Bus

 

10.10

One. Zero. One. Zero.
Life in digital. Is it on or off?

All is one. Can we feel it all?
What moves us? What makes us stop?

Things we hear and things we don't.
Events we watch and events we won't.

What is happening?
Zero hour.

What art means to us

 

Here is a question haunting Brian Eno to this day. In a conversation with Vikas Shah uploaded in January, the British artist and musician recounts the story of how Joan Harvey - the mother of his ex-girlfriend - asked him: “Why would someone with a brain like yours waste it being an artist?” This precise question drove Eno to explore the reasons why humans make art and why we are creative. 

In this text I will quote the interview referenced above to help structure my summary of the past year through the lens of art. The banner picture of this article shows a snapshot by Mike Wall of a live concert. Musical performances are one form of artistic expression. Photography is another and so is dance, film, etc. Please feel free to apply what is discussed below to any artistic discipline of your choosing.

Imagination takes practice

“Playing is where children learn,” argues Eno at the beginning of his interview. When we were young, we developed both physical and mental skills through playing. The games we played as kids were all ways of saying: “Let’s pretend ...”. Now that we are adults, play continues to assist us in imagining things into being, and it takes practice.

As the pandemic confined us, many forms of play were scrapped or postponed. Some have been able to carry on, with the support of an organization I became co-founder of. Artists Unlimited created a platform enabling artists to organize paid live streams for fans to enjoy online. From the moment the virus hit until June of this year, Artists Unlimited hosted about 30 events ranging from rock, hip-hop and stand-up comedy to poetry, classical music and workshops.

According to Eno, play turns into becoming an artist as soon as you grow older. At some point in our lives we are told to get serious however, instead of doing things for the pleasure of doing them. Yes, art can be serious business, but most of the time it's actually not. I genuinely believe that even if the practice of art doesn’t generate a profit, it should never stop us from cherishing and pursuing it.

Before we could speak 

“We’re all a little lost and it’s alright.” Few phrases have managed to comfort me in the way that those lyrics did from Nightbirde’s song ‘It’s Okay’. It wasn’t just her lines to the song that made Simon Cowell hit the Golden Buzzer at America’s Got Talent. It was her gripping story, her kind delivery and - perhaps most importantly - the way she sang that song.

“There is a theory that we sang before we could speak,” posits Eno. If we assume that the act of singing predates everything, then it’s important that we arrive at a clear understanding about its value, what it does to us and how it makes us feel.

Vocabulary of feelings

“Art and culture give us a way to retrieve our lost ideals, actively connect to others, travel in time, communicate beyond words, and practice the hard work of participatory reality creation.” These are not Brian Eno’s words, but those of media theorist and podcast host Douglas Rushkoff. His 2020 book Team Human transformed into an online community and podcast series bearing the same name, still going strong after 196 episodes. In July I began paying a monthly donation to the show after being captivated by guests like graphic novelist Grant Morrison, comedian Duncan Trussell, musician Ella Minus and performance artist Kenya (Robinson).

Rushkoff’s quest over the years has been to recover and nurture our shared sense of humanity amidst the onslaught of extractive capitalism, techno-utopianism, reductionist scientism and climate catastrophe. What makes us human? Do we escape to outer space, surrender our agency to artificially intelligent robots, turn nihilist and regress to Us vs. Them? No, we remain open and meet each other halfway in that squishy centre where mystery and feelings reside. Experiencing art may allow us to do exactly that.

Works of art to draw upon and collectively engage with are essential to a well-functioning society. Why? Because often we are making our decisions on the basis of feelings. “Art exists to make us feel differently,” says Eno. “Art is cultivating a vocabulary of feelings and giving us a repertoire of experiences that we have feelings about.” By allowing art to affect us, we learn to respond more consciously to the world - as individuals or as a community.

The village well

How do we interpret people who dress a certain way? If a villager chooses to be dressed in an extravagant fashion, the village attempts to achieve consensus on it. A shared opinion about the matter helps to establish and reinforce group cohesion. Such social dynamics can be symbolized by the village well, a place where people would gather and discuss issues of the town.

As I started taking a language course this year, my evenings got filled with French movies and documentaries. One I came across was 'Christo & Jeanne-Claude - L’art de cacher, l’art de dévoiler' (available until December 13th via arte.tv). The documentary includes a magnificent sequence in which artists Christo and Jeanne-Claude speak up at a town hall meeting. Jeanne-Claude in particular makes her case for wrapping the Arkansas River in large textile materials - the couple’s signature style of outdoor intervention - thereby crossing the land of many farmers and landowners who have assembled in protest, preventing the artwork to be installed. “I believe that the majority wish to share an absolutely beautiful experience!” shouts Jeanne-Claude. Her plea is met with silence across the room. The project was eventually abandoned. Not all dreams come true, but some do. In September this year, the city of Paris featured the duo’s posthumous work ‘The Arc de Triomphe Wrapped’.

