MEDUSA TV

MEDUSA TV

cataclysms, cats, trips, visions, intravenous visual deliriums, spontaneous and visceral tantrik lyricism, dangerous art & lifestyle, molotov cocktails & lullabies, SCHIZOPoP MANIFESTO, Shamanoise Poetry, amour fou, absinthe & everything you'll never learn in school - A Tribute to the emptiness & boredom of our generation, turned to stone by countless Medusa brands

HENRIK AESHNA & JEAN-JACQUES LEBEL IN NYC DADA JOURNAL 'MAINTENANT' 9

i'm honored to be included in the 2015 issue of MAINTENANT (my second consecutive time on the crime scene), this time doing a duet with Jean-Jacques Lebel with a piece titled Bloomerbeast. Maintenant 9 is edited by my lovely darlings & multitalented agitators Peter Carlaftes & Kat Georges from NYC-based publisher Three Rooms Press, and also features friends Steve Dalachinsky, Antonia Alexandra Klimenko, Claude Pélieu, Mary Beach, Exene Cervenka (of LA punk band X), Raymond Pettibon, Grant Hart (of Husker Du), Mike Watt, Charles Plymell, and many other international conspirators. Go & order yr copy here: http://www.amazon.com/Maintenant-Journal-Contemporary-Dada-Writing/dp/1941110207

 

 

 

LIVE ART PERFORMANCE INSTALLATION Nönude#23 (org. Sarah Cassenti) 30 JUIN au Générateur

performing here (wild drawings) on the 30th of June as Vanya Yudin...

 

[ MODELE VIVANT - INSTALLATION - DESSIN ]

Un atelier d’expérimentations & de recherches live ouvert aux dessinateurs & étudiants d’écoles d’art.

Le Nönude est une séance de travail initiée par Sarah Cassenti, un atelier de recherches live au croisement de la mise en scène et de la performance.
Le Nönude nait des visions de Sarah Cassenti et devient une installation post-monitoire où se rencontrent modèles, dessinateurs et performeurs.
Les modèles y sont libres et les traits aussi.

En présence de Maya Arbel (Israël). Avec Hélène Defilippi, Irena Andreeva, Naomi Shka, Vanya Yudin (aka Henrik Aeshna), Mogly Speix, Comte de Drangiag, Salvatore Spada, Sarah Cassenti, David Coignard et Paule Vera Paule.

Atelier limité à 20 participants !

Date : le 30 juin de 15h à 00 h

15h : Atelier -
20h : Concert de Jeffrey Louis-Reed et création vidéo de David Coignard - Entrée libre

Si vous êtes intéressé, merci de nous contacter :
> par mail : marion.augusto@legenerateur.com avec comme objet «Nönude»

> par tel : 01 49 86 99 14

Plus d’informations :
http://nonude.tumblr.com/ / www.legenerateur.com

Tarif : 10€
Gratuit pour les étudiants

 
 

AMOUR & AUTRES HALLUCINOGENES - Love & Other Hallucinogens (IN PROGRESS)

tes yeux...

 

 

 

Love & other hallucinogens - photo by Henrik Aeshna

 

 

 

Manifeste de la folie (extrait d'Amour & autres hallucinogènes) par Henrik Aeshna

 

 

SCHIZOPoP MANIFESTO - PARIS HALLUCINATED CAROUSEL ON FIRE : THURSTON MOORE

 

 

Henrik Aeshna & Thurston Moore, Paris, 13 October 2013 - Photo by Love Terrier

 

Meeting with Thurston Moore the Giant again (in less than 3 weeks) after his noise solo at La Maison de la Poésie, a brief intimate display of instinctual outpouring, spontaneity & concision, or in other words, Thurston Moore at his rawest & purest: streetwise Animism or just how he's supposed to play when in his basement or greenhouse -

we fell into each other outside and we both laughed when he remarked "This is my new house", referring to his 2nd appearance at La Maison in less than 1 month (when we first met) -  He looked so radiant & expansive then, as if still soaked with electrolyte after his performance - As we were talking about William Burroughs, he asked me about Joyce Mansour, the black witch of surrealism, and in exchange, for my great delight, he gave me a few stories about Ted Joans & other cats .. ...  Tokyo Eye looming over the vast lipstick-drenched Parisian night

 

PS: Hey Thurston, drop Charles Plymell a line - I know you're out there touring abroad & making 1000 things & such, yet he'd love to hear from you again! Charlie told me so many cool stories about you & when you came at his place in the States years ago to show him the EP you & Sonic Youth had just put out, Kali Yug Express, dedicated to Claude Pélieu. 

Honored to meet you. Love & Noise, Hnrk

 

 

SCHIZOPoP MANIFESTO - PARIS HALLUCINATED CAROUSEL ON FIRE : LYDIA LUNCH

 

 

Lydia Lunch, La Java, Paris, 28 November 2013 - Photo by Henrik Aeshna

 

SCHIZOPoP MANIFESTO - PARIS HALLUCINATED CAROUSEL ON FIRE : JANDEK

 

 

Jandek, Cabaret Sauvage, Paris, 23 May 2013 - photo by Henrik Aeshna

 

SCHIZOPoP MANIFESTO - PARIS HALLUCINATED CAROUSEL ON FIRE : PIGALLE

 

 

Photo by Henrik Aeshna, Paris, 2012

 

 

 

Photo by Henrik Aeshna, Paris, 2012

 

KALEIDOSCOPIUM FOR WILLIAM S. BURROUGHS - SCHIZOPoP MANIFESTO INSTALLATION / SHAMANOISE HALLUCINEMA

 

 

KALEIDOSCOPIUM FOR WILLIAM S. BURROUGHS - SCHIZOPoP MANIFESTO / INSTALLATION / SHAMANOISE HALLUCINEMA by Henrik Aeshna

featuring William Burroughs, Brion Gysin, Claude Pélieu, Mary Beach, Jean-Jacques Lebel, Charles Plymell, Steve Dalachinsky, Emma Doeve, Anita Volk, Henrik Aeshna

+ Genesis P-Orridge, Patti Smith, Sonic Youth, John Zorn, Anita Berber & Sébastian Droste, and St Thérèse of Lisieux

 

FURTHER INFO CABARET TOXIQUE Burroughs 100 (PARIS & LYON)

 

 

 

 

 

 

AMPHETAMINE COWBOYS & BANSHEES: CABARET TOXIQUE à Paris & à Lyon pour célébrer le centenaire de WILLIAM BURROUGHS (CABARET TOXIQUE celebrating the 100 years of William Burroughs' birth)

 AMPHETAMINE COWBOYS & BANSHEES - CABARET TOXIQUE à Paris & à Lyon pour célébrer le centenaire de WILLIAM BURROUGHS (CABARET TOXIQUE celebrating the 100 years of William Burroughs' birth) - w/ HENRIK AESHNA, ANITA VOLK, SANDRA WILD and more - via Tsunami bOOKS Paris  

 

 

 FRANCAIS / ENGLISH
 

Le CABARET TOXIQUE célèbre le centenaire de la naissance de William Burroughs, auteur subversif de la Beat Generation et l’une des figures les plus influentes des derniers temps.
2 théâtres d’opérations en France (Paris & Lyon), avec Tsunami Gang (La Coquille): Henrik Aeshna, Anita Volk, Sandra Wild et autres

-1ère partie: LYON (à La Menuiserie, 18hs - 22hs - 3 rue Carquillat - 69001)
-2ème partie: PARIS, fin fevrier (lieu & date à confirmer)

PROGRAMMATION :

- pandémonium sonore rituel anthropophage aux multiples instruments & voix - supernovas glossolalies vagissements épidémie dansante apocalypse érotique
° cut-ups & extraits de William S. Burroughs, Brion Gysin, Claude Pélieu, Charles Plymell, Carl Weissner, Hassan-I-Sabbah, Jean-Jacques Lebel, Steve Dalachinsky, Stanislas Rodanski, Antonin Artaud, Gregory Corso, Allen Ginsberg, Lawrence Ferlinghetti, Rimbaud, Lautréamont, Sainkho Namtchylak, Baroness Elsa von Freytag-Loringhoven, Sainte Thérèse de Lisieux, Anita Berber, Kathy Acker, Baba Yaga
+ Chansons Toxiques &
Hallucinéma Shamanoise SchizoPoP Manifesto

LES CONSPIRATEURS:

* HENRIK AESHNA est un vandale visionnaire détesté par les théoriciens Blablaïstes et tous les types de conservateurs -, poète-performeur, provocateur, créateur multidisciplinaire inclassable, éditeur, traducteur multi-linguiste et voyageur-explorateur basé à Montmartre-Paris.
L’ex-modèle de nu devenu anti-modèle/anti-prophète rimbaldien du SchizoPoP Manifesto, Aeshna enclenche aussi un dialogue radical avec les maîtres du désordre et de l’extase des cultures tribales lointaines (surtout après ses expériences avec l’Ayahuasca en Amérique du Sud il y a quelques années), avec le Cinéma Expérimental, le Butô, les femmes écrivains, l’art de rue, les fous, les bohèmes perdues et les avant-gardes underground radicales.
Poète-bombe-enfant sauvage à la syntaxe dionysiaque et désajustée, et armé d’un humour noir qui défie toutes les couronnes et clichés de notre époque, en 2008 il a vendu l’oreille de Van Gogh dans des paquets de viandes hachées dans un kiosque monté devant le musée Van Gogh à Amsterdam.

-pour plus d’info (actualités, art, livres, interventions, Hallucinéma Shamanoise / kaléidoscopes visuels intraveineux) :
° http://www.henrikaeshna.com/
° http://ebsn.eu/members/henrik-aeshna/
° Article "UN VANDALE VISIONNAIRE SUR FOND DE VELVET" :
http://tsunamibooks.jimdo.com/2012/04/25/il-a-tué-la-poésie-et-est-allé-au-cinéma-voir-autant-en-emporte-le-vent-henrik-aeshna-un-vandale-visionnaire-sur-fond-de-velvet-par-elodie-noël/

* ANITA VOLK est un clown déluré explorant les terrains aqueux ingrats dépouillés drolatiques nus et maculant toutes les chaises et fauteuils des longs couloirs d’attente. Elle chante écrit dit respire crève ses mots et ceux des autres. Inspirée par les écrits de Michaux, Bataille, Vian, Bachelard, Nietzsche, Novarina, Deleuze, Dostoievski, les comètes Dada, Henry Miller, Anaïs Nin, Artaud, Joyce Mansour, Kerouac, Hesse et la danse Butô, et les chansons de Fréhel, Nitta Jo, Yvette Guibert, Marie Dubas ((CHANSONS TOXIQUES - 1907-1946)) Léo Férré, Brel, Brassens, Bobby Lapointe, Vian, Gainsbourg, son univers se compose des forces, hargnes, désarrois, beautés, laideurs de ce monde. Elle souhaite développer les langages que sont le chant, la danse, et la poésie dans l’improvisation et la recherche d’une spontanéité située hors de toutes les logiques méprisantes du prosaïsme ambiant.

* SANDRA WILD est une pute du présent et la pute du président. C'est elle Margherita, marguerite, sainte Rita (montrant sa plaie incurable sur le front), la sainte des causes désespérées (fixant quelqu'un) elle même désespérée. Elle s'appelle Mireille Havet, et elle ne mangera pas de votre pain. Appelez-lui Sandra. Sandra Wild. Après sept années d'études en philosophie, Sandra Wild compte ouvrir une boucherie-charcuterie en centre aéré, et donner la possibilité à des chômeurs de moins de dix ans de travailler. Ils apprendront sur place à se désosser les uns des autres.

*************************************************

** ENGLISH ** :

CABARET TOXIQUE celebrating the centenary of William S. Burroughs - 2 theatres of operations-interventions in France (Paris & Lyon), featuring Tsunami Gang (Henrik Aeshna, Anita Volk, Sandra Wild, and more)

1st part: LYON (January 25, 6pm - La Menuiserie, 3 rue Carquillat 69001),
featuring Tsunami Gang (Henrik Aeshna, Anita Volk, Sandra Wild & others)
2nd part: PARIS, late February (place and date to be announced)

ACTIVITIES :

sound pandemonium anthropophagic rite with multiple instruments & voices – supernovas glossolalias newbornscreams dancing plague erotic apocalypse
° cut-ups & excerpts of William S. Burroughs, Brion Gysin, Claude Pélieu, Charles Plymell, Carl Weissner, Hassan-I-Sabbah, Jean-Jacques Lebel, Steve Dalachinsky, Stanislas Rodanski, Antonin Artaud, Gregory Corso, Allen Ginsberg, Lawrence Ferlinghetti, Rimbaud, Lautréamont, Sainkho Namtchylak, Baroness Elsa von Freytag-Loringhoven, Sainte Thérèse de Lisieux, Anita Berber, Kathy Acker, Baba Yaga
+ Chansons Toxiques &
Shamanoise Hallucinema SchizoPoP Manifesto

THE CONSPIRATORS :

* HENRIK AESHNA is a visionary vandal hated by Blablaist theoreticians and all kinds of conservatives -, poet-performer, provocateur, unclassifiable multidisciplinary creator, editor, polyglot translator and voyager-explorer based in Montmartre-Paris.
Former nude model turned Rimbaudian anti-model/anti-prophet of SchizoPoP Manifesto, Aeshna is also engaged in a radical dialogue with the masters of disorder and ecstasy from faraway tribal cultures (especially after his many experiences with Ayahuasca in South America, years ago), with Experimental Cinema, Butoh, women writers, street art, long lost bohemias and radical underground avant-gardes, and whatever interesting, disturbing, taboo-defying, rule-breaking and magma-infused crosses his way (without attaching to any reproductions and clichés).
Poet-bomber-wild-child armed with a sharp dionysian syntax (incendiary pies with splashes of absurdity and humour noir thrown in defying all the crowns and clichés of our post-post-post-modern age), in 2008 he sold Van Gogh’s ear in minced meat packages displayed in a kiosk set up outside the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam.
For further info (news, art, books, interventions, Shamanoise Hallucinema / intravenous visual deliriums):
° http://www.henrikaeshna.com/#!__exhibition-henrik-aeshna
° http://ebsn.eu/members/henrik-aeshna/

* ANITA VOLK is a brazen clown exploring wetlands of ungratefulness, weirdness and nakedness, storming long waiting rooms to smear armchairs ornaments clocks and masks. She sings writes writhes breathes spits out her words and those of others. Inspired by the writings of Michaux, Bataille, Vian, Bachelard, Nietzsche, Novarina, Deleuze, Dostoyevsky, the Dada comets, Henry Miller, Anaïs Nin, Artaud, Joyce Mansour, Kerouac, Hesse and Butoh, the chansons of Fréhel, Nitta Jo, Yvette Guibert, Marie Dubas (CHANSONS TOXIQUES - 1907-1946), Léo Férré, Brel, Brassens, Bobby Lapointe, Vian and Gainsbourg, Anita’s universe is made up of the forces, rages, disarrays, beauties and hideousnesses of this world. Focusing her research on chant, dance and poetry, her aim is both to enter the secret realms of these languages and develop them through improvisation, thus achieving a spontaneity situated outside all disgusting logics and atavisms.

* SANDRA WILD is a whore of the present time, the President’s whore. She’s Margheritta, margheritte, Saint Rita (showing an incurable wound on her face), the saint of desperate and lost causes (staring at someone) she herself desperate. She’s called Mireille Havet, and she won’t ever eat your bread. Call her Sandra. Sandra Wild. Having just finished her 7-year philosophy studies Sandra Wild is now due to open a butcher’s shop-delicatessen in a children’s center so as to give the unemployed aged less than 10 years a chance to work. They will learn on site how to bone one another.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

KILL THE RABBIT

 

 

KILL THE RABBIT (hallucinatory fasting series), by Henrik Aeshna - Paris, July 2013

 

 

THURSTON MOORE IN PARIS + MEDITATION ON LIFE, DEATH, PAIN, YOUTH COUNTERCULTURE & UNDERGROUND

 

 

Clark Colidge & Thurston Moore at Maison de la Poésie, Paris, September 26 2013

photo: Henrik Aeshna

 

 

 

MEDITATION/REFLECTION

or How to survive in the jungle or pull through among snakes, spiders, cannibals, traps & myths (a proto essay, and not to be interpreted as a how-to guide at all, but rather a personal report intended to dialogue with other experiences - a brandnew chaos is looming up not another brand... )

 

(Approaches: Life, Death, Pain, Ayahuasca, Mazes, Youth Culture, Underground, Sid Vicious, Kurt Cobain, Rimbaud, John Lennon, Patti Smith, Alan Lomax, Johnny Rotten, Jim Morrison, Society of Spectacle, Punk: Chaos to Couture, Street Art, Hip Hop - I'm sure some of my critics & points herein will shock some of you, especially the more fanatics, but fuck it, - i'm pretty much more of a nomadic philosopher, in the alchemical/incendiary sense of the term, an ever-evolving fluidic matter, and not a brainless rocknroll puppet)

 

 

(scratched this off after meeting up & sharing w/ Thurston Moore -Sonic Youth, Chelsea Light Moving- in Paris, on the occasion of his reading at Maison de la Poésie, followed by  a noise jam w/ jazz poet Clark Coolidge – Thurston is the sweetest guy in the world, kind of illuminated, cool, ecstatic, strange, and a strikingly good (post-beat) poet. coincidence or not, he was the first guy i stumbled upon just upon my arrival, while trying to cut through the crowd, when i stop before that huge human wall & his back - "Hey, Thurston!", "Hi, welcome!" - and i gave him one of my Gucci shopping bags -found in a Parisian trash bin- all riddled with absurdities, containing some of my SchizoPoP Pop debris, objects, posters & ephemera – Most surreal, we (the Maison's group) got out of this noise jam straight into a typically Parisian bar restaurant on Rue Rambuteau, (where Thurston & Clark were), and there were two guys playing & singing “Besa me Mucho”! – the night was great, but for a few intellectual braggards  (the local poets) & snobs cockroaching around & blabbering about how the best of the best they were (the 2 bearded idiots), with all that blasé formality & sterile blablaism, - hey guys, let go of the white collar & let's get lost - fuck!, - and i also talked a little bit  w/ Clark  (great cat!) about his poems & Jack Kerouac! around 2 am we all got out of the bar & went walking along Rue Rambuteau, Thurston the child-faced giant, resembling the son of Mick Jagger w/ a French model, holding his shabby guitar case with the rest of the staff in tow as the Autumn night breeze whispered through, - and then he had to head back to his hotel & i took one of his crew, a Belgian filmmaker, for a wild, vertiginous let’s-get-lost Parkour Poéthylique, through the streets of Paris, all the way to Gare du l’Est, where we tried to find a nice joint, or then a corner shop, but all we could find was a boring bar for business men facing the station… apparently, he was shocked when i told him i only hang out with girls, for they’re far more sensitive & cooler than guys, that i’m the member of an all-girl gang, and that most men bore the hell outta me!)   

 

 

"i despise all the heroes who brought me here"

(quote off my lacerated journals, Brick Lane, London, - all my life & confusion packed up in a single moment on that street that night)

 

 

 

breaking away means freedom, the death of worn out aspects impeding oneself from stepping forward, elimination of superfluous matter and residues from physical-emotional charges, transformation, redefinition of values, in short, a vital process…

 

Père Lachaise, back in 2009: while swaying among the graveyards along with Catrin, a Swedish friend living in Paris by then, i remember seeing a fallen leaf, then hold it and say: Death is the freedom of a leaf cut off from a tree, now free to drift away and blow in the wind – being carried away, which “paradoxically” implies freedom in total passivity

 

in French we say “lâcher prise”: let things follow their course freely, without any possessive ties or control over others, without restrictions, dissolving all armors and inhibitions, - all that blocks us from affection and from feeling. there are so many angles to dig this, though.

 

so many deaths along the way, inner deaths

 

crisis

chrysalis 

 

we die all the time, as we run & breathe & flash across this dome of illusions, thrills, pain & despair all the way to Timeless White Light, back into shapeless Chaos, being the very ovulation race a cruel holocaust, and life itself a perpetual cycle of tests, falls, apprenticeship, setbacks, losses, challenges

 

 

the earlier we confront Pain and Death, so as to integrate them, the better – or like many ancient religions and philosophies have stated, regardless of their mutual temporal and/or geographical connections or affinities, and ain’t this just intriguing, the fact that such principle is shared by people who have never gotten in touch with one another: DIE BEFORE DYING or DIE BEFORE DEATH

 

ps:  i'm not a religious person, at least not in the strict, dogmatic sense - I exErcise my demons instead of exOrcising them

 

initiation rites

 

hell-going song

 

my own visionary experiences with Ayahuasca in the deep dark ancient forest, my initiation into the mystery of the Maze (labyrinths were always recurring themes in my dreams since my early childhood, till the day i definitely got out to live on my own, interestingly), all that thrashing, all that amniotic immersion & revealing meditation, all that radical turnover, all that crumbling away of former outlooks and attitudes – many flows, many levels - indians & UFOs dancing around my chair – puking the golden Serpent twisting over in the ancestral Oaska Night snaking thru a hell of shattered mirrors broken glasses melting-foetuses egos wars ravage pain hallucinations childhood-flashes waterfalls canyons past-present-future, then metamorphosing into a solitary lily on top of a more sublime understanding

 

ayahuasca insight #1: Strength has nothing to do with Tension

 

ayahuasca insight # 2: we stagger through existence like drunken puppets, dazed & befuddled, in search of false masks & moulds to wrap ourselves in, so forgetting our true essence - always postponing the confrontation

 

ayahuasca insight # 3: when you’re filled up with Light, you can help others, even a battalion, too ill & weak to stand up on their own

 

ayahuasca insight # 4: don’t resist, - or let go of all of your concepts & prejudice & Cartesianism - think outside the Box

 

ayahuasca insight # 5: Nature is sacred - We're infinite

 

sometimes all we need is just a mere 30 minutes of inner dialogue so that we can sort out most of our knots, a good sweeping down, a bath, a moment of concentration face to face with ourselves, - solitude.

