#messe basel
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ART BASEL 2023
Dal 12 al 18 giugno 2023 si tiene a Basilea la fiera madre ART BASEL Basilea
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scorpion in a 8th/9th century manuscript from the monastery of fulda (Basel, Universitätsbibl., F III 15a, fol. 23r)
[Image ID: a rough line drawing of a creature with the general outline of a horseshoe crab. On the left side are four spikes that probably represent legs; on the right are three. It has a tail and pincers, but the pincers appear to have eyes and odd triple-forked tongues, apparently being interpreted as snake's heads. The tail has a circle and a line drawn on it near the end that indicates it might also be a snake's head, but with its mouth closed.]
Okay, that's... that's something. I've got to assume that this is the work of someone who was presented with a more-or-less-correct silhouette of a scorpion -- maybe a drawing light on detail, much like this one -- and tried to interpret it in a way that makes sense to them. So the pincers become... snake heads, because it's venomous? Right? And maybe the tail too? Honestly I kind of like the creativity. Looks like they've screwed up the legs on the right side, though, assuming that's what those are meant to be. And I'm not sure why the snakes' tongues are forked three ways instead of two.
Points:
Small Scuttling Beaſtie? ✓
Pincers? i mean, kind of? they're there, but they have tongues... ½
Exoskeleton or Shell? ✓
Visible Stinger? fine you can have this one, ✓
Limbs? 9
As for vibes, this is a tough one. The creativity is respectable, but this is generally a mess. And I can't picture this critter in any way that makes me okay with it being around me, so I'm going with a 2 / 5.
Total points:
6.4 / 10
Taking some big swings here.
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Glass architecture · Messe Basel 2024
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Can we discuss this line from Lost Boys:
"But why would I even wanna be alive
To see her with someone at Art Basel?"
When he ran into Sommer Ray there in 2022? 2023? Can't remember!
Also this verse from Summer's Gone:
"When I'm on this microphone with my еngineer
These songs are thе only way
That I can communicate with you when I'm no longer here
And fear of loneliness is solely responsible for
Why I ran everyone away
Searchin' for paradise when I was already in it
Is why I got took away"
Yeah the thing with Sommer at Art Basal was 2022. That was my first thought when I heard that line too I’m not sure what else he could be referring to, that we know of anyway.
“Only therapy that's workin' is
When I'm on this microphone with my еngineer”
is him basically saying that recording and performing music is therapeutic to him more so than actual therapy.
And my interpretation of “And fear of loneliness is solely responsible for
Why I ran everyone away
Searchin' for paradise when I was already in it
Is why I got took away” Is him saying that his fear of being lonely is the only reason he put up with Megan’s shit and basically pushed all his friends away because of her , and that if he wasn’t looking for a relationship with Megan we he already had a good thing going with Sommer than he wouldn’t be in the mess he is now .
That’s just my interpretation I’m curious as to what others think it means ?
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the fact that casper, taylor, and holger are all playing basel while the rest of the top 10 are in vienna is so funny. everyone wants to get as far away from that mess as possible
#whoever manages to flop the least between the three of them will probably qualify for atp finals#the real question is can one flop less than the others#casper ruud#taylor fritz#holger rune
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Story i dont have i title yet (but i should really) pt. 3
It was 4am, I woke up in the middle of the night like usual and felt really warm under all that heavy blanket. Without making any sound, I got out of bed and went to the kitchen still shirtless without her noticing. When I was in the kitchen, I grabbed a glass and filled it with water from the kitchen sink, I like Swiss sink water and here in Bern it tastes even better in comparison to Basel. The fact that I’m now living by myself and got nobody wondering why I woke up so early was intriguing like I’m finally free from traditional routines set by my family. Returning to the Bedroom I heard a little giggle, deep but calm and also sweet. I lay down in bed, thinking about my girlfriend imagining she was there with me. I rolled over to Sally’s side and I saw her tucked and rolled in her bed sheets like a worm watching something on her phone. I watched her for a bit before rolling on the other side trying to fall asleep again. I closed my tired eyes and hoped that I would fall asleep.
