In total disaster we trust. In progress. One of my faves recently. Seems fitting that the film get fogged on those photos on this roll.
The Santa Claus parade, seen from Corner tattoo. People were packed tight as sardines, but that didn't last long 'cause they all got burned up to bits by a dragon.
So, I'm at my new shop, here are a couple visual samples of what your eyes will behold if you come see me. Just a couple promo shots, I'll have lots more coming of the new work I'm up to and my new space soon.
My work hours are 11 - 7 Monday to Friday. If you come by before noon, please call first, because we aren't quite open yet.
Both are fragments of works by Cory Arcangel. The difference between them is significant. The first one is a joke - it is a repetition, a trick played on the idea of reproduction or universality. The other one too. But the other one moves towards something else. It provides us with the doubt as to what it should be like. I don't know Schoenberg's op. 11, 3. I might have heard it, but I'm not sure how it sounds. Yet it certainly doesn't sound like these cats. Or does it? What is it about Schoenberg that makes him sound like Schoenberg? And why do we need him to sound like Schoenberg? (Why do we call artists people who interpret in the most faithful way? And no, this is not a rhetorical question. What is it about repetition that still makes it move us aesthetically? And no, any form of the answer "the difference within the repetition" will not satisfy me as long as I keep putting the same piece on my mp3 player and enjoy it beause it is the same, and still appreciate its freshness, not its "difference".) The thing, here, is not just about the cats, it isn't the old elephant-making-oil-paintings trick. It is rather about other possibilities of listening, of paying attention, of defining what you hear. Can we hear the Schoenberg in the original cat videos? Can we hear Bach in the original music versions? The Bach composition, in that sense, says too much - it states a clear correspondence between the original YouTube videos and Bach's work. The second says less: it says "it is out there, but it's hard to say where exactly, and why exactly we would stop there". (And does it while being damn funny). And that's when our ears melt and reconsolidate, they become other ears, and other, and other. We are forced to listen to what might be there, and not what we think is there. So why do I like the first video more? Maybe because I still enjoy what is there a lot. Or because I'm not a fan of Schoeberg.
Both are fragments of works by Cory Arcangel. The difference between them is significant. The first one is a joke - it is a repetition, a trick played on the idea of reproduction or universality. The other one too. But the other one moves towards something else. It provides us with the doubt as to what it should be like. I don't know Schoenberg's op. 11, 3. I might have heard it, but I'm not sure how it sounds. Yet it certainly doesn't sound like these cats. Or does it? What is it about Schoenberg that makes him sound like Schoenberg? And why do we need him to sound like Schoenberg? (Why do we call artists people who interpret in the most faithful way? And no, this is not a rhetorical question. What is it about repetition that still makes it move us aesthetically? And no, any form of the answer "the difference within the repetition" will not satisfy me as long as I keep putting the same piece on my mp3 player and enjoy it beause it is the same, and still appreciate its freshness, not its "difference".) The thing, here, is not just about the cats, it isn't the old elephant-making-oil-paintings trick. It is rather about other possibilities of listening, of paying attention, of defining what you hear. Can we hear the Schoenberg in the original cat videos? Can we hear Bach in the original music versions? The Bach composition, in that sense, says too much - it states a clear correspondence between the original YouTube videos and Bach's work. The second says less: it says "it is out there, but it's hard to say where exactly, and why exactly we would stop there". (And does it while being damn funny). And that's when our ears melt and reconsolidate, they become other ears, and other, and other. We are forced to listen to what might be there, and not what we think is there. So why do I like the first video more? Maybe because I still enjoy what is there a lot. Or because I'm not a fan of Schoeberg.
Both are fragments of works by Cory Arcangel. The difference between them is significant. The first one is a joke - it is a repetition, a trick played on the idea of reproduction or universality. The other one too. But the other one moves towards something else. It provides us with the doubt as to what it should be like. I don't know Schoenberg's op. 11, 3. I might have heard it, but I'm not sure how it sounds. Yet it certainly doesn't sound like these cats. Or does it? What is it about Schoenberg that makes him sound like Schoenberg? And why do we need him to sound like Schoenberg? (Why do we call artists people who interpret in the most faithful way? And no, this is not a rhetorical question. What is it about repetition that still makes it move us aesthetically? And no, any form of the answer "the difference within the repetition" will not satisfy me as long as I keep putting the same piece on my mp3 player and enjoy it beause it is the same, and still appreciate its freshness, not its "difference".) The thing, here, is not just about the cats, it isn't the old elephant-making-oil-paintings trick. It is rather about other possibilities of listening, of paying attention, of defining what you hear. Can we hear the Schoenberg in the original cat videos? Can we hear Bach in the original music versions? The Bach composition, in that sense, says too much - it states a clear correspondence between the original YouTube videos and Bach's work. The second says less: it says "it is out there, but it's hard to say where exactly, and why exactly we would stop there". (And does it while being damn funny). And that's when our ears melt and reconsolidate, they become other ears, and other, and other. We are forced to listen to what might be there, and not what we think is there. So why do I like the first video more? Maybe because I still enjoy what is there a lot. Or because I'm not a fan of Schoeberg.
I'm excited to say that After a great year at Corner Tattoo, I've been given an opportunity to fill a spot at Rebel Waltz Tattoo. It's surprising to me to be leaving Corner Tattoo so soon, but opportunity knocks, and I'm obliged to answer. The shop is owned by Don Ritson, who has been putting some nice tattoos on people. He also has another artist named Sypras working, in a smooth, realistic comic style. I will be fully moved over by the new year, and for now looks like Thursday, Friday and Saturday I'll be at Rebel Waltz, likewise next week.