Visionary art

On some level, art remains a case of personal taste. Eno: “Maybe something could be art for somebody for a couple of minutes on one Sunday in January and never again for anybody else. Maybe something could be a piece of art for millions of people for a couple of months, like a hit single. Maybe something can be art for a few thousand people, but for a very long time.”

For a while now I have been fascinated with the work of a number of painters belonging to the category of visionary artists. A landmark series of exhibitions is currently being held at Mesa Arts Center in the state of Arizona featuring the works of Alex & Allyson Grey and Amanda Sage.

'The Great Wave of Trainsformation' by Amanda Sage & Joe Bob Merritt

Nearby in Las Vegas, digital renderings of the paintings by Sage and the Greys are part of Meow Wolf’s immersive installation Omega Mart at Area15. Visitors to the space are invited to walk through the Projected Desert, surrounded by animated imagery based on the painters’ work. Who provides the soundtrack to this artful desert trip? You guessed it: Brian Eno.

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What’s the takeaway here? Put effort and attention towards creative expression. Continue creating that more desirable reality. It’s never too late to discover what really matters to you. 

Merry festivities, happy new year and I wish you the best in times to come.

Thanks to the performance

 

At this year’s Oscars, the movie Sound of Metal - a Belgian co-production - was awarded with two statues for Best Sound and Best Editing. Actor Riz Ahmed propels the film’s story forward with an impressive performance as Ruben Stone, a formerly addicted metal drummer who loses his sense of hearing and joins a community of deaf people. 

In this short piece, I want to pay tribute to the work of actors, musicians and other performing artists alike. Ahmed’s contribution to Sound of Metal is an example of such work. Through his portrayal of the main character in the film, Ahmed shows us what it means to surrender to a subject and bring emotions to life. Those abilities are qualities that we generally attribute to accomplished performers.

A new language

Of course, performance isn’t simply a matter of losing yourself in the moment and doing whatever comes up. Without attracting too much attention to the fact, Ahmed’s performance actually displays a whole set of hard skills that few people possess. He learned how to play the drums for the part. The role required the British native to speak an American accent. On top of that, the actor needed to familiarize himself with a new language altogether, namely sign language.

Performing artists willingly dive into areas that many of us would never consider exploring. In doing so, artists are able to portray a side of life that can be very valuable for us to experience as an audience. In an interview with talk show host Stephen Colbert, Ahmed says:

“You start off watching a character that you feel like you can’t relate to and is so different to you. At the end of it you realize that there’s a kind of core of emotion and humanity that we all share.”

While preparing for the movie, Ahmed was initiated in the deaf community. It’s amazing to learn what the actor took away from that experience of being in contact with deaf people: “There’s a saying in the deaf community that hearing people are emotionally repressed because we hide behind words. We use words to mask our true feelings.” Later, he goes on to state: “I learned sign language but I also learned what real communication is, what real listening is, from the deaf community. And I’m so grateful for that.”

Gratitude

I find it unfortunate how we seem to lack the proper instruments to express our gratitude towards artists that move us. I was blown away after watching Sound of Metal, but I felt quite unable to offer a form of appreciation. Sure, we can buy a copy of the work, purchase the t-shirt or join the fan club. Still, it feels as though our selective praise for some chosen few can hardly amount to the abundance of powerful artistic expressions we encounter. This text should be seen as a very humble compensation in that regard.

Promoting the film, Riz Ahmed did a video call with actor Joaquin Phoenix. At the end of their conversation, I was surprised how clearly Phoenix spoke of his admiration for Ahmed’s performance. In a way, this is something we can all do nowadays over social media - to communicate a sincere thanks to a performer, in whatever form. It may carry another weight coming from a famous Hollywood actor, but that shouldn’t stop us all from taking the time.

Sound of Metal will be shown at Festival International du Film de Mons on July 10 & 11. Have fun at the movies!

Backstage - Responding to COVID-19

 

Backstage Door - picture by Justyna "Louvey" Wachowska

Have you ever been backstage?

Behind the curtain backdrops on stage you usually have a door opening to a hallway with dressing rooms. In other situations you will find a staircase leading to some ramshackle storage space with a sofa inside and a small makeshift dining table. Backstage is the place behind the scenes where you wait for your show to begin and it's the spot where you end up after it ends.

