is there still hope?
Amidst really depressing articles on fucked up christian politicians with a disturbing anti-homosexual agenda and the terrifying stories about the evangelicals running the air force academy I find this: a wonderful article on Banks Violette's Burzum cover art inspired burned down church of salt. Ah the Whitney - really refreshing that New York is considering this stuff with such respect as a solo show of a single piece.
I remember when all of the Norwegian black metal shit was happening in the 90s, I saw the music as a natural extension of the grindcore shit that was developing in some strange parallel response to speed metal, totally slow and focused on the mood - the idea of creating a more pure form for expressing some of the angst and anger that manifested itself in frustration - freed from the (restraints of) childish aggression (manifest in speed). I guess I owe appreciation for this to Luke (who's finally formalizing years of being hitched to Jen this very week) - he loaned me a copy of Obituary's first album back then, in juxtaposition to Sepultura and Slayer (the latter seems so childish now in comparison to what was then developing in Norway). It would be a shame if I didn't mention his band Avulsion so I have. (oh the paths we choose).
What does all this mean? Well, that I still love art for one, despite feeling further pushed away from some friends who are making art and a bit more superficially inspired for this project with Felix (localizing people (textually) with polution). It also means I'm ten plus years from the darkest times I've ever had - that damned loft on lake street - 2 blocks from the harp factory. no one is monodimentional except in bad narritives so I cannot blame anyone (or any one group) for that time but what seems most real to me in retrospect is how commodity driven those kids were (with the exception of mr. happy human (eric newman) of course - a good soul probably frustrated at being stuck there) - even burzom was the idea of burzom - commodity of extremist views made real. This is just not the way you think of things when you see norwegian snow falling and think to yourself how does this culture develop here? It's hard to describe exactly how culture shapes things at that level - especially when you can only reference things you see as an outsider by internalizing them to the familiar that is necessarily different - maybe this is why some people are fascinated with foreign/native kitch - they can't relate it to anything in their lives so it has value as "other" despite having no value save for it's monetaristic or collectible/ownable value.
How did I get to here from there? well, is it that far away? salt pillars stacked in the semblance charred church for viewing at the Whitney (which will ensure the collectability/ownable and monetaristic value of Banks Violette's work) legitimizies the artist's work which seeks to relate black metal culture (or the ideas underpinned by it) to his own.
I wonder what Beth B (also a former Whitney endorsed edgy artist, though with a more political view of art and the world and the art world) thinks of this? A lost spirit I should find again.
I remember when all of the Norwegian black metal shit was happening in the 90s, I saw the music as a natural extension of the grindcore shit that was developing in some strange parallel response to speed metal, totally slow and focused on the mood - the idea of creating a more pure form for expressing some of the angst and anger that manifested itself in frustration - freed from the (restraints of) childish aggression (manifest in speed). I guess I owe appreciation for this to Luke (who's finally formalizing years of being hitched to Jen this very week) - he loaned me a copy of Obituary's first album back then, in juxtaposition to Sepultura and Slayer (the latter seems so childish now in comparison to what was then developing in Norway). It would be a shame if I didn't mention his band Avulsion so I have. (oh the paths we choose).
What does all this mean? Well, that I still love art for one, despite feeling further pushed away from some friends who are making art and a bit more superficially inspired for this project with Felix (localizing people (textually) with polution). It also means I'm ten plus years from the darkest times I've ever had - that damned loft on lake street - 2 blocks from the harp factory. no one is monodimentional except in bad narritives so I cannot blame anyone (or any one group) for that time but what seems most real to me in retrospect is how commodity driven those kids were (with the exception of mr. happy human (eric newman) of course - a good soul probably frustrated at being stuck there) - even burzom was the idea of burzom - commodity of extremist views made real. This is just not the way you think of things when you see norwegian snow falling and think to yourself how does this culture develop here? It's hard to describe exactly how culture shapes things at that level - especially when you can only reference things you see as an outsider by internalizing them to the familiar that is necessarily different - maybe this is why some people are fascinated with foreign/native kitch - they can't relate it to anything in their lives so it has value as "other" despite having no value save for it's monetaristic or collectible/ownable value.
How did I get to here from there? well, is it that far away? salt pillars stacked in the semblance charred church for viewing at the Whitney (which will ensure the collectability/ownable and monetaristic value of Banks Violette's work) legitimizies the artist's work which seeks to relate black metal culture (or the ideas underpinned by it) to his own.
I wonder what Beth B (also a former Whitney endorsed edgy artist, though with a more political view of art and the world and the art world) thinks of this? A lost spirit I should find again.
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