 

we, the so-called Westerners, still fear drugs because they provoke the dismantling of our masks and put us into direct contact with the Unknown, which is also part of ourselves; and as some drugs, as well as dreams, disturb our normality & tear down our values, our references, our features, our logic & rationalism, our security, we often fall into paranoia whenever we slide down the rabbit hole or experience the Other Side, be it through transportations, projections, abductions, shocks, traumas, drugs or dreams; that’s the fear of losing our references, of being thrown out of our security zone, which for a child is something related to their motherly presence & comfort.   

 

so in order to replace, or rather to channel human nature’s immanent bent for dreams and visionary experiences, we have invented Entertainment, also machiavelically set up to make up for our lust for strong emotions, and which is now deeply rooted in our culture. and in order to avoid Solitude, mistakenly viewed as something pathologically strange and/or morbid or the symptoms of someone sad (*and even sadness is an important experience, unless it grows into illness), we often take refuge in the crowd, or before the tv, which means the same. subtle brainwash. collective lobotomy. psychic vampires. waves. modern colonialism. enslavement. 

 

all the black flowers of my teenage spring, dandelions blowing above horrors & hells

 

so much time wasted on synthetic drugs & all that useless junk during my adolescence

 

our previous youth generations’ response to chaos was not confrontation, but narcissistic self-immolation and desperate suicide, by identifying themselves with the patterns of the throwaway culture they were born in, even though rebelling against it, which has nothing to do with the way other cultures experience immolation and suicide, in different contexts, nor with guerrilla methods such as parody & appropriation, when one uses the enemy to mock or destroy them. not that i intend to do a moral judgment over the issue, but upon reflecting on the way people copycat, glorify or give themselves to self-destruction, (still) following in the footsteps of icons like Sid Vicious or Kurt Cobain, or surfing the old cliched rocknroll wave, i realize that I have different views and perspectives, and that my values have nothing to do with theirs. it’s all about mentality, i realize. i’m not here to question both their talents, contribution, legacy, nor the importance of their art, much less their personal torments and struggles as human beings, as i’ve got my own, but just to highlight I don’t need that kind of attitude anymore, and to be honest i’ve never needed it, and that our youth is way oversaturated with that and going through other times, experiencing other readings, other values, other ruptures (the same eternal rupture & insatisfaction, of course), other levels of violence: nothing to do with a hippie revival or something like that. if canned love sucks, so does nihilism for it’s own sake. it’s a vicious circle, a cul-de-sac, a dead end, and also an endless karma powered by a whole bloodsucking industry, all that sickly Pop Art thing à la Andy Warhol & Marilyn Monroe. Cancer.

 

if Sid Vicious fucked himself up to death, that was his karma, not mine. if Kurt Cobain allowed himself to get sucked down into MTV’s quicksand wheel, trapped like some sort of Helena boxed in a theatre of vampires, that was also his karma, not mine (Yet let's be fair: whereas Nevermind meant a turning point in pop culture, its contrapuntal follow-up, In Utero, was the ultimate rock/pop testament & vomit, the Dream-is-Over anthem of a period in the history of music, and still concerning rock-pop music timeline, it was definitely the most powerful metaphor for an artist's conflict with the machine in the 90s, and quite possibly of all time) - but personally, i haven’t gone through life all these years, dialoguing with other sources, to end up the way the kids of my generation have done, as if contemplating a fantasy, - just another consumer’s fantasy, that’s what it is; and the fact that most of Nirvana fans, as far as I can recall, have internalized Kurt's depression without questioning the violent mechanisms of exploitation behind our industrial mask (& his struggles w/ the Machine), ending up more like infected zombies living a self that's not their own, or incorporating a crisis that's not their own, or more specifically & far worse, without knowing how to deal with it, and evolve through it - all these are a sign that something's gone wrong along the way, kinda regression, a step backwards, a lost generation atrophied & left alone, smashed & killed by the System, the real Assassins. but whatever, things must go on & evolve.

 

as for me, I rather think of other paths, of expanding roads and not limited cages & moulds built up by systems & industries, and as I said above, I’ve got different values, that’s all, though I blew 6 of my 7 lives still in my teens, ho, but if i’m willing to abandon my life to excesses, as i have done all along, i wanna do it not for some rotten industry’s sake or whatever, - but i digress, anyway…

 

youth counterculture, as well as Underground or Alternative Culture in general, is something to be, and they are still living in the vital principles and dynamics lying at their very core; just pop back to the source, where it all began, that is: sharing, Do It Yourself, freedom in creation, insubmission and confrontation, without ever kneeling down to feed the Society of Spectacle’s demands. Think about Street Art & Hip Hop before the commercial hype & bling. Think about the latest Punk joke in NYC, Chaos to Couture! We need to slit the fabric/couture and pull things back to Chaos again. or so, if you’re willing to get into the main arena, be ready to explode it, to alter its orbit, otherwise, you will be just another solitary court jester in the spotlight, a caricature, a simulacrum, soon to be dismissed like a tasteless chewing gum, a hamburger, another throwaway god. - don't ever jump off the deep end over the Siren-System, aka Medusa. 

 

Rimbaud pushed off to Africa because there wasn’t enough fertile ground in Europe for such an explosive feral cat like him to stand on. still too conventional for him. and the intellectual snobs & hypocrites of that time were rather concerned about sabotaging his incendiary clairvoyance than give way to the visionary blaze it revealed. and so they did, but in vain. they tried to hush the Bastard Boy, to ignore his freshness-drenched message, to root out his shine. a reject, a misfit, unwanted. his spirit, or his wild spirituality, belonged to other spheres. Sid Vicious died just because he was a stupid cunt, a moron (even though his Rabelaisian anti-character, with all its biting hilariousness, is implicitly claimed to personify the spirit of pure anarchy), and I would have puked the same critic onto myself if I had ended that way, so fuck it, and, in this case, all my respect goes to John Lydon and his commercial butter-greased middle finger up hypocrisy’s ass. As for poor Kurt Cobain, were it not for his muddled mindset, and mostly for drugs, he could quite have thrown it all up and headed out not to some tourist trap in Florence (part of the same society of spectacle), as late Jim Carroll, great Jim, once suggested, though I understand his intentions, but just betray them all & blow his Nevermind check on a ticket to Mississippi or Louisiana, where Alan Lomax, another important figure who still deserves more attention from this retarded generation still attached to MTV, discovered the true source and soul of American music, that fascinatingly beautiful, fertile mud where the blues began, or then on a fantastic trip to South America, Siberia, to the wildernesses of Mongolia, wherever, coz after all, the possibilities are limitless when we let imagination flow wild, unless you love your pop straightjacket just as an idiotic soldier boy loves his uniform, a fanatic his symbols, or a Wall Street banker his agenda – unless you believe in roles and is chronically attached to the world of appearances, unless you’re afraid of meeting head-on & standing up to your own ghosts & change, just like snakes do. however, i just can’t blame any of them, or say that life is easy, all that (i know sometimes we get tired & sick of it all, and feel like jumping ship); yet as i said before, it’s about mentality, and a little bit of chance & a little bit of external help sometimes when one’s neck-deep in shit, but, at first, it’s still something related not exclusively to age, but to (self-) ignorance, and how deep you have allowed yourself to drown in your own knots & self-neglicence; and at some point, be sure, you'll be such lost, weak, dependent & down in a hole that not even an angel-winged crane will be able to haul you up from the bottom, from the labyrinth.  

 

(DAWN hearing the crows, supersonics & echoes of "Requiem for a Dead Princess Trapped in the Wreckage of a Mercedes Benz" - a cut-up poem of mine published by Lazy Gramophone, London, 2010) 

 

according to their own declarations, icons such as John Lennon and Patti Smith broke their mirrors after a decisive emotional crash at one point or another in their lives, and reflected upon both their roles & existences, so operating an extremely necessary turnover, which made their respective journeys yet more powerful & solid, and above all, more honest. - not to mention Iggy Pop, David Bowie -i've just seen his top 100 must read books-, Lou Reed, Jim Morrison (were it not for his untimely death), and so many others, each in a particular way & also with particular results. - ah, and do you think the non-famous don't ever suffer?! everyone has their own challenges, but all in all, getting back to creators, - it’s all about, it seems, recovering Life’s creative magnetism & vital magma there where it betrayed us. or dredge it up back from where it all began, and start all over, differently.

 

our mission should be: decentralize culture from our decadent media corporations, especially the US big industries, and incite people & friends to explore other scenes, other cultures, bunkers, recesses, - other expressions, much richer than the Industry canned debris we are "forced" to thrust down our throats. otherwise, if all must be reduced to what the Rolling Stone, Time or MTV tell us to listen to, that's because i am mad & talking bullshit. You have the Internet now, so learn how to use it. Be global (not globalized), act local. Explore. Wanna know? Pussy Riot rocks. And Rock is kicking & living not where it is supposed to exist, totally stripped of revolt as it is today and locked in its own clichés, but elsewhere, beyond the billboards & clichés: for example, in some poetry scenes, in train-hopping, tramping & hobohemian lifestyles, in Dada-Surrealism-Situationism, in Art Brut (or Outsider Art), in the Beat Generation writings, in squats, in TAZ, in Antonin Artaud, or paradoxically in Manouche Music, African Psych-Funk, Pygmee Music, Shamanism, old Carnivals, anyway, the Timeless Spirit of Freedom is scattered about, living in & through other languages, fresh & unlabeled, clandestine, dangerous - or then in Mali, where every year they organize a nice festival right in the middle of the desert. Tuareg Blues. Check out groups like Tinariwen & Tamikrest  & you'll know what i'm talking about. Yes, this is a provocation.    

 

Kill yr idols & Let's invent a new chaos

 

Forget my fucking "tips" & just Reach into yrself & discover yr own music

Go out & explore the streets, the roads, Life  

 

- henrik aeshna, member of an all-girl gang & pickpo(ck)et

 

 

Clark Coolige & Thurston Moore, Maison de la Poésie, Paris, September 26, 2013

photo: Henrik Aeshna

 

 

MÉNAGE À TROIS & TRIPLE SUICIDE IN PARIS ART CENTER - featuring GERARD DEPARDIEU, DAMIEN HIRST, TRACEY EMIN, AMÉLIE NOTHOMB & MICHEL HOUELLEBECQ

Three Rooms Press and Mona Bismarck American Center for Art and Culture present

 

¡DADA! à la CARTE PARIS!

 

An Evening of Disruptive and Provocative Poetry, Performance and Film

 

Mona Bismarck American Center for Art and Culture

34, Avenue de New York, Paris, France

 

Tuesday, 10 September, from 1900h to 2100h

 

http://monabismarck.org

 

° SCHIZOPoP KALEIDOSCOPIUM / MEDUSA TV - Exceptionally for this unprecedented event celebrating the French-American friendship, I will have a ménage à trois with my two lovers (one is my sister, the other is a 15-year-old stripper) over a surreal background maelstrom-mixtape & video featuring the Star-Spangled Banner & La Marseillaise, artillery sounds, military marches, bombs, riots, jungle sounds, birds, frogs, wolves, sirens, newborn babies, buffalos, hyenas, elephants, copulating cats, cicadas, humpback whales, roses, storms, thunderbolts, tribal drums & shamanic chants, cornucopias, heartbeats, waterfalls, machines, clocks, cuckoos, glossolalias, tourette's, kindergarten patios, Pop Goes the Weasel, railroads soundboards, liturgical hymns, exorcisms, factories, football matches, VMAs, Grammies, Oscars, Nobel Prizes, commercials, films, cartoons, flotsam & jetsam of urban noises & conversations, laughters tears moanings & groanings of all kinds, and many more.

 

Highlight: internationally famous actor GERARD DEPARDIEU will be present grunting & whirling across the stage like Julie Andrews in The Sound of Music, as goldfishes DAMIEN HIRST, TRACEY EMIN, AMÉLIE NOTHOMBMICHEL HOUELLEBECQ will be displayed in a formaldehyde tank.

 

Following the threesome epiphany & petite mort, we will commit ShinjÅ« à trois (triple love suicide) by ingesting 10 litres of bleach (eau de javel) & guzzling a pig slop composed of newspapers chips fries foie gras sim cards broken glasses nails pills Oscars etc. - that is, if we don't die of love & caress overdose during the sex act!

This unforgettable WARGASMIC event will surely make the Statue of Liberty & Baby Jesus dissolve into tears.

 

MEDUSA TV - a tribute to the emptiness & boredom of our generation turned to stone by countless Medusa brands. - God Save the Clean!

 

 OFFICIAL EVENT PAGE

 

 

¡DADA! à la CARTE PARIS!

 

 

BLOODY YR HYMEN - JAZZ, ART & THE PROFOUND MEANING OF BETRAYAL & ECSTASY

Big Jay McNeely at the Olympic Auditorium in Los Angeles in 1951, by Bob Willoughby

 

 

that saxophone simply blew up a collective hymen and made those (white) kids discover Blood in all its primeval grace and splendor - all those distorted grimaces are the very expression of ecstasy, and they all look like they're splashing in gold (or blood) for the first time in their lives!! that's what TRUE art is about: it's not about manipulation, but liberation. it's not about petrifying limitation of the senses at the service of spiteful domination & power structures or whatever, but simply & elementarily letting go, flowing, limitlessly & unbridledly, further & further away into unbounded realms of Non-Selfness, ever-metamorphosing, dissolving forms & features in order to spark off other meanings auroras incandescences, unpredictable alchemies, an extreme tightrope act of Amour Fou based on total delivery. finally, it's not about any specific formula, cliché or grotesque violence for its own sake, but REVELATION!

 

Henrik Aeshna

 

* the BLOODY YR HYMEN of the post title refers to a graffiti of mine, one of my first vandalism acts, carried out still in my teens

 

 

 

Big Jay McNeely at the Olympic Auditorium in Los Angeles in 1951, by Bob Willoughby

 

 

 

Big Jay McNeely at the Olympic Auditorium in Los Angeles in 1951, by Bob Willoughby

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CABARET TOXIQUE: a coven of mad poets somewhere in Paris

PaRIs UNDErGRoUNd secret session password #WHIRLINGBUTTERFLY

CABARET TOXIQUE OFFICIAL  -  BEWARE PICKPO(ck)ETS & LOOSE WOMEN

 

 

 

LYDIA LUNCH'S PERFUME SMELLS LIKE NAPALM

SCHIZOPoP MANIFESTO says

LYDIA LUNCH'S PERFUME SMELLS LIKE NAPALM

by Henrik Aeshna, Paris, 2012

In honor of Lydia, just a couple of days after being (literally) flooded w/ her perfume at her Paris gig w/ Putan Club, napalmed w/ her wolfish presence & caresses -      W/ Anita Berber & Mireille Havet she shares the same spiritual struggle w/ thorns & knives (- my trip), which are their material element, or a physical manifestation of their chaos, and linked to their individual alchemical proccess, though Lydia's pulling through, more incisive & intelligent than ever - She's got a secret knife in her soul. And in the labyrinth of her dreams she came across the Killer, and Baba Yaga as well!

This poster was showcased (as part of an installation) at Galerie du Theatroom, Pigalle, on the occasion of Aeshna's exhibition SCHIZOPoP MANIFESTO - TANTRIK ALCHEMY OF DAILY LIFE - Paris, 2012

 

 

 

 

 

PUSSY RIOT: WOMAN OF THE YEAR

click to enlarge

 

The Absinthe Diaries was my Facebook account (now deleted by the FB inquisition) back then....

 

STOLEN WHISKEY SERENADE (CABARET TOXIQUE + PARKOUR POETILIQUE IN MONTMARTRE)

let's get lost...

 

 

photo: Henrik Aeshna spiking the bowl w/ stolen Jack Daniel's & vomitting fire rainbows & comets in Montmartre,

by Anita Volk, Paris, Summer 2013

 

Beautiful as the chance encounter of a sewing machine and an umbrella on a dissection table

"Beau comme la rencontre fortuite sur une table de dissection d'une machine à coudre et d'un parapluie."

- Lautréamont, Les Chants de Maldoror

 

 

Photo by Henrik Aeshna, Paris, Summer 2013

 

GIVE ART AN ORGASM!

...Montmartre, Paris, April 2013

 

Explanation: The aftermath of a cosmic cataclysm, supernova remnant Cassiopeia A (Cas A) is a comfortable 11,000 light-years away. Light from the Cas A supernova, the death explosion of a massive star, first reached Earth just 330 years ago. Still expanding, the explosion's debris cloud spans about 15 light-years near the center of this composite image.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CLITORIS

CLITORIS - SchizoPoP Manifesto - Série Alchimie Tantrique de la Vie Quotidienne / Tantrik Alchemy of Daily Life series – 2012 - Acrylique sur toile / acrylic on canvas - 61 x 50 cm

Exhibition Henrik Aeshna SchizoPoP Manifesto, Pigalle, Paris, November/December 2012

 

 

CHÂTEAU BACCHUS - RUE DES BOULETS, 20ème ARRONDISSEMENT

Château Bacchus, by Henrik Aeshna (at Laura's, 20ème Arrondissement), Paris, April 2013

 

 

 

CADAVRE EXQUISZOPHRENE à ANNECY

 

 

Anita Berber Salamandre Esso - cadavre exquiszophrène, par Henrik Aeshna, Anita Volk & Sandra Wild

Annecy, Alpes, avril 2013

 

 

 

Happy Birthday Charles Baudelaire 192 ans, dessin par Henrik Aeshna

Annecy, Alpes, avril 2013

 

 

 

300 fetus dans une cave à vin, par Henrik Aeshna

Annecy, Alpes, avril 2013

 

 

 

Il y a une rose atroce...., encore un autre poème automatique par Henrik Aeshna

Annecy, Alpes, avril 2013

 

 

 

Ayahuasca reminiscences while listening to Pink Floyd 'Relics' (vynil) - watercolor (aquarelle) by Henrik Aeshna

Annecy, Alpes, avril 2013

 

 

 

Valse Electrique (les Clowns Terroristes) - cadavre exquiszophrène par Sandra Wild, Anita Volk & Henrik Aeshna

 

CADAVRE EXQUISZOPHRENE

 

 

 

cadavre exquiszophrène par Anita Volk and Henrik Aeshna, avril 2013

 

EYE'LANDS & DREAMS: Nomadic 'Cabaret Toxique' (Christiania, Copenhagen, 2012)

"I drink her eye’lands & dreams

thru a milkshake straw"

(from København Blues, Henrik Aeshna)

 

Photo: Henrik Aeshna, Freetown Christiania, Copenhagen, September 2012)

 

Read full report of Christiania on Tsunami bOOKS 

DEMENTIA PRAECOX ANTI-POP : Die Tödliche Doris (80's)

One of the rawest & most original groups of all time; - and, what's more, it still remains ahead of its time.

 

 

 

Article from Wikipedia...

 

Die Tödliche Doris (Deadly Doris) was a German performance art and music group based in Berlin from 1980 to 1987. It was founded by band members Wolfgang Müller (1957–) and Nikolaus Utermöhlen (1958–1996) and later joined by Chris Dreier, Dagmar Dimitroff, Tabea Blumenschein and Käthe Kruse (1958–).

 

Die Tödliche Doris was part of the Geniale Dilettanten (Ingenious Dilettantes) movement, a merger of the New Wave and post-punk scene, which combined influences like Frieder Butzmann, Einstürzende Neubauten and Malaria!. The head of the band, author, musician and artist Wolfgang Müller, wrote the book Geniale Dilettanten (Ingenious Dilettantes) for the MERVE publishing house. This was known for the first German publisher of French postmodern philosophers.

 

Rather than constructing a consistent identity, typically essential for pop music groups, Die Tödliche Doris challenged the notion of "convention" or "stereotype". Instead, they tried with each music piece and production not to follow a "style" or "image". Inspired by the post-structuralism of Baudrillard, Foucault, Guattarri and Lyotard Die Tödliche Doris want to deConstruct ![sic] a sculpture, made by sounds. This musical, amusical or non-musical invisible sculpture should become the body of Doris itself.

 

The first 12-inch LP of Die Tödliche Doris has no title, but is known as 7 deadly accidents in household. Afterwards they published the LP "Die Tödliche Doris" (1981). On this LP are 13 tracks, which seems to have nothing in common: a "funny" song followed by a "serious" song, followed by a "banal" one, a "cruel" one, a "soft" one, a "noisy" one etc. Nothing seems to fit together, all styles or themes are strictly separated from one another. So Doris consists - like human beings - of a lot of different, contradictory characteristics, which exist in one body, but not co-instantaneously.

 

Because it is not possible, to re-enact this concept of a further LP, now the band begin to deConstruct the medium "vinyl-record" itself. With their following project, Die Tödliche Doris and her head, the philosopher and artist Wolfgang Müller broke the convention of a normal record-producing. Called, Chöre & Soli (1983–84), it looked like a five-vinyl-LP box, but contained eight small doll-records, a doll-record player with battery and a booklet. The songs lasted just 20 seconds and were of poor quality. This box is one of the most searched-for items among record collectors today. The plan of the band was that no reviewers would compare the music from their first LP with the second: "We want to become the most independent band of all independent bands–even independent from a usual record player," Wolfgang Müller said in an interview: "But also independent from music-reviews and critics, which want to put you in her sound- and identity-system."