I'm convinced there is a backstage to our lives as well. It appears in many different forms. There are those moments when you catch yourself lost in thoughts. When you're looking up at the night sky. When you're waiting for the bus. When you're on the toilet. There is no performance there. No audience. Perhaps you experience stress or anticipation, but that's because you have things on your mind or you're caught up in emotions. Maybe it's something you ate. 

Backstage is a space in time where we can learn to become aware of ourselves, our bodies, feelings and thought processes during a moment of stillness. 

When a show is playing, you'd be surprised how little happens behind it all. The backrooms are deserted. The artists and audience members are engaged in the performance. At the end of the show, we need that spot backstage to retreat to and release the tensions we may have endured in the process of performing.

Artists each have their own way of preparing for a show and of coping with its aftereffects backstage. You'll come across types who are lying there to rest and those who are playing around with their pet animal. Others are doing warm-up exercises and are practicing their parts for one final time. And then there are those who fill up on mind-bending stimuli in order to perform their piece or come down from it.

Frontstage behavior

In the past, researchers have already made significant steps in describing backstage human behavior in the day-to-day context. The Canadian-American sociologist Erving Goffman is well-known for his book 'The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life' (1956) where he explains the distinction people make between frontstage and backstage behavior. According to Goffman, we offer our most positive self-concepts in the frontstage where we try to leave a desired impression for other people to perceive. Backstage we give ourselves permission to cast off any societal roles during times of privacy.

Browsing YouTube, I stumbled upon a testimony by Dr. Josh Packard of Springtide Research Institute in Minnesota. His video is aptly titled 'Front Stage, Back Stage'. He tells us he's gotten up early to talk about how he has been experiencing the current pandemic. Packard and his organization share lots of info for young people to deal with the effects of social isolation. 

Packard mentions that there has been a big uptake in loneliness among 13-to-25-year-olds. One in three young Americans feel completely alone much of the time. This alarming evolution had already begun way before Corona. Packard is confident that statistics will remain high after the virus has been dealt with. Springtide has recently published its report 'Belonging: Reconnecting America's Loneliest Generation', which you can read about here.

Packard argues the frontstage and backstage we knew from before COVID-19 are completely gone: "There are norms that we establish that give us a sense of certainty - both cognitively and socially - about what our day is going to look like, what our actions are going to look like. That has been totally lost. (...) When we are all working from home, living with each other and being socially distanced - but many of us in homes with other people - the frontstage and backstage just goes completely away."

Social norms are clearly properties of the frontstage area. That's where roles and identities come into play. I would argue however that the real work in front of us needs to occur backstage. And that backstage area could be hidden behind another door altogether. 

Asking questions

What if backstage is not simply the domain of personal privacy and self-talk, but a hidden field from which we can observe those same notions? What if we choose to tackle the challenges of our current crisis not just through forms of social analysis or psychoanalysis, but by

- adopting a cosmic perspective?

- experience with psychedelic states?

- re-establishing balance to the natural world?

- correcting harmful eating habits that affect our brains?

All of the above are territories that the general public rarely gets to see, similar to the backstage environments at shows. I personally believe it's time we bring such regions to light simply to raise consciousness. We can start from the comfort of our own homes as we learn to ask the most basic of questions. 

If we are to craft new routines for our daily lives - and those of young people - can we allow human beings to take a rest backstage? Chances are this will engender in them a sense of belonging.

This was 2019 - Passing the torch

 

Alex Grey - The Torch

It is January 7th and we are sitting at a round table in the dining area of the Grey House. Lunch hour is over for guests and volunteers. No one is sitting at the other tables and there is me, Alex and Allyson Grey and Hospitality Manager Genevieve Wood listening intently. 

The night before I had left the house after dark to explore the Wisdom Trail that cuts through the surrounding woodland. Located in scenic Hudson Valley, NY, the artist retreat Chapel of Sacred Mirrors serves as a sanctuary for the creative spirit. It also acts as an exhibition space for the visionary artwork of the Greys and numerous other artists. 

Walking through the forest with a map of the domain and a small flashlight in hand, I froze up when I heard rustling bushes and noticed a silhouette nearby reaching to about hip height. The hunched creature made a hissing sound when I pointed in its direction and I turned away, returning to the path I had abandoned. 

"May have been a coyote. Or a bobcat," says Alex. 

"The animal spirits are not at peace," says Genevieve to the Greys. "They haven't gotten used to our human presence here yet. We have to respect their boundaries." The others at the table agree and, naturally, so do I. 

Youth for Climate 

Three days later I am back in Belgium. Riding the train from where I live to Antwerp there is a girl across from me holding a cardboard sign inside a tote bag. It reads 'Youth For Climate'. She exits at Central Station where she joins other students carrying other slogans: 'Protect What You Love', 'Where Is My Future?', 'Climate Change Is Happening'. 

