“…böyle bir şeyin tanığı olmak, yeni doğan bir çocuğun doğumuna tanık olmak gibi. Ne olabileceğini ve ne hissedilebileceğini daha önceden kestiremediğiniz bu müziğin yapılma anında bilmeniz gereken o müziğin büyük bir parçası olduğunuzdur.”
Bizlere biraz serbest doğaçlamadan bahseder misin? Son zamanlarda bu alanda birçok etkinlik ve dinleti düzenleniyor, müzisyenleri böylesi bir arayışa ve iletişime yönlendiren sence nedir?
Özgür doğaçlama’dan bahsetmeden önce aslında doğaçlamanın en saf haline bir dokunmamız lazım. Nasıl bir düşünce ve hisle doğdu. Çok çeşitli üsluplar var, hemen hemen hepsi de coğrafi bölgelerle bağlantılı ve ayrı havalarıyla tanınırlar. Eski dönem kayıtlarını incelediğimde bunun en başta kendini ifade etmenin en saf biçimi olduğunu görüyorum. Besteci veya müzisyen kavramlarının daha oluşmadığı bu evrende nasıl doğdu doğaçlama, bunu en iyi anlama biçimi benim içimde doğma biçimi. Ruhu serbest bırakmak. Her doğaçlamanın farklı bir üslubu, değişik bir tınısı var, yapmamız gereken, normalde yaptığımız gibi o tınıya kendimizi vermek olmalı ve an içinde ritmin veya notaların bilinen olmasının bir önemi yok, önemsenmesi gereken ruhunun yeni olduğunu bilmek. Bu doğaçlamayı algılamakta sürekli gelişmenin ve değişmenin bir adımı.
This music is Free Improvisation. Recording at Balyoz Music and Production in Istanbul, 2016
“Dolayısıyla özgür doğaçlama, her türlü kalıbı reddererek yerine insanın özünde yatan öğrenilmemiş hissi ortaya çıkarıyor.”
Özgür doğaçlama, klasik batı müziğinin temel öğeleri olan armoni, melodi ve ritmin kullanımını reddeden bir forma sahip. Bu öğelerden ayrıştığında öne çıkan müzikal dokular oluyor. Örneğin; notalar dışında enstrumanların sınırlarını zorlayarak, keşfedilmiş yeni seslerin kullanılması. Bu enstruman insan sesi de olabilir. Serbest doğaçlama kendi kuralları içerisinde sınırsız olan ve arada da türsel doğaçlamalara izin veren bir yapıya sahip. Sınırlarının olma sebebi ise doğuşundan geliyor. Müziği öğrenmenin ve anlamanın özünde enstrumana dokunmak, o enstrumanı tanımak ve o enstrumanı çalmak yatıyor. Dolayısıyla özgür doğaçlama, her türlü kalıbı reddererek yerine insanın özünde yatan öğrenilmemiş hissi ortaya çıkarıyor. Yapılan müziğin bir tekrarı yoktur ve yapılan şey anlık bestedir. Dolayısıyla böyle bir şeyin tanığı olmak, yeni doğan bir çocuğun doğumuna tanık olmak gibi. Ne olabileceğini ve ne hissedilebileceğini daha önceden kestiremediğiniz bu müziğin yapılma anında bilmeniz gereken o müziğin büyük bir parçası olduğunuzdur.
MUTRİB ‘Düzenbaz’ 2021
“Hepsiyle ayrı ayrı müzik yapmak beni besliyor ve monotonluktan çıkarıyor. Dolayısıyla bu farklı müzik tarzlarında yer almam uzun süre daha devam edeceğe benziyor.”
Çoğumuz seni Mutrib grubu ile tanıdık fakat birçok farklı projede yer alıyor, farklı müzisyenlerle değişik işler yapıyorsun; senin açından hangisi daha doyurucu?