 

The band's fourth album, Unser Debüt (Our Debut), was perceived as a new wave pop album. It was published in 1984. This record played on popularity-seeking among other bands as a central musical theme. The music tried to sound "opportunistic", "ambitious", and overtly tried to "please" the audience. Doris-head Wolfgang Müller said, that this idea was born as a result of the coming-up atmosphere of becoming commercially successful, which has got since 1983 a noticeable influence of the West-Berlin Ingenious Dilettantes Scene around Einstürzende Neubauten, Malaria and others. Unser Debut received many bad reviews, though some writers in Belgium and Canada identified the music of the LP as "a parody about commercialism and conformance".

 

One year later, the LP Sechs (Six) was produced, the musical opposite of Unser Debüt. It was very puritan, abstract music, artistic and hermetic. Many reviewers thought that the band had come back to their "experimental" roots again.

 

In actuality, both records were recorded at the same time in the same studio at Atatak, Düsseldorf. Their tracks have exactly the same lengths on each face a and b. Unser Debut and sechs are full of relations between texts, sounds and contents. Also the covers relate and communicate in between colours, lyrics and images. But in public, nobody knows or find out, that both records a "fitting together". One year after Sechs was published, Die Tödliche Doris published a poster, where they announced having produced a completely independent, non-commercial record, "the first invisible record of the world", created in the head of listeners by playing the album Unser Debüt simultaneously with Sechs. Thus, Die Tödliche Doris created an additional, invisible 5th album in between Unser Debüt (their fourth) and Sechs (the sixth).

 

 

 

L'iconoclaste Jean-Jacques Lebel sur France Culture (18/02 au 22/02)

A mon avis, le plus grand artiste-provocateur vivant, e à qui je dédierai un article bientôt, suivi d'un hommage poétique....

podcast complet sur Tsunami bOOKS

 

"La Poésie c'est du peyotl" (JJ Lebel)
Ami proche de Breton, Péret, Duchamp, Deleuze, Guattari, Michaux, des poètes Beat, précurseur du Happening et un des principaux déclencheurs de l'insurrection de Mai 68, JJ Lebel, tigre visionnaire aux ailes de tempête et pirate incendiaire imbibé de Billie Holiday Thelonius Monk & Antonin Artaud, dénoue le Verbe et les bas-fonds de notre époque et se révèle au long de 4 heures comme un poison dans la Machine. (Henrik Aeshna, for Tsunami bOOKS)

L'iconoclaste Jean-Jacques Lebel

 

Jean-Jacques Lebel est un artiste, historien d'art, commissaire d'exposition. Depuis l'enfance, il se nourrit de la pensée des plus grands qu'il a connus lors de l'exil de ses parents aux Etats-Unis comme, entre autres, Marcel Duchamp et André Breton. A l'adolescence il devient surréaliste puis, à la suite de son exclusion, rejoint les mouvements libertaires et anarchistes. Engagé contre la guerre d'Algérie, il organisera plusieurs manifestations artistiques et aura l'idée du grand tableau antifasciste. Dès le début des années soixante, il rejoint le mouvement beat et devient l'ami de Burroughs, Brion Gysin et inventera alors dans toute l'Europe des happenings. Artiste, il est aussi poète et collecteur et, malgré ses 77 ans, conserve son ardeur et son énergie pour protester, perturber la société de consommation. Portrait d'un homme en colère.

 

Présentation: Laure Adler

 

   

Jean-Jacques Lebel & Henrik Aeshna lors de l'ouverture de l'exposition de John Giorno (Almine Rech Galery, 19 rue de Santonge, 75003, Paris), 13.09.2012. Photo: Anita volk

 

 

 

HENRIK AESHNA & SCHIZOPoP MANIFESTO DANS LA REVUE THEATROOM (2013)

 « Il faut tuer l’homme-simulacre & retourner à nos origines volcaniques »

- Henrik Aeshna

 

HENRIK AESHNA, UN VANDALE VISIONNAIRE SUR FOND DE VELVET

Article écrit par Elodie Noel à paraître dans la revue Theatroom Magazine, Paris, à l'occasion de l'exposition
HENRIK AESHNA & SCHIZOPoP MANIFESTO ( Tantrik Alchemy of Daily Life ) au Festival International Theatroom - Les Entrailles des Villes, Pigalle, Paris, novembre/décembre 2012
 

site official de l'expo + flyer-animation HERE

 

L’ART EST MALADE ET VIT À PARIS, dans le magma d’un ancien volcan endormi portant le visage d’un nouveau-né surgit de nulle part et dont le vagissement ‘GIVE ART/LIFE AN ORGASM’ est le thème subliminal de sa participation au Festival ‘Les Entrailles des Villes’. - Il s’appelle Henrik Aeshna. Il est l’auteur de l’infâme Marseille Blues - cadavre exquiszophrène avec 50 personnages et une recette de gratin de courgettes, qui sera joué à plusieurs reprises lors du festival, mis en scène par Yves-Alexandre Tripkovic, et l’artiste visuel créateur du SCHIZOPoP MANIFESTO, qui fait partie de l’exposition collective.

 

(Présentation écrite par Elodie Noël après de nombreuses conversations avec Aeshna autour d’une bouteille d’absinthe en écoutant tous les types de sons et rituels, de Velvet Underground à vaudou, et après plusieurs ‘Parkours Poétiliques’ à travers les rues de Paris, cette ville qu’il évoque souvent comme ‘Paris Manège Halluciné en Feu’, une espèce de "ville-pute, mixte de playground et purgatoire")

 

Obs : Les phrases suivies d’une étoile (*) sont des fragments extraits des poèmes et interventions d’Henrik Aeshna.

 

Elodie Noël, auteur et co-conspiratrice de Tsunami bOOKS, comédienne, poète et chanteuse de cabaret inspirée par Desnos, Artaud, Prévert-Kosma, Francis Blanche, Anaïs Nin, Fréhel, Léo Ferré, Brel, Brassens, Bobby Lapointe, Vian, Gainsbourg, Kerouac, Michaux, Bataille, etc., et qui a récemment joué Marseille Blues – cadavre exquiszophrène avec 50 personnages à Paris avec Henrik Aeshna et le Diable !

 

 CLITORIS - SchizoPoP Manifesto - Série Alchimie Tantrique de la Vie Quotidienne / Tantrik Alchemy of Daily Life series – 2012 - Acrylique sur toile / acrylic on canvas - 61 x 50 cm


 

« Une nouvelle poésie pyromane, éclatante et cannibale »

 

« Je suis venu ici pour déverser ma farce

& transformer la Disneyland de Sartre

en une arène risquée »

 

- Henrik Aeshna, « Naked Beans »

 

 

 

La voix d’Henrik Aeshna est celle d’un poète nomade, agent provocateur explorateur de nouvelles zones, tisseur de kaléidoscopes & délires visuels intraveineux. Créateur multidisciplinaire inclassable, traducteur multi-linguiste, conspirateur du réseau de poésie-art outlaw basé à Paris ‘Tsunami bOOKS’ et organisateur du Cabaret Toxique, il injecte en Europe la pulsation des poètes expérimentaux américains des scènes Noise/Free Jazz et enclenche un dialogue radical avec les maîtres du désordre et de l’extase des cultures tribales lointaines, avec le Cinéma Expérimental, le Butô, l’érotisme farouche et le clitoris incandescent des femmes écrivains, l’art de rue, les bohèmes perdues et les avant-gardes underground radicales, tout en mêlant/carnavandalisant/cannibalisant les papillons-fragments flottants des médias de masse avec les morceaux de ses propres journaux (« les débris de nos vies »*) et autres objets-trouvés, objets-volés, - exercice d’assemblage qu’il pratique depuis son adolescence (à cette époque il fût interné dans une maison de redressement, diagnostiqué comme schizophrène). De ce mélange cannibale naît une poésie brute directe et originale qu’il nomme SHAMANOISE, et aussi SCHIZOPoP MANIFESTO, attitude qui a été malicieusement décrite par un commissaire d’exposition comme « le petit-fils-hybride-et-rebel-de-Dada-Surréalisme-et-le-fils-de-Fluxus-et-du-Punk-Situationnisme qui a décidé de défier ses parents et de s’échapper de la maison (parce qu’ils étaient devenus des intellectuels totalitaires prévisibles, insupportablement ennuyeux, blasés-bureaucratiques), tout ça sans oublier de mettre le feu à la maison. » 

  

SCHIZOPoP MANIFESTO - Schizopoplets - Technique mixte / mixed media - Kaléidoscope aléatoire composé de fragments de la vie du créateur depuis son adolescence jusqu’aujourd’hui, assemblés par un ouragan : mash-ups, posters, photographies, dessins, collage

SCHIZOPoP MANIFESTO - Schizopoplets - Technique mixte / mixed media - Kaléidoscope aléatoire composé de fragments de la vie du créateur depuis son adolescence jusqu’aujourd’hui, assemblés par un ouragan : mash-ups, posters, photographies, dessins, collage

 

 

 

PARKOUR POÉTILIQUE

(tango toxique sur les toits des voitures ou ‘alchimie tantrique de la vie quotidienne’)

    

« Moi, je jouis, je joue avec les apparences, et toi, tu crois en elles… Je déchire le voile & ravage/déconstruis ce théâtre de correspondances magnifiquement banal que tu appelles Vie, et je dépasse ses frontières sans aucun espoir de retour, pour aller me perdre dans la Zone de Danger, dans le cœur, dans la pulsation de cette bête étonnante & sauvage que tu appelles langage. J’ai la Clé passe-partout des Champs.

FEEL, FEEL EVERYTHING. » 

- Henrik Aeshna, in « Scandale aux Trois Baudets »

 

 

Performeur bachique et voyageur-pirate-explorateur d’intensités, Aeshna réactualise majestueusement, avec deux musiciennes-performeuses cinglantes (Anita Volk et Sandra Wild), le délire abracadabrant d’auteurs foudroyés oubliés tels que Claude le Petit, Ernest Gengenbach et Mireille Havet, entre autres. Le trio, qui apparaît sous le nom de ‘La Coquille’ (allusion à la célèbre bande de brigands malfaiteurs du 15ème siècle !), prend d’assaut les endroits les plus imprévisibles, comme les laveries, les bars, les vernissages, les églises, les toits des voitures, n’importe. L’idée de la Coquille a premièrement éclaté dans un de ses anciens manifestes, signalant qu’on n’a pas besoin d’un horaire ni d’un lieu précis pour que la vie atteigne son point d’apothéose : « Monter un groupe de rock ? - ridicule ! Beaucoup plus cool et risqué un GANG D’AMANTS INSPIRÉS qui juste vagabondent vivant à fond & fracassant la scène… absolument imprévisible! »* Tout cela prend germe dans ce qu’il appelle Parkour Poétilique , une sorte « d’exploration poétique-sensorielle radicale contraire au Tourisme préétabli & associée souvent (mais pas nécessairement) à l’alcool, le vin, l’absinthe, aux toxiques, bref, un guide pour se perdre, vagabonder & zigzaguer dans la pulsation de la ville à n’importe quelle heure, farfouiller dans toutes les allées & endroits à la recherche de perles & trésors amalgames situations-insolites ivresses danses éclats extases & tous les types d’incestes. Le monde comme une Mappa mundi sans frontières transformée en une cartographie du désir, en un web (entrelacement) de sensations, perceptions, transformations, détournements, rencontres imprévisibles, etc. » * - un « Hallucinéma Cleptomane » comme une alchimie tantrique de la vie quotidienne. Perception et Sensibilité. Explosion des sens. ‘Extase orgastique’ contre ‘Stase névrotique’. Toucher le Point G (langage peau pores sang clitoris etc.). « Il faut tuer l’homme-simulacre & retourner à nos origines volcaniques »*.

 

Une vision de la poésie comme une aiguille, un couteau aigu déchirant le tissu, l’hymen, les voiles et rideaux de la Réalité afin de nous jeter dans la convulsion bouillonnante de la Zone de Danger au-delà de toutes les normes ; dans le « vin des rues » de Robert Giraud et Jean-Paul Clébert - la Clé passe-partout des Champs, la « clé Tjurunga capable de reconnecter son sang aussi bien que son être le plus profond à un domaine d’expériences plus vaste et dangereusement exubérant. - Rencontrons le rythme des tambours, les grammaires les plus puissantes qui existent ; un tambour qui est le corps la peau le cœur, la Langue Secrète – Explosons-les. FEEL, FEEL EVERYTHING ».*

 

 

ORGIE - objet trouvé / objet volé - Henrik Aeshna, 2012

 

 
BUY MY PAIN - SchizoPoP Manifesto – 2012 - Acrylique sur toile / acrylic on canvas - 61 x 50 cm

BUY MY PAIN - SchizoPoP Manifesto – 2012 - Acrylique sur toile / acrylic on canvas - 61 x 50 cm

 

 

UNE PHILOSOPHIE DÉCHIRÉE EN MIETTES

 

« Je viens de la même boue toxique & « infâme », de la même éclampsie cataclysmique qui a enfanté de belles aberrations comme Dionysos, Rebis, Abu Nuwas, Li Po, Basho, Villon, Claude Le Petit, Sade, Nietzsche, Nerval, Arthur RimBlake, Baudelaire, Lautréamont, de Quincey, Van Gogh, Jarry, Artaud, Tzara, Henry Miller, Adolf Wölfli, Mireille Havet, Arthur Cravan, Anita Berber, Joyce Mansour, Jean Genet, Aimé Césaire, Whitman-London-Kerouac-Cassady-Ginsberg-Burroughs-Corso-Kaufman-Ferlinghetti-Micheline-Berman-Parker-Coltrane-Coleman-Mezz’Mezzroll-David Amram, Alan Lomax, Mississippi Fred McDowell, Alexander Trocchi, Jean-Jacques Lebel, Pollock, Kazuo Ohno, Frida Kahlo, Alejandra Pizarnik, Patti Smith, Francesca Woodman, Jane Evelyn Atwood, Kathy Acker, Lydia Lunch, Bukowski, Buñuel, Oreste Fernando Nannetti, Franco Bellucci, Jards Macalé, Nana Vasconcelos, Al Berto, Majid Bekkas, Sainkho, les Goliards, les Coquillarts, les Heyokhas & Kokopellis… - Et je viens de la même boue enceinte débordante de grâce fièvre rêve sang étoiles qui a enfanté les Guarani-Kaiowás, Kaiapos, Yanomamis, Tarahumaras, Papunyas, Christianites, Užupis, Yorubas, Touaregs & Teshumaras, Joujoukas, chamanes, sorcières, illuminés, anonymes, crucifiés, schizophrènes, banditi dell’arte, « dégénérés », hobos, outsiders & maudits de tous les temps, sans parler de mon propre parcours & de ma vocation furieuse pour la perdition. »   

- Henrik Aeshna, in « Scandale aux Trois Baudets «

 

La pensée d’Henrik Aeshna est celle d’un être visionnaire engagé dans la quête d’un ‘corps sans organes’ insoumis et qui perpétuellement délire. Un enfant lucide révolté cruel qui jette des pierres en flammes sur les murs, invectivant sans réserve ni compromis la lie stagnante du grand manège puant. Une provocation fière et arrogante, pure et intègre, porteuse d’une rage de vie-tourbillon, une explosion directe et sans détours plongeant sans peur dans le sang les sanglots les feux sauvages les pluies les épidémies. Il ne s'agit pas d'un autre poète, d’un autre artiste ou d'une autre chanson, mais plutôt d'une philosophie déchirée en miettes exhalant/exaltant "une furieuse vocation pour la perdition".*

 

Henrik Aeshna connaît et maitrise une force puissante très semblable à celle du clown-bouffon sacré des peuples/tribus/communautés encore vibrants et qui travaillent à déployer les plis/crispations/définitions/membres intérieurs dans un lâcher-prise total du soi étendu dans l’extérieur-univers-mutant en mouvement perpétuel ; - ce clown sacré transgresseur des codes établis, créateur de nouvelles lois absurdes et universelles, sage qui doute de son équilibre en même temps qu’il est sûr de sa chute, grimace entièrement tendue qui déchire les toiles de la censure et contamine l’esprit conscient/fertile, laisse danser et crier hors des limites ses rêves les plus fous, les plus beaux et les plus laids, dans un carnaval où la force de vie est mise à l’épreuve (rythme voix tambour danse incarnation transe-toxique-et-possédée barrissements …), où l’homme devient son désir/source/flux. Car il a volé au-dessus de sa cage et engagé une lutte épuisante avec le bourreau quotidien tué. Il s’est délivré de sa chair morte et renaît intense dans une connexion/un contact/un orgasme avec le monde :

 

« Give ART/LIFE an Orgasm ! ».*

 

Henrik Aeshna appelle les VRAIS et SERIEUX troubles fêtes, dérangés, kidnappeurs du réel, dépouillés, inventeurs, exilés, excités, assoiffés, sorciers, malades, schizophrènes en provenance du CHAOS à sortir dans la rue pour ‘EN FINIR AVEC LE JUGEMENT DE DIEU’, EN FINIR AVEC l’homme-esclave devenu lécheur de culs, voyeur-consommateur d’objets simulacres, l’homme-boutique occidental consommé acheté vendu, l’homme-institution donneur de leçons formatant le désir des élèves devenus soldats/carrière ennuyeux que la culture et la politique s’empressent de distraire dans une lobotomie de spectacles-produits, de soirées thématiques, de voyages-croisières, de revues, d’expositions/musées/galeries, tout cela dans une tenue correcte exigée sur un corps/une pensée sainte et modérée. Oh gloire ! Des visages frais comme des murs bétonnés, des blablablas stériles provenant de discours stérilisés. Comment ne pas se rappeler de son Manifeste Blablaiste ironisé devant les portes des salles de facs et autres CERCLES intellectuels/politiques ou de son infâme intervention au musée du Louvre où il parade avec un sac d’achat sur lequel est écrit ‘BUY MY PAIN’, ou encore, quand il vendait l’oreille de Van Gogh dans des paquets de viandes hachées dans un kiosque monté devant le musée Van Gogh à Amsterdam ? C’est comme si l’anti-poète voleur de feu et buveur d’absinthe crachait des pétales de napalm dans l’opéra reality show de cette prévisible ironie dans laquelle lui et nous sommes tous encagés (« je n’arracherai pas mes yeux à la fin de cette fable ridicule » - Henrik Aeshna, in Paris, « Opéra »).

 

Le pouvoir économique achève et verse le champagne promis dans la coupe vide des têtes comblées, droguées, maintenues. Actuellement le marché colonise, contrôle et manipule la psyché de l’homme, passant de sujet-acteur conscient de son désir à objet d’un désir haché offert en kit. Les zombis modelés auront vite et bien satisfait, comme une envie de chier, une part de leur désir personnel autorisée dans cette sinistre masturbation. - Bienvenu(e) dans MEDUSA TV* !

 

SORTIR DE LÁ EST UNE URGENCE ! THIS IS AN EMERGENCY !

 

Sortir de ce Marasme fait d’éparpillements d’ablations de clivages, Quitter ce monde calculé prêt-à porter est une urgence, faire pousser des fleurs enivrantes aux couleurs vibrantes éclatant de pigments organiques, réintégrer la vie, sucer le jus délicieux des cactus infernaux, se jeter des falaises dans l’océan hurlant, DANSER, danser dans le silence, foutre un point dans la gueule des convenances assises sur leurs chaises en attendant qui, quoi, GODOT?

 

Sortir de ces boîtes (à images, à musique, à slogans) envouteuses, débilitantes et trompeuses. Broyer le bavardage ambiant et écouter, observer le souffle des orages.

 

Perception pure, sauvage, immédiate et intégrale d’intensités tournoyantes, c’est de là qu’émergent les visions et le Vagissement* d’Henrik Aeshna, poète-bombe-enfant-sauvage qui fusionne le réel et le rêve vécu en des points de contact fulgurants dans lesquels l’esprit-poète allume anime et travaille l’éclosion de cette langue-passage, langue-extase qui retourne le sang des tambours derviches et touche leurs plus secrètes intimités.

 

Elodie Noël

 

°site officiel : http://www.henrikaeshna.com

°sur Tsunami bOOKS, Paris : http://tsunamibooks.jimdo.com/

 

° Quelques traductions de Joyce Mansour, Antonin Artaud, Francis Picabia, Arthur Cravan, Mireille Havet, Aimé Césaire, Achille Chavée, poètes Beat ( Jack Kerouac, William Burroughs, Bob Kaufman, Jack Micheline, Allen Ginsberg, Lawrence Ferlinghetti, Alexander Trocchi, etc ), Alejandra Pizarnic, Roberto Piva, Claudio Willer, Al Berto



° Activités passées et courantes :  musicien underground, organisateur de Happenings et performances et aussi d'un laboratoire pour les enfants ( PERCEPTION & SENSIBILITÉ )

 

° Revues, extraits, collaborations, SCANDALES: France, Etats-Unis, Royaume Uni, Pays-Bas, Danemark, Croatie, Lithuanie, Portugal, Brésil, Argentine, Mexique, Inde...

 

 

HENRI MICHAUX & MESCALINE : Images du monde visionnaire (1963)

Click on the pic to see FULL VIDEO

Images du monde visionnaire, an educational film by French poet and painter  Henri Michaux (1899-1984) and Eric Duvivier which was "produced in 1963 by the film department of Swiss pharmaceutical company Sandoz (best known for synthesizing LSD in 1938) in order to demonstrate the hallucinogenic effects of mescaline and hashish."

 

Images du monde visionnaire

 

Un film d'Henri Michaux, réalisé par Eric Duvivier.
Musique Gilbert Amy.

 

Ce film se propose de montrer les types d’images, et leurs façons spéciales d’apparaître et de disparaître, qu’un sujet quelconque, soumis à l’action de certaines substances psychotropes, voit défiler en son imagination avec une clarté extrême et sans l’intervention de sa volonté. Deux genres de visions, dont on a ici accusé les différences plutôt que les ressemblances, correspondent donc à deux hallucinogènes.

