What I need in art is new, the new. Not the newest new, but the simple new. The new is always simple: you can easily understand the newness of the new. Simple is how you can see if the new is new, the only new. Only the new, because only the new is necessary. In art, the unnew is not necessary; only the new is necessary. Necessary makes art, necessary is new. This is why the new is alone. Not sad alone but new alone, because alone is new is necessary. Only the new comes alone, because the new is so necessary that it is necessary to be alone to understand it.
jeudi, février 28, 2008
mardi, février 26, 2008
Conjuguer amélipouliniser au présent de l'indicatif (If you need an experienced graphist for desiging your ext film poster, please hire me, the best in my category: respect the spriti, the spelling, the authentcity, the charte graphique, the good taste and everything for a cheap price. write yurgrpahististhe best@yahoo;com))
J'amélipoulinise Edith Piaf
Tu amélipoulinises Edith Piaf
Il amélipoulinise Edith Piaf
Nous amélipoulinisons Edith Piaf
Vous amélipoulinisez Edith Piaf
Ils amélipoulinisent Edith Piaf
(If you need an experienced graphist for desiging your ext film poster, please hire me, the best in my category: respect the spriti, the spelling, the authentcity, the charte graphique, the good taste and everything for a cheap price. write yurgrpahististhe best@yahoo;com))
mardi, février 19, 2008
Alin Huma is curating Ginza the edge in Tokyo, and you only have a few days now to buy your airplane ticket, book your hotel and go to see the 4 christmas trees photos I show in the exhibition (plus the ones by Naoki Matsuyama, Pete Toms and Arnaud Meuleman). I know, you're about to say: "it's a lot of money for one exhibition". But look, you can go back to your country straight after, so you won't spend too much money, you, the avare one.
dimanche, février 17, 2008
jeudi, février 14, 2008
"This is the first in a series of exhibitions organized by Tokyo photographer, editor and small press publisher Alin Huma on the theme of “the edge”. As the exhibitions unfold each show will in some way relate to the idea of an edge, a margin…in this case the border where stuff can barely stand in a gallery or fall into the ‘photo-bucket’
…the kind of stuff and feelings and ideas that will never make it onto the walls of the regular Ginza gallery beat.
The inaugural edge show features the work of four people from different parts of the world - Naoki Matsuyama (Milan), Pete Toms (New York), Arnaud Meuleman (Brussels) and Gilles Weinzapflen (Paris) - who represent samples of life in the twenty-first century as seen through the lens of a digital camera and often posted on the internet. Their photos should be understood as what they are - documents of lives expressed and lived on blogs, journals and diaries. So, while they use photography to share with us what they see, they are not photographers, at least not in any preciously dull and ostentatiously posturing high art sense.
This relaxed, yet fully engaged, approach to representing their worlds allows them to capture the inbetweenness of life in the twenty-first century, when things could go either way, when things have not yet settled into any one place. It sounds simple but it’s actually the hardest task - to simply be at the edge of things and find a new language to reveal the uncertainty of the space and time of what was before and what has yet to come. As well as catching the nuances of all of this and the requisite references to marginality and so forth, Huma’s title is a nod to U2’s The Edge - the man who used to feature in the top 10 guitarist lists despite never having done a solos. In particular, though, Huma is referencing the soaring and biting soundscapes of the three U2 post-modern albums of the 90s.
So, as The Edge’s guitar playing sounds like it is carving out spaces, and is in continual motion between zones of association, so too does this show (andits subsequent related exhibitions) explore the idea of the edge in a variety of manifestations. There are physical edges like cliffs as well as temporal, purely immaterial, edges like Christmas trees in the early days of January…
Antonin Gaultier" (aka DIGIKI)
mercredi, février 13, 2008
Sandrine Bonnaire, a beautiful french actress who played with Jacques Rivette and Maurice Pialat, made a documentary about her sister Sabine, an autist person. She started to film her sister 15 years ago, as she was a beautiful young woman. After 5 years of medication and mental hospital, she has changed a lot: behavior, body shape, mental condition: a disaster. But she's still Sabine, a solid woman who's totally depending on other's love.
Dis-able: being unable to. Watch. Think. Walk. Move. This word sounds more tragic in english than in french: handicapé doesn't mean that you can't do anything, you (only) have more (a lot more) difficulties. So why having people like this in this world? We don't need them and the world is not a good place for them, because this is a body world.
Disinterested love. We have a lot to learn through disinterested love... A disabled person is not only a freak but also a way to see the world differently. Meeting someone with no eyes (like my little brother Julien who's blind), you understand that you can see the world without eyes, with words. A trisomic person can teach you what simple means. We are disabled as long as we are not able to love the otherness of the other.
lundi, février 11, 2008
It was the second time that I watched Rude Boy, a 1979 movie that features the Clash, at my friend Olivier's festival Combat Rock. The film is a fiction but also a documentary about the Clash in 1978, the british social and political climate when Margaret Thatcher became prime minister. The Clash are so good, so young, so beautiful; especially Paul Simonon with his Steve Mac Queen punk allure. The Clash have a lot of problems with justice in the movie, just being punk musicians. The main character of the film is Ray Gange, a fan, a friend, a sex shop employee who's becoming a Clash roadie. Ray Gange is the perfect soft punk, as I was a little bit myself in 82/83. The incredible achievement of this movie is to have been there as the Clash were at their best, fiction sticking to the real events being filmed. Yes, this is probably the best thing you can do in film: opening a door between fiction and reality.
vendredi, février 08, 2008
Edward is from Poland. I like him a lot, we almost got friends. He bought a bottle of champagne for my birthday that we drank early in the morning on the chantier. He also offered me a portefeuille with a 10 euros banknote in it as a porte bonheur.
I can almost drink like he does, like a polish guy. I had a good training period when I was 17, starting every morning with pure gin. I wanted to fight shyness, ereutophobia, and being able to express the revolt I felt without psychological barriers. After 6 months I started to feel pain in my tummy; this is how I stopped drinking. No, I stopped the day when my bottle of gin fell in the highschool courtyard, bouncing on the steps with a loud sound, amplified by the high walls, all eyes around watching me. Or I stopped drinking the day my father proposed some schnaps to his invités and the transparent alcohol has turned into water, thanks to the reversed Cana miracle I made...
Edward is working very hard in Paris, like many of his compatriotes. He is a very generous man who also studied philosophy for 2 years. When I told him about some of my film ideas, he gave me the best art advice I ever had: be simple; make simple. Don't put purée or bouillie in people's head. Then he made sparks again, holding a screw, narrowing its head with an electric saw, risking his own finger without even thinking of it.
lundi, février 04, 2008
I had no news from my old friend Etienne Jaumet, a talented saxophonist and an analog electronic sound addict. Etienne played saxophone on my first album. He started recently Zombie Zombie, an extremely minimal ADDNTOX like duet. Good, but I was waiting for him to go back to the souffle (breath) and mix his many souffle talents with analog electronics. This is done for a few months! The result is astonishing. Listen to Repeat again after me, a minimal chef d'oeuvre, to the end.