sábado, outubro 24, 2009

Mayakovsky, 4

Now I am quietly waiting for
the catastrophe of my personality
to seem beautiful again,
and interesting, and modern.

The country is grey and
brown and white in trees,
snows and skies of laughter
always diminishing, less funny
not just darker, not just grey.

It may be the coldest day of
the year, what does he think of
that? I mean, what do I? And if I do,
perhaps I am myself again.

Frank O'Hara

Hoje, em Mad Men.

sexta-feira, outubro 23, 2009

Walcott



Vampire Weekend, XL (2008).

The holy Roman empire roots for you

Mais disto

quinta-feira, outubro 22, 2009

Where The Wild Things Are


Sou só eu, ou isto é delicioso?

- Did you make this?

- Yeah... it's gonna be a place where only the things you want to happen, happen.

- We can totally build a place like that.

A place like that.

terça-feira, outubro 13, 2009

quarta-feira, outubro 07, 2009

Falaram-me agora disto, de certa forma


Rain, Steam, and Speed - Turner (1844).

terça-feira, outubro 06, 2009

Candy Says


Candy says I hate the quiet places
that cause the smallest taste of what will be
Candy says I hate the big decisions
that cause endless revisions in my mind


Eu reconheci daqui.

via Clayton Cubitt

Enquanto esperava 10/15 minutos

"O artista que tem uma visão pessoal do mundo só tem valor se a comunicação visual, o suporte da imagem, tiver um valor objectivo; doutro modo, encontra-se no mundo dos códigos mais ou menos secretos, pelo que algumas mensagens são percebidas apenas por poucas pessoas; aliás, as mesmas que já conheciam a mensagem".

Bruno Munari, Design e Comunicação Visual (1968).

quinta-feira, outubro 01, 2009

Afghanistan: chronotopia


Mikhail Bakhtin might have called this kind of landscape a "chronotope": a place that allows movement through space and time simultaneously, a place that displays the "layeredness" of time. The chronotopia of Afganistan is like a mirror, shattered and thrown into the mud of the past; the shards are glittering fragments, echoing previous civilizations and lost greatness.

Na foto, um homem vendedor de balões (proibidos durante o regime Taliban), junto do que já foi uma casa de chá no meio de um parque.

As fotografias do Afeganistão de Simon Norfolk são parte de um projecto abrangente a que ele chama Et in Arcadia ego, que pretende reflectir sobre a forma como a guerra (e a nossa necessidade de a travar) formou o nosso mundo:

What these landscape have in common - their basis in war - is fundamentally downplayed in our society. I was astounded to discover that the long, straight, bustling, commercial road that runs through my old neighborhood of London follows an old Roman road. [...] Crucially, the road system built by the Romans was their highest military technology, their equivalent of the stealth bomber [...] - a technology that allowed a huge empire to be maintained by a relatively small army. [...] It is extraordinary that London, a city that should be shaped by Tudor kings, the British Empire, Victorian engineers and modern international Finance, is a city fundamentally drawn, even to this day, by abandoned Roman military hardware.

Losing My Edge



LCD Soundsystem, Losing My Edge (DFA, 2002).

And to be honest I was afraid that this new found coolness was going to go away and that’s where ‘Losing My Edge’ comes from. It is about being horrified by my own silliness. And then it became a wider thing about people who grip onto other people’s creations like they are their own. There is a lot of pathos in that character though because it’s born out of inadequacy and love.