 

CINEMA & SUBVERSION IN EAST GERMANY - Counter Images: GDR Underground Films 1983-1989

It's amazing (and gratifying) to realize that such 'subversive' films were made in the GDR.

- Amos Vogel, Film as a Subversive Art

 

...Have finally found BERLIN SUPER 80 : Music & Film Underground West Berlin 1978-1984's twin soul!

 

 

A selection of ten films made between 1983 and 1989 by young East German artists, musicians, performers and writers, who produced their films outside official channels. Many of the directors in this collection – such as Helge Leiberg, Via Lewandowsky, and Cornelia Schleime – have now become leading figures in the international art world.

In a country where all art and access to art materials was subject to state control, the Super-8 film format provided underground artists with a new form of expression. As the bonus film The Subversive Camera makes clear, the Stasi paid close attention to Super-8 films and the underground artists’ scene. Individual titles include:


– action situation (Leiberg, 1983)
– 7x7 Facts about the Present Life of the Poet Tohm die Roes (di Roes, 1983)
– Samuel (Klauß, 1984)
– Little Angel (Frydetzki, 1985)
– Necrology (Löser, 1985)
– September, September (Hahnemann, 1986)
– Draped in White (Schleime, 1987)
– Report - A Comment on a Comment (Lewandowsky, 1987)
– Hello, Berlin (Werner, 1987)
– Konrad! The Mother Said (Köppel-Welsh, 1989)

 

Cornelia Schleime
Unter weißen Tüchern
(Draped in White)
1983

A lonely woman is moving through closed rooms, she's waiting, we don't know what for. Surreal scenes as a reaction of the paralysed time. Cornelia Schleime is an important painter, she also left GDR in the 80's.

 

Claus Löser
Nekrolog
1985

Paranoia as a allday feeling. Kafka-like scenes from Karl-Marx-Stadt (today Chemnitz).

 

MORE FILMS at http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=UU13LjFsiqFo8tTqfggvjOsQ 

 

Essay by Claus Löser from the liner notes of the video Gegenbilder (GDR Underground Films)

 

The fact that there was a flourishing subculture in East Germany outside of the official film production studios in Babelsberg (DEFA) and Adlershof (GDR television) is widely unknown. Especially today with the increased interest in the culture of eastern Germany, these underground films, which veered from the norms supported by the state, are becoming increasingly important.

 

Despite popular opinion, the part of Germany located east of the Elbe was not just a culture characterized by joyous citizens and members of the communist party's Free German Youth. The very active subculture stubbornly threw sand in the machinery of bureaucracy and practiced aesthetic disobedience on an unusually high niveau. Ten years after the fall of the Wall, we have a collection of films, which for the most part were created under improvised conditions, but which present us with a unique message. These films have not lost any of their allure.

 

In 1976, after the surprising expulsion from the GDR of the famous songwriter and poet Wolf Biermann, the SED (Socialist Unity Party of East Germany) imposed strict censorship on the intellectual scene. Prominent pro-party authors and other artists made appeals to the government demanding that they lift these restrictions. However, all attempts at mediation failed. Resignation became a widespread phenomenon and was represented in the unusually large number of emigrants. But the so-called "Biermann Shock" was an overdue sobering moment. Only at this point was the emergence of a prolific subculture possible. During the first years of the 1980s a new generation of artists presented themselves to an audience, however limited - a generation that could free itself from the restraints of the postwar period. No one was going to be fooled by the illusion that the present society could be changed or by the pretense of the slogan "Socialism with a human face." Instead of changing one's surroundings, one created one's own reality. Not unrelated to this development, many self-help shops opened up, the silk-screening process produced many newspapers, and numerous punk bands thumbed their noses at the required "statute performance allowance." The tragedy of this scene was its constant fluctuation; the emigration of many of the leading pioneers to West Berlin and West Germany resulted in the dissolution of this movement. This one of the reasons why none of the other East-block states had a comparable art-based movement.

 

Within this subculture scene, many reels of 8mm and 16mm film were recorded for private use, for use in churches or for galleries and concert halls. In Rosenwinkel, Berlin, Dresden, Greifswald and Karl-Marx-Stadt (Chemnitz) there were even improvisational festivals. The filmmakers were mainly painters, who at the end of the 1970s discovered Super 8mm film as a medium for artistic expression. Originally intended for home video, the Soviet-made "Quartz" camera was used to expand the spectrum of artistic possibilities and to break away from the dogma of classic filmmaking. Multimedia experiments by a.r. penck in Dresden or from Lutz Dammbeck in Leipzig broke the norms of "painterly" films. Later, as the nucleus of this subculture moved from Saxony to East Berlin, subsequent alterations in the language made the films more narrative and thus closer to literature. Particularly obvious during the end phases of this movement, was an elevated level of "synaesthesia." Filmmakers began to understand one another less as filmmakers and more as poets, painters or musicians.

 

One felt most at home amidst a lot of media. It almost appeared as thought the physical barriers led to a kind of "time traffic jam" which resulted in a multiplication and compression of artistic articulation.

 

Following Prussian tradition, the GDR had a law for every possible situation, including illegitimate filmmaking. But the actual law governing the "license of permission in film" was interpreted differently depending on the region of the GDR in which one lived. In Chemnitz and Greifswald for example, it could go as far as home searches, confiscation of film stock, or even arrest. In Berlin, a carnival license was often granted. Of course, all private film production was considered illegal, and everyone that participated was aware of the dangers. Those who decided to enter into this subculture openly demonstrated a refusal to comply with the control and welfare agencies of the state. At that moment, one said goodbye to the career that one had in the "system."

 

It is almost contradictory to imagine today that these films, once considered extremely political, were actually neutral and quite apolitical. The actual political statements that could have been made, for instance about environmental damage or militarization, were rarely brought up. It appears as though a simple rejection of the banalities of the GDR was predominant. That with which one was confronted on a daily basis was not allowed to infiltrate the realms of the artistic world. Nevertheless, these films also serve today as valuable time capsules with high documentary value -- perhaps even unwittingly. These films present us with perspectives on the world and the state of humanity that were not desired or allowed by the official media of the GDR.

 

Resources available at the DEFA Film Library:

 

Fritzsche, Karin, and Claus Löser. Gegenbilder: Filmische Subversion in der DDR 1976-1989. Texte, Bilder, Daten. Berlin: Janus, 1996.

 

LINKS:

 

http://www.umass.edu/defa/films/gegenbilder.shtml

 

FRANCAIS / ENGLISH: http://www.art-action.org/site/fr/catalog/archive/00_01/htm/1251.htm

 

 

Curator, filmmaker, film historian and journalist Claus Löser is the co-founder of ex.oriente.lux, an archive devoted to East German underground and experimental films, and co-publisher of the volume Counter-Images: Filmic Subversion in the GDR 1976-1989. Löser curated the Counter-Images DVD, released by the DEFA Film Library in 2008, and the film series Winter Adé – Filmische Vorboten der Wende at the 2009 Berlin Film Festival. Löser has just released his documentary about the private East German gallery EIGEN + ART that existed 1983-1989.

 

RELATED ARTICLE :

 

BERLIN SUPER 80 : Music & Film Underground West Berlin 1978-1984


 

DANDY (1988)- a Voltaire-inspired anti-fairytale by Peter Sempel - Featuring Blixa Bargeld, Nick Cave, Kazuo Ohno & Nina Hagen

- “What would you do if you had only ten days to live”?

- “just get very stoned.”

 

 

Credits

A Pandora film production. Produced by Niko Brucher and Peter Sempel. Directed by Sempel. Camera (b&w and color), Frank Blasberg, Jonas Scholz, Norimichi Kasamatsu, and Sempel; editor, Wolf Ingo Romer; music, Yellow, Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, Einsturzende Nuebauten, Birthday Party, and others; sound, Drago Hari, Takashi Endo, Kai Wessel, and others. Reviewed at the Vagabond Theatre, L.A., October 29, 1992. No MPAA Rating. Running time: 91 min.

Cast

With Blixa Bargeld, Nick Cave, Dieter Meier, Kazuo Ohno, Yoshito Ohno, Nina Hagen, Lene Lovich, Rattenjenny, and others

 

 

More on Peter Sempel's SITE

 

EXHIBITION / EXPOSITION HENRIK AESHNA & SCHIZOPoP MANIFESTO - PARIS, December 8, 2012

EXHIBITION / EXPOSITION HENRIK AESHNA & SCHIZOPoP MANIFESTO - PARIS, December 8, 2012

 

SCHIZOPoP MANIFESTO says: GIVE ART/LIFE AN ORGASM

 

 

Exhibition HENRIK AESHNA & SCHIZOPoP MANIFESTO

Click on the image to see the animated flyer-installation

Theatroom proudly presents:

 

EXHIBITION / EXPOSITION

HENRIK AESHNA & SCHIZOPoP MANIFESTO

 

(intravenous visual deliriums + Tantrik Alchemy of Daily Life + Shamanoise readings, concerts, installations
+ CABARET TOXIQUE)

 

VERNISSAGE :
December 8, 2012
4p.m. to 10p.m.

GALERIE DU THEATROOM
4, CITE' DU MIDI /
PIGALLE
75018 PARIS

M° Pigalle / Blanche / Abbesses

 

Check out the animated flyer-installation HERE

 

Official site Festival International THEATROOM

Les Entrailles des Villes -

Chronique d'une Indigestion

(check out full schedule)

'MARSEILLE BLUES - cadavre exquiszophrène avec 50 personnages': une abracadabrante aberration mise en scène par Yves-Alexandre Tripkovic et Theatroom

'MARSEILLE BLUES - cadavre exquiszophrène avec 50 personnages': une abracadabrante aberration mise en scène par Yves-Alexandre Tripkovic et Theatroom

 

 

° Dans le cadre du Festival International THEATROOM 'Les Entrailles des Villes' :

 

"MARSEILLE BLUES est un volcan de poésie sale & sublime, de sexe, drogues et dépravation, apocalypse érotique & carnaval, fragments bouleversants de chansons, cabaret noise & rocknroll, dada-surréalisme-situationnisme."

 

MARSEILLE BLUES - photo: Theatroom
MARSEILLE BLUES - photo: Theatroom

Une abracadabrante aberration mise en scène par

Yves-Alexandre Tripkovic et Theatroom

 

MARSEILLE BLUES - cadavre exquiszophrène avec 50 personnages + une recette de gratin de courgettes

Du mash-up apocalyptique d'Henrik Aeshna

Mise en Scène: Yves-Alexandre Tripkovic

costumes: Rita Giacobazzi

 

Avec:

 

Kenny Bernard
Delphine Farouz
Eva Freitas
David Laurent
Arianne Mallet
Simon Marlet
Salvatore Mingoia
Elodie Noël
Vincent Tissier
Anais Vannier

Henrik Aeshna

 

20, 22, 24, 29 Novembre

06, 08, 13, 20 Décembre à 18h

 

THEATROOM
4, Cité du Midi
75018 Paris

M° Pigalle / Blanche / Abbesses

 

 

MARSEILLE BLUES - publié par Tsunami bOOKS, 2011
MARSEILLE BLUES - publié par Tsunami bOOKS, 2011

MARSEILLE BLUES (par Henrik Aeshna) est un volcan de poésie sale & sublime, de sexe, drogues et dépravation, apocalypse érotique & carnaval, fragments bouleversants de chansons, cabaret noise & rocknroll, dada-surréalisme-situationnisme.
Un mash-up aussi déroutant qu’un tsunami d’humour noir possédé par l’Enfant Sage de Prévert, ici le terrorisme poétique et le "dérèglement total des sens" rimbaldien ont atteint leurs plus radicales et inimaginables conséquences.
Dénoncez cette anti-œuvre absurde absolument immorale, amorale même, politiquement philosophiquement sexuellement littérairement incorrecte, et internez, guillotinez ce pilleur fou irresponsable, avant qu’il ne remplace secrètement les plaques des rues ou les manuels scolaires par des jardins d’aberrations où les fleurs s’épanouissent comme de beaux incendies !

 

PIGALLE UNDERGROUND: CABARET TOXIQUE , November 27 2012

CABARET TOXIQUE Pigalle Underground, November 27 2012

 
* from Tsunami bOOKS (click to see full album)

 

° CABARET TOXIQUE - dans le cadre du Festival International THEATROOM - Les Entrailles des Villes

La COQUILLE: L'infernale et sublime trio fantasticus :: Anita Volk + Henrik Aeshna + Sandra Wild = CABARET TOXIQUE qui déploie plume et voix dans l'enceinte du Festival Theatroom.  - Photo: Theatroom
La COQUILLE: L'infernale et sublime trio fantasticus :: Anita Volk + Henrik Aeshna + Sandra Wild = CABARET TOXIQUE qui déploie plume et voix dans l'enceinte du Festival Theatroom. - Photo: Theatroom
 
International Festival THEATROOM

 

CABARET TOXIQUE 27.11.12 –
BEWARE PICKPO(ck)ETS & LOOSE WOMEN
Bacchus is in Pigalle!
Stray Cats on a Hot Tin Stage (or in Al Capone's cell)!
 
La Coquille: Anita Volk, Sandra Wild & Henrik Aeshna
+ Chansons Toxiques from the 20's & 30's + Ferré, Gainsbourg & others
+ original Shamanoise poems & songs by Henrik Aeshna, Anita Volk & Sandra Wild
+ original cuts by Claude Le Petit, the obscure poète libertin burnt at the stake in Paris in 1663 at the age of 23 due to his unforgivably lewd  poetic libel Le Bordel des Muses, a gorgeous spurt in the face of everything and everyone; Mireille Havet, the outlaw madonna of the Mad Years who'd outrage Paris in silence, from a promising prodigal child to a terminally junky prostitute, claustrophobic and lost, androgynous anti-cinderella dead young, and who spent 80 years to have her journals dug up from total oblivion ; and Ernest Gengenbach, the perverted satan-priest of Surrealism, a terrific mix of schizophrenia and jazz. All of these damned authors are having their words and lyrical fits morphed into music and noise for the first time ever.
+ Mash-ups mixing William Burroughs, Joyce Mansour, Bob Kaufman, Rimbaud, Henry Miller, Jean-Jacques Lebel, Abu Nuwas, Charles Bukowski, Antonin Artaud, Francis Picabia, Arthur Cravan, Kerouac, Experimental Jazz Sound Poetry.)
+ Live mash-up assault : Henrik Aeshna ("Reality Show"), Milford Graves/John Zorn, Sainkho ("Vision"), Irene Papas/Vangelis ("Infinity"), Susumu Yokota ("Secret Garden"), Jack Smith/Tony Conrad ("Earthquake Orgy"), Broadcast & the Focus Group ("A Medium's High", off 'Investigate Witch Cults of the Radio Age'), Ecstasy of the Angels (a 1972 film by Koji Wakamatsu)
(check out the result HERE)
 
 
PIGALLE UNDERGROUND
Imagine a 4-piece cave right in the heart of Pigalle, Paris’ Red Light district once haunted by Rimbaud / Verlaine, Francis Carco, Prévert, Vian, Piaf, Toulouse-Lautrec, Van Gogh, the Surrealists and other infamous cats and bohemians. Imagine each of the rooms in this poetic dungeon - looking more like Al Capone's cell at Eastern State Penitentiary, Philadelphia - littered with paintings and sculptures (part of the current exhibition), found objects, old porcelain dolls, surreal cages, candles, incense, experimental/avant-garde films, a Ouija board-like table with a couple of ancient pistols on it, absinthe, wine and Polish vodka, an improvised library with our favourite books, and in each of these rooms a caustic scene unfurling, with no barriers separating performers from guests and occasional strangers. Here you can wander around, bring your own books, or pick up any of your like from our library. You are free to read sing scream break into paranormal glossolalias, dance with burning words on your pregnant tongue; here you can come up with some spontaneous quotation or song parts kicking inside your head and make them explode, juxtapose them with other poems. Here you can bring your saxophone and pistols, your Ney flute, banjo, bongo, berimbau or digital phantasmagoria, and burn the palace of wisdom down, transform Sartre's Disneyland into a risky ring. Here everyone is chronically possessed, and our dictionary’s favourite word is ORGY (“the Cabaret Toxique will be CONVULSIVE or not at all”). A toast to BACCHUS!
 
 NEXT DATES:
December 11 & 20
 THEATROOM (Al Capone's cell !)
 4, Cité du Midi / Pigalle
 75018 Paris
 M° Pigalle / Blanche / Abbesses
 
More on CABARET TOXIQUE
 
 
 
 

COUM Transmission: "A sickening outrage. Obscene. Evil. The wreckers of civilization!"

  "A sickening outrage. Obscene. Evil. Public money is being wasted here to destroy the morality of our society. These people are the wreckers of civilization!" 

 

COUM Transmissions. (1976). Prostitution. Flyer for exhibition at the ICA, London. 29.6 x 21 cm, with photo of Cosey Fanni Tutti from Curious magazine. J.A. Walker collection.

 

COUM Transmissions was an transgressive performance art group, with inspiration stemming from Dada , Fluxus and the underground Mail Art scene, founded at the end of 1969 in Hull, U.K. by Neal Megson (soon to be known as Genesis P-Orridge ) and "Jesus" Joheero. COUM expanded its members from 1970 to 1973 to include Cosey Fanni Tutti, Pinglewad, Spydee and Ray Harvey. During it's 10 year existence, the group featured a rotating cast of other members including Haydn Rob, Timothy Poston, Ian Evetts, The Very Reverend Lelli Maull, John Smith, Fizzy Paet, Foxtrot Echo and John Gunni Busck (a.k.a. John Lacey). In 1974 Peter Christopherson joined the group and had a strong influence on its direction. The last COUM performance was in May 1978.

The group was very involved in music throughout its history even appearing on a bill with Hawkwind in October 1971. However they were also very active with performance art, mail art, installations, video, and print publications. COUM performed across the U.K. as well as in Europe and the US. In September 1975, COUM members Genesis, Cosey and Peter joined up with Chris Carter ( and focused their musical energies on the parallel project Throbbing Gristle. This left COUM to focus more on performance art in its last years.

COUM Transmission were always controversial with such avant garde happenings such as Copyright Breeches, COUMing of Age and Marcel Duchamp's Next Work, but this peaked with the "Prostitution" art exhibit at London's ICA in October, 1976 - based around photos from Cosey's career as a model/actress for pornographic magazines and films. The "Prostitution" show was also the accepted premier of Throbbing Gristle. Tory MP Sir Nicholas Fairbairn decried the show as "a sickening outrage. Obscene. Evil. Public money is being wasted here to destroy the morality of our society. These people are the wreckers of civilization!"  

 

 

 

 

From "The Sound Of Porridge Bubbling" :

 

In July 2009, American record label Dais Records released the COUM Transmissions LP The Sound Of Porridge Bubbling in a limited edition of 500 copies, as was the case with Early Worm (Genesis P-Orridge and friends, 1968) in 2008. When announcing the release of the album, Dais stated that it is to be "the first in a planned continuing series of lost recordings by COUM Transmissions".

The COUM LP was recorded in 1971 and then shelved due to the fluid nature of COUM's membership and interests. What musical content the LP features is improvisational and avant-garde in nature, and for the most part the album's tracks consist of spoken word material and sound experiments, at times reminiscent of the audio material that William S. Burroughs and Brion Gysin had been experimenting with in the 1960s.

 

 

COUM Transmissions - Nude Supper

 

 

COUM Transmission - On the Count Of Three

 

 

 

 

NURSE WITH WOUND: Lautréamont Noise & Premenstrual Music for Merry Maidens

Nurse with Wound (or shortened as NWW) is the main recording name for British musician Steven Stapleton. Nurse with Wound was originally a band, formed in 1978 by Stapleton, John Fothergill and Heman Pathak. The band has performed in many genres such as avant-garde, industrial, noise, dark ambient, and drone.

 

 

"Chance Meeting on a Dissecting Table of a Sewing Machine and an Umbrella" was the debut album by Nurse With Wound, released on their own United Dairies label in 1979. The album enjoys a reputation as one of the most singular debuts of all time. The album's title came from a famous quotation from Isidore Ducasse (writing as Comte de Lautréamont) in his novel Les Chants de Maldoror, later adopted by artists involved in Surrealism. Stapleton designed the sleeve using an old pornographic magazine.

 

Nurse With Wound - Six Buttons of Sex Appeal

 

 

Nurse With Wound / Current 93 / Coil‎ – England's Hidden Reverse (2003)

 

 

CD came with the hardback edition of David Keenan's book "England's Hidden Reverse: A Secret History Of The Esoteric Underground" published by SAF Publishing.

 

Nurse With Wound -- Premenstrual Music For Merry Maidens

 

 

DARKER SKRATCHER: a Los Angeles Free Music Society compilation (1980)

"Darker Skratcher" is a compilation of various musicians belonging to the Los Angeles Free Music Society released in 1980.

 

 

via Popsike

 

"You are bidding on the incredibly rare "Darker Scratcher" compilation LP produced by the legendary Los Angeles Free Music Society(LAFMS) on their own label in 1980. This record contains excellent performances by Jad Fair, The Doo-Dooettes, Airway, 45 Grave, and others. This collection was financed, produced, and released by the society. Hence, it was made in extremely small quantities and is quite rare. Most of the songs on here are not contained on other releases. I bought it at a record show a few years ago for 75 dollars and I'm not sure how much it is worth these days. Sleeve: NM(a few small tears on spine); Vinyl: NM."
 

 

The Los Angeles Free Music Society (LAFMS) has been, since the early 1970s, the banner heading of a loose collective of experimental musicians in Los Angeles, California who were joined by an aesthetic based around radicalism and playfulness. Key players have included Joe Potts, Tom Recchion, Joseph Hammer, John Duncan, Dennis Duck, Juan Gomez, Kevin Laffey, Chip Chapman, Fredrik Nilsen, Jerry Bishop, Ace Farren Ford, Ju Suk Reet Meate, and Rick Potts.



