Archive for April 2006

A Note

Found today in a 1998 notebook:

As cultural professionals, you or I should study all the things, regardless of whether they speak to us on a deep personal level. But generally speaking, you only need a couple of paintings, a couple of poems, a couple of pieces of music to last a whole lifetime. I have succeeded if a person walks away with one image, one thought, one realization, one feeling that they can use in their life, even if they can’t remember my name, the names of the pieces, or how many they say. – Bill Viola

On my critique of The Star’s Dumb Ideas

[…] Christopher Hutsul (or Christopher the Younger, as we like to call him) argues for ways the city can nurture its creative communities, including decriminalizing graffiti. Local “thinker” Timothy Comeau critiques this suggestion and many others on Good Reads.

Ron Nurwisah, Torontoist 17 April 2006

Toronto the Lame

Toronto isn’t the best place to live right now. With the two centerpieces of this city’s culture currently undergoing renovations, and with the Power Plant gallery continuing to highlight just how irrelevant and uninteresting most contemporary art is, I find myself bored more often that I’d like to be. But the talk is of a cultural renaissance and the city is looking for some kind of vision for itself. One problem: this is the corporate centre of Canada, and corporations are lousy at vision. Look at advertising – it has become the dominant cultural and visual expression of our society. Pompeii was frozen in time and its frescoes were preserved. Such a disaster in Toronto would only preserve a galaxy of images of vacant expressions and languid poses.And the graffiti. God bless the graffiti. A recent book suggests the ancient cave painting of Europe had more in common to graffiti than they do to religious iconography, which personally makes sense. (However, since we fundamentally know nothing about the cave paintings, they will always be susceptible to fashionable interpretation: a century ago when religion was taken more seriously, they had religious meaning. Now that religion has faded in importance, they’re graffiti. A century from now, a new reading perhaps based on whatever reality is present at that time).

Christopher Hutsul, in today’s Toronto Star, interviewed some people about Toronto’s cultural vision. He spoke to Fiona Smyth, Matthew Teitelbaum (of the AGO) and Sarah Diamond (the new president of OCAD). Why Smyth was chosen to be the voice of Toronto’s artists, I don’t know. I guess he could have picked worse … there are plenty worse. Smyth hasn’t been relevant to the Toronto scene for a decade (at least that’s my understanding). When asked about her vision, Hutsul wrote:

“For painter Fiona Smyth, graffiti should be flat-out decriminalized. ‘Billboards are taking over,’ she says. ‘Every available space is being grabbed by corporations, and graffiti can be a counterpoint to that …. ‘ The art form could extend to our rooftops, which Smyth believes are an untapped resource for gallery space. She imagines a city where rooftops are connected by a network of catwalks and feature sculptures, art pieces and gardens.”

I have some idea of what she’s smoking, but I’d like to point out that artists really need to get off the anti-billboard bandwagon. Only because, we get it. Imagine you want to suggest a new strategy, argue a point, or hell, even get laid. There’s a progression that occurs in proposition, argument and in seduction. You do not belabor the first step. You move forward. Yes billboards suck. Next…..

There’s a self-consciousness at the moment in the Left of what has gone wrong … and this failure to evolve the message is surely one of the problems. Our city is over-corporatized, billboards are part of that, but graffiti is not an antidote to them. Graffiti can be as much of an eyesore … one person’s masterpiece is another’s whack job, and so we need to keep this in mind. I for one like how graffiti throws down some colour on the otherwise gray landscape, shows some imagination.

We shouldn’t even try to understand architects who think raw concrete is lovely, let’s not waste the energy. But let’s think of how there are paint factories in the world capable of producing enough paint to cover the CN Tower if we so chose.

The tower for one is nice enough as it is, but we’re also used to it that way. We are also used to thinking that ancient Greco-Roman architecture was purely white. But it wasn’t – the Greeks and Romans painted their buildings – they seemed to enjoy colour. They seemed to have suffered from the fear of empty spaces known as horror vacui. Yet, in our day and age, the pure white walled room is the temple of contemporary art and culture. The overall message is that colour is bad, somehow not pure, because of the puritan pollution of neo-classicism which still lingers in the mind of the cultural. Rooftops of gardens and sculptures is something they might have done 2000 years ago, but I don’t really think sculpture has much relevance and I further imagine the sculpture would be like the shit atop the poles on Spadina … pure eyesores.

