By the end of the millennium, record labels were already establishing a globalised market, selling a record amount of albums (with ever lower costs of production mostly due to the emergence of new recording technology, namely the CD), and thus gaining momentum at driving emotional and attentional investments of their consumers with a handful of intricately formulated strategies of sonic construction. The challenges of the internet and the emergence of digitally compressed audio files (MP3) coupled with new internet technologies of dissemination of such files (such as Napster, Gnutella, Freenet etc.) may have somewhat hindered the growth of the industry, but not without also considerably expanding the dissemination of its products (and with it their influence and reach).
It is in this climate, specifically in 2001, that the Australian pop sensation Kylie Minogue released her 8th studio album and with it the single “Can’t Get You Out of My Head” that ended up defining the pop scene of the decade. The album and the single could have been met by a similar destiny as that of the 8th studio album by Mariah Carey — the success of which was hindered by its unfortunate release on September 11th 2001 —, if it were not for its gradual international release (on September 8th 2001 in Australia, on September 17th in Great Britain and only on February 18th 2002 in the USA).
Domen Ograjenšek, Untitled, 2018, photo: Luigi Cazzaniga.
Dergančeve fotografije v črno-beli izvedbi dramatizirajo to, kar je očitno, ne implicitno. Tako se vsaj sprva zdi. Oblikujejo tri tipe gledalca. Proces, ki sovpade s tremi shemami pogleda in teoretičnimi okvirji, ki jim ti pripadajo. V skladu s tem se nadalje oblikujejo trije tipi branja in sicer okoli strukture, ki se jo da razdeliti na ospredje, ozadje ter njun prehod.
A short reflection (the second in the series) that focuses on the dynamics of the surface in contemporary art, specifically the recent tendency to patch that, which is in no need of patching, and the specific contemporary anxiety that accompanies it.
The world is in need of healing, it is often said. From over-the-counter food supplements that help combat burnout to the anxiety-re-ridden teenagers re-actualising the subject of depression via the prominent rise of sad rappers such as XXXTentacion, in a preachy way Logic, and others (not the most exhaustive list, but burnout draws out even these very fingers doing the typing), we are hurt, hurting, and don’t know where the bottom of this pit of hurt lies.
The short reflection focuses on plaster as a materialisation of the paradox of abstraction within the formation of contemporary artistic positions.
Plaster, used both for protective and decorative purposes in walls and ceilings, meets contemporary art on the intersection of the aesthetic and pragmatic, mostly due to its soft white aesthetic characteristic and fragile kinetic effects. In this short reflection, I will take a look at two artistic practices that both use the mentioned building material in order to explore various layers of destructive, even self-destructive, principles and phenomena of contemporary society. From death drive to the autonomisation of capital, the practices brush over multiple sides of what it means to fail at being ‘human’.
The practices at hand are namely that of Lenka’s Đorojević and Matej’s Stupica, I will focus particularly on the works ‘Neur-o-matic’ (2014) and ‘Mon-o-matic’ (2015), and that of Evelyn’s Loschy, concretely, the kinetic sculptures (2012-2016).
A short analysis of performances by Špela Petrič. The article touches on the difficulties of confronting plant life, the pros and cons of figurative means of expression, and the stubborn vestiges of anthropocentrism.
In the era of ecological devastation and shifts giving rise to looming designations such as the Anthropocene, the vegetative reinstates its ascribed monstrous character, its role as the dark precursor on the illuminated pathways of our humanistic heritage. Amidst the post-modern nomos of the endless surface emerges a depth of vast magnitude, easily utilisable by the romantic enthusiasts as a possible return to the various origin-seeking endeavours and explorations of mysterious potentials of affectivity, although thereby yet again cultivating the expressive productivity of this ‘dark precursor’ by mistaking it for the sublimity of human affection.
To approach this alterity would, therefore, mean to accept its threat in full scope. Approach it without sidetracking too deep into the comforting paths of human experience. But what if our starting position for such an endeavour is that of art? What can or cannot art do for such an approach? Can art do without its inherent anthropocentric core? And what would become of art if it were reinvented in light of the conditions of these newly explored terrains?
A short walk through the practice of the Vienna-based artist, Nicole Prutsch
Image courtesy of Nicole Prutsch
Working with seemingly different methods of the present and past, including the ‘scientific method’ and methods of art practice, Nicole Prutsch follows their subtle commonalities that surround their otherwise disparate constitutions. She utilises the luring effects of unexpected juxtaposition, resembling the distant surrealist play with the unconscious, to create a visual genealogy of the method, the methodological and the role of the gaze in the latter. Continue reading “The Grammar of the Method”
Andrej Škufca, Živa Božičnik Rebec, Kladnik&Neon – Next of Skin
Glass atrium of Ljubljana Town Hall
Image courtesy of Lara Žitko
Mute — not even speech as the thinkers of politicality of excluded minorities would put it, but mute uncommunicable, radically private (exempt from any possibility of equality or commensurability) — situatedness, determinable only in the context of a private sense, a sort of sensus privatus that even for Kant results only in madness.
And what is madness, for instance in the context of the psychoanalytic situation, if not putting into speech the unspeakable, the transition of an a-communicable neurotic into the communicability of analysis? The reading, the mapping, and the speaking. The path from sensus privatus to sensus communis. — Even as Kant’s certainty of common sense, the cognitive base of communality and sociality, the implicit presupposition of a naturally present and correct thought that founds its critique not only in Nietzsche but following his lead also in Deleuze, gives way to a sort of common non-sense, …
… The assertion of communality seems to persist. Which could also serve as a cynical ‘good riddance’ to the exhibition Next of skin that finds itself even more communicable at its attempt of a-communicability: in the neatly coded context of an exhibition space, an exhibition event and most importantly a conversation piece, where the snares or the obstacles (which the exhibited artworks present) fuel only the most frivolous conversational giggling of young cultural intellectuals. Continue reading “– the cords”