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Wednesday, January 31, 2007

FIRST, SECOND (THIRD...BODY)

1) First, here's a poem by Robert Bly -

A Third Body

A man and a woman sit near each
other, and they bo not long
at this moment to be older, or younger,
nor born
in any other nation, or time, or place.
They are content to be where they are,
talking or not-talking.
Their breaths together feed
someone whom we do not know.
The man sees the way his fingers move;
he sees her hands close around a
book she hands to him.
They obey a third body that
they share in common.
They have made a promise to
love that body.
Age may come, parting may come,
death will come.
A man and a woman sit near
each other;
as they breathe they feed someone
we do not know,
someone we know of, whom
we have never seen.

2) Second, here's the question: what do you think is that third body?

Sunday, January 21, 2007

THE CHALLENGE OF ART

Part I

Glenn D. Lowry, Director of MoMa, states that the Museum is predicated on the proposition that the art of our time - modern art - is as vital and important as the art of the past. Being one of the high profile modern art galleries in the world, MoMa, per Lowry, has continued in its dual quest of promoting avant-garde, and serving the interests of the public, by attempting to define a canon of modern art.

But the question is, Has a canon of art already been defined to enable MoMa to trim it into a special definition further not only in prospects of time but also of acceptance?

Here's my point for the moment: In one of MoMa's bigger rooms on one of the floors for permanent exhibits is a strange looking assemblage of unstrange objects that will never fail to draw attention from even the most uninterested visitor - an "artwork" by the American Marcel Duchamp (1887-1968) that had come to be known as the Bicycle Wheel.

Bicycle Wheel is understandably called that because it is almost exactly that, a bicycle wheel mounted upside down on a kitchen stool, no more nor less, and the issue that resounds heavily on the gabbler of artistic judgment is that which resounds heavily on the gabbler of art: Is this art? (or if we make the question more specific, as if it helps really, Is this modern art?)

The assembler of Bicycle Wheel (on this piece I will not otherwise call Duchamp a creator considering that the components of Bicycle Wheel are pre-exisiting "readymade" objects that are "end" in themselves) had somehow, unwittingly or un, aligned his artistic curiosity with the idea that MoMa had now wanted us to recognize - that modern art implies an institution that is forever willing to court controversy - for Duchamp himself admitted that Bicycle Wheel was his way of challenging the limits of what could be considered as art.

Obviously, MoMa considered Bicycle wheel as art, as Art, as An Important Piece Of Modern Art, by the significant space it was made to occupy on one of the floors reserved for permanent exhibits, made more important by what I remember vaguely as some restraining object (string? space? advisory?) that prevented onlookers from coming very close to touching it and exercising the urge to roll the wheel like you used to do with the roullete in your favorite backyard carnaval. (And if you asked me, that restraining object could have been a yellow police tape that announces the spot, officially, as a crime scene.)

The great Ralph Waldo Emerson, in his essay Art, denotes our own inherent connection to art in this heavenly vein: The traveller who visits the Vatican and passes from chamber to chamber through galleries of statues, vases, sarcophagi and candelabra, through all forms of beauty cut in the richest materials, is in danger of forgetting the simplicity of the principles out of which they all sprung, and that they had their origin from thoughts and laws in his own breast.

Ruminating on Emerson's words, Duchamp's Bicylce Wheel actually gives me a heavy paroxysm on my chest, yet I keep my judgment on probation, so educate me please:

Is Bicycle Wheel, in your own honest artistic opinion, a work of art?

Sunday, January 14, 2007

HIRAYA

gusto kong manood ng pan's labyrinth kaso lang ang layo ng sinehan, merong malapit pero ang mahal ng parking, parking shit na yan, sabi nga ni rico punas kung sino pa ang mahal mo sya pang nawawala sa yo, pano kaya ito mahal na mahal ko pa naman ang bait ko

yung co-worker ko sa miami na cute at taga chile di kami nagkikita dahil magkaiba kami ng department (tsaka di naman ako lumalabas ng opisina ko kahit lunch hour kasi nagbabaon ako) akalain mo ba namang sa nilaki-laki ng manhattan e dun pa kami nagkita, maryosep! sabi ko, anak ka ng chile, ano ginagawa mo dito?, sabi nya, wala manonood lang ako ng phantom of the opera gusto ko kasi makita yung pagbagsak ng chandelier, ayun bago sya manood (kasama nya yung pinsang nyang saksakan ng bading na magtititili sa tuwing makakakita ng pogi -daw -ayyyy baby daddy! baby daddy!) dinala ko muna sila sa carmine's at ng matikman nila ang pinakamatinding chicken parmesan sa balat ng kokorokokok

kahapon kasama ko nanay ko at pinagmaneho ko dahil may errands daw sya, habang daan nakikinig ako ng bagong cd ni damien rice na nun ko lang pakikinggan, tas si inay naman e humuhuni-huni lang na parang ibon, e di ayus kako, sinasabayan nya yung kanta ni damien rice, lalala ganda ng 1st track na 9 crimes, tas nung pagdating sa sa ika-apat ata na track bigla ba namang sumigaw si damien rice, fucckk yooouuu! fuccckk yyyooouuu! nagulantang ang nanay ko, sabi nya, ano daw?, sagot ko, ewan ko po di ko po naintindihan po, tas nun pinatay ko na ang cd player, sinabi ko na lang sa sarili ko, f you 2 damien kanin, huling pakikinig ko na sa yo yun gago kah

nabasa ko minsan yung quote kay pascal na ang tao day ay binubuo ng dalawang abyss: infinity and nothingness, ahehe, naisip ko tuloy, aba e lahat pala tayo pointing man (basahin nyo na lang po yung post ko sa baba), pero may koneksyon din kaya to dun sa tukoy ni w. szymbroska sa tula nyang "tortures" kung saan ang bawat stanza ay pinangungunahan ng linyang -

"nothing has changed"

pero tapos nun kung ano-anong ebolusyon na ng buhay at kalikasan ang binabanggit nya, hanggang sa dumating sa punto na para kang nakatanaw sa takbo ng buhay from atop, at a distance (yung para kang satellite) at tipong hinuha mo teka teka teka pabagu-bago nga tayo pero pero pero paikot ikot ikot ikot lang ang lahat lahat...