Calling for catwalks and sculpture gardens is just asking for more space to put up advertising kiosks like Derek Sulivan did. Was his project a critique of capitalism, or the suggestion that billboards are ok, as long as they imitate what was done in Europe a century ago?

Teitelbaum suggests expanding the AGO’s exhibitions to outside the space … put stuff up at Union Stn and similar. I suppose he hasn’t walked through BCE place at any time in the past few years, or through that office building on Yonge that had a space Paul Petro used to run. The BCE exhibitions are usually interesting, but ignored by the business people going to and fro. Union Stn wouldn’t work either – the space is too shitty (the Go Train space that is) and that would be your primary audience. People arriving on VIA would be too distracted by their trip to check out art, and no one from downstairs waiting for a Go Train would go upstairs, probably because the show would have stupid hours or be otherwise inaccessible.

The waterfront idea has some merit, but they’d be encroaching on the Power Plant’s territory, and then there’d be a turf war. Power Plant people bitching about the AGO, I can see it now, and it depresses me. But let’s move on to Sarah Diamond, who, it appears, is full of the vigour of naivte. ‘Look at me, I’m the president of an art school! Let’s have a Happening’. Jesus H Christ.

Yes, to reinvigorate our city’s cultural life, let’s go back 40 years, to a time when Henry Moore fell in love with Toronto out of spite. Happenings with scientists. I imagine Power Point presentations on quantum mechanics and relativity theory and oooh, dark matter. A real happening now involves nudity, cocaine, endless kegs, and music that hurts your ears. That’s not something likely to be sanctioned by corporate Canada and its funders.

Diamond goes on to say that arts need to be at the centre and not at the periphery – but they are at the periphery just as much as plumbing is to many of us – because the arts have become a little industry. I mean, if I needed a plumber, I wouldn’t know where to start to find one. It’s hard enough trying to find somebody to fix your computer, let alone your pipes. The arts are the same way. I happen to know lots of artists because I am an artist as well, because that’s my scene. I don’t know any plumbers or computer fix-it people. For Diamond to suggest moving the arts to the centre is the same as the president of plumbing college saying people need to pay more attention to their pipes. Ain’t going to happen darling.

Nor should we have a crowd of artists at Pearson to welcome passengers. Lame lame lame …. I’m not that surprised she got hired on with these splendid ideas. OCAD doesn’t cease to underwelm me (although I was impressed they’d moved their library catalogue to a self-designed Linux system the last time I was there). Artists at Pearson would send a strangely parochial message, suggesting we’re so desperate for other people’s attention that we’re going to do a song and dance and paint them pretty pictures as soon as they get off the plane.

As opposed to a place like New York. You know what New York’s philosophy is don’t you? It’s Fuck You. That’s why people want to go there. Because their amazing, they know it, and because this gives them the self-confidence to be brash and rude and bold. So they can afford to say Fuck You. Toronto: please come see our hobbits on stage! Look at our shiny artists, aren’t we special? When Toronto has the balls to kiss off the rest of the world as we do the rest of Canada (not for nothing we’re so despised) then the world will take notice, find us interesting, and you won’t need artists at the airports. A healthy culture is not a self-conscious culture. Nor is a healthy culture one that looks to Yorkville celebrities as a source of identity, as happens every September.

The article ends with two poets. “Molly Peacock, poetry editor at the Literary Review of Canada, suggests we stamp poetry into every new sidewalk square. Peacock, who helped bring ‘Poetry in Motion’ to the New York transit system, says if this were to happen, we’d be ‘the most marvellously literary city in the world.'”

This would probably make me hate poetry. I like it on the subway, but on sidewalks like this I’d find it oppressive, overwhelming, and a gross validation of text over speech, which isn’t a balance we should be persuaded to topple. If we get all offended by the stupid adverts everywhere, wouldn’t text everywhere underfoot be a similar violation of public space?