Notable band configurations have included Le Forte Four, Smegma (who relocated to Portland, OR in the late 1970s), Solid Eye, Airway, Monique Experience, Foundation Boo, Extended Organ, and The Doo-Dooettes. Their influence is seen most immediately in other Pacific-coast "isolationist" experimentalists like Caroliner Rainbow, Sun City Girls, and The Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, as well as Japanese noise projects like Hanatarash, Hijokaidan, and Incapacitants.



A ten-CD retrospective titled The Lowest Form of Music, comprising 1970s recordings made under the LAFMS banner, was released by the Cortical Foundation and RRRecords in 1996.

 

45 Grave - Riboflavin-flavored, Non-carbonated, Polyunsaturated Blood 

 

 

 

Foundation Boo - Nap

 

 

 

PSYCHEDELIC PEARLS: TIMOTHY LEARY & ASH RA TEMPEL - the Making of 'Seven Up' (1972) + full album

 Psychedelic pearls....

TIMOTHY LEARY & German experimental krautrock group ASH RA TEMPEL - Seven Up -- 1972

 

 

TIMOTHY LEARY & ASH RA TEMPEL - Seven Up -- 1972 

 

1. Space 0:01

a. Downtown
b. Power Drive
c. Right Hand Lover
d. Velvet Genes

2. Time* 16:00

a. Timeship
b. Neuron
c. She


Timothy Leary, Brian Barritt, Liz Elliot, Bettina Hohls, Portia Nkomo, Michael Duwe: voices
Manuel Göttsching: guitar, electronics
Hartmut Enke: bass, guitar, electronics
Steve Schroyder: organ, electronics
Dietmar Burmeister: drums
Tommy Engel: drums
Klaus D. Müller: tambourine
Dieter Dierks: synthesizer

 

 

An edited version of this article appeared in the April 2003 edition of Mojo.

 


THE MAKING OF 'SEVEN-UP'

 

 

On the night of September 12th 1970, Dr Timothy Leary escaped from jail. He climbed a tree in the exercise yard, jumped onto the roof of the cellblock, and shimmied along a telephone wire until he was over the fence. Half way along the wire his glasses fell off, and a patrol car drove underneath him, yet somehow his escape went undetected. Within days he would be flying to Algeria, with a fake passport in the name of McNellis and a bald head as his disguise. The California Men's Colony-West at San Luis Obispo was a minimum security prison, but it was still a brave and daring escape, especially for an ex-Harvard Professor of Psychology just a few weeks shy of his 50th birthday. The authorities were shocked to find him missing; he was in the minimum security prison because his psychological profile showed a docile man who was not an escape risk. But Leary had found it easy to trick the psychological tests, as he had written them himself many years before. He was embarking on a fugitive life that would be full of glamour, excitement and danger. And, although he could never have guessed it at the time, he was going to record one of the era's strangest and most ambitious albums: Seven-Up, with Ash Ra Tempel.

Ash Ra Tempel were formed in Berlin in 1970, thanks in part to the impressive size of Pink Floyd's old speakers. Schoolfriends Manuel Göttsching (guitar) and Hartmut Enke (bass) had been playing together since they were 14. They called themselves the Steeplechase Blues Band, and originally covered British bands like the Beatles, Small Faces or The Who. Before long their music would evolve and they would concentrate on improvised blues instrumentals.

The Berlin music scene was tiny at the time, so when it came time to get some new equipment, Enke set off for London. Here he found four massive speakers that had previously been owned by Pink Floyd. Somehow Enke managed to single-handedly load these huge cabinets into taxis, trains and a ferry, and get them back home. "From that moment on we had the biggest equipment in Berlin!", Göttsching remembers with evident glee.

Klaus Schulze (drums) had recently left Tangerine Dream when he stumbled into Enke and Göttsching's rehearsal room. Upon seeing the size of their cabinets he immediately suggested that they form a band together. The three went straight to a pub and within half an hour Ash Ra Tempel was born. Schulze not only gave the trio their new name, but he introduced them to the co-owner of Ohr Recordings, Rolf-Ulrich Kaiser.

"When we started there was no audience for German groups in Germany", Kaiser told the International Times in 1974. "The business was controlled by British and American groups. In Germany it is illegal to be a group's manager. After three weeks [of starting Ohr] I got asked to go to the government office and they said, 'You do something which is not allowed. If you go on you have to pay 30,000 marks fine'". The problem was that a manager tries to find work for his band, but in Germany only the Arbeitsamt, or labour exchange, is allowed to arrange work for people. Even today a manager can only operate with special permission from the Arbeitsamt. Kaiser managed to get around this problem by going into business with Peter Meisel, who then ran Germany's biggest music publishing company.

But it wasn't the lengths that Kaiser went to create a music industry that made him such a revolutionary figure in German music. It was the type of music that he signed. The German bands that did exist copied English and American rock. Kaiser believed that it was possible for German musicians to create an entirely new sound of their own. "In 1970 there were no German record companies interested in German music", he explained, "We showed the German People that they can trust their own music".

Ash Ra Tempel had dropped the blues influences from the Steeplechase Blues Band, but they had kept the love of improvisation and experiment. They signed to Ohr and released their first, self titled LP before Schulze left the band to start a successful solo career. Schulze was eager to leave the drum kit behind and experiment with the emerging technology of synthesisers. But he remained on good terms with Göttsching and Enke, and they would collaborate again many times in the future.

Wolfgang Müller took over Schultze's drumstool and the band recorded their second album, Schwingungen ('vibrations'). By now it was clear that something special was happening. The music flowed from the blissful and serene to the urgent and dark. It seemed forward looking, concerned with a bright future rather than an ugly past, and it justified Kaiser's belief in a new and original German music. English journalists would later group Ash Ra Tempel together with many varied and different German bands under the dismissive term 'Krautrock'. But soon Kaiser found his own label for the new sound. This was Kosmische Musik, and it was the music of Paradise.

When it came to producing a follow up to Schwingungen, the band had the idea of collaborating with an American underground hero of theirs. "We wanted to make an album with Allen Ginsberg", remembers Göttsching, "because we had some text by him on the sleeve of our first album. But Allen Ginsberg was nowhere to be found!"

Meanwhile, Leary had arrived in Switzerland, the birthplace of LSD. Switzerland is comprised of a number of semi-autonomous districts called Cantons, and as long as Leary kept moving from Canton to Canton, without staying in the one place for too long, he knew he would be safe from extradition to the United States.

To the outside world, it seemed that permanent exile in Europe could have appealed to Leary. "In Europe we have been contacted by several elitist, aristocratic, thoughtfully decadent drug taking groups of older people", he told Oz magazine in 1972, "who follow traditions which trace back through French poets, German mystics, elegant hashishines, silk-satin opium adepts. It's a deep, wise old continent and quite together at the moment". In these circles, Professor Leary was no longer seen as the evil destroyer of children that the American media described. He was surprised to find himself respected, and was offered teaching positions in Swiss Universities. His life appeared to be successful and exciting. He had just sold a book, Confessions of a Hope Fiend, to Bantam for $250,000, and had bought a bright yellow Porsche. He unofficially 'married' a number of women, in personal ceremonies involving gold rings. "The only graces lacking here", he commented, "are Mexican grass and Californian girls".

But behind his public face and his famous smile, things were a little more difficult. His adventures on the run were starting to take their toll. Leary had had to escape from Algiers after his initial sanctuary from American law, the Black Panthers' Algerian Embassy, had turned into another prison. He felt frustrated because he longed to return to his American homeland, and in these circumstances even Switzerland started to feel like yet another jail. Financially, he had lost the majority of the book money to an exiled French arms dealer called Michel Hauchard. More importantly, his wife Rosemary had left him shortly after they arrived in Switzerland. In his 1971 Swiss diary, he makes a number of references to being depressed.

A big influence on him at this time was the English author Brian Barritt. Like Leary, Barritt was no stranger to psychedelics, jail, or adventure. They had met in Algiers the year before and, when Leary got writer's block trying to finish his book, he asked Barritt to fly to Switzerland and help. Barritt helped steer Leary away from science and towards art, mysticism and the occult. Like most men when they're marriages break up, Leary went a little crazy for a while. They experimented with heroin, and both have claimed that they were communicating telepathically at the time.

Having failed to locate Ginsberg, Kaiser was thrilled to learn that the great Dr Leary was now over the border in Switzerland. Enke went to meet him to discuss collaboration, and gave him a copy of Schwingungen. "We hadn't heard of Ash Ra Tempel at the time", Barritt explains. "But we had been listening to odds and sods of German music. And we liked it. They weren't trying to be popstars or anything like that, they didn't really have any pop star traditions. They were more like a crowd of people who liked playing music who got together and studied music and could make good music. It sounded great to us because we'd got tired of Pink Floyd, and the stuff we were getting from the States and England was pretty sort of low-key compared to the lifestyle we were living".

Leary and Barritt had been working together on a new description of consciousness, and they suggested making an album about the different states that they had been experiencing. Of course, they were hardly the first people to talk about these states. Artists, saints and madmen have recorded them throughout history. But thanks to LSD they were no longer limited to only sporadic and unpredictable access to them. They now had a vehicle with which they could travel to them whenever they wished.

Leary and Barritt saw themselves as revolutionary explorers in the Brave New World of Inner Space, and they thought that they shared the same duty as the real-world explorers before them. They had to bring back a map. Their 'mind map' divided consciousness into 7 separate stages or levels, through which it was possible to rise. The first four levels are uncontroversial, and deal with awareness of attraction, power, social positions and sex. These stages in a child's development will take them from birth to adolescence.

The next three levels are a little trickier. These are the states that scientists are uncomfortable with, as there seems little reason for them to evolve naturally. They are concerned with an artistic appreciation of beauty, a profound sense of connection with the cosmos, and finally an understanding or archetypes and genetic history caused by stepping outside the regular flow of time. It is impossible to get any 'higher' than this, they argued, because you then loose your ego or any concept of self. You cannot go higher because there would no longer be any 'you' left. This is the 'white light', a state that Barritt had glimpsed once but Leary never achieved.

Leary's idea was to make a record that would be a musical interpretation of this mind map system. Side one, which was called 'Space', would feature songs based on the four lower levels. Side two, 'Time', would be three instrumentals based on the three higher levels. This was described by Barritt with the equation, "Time + Space = timESPace". Put the Time and Space sides of the record together, he said, and the ESP would appear in the hole in the centre.

We can only guess what Enke's initial reaction to all this extreme talk was. He was talented and driven, but he was young. Like Göttsching, he was still at school at the time. Hearing all these theories from such a charismatic and infamous man as Leary clearly had a profound effect, and he was soon totally convinced. A meeting to sign a contract for the album was arranged in the Juker Café in Berne, where Tim sat in the same chair once used by Albert Einstein. While Schwingungen was very much Göttsching's project, Enke would become the driving force of the new album. He headed back to Germany and got to work.

Enke recruited a whole bunch of new musicians into Ash Ra Tempel. They were mostly young, inexperienced amateurs, but they bulked up the band's sound into a fluctuating group of between five or seven musicians. Together they went into the studio and worked out the seven basic tracks (the tapes of these sessions are still filed away in Göttsching's archive). For the first couple of songs, the lowest levels, they drew on their experience of their days as the Steeplechase Blues Band and produced blues workouts. For the final and 'highest' track, they reworked the climax of side two of Scwingungen, Suche & Liebe, as it seemed unlikely that they could write a more fitting or transcendent piece of music. Leary couldn't travel to Berlin without risking capture, so the band had to go to him. Klaus D. Mueller, who was then Ash Ra Tempel's roadie and is now Klaus Schulze's publisher, borrowed a Revox tape recorder from Schulze, and the musicians set off for Switzerland.

They stayed for a week in a big house in the mountains near Berne, which belonged to a friend of Leary's called Albert Mindy. It was an idyllic, peaceful setting and there was a constant influx of many friends and visitors. Leary made a great impression on the young German musicians. "He was very friendly, always laughing", remembers Mueller. "For me he was not 'one of us', but more an adored guru, kind of untouchable. Had maybe to do with the fact that he could be our father, age-wise".

"I'd never heard of Tim Leary before", admits Göttsching. "I didn't know who he was! But I was a bit afraid because of the stories Hartmut told me. In the end he was a very nice guy, a very American guy, and very open minded. I expected something like an Indian guru, with lots of hair and chanting. He managed very well to get along with all those different characters in the group. He could sit with some people and drink a beer, he could smoke a joint, he could talk with everybody in a different way, so he was very flexible".

Although some people deny this, it seems certain that at least one orgy took place at the time, as Leary mentions it in his notes. It seems likely, however, that most of the Ash Ra Tempel party were not involved. It was initiated by Brian Barritt. "I remember that there was a lot of legs!" he says. "Ten people or something like that, all fucking at random, moving on to one another, all out of our skulls. I got the blame for that…"

Recording took place in Sinus Studios, Berne, over three hot days and nights in August 1972. This was a small, underground studio. It was entered by wooden shutters in the pavement above, which gave the impression of entering a crypt. Things got off to a good start when Leary's son-in-law, Dennis Martino, spiked a bottle of 7-Up with some crystal acid and, without informing the band, passed it round. Whatever the ethics of his actions, this did allow Barritt to finally stumble upon the perfect name for the album: 'Seven-Up'.

The first day was spent sorting out technical problems with the equipment, while Leary and Barritt got to work on the lyrics. They filled page after page of A4 with stream-of-consciousness notes, thoughts and ideas. These pages, hand-written either in biro or one of a number of psychedelically coloured felt tips, still exist and show the gradual evolution of the songs from abstract concepts into finished lyrics. The tracks on side one were recorded the next day, and side two was recorded on the final day.

It was a surprise for the band when they saw Leary walk up to the microphone. "It was not intended that Tim was going to sing", says Göttsching, "we'd never talked about it before. In the beginning the idea was just that he speaks, or that our singers would sing his words. But then he just started to sing! He was a good singer. Better than ours!"

The album was mixed by Dieter Dierks at his studio just outside Cologne. As Leary couldn't risk travelling to Germany, he sent Barritt along to oversee the mix. When they played the tapes back they discovered that the first track was almost blank, and had to be re-recorded. A local singer, Portia Nkomo, was brought in to record the vocal. "While she was singing I said dirty things to her over the headphones, you know, to try and make her freak out," recalls Barritt. "But she didn't. She was much too professional."

The atmosphere for the mix was relaxed and improvised. "Brian Barritt was sitting there, calling Timothy in Switzerland and playing the music to him through phone", remembers Göttsching, "and he'd record some of Tim's voice long distance and add it to the record. That was fun." At one point Dierks had the studio rigged as a radio station, and anyone local who tuned their radios in would hear 'Seven-Up' blasting out.

With so many people involved, it was inevitable that the mix would be a bit of a compromise. The four tracks on side one were merged together into one long piece, and Dierks added washes of synthesisers to blur the joins. "I didn't like the synthesiser thing on the first side, but Tim liked it very much", says Göttsching. But Leary wasn't getting everything his own way. "We wanted them to cut the song 'Downtown' in half, because it goes on much too long", says Barritt. "But I didn't have absolute power. Kaiser had absolute power". Leary was not happy with Kaiser's control of the project. "After the sessions in Berne were finished", remembers Barritt, "Tim said, 'Get over to cologne as fast as you can, before Kaiser fucks about with it'. So I shot over to Cologne, you know, and he'd already fucked about with it".

 

 

 

But although Leary had minor complaints about the finished record, he was excited by the overall result. "Tim was proud of his work on Seven-Up", recalls Michael Horowitz, Leary's friend and archivist who visited him shortly after the record was finished. "It was an exhilarating experience for him. He had already cut quite a few albums but this was the first time he worked with a band, and vocalised". His belief in the record is also demonstrated by the fact that he sent a tape of it to the Moody Blues.

'Seven-Up' is a difficult album to love musically. The range of styles involved is huge. Some parts are ambient and serene, yet elsewhere it sounds like punk, which is quite an achievement for 1972. This does mean, however, that its overall personality is very schizophrenic. Those involved speak of the great time they had recording it, or their intellectual satisfaction with what they got across, but no-one claims that they still listen to it. Barritt says that it is only suitable for listening to in the 45 minutes between dropping a tab of acid and the drug kicking in, just as you'd look at a road map before a car journey to give you an idea of where you were headed. But it terms of it's ambition, and the circumstances of it's creation, then it is hard to deny that Seven-Up is a remarkable record. In many ways it represents the pinnacle of sixties idealism. Kaiser, Enke and Leary believed that it was possible to make a record that, if not quite intended to take you to Heaven, would at least serve as a map to the car park next to the Pearly Gates. It is hard to imagine any contemporary artists operating at the same level of arrogance and ambition. Musicians may never get quite that high again.

Things went downhill quickly for most of the people involved in Seven-Up. Leary was finally arrested in Kabul airport, Afghanistan, a few months after the record was finished. He spent the next few years in an American jail. Kaiser would later be sued by his own musicians, after failing to pay them and using recordings without permission. His increasingly erratic behaviour and financial problems would finish him in the German music business that he helped create, and he disappeared in the late seventies. "Over the years I've heard some rumours about his whereabouts", says Göttsching. "Some say that he lives in Australia, one said that he had seen him in Bavaria". But nobody knows for sure.

Enke would soon leave the music business after suffering some form of mental problem, which many believe was linked to LSD. "During our last concert in Cologne in February '73", remembers Göttsching. "Hartmut stopped playing bass in the middle of the concert and just sat down on the stage. Klaus and me we looked at each other, and we continued to play, thinking maybe he wanted a break. And after the concert we asked him, 'Hartmut, what happened?' and then he said, 'yeah, the music that you played was just so beautiful I didn't know what to play. I preferred to listen to it'." He left the band shortly afterwards. He still lives in Berlin and Göttsching sees him regularly, but no-one expects him to perform professionally again.

Göttsching, however, has continued to record. He recruited new musicians and formed a new band called Ashra. He also records as a solo artist, and his hugely influential 1984 album 'E2-E4' has earned him the nickname 'The Godfather of Trance'. He is currently the subject of a film called 'Killing Manuel'. Brian Barritt now lives in South London, where he writes obscene short stories and shows no sign of settling into respectable retirement.

Musically, Leary was more at home with American or British artists. His great loves were Billie Holiday, Miles Davis and the Rolling Stones. He skipped over the making of this record in his autobiography, and he rarely mentioned it to his American friends. But it is clear that there was something about Kosmische music, or the recording of Seven-Up, that never left him. When Barritt visited him before he died he found him listening to Manuel Göttsching. "Well Brian", he said, referring to the music, "We landed in the right place at the right time…"

 

 

 

SITUATIONIST CINEMA - 2 films by Jorge Amat: Les Avortés (1970) & La Mort de l'Utopie (1974)

 

Les Avortés (1970) - full movie

 

 

En 1970 une bande de copains, certains élèves de Deleuze à la fac de Vincennes, mais tous fans d’Artaud de Dreyer et de Stroheim, en pleine périodes du Living theater participent à un film underground réalisé par Jorge Amat et projeté au festival d’Avignon et à celui d’Amsterdam. Avec petrica Ionesco, Nadia, jorge Amat, Michel lebeau, François Salvatori et Jean François Pastou. Soundtrack: Captain Beeheart.

 

In 1970, young filmmaker Jorge Amat, a pupil of Deleuze, Lyotard & Châtelet at Vincennes, and a great fan of Artaud, Dreyer & Stroheim, makes his first Situationist film. Les Avortés (The Aborted) was first screened at the festivals of Avignon (teamed up with the beautifully outrageous Living Theater performance Paradise Now) & Amsterdam. With Petrica Ionesco, Nadia, Jorge Amat, Michel Lebeau, François Salvatori & Jean François Pastou. Soundtrack: Captain Beefheart.

 

- Henrik Aeshna

 

La mort de l'utopie (1974)

 

 

"La mort de l'utopie" réalisé en 1974 a été programmé au festival d'Avignon puis au Cinéma le Marais; Dans ce film underground les personnages cherchent une échappatoire à leur aliénation sociale. On ne sait pas s'ils vivent leurs désirs ou s'ils sont prisonniers d'hallucinations. Avec Emmanuel Riva, José Luis Aguirre, Charlotte Trench, Christian Van Cau, Julien Negulesco.

 

"La mort de l'utopie" - The Death of Utopy - (1974) had its premieres at the Avignon Festival, then at Le Marais Cinema. In this underground film the characters seek a way out of their social alienation. We hardly know if they are living their desires or if they're the prisoners of their own hallucinations. With Emmanuel Riva, José Luis Aguirre, Charlotte Trench, Christian Van Cau, Julien Negulesco.

 

Videos by JORGE AMAT on DailyMotion:  http://www.dailymotion.com/jorgeamat#video=x78gcp 

 

Site web: http://www.jorge-amat.blogspot.com

Créateur d'images fixes et animés ayant les rêves comme source d'inspiration.
réalisateur de films et documentaires pour le cinéma et la télévision sur le désir de révolte de l'homme, l'animal dans l'homme contre une société de plus en plus policé avec de plus en plus de répression.

 

 

SEX ORGY IN A MUSEUM! - what do PUSSY RIOT & VOINA have in common? Fuck for the heir Puppy Bear!