When I woke up (for the second time) I stayed in bed for a bit, thinking like I usually do. I felt like I was in a hotel room with my parents in holiday, never friends. We always planned to do big things like those, but in the end the friend group fell apart, or I get kicked out or we forget about those. It’s crazy thinking that teens my age already made so much stuff, I bet even Sally has some hidden awesome lore like this. I finally get out of bed, make my side of the bed and go to the kitchen. When I opened the door, I immediately saw Sally standing in front of it, in an oversized t-shirt and sweatpants, with what seemed like a red brownie in her hand and her mouth covered in what seemed like strawberry jam. “Oh, if you want some they are in the kitchen, there are still some left” she says while walking to her baggage, “I made these yesterday before coming here” “What are those?” I respond while walking to the kitchen. “Those are strawberry brownies I made, it’s a recipe I invented”. I look at the brownies and realize we didn’t buy any groceries yet, and we can’t just simply go to Germany and buy some like we always used to. It’s a simple yet important detail I forgot to say. “Sally, we need to buy food” I yell from the kitchen in a tired, neutral and dumb tone. “I know fatass” she responds in the same tone as trying to mock me, while she puts on a light jacket to go out. “Hey I’m not fat, I do powerlifting, ofc I look bulkier than the others who train strength”. I responded a bit pissed. “Maybe you could use your strength to clean up the mess we made yesterday and set up the consoles to the TV and the coffee machine my dad had left in the basement. Since I mounted the TV all alone yesterday” before she walks out, she also tells me: “If you need something text me on WhatsApp, bye”. And like this she closes the door quickly and leaves.
For the first time I felt truly alone with myself, with no one calling me or coming home soon (except for her). The first minutes I just stood there in the kitchen still staring at those brownies, still tired. I then got myself back and did the things she said, hooked the consoles she brought, a switch dock and a ps3. I moved on to setting up the coffee machine, I never set up home appliances like those. She said it was from her father’s basement, so I had to clean it, especially the water tank, it was really dirty but after messing up with hot water and salt I managed to clean it, now it looks new. At the end cleaned the kitchen island with hot water and salt since we had no soap, I just used salt because I think it makes some chemical reaction to clean the bacteria or something. In a nutshell, today was pretty boring other than doing stuff at “home”, I didn’t even feel like watching movies or YouTube or anything on my laptop since I felt so empty and bored, in the end I began rewatching “La casa de Papel” (for the 4th time) while eating two strawberry drawings and the rest of the onion rings from yesterday.
I sat and watched an entire season of it before wondering where the hell Sally has been since its 1pm and she was out for so long. The moment I grabbed my phone to call her I heard the door opening, it was her just coming inside with two full bags like nothing happened. I asked her where she went, she said with her relaxed tone: “I found an Aldi that’s not too far away from here, and also I got to know someone” ”And also this should last us a week or two” she added while putting the bags on the kitchen island I cleaned. I asked her what we should cook for lunch, even though none of us was hungry. In the end we didn’t cook anything and just decided to play Mario kart for a while before we got bored of it. And began to talk about us like war veterans telling them their old stories, she was laying on the ground like a dead body while I was still on the couch.
Salva: “Why are you taking this so easy?”
Sally: “This what?”
Salva: “Living alone, cooking you know just the whole thing of being totally alone”
Sally: “Maybe I already was like this before moving in, like the alpha version of it”
Salva: “You already lived alone? or DID YOUR PARENTS DIE LATELY” while saying the second part of the sentence I almost fell from the couch.
Sally: “No, no, no its not this, god no” she said with a bittersweet look “I don’t really want to talk about it now”
Salva: “It’s okay, I’m sorry I made you feel like that”
Sally:” don’t worry at all, I shouldn’t really feel like this in the first place”
Sally: “I think I will go sleep for some time, don’t wake me up.”
