On U B U W E B, you can access short Fluxus films from the 60s, such as Zen for Film by Nam June Paik, Word Movie by Paul Sharits, and Eye Blink by Yoko Ono. These are cool. Poem-cool.
Starting in the early sixties, Fluxus (which means "to flow") followed in the footsteps of the Futurist and Dada avant-gardes, going against The Establishment and promoting imposture as an aesthetic.
Fluxus valorizes the interdisciplinary, bringing together diverging sources of inspiration. Initially received as little more than an international network of pranksters, the playful artists of Fluxus were, and remain, a network of visionaries whose work aims to reconcile art with everyday life.
Like a detective, Laura watches as she works at the Vancouver Art Museum. Here’s a description of her project from rhizome.org:
NET ART NEWS February 11, 2005 — The conceit is half Blair Witch Project, half Paul Auster; ‘Laura,’ an artist working as guard at the Vancouver Art Gallery, makes art out of allowing visitors to her website to take charge of the museum’s cameras and see what she sees. ‘Sometimes I wonder whether more happens because I’m watching or whether events line themselves up for my benefit or something,’ she reflects in her first diary entry on the site, dated September 1, 2004. Every few days, something new is posted, including video clips from the day’s observations. These have slowly coalesced into a mystery of sorts, as the narrator obsesses over the interactions of the milieu’s recurring characters–a detective, a skateboarder, an odd woman. True to that initial entry’s promise, as you watch the narrator piece together the clues, you can never be sure whether something is ‘really’ going on, or whether it’s in her head. Nevertheless, all the references to Blow-up, The Conversation and other fictions in which the observer becomes the observed make one guess that Laura’s job is about to become even more interesting. . . . – Ben Davis
Have you checked out the cool new art & poetry collaborative projects at born magazine yet? Their winter issue is on their web site now. The poets featured include Michele Glazer and Bob Hicok.
Have you ever played with the typogenerator? It’s my newest place to play the procrastination game.
Here’s how it works. You type in a few words, and the computer does a Google image search based on your list and creates a digital work of art based on what it finds. I’m trying to rationalize this activity as a new step in the revision process, but I’m not completely convincing myself.
Who plays video games?
True confession time: sometimes I do get into it. I go through phases. Sometimes I play no games for months. When I do play, though, I get obsessed with a single game and play only that one. Then it fades away.
A few years ago something literary did come out of it though. I wrote a poem called “Duke Nukem.” It never got published anywhere, but I’m still fond of it.
Emily Dickinson starts one poem, “I’ll tell you how the Sun rose–/ A ribbon at a time–.” Probably for many of us, our visual perception of the world around us prevails over the other senses. At least it wouldn’t surprise me if that were true.
I wonder if anyone remembers the Noon Quilt? I’m not sure how well known it was. The project was sponsored by Trace, the online writing community located (although it’s irrelevant, really) at a university in the UK. Here’s how the Noon Quilt worked. At noon participants all over the globe wrote for one minute describing what they saw out of their windows. These observations were digitally “quilted” together and are displayed on the web site.
This project captured my imagination, and it still represents something very promising about the marriage of writing and technology, their potential to help us think and create something all together.