You May Clap When Moved
I know, I know. I’ve been starving you of updates from the world of performance art. By way of apology, here’s a short yet challenging piece by a gentleman named Reed Altemus, captured for posterity at the Mobius art collective’s Something Else Fest in Cambridge, Massachusetts, earlier this month. Mr Altemus, who “lives with his cat, Clyde, in Portland Maine,” describes himself as a “polyartist working in visual poetry, performance art, noise music and small press publishing.” Quizzed on the importance of his radical craft, he explains:
Traditional forms have failed us: they produce the same kinds of social situations as have ever been: we have poverty, wars, corporate imperialism, neocolonialism, racism, religious clashes of all kinds, homophobia, etc… Beethovan [sic] and Mahler have not solved the problem of violence in society; Tennyson and Poe have not given us answers to the problem of fascist dictatorships in the world. It is obvious to me that to change the world as a poet one must subvert entrenched assumptions which underlie oppressive or coercive discourses.
Yes, Mr Altemus is putting an end to war, dictatorship, violence and poverty by subverting our entrenched assumptions and oppressive discourses. See, for instance, here. He’s literally saving the world with his art. For reasons that will doubtless become clear, the following life-transforming, poverty-solving, dictator-toppling piece is called Amplifying My Clothes:
An earlier, no less dazzling performance, in which Mr Altemus spends 16 minutes wrapping an eggplant in string, can be seen – nay, beheld – here.
Now if only he would do a piece titled “pissing into the wind”.
Perhaps someone can come up with a realtime online “poverty, wars, corporate imperialism, neocolonialism, racism, religious clashes of all kinds, homophobia, and fascist dictatorships” index. if such a thing existed, I would be interested to see if it visibly dipped while the clearly non-poverty stricken Mr Altemus performed his seminal work.
Yes, Mr Altemus is putting an end to war, dictatorship, violence and poverty by subverting our entrenched assumptions and oppressive discourses.
I don’t think it’s working. Is the art switched on yet?
If acting like an eight year old playing with a mike and amp is art that’s going to save us from violence in society and fascist dictatorships, then I can’t wait for a piece demonstrating burning ants with a magnifying glass. What will that save us from, I wonder.
I don’t think it’s working. Is the art switched on yet?
Heathens, the lot of you.
Beethovan [sic] and Mahler have not solved the problem of violence in society; Tennyson and Poe have not given us answers to the problem of fascist dictatorships in the world.
Thank God he’s got his looks to fall back on.
Thank God he’s got his looks to fall back on.
It is one of the more bizarre sentences I’ve come across. It’s rather like saying, “The existence of banana-flavoured desserts has not reduced my overdraft or cured my cousin’s eczema.”
I’m starting to think that there’s a mental illness connection in all these ‘art’ pieces you are posting.
It seems that the only difference between the bearded lunatic howling on the street corner against the lizards in human form that surround them, and the kind of clowns you bring us in your ‘poets’ corner is ‘FUNDING’.
Instead of treatment they’re getting funding. It can’t end well.
Mr Altemus, who “lives with his cat, Clyde, in Portland Maine,” describes himself as a “polyartist working in visual poetry, performance art, noise music and small press publishing.”
R.D. Laing has a lot to answer for, he really does.
I don’t think it’s working. Is the art switched on yet?
That’s brilliant. I’m afraid I’m going to steal that one the next time I’m at some God-awful art exhibition (where it will almost certainly come in handy).
Mr Altemus, who “lives with his cat, Clyde, in Portland Maine,”
Hard to believe he’s single.
Traditional forms have failed us … etc.
Of course what’s painful to remember is that the kind of sentiments that Altemus expresses get full-throated support from highly respected academics and art critics.
T.J. Clark speaking at the University of Chicago on “Capitalism without Images” in 2013 is hardly unusual.
It’s almost worth listening to the first five minutes or so just to grasp how it’s not only utterly awful, but really very pedestrian and unoriginal in its concerns.
I suppose it’s too much to inquire what these “entrenched assumptions” are which he is subverting and how his, er, art is accomplishing that, not to mention how “subverting” Mahler and Tennyson will bring about the utopia he seeks.
Or is that in the second part of the art school correspondence course he’s taking?
E3’s been on, and the “art-community” will look down on the vastly superior visual talent, emotional connection, sound quality and narrative all responding in real time to the user and with zero subsidy.
I was moved. Moved to wondering about the Mobius art collective. If he’s their star…
…This stupid fat fuck thinks his art is superior to that of Mahler and Poe. And some dullwitted git in the audience applauded his self-indulgent mopery. New England sucks.
polyartist working [sic] in visual poetry, performance art, noise music
OK, right, noise music. For idiocy that ranks right up there with John Cage’s “composition” of silence music.
Or is that in the second part of the art school correspondence course he’s taking?
Careful there, asking Altemus to “Draw Winky” probably would not get the results expected. OK, probably the results expected, but not what the school asked for.
T.J. Clark speaking at the University of Chicago on “Capitalism without Images” in 2013 is hardly unusual.