She looked sad and seemed like she was overthinking something, maybe I said something I shouldn’t have said, could it be about her parents? I got back on the couch and was also overthinking about reasons that made no sense at all like, what if my parents just forgot me now? or if I could imagine living most of my life with her. I felt like her, I just wanted to fall asleep and let the time pass. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the silence of the room till I fell asleep.
“Hey, are you still alive” said a familiar voice that sounded deep and like it just woken up from a deep sleep like waking up on Monday morning before going to school. It was Sally or at least the blurry image of Sally I saw while opening my wet eyes, probably I cried a little in my sleep. I responded with the same tiredness: “Ehm, yes, I think, good morning” “Morning? look outside dummy, the sun is setting down” she responded back. I finally opened my eyes properly and looked out the transparent door that lead to the garden and back at the clock, it was 9pm I slept for 6 hours which is incredible for me since I never sleep this long. Sally looked destroyed, she had the same clothes as before, her make up was running down her face since her eyes were like mine, wet like she also cried in her sleep.
I got up from the couch and slowly walked to the bathroom, it was decent big bathroom the best thing of all is that there was a washing machine, so we don’t have to wash it in the public ones of the complex. I looked depressed and I didn’t even know it was such a drastic mood swing. After washing my face and doing my hair again I got out of the bathroom, sitting on the couch quietly she looked at me and asked me: “Are you hungry?” I shake my head: “I also don’t feel like cooking, I don’t think you would want to cook” “yeah, I’m not feeling like cooking at all, but I’m bored.”
Salva: “Are you okay?”
Sally: “Yeah I’m fine, I’m just bored and tired but I’m a bit better after I went to sleep”
Salva: “We could go for a walk really quick to get tired, and explore the neighborhood”
She rubbed both her eyes, she smiled a bit again and with that smile she said: “Sure why not, I love walking at these hours”.
#writing#english is not my first language#english is not my native language#beginner writer#genderbend
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I need to vent about Poshmark.
Poshmark is a hit and miss site for me. The hits are a little better but not by much. I’ve been able to sell some things, buy some things. My most recent was a mess...a pair of classic white leather Nike sneakers, but they were listed on one woman’s Poshmark account, but then “oh, sorry my daughter listed them on hers too, can you go buy them from that username?” So we had to cancel the order, then she had to send me a new offer with the free shipping she included as an apology. Anyway it’s a hassle.
So I’ve been really, REALLY wanting a pair of Lucky Basel booties in brown, and there are several from different sellers. So one pair I put in an offer, and I didn’t hear a THING. Completely ghosted and ignored. Okay, FINE. So after that, I looked for another pair, found one for a GREAT price, ordered, and once again...crickets. I get they have three days to get it together and ship but this is the second time this has happened. And the seller cannot say they haven’t been active, they HAVE.
This is really the main problem I have with Poshmark, as opposed to eBay. It really feels less like a retail site and more like social media. People will set up their “closets” and then just abandon them. There’s no way to check seller ratings (you can rate sellers and see your own ratings, but there’s nothing public). So therefore you don’t know who is a reliable seller and who just put up a Poshmark page cause they felt like it. There’s no accountability and it’s frustrating.
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« ( Dragon AU - Did You Hear The Beast? ) »
“ Teresa ” - Unknown Dragon Species ( Currently, last of his kind )
“ Dragon Claimed “ - Nnoitra @despairforme
They do not have a name, for they were nearly wiped from the world and left behind nothing but the fear of plague, poison and corrosion of thousands. A species near impossible to find solo, monsters that breath purple clouds and devour wolfsbane like a child with bread. They hunger for little, but they thrive like vermin with bites that make even rats flee. They were a scary species that were told in tells of farm lands and on pathways through woodland thickets. No tree hollow was looked upon without arrow on nook aflame to protect oneself. No unnatural hill was passed without oil and aflame torch at hand.
They were here. Always nearby like a spider awaiting prey to mess up.
