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Chaino by Olaf Jens
It’s always been my dream to make a movie with a “Bongos” credit in the opening titles. “Night Tide” from 1961 has just that. An undeservedly obscure mermaid-themed horror cheapie from 1961. Helmed by experimental filmmaker Curtis Harrington, and starring the wonderful Linda Lawson and a very young and strapping Dennis Hopper. And BONGOS BY CHAINO. Fandor and Kanopy are streaming this and there’s a Blu-ray on Kino. Check it out, it’s #betterthansplash #fucksplash #dennishopper #curtisharrington #lindalawson# #chaino #bongosbychaino #fuzzydice #bongosintheback @kinolorber @kanopy @fandorfilms #nighttide
Prefiero sentir que me muero a preguntarme cómo pudo ser.
Respirar // Chaino.
Louis’ tweet today
swingin congo bird : chaino
An ephemeral, circular, and brief cultural history of repetition I prepared for a Pecha Kucha at the Glasgow School of Art Union.
I’ll begin with a very simplified idea re: Derrida, Lefebvre, Deleuze: repetition is not more of the same, but rather repetition emphasises difference. Each repetition has a different meaning or function. Consider the replayings of this recording:
Sir Harry Lauder. (Verse Chorus Verse Chorus Middle Chorus Chorus etc....)
I’m using recording to show how “’tones, rhythm, and repetition contribute to the sense of order in music which allow the ego to remain intact while dealing with the external world of sound.’ Music, in structuring sounds, stabilises the threat of sound and organizes the dynamics of audition around a set of structuring motifs.” From Shelley Trower’s Senses of Vibration and Brandon LaBelle’s Acoustic Territories.
How else does repetition relate to order and immediacy? Walter Benjamin says mechanical reproduction destroys the ‘aura’ of the art object, but perhaps repetition does the opposite: repetition creates ritualistic, harmonic, architectural, whole experiences. Film flickers 24 frames per second, video games tick and monitors refresh often at 60 hz to create a singular narrative experience.
via http://deathsperate.tumblr.com/
The GIF medium powerfully acknowledges the essential quality of repetition. GIFs as fine art. Repetitions are nested, occurring at various levels. Rather than looking at musical form, we may look at other repetitions in music which may bring some sense of social or semiotic order and stability.
Google image search for exotica album covers. Post-war threats to stabilise. Consider the replayings of this recording:
Liner notes, 1959: ‘[Chaino was] the only survivor of a lost race of people from the wilds of the jungle in a remote part of central Africa where few white men have ever been.’
Of course, sometimes the ‘exotic’ motifs are rearranged or reversed:
Lord Kitchener. But just what is it that makes repetition so different, so appealing? For Walter Benjamin, repetition (as in August Sander’s typology photographs) invites critical comparison.
But what of our response to the unconscious, ‘universal’ repetitions and images which define our everyday experience?
To address this question I’m drawing upon literature discussed in David Huron’s ‘A Psychological Approach to Musical Form: The Habituation–Fluency Theory of Repetition’ in Current Musicology vol. 96, 2013. In one study, participants were shown a Chinese character for 5 milliseconds, unidentifiable beyond a flash of light. When asked to pick Chinese characters they preferred, they showed a striking tendency towards the previously exposed ones. ‘They preferred certain Chinese characters without knowing why.’
This is an instance of habituation, adapting to stimuli. This filtering of information sends noise to the background, renders the familiar pleasurable, and makes us prefer the mirror image of ourselves.
If we expose someone consciously to two stimuli, one much more than the other, they might unexpectedly prefer the less familiar one. But after a few days they may forget and prefer the more familiar one. This preference for novelty is ‘a conscious override of an underlying preference for the familiar.’
This may be why we get bored of a song or part of a song but return to it later. The other principle of aesthetic pleasure is fluency. Fluency is the ease of understanding. We confuse the pleasure of easy understanding with its source, so expressions like ‘what sobriety conceals, alcohol reveals’ seem more true than ‘what sobriety conceals, alcohol unmasks’.
So the easier to understand (rhyme/repetition) the better you feel. Unless you consciously dislike simple understandings or get bored. So, formally, with the wrong attitude, we might dismiss and not play/replay simple music:
But at a higher level, what does this mean? We’re stuck in the habit of pleasurable repetition, stuck with the trope of awakening from false consciousness. ‘Until the capitalist social formation is finally overcome, [forms] can only be the old repackaged as new.’ From Ross Wolfe’s ‘Repetition-Compulsion: World-Historical Rhythms in Architecture’, Ross Wolfe, e-flux vol. 54, 2014.
So we might be excused for still wanting to buy Beyonce’s new collection despite knowing it was made in a sweatshop. For us consumers, it’s full of pleasurable repetition: the various statistics and risks have been assessed and the motifs form a perfect Beyonce is Beyonce is Beyonce, modernist liberation manifestos are still trending.
For Jacques Attali, we can only break this repetition through control of noisemaking, establishing a new set of codes. Utopian cartography, composition by new rules. Utopia as high art.
And through this, no doubt, some repetitions and desires will continue: our interruption must be as desirable and sexy as commercial breaks, our pornographic actors famous for their uncanny resemblances/repetitions of philosophers past, our minstrel shows the real thing.
Marcus Lyon, Bric I—Santa Teresa, Rio de Janeiro, 2008.
Source: http://www.mp3mobiles.me