I managed maybe fifteen minutes before I felt I was bleeding out. Then I turned to Wikipedia, where I learned that Mr Clark is a self-described Marxist and belongs to a San Francisco collective of self-imagined “radical intellectuals.” Apparently, “his books regard modern paintings as expressions of socio-political conditions in modern life.” Which explains the mix of pretension and deadening prose, and the sensation of having lost several pints of blood.
Forgive me, but doesn’t exploring beyond the boundaries of poetry mean…well, doing things that are not poetry?
As for the stunt with the microphone, I always wondered what a hundredweight of fermenting chips sounds like.
Mr Altemus also makes music, which, to my ear at least, is equally sophisticated and profound.
Mobius art collective: one-sided, very little depth, and entirely circular.
Not to say loopy….
I managed maybe fifteen minutes before I felt I was bleeding out.
Four minutes into the introduction “for a man who needs no introduction” and I was done. The introduction itself was a load of bollocks, as y’all say (?), but did give me the impression that this TJ Clark guy was considered someone of some gravitas, deservedly or not, in the art world. Is this not the case? Can any real artists present give us some idea of how widely he is known and possibly “respected”, even if it’s just in the Clown Quarter? The guy giving the introduction was himself quite pretentious. Not to mention the left side of his collar being flipped up. I couldn’t help but wonder if that was on purpose, and to what possible purpose? Overthinking can be contagious.
I managed maybe fifteen minutes before I felt I was bleeding out.
It’s a suitable metaphor.
And since no one else is going for that high hanging curveball…Haven’t Mr Altemus’ clothes been amplified enough by the Twinkies and Ho-Ho’s he’s obviously been stuffing himself with over the years?
Also, I’ve been starving you of updates…Pun intended? I’m guessing not. But since I was in the neighborhood…
Sorry…it was bugging me. Had to be said by someone. Now I can get on with my day sans that annoying-edgy-other-shoe-to-drop feeling.
And yet he still can’t get laid. What does it take?
And since no one else is going for that high hanging curveball…Haven’t Mr Altemus’ clothes been amplified enough by the Twinkies and Ho-Ho’s he’s obviously been stuffing himself with over the years?
OK, if you are going there, in the same vein if you look at the “music” video David posted at 13:32, you will see why Altemus has to “play” a lap steel guitar on a table.
. . . captured for posterity at the Mobius art collective’s Something Else Fest . .
Remember y’all, Mobius strippers never show their backsides.
. . . “lives with his cat, Clyde, . . .
Only one cat? Meh.
I’ll note there is a definite resemblance to someone I know who got promoted totally over his capability, who has then regularly demonstrated to everyone an ongoing practice of utterly missing the point of the moment.
Beautiful. I could listen to amplified clothes all day and still beg for more. Nothing beats the sound of cotton/polyester blend….. though 100% cotton comes close.
I could listen to amplified clothes all day and still beg for more.
If you’re getting aroused by that video, I’m going to summon the bouncers.
Judging* from the technique, that may very well have been the artist’s premiere of said work half-wrapping an eggplant in string.
*which I’d never presume to do.
I must say that when I was an art student back in the ’60s (long before going to art college was considered radical) we used to do stuff like this as a matter of routine:
http://davidthompson.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451675669e201b7c79f4c36970b-pi
Of course, we didn’t know we were saving the world then from fascism. We thought we were just playing with shapes, though frankly Mr Altemus’ effort to copy what we did as spotty teens is somewhat unimaginative.
When the gentleman amplifies near his large armpits, I have to say I did think the sound was one of sweat glands bubbling. Sorry.
“Yes, Mr Altemus is putting an end to war, dictatorship, violence and poverty”
And when did a Marxist ever do that? Marxists only ever increase them.
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Did Mr “Altemus” amplify his underwear? Sorry, I couldn’t watch the whole thing. Had to feed the stray cat in my barn. He now has a name!! Yep…Mr. Altemus.
Did Mr. “Altemus” amplify his underwear?
Thank God, no. It could have been much worse, he didn’t get naked.
How dare he appropriate the sound of primitive third world scratching?
No rythm at all with these artsy types.
A little lice and flea and dysentery would bring out that primal Yoko Ono vibe.
Now, we’re talking! Or moaning, as it were.
Performance art, or mental illness? Your call.
When a people go loopy for PC.
^ Working title: Sweden is what Tumblr would look like if it was a country.
David wrote, “Mr Altemus also makes music…”. No, David, just no. In fact I am riding the Nope-topus into the sun. Nope, no, no.
“Beethovan [sic] and Mahler have not solved the problem of violence in society”
Possibly because THAT WASN’T THEIR JOB, genius.
‘ Possibly because THAT WASN’T THEIR JOB, genius.’
That.
” describes himself as a “polyartist …”
More like a roly-poly artist.
surely you cannot be serious…. I am serious and quit calling me shirley
Also don’t miss from the same loopy group:
https://vimeo.com/130287180
Since my very first listen to Mahler 1 (Chicago Symphony under Solti) in 2005, not a single day has passed without my listening to at least one complete Mahler symphony. And every time I listen I discover something new, something innovative, something wondrously beautiful.