And it wasn't even the knowledge of them being in the open, but the silence that shattered with that fear-inducing screech of a roar. You were not safe the moment that rattled the very clouds. Wings were silent, claws devastating and fog that hallucinate to even the most sound of mind. They lingered not, they ate to the bone, they devoured crops, mortal and pet alike.
In books of the draconic monsters, scholars found themselves shuddering at the sight of the demonic offspring. The mayhem of all man, they etched with true depictions of these creatures and within their layers of papers, information grew fast and true. On the tongues of death-touched, on the screams of children left behind, on the bodies of cattle and dogs alike.
[ Monster ] [ Demon ]
[ Dragon ]
body
Monsters the size of twenty-one hands, towering the strongest of draft horse on the field.
Flesh pale to the point of sickly, but marred in the touch of greyish hues that resemble the ripples of a ponds reflection on a wall.
Build slim for a beast of its size, compact and agile - with eight strong limbs! Old descriptions spoke of only four legs, but newer tales on deathbeds croak with the horror of four upper limbs, the secondary set without paw or fin, but instead - folds like a bug. The sharped tip, serrated up the forelimb and strikes with impaling motions upon settling on its pray.
tail
Tail is long, stiff upon its base to half-way point, where the rest of it is cracked like a whip. Another notes bones of uneven crescents settle upon its near tip. Decorative, one is not to sure to say.
wings
Wings of mid-night hues, black and luring to the eye - but broken upon the shimmer of yellow crescents, almost like eyes - multiple more eyes of the beast that watches in the distance. Then when in flight, the moon above pushes through membrane - making it shimmer as if the beast swallows the starry night with each flap.
Wings have a singular bone; that’s sharpened over the years to form a bladed wing. Evolution has it as the factor that they target prey larger than themselves, and thus; through the ages; their bodies have conformed into making their entire frames a sharp weapon. The sturdy yet flexible-jointed bone-blade runs along the length of the Humerus, Radius, Ulna, Radiale, Ulnare, Metacarpus, the Basel & Terminal Phalanx.
These Toxin Beasts are known for swooping & slashing their prey; opening tiny and large wounds for toxin venom and spitting to enter the bloodstream rapidly - whilst also avoiding direct combat.
combat prowess
Deadly Precision, they will attack the neck, tendons, underbelly and nasal passages of their prey. With their combat abilities of being a poison/toxic pest; Teresa is a powerful and smart drake that will make his prey, of a ten times bigger size than himself, bleed out, be poisoned and slowly die a painful and excruciating internal death.
They have the patience of a saint when they hunt; this is one of the major shifts in their temperaments when it comes to getting food. Teresa is capable of waiting WEEKS for a large meal to die upon its own; before having its fill.
The jowls of the beast are hooked in the lip, and the main set of teeth are fierce and small but the roof of the mouth is filled with curved fangs, that latch and penetrate deep. This is where the plague is pumped into the prey. Doused in toxic liquids from glands between each fang, the pouch is released with ease bite - the first bite the most potent.
vocals
Screeches, screamers, mimicry of loud noises that make heads turn.
Toxin Drakes have become even more dangerous with the ability to tighten and loosen vocal cords within their long throats to mimic hundreds of sounds. Be it from a Bird, a Dog’s Bark or even a Human’s scream; they can blend and mix their vocals well on a hunt to throw off their preys every move.
Throat gurgling, hissing, grunting, huffing, chuffing and heavy rumbling from the chest area, are actually signs of affection to their chosen few.
diet
Poisonous plantation
Toxic swamp waters are Junk Food to him; however, they are big fans of infected flesh/meats and contaminated goods.
Raw Meat, Fish and Mammals are fine too.
Human when they are under threat, humans carry a lot of disease so it’s almost a treat if they are already dead / half way on death’s door.
habitat
Often low to the ground, burrows and/or tree houses. Though a violent and flight based species; they are more common to be found at eye-level with most prey species.
eggs
A Toxin Drake’s egg is sturdy; having been laid in high places and with such rough parent units. Though not careless, they are often kicking and nudging the eggs around in their nest to get comfortable with meals and food; thus; having heavy footed parents is a downfall for many creatures.
