Stuart Ross, pigs ears, and Andre Breton

To quote Jason quoting Andre Breton:  “The imagination is perhaps on the point of reasserting itself, of reclaiming its rights.”

The very idea of ‘surrealism’ is surreal in itself.  The paintings, videos, photos and displays I viewed seemed in some ways meaningful, at least to the artist if not to me.  In other ways, they seemed totally random, a hodgepodge of ideas, things, images, that may or may not have been related.  Some seemed like they were not surreal at all, but almost conventional and recognizable (ie. the painting of Bush holding Saddam’s disembodied head in one hand, a machete in the other) while others seemed totally random and without purpose (ie. repeated photos of a faucet, a computer, some birth control pills, etc etc, in a line on the wall). 

As well, there were some exhibits that seemed random at first, but the artist’s statement gave it meaning and showed the relationship between object and thought.  Being aware of that relationship allowed to examine the relationship between objects in a different way.  I am thinking specifically of the pig’s ear exhibit, which at first glance seemed meaningless to me; the artist saw in the shapes a reflection of sex and fetishism, which I could understand and began to see the longer I thought about it.  Part of it meant examining my own ideas of the subject, and part of it was being allowed to see the artist’s view on it in a very removed and yet concrete way.  I was forced to consider connotations concerning others’ view of my sex life, and my view of my own desires.  All this in the form of some dried pork and a bucket.  Amazing!

           

I found Stuart Ross’s poetry reading at the end of the night to be another interesting part of the evening.  I think the most intriguing part about it was the experience of being able to visualize as he read aloud.  Words that seem incongruous on the page transformed themselves into whimsical, dreamlike images as I listened.  I was able to see connotations, connections in the images that perhaps might not have been apparent if seen visually.  Because I was visualizing his spoken words, they came together in my head in such a way that, if not particularly meaningful, was at least coherent.  To me, that sums up the importance of the imagination that Andre Breton describes in his Surrealist Manifesto.  He discusses the relationship between insanity and the imagination, concluding at one point that insanity is merely honesty; those we call “insane” merely enjoy their own imaginations so much that they do not attempt to restrain it, while most of us attempt to repress and “normalize” ourselves into a tamed, socially acceptable version.  In contrast, the so-called “realistic attitude” is “hostile to any intellectual or moral advancement”.

I don’t remember the name of Ross’s poem that affected me the most.  He spoke about a swimming pool (right in his own living room!), his neighbours, a watch, the home shopping network.  Sounds ridiculous, and yet it reminded me of those times when I’ve woken up in the dark and my clock says 6:00 and I can’t figure out whether it’s six am or six pm.  Or those days when things that seem so insane in my head are taken for granted and accepted by everyone else, and I’m the only one who’s overwhelmed.

The one “modern” theme I see in all of these readings so far is individual self-awareness – seeing the relationship between the self and others, the self and society, the self and established laws, codes, rules, the self and material goods, the overt self and the secret, repressed self of the Id.  The Beaver Ball, Andre Breton and Stuart Ross showed me another relationship – the self vs. reality.  Or the accepted reality, agreed upon by everyone else, versus one’s own private reality, one’s own interpretation of objects, events and images, one’s own narrative of what life is about and what in it is meaningful. 

aly

Next Week: the Surreal Beaver Ball

In preparation for next week’s class, March 5, which will be held at NAC, please read the following:

1. An English Translation of the Refus global.

2. The CBC archives of recordings about the Refus global and the Automatistes.

3. Andre Breton’s “Manifesto of Surrealism,” 1924. Focus on the part preceding the line of circles that look like this:

ö ö ö ö ö ö ö ö ö ö ö ö ö ö ö ö ö ö ö ö ö ö ö ö

This is our introduction to the avant-garde, which some scholars argue is outside and separate from modernity, whereas others claim is integral to it. What do you think?

Check out the lovely poster for the event, as well as the press release, and remember, that, as Breton writes: “the marvelous is always beautiful, anything marvelous is beautiful, in fact only the marvelous is beautiful.”

– Prof Steer

Someone put Charles in charge of Rolling Stone

i find it odd that “The Painter of Modern Life” sounds so contemporary, and so desperately relevant even now.  Instead of despairing the society around him that fosters falsity or alienation, Baudelaire is cheerily able to laud Monsieur G. and his work.

I appreciated, too, Baudelaire’s succintness; which has been a breath of fresh air after the somewhat stilted readings of Nietzche or Freud.  I find for all his enthusiasm, though, Baudelaire hits upon something extremely valuable to the discussion of modernism.  I found an expertly crafted passage on page 24 of the article:

“Once more to attempt a definition of the kind of subjects preferred by our artist, we would say that it is the outward show of life, such as it is to be seen in the capitals of the civilized world; the pageantry of military life, of fashion and of love. Wherever those deep, impetuous desires, war, love, and gaming, are in full flood, like Orinocos of the human heart; wherever are celebrated the festivals and fictions which embody these great elements of happiness and adversity, our observer is always punctually on the spot.” [emphasis mine]

I find this passage important because it attempts to pin down what we seem to have been coming around to – that immediacy of modernity that is at once deeply personal, but also visibly made plain by….what?  How can Monsieur G. communicate his own sense of beauty to the viewer?  Certainly Baudelaire has seen it, and agrees.  But does this mean that beauty is in-set, or is it still determined by our own circumstances and context?

I find this passage as meaningful as it is troubling.

 (as to the title of the post, I think honesty and enthusiasm such as Baudelaire’s would be a great service to some our current popular culture publications.  Take note, Rolling Stone Magazine.)

 - Steve Woodhead