Recently we have found ourselves watching talks and lectures online. We have been picking films that don’t necessarily relate directly to our practice with the hope that it will open up avenues that we would have been unaware of otherwise. A talk that stood out in particular was Yann Dall’Aglio’s talk entitled ‘Love – You’re Doing it Wrong’, here Dall’Aglio speaks about the connections between people within a world in which the focus upon the individual is becoming more and more apparent. Essentially, it is a reflection upon love in the modern age; Yann starts his talk by stating, “’Love’ is the desire to be desired” and in the modern age we negotiate this desire on the stock market – or as Yann describes it – “the free market of individual desire”. One negotiates their own value within this market, thus causing a form of anxiety within the cotemporary human, an anxiety possessed by everyone as a consequence of this “desire to be desired”. Naturally (and unconsciously) we respond to this anxiety by collecting symbols of desirability – cars, phones, houses – in an attempt to make ourselves more accomplished, more desirable. We buy these (inanimate) objects to communicate with other minds; we do this to make them love us, to seduce them. Dall’Aglio calls this “Seduction Capital”, he goes on to explain that “consumerism is not materialistic, it is rather what is swallowed up and sacrificed for “love” or rather in the name of Seduction Capital”.
How can one renounce a hysterical need to be valued and therefore loved? Well, Yann believes that one will only be able to leap this barrier by becoming aware of one’s uselessness. In order to be valued one requires another to desire them, thus demonstrating that the individual possess no inherent value of their own. In short, we are all useless. One might think this as a gloomy, pessimistic conclusion to a subject as diverse as ‘love’, but fear not; a statement like this should be celebrated purely for its hints towards the idea of a collective unconscious, a collective experience, and a collective life. It asks us not to be constrained by the fact that one only thinks through their own brain, sees through their own eyes, and teaches us to be compassionate, towards the many or the few regardless of their direct relationship to you as an individual (something that is particularly relevant at the moment with the mass movement of communities over North Africa and Europe). In the Flaming Lips’ track “Do you realize??” Wayne Coyne makes a statement that rings a similar bell as Dall’Aglio’s – “do you realize that everyone you know, someday, will die”, in saying this he reminds us of our temporary nature. We are but grains of sand on a shore, and soon enough, the grains of sand will be washed away by the tide.
Yann Dall’Aglio’s talk got us thinking about the individual in 2015, has technology in our pockets blocked as many avenues as it has opened? Are we isolating (rather than connecting) ourselves, creating a society of individuals? It’s hard to say; perhaps this is a question that one will only know the answer to in hindsight, and perhaps this will be too late.
As part of the course we have an excellent opportunity to partake in seminar discussions, ‘Technologies of Romance’ is the title of one of these, it is focused on considering our current relationship to technology and narrative while searching for any manifestos of ‘romance’ or Romanticism persisting in contemporary art and culture. We started off by talking about how history does not necessarily refer to the past; one can think historically of the present - to do this is to remember that things always change; what is now wasn’t always the case, and won’t always be the case. As an example of this Paul O’Kane referred to ‘The Disappearance of Darkness’, a project by Robert Burley that investigates photography in a post-photographic age - the current state of photography. Images from this project show the fall of the giant camera factories used to process and make film, the images depict enormous warehouses so large and barren that they are reminiscent of vast concrete deserts. These factories used to be thriving centres of potential imagery, the creators of visual documentation for the masses; they were the powerhouses of technology at the time. The digital managed to topple these titans, and perhaps the ‘new-digital’ will erase the virtual fruits of the new tech-giant’s labor. Who knows? Our children (Sid and Jim Jr.) may have never heard of Samsung, Sony or Apple. Perhaps a day will come where someone utters the words “iWhat??”. >What is now won’t always be the case< so what will be the role of the individual within the ‘new digital’?
We continued to investigate this question by looking at similar technological injections that have dramatically changed the way some people live. “In Praise of Shadows” (1939) is an essay on Japanese aesthetics by Jun’ichiro Tanizaki, he writes of the necessity for shadows in life, specifically in traditional Japanese aesthetics; this can be taken literally or metaphorically and expanded out into something larger than a room. Tanizaki marvels at our “comprehension of the secrets of shadows, our sensitive use of shadow and light”, these shadows create atmospheres in which “reigns complete and utter silence […] in the darkness immutable tranquility holds sway”. Towards the end of the essay Tanizaki writes of his dislike towards the slow crawl of western inventions into Japanese culture, specifically the fluorescent light, which eradicates the shadows of life, and consequently the mystery and obscurity of the unknown. In his concluding paragraph Tanizaki admits that as an individual he is helpless to the influence of the west; there is nothing left to do expect “move bravely ahead and leave us old ones behind”, the traditions of Japanese aesthetics have been brought to their knees by the ease and effectiveness of fluorescent lighting. In an almost ‘last-wish’ fashion the essay concludes with Tanizaki asking if “perhaps we may be allowed at least one mansion where we can turn off the electric lights and see what it is like without them.”
There are however examples of the mysteries of shadow still existing, small cubicles within the world where there are things that have been pushed back into darkness, where the utter silence still remains. One of many examples of this is Hikikomori or Otaku; here the individual seeks solace within the confines of their own bedroom, its common to block out light and not have any connection with the outside world – unless maybe, digitally. It’s not entirely sure why this condition started within some people (particularly young men in a transitory period between education and the ‘working world’). Japan’s Ministry of Health, Labor and Welfare has defined Hikikomoiri as a person who does not participate in society (particularly school or work) and has no desire to do so. “Hikikomori: Adolescence without End” (1998) is a book by Saito Tamaki who was working as a therapist and noticed a recurring patterns within the Japanese youth, this book, as well as some high profile cases of Hikikomori suffers having spells of violence brought awareness to the condition. It is thought that many of the cases are caused through an obsessive interest in something; frequently this can be internet forums – as the personal computer crept into our homes, it not only allowed the world to become connected, it also offered the option for the individual to become easily disconnected if they wanted to.
When you consider the condition alongside Tanizaki’s “In Praise of Shadows” there are some interesting contrasts; Tanizaki talks extremely fondly of the mystery of shadows, the silence that lies within them, and the atmospheres and micro environments that they create. Whereas Hikikomori sufferers seek the shadow as a refuge from the outside world, it is as if they enter the silence that the shadow creates. I imagine that this is not at all what Tanizaki wanted when he asked for “at least one mansion where we can turn off all the electric lights”.
In response to this we have began working on a video probing the connections between Tanizaki’s shadow and the shadowy interior of a Hikikomori bedroom. More broadly, the video is focused upon investigating a sense of loneliness, isolation and anxiety within ‘the social network’. It currently has quite a simple format (although this may change as the work develops); the viewer is faced with a Google SketchUp model (seen below). A small room with hollow limbs stretching off into the distance, the room (or cubicle) contains a traditional Japanese tatami and four alcoves (the inside of the limbs). The video is a live recording of SketchUp with the user interacting with the 3D model with a short story narrating the film. Written in the first person, the story details someone’s experiences within the shadows that the SketchUp model facilitates – the model acting as a visual metaphor for the increased isolation that the over-connected world forces upon the individual.