Toxin Drakes have formed a new egg; an outer shell that is diamond hard, the inner casings filled with a toxic sludge, and under that - the softer shell of the dragon foetus.
Eggs are usually a dark colour; to blend in with the darkness of Tree Holes / Buried dark burrows and in blind spots of more aggressive predators.
© Flight Rising Images & Breed - Mirror / Male&Female and Hatchling.
( Loosely based off! )
Teresa Drake Info - Mine. Please do not copy or re-write this in any form for your own dragon ocs without asking for permission or something, fam.
#« ( Dragon AU - Did You Hear The Beast? ) »#« ( Teresa ) » HC.#yohohohoo uw u#new and better babyyyy
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#mapplethorpe #ArtBasel2022 #weekend #unlimited #art #galleries #talks #artworld #collector #travelblogger #influencer #cbsbrito #myswitzerland (à Messe Basel) https://www.instagram.com/p/CfFuNSgq54w/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
#mapplethorpe#artbasel2022#weekend#unlimited#art#galleries#talks#artworld#collector#travelblogger#influencer#cbsbrito#myswitzerland
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Veganの量り売りレストランに行って、食べたいモノを盛り付けしたら、このワンプレートとビールで合計5500円でした😅 外食文化の障壁が立ちはだかる外国取材になっております😅🧘♂️🙏 味は最高に旨いです🤩🌈❤️🔥 #バーゼル #basel #artbasel2022 #artbasel #designbasel2022 #tibits #vegan #veganfood #ketogenic (Messe Basel) https://www.instagram.com/p/Ce-pZTMNLO0/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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CONCIERTOS (World)
Tom Jones
AVO Sessions
Messe, Basel, Switzerland (2009)
Atención: Solo para ver en PC o Notebook
Para ver el Concierto pulsa el Link:
https://artecafejcp.wixsite.com/escenario-cafejcp/post/tom-jones-3
Café Mientras Tanto
jcp
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Art Crime Pays: Trump Pardons Helly Nahmad, the Art World’s Cartoon Villain
The pardons favored Trump cronies, allies, and business associates — in the manner of a bouncer fingering VIPs from behind a tatty velvet rope at Le Baron during Art Basel Miami Beach
Helly Nahmad Walk
It was April 30, 2014, and Hillel “Helly” Nahmad was doing his best courtroom grovel.
“Your honor, I am ashamed,” the then 35-year-old art dealer told U.S. District Court Judge Jesse M. Furman inside Manhattan’s Thurgood Marshall Courthouse. “My family is a private family and I have brought dishonor to it . . . No matter what your sentence today, I will never forgive myself. Others who love me may forgive, but I will not.”
The scion of the famously secretive Nahmad clan — a three-billion-dollar art-dealing empire heavily leveraged with Picassos and Renoirs and with economic interests across the U.S., Europe, and the Middle East — Nahmad was being tried as part of a wide-ranging, 34-defendant racketeering and money-laundering investigation. The case was brought by the Violent and Organized Crime Unit of the U.S. Attorney’s Office for the Southern District of New York, led at the time by Preet Bharara, who was fired by President Donald Trump early in 2017.
The charges against Nahmad — who runs a glitzy secondary-market gallery located on the first floor of the Carlyle Hotel — were weighty enough to galvanize the Feds and sufficiently boldface to inspire an Aaron Sorkin film, the Jessica Chastain vehicle Molly’s Game. According to The New York Times, Nahmad was charged with captaining a $100 million gambling ring that included professional athletes, actors Tobey Maguire and Leonardo DiCaprio, and several organized crime figures, among them Russian oligarch and Trump acquaintance Alimzhan Tokhtakhounov (the Uzbek gangster is still at large in the vast criminal underworld that is the Russian Federation). Additionally, Nahmad was accused of bilking an unnamed female client described as being in “dire financial circumstances” out of more than $100,000 in an otherwise “routine” art sale.