All that to say that the nitwittery on display here is absolutely world class.
My late father once performed in the world premiere of a John Cage work called Apartment House: 1776, commissioned by the New York Philharmonic (!) for the USA Bicentennial festivities (!!) in 1976. He loved to mock it privately but not publicly, because hey, paycheck. But he frequently told the story of the high-society millionairess who held the after-party for the performers at her Sutton Place townhouse. She greeted him at the door with an embrace and a fervent exclamation:
“Oh, Mr X. Wasn’t that…America?
For better or for worse, I guess. 🙂
BTW: at the very beginning of the above video, we can see artist Fotheringdale Galapagos just leaving the little artist’s room after completing an installation called “I wouldn’t go in there right now”…
You may clap when moved ….
What? No jazz hands?
No jazz hands, no trigger warning. Consider yourself on notice, David.
To be fair I think we should all be grateful that there’s a place where people who are obviously in mental distress can go for art therapy.
That’s what this is right?
Taken in another light it’s a bit like watching Hoarders, I can look at them and think there’s at least a few people in the world more effed-up than I am.
It’s a bit like watching Hoarders,
Heh. Yes, it’s all a bit ‘care in the community’.
Beethovan[sic] and Mahler have not solved the problem of violence in society; Tennyson and Poe have not given us answers to the problem of fascist dictatorships in the world
I wasn’t aware that they were supposed to.
I wasn’t aware that they were supposed to.
Ah, but while the great composers failed to solve all present and future shortcomings of human society, Mr Altemus will triumph. By scraping a microphone across his inner thighs. And wrapping eggplants in string.
On a slightly more serious note, it’s worth bearing in mind that Mr Altemus inhabits a social circle in which nobody takes him to one side and quietly explains to him his tragicomic lack of talent. Because the people around him, his peers and fellow artists, are presumably equally pretentious and deluded. There’s a failure of integrity, a dishonesty, that’s not only taken for granted, but vital.
Mr Altemus, who “lives with his cat, Clyde, in Portland Maine,”
Saw this on the internets somewhere, it appears to be legit:
Meow guys! Clyde here. I see my housemate, Reed, has been getting a bit of attention on the web.
For the avoidance of doubt, I am in no way associated with Reed Altemus. Plz stop Tweeting me about his ‘art’. Sometimes I cough up more artistic stuff, but I don’t call it ‘art’, LOL.
Reed is just a guy I happen to share a house with. I get him to open the odd can of food for me, but other than that we live totally seperate lives.
I did try to help him out once – you have to understand, Reed is a lonely guy and I’ve never once seen a woman come visit him. He thinks the whole “starving artist in his garret” thing should be attracting babes like catnip, but doesn’t realise that only works if you don’t look like Quasimodo’s fatter brother.
Anyway, I tried to show him how to get with females by loudly putting the moves on one of the local kitty chicas, right underneath his bedroom window so he could watch and learn.
You know what that ungrateful bastard did? He yelled at me for waking him up. Then threw a shoe at me!
My other attempts to help out by bringing him freshly caught birds and mice were also rudely rebuffed. Man, hiss that guy. I’ve seen what he eats. He has no business turning his nose up at delicious mouseys.
Anyway, I better go. He’ll be getting up soon as it’s nearly noon, and I like to poop in his muesli. Reed thinks it’s some kind of exotic organic additive….
….well, it is! ^..^
Meow you laters,
Clyde.
Steve 2–I totally believe in your Clydeness.
I could swear I posted a link to this…
http://vigilantlibertyradio.us/2015/06/15/roel-616-charles-c-w-cooke-debates-dominic-nanni/
… wherein Charles C.W. Cook finely minces Dominic Nanni, an arrogant 23-yr-old grad student (but I repeat myself) who frequently jousts with the starboard side of Twitter.
I guess it got swallowed by something. Maybe my inability to hit Post instead of Edit.
Steve, do you have a Steve blog? I need more.
I think Thomas of Virginia, who built the amplifier-in-a-videotape, is the real unsung artist here.
I could listen to amplified clothes all day and still beg for more.
Get your ears syringed, and you get to enjoy this sensation for over an hour. It’s like a private viewing, and free on the NHS.
Ah, the ex-Archbishop got booted upstairs (no, not THAT way)…
Lord Williams of Oystermouth. No comment.
“Traditional forms have failed us… Beethovan [sic] and Mahler have not solved the problem of violence in society; Tennyson and Poe have not given us answers to the problem of fascist dictatorships in the world.”
As GC observed above, solving violence was not their job. The composition of sublime life-affirming music; the writing of beautiful, uplifting poetry that people wanted to listen to and read was. The fact that the symphonies are still being heard, and the sonnets are still being read, suggests those traditional forms have been hugely successful. We are still talking about Beethoven and Tennyson; their names are well known all over the world, despite their being dead for nearly 200 years. In 200 years from now, what is the likelihood that anyone will ever have heard of Reed Altemus?
You May Clap When Moved
My bowels are clapping