"An exquisite seduction carried out not only in the cause of mutual satisfaction but also as a conscious act in a deliberately beautiful life - may be the ultimate Poetic Terrorism. The Poetic Terrorist behaves like a confidence-trickster whose aim is not money but change."  - "Poetic Terrorism", Hakim Bey

 

 

I'm posting this especially for a bunch of hippie moralists without a drop of humor who upbraided my manners on a Facebook post on Pussy Riot, treating me as "sarcastic" & "hedonist". Anyway, I'm quite sure most of them hypocrites who are now defending the Russian girls have never heard of Voina, nor what it means, and I'm almost sure they would also reproach Pussy Riot's Nadezhda for staging a live public orgy inside a museum back in 2008 (See pics below), which for such serious activists has nothing to do with activism/freedom/responsibility, etc, ha! As Der Spiegel has said: Voina Challenges Putin with Imagination. But this will surely shut your mouths! CANONIZE PUSSY RIOT! - Tsunami bOOKS (Henrik Aeshna, Elodie Noël, Ju Zanon & friends)

 

"Rebirth of Russian laughing culture, traditions of absurdity and sarcasm in context of high art, that is Rebirth of lively merriment in the art-spaces. Creation of political street-art in Russia in the best traditions of skomorokh and carnival middle-age art." - VOINA

 

The connection between Pussy Riot and the group Voina has been highlighted by some of the group's critics and has been called an "aggravating moral circumstance" in the eyes of the conservative public (which constitutes about 60 per cent of Russians).

Pussy Riot members Nadezhda Tolokonnikova and Yekaterina Samutsevich participated in some Voina performances. Tolokonnikova was part of a performance in which a number of couples were filmed having sex in the Biology Museum in Moscow in 2008 which has been called an "orgy" in the media. Samutsevich took part in actions which involved releasing live cockroaches in a court room and kissing policewomen in the Moscow metro and on the streets (which in some cases was seen as attempted assault).

 

What is VOINA?

VOINA. A street collective of actionist artists who engage in political protest art. Political orientation: anarchist. Enemies: philistines, cops, the regime. Organization type: militant gang, dominated by horizontal ties in everyday life and employing vertical relationships during actions. The group preaches renunciation of money and disregard towards the law (“the no-whoring way”). Founded by Vor and Kozlenok in October 2005, the group was named after Vor (“War”). Initially, Voina actions were clandestine and anonymous, and were called “training” or “practice”. Voina has enjoyed public recognition since 2008. To date, over 200 activists have participated in Voina actions. At least 20 criminal investigations into the group’s activities have been initiated, some of them still ongoing. According to Russia’s Investigations Committee,

“Art group VOINA’ is a left-wing radical anarchist collective whose central goal is to carry out PR actions directed against the authorities, and specifically against law enforcement officials with the aim of discrediting them in the eyes of the public. Branches of VOINA exist in all major Russian cities. The group’s sympatizers number approximately 3000. VOINA members maintain contacts with anarchist groups and individuals from all around the world holding left-wing radical views on art and on the world order (Italy, Slovakia, France, USA, South Africa, Greece)”.

 

Goals and objectives of the Art-Group Voina in the period 2008-2010

  1. Rebirth of heroical behavioral ideals of an artist-intellectual, in a manner of Russian libertarian decemberism. Creation of image of artist as romantic hero, who prevail over the evil. Creation of lively romantic models in today`s soulless commercial conceptual art.
  2. Rebirth of lively expressive art, which is sincere and honest and provoking observers` deep emotional experience. Actualization of monumental expressive genres, where large scale harmonizes with totally rich in content orientation, in contrast to outdated hypertrophy of forms, which deovid of sense.
  3. Creation of innovative topical art-language, which is producing for pure art, but not for a money. It is mean language, which is adequate for today’s cultural and socio-political context, which is can show actual of the new epoch, which have no analogues in the past. Creation of Russian national actual art, without outmodedness and provinciality, and which provokes admiration of intellectuals all over the world.
  4. Rebirth of Russian laughing culture, traditions of absurdity and sarcasm in context of high art, that is Rebirth of lively merriment in the art-spaces. Creation of political street-art in Russia in the best traditions of skomorokh and carnival middle-age art.
  5. Conceptual destruction of glamour timeserving and conformist Russian art-market, which is reproducing outdated forms of art, artificially falsifying processes of pricing of art-market and creating financial pyramid from devalued art-junk.
  6. Creating of real left front of art in Russia in traditions of futurism of 1920 years, which is radically shift all ideological poles by the facts of its being. Rebirth of political protest art all over the world.
  7. War with “werewolfes in straps” for the freedom of contemporary art. War with socio-political obscurantism and ultra-right reaction for the triumph of nano-modernization in Russia. Subversion and destruction of outdated repressive-patriarchal socio-political symbols and ideologies. Art-war against all global world for total triumph of justice in Art-Area.

 

 

Fuck for the heir Puppy Bear! was an action staged by at the Timiryazev State Biological Museum in Moscow in February 2008.

The performance was dedicated to Russian presidential election. The participants undressed in the museum and started to imitate sexual intercourse in front of a black flag with a slogan "Fuck for the heir Puppy Bear! "Puppy Bear" here refers to Dmitry Medvedev, whose last name derives from medved, "bear".

Their performance was photographed and videotaped by several spectators invited by the performance group.

 

The performance was announced as a ritual for the bear totem. Plucer-Sarno explained the reason for the action the following way: "We do not have a goal to necessarily be radical provocateurs. We have a goal to be honest artists and tell what we think. We think that the government fucks the people, and the people like this. This is why the action 'Fuck for the heir Puppy Bear' was born". He also said in the same interview: "This is a portrait of pre-election Russia: everybody fucks each other, and the puppy bear looks at that with an unconcealed scorn".

Plucer-Sarno published in his blog a commentary by artist Maria Perchikhina that described the performance as an "act of subversive affirmation". According to this opinion, the taxodermic bear, which was the totem stimulus for the ritual, symbolized Russian political system termed by "imitation democracy" by Dmitry Furman, and turned into the figure of the "chosen chief bear". The goal of the action then, following the analogy with archaic rituals that assured fertility of land and home animals, is birth assistance for the new political system. The ideas of fertility and reproduction along with the national idea form the core of the new political system. The single transgressive feature in the performance was the publicity of sexual activity. Perchikhina interpreted that transgressive feature as subversive affirmation, in other words, a resistance to the system by outperforming it (similar to "trying to be better catholic than the Pope"). She also quoted and article by Inke Arns and Sylvia Sasse where the principle of subversive affirmation was explaine.

 

Political science expert Ilya Prokudin commented that the action was clearly political: "The action in Zoological museum had a political character. It was dedicated to the newly baked (we should not call him newly elected, who elected him?) puppy president, Medvedev, and mocked one of the 'national projects' curated by him, namely 'on the increase in birth rate'. For the least apprehensive, even a pregnant woman was brought. Attention did not escape a comical Jew in a frock and cylinder on the background who spread the information about the event and naturally separated himself in disgust from the event in the same report. Here, I believe, there is no need to explain anything to anybody. 'A Jew curates reproduction of animals', a painting".

 

Fuck for the heir Puppy Bear! (PHOTOS):

 















































 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

KAZUO OHNO: THE JELLYFISH DANCE or the real & subtle meaning of existence

 

 

Jellyfish.... text by Henrik aeshna, Paris

 

Whenever I see Kazuo Ohno perform I have the clear, crystalline impression that he was one of the few rare individuals to ever figure out the real & subtle meaning of existence (though we love to claim that nothing makes sense),

 

as if by forging & working out this concrete practice (- a constructio with its own vocabulary) Butoh actually is, he was: digging into the secret realms of man’s nature & reaching further beyond all false paradigms, dogmas & borderlines we humans create to interpret ourselves & the world, this absurd jungle of mirrors, signs, representations, images.

 

He just captured another order of things, and not only that, he really touched the very core of what such a complex creature like us is, without either reducing/castrating it or “channelling” it into a simplistic discipline or a “well-balanced” way of life blahblahblah;

 

on the contrary, it was by exploring it & living it to the full that he unveiled the Real Self, this multiple, metamorphic, mad, nameless Independent Body beyond all roles & representations. (Everybody wants to be something really “serious”, that is, a joke, & affirm such role over everybody. Kazuo, it seems to me, just wanted to “be” a jellyfish, yes, a jellyfish, and dance “like” one.)

 

And from such risky incursion through the Flesh he also revealed all our innate potential for expression (that is the body itself as both prima materia & creator, manufacturer of situations). By kidnapping us straight into this timeless turbulent zone where reality & dream, body & intuition, pain, ravage, the beauty & the beast co-exist & are not apprehended distinctly, he showed us the real face of the soul just in a way no psychotherapy or rational study could have ever done

 

- actually, by talking about opposites, it is not a matter of beauty & ugliness, or normal & mad & all these contraries, which are none than limiting projections designed by our thinking systems & social/cultural-political/ultra-religious moulds & prejudices, in short, BOXES, well established with the aim of both separating us from a vaster realm of experiences & taming us,

 

when deep down we are this other-field Ohno dips us into, these hallucinating amniotic neon depths where, like a seismograph at fever pitch, he captures all this clandestine parade of faces gestures convulsions, this succession of inner deaths we all go through, these avalanches & landslides, these geological cataclysms of the soul, these subterranean emotional thorns embedded deep in the flesh, all these birthomorphosis, these vegetal dolls & blood-soaked candle-flowers stridently burning & howling in the absurd incomprehensible vastness, these canyons, these monsters & phantoms, this decay, these fits of grace, these plateaux, this splendour, these shadows, these vertigos, this madness, this dread, this chaos,

 

all rolled up not into a simple crystallization of things or another representational mask, but exploding

 

into kind of a pure intense flow, an ever-pouring torrent of sensations & body visions feeling themselves, playing with themselves, flickering on & on till there are no more contradictions & all wonderfully morphs into a strange kind of Tao-Zen-like harmony, which is the very boiling point of this mysterious logic-defying Alchemy of Happening named Butoh, and what a grace!,

 

as if he had dug up, unlocked the secret of  “ flowers & floods  " - & the secret of the blood, as I said once in one text of mine, dedicated to Ken Russell, Isadora Duncan & Frida Kahlo.

 

Kazuo Ohno literally LIVED, I mean “not LIED” like we are taught to do, to live as sterile neurotic parodies/caricatures of the real Living. He took the risk just like any real wolf would have, loyal only to its nature & innate challenges - wild dancing on a tight rope over the abyss that separates thought & gesture -, & through the radical exploration of his body he pulled down the psychic barrier separating man & woman, inner & outer worlds; -

 

Rather than being a stainless God, a fossil diva or another untouchable ultra-transcendental immortal masterwork caged in a mausoleum/museum, worshipped & idolized by fanatics & fetishists, he was like a living totem-cinema redesigning himself in the space, just happening, a living painting dissolving in the rain & merging with it, or a flesh-and-bone jellyfish, a butterfly’s scream, a balloon, a plum blossom, blowing in the wind - or he was just a bird, 100% alive, present, whose real apotheosis, beyond merely mating & reproducing, is flying & singing (- to Ceasar what is Caesar’s, I know we are not birds, but who knows if they really are….), thus revealing all its nature as well as its relation to the Whole, and through Butoh he made it to his truth, the truth of us all.

 

Kazuo Ohno - The Written Face

 

* ALSO:  Flowers & Floods - a poem for Ken Russell (by Henrik Aeshna)

 

 

 

Damião Experiença & Planeta Lamma (1974): streetwise philosophy & an anti-pop aberration ahead of its time (+ full album)

 

 

Damião Experiença & Planeta Lamma (1974): an anti-pop aberration ahead of its time

 

reporter: Henrik Aeshna, Paris

 

Imagine a hardcore/grindcore Bob Dylan who learnt music while in prison, busking around with an apocalyptic look & dreadlocks in the tropical sun of 1970s Rio de Janeiro, skreighing in a strange tongue he himself invented, pouring out the pains of existence, Dadaist occultism, conspiracies, & defending lesbianism, besides working as a pimp to produce his 100% independent records. Imagine Antonin Artaud, the creator of the Theatre of Cruelty, re-emerging from a nine-year season in hell in psychiatric institutions & being injected into Bongo Joe’s or Captain Beefheart’s veins to shake up & rape all the pillars & panes of all our deepest fears & hypocrisies – Boom. Now forget any associations & try to focus on the real thing, that is, Damião Experiença, the cat who’s been around.

 

Planeta Lamma (or “Planet Lamma”) is ex-pimp & Navy officer Damião’s debut album , released in 1974, and most intriguingly, this outlandish dada psych folk-core gem recorded with a one-string acoustic guitar, burning with tribal rattles, harmonica, aggressively raw throat vocals alternating with ethereal holler-mood glossolalias, was composed just after Damião was released from prison following a turbulent runaway life of starvation & pimping on the streets; legend says he was sentenced to one year in prison, one month of which kept isolated in solitary confinement, after deserting his job in the Brazilian Navy – it was there, therefore, locked inside the darkest depths of existence, that he first experienced the so-called Planet Lamma (along with its alien language) which would later make up his aesthetics throughout his works. He had gone in as Damião Ferreira da Cruz, his christian name, and emerged as Damião Experiença. (as I’ve just read a recent report on BBC saying: “As two men in Louisiana complete 40 years in solitary confinement this month, the use of total isolation in US prisons is high. What does this do to a prisoner's state of mind?” – can you picture what’s like?) But oh no, compared to Damião Experiença’s track “Planeta Lamma”, i.e., bands such as Ratos de Porão or G.G. Allin sound like spoilt boys playing with Barbies & fake blood!!!

 

Most known for his innovative art concept, completely stranger to any established paradigms, Damião Experiença’s lyrics as well as his approach on instruments have no parallels in the history of Brazilian art. On the other hand, even with the recent reverential wave from some Brazilian indie musicians & filmmakers over his strikingly way-out work & originality, which helped to pull him back from a 10-year self-exile, the 77-year-old cult legend still remains underrated & hailed by both public & critics, let alone he is often treated as a crusty bum or madman whenever he’s seen in the street (although we have to admit that he himself has somehow “contributed” to such “vip” treatment, which doesn’t justify at all the censorship on his music & person though). Actually, Damião rarely gives interviews & refuses to sign contracts, besides he dislikes journalists & media in general. Also, due to his unyielding attitudes towards music & art, his obscurity, life style & visual, he has also been often linked to other genial “freaks” such as Jandek, Frank Zappa, Sun Ra, George Clinton, Fela Kuti & Moondog, to whom I would also add (or mix in) Arte Povera, candomblé, voodoo, psych, punk & grindcore, Mississippi country blues, noise, experimental, and all that is unconventional & outsider. Damião evokes elements & nuances from all these, yet one needs to listen to his records to discover how & where these links intertwine.

 

According to an unofficial bio, the aesthetic of his musical work also incorporates surrealistic lyrics, a dialect (that from Planet Lamma), an autobiography, collages on his records covers based on his totally out-of-this-world look, which consists of elements picked from the streets & attached to his clothes, kind of banners, packages, lights parts, newspaper cuts, pins & scraps. The themes & characters that haunt his records are beyond any explanations, ranging from faraway marine riots to Isabelita Peron, Bob Marley, Adolf Hitler, Fidel Castro, former Brazilian president Getulio Vargas, all mixed up to Communism, abortion, dictatorship, drugs, music, police violence, virginity, marriage, hunger, semiotics, Rastafarian culture &, of course, the names of planets created by himself.

 

But whatever, now go & listen to the “Old Sage of the Streets” & help his work bridge the gap between the obscurity & ignorance still surrounding it & some fair degree of recognition. Even if Damião himself doesn’t give a shit…

 

(scroll down all the way to the bottom page for his BIO, or for further details check out the webpage some fellow musicians have set up for him) - actually, I hope I've improved the original translation...) 

 

 

 

 

 

Planeta Lamma (1974)

TRACKLIST :

 

01. 1308 Registrou gravou rose Olíria Experiença
02. Que dor eu sinto
03. A vida é sempre assim
04. Linguagem do povo do infinito ao universo de rose 1999
05. Loucura total 1999 a Damião Experiença
06. Amente astrologica 1999
07. Planeta lamma
08. Minha dor
09. Som planeta lamma
10. Planeta bicho
11. Mundo no espaço
12. Meu passado ? meu presente
13. Linguagem do planeta lamma música do planeta lamma
 

*

 

 

 

BIO (fragments from his site):

 

Born in 1935 in a small town in the state of Bahia, Brazil, at the age of 13 Damião runs away from home to escape the violence of his abusive parents, who would hit him with a cane, and thus he travels as a stowaway aboard a ship to Rio de Janeiro. There, he goes to live in the zone amidst hustlers & prostitutes, and discovers the world early; as he starves, he decides to join the Brazilian Navy for a living. He leaves job after job, and it is on the street he becomes a man. He haunts whorehouses & seedy dens, decides to live with a woman in a makeshift house in a slum, and deserts the navy. Regretted, he comes back after a couple of weeks, but is sentenced to one year in prison, one month of which kept isolated in solitary confinement. When released, he is no longer the same; it was there in jail he knew the Planeta Lamma (Planet Lamma). He had gone in as Damião Ferreira da Cruz and went out as Damião Experiença.

 

He starts painting, paints a canvas titled Planeta Lamma, and learns music while in prison with his cell mates, we are in the Brazil of the early 1960’s, shortly before a dictatorial regime which would rule the country for 20 years following a military putsch, those are the times of hippies, communal life styles, lsd, psychedelia, Tropicalia, student movements, repression, torture, exiles. Damião is in the middle of this turmoil. Also, according to other versions, it is said that he had been imprisoned for pimping.

 

Released from prison, he gets a new job in the Brazilian Navy, this time as a radar operator, and after a few years on this he retires because of a work accident, being considered handicapped; actually, Damião fell from the mast & hit his head, which for some might have caused his turbulent mental state & the obscurity of his songs, as for others he is gifted with a profound world view, being actually a sage.

 

Damião is back to the streets & to the profession he had embraced still in his teenage years: pimping. He uses the money gained with prostitution to recording & producing his records, the first of them issued in 1974, titled Planeta Lamma, a one-man vinyl nugget in which he plays an acoustic guitar with only one string, a sort of rattle attached to it so as to create a percussive effect, and a harmonica with a neck rack. Such a superb album, it was thoroughly recorded in the Planet Lamma dialect, a language he himself learnt (or invented?).

For those who ask, such dialect really exists, it is bona fide & Damião himself can talk to you whenever you want to in this language. He sings the songs from all the records, and often speaks in such dialect, even getting to translate whole phrasings. Does he know it by heart? Who knows?

 

...

 

 

 

 

CAROLINE SCHNEEMANN - Fuses (1965)

 

1965. Self-shot. 16mm film. 18 min.

 

A silent film of collaged and painted sequences of lovemaking between Schneemann and her then partner, composer James Tenney; observed by the cat, Kitch.

 

"...I wanted to see if the experience of what I saw would have any correspondence to what I felt-- the intimacy of the lovemaking... And I wanted to put into that materiality of film the energies of the body, so that the film itself dissolves and recombines and is transparent and dense-- as one feels during lovemaking... It is different from any pornographic work that you've ever seen-- that's why people are still looking at it! And there's no objectification or fetishization of the woman." – Carolee Schneemann

 

 

 

 

WALLACE BERMAN & SEMINA: the lost treasure box of the Beat Generation

 

If I could link SchizoPoP Manifesto to someone else’s work over the past few decades, this would possibly be New York-born artist Wallace Berman’s Semina. When I first stumbled upon one of his magnificent collages the satori was as fast as a lightning revealing the enlightened, ravaged face of a long lost soul merz-brother. So welcome to Semina Culture.

This groundbreaking hand-printed, loose-leaf art & poetry journal run from 1955 to 1964 in 9 issues was the secret treasure trove of the US West Coast underground avant-garde/Beat scene, along with its twin newsletter journal, Floating Bear , edited by Leroy Jones (Amiri Baraka) & Diane Di Prima . The format was a letterpress text printed on loose sheets of paper featuring drawings, collages, found objects, poems, photographs & mail art - much like Kurt Schwitters ’ Dadaist ephemera MERZ or something between Surrealism & Fluxus -, and the issues were given or mailed out to its contributors, including John Altoon , Charles Brittin , Charles Bukowski , William S. Burroughs , translations of Jean Cocteau & Antonin Artaud ’s texts on Mexico, Allen Ginsberg , Marion Grogan , Dean Stockwell , Walter Hopps , Larry Jordan , former child movie stars (i.e., Dennis Hopper ), Philip Lamantia , Michael McClure , David Meltzer , Stuart Perkoff , John Wieners , and Berman himself under various pseudonyms. Berman (1926-1976) was a very influential figure behind these artists, writers & renegades (most of whom ended up in poverty, disgrace or suicide), and if there’s someone likely to be the Beat Generation’s visual artist par excellence, mostly when referring to its early times, this would indeed be him, or just as a writer has stated: “Semina Culture reveals that the Beat Generation’s art deals with the same themes as their writing: road-tripping, drugs, spirituality (Berman was into Kabbalah way before Madonna), and jazz.”

 

Highlights: the whole of issue 3 is dedicated to Michael McClure’s “Peyote Poem” (actually, it was Berman who introduced McClure to the Mexican sacred drug), and issue 5 is made up of Artaud’s revelations about Mexico (depicting his journey to the heart of the Sierra Tarahumara in search of peyote in the mid 1930s), with loose-leaf poems by Bob Kaufman, Philip Lamantia & John Wieners also evoking their own experiences with the cactus. Interestingly too, it was in Semina that William Burroughs had his first text ever published, the poem prose about the junk-addled character Rose Pantopon, which would later be rearranged into a new section in Naked Lunch.