Facing as many as 100 years in prison, Nahmad was found guilty and sentenced, incredibly, to just a year and a day (he effectively dodged racketeering, money laundering, and conspiracy charges, and was indicted on a single gambling count). He was also ordered to pay a $30,000 fine, plus forfeit $6.4 million and his interest in Raoul Dufy’s 1937 painting Carnaval à Nice, which was employed in yet another allegedly fraudulent transaction.
Before the trial ended, Nahmad delivered himself of a remarkable allocution. Unlike the statement defendants regularly convey to judges to accept responsibility, humanize themselves, and mitigate sentences, Nahmad’s expression of remorse instead mimicked comic-strip beggary: his plea for leniency described how, after his April 2013 arrest, “Nahmad was a blubbery mess who collapsed into his sister’s arms.” Writing for the now defunct publication DNA Info, reporter James Fanelli also reported on Nahmad’s offer to chaperone underprivileged youth on visits to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in lieu of prison time: “I do not have a great education in other subjects, but I really do know a lot about art and I think I could really reach young people in a good way and hopefully introduce them to a world they might not otherwise visit.”
The court summarily dismissed such expressions of contrition as insincere. According to Judge Furman: “Mr. Nahmad’s view of the world, at least when he thinks that no one is watching . . . [is] that he can take advantage of the situation. To allow him to use his family’s money to buy his way out of this would sow contempt for the law.”
Fast forward to January 20, 2021. As part of his final febrile hours inside the White House, Donald Trump — the Biff Tannen of rich boy privilege — issued pardons to 73 convicts, including Nahmad, the Snidley Whiplash of the art world. An official White House communication described the 41-year-old art perp as having led “an exemplary life” since his conviction. (Requests for comment on the pardon sent to Nahmad’s gallery went unanswered.)
According to Kenneth P. Vogel of The New York Times, only 25 of Donald Trump’s almost 240 pardons and commutations came through the process the Justice Department normally uses to identify and vet worthy petitions of clemency. The rest favored an ad hoc process that privileged Trump cronies, allies, and business associates — in the manner of a bouncer fingering VIPs from behind a tatty velvet rope at Le Baron during Art Basel Miami Beach.
At first, second, and third glance, the Nahmad pardon suggests a tangle of plutocratic quids, pros, and quos. Nahmad owns the entire 51st floor of Manhattan’s Trump Tower, for which he paid $21 million, in 2016. His lawyer, Benjamin Brafman — who previously defended Harvey Weinstein and Martin Shkreli — also helped obtain pardons for two more noteworthy clients: conspiracy theorist and campaign-finance fraudster Dinesh D’Souza and disgraced former Illinois Governor Rod Blagojevich. Another longtime Brafman client who was recently pardoned: witness-tamperer and tax cheat Charles Kushner, father of Donald Trump’s ex–senior adviser and son-in-law. The relationship patterns are as ugly as a MAGA Christmas sweater. (If other presidents, such as Bill Clinton and Ronald Reagan, issued controversial pardons — the former pardoned fugitive banker Mark Rich, the latter Yankees owner George Steinbrenner — Trump’s forgiveness stands out for the close proximity of folks he has let off the hook, including former campaign advisers, staffers, and in-laws.)
In a Trump-free universe, pardons and commutations are overseen by federal prosecutors and the U.S. Attorney General. Typically, they are also reviewed by the judges involved in the original sentencing. Applicants are evaluated on their post-conviction conduct, the seriousness of their crimes, whether they are remorseful, and, ultimately, personal recommendations. Though no recommendations for Nahmad’s pardon are yet forthcoming, Judge Furman characterized his 2014 letters of support as coming from art-market folks who “had some reason to curry favor” with the Nahmads. One letter came from Pace Gallery honcho Marc Glimcher. He told the court that Nahmad “is very simply the most honest and trustworthy person we have the privilege to work with.”
