Manolo Millares. Cuadro 50, 1959

Karel Teige

Karel Teige

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Manolo Millares, 1959

Manolo Millares, 1959
“I cannot be satisfied until I speak with angels
I require to behold the eye of god
to cast my own being into the cosmos as bait for miracles
to breathe air and spew visions
to unlock that door which stands already open and enter into the presence
of that which I cannot imagine
I require answers for which I have not yet learned the questions

I demand the access of enlightenment, the permutation into the miraculous
the presence of the unendurable light

perhaps in the same way that caterpillars demand their lepidoptera wings
or tadpoles demand their froghood
or the child of man demands his exit
from the safe warm womb”
— Lenore Kandel, “Age of Consent”

“Neither animals of different species, nor men of different cultures, nor any individual, animal or human, inhabits the same world as another, however close and similar these living individuals may be (humans or animals), and the difference from one world to the other will remain forever uncrossable, the community of the world being always constructed, simulated by a group of stabilizing positings [dispositifs], more or less stable, therefore also never natural, language in the broad sense, codes of traces being destined, with all the living, to construct a unity of the world always deconstructible and nowhere and never given in nature. Between my world, (the “my world”; what I call “my world,” and there is no other for me, every other world making up part of it), between my world and every other world, there is initially the space and the time of an infinite difference, of an interruption incommensurable with all the attempts at passage, of bridge, of isthmus, of communication, of translation, of trope, and of transfer which the desire for a world and the sickness of the world [mal du monde], the being in sickness of the world [l’être en mal de monde] will attempt to pose, to impose, to propose, to stabilize. There is no world, there are only islands. That is one of the thousand directions toward which I would interpret the last line of a short and great poem by Celan: Die Welt ist fort, ich muss dich tragen, [The world is gone, I have to carry you] poem of mourning or of birth.”
— Jacques Derrida, “La Bête et le souverain”

Say: I am real, this is real, the world is real, and nobody laughs. But say: this is a simulacrum, you are only a simulacrum, this war is a simulacrum, and everybody bursts out laughing. With a condescending and yellow laughter, or perhaps a convulsive one, as if it was a childish joke or an obscene invitation. Anything which belongs to the order of simulacrum is obscene or forbidden, similar to that which belongs to sex or death. However, our belief in reality and evidence is far more obscene. Truth is what should be laughed at. One may dream of a culture where everyone bursts into laughter when someone says: this is true, this is real.
Jean Baudrillard

Kakurenbo ~ Take, Run, Lookback.

a closer listen

coverThe first physical release from Unperceived Records, Take, Run, Lookback is a lovely way to launch the line.  A beautiful blue still photo graces the cover of the mini CD, lodged in a handmade paper sleeve.  To use the obvious line, Unperceived is now perceived.

This short yet endearing set comes from the Japanese duo Kakurenbo (Hide and Seek).  True to its name, the duo likes to hide little treasures within their recordings: droplets on “Yasugara”, the sea in “Tayutau”, toy piano and ukulele throughout.  Billed as ambient, the duo might also be considered electronic, especially given the stuttering beeps and bleats of key track “Dokoka”.  The inner pace may be slow, but the outer pace is swift, a heart of waltz with a nod to glitch.  The sounds wander from speaker to speaker like the sheets of rain shown on the cover.  The storm dances in the cracks between the…

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