2019 became the year of climate protests. Time Magazine's Person of the Year Greta Thunberg walked the streets of Antwerp on February 28th in solidarity with the youth movement. Parents and grandparents joined in that day to express support for the cause. 

Many of the protesters have been blaming previous generations for their inaction. I believe more progress can be made by sharing our concerns with those people that have come before us, without resorting to condemnation. Knowledge and wisdom must be imparted from one generation to the next. That is what we call 'passing the torch'. 

Midsommar 

This year's favorite film Midsommar takes that same notion of generational passage and turns it around in a horrific way. A group of American students are invited by their Swedish classmate Pelle to visit his hometown. They attend the midsummer festivities of the local commune he grew up in. Upon their arrival, Pelle informs the rest about the peculiar rituals performed by the Swedish community: 

"We think of life like the seasons. You are a child until 18, and that’s the Spring. At some point we all do our Pilgrimage, and that’s between 18 and 36. That is Summer. Then, from 36 to 54, you’re of working age, which is Fall. And finally from 54 to 72, you become a mentor." 

"What happens when you turn 72, then?" asks one of his classmates. Pelle makes a comical throat slash gesture, to the amusement of the Americans. 

As the story goes on to show, the people of the commune in fact do have an unusually cruel way of keeping traditions. The film slowly builds to an overwhelming finale, in which the evil spirits of the past are set aflame to make room for the promise of the new. 

Tool 

After 13 years, music outfit Tool returns with a new release: Fear Inoculum. The metal opus reaches No.1 on Billboard's Top 200, thereby dethroning Taylor Swift's 'Lover'. 

Just like on the two previous records, Alex Grey contributed to the cover art for the album. The imagery is a clear reference to one of Grey's earlier works, entitled 'Polar Unity' (1975). We see a form of tunnel spiraling from dark to light, a dim sign of hope amid a black mysterious vortex. 

In many ways, it feels as if we are living in dark times. The challenges that lie before us can be paralyzing and almost insurmountable, be it environmental, social or technological. The point may be to acknowledge this and to find purpose in consciously lighting the flame inside each and everyone of us. 

Vocalist Maynard James Keenan calls out in 'Pneuma': "Wake up now, child. Release the light." 

Wishing you warm festivities and an illuminating, wondrous new year.

Who am I?

Who am I? It´s a question I have asked myself seriously about a decade ago. For my first Icebreaker speech in the Toastmasters club, we travel back to that moment in time. 

The short story is as follows: my name is Sven Goyvaerts, I am 34 years young and born in Antwerp. But that´s not saying much, is it? 

This year I joined the Toastmasters public speaking club for a number of reasons. I feel I need to speak from my own voice. Since I have become a manager, I have to be able to take the lead. I want to exercise in being present in the moment. And most of all, this club offers an opportunity to share stories. 

So let us return to ten years in the past. 

Play 

In 2009, a friend of a friend was producing a theatre play. A central image in this play was a large empty clock that was suspended high above the stage. It was empty because there were no numbers in it to indicate the hours. In preparation of the play, this friend had asked people she knew if they wanted to fill in the empty spaces in the clock. She explained how doing this would allow you to make your own image of time. 

There is a series of icons that I linked to the clock. Some of them are more obvious than others. You have the musical icon, reflecting my passion for producing music. On the opposite side, there is a knife and a fork to illustrate my daily food intake. Each of the icons portray a particular activity that represents my personal time and who I am. I completed the clock until I felt satisfied with the result. Then, after a while, something struck me as frightening. 

Fictions 

The assignment made me aware of how I am made up out of a collection of concepts or ideas. One can even call them fictions. Throughout history, people have conceived of stories that form the fabric of who I am, supposedly. There is the Superman icon that embodies me wanting to be a hero. Superman is essentially a comic book story. The love icon is informed by love stories embedded in my brain, forming a picture of what it means to be in a relationship with someone. 

In the middle of the picture I depict an S for Sven, but it is blurred and fading, more of a question mark. Is there an aspect that is really me? Am I simply juggling different activities or character traits, masquerading as myself, covering an uncertain center? Am I living in a big circus? These are questions that haunt me to this day. 

Exercise 

I have internalized the clock by now. When I wake up around 6 in the morning, I am reminded of the I icon in the bottom of the clock, without having to look at it. The I, for me, marks our oneness as a collective consciousness. It gives me a chance to meditate on this at the start of the day. 

As an exercise, try drawing a picture of an empty clock. Reflect on yourself. Design your time.