“Gambling has always been a part of my life,” Nahmad told Judge Furman before being convicted, “I watched my father and his friends play games . . . for high stakes. It was a part of his life the way the art business was. It was almost an addiction. It crossed the line into my being part of illegal gambling. I knew we were no longer just betting and I should have stopped. I didn’t and I have only myself to blame.”
Besides throwing his own father under the bus as, ahem, ethically challenged — in 2016 the Panama Papers connected David Nahmad to ownership of a Nazi-looted painting, Amedeo Modigliani’s Seated Man With a Cane (1918) — Nahmad fils conveniently left out his own larcenous worldview. In 2014, a wiretapped phone conversation recorded Helly as saying that wealth can be created by those who “circumvent the system” and “cheat and lie.” Here’s a modest proposal for those sick of having the art trade routinely compared to the shadowy worlds of drug cartels and gun trafficking. Remember Nahmad’s words and who uttered them, reject business as usual, and trash the idea that art crime pays. ❖
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what is this mess of a german-belgian border. also why did they cut basel like a cake gave 1/4 france & 1/8 germany
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Untitled project Devlog #4: Musical jellyfish evolution and the death of languages (kinda)
here’s the thing. I technically know how to play piano and cello, but it’s the same way a toddler technically knows how to write the letters of the alphabet. Give them enough time and they'll scribe the works of Shakespeare; but you’re shit out of luck if you’re expecting them to finish it before they turn into a hormonal mess that popular culture states exclusively cares about prom… for some reason.
Point is, I enjoy making music and respect the craft that goes into it the same way I do art. There is beauty to be found in everything. with that in mind…
How did we get here? Let’s talk about that.
In case you’re not familiar, these three images all represent installations that technically count as art, respectively by Maurizio Cattelan, Anish Kapoor (top) and Eva Hesse (bottom). I’m not here to be some salacious screaming goblin condemning or defending anything but what I am going to do is offer some context that might help you understand them, and we’re going to talk about how that ties into music.
Art and music change because of the world around them, that we know. One thing that’s slightly less obvious is the fact that it also changes in reaction to itself. When we as artists are not satisfied with something we drew, we make it better. We learn some new discipline to help polish our art like anatomy or brushwork or pacing (so on and so forth): we react to our art and decide to do something different. This concept is why we have different art styles and genres of music. Remember the fact that metal and punk sound the way they do because people were exploring the upper limits of electric amplification, but also because they wanted to sound different. They were tired of endless guitar solos and formulaic songwriting so they changed it. Eventually, those ended up being formulaic and spawned different music– we’ll get to that in a moment.
Art right? So what does that say about a banana taped to a wall, a giant bean and a bunch of rope that looks like it met with the business end of a honey badger? This is what happens when something evolves into a corner. This is true for jellyfish. For example, jelly fish have evolved to be something so specific, that scientists theorize they can’t evolve into anything else even if they wanted to. With art, what this means is that the art being made is not going to be understood or engaged with as easily. In the name of preaching this very specific idea it loses its ability to communicate that idea widely–which is not inherently wrong but does raise an interesting question: what is the effect of this?
The reason Maurizio Cattelan taped a banana to a wall is because he was making fun of the art ecosystem, the art basel Miami beach exhibition that sold the idea of his banana for a collective 360.000$ not counting artist proofs. Whether or not you like him or his work doesn’t discredit the fact that he was poking fun at the gallery and us as viewers.
youtube
Art is always questioning itself: when Claude Monet first revealed his Painting of a sunrise (the one that would later help kickstart impressionism) people laughed at him. But he did it not because he was trying to please them, but because he wanted to suggest the idea that there are ways of painting that weren’t being explored at the time.
Impression, sunrise Claude Monet
From there people kept on trying new things. Art became less about what you’re drawing and more about what’s also behind the art, the artist, the message, the idea, the people that congregate around it. sound familiar?