The second poet highlights the idea that poets are useless twits who merely have a way with words. “Sonnet L’Abbé believes the key to a more artful city is for people to ‘ease up on the gas’ in the pursuit of economic prosperity and make a ‘personal commitment to loving art. And when I say loving, I mean paying attention to it, getting to know, not just throwing money at it. It’s like a person growing their own artistic flower … If you have enough flowers, then the whole city becomes a garden of people who love and consume and make art.'”

We shouldn’t be asking people who failed chemistry in highschool to suddenly become chemists. ‘Get to know chemistry …’ they’d say, ‘fall in love with the test tube’. Ridiculous. You can’t ask this of people.

But you can try to create an environment where culture is an ambient reality, so that whenever the interests is sparked, they’ll know how to follow it. Recently I’ve been reading the plays of Aristophanes. A couple of weeks ago, on my way to meet a friend and with time to spare, I dropped into the ROM to check out the Greek artifacts and to familiarize myself with the world of those stories. This is what living in the city means to me – the availability of material for the pursuit of my interests. Libraries, galleries, museums … these are there so that we can grow as individuals, so that we can learn something about the world and what it means to be human.

Gardens and sculptures are lame because they are window dressing, imitations of a style that meant something thousands of years ago, when the statues were of gods or heroes. Exhibitions in transit areas are stupid because those are spaces designed to be moved through… and artists at air ports are foolish because only cultures who are trying to impress the bigger more powerful ones are prone to do something like that.

Toronto is not New York because we don’t have the cultural wealth. Build up the wealth by supporting the artists who work here, and by collecting masterpieces from around the world (and not just from the Anglo-American Empire), and then the city could facilitate cultural individuals. As it is, the city’s best libraries are the university ones, which are limited to the public, and the institutions are more interested in their face lifts.

Canada is a great country and I’m of the opinion that a whole generation of artists and the like are currently working in the city, a generation that will be read about in tomorrow’s history books. Forget Andy Warhol, and Happenings, and all that shit New York did in the 1960s. Toronto’s 1960s moment is right now, and let’s pay attention to those artists if you want to feel like you’re living in a culturally vibrant, exciting, and relevant place.

April 7 1986

7 avril 1986

Mon nom est Timothy Comeau.

Je suis en cinquieme anne a l’ecole Jean-Marie

Gay, au comte Digby en Nouvelle-Ecosse (BOW
2Z0) Canada.
Come project pour la semaine d’ Education nous

asayon de faire de nouvelles connaissance a

travers la mer.

Ou et quand as-ti trouve cette lettre? Qui est tu?

Box 68 Saulnierville
Digby Conty Ton nouvelle [ami]
Timothy Comeau

————————————-

[or, en anglais:]

April 7, 1986
My name is Timothy Comeau.

I am in 5th Grade at Jean-Marie Gay School, in the county of Digby in Nova Scotia (BOW 2Z0) Canada. As a project for Education Week we are trying to meet new people through the sea. Where and when have you found this letter? Who are you?
Box 68 Saulnierville
Digby Conty Your new friend,
Timothy Comeau

————————————-

// La Semaine d”education was our favorite time of the year, since it was the week for projects such as these, and roadtrips. I always loved the road trips: the museums in the valley – Fort Anne, Port Royal; the government projects: the tidal power generation station in 1987, listening to Bon Jovi on the bus ride home. We were given a pen to write this letter with, a special pen with indellible ink. It was made to seem all fancy and expensive. Later, with the whole art thing, I recognized the pen as a simple drawing pen.The wine bottles were brought in by the teachers. They probably threw a party to get them all.

The bottles were taken out to sea by a father of one of my classmates. He brought them out beyond the tip of Nova Scotia and dumped them overboard. Two were found in Maine, I think, or at least one was. Another went to New Brunswick. In the year or two following we’d occasionally have a visitor at the school or a letter read from a person who’d found it. This letter arrived for me in 1988, by which time I was in junior high. My sister was at the elementary school and she brought it home. She said there’d been quite a commotion that day, when it arrived. At first I had trouble reading the letter, since the indenting seem exagerated and the ‘m’ looked like ‘n’ or ‘w’s or whatever.