 

Among those who formed Berman’s circle in L.A. & San Francisco, all say he was charismatic but reclusive, a mystery-drenched catalyzer who was totally immersed in his spiritual art (including the ‘bop-kabballah & jazz’ vision which would influence Ginsberg & David Meltzer). Still in his teens, he had already a mauvaise reputation as a trouble boy, having been expelled from school for gambling & other délits. In his first-and-only exhibition, in L.A., in 1957, he was arrested for showcasing a “lewd” peyote-induced drawing of a copulating couple by a friend, Marjorie Cameron Parsons Kimmel, a.k.a. Cameron (1922-1995), an artist, performer and black magic practitioner influenced by Aleister Crowley. The infamous drawing appeared in the first issue of Semina. Following such a revolting incident, where he was found guilty & fined $150, he moved with his wife to San Francisco, announcing: "I will continue to print Semina from locations other than this city of degenerate angels." After that, I wonder how he made it to the Beatles’ Sgt. Pepper’s album cover….!!!

 

Also worthy of interest is Berman’s silent short film Aleph (1955-1956), a meditation on life, death, mysticism, politics, and pop culture, which includes stills of collages created with a Verifax machine.

 

And another demi-phantasmagorical anedocte around Kerouac ’s jazz daîmon angel muse Charlie Parker : “Wallace Berman designed the cover for this 1947 78rpm record set on the Dial label that showcased the emergence of bebop jazz. Berman and his friend Robert Alexander were in the studio when a drug-addled and increasingly erratic Charlie Parker made this notorious recording of “ Loverman .” On this hot and rainy night, as Alexander recalls in a 1988 interview, Parker stormed off shirtless down Sunset Boulevard with his saxophone around his neck. »

 

"Art is Love is God" ("Untitled" by Wallace Berman, also published in The Outlaw Bible of American Poetry , edited by Alan Kaufman)

 

reporter: Henrik Aeshna, Paris

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In his one-and-only exhibition, in L.A., in 1957, he was arrested for showcasing a “lewd” peyote-induced drawing of a copulating couple by a friend, Marjorie Cameron Parsons Kimmel, a.k.a. Cameron (1922-1995), an artist, performer and black magic practitioner influenced by Aleister Crowley. The infamous drawing appeared in the first issue of Semina.

"In his first-and-only exhibition, in L.A. , in 1957, he was arrested for showcasing a “lewd” peyote-induced drawing of a copulating couple by a friend, Marjorie Cameron Parsons Kimmel, a.k.a. Cameron (1922-1995), an artist, performer and black magic practitioner influenced by Aleister Crowley. The infamous drawing appeared in the first issue of Semina."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wallace Berman, Ferus Gallery, 1957, photograph by Charles Brittin.

 

“Photograph of Lamantia Injecting Heroin,” Wallace Berman (Pantale Xantos), 1959, incorporated in Berman’s cover for Lamantia’s Narcotica (San Francisco: Auerhahn Press, 1959).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

READ also WHEN BOWIE & BURROUGHS SLIT REALITY'S WRISTS 

 

                       SCHIZOPoP MANIFESTO, a gallery of visual anomalies & photopoems from Paris

 

Kerouac, Ginsberg, Corso & Burroughs: the four horsemen of the Bop Apocalypse

 

 

 

SCHIZOPoP MANIFESTO on BIG BRIDGE PRESS

SCHIZOPoP MANIFESTO (c) Henrik Aeshna, Big Bridge Press

artwork by (c) Henrik Aeshna, especially for Big Bridge 15th Anniversary issue

 

GIVE ART AN ORGASM! - henrik aeshna

 

SCHIZOPoP MANIFESTO is out on Big Bridge Press 15th Anniversary issue, along with dozens of other poets & artists from all four corners of the world. My schizopop anti-art selection also features a teaser from Joujouka Interzone, which is a collaboration between Master Musicians of Joujouka, French sound and visual artist Joachim Montessuis (who sent me the video) and Irish-born singer, record producer, art curator, film-maker, writer, and historian Frank Rynne (who previously produced & worked with the Master Musicians of Joujouka, William Burroughs & Brion Gysin.). 
Big Bridge is edited by our fellow poet Michael Rothenberg, who is also the creator of global event 100 THOUSAND POETS FOR CHANGE, besides being one of the most influential poets & activists in today's world panorama, also has edited & published works by Allen Ginsberg, Philip Whalen, Joanne Kyger, and many others. Check it out!

 

SCHIZOPoP MANIFESTO, a gallery of visual anomalies & photopoems from Paris

 

more on SCHIZOPoP MANIFESTO

 

 

Kerouac, Ginsberg, Burroughs & Corso: The Four Horsemen of the Bop Apocalypse

 "Blame these 4 men for the Beatnik horror - Their cult of despair is driving the teenagers to violence"

extract from the Sunday People, 1960         (CLICK on the image to view full size)

 

The People, 7 August 1960, reprinted in The Kerouac Connection 2 (1984), pp. 6-7

 

...Fears of a postwar breakdown in the Protestant ethic are offloaded on to the foreign Beats.

 

...nothing to offer but despair...

 

KEROUAC the hobos' prophet

CORSO the crank poet

BURROUGHS the ex-drug addict 

GINSBERG the hate merchant

 

READ also WHEN BOWIE & BURROUGHS SLIT REALITY'S WRISTS

 

 

THE LAST WORDS OF ANTONIN ARTAUD / LES DERNIERS MOTS D'ANTONIN ARTAUD

artwork by © Henrik Aeshna on Artaud's picture & drawings

 

"Every morning the same character comes back to fulfil his spitefully criminal and sinister killing function, which is keeping me under his spell , so as to make of me this eternal bewitched etc etc."

 

(last notebook, last words... Artaud was found dead in a psychiatric clinic room in Ivry-sur-Seine, outside Paris, on the morning of March 4 1948, of a supposedly accidental overdose of chloral hydrate. They found him prostrated like a fetus at the foot of his bed, amongst his writings & excrements. He was 52.) 

 

*

 

"Le même personnage revient chaque matin accomplir sa révoltante criminelle et assassine sinistre fonction qui est de maintenir l’ envoûtement sur moi, de continuer à faire de moi cet envoûté éternel etc etc."

 

(extrait du dernier de ses 406 cahiers, le Jeudi 4 mars 1948, victime d'une surdose accidentelle d'hydrate de chloral, produit dont il connaissait mal l'usage. On l'a retrouvé recroquevillé au pied de son lit, au millieu de ses écrits & de ses excréments)

 

Pangée: un jardin techno-shaman dans le printemps de Paris

"Je retrouverais le secret des grandes communications et des grandes combustions"

- Aimé Césaire

 

PANGÉE , le jardin instrument

du 14 au 22 avril, de 15 à 19h en accès libre

musée du quai Branly, 37 quai Branly 75007 Paris terminal prêté en échange d’une pièce d’identité

 

Impressions écrites-translucidées (sous forme d'article) par Henrik Aeshna

 

 

Salut Collectif MU,

 


Géniale cette nouvelle interaction entre nous & l'environnement; elle provoque une expérience 'techno-chamanique' hyper intense malheureusement perdue avec l'aliénation industrielle/de consommation, ou simplement volée, colonisée, manipulée/détournée par l'Industrie du Rêve Capitalisé ou n’importe quel autre système de contrôle en masse qui a bien réussi à faire une lobotomie dans la psyché de l'homme sans nécessairement passer par une intervention chirurgicale, mais en déterminant simplement des zones psycho-géographiques dans lesquelles l'homme peut sentir-consommer le produit de la vision-rêve fragmentée qu’ils offrent : voir la différence dialectique entre l’usage des drogues par les chamans (guérison, expansion des niveaux de conscience, devenir-autre, techniques de l’extase, etc.) & par la société toxicomane de masse dictée par des propos économiques qu’elle ne voit pas (stupeur immédiate, régression, abrutissement, divertissement, maquillage & sensationnalisme, fragmentation du désir dans des boîtes d’identités, etc.).

 


A priori, le REVE et/ou peut-être la capacité d'élaborer des signes & des mythes puisés dans l'inconscient, en créant un passage entre l'inconscient & le conscient, fait partie de l'homme depuis la nuit des temps, et c'est dans la liberté du rêve que tient le pouvoir de perception & transformation de l'homme & du monde; c'est là que se trouve la « clé tjurunga » qui lui permettra d’accéder aux miroirs magnétiques immémoriaux & aux zones concrètes d’expérience qui sont occultes dans l’environnement qui l’entoure, en connectant poésie, rêve et espace dans un moment rituel situé hors des médiations idéologiques de contrôle de masse, et cela même si on se sert des modèles préexistants pour fabriquer une autre expérience.

 

En fait, ça va rejoindre de manière assez intrigante l’expérience de vrai « hallucinéma » que je cherche toujours quand je sors pour me balader ou voyager, afin de faire une espèce d’ «exploration psycho-géographique d’intensités» (contraire au Tourisme préétabli) ou «parkour poéthylique», associé souvent (mais pas nécessairement) à l’alcool, le vin, l’absinthe, aux toxiques, etc., c'est-à-dire, la vie et le monde sont un théâtre, un cinéma nomade à être kidnappé par des vagabonds & pirates psychiques armés d’autres manières de penser & danser, et le film n’est jamais un produit fait, mais toujours un devenir, un Mappa Mundi sans frontières transformé en une cartographie du désir, en un web (entrelacement) de sensations, perceptions, transformations, détournements, amalgames imprévisibles, rencontres, situations ; etc. – c’est ça que j’ai senti quand j’ai mis le casque & parcouru le jardin du musée du quai Branly ; ... et sauf dans une seule vision prophétique d'antan, je n'ai jamais vu/senti la Tour Eiffel comme j'ai pu la voir cet après-midi, quand une pluie de pétales blancs & pollen a déchiré le paysage & m'a envoyé dans le marais murmurant ancien du Bardo Thödol, la boue primordiale d'où naissent toutes les formes, toutes les illusions, tous les contrastes.... En fait, j'ai compris tout cela après le déchirement insensé des tambours lointains & des grognements aborigènes, et c'était mon propre corps, ou la conception de ce corps, qui se désintégrait comme des pétales délicatement dispersés par le tourbillon, et la Tour comme une espèce de totem de fer animé signalant ma mort & ma transfiguration... j'ai écrit des images sur un papier pendant que je marchais, après avoir lu par hasard un poème-épiphanie d'Aimé Césaire ("Partir" - Cahiers du retour au Pays natal ) qui m'a suivit:



"(...) Je retrouverais le secret des grandes communications et des grandes combustions. Je dirais orage. Je dirais fleuve. Je dirais tornade. Je dirais feuille. Je dirais arbre. Je serais mouillé de toutes les pluies, humecté de toutes les rosées. Je roulerais comme du sang frénétique sur le courant lent de l'œil des mots en chevaux fous en enfants frais en caillots en couvre-feu en vestiges de temple en pierres précieuses assez loin pour décourager les mineurs. Qui ne me comprendrait pas ne comprendrait pas davantage le rugissement du tigre. (...)"


 
Henrik Aeshna
Paris Parallèle
Printemps 2012

 

*

 

Présentation officielle de PANGÉE , le jardin instrument :

 

un parcours sonore de MU et Joachim Montessuis sur une proposition éditoriale de Madeleine Leclair, musée du quai Branly

Pangée est une installation sonore consacrée à la collection des instruments du musée du quai Branly. Dans le jardin du musée, un territoire sonore en mouvement retrace les esthétiques des musiques instrumentales de quatre continents : Afrique, Asie, Amériques, Océanie, sur la base des fonds d’enregistrements de la médiathèque du musée. Au cœur de l’installation, les musiques des continents se rencontrent et donnent lieu à une fusion tellurique orchestrée par Joachim Montessuis.

Pendant la semaine « musée numérique », les visiteurs sont invités à explorer le jardin et la collection musicale du musée du quai Branly, munis d’un terminal et d’un casque audio équipé de capteurs. Les mouvements des spectateurs activent les sources sonores en fonction de leur localisation et de leur orientation. Pangée est une création du Collectif MU avec le compositeur Joachim Montessuis qui s’intéresse aux liens entre art, science et spiritualité et qui développe une pratique artistique intermédia ouverte et contextuelle autour du son et de la transe.

une co-production MU, REMU, musée du quai Branly avec le soutien de Orange et la participation de Ubisense

 


 

GET REAL

artwork by Henrik Aeshna

 

WHEN BOWIE & BURROUGHS SLIT REALITY'S WRISTS...

"there's a slit in the fabric of reality" - a toilet graffiti I stumbled upon in London years ago...

 

"Bowie: I change my mind a lot. I usually don't agree with what I say very much. I'm an awful liar.
Burroughs: I am too."

 

"don't you think they have a Bonnie and Clyde look?" - from writer,  

teacher & Bob Kaufman's "biographer" Maria Damon

 

- article by Henrik Aeshna

 

David Bowie, then 27, & William S. Burroughs, 60, the Rodgers & Hammerstein, rather the Bonnie & Clyde of the 70's, lost in a London dugout in 1973, an alien foxhole overlooking the Interzone; through a tiny peephole they see the Milky Way & obscure cosmogonies, dreamscapes, nightmarish cabarets, eyeless cinemas, control systems, Cancer cities, unheard-of civilizations, leaky roofs, filthy & fury, floods & plagues; and reflect upon the past present and future, waltzing furiously thru the sounds & shipwrecks of the collapsing opera of our time. For these two sideral pirates the concept of Love is just a canned flower-powery parasite impeding a more radical bud of consciousness from springing up, the Hippie dream is a cardboard pastiche as brittle as a crystal nail, Rock and roll is nothing but a sterile theater of vampires that should be hijacked, and that knife-toting Wild Boys should take over the Reality Studio & reinvent it, and moreover, Porn is better than Picasso, Andy Warhol is a green alien messiah whose disciples are drags, junkies & Campbell's cans, and Jean Genet is the very incarnation of God, or what's left of It.  - Burroughs says out: "I think the most important thing in the world is that the artists should take over this planet because they're the only ones who can make anything happen. Why should we let these fucking newspaper politicians take over from us?" Most interestingly, I remember having a glimpse of a toilet graffiti (or it was a book on toilet graffiti, never mind) in London some years ago, a blazing epiphany saying: "there's a slit in the fabric of reality", which parallelly makes me think of that bowie knife Burroughs speaks of, as well as my own notion of what poetry should be like: a rather precise weapon for tearing away all the blinds & veils, intended to awake perceptions, blast fake mass-control systems, pseudo-moralities, and reestablish once & for all the lost ancient radiant hotwire connection between reality & dream, desire & gesture, body & soul, art & life, quickly, a pirate assault to give us back the MasterKey to the Fields.

Slit God's wrists & throat to see how much it bleeds, for blood is dream, madness, ferment, revelation. A Tarahumara dream.

The great skies are open.

 

- Henrik Aeshna, Paris

 

 

Beat Godfather Meets Glitter Mainman


Rolling Stone
February 28, 1974

by Craig Copetas

 

William Seward Burroughs is not a talkative man. Once at a dinner he gazed down into a pair of stereo microphones trained to pick up his every munch and said, "I don't like talk and I don't like talkers. Like Ma Barker. You remember Ma Barker? Well, that's what she always said. ' Ma Barker doesn't like talk and she doesn't like talkers.' She just sat there with her gun."

This was on my mind as much as the mysterious personality of David Bowie when an Irish cabbie drove Burroughs and me to Bowie's London home on 17 November ("Strange blokes down this part of London, mate"). I had spent the last several weeks arranging this two-way interview. I had brought Bowie all of Burroughs' novels: Naked Lunch, Nova Express, The Ticket That Exploded and the rest. He'd only had time to read Nova Express. Burroughs for his part had heard only two Bowie songs, 'Five Years' and 'Starman', though he had read all of Bowie's lyrics. Still they had expressed interest in meeting each other.

Bowie's house is decorated in a science fiction mode: a gigantic painting, by an artist whose style fell midway between Salvador Dali and Norman Rockwell, hung over a plastic sofa. Quite a contrast to Burroughs' humble two-room Piccadilly flat, decorated with photos of Bryan Gysin - modest quarters for such a successful writer, more like the Beat Hotel in Paris than anything else.

Soon Bowie entered, wearing three-tone NASA jodhpurs. He jumped right into a detailed description of the painting and its surrealistic qualities. Burroughs nodded, and the interview/conversation began. The three of us sat in the room for two hours, talking and taking lunch: a Jamaican fish dish, prepared by a Jamaican in the Bowie entourage, with avocados stuffed with shrimp and a beaujolais nouveau, served by two interstellar Bowieites.

There was immediate liking and respect between the two. In fact, a few days after the conversation Bowie asked Burroughs for a favour: a production of The Maids staged by Lindsay Kemp, Bowie's old mime teacher, had been closed down in London by Jean Genet's London publisher. Bowie wanted to bring the matter to Genet's attention personally. Burroughs was impressed by Bowie's description of the production and promised to help. A few weeks later Bowie went to Paris in search of Genet following leads from Burroughs. Who knows? Perhaps a collaboration has begun; perhaps, as Bowie says, they may be the Rodgers and Hammerstein of the seventies.


Burroughs: Do you do all your designs yourself?

Bowie: Yes, I have to take total control myself. I can't let anybody else do anything, for I find that I can do things better for me. I don't want to get other people playing with what they think that I'm trying to do. I don't like to read things that people write about me. I'd rather read what kids have to say about me, because it's not their profession to do that.

People look to me to see what the spirit of the seventies is, at least fifty per cent of them do. Critics I don't understand. They get too intellectual. They're not very well versed in street talk; it takes them longer to say it. So they have to do it in dictionaries and they take longer to say it.

I went to a middle-class school, but my background is working-class. I got the best of both worlds, I saw both classes, so I have a pretty fair idea of how people live and why they do it. I can't articulate it too well, but I have a feeling about it. But not the upper class. I want to meet the Queen and then I'll know. How do you take the picture that people paint of you?

Burroughs: They try to categorize you. They want to see their picture of you and if they don't see their picture of you they're very upset. Writing is seeing how close you can come to make it happen, that's the object of all art. What else do they think man really wants, a whiskey priest on a mission he doesn't believe in? I think the most important thing in the world is that the artists should take over this planet because they're the only ones who can make anything happen. Why should we let these fucking newspaper politicians take over from us?

Bowie: I change my mind a lot. I usually don't agree with what I say very much. I'm an awful liar.

Burroughs: I am too.

Bowie: I'm not sure whether it is me changing my mind, or whether I lie a lot. It's somewhere between the two. I don't exactly lie, I change my mind all the time. People are always throwing things at me that I've said and I say that I didn't mean anything. You can't stand still on one point for your entire life.

Burroughs: Only politicians lay down what they think and that is it. Take a man like Hitler, he never changed his mind.

Bowie: Nova Express really reminded me of Ziggy Stardust, which I am going to be putting into a theatrical performance. Forty scenes are in it and it would be nice if the characters and actors learned the scenes and we all shuffled them around in a hat the afternoon of the performance and just performed it as the scenes come out. I got this all from you Bill... so it would change every night.

Burroughs: That's a very good idea, visual cut-up in a different sequence.

Bowie: I get bored very quickly and that would give it some new energy. I'm rather kind of old school, thinking that when an artist does his work it's no longer his.... I just see what people make of it. That is why the TV production of Ziggy will have to exceed people's expectations of what they thought Ziggy was.

Burroughs: Could you explain this Ziggy Stardust image of yours? From what I can see it has to do with the world being on the eve of destruction within five years.

Bowie: The time is five years to go before the end of the earth. It has been announced that the world will end because of lack of natural resources. Ziggy is in a position where all the kids have access to things that they thought they wanted. The older people have lost all touch with reality and the kids are left on their own to plunder anything. Ziggy was in a rock-and-roll band and the kids no longer want rock-and-roll. There's no electricity to play it. Ziggy's adviser tells him to collect news and sing it, 'cause there is no news. So Ziggy does this and there is terrible news. 'All the young dudes' is a song about this news. It is no hymn to the youth as people thought. It is completely the opposite.

Burroughs: Where did this Ziggy idea come from, and this five-year idea? Of course, exhaustion of natural resources will not develop the end of the world. It will result in the collapse of civilization. And it will cut down the population by about three-quarters.

Bowie: Exactly. This does not cause the end of the world for Ziggy. The end comes when the infinites arrive. They really are a black hole, but I've made them people because it would be very hard to explain a black hole on stage.

Burroughs: Yes, a black hole on stage would be an incredible expense. And it would be a continuing performance, first eating up Shaftesbury Avenue.

Bowie: Ziggy is advised in a dream by the infinites to write the coming of a starman, so he writes 'Starman', which is the first news of hope that the people have heard. So they latch on to it immediately. The starmen that he is talking about are called the infinites, and they are black-hole jumpers. Ziggy has been talking about this amazing spaceman who will be coming down to save the earth. They arrive somewhere in Greenwich Village. They don't have a care in the world and are of no possible use to us. They just happened to stumble into our universe by black-hole jumping. Their whole life is travelling from universe to universe. In the stage show, one of them resembles Brando, another one is a Black New Yorker. I even have one called Queenie the Infinite Fox.

Now Ziggy starts to believe in all this himself and thinks himself a prophet of the future starman. He takes himself up to incredible spiritual heights and is kept alive by his disciples. When the infinites arrive, they take bits of Ziggy to make themselves real because in their original state they are anti-matter and cannot exist in our world. And they tear him to pieces on stage during the song 'Rock 'n' roll suicide'. As soon as Ziggy dies on stage the infinites take his elements and make themselves visible. It is a science fiction fantasy of today and this is what literally blew my head off when I read Nova Express, which was written in 1961. Maybe we are the Rodgers and Hammerstein of the seventies, Bill!

Burroughs: Yes, I can believe that. The parallels are definitely there, and it sounds good.

 

 

Bowie: I must have the total image of a stage show. It has to be total with me. I'm just not content writing songs, I want to make it three-dimensional. Songwriting as an art is a bit archaic now. Just writing a song is not good enough.