Metal music isn’t trying to be weird, it’s just trying to be itself, which happens to be weird.
shameless self quote there.
and here’s the core of it: music and art sometimes have a feedback problem. The new tends to be derivative from what came before it and it can fall into a sort of formula– which is not wrong, nothing is always meant to trailblaze some unknown territory. But the ones that stand out the most and are the most memorable are frequently the ones that do. This can be applied to what we’re talking about here: the reason we ended up with shiny beans and rope being art isn’t because people are trying to scam you, it’s because the idea being put forward requires so much context that most people genuinely just don’t have time for.
Just like metal, art is just doing what art does best, being itself which ends up feeling so weird because you have bands like infant annihilator who are writing albums called
The Palpable Leprosy of Pollution… FOR THE LOLS. You see the giant wall of context I just had to give you to understand just the banana? I didn’t even talk about Anish kapoor and how people don’t like him, or even mention Eva Hesse. Now imagine the amount of context I would need to give to explain this:
Some Metal, just like some art, is guilty of having evolved itself into a corner with a feedback loop of “louder and more outrageous”. Again this isn’t bad, and I'll illustrate that by talking about classical music.
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The main thing classical music and the culture surrounding it are accused of is elitism, and it’s not a secret to anyone that classical music has been stuck in the same place for a while. Even within itself people who listen to early classical music like Bach say contemporary composers are less good, i.e. anything written in the 20th century (1900’s). And… it’s easy to see it right? You can imagine the old piano instructor who exclusively teaches Chopin to the letter who says something like “hip hop is bad” (I'm not too sure what old annoying people say about music so I’m sorry for the misrepresentation, old annoying people). But this image misses a lot of cool things about classical music, like how Chopin was mostly an improviser who used the written notation as a general guide, or how Mozart was a broke freelancer, how shostakovich got in trouble when he wrote his 9th symphony because he made it stupid on purpose to make fun of the USSR. The MADMAN. The history of classical music is chalk full of things like this.
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There's this tantacrul video that delves into more detail regarding elitism in music.
it should be noted that the sensibilities of classical music are slightly different than metal. Metal focuses mostly on bombastic feelings which classical music does too– in its own way: I’m reminded of Accept’s cover of night on a bald mountain
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I should mention that I’m stating these facts as someone who was trained classically, my brother’s also a counter tenor. In any case, the short of it is that classical musicians have a lot of the same sensibilities regarding making art that metal musicians do -see devlog 2. The place where it gets interesting is how they define what the music is for. Now you’ll hear a lot pretentious ways of it being described like “gateway to the soul” or “frequencies” or some equally vague nonsense but any classical musician worth their money will tell you this:
Amplification and electricity did not exist. Techniques are the way they are and instruments are built like that because the only thing giving the sound its quality is you. There are a lot of people you’ll hear using that as a jumping off point to discredit electronic music or any music that requires amplification but those people aren’t the point right now. This is important to mention because at its core, classical music is a magnifying glass for feelings. It goes through the entire spectrum of emotions because it had to.
The same way metal was founded and ended up unifying these people who sometimes felt like outcasts, classical musicians are sometimes up their own ass for that same reason. according to unesco out of the around 7000 languages that exist today, over 6500 are going extinct. That’s… a lot. Music, just like language, can go extinct. Think of all the garage musicians that no one knows, or that song your friend made that has 10 views on youtube. Those are ideas and sounds that die the same way languages die when no one speaks them. Sure, some people give things more importance than they deserve; but when no one plays a genre anymore… Those ideas are lost. Imagine being the last person on earth to know of the existence of metallica. For some classical musicians, that threat is real; setting aside the natural classism and racism that exist within the confines of the genre– That is an entire research paper by itself and for the record, a lot of equally beautiful arabic and african and indigenous genres of music are even more threatened of extinction.
This is where fusion metal and my comic come in. I think given the fact that both of these genres have evolved into corners it would be interesting to present the music of the band in my comic as being classical fusion metal. It would be a great jumping off point for [spoilers] and would provide an excellent natural tension between the band members. In addition, it fixes an issue I had with the plot which is also amazing. In any case…
Next week we’ll be looking into something wildly unrelated to music. but that’s it for now.
devlog updates on tuesdays.
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