Message in a Bottle

American Idols

…or the ones from England, Sweden, Canada, whatever. How many of these franchises are there? And what do they all mean?

I’ve said before in conversation that the Idol franchise is remarkable in that it proves that young people aren’t apathetic about voting – they don’t seem to mind voting with their cell phones for pop singers. Further, this willingness to co-opt democracy for cultural workers says something about how we don’t live in a Spartan (Greek/Athenian) or Philistine (Hebrew) culture. We live in one that cherishes a certain kind of art, rather than the lame foolishness of galleries.

I’ve been reading the plays of Aristophanes lately. And some of Aesychlus – I’ve never had that much interest before and remember ten years ago listening to some friends in uni talking about Oedipus Rex and I couldn’t believe anyone would want to read Greek plays nowadays – too old fashioned. But what one gets out of ancient Greek literature is a recognition of some constants of human nature, and a better understanding of the theatre and through this, the attractions of film and television.

But one notes that the playwrights were competing, that the theatre evolved out of a presentation or ritual and a festival. It seems that the same impulse that gave rise to the theatre in ancient Athens is the same that gives rise to American Idol. An audience, voting for the performers in their spectacle. The Greek playwrights told the stories of the city, commenting and alluding to things in a way that we see in sketch comedy shows today, especially something like Saturday Night Live. But SNL is known to be the result of a collective effort, and there’s no voting for the best skit or skit writer.

If the theatre expressed the beliefs of the Athenians, and held a mirror up to their city-state civilization, what does the Idol franchise express? That consumerism is a functional religion for an otherwise collective secular civilization. Because the Idol franchise operates in more than one country, it shows that our civilization is no longer confined to individual nation states, but is spread across a lingu franca English world which we usually call Western. We could just as easily call it the Idolic, given our love of idol worship (see John Ralston Saul, Voltaire’s Bastards Chapter 11).

Our animated images function as gods, ghosts, angels … we have a whole pantheon of celebrity that goes back to this Greek heritage. This Idolic civilization claims to be secular, but is so in practice only, because each nation state has a population of believers within it. It also seems clear that the human being must take a position on a matter of belief: either they’re for a spiritual life, or their not; either they believe in some god, or they don’t; but that’s to say that spirit cannot be a vacuum: something will rush into to fill that void.

Our secular society, which in uncomfortable with open displays of belief, encourages everyone to be in the closet about these matters and functionally consumerist in public. This is what most often fills in that void. But it’s also not that simple … as I write I’m thinking of teenage girls in sneakers and lip gloss, caught up in that superficial world, and asking where does an idea of god fit into that? It’s another aspect of our Idolic civilization: everything is image, everything is mediated by the potential presence of the camera, to look hot is to praise whatever. Is sex our secular god? We all want to look hot to play with the image of sex?

Too often we use the word consumerism, implying that buying stuff is what we want. It seems that we all want style, beauty, cool, attractiveness … things that live up to a religion of image rather than belief. As I write this I’m also trying to figure in the stupid people who gossip about the love lives of their friends at work, who invest in Disney DVDs, whose entire lives seem cliché ridden and empty of what we could call culture in an elitist way. Not that these are bad people, and it seems a given that they’ll always exist, but they’re boring and distasteful. They’re probably quick to identify as Christians as well, so they’re caught between two belief systems: the one they live, and they one they think they live: that is, what they’d tell you despite the evidence. Such a disparity is a sign of unconsciousness, and perhaps that accounts for their appearance of stupidity and the dullness of their conversation. They’re really quite asleep. Or watching the flickering shadows of the television.

The Idol music festival is not designed to praise Dionysus or one particular pantheonic god (accept for maybe Simon Cowell) but is instead designed to generate a market for a forthcoming CD by the winner chosen by the cell-phone voting audience. It’s brilliant marketing, and has unfortunately been copied by everyone. But the willingness to adopt this method to sell speaks of what we consider to be important: living up to an image we come to know through marketing.