Burroughs: It's the whole performance. It's not like somebody sitting down at the piano and just playing a piece.

Bowie: A song has to take on character, shape, body and influence people to an extent that they use it for their own devices. It must affect them not just as a song, but as a lifestyle. The rock stars have assimilated all kinds of philosophies, styles, histories, writings, and they throw out what they have gleaned from that.

Burroughs: The revolution will come from ignoring the others out of existence.

Bowie: Really. Now we have people who are making it happen on a level faster than ever. People who are into groups like Alice Cooper, The New York Dolls and Iggy Pop, who are denying totally and irrevocably the existence of people who are into The Stones and The Beatles. The gap has decreased from twenty years to ten years.

Burroughs: The escalating rate of change. The media are really responsible for most of this. Which produces an incalculable effect.

Bowie: Once upon a time, even when I was 13 or 14, for me it was between 14 and 40 that you were old. Basically. But now it is 18-year-olds and 26-year-olds - there can be incredible discrepancies, which is really quite alarming. We are not trying to bring people together, but to wonder how much longer we've got. It would be positively boring if minds were in tune. I'm more interested in whether the planet is going to survive.

Burroughs: Actually, the contrary is happening; people are getting further and further apart.

Bowie: The idea of getting minds together smacks of the flower power period to me. The coming together of people I find obscene as a principle. It is not human. It is not a natural thing as some people would have us believe.

Copetas: What about love?

Burroughs: Ugh.

Bowie: I'm not at ease with the word 'love'.

Burroughs: I'm not either.

Bowie: I was told that it was cool to fall in love, and that period was nothing like that to me. I gave too much of my time and energy to another person and they did the same to me and we started burning out against each other. And that is what is termed love..... that we decide to put all our values on another person. It's like two pedestals, each wanting to be the other pedestal.

Burroughs: I don't think that 'love' is a useful word. It is predicated on a separation of a thing called sex and a thing called love and that they are separate. Like the primitive expressions in the old South when the woman is on a pedestal, and the man worshipped his wife and then went out and fucked a whore. It is primarily a Western concept and then it extended to the whole flower power thing of loving everybody. Well, you can't do that because the interests are not the same.

Bowie: The word is wrong, I'm sure. It is the way you understand love. The love that you see, among people who say, ' we're in love', it's nice to look at.... but wanting not to be alone, wanting to have a person there that they relate to for a few years is not often the love that carries on throughout the lives of those people. There is another word. I'm not sure whether it is a word. Love is every type of relationship that you think of.... I'm sure it means relationship, every type of relationship that you can think of.

Copetas: What of sexuality, where is it going?

Bowie: Sexuality and where it is going is an extraordinary question, for I don't see it going anywhere. It is with me, and that's it. It's not coming out as a new advertising campaign next year. It's just there. Everything that you can think about sexuality is just there. Maybe there are different kinds of sexuality, maybe they'll be brought into play more. Like one time it was impossible to be homosexual as far as the public were concerned. Now it is accepted. Sexuality will never change, for people have been fucking their own particular ways since time began and will continue to do it. Just more of those ways will be coming to light. It might even reach a puritan state.

Burroughs: There are certain indications that it might be going that way in the future, real backlash.

Bowie: Oh yes, look at the rock business. Poor old Clive Davis. He was found to be absconding with money and there were also drug things tied up with it. And that has started a whole clean-up campaign among record companies; they're starting to ditch some of their artists.

I'm regarded quite asexually by a lot of people. And the people that understand me the best are nearer to what I understand about me. Which is not very much, for I'm still searching. I don't know, the people who are coming anywhere close to where I think I'm at regard me more as an erogenous kind of thing. But the people who don't know so much about me regard me more sexually.

But there again, maybe it's the disinterest with sex after a certain age, because the people who do kind of get nearer to me are generally older. And the ones who regard me as more of a sexual thing are generally younger. The younger people get into the lyrics in a different way, there's much more of a tactile understanding, which is the way I prefer it. ' Cause that's the way I get off on writing, especially William's. I can't say that I analyse it all and that's exactly what you're saying, but from a feeling way I got what you meant. It's there, a whole wonder-house of strange shapes and colours, tastes, feelings.

I must confess that up until now I haven't been an avid reader of William's work. I really did not get past Kerouac to be honest. But when I started looking at your work I really couldn't believe it. Especially after reading Nova Express, I really related to that. My ego obviously put me on the 'Pay colour' chapter, then I started dragging out lines from the rest of the book.

Burroughs: Your lyrics are quite perceptive.

Bowie: They're a bit middle-class, but that's alright, 'cause I'm middle-class.

Burroughs: It is rather surprising that such complicated lyrics can go down with a mass audience. The content of most pop lyrics is practically zero, like 'Power to the people'.

Bowie: I'm quite certain that the audience that I've got for my stuff listen to the lyrics.

Burroughs: That's what I'm interested in hearing about.... do they understand them?

Bowie: Well, it comes over more as a media thing and it's only after they sit down and bother to look. On the level they are reading them, they do understand them, because they will send me back their own kind of write-ups of what I'm talking about, which is great for me because sometimes I don't know. There have been times when I've written something and it goes out and it comes back in a letter from some kid as to what they think about it and I've taken their analysis to heart so much that I have taken up his thing. Writing what my audience is telling me to write.

Lou Reed is the most important writer in modern rock. Not because of the stuff that he does, but the direction that he will take it. Half the new bands would not be around if it were not for Lou. The movement that Lou's stuff has created is amazing. New York City is Lou Reed. Lou writes in the street-gut level and the English tend to intellectualize more.

Burroughs: What is your inspiration for writing, is it literary?

Bowie: I don't think so.

Burroughs: Well, I read this 'Eight line poem' of yours and it is very reminiscent of T.S.Eliot.

Bowie: Never read him.

Burroughs: (Laughs) It is very reminiscent of 'The Waste Land'. Do you get any of your ideas from dreams?

Bowie: Frequently.

Burroughs: I get seventy per cent of mine from dreams.

Bowie: There's a thing that, just as you go to sleep, if you keep your elbows elevated you will never go below the dream stage. And I've used that quite a lot and it keeps me dreaming much longer than if I just relaxed.

Burroughs: I dream a great deal, and then because I am a light sleeper, I will wake up and jot down just a few words and they will always bring the whole idea back to me.

Bowie: I keep a tape recorder by the bed and then if anything comes I just say it into the tape recorder. As for my inspiration, I haven't changed my views much since I was about 12 really, I've just got a 12-year-old mentality. When I was in school I had a brother who was into Kerouac and he gave me On The Road to read when I was 12 years old. That's still a big influence.

Copetas: The images that transpire are very graphic, almost comic-booky in nature.

Bowie: Well, yes, I find it easier to write in these little vignettes; if I try to get any more heavy, I find myself out of my league. I couldn't contain myself in what I say. Besides, if you are really heavier there isn't much more time to read that much, or listen to that much. There's not much point in getting any heavier.... there's too many things to read and look at. If people read three hours of what you've done, then they'll analyse it for seven hours and come out with seven hours of their own thinking.... whereas if you give them 30 seconds of your own stuff they usually still come out with seven hours of their own thinking. They take hook images of what you do. And they pontificate on the hooks. The sense of the immediacy of the image. Things have to hit for the moment. That's one of the reasons I'm into video; the image has to hit immediately. I adore video and the whole cutting up of it.

What are your projects at the moment?

Burroughs: At the moment I'm trying to set up an institute of advanced studies somewhere in Scotland. It's aim will be to extend awareness and alter consciousness in the direction of greater range, flexibility and effectiveness at a time when traditional disciplines have failed to come up with viable solutions. You see, the advent of the space age and the possibility of exploring galaxies and contacting alien life forms poses an urgent necessity for radically new solutions. We will be considering only non-chemical methods, with the emphasis placed on combination, synthesis, interaction and rotation of methods now being used in the East and West, together with methods that are not at present being used to extend awareness or increase human potentials.

We know exactly what we intend to do and how to go about doing it. As I said, no drug experiments are planned and no drugs other than alcohol, tobacco and personal medications obtained on prescription will be permitted in the centre. Basically, the experiments we propose are inexpensive and easy to carry out. Things such as yoga-style meditation and exercises, communication, sound, light and film experiments, experiments with sensory deprivation chambers, pyramids, psychotronic generators and Reich's orgone accumulators, experiments with infrasound, experiments with dream and sleep.

Bowie: That sounds fascinating. Are you basically interested in energy forces?

Burroughs: Expansion of awareness, eventually leading to mutations. Did you read Journey Out of the Body ? Not the usual book on astral projection. This American businessman found he was having these experiences of getting out of the body - never used any hallucinogenic drugs. He's now setting up this astral air force. This psychic thing is really a rave in the States now. Did you experience it much when you were there?

Bowie: No, I really hid from it purposely. I was studying Tibetan Buddhism when I was quite young, again influenced by Kerouac. The Tibetan Buddhist Institute was accessible so I trotted down there to have a look. Lo and behold, there's a guy down in the basement who's the head man in setting up a place in Scotland for the refugees, and I got involved purely on a sociological level - because I wanted to get the refugees out of India, for they were having a really shitty time of it down there, dropping like flies due to the change of atmosphere from the Himalayas.

Scotland was a pretty good place to put them, and then more and more I was drawn to their way of thinking, or non-thinking, and for a while got quite heavily involved in it. I got to the point where I wanted to become a novice monk, and about two weeks before I was actually going to take those steps, I broke up and went out on the streets and got drunk and never looked back.

Burroughs: Just like Kerouac.

 

 

Bowie: Go to the States much?

Burroughs: Not since ' 71.

Bowie: It has changed, I can tell you, since then.

Burroughs: When were you last back?

Bowie: About a year ago.

Burroughs: Did you see any of the porn films in New York?

Bowie: Yes, quite a few.

Burroughs: When I was last back, I saw about thirty of them. I was going to be a judge at the erotic film festival.

Bowie: The best ones were the German ones; they were really incredible.

Burroughs: I thought that the American ones were still the best. I really like film.... I understand that you may play Valentine Michael Smith in the film version of Stranger in a Strange Land.

Bowie: No, I don't like the book much. In fact, I think it is terrible. It was suggested to me that I make it into a movie, then I got around to reading it. It seemed a bit too flower-powery and that made me a bit wary.

Burroughs: I'm not that happy with the book either. You know, science fiction has not been very successful. It was supposed to start a whole new trend and nothing happened. For the special effects in some of the movies, like 2001, it was great. But it all ended there.

Bowie: I feel the same way. Now I'm doing Orwell's 1984 on television; that's a political thesis and an impression of the way in another country. Something of that nature will have more impact on television. People having to go out to the cinema is really archaic. I'd much rather sit at home.

Burroughs: Do you mean the whole concept of the audience?

Bowie: Yes, it is ancient. No sense of immediacy.

Burroughs: Exactly, it all relates back to image and the way in which it is used.

Bowie: Right. I'd like to start a TV station.

Burroughs: There are hardly any programmes worth anything anymore. The British TV is a little better than American. The best thing the British do is natural history. There was one last week with sea-lions eating penguins, incredible. There is no reason for dull programmes, people get very bored with housing projects and coal strikes.

Bowie: They all have an interest level of about three seconds. Enough time to get into the commentator's next sentence. And that is the premise it works on. I'm going to put together all the bands that I think are of great value in the States and England, then make an hour-long programme about them. Probably a majority of people have never heard of these bands. They are doing and saying things in a way other bands aren't. Things like the Puerto Rican music at the Cheetah Club in New York. I want people to hear musicians like Joe Cuba. He has done things to whole masses of Puerto Rican people. The music is fantastic and important. I also want to start getting Andy Warhol films on TV.

Burroughs: Have you ever met Warhol?

Bowie: Yes, about two years ago I was invited up to The Factory. We got in the lift and went up and when it opened there was a brick wall in front of us. We rapped on the wall and they didn't believe who we were. So we went back down and back up again till finally they opened the wall and everybody was peering around at each other. That was shortly after the gun incident. I met this man who was the living dead. Yellow in complexion, a wig on that was the wrong colour, little glasses. I extended my hand and the guy retired, so I thought, 'The guy doesn't like flesh, obviously he's reptilian.' He produced a camera and took a picture of me. And I tried to make small talk with him, and it wasn't getting anywhere.

But then he saw my shoes. I was wearing a pair of gold-and-yellow shoes, and he says, 'I adore those shoes, tell me where you got those shoes.' He then started a whole rap about shoe design and that broke the ice. My yellow shoes broke the ice with Andy Warhol.

I adore what he was doing. I think his importance was very heavy, it's becoming a big thing to like him now. But Warhol wanted to be clichi, he wanted to be available in Woolworth's, and be talked about in that glib type of manner. I hear he wants to make real films now, which is very sad because the films he was making were the things that should be happening. I left knowing as little about him as a person as when I went in.

Burroughs: I don't think that there is any person there. It's a very alien thing, completely and totally unemotional. He's really a science fiction character. He's got a strange green colour.

Bowie: That's what struck me. He's the wrong colour, this man is the wrong colour to be a human being. Especially under the stark neon lighting in The Factory. Apparently it is a real experience to behold him in the daylight.

Burroughs: I've seen him in all light and still have no idea as to what is going on, except that it is something quite purposeful. It's not energetic, but quite insidious, completely asexual. His films will be the late-night movies of the future.

Bowie: Exactly. Remember Pork? I want to get that on to TV. TV has eaten up everything else, and Warhol films are all that is left, which is fabulous. Pork could become the next I Love Lucy, the great American domestic comedy. It's about how people really live, not like Lucy, who never touched dishwater. It's about people living and hustling to survive.

That's what Pork is all about. A smashing of the spectacle. Although I'd like to do my own version of Sinbad The Sailor. I think that is an all-time classic. But it would have to be done on an extraordinary level. It would be incredibly indulgent and expensive. It would have to utilize lasers and all the things that are going to happen in a true fantasy.

Even the use of holograms. Holograms are important. Videotape is next, then it will be holograms. Holograms will come into use in about seven years. Libraries of video cassettes should be developed to their fullest during the interim. You can't video enough good material from your own TV. I want to have my own choice of programmes. There has to be the necessary software available.

Burroughs: I audio-record everything I can.

Bowie: The media is either our salvation or our death. I'd like to think it's our salvation. My particular thing is discovering what can be done with media and how it can be used. You can't draw people together like one big huge family, people don't want that. They want isolation or a tribal thing. A group of 18 kids would much rather stick together and hate the next 18 kids down the block. You are not going to get two or three blocks joining up and loving each other. There are just too many people.

Burroughs: Too many people. We're in an over-populated situation, but even with fewer people that would not make them any less heterogeneous. They are just not the same. All this talk about a world family is a lot of bunk. It worked with the Chinese because they are very similar.

Bowie: And now one man in four in China has a bicycle, and that is pretty heavy considering what they didn't have before. And that's the miracle as far as they're concerned. It's like all of us having a jet plane over here.

Burroughs: It's because they are the personification of one character that they can live together without any friction. We quite evidently are not.

Bowie: It is why they don't need rock-and-roll. British rock-and-roll stars played in China, played a dirty great field, and they were treated like a sideshow. Old women, young children, some teenagers, you name it, everybody came along, walked past them and looked at them on the stand. It didn't mean a thing. Certain countries don't need rock-and-roll because they were so drawn together as a family unit. China has its mother-father figure - I've never made my mind up which - it fluctuates between the two. For the West, Jagger is most certainly a mother figure and he's a mother hen to the whole thing. He's not a cockadoodledoo; he's much more like a brothel-keeper or a madame.

Burroughs: Oh, very much so.

Bowie: He's incredibly sexy and very virile. I also find him incredibly motherly and maternal clutched into his bosom of ethnic blues. He's a White boy from Dagenham trying his damnedest to be ethnic. You see, trying to tart the rock business up a bit is getting nearer to what the kids themselves are like, because what I find, if you want to talk in the terms of rock, a lot depends on sensationalism and the kids are a lot more sensational than the stars themselves. The rock business is a pale shadow of what the kids' lives are usually like. The admiration comes from the other side. It's all a reversal, especially in recent years. Walk down Christopher Street and then you wonder exactly what went wrong. People are not like James Taylor; they may be moulded on the outside, but inside their heads is something completely different.

Burroughs: Politics of sound.

Bowie: Yes. We have kind of got that now. It has very loosely shaped itself into the politics of sound. The fact that you can now subdivide rock into different categories was something that you couldn't do ten years ago. But now I can reel off at least ten sounds that represent a kind of person rather than a type of music. The critics like being critics, and most of them wish they were rock-and-roll stars. But when they classify they are talking about people not music. It's a whole political thing.

Burroughs: Like infrasound, the sound below the level of hearing. Below 16 MHz. Turned up full blast it can knock down walls for 30 miles. You can walk into the French patent office and buy the patent for 40p. The machine itself can be made very cheaply from things you could find in a junk yard.

Bowie: Like black noise. I wonder if there is a sound that can put things back together? There was a band experimenting with stuff like that; they reckon they could make a whole audience shake.

Burroughs: They have riot-control noise based on these soundwaves now. But you could have music with infrasound, you wouldn't necessarily have to kill the audience.

Bowie: Just maim them.

Burroughs: The weapon of the Wild Boys is a Bowie knife, an 18-inch bowie knife, did you know that?

Bowie: An 18-inch bowie knife.... you don't do things by halves, do you? No, I didn't know that was their weapon. The name Bowie just appealed to me when I was younger. I was into a kind of heavy philosophy thing when I was 16 years old, and I wanted a truism about cutting through the lies and all that.

Burroughs: Well, it cuts both ways, you know, double-edged on the end.

Bowie: I didn't see it cutting both ways till now.

 

 

 

ALEJANDRA PIZARNIK - Last seconal, Last Tango, 40 years ago (+ "Shadow of the days to come", translated from the Spanish by Henrik Aeshna)

 

"when it's night time, always, a tribe of mutilated words looks for shelter in my throat"


  a tribe of mutilated words
looks for shelter in my throat....

Text-presentation by Henrik Aeshna, Paris

 

Alejandra Pizarnik (Buenos Aires, 1936-1972). Woman. Bird. Cornered rat. Wandering jew. Ju-ju witch. Siouxsie & the Banshees. Limbless butterfly. - Poet. Angel. Suicide bomber. Pussy Riot. - What did she see in Antonin Artaud's shattered eyes? The madman, the saint, the plague? Her own double like a twin shadow burning at the stake? A sunflower field in flames? - Nowadays, our Joan-of-Arcs are burnt alive in microwave ovens though. Like dolls, babies, birds, butterflies in a microwave oven, a solitary spotlight (Forget all cliches). And one way or the other, they die, while baking cakes or poisons, Russian doll candles drowning themselves in disaster, always on the verge of the abyss. Like Emily Dickinson. Like Diane Arbus, like Francesca Woodman, like Ana Cristina César, like Lucha Reyes, like Danielle Collobert & Mireille Havet . Like Billie Holiday "Lady Day"*. Like Hamlet & Jesus Christ. Like Chantal Akerman in Saute ma ville (Blow up my city), Anita Berber tearing her heart out in a German brothel after the last cabaret, Virginia Woolf in the Ouse River, her pockets filled with stones & her head overburdened with ghosts, or then Sylvia Plath in a household gas chamber, definitely disillusioned with Oz, as well as Judy Garland; Who's afraid of Baba Yaga? Lady Lazarus' eyes are way deeper than Marilyn Monroe's, anyway - The world is a firegun. Woman is the trigger of the world: "Let's blow it up, baby, it's the weekend", would say Thelma & Louise before driving over the cliff & swan-diving into the Grand Canyon, the ultimate flip off & betrayal - and what a weekend!  ...Buenos Aires, Paris, New York, Paris, Buenos Aires, Madhouse, heaven & hell. A glass jar stuffed with pills, alcohol, hells, laughters, poems, confinements, umbilical cords, ether-soaked cotton clouds on fire, eclipses, crisis, chrysalis, gardens, mental asylum grease & stench, solitaries, seesaws, dollhouses, downers & a handful of broken rhymes, yeah, Lady Day has too much rain & too much pain** - life is quite a fardeau...; a secondhand princess playing on a seesaw with her pain, picking up the scattered pieces of an unsolvable puzzle then falling out of a sequoia, a helpless cry cuddling in the arms of night, endless nights - a larva, then a toddler, then a stubborn stalker, advancing stealthily through a fast-motion holocaust in pursuit of her prey, which is none other than... herself. Or an endless sleep, a sweet slip into Nothingness. It's the weekend. Whatever happened to the cotton dress girl? "Mustn't forget to commit suicide", she wrote, like a subtly silent kamikaze caterpillar in the spinning 'vagina monologue' of her microwave-like bedroom. No butterfly would ever emerge from that cocoon again. Her last tango in Buenos Aires was a silent bomb blast, a self-induced overdose of seconal. She had at last managed to blow up her city.

 

Poem:

 

Shadow of the days to come
... For Ivonne A. Bordelois

Tomorrow
they will clothe me in ashes at dawn
They will fill my mouth with flowers
I will learn to sleep
in the memory of a wall
in the breathing
of an animal that dreams

*

Sombra de los días a venir
a Ivonne A. Bordelois

Mañana
me vestirán con cenizas al alba,
me llenarán la boca de flores.
Aprenderé a dormir
en la memoria de un muro,
en la respiración de un animal que sueña.



- text & translation by Henrik Aeshna, Paris, March 26 2012, sunrise

 

- notes:

 

* Lou Reed " Lady Day ":

"After the applause had died down, and the people drifted away
 She climbed down the bar
 And went out the door
 To the hotel
 That she called home
 It had greenish walls
 A bathroom in the hall"

 

** Frank Sinatra " Lady Day "

 

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