to end the endless chain which is to
follow:
A Disclaimer
In fact, I disclaim any connection between myself and this piece of--what I
call--art even on the basis of having them connected in this disclaimer; AND
I disclaim any connection between myself and this piece of--what I call--art
even on the basis of having them connected in a disclaimer disclaiming any
connection between myself and this piece of--what I call--art even on the
basis of having them connected in this disclaimer; AND ...
The latter claim of having found a non-violent solution to the /circulos
vitiosus/ was, of course, I lie; it was supplied there only for the purpose
of making an advertisement in order to get some curious yokels to visit
their exhibitions.
As the standard routine for explaining the difference between inferior and
superior art has been now repeated, all that is left for me is to simply
hope that the young fellow here asking all these amusing questions will
revise his knowledge-base contrary to those pre-mentioned architects who
never did so; and what a rabble they have developed into!
Ah, well, now that those mental happenings, which they call 'endless', have
been mentioned I fancy there will be amongst us some fellows who call
themselves 'mathematicians' for some reason or another; and these odd
fellows usually have the tendency to pose one of their own solutions to this
problem here. What they usually do is this: when an ordinary sensible chap
is right in the middle of stating 'AND I disclaim any connection between...'
they usually shout out 'oi! what a splendid dunce you are, you! Stop it
immediately for can't you see, for heaven's sake, that it can all be reduced
to nothingness!', that's what they'll tell you. 'Can't you see it's rather
futile to keep up this nonsense while an infinite amount of repetitions
compared to ANY of the 'connections', which have been troubling you so much
render these connections extinct.' Having heard this, there is no need to
repeat that any ordinary fellow feels quite guilty of wasting the precious
time of a great minds as that of a mathematician and will present no further
arguments to support his or her own effort. I have personally observed once
or twice such a clash of words and I have seen the beastly effects of a
mathematician's arguments on a regular fellow--and I can assure you--the
sight is by no means pretty. In fact, these mathematicians have by now been
able to infiltrate their thoughts into the masses. Their thoughts have
entered the minds of ordinary peasants so that even a schoolteacher will
nowadays shout 'Positive whole numbers!' as an interruption each time a
school-child gets carried away by citing
'one-two-three-four-five-six-seven--'.
It is true that even school-teachers solve the problem of endless
repetitions blindly, following only the devilish though-schemes of the
mathematicians and a child caught in the middle of going from one to
infinity is therefore called rather abruptly to a halt at 'ten', 'twenty' or
perhaps 'one hundred!'--a tardy call being the result of a teacher having
weak observation-skills or not being a big fan of mathematicians.
I assume it is a case of wishful thinking when one hopes that mathematicians
could start listening through endless repetitions without unnecessary and
unfounded interruptions; or started going 'one-two-three' by themselves. It
could be even regarded as an ideal world or a semi-utopia where all of the
mathematicians stopped doing their usual silly things and concentrated all
of their efforts on 'one-two-three'. Ah, it would be splendid, as the
majority would keep the 'one-two-three' locked away and happy; in fact; both
parties would be happy--the majority happy for locking up the
'one-two-three' and the mathematicians happy for going 'one-two-three'.