Aslında en çok zevk aldığım doğaçlama topluluklarında yer almak; kendi adıma oluşturduğum solo projem olan “Birds String Quartet” ve “Birds Ensemble”,“Islak Köpek”,“Taranta Babu” veya daha önce karşılaşmadığım veya dinleme fırsatımın dahi olmadığı farklı tarzlarda müzik yapan müzisyenlerle keyfi doğaçlama seansları çok hoşuma gidiyor. Yeni bir yüzle karşılaşmak, yeni bir müzik ve yeni bir ruh ile bir olmak, bütün olmaya çalışmak benim için çok keyifli. En son Peter Brötzmann ve Joe McPhee ile bir prova yapma şansım oldu ve unutamayacağım bir gün olarak hayatıma kazındı diyebilirim. Mutrib raflarda beklemeye devam ediyor hala ve üzerinde düşünmeye devam ediyorum. Vokal yaptığım ve müziğin beyni olmaya devam ettiğim bir başka grup dolayısıyla burda başka bir şey deneyimliyorum ve açıkcası hala vokal olarak nasıl bir yeri kapladığımı bilmiyorum. Çıkardığımız son işlerimizden memnunum fakat artık yeni birşey yapmanın zamanı geldi gibi hissediyorum.
Bunların dışında hayatıma yeni bir ruh olarak dahil olan Halil Sezai ile çalışmaya başladık. Şimdiye kadar iki konser yaptık birlikte ve bu konserlerin ikisinde de doğaçlama çaldım. Bu anlamda Sezai ve ekibi beni oldukça rahat bırakıyor ve sahne de onların kurguladığı müziğe yeni bişiler eklemek beni mutlu ediyor. Son olarak da Melis Danişmend ve Miss Crowley var. Bu iki proje de yine yaptığım tüm projelerden farklı, özgün ve duygusal bir yapıya sahip. Açıkcası içinde olduğum tüm oluşumlar, projeler ruhumdan bir parça taşıyor. Hepsiyle ayrı ayrı müzik yapmak beni besliyor ve monotonluktan çıkarıyor. Dolayısıyla bu farklı müzik tarzlarında yer almam uzun süre daha devam edeceğe benziyor.
Miss Crowley ve Gülşah Erol (2016)
“Zenginlik dediğin nedir? Müzik aslında ne? Bir gün içinde neler yapılır. Toprağın ve doğanın hayatımızdaki yeri. Vahşi yaşamın içinde insanın yeri vs… Yani acayip bir dünya orası ve çok gerçek.”
Müziğin ruhuna inanan birisin, Afrika müzikleri gibi yerel müzikler hakkında neler düşünüyorsun? Müzik-ritüel, dans senin için ne ölçüde önemli, günümüzde bunlar ne ölçüde yaşanıyor?
Afrika’ya gitmeyi çok istiyorum ve oranın yerli kabileleriyle doğaçlamayı deneyimlemek büyük bir heyecan benim için. Çünkü her doğaçlama bir süre sonra bir transa sokuyor ve orada yaşayacağım bu trans halinin bana neler hissettireceği benim için mühim. Dinlediğim kadarıyla hissettiğim; bizim bugüne kadar kendi hayatlarımızda deneyimlediğimiz çoğu şeyin dışında daha doğal bir yaşam biçimi. Yaşam biçimi diyorum çünkü bunların bir ritüel olması bu anlama geliyor. Belirli zamanlarda yapılan törenlerdeki müzikler ve danslar dünya’ya, evrene, tabiat anaya, kendilerine, tanrılarına bir hediye gibi. Sahip oldukları herşeye duydukları bir minnet borcu gibi. Bunun içinde olabilmek mutlaka insan ruhuna özellikle bizim gibi şehirde yaşayan insanlara önemli bir takım bakış açıları sunuyor olmalı. Bunu oraya gittikten sonra tekrar sor bana. Fakat onları uzaktan da olsa hissedebildiğimi biliyorum. Bir kere içinde bulundukları fakirliğe rağmen hayatı müzik ve dansla besliyor olmaları ve enerjilerini bu yönde kullanıyor olmaları başlı başına şehir hayatının koşuşturmasına kendini kaptırmış bir çok insan için ilginç bir örnek. Çok fazla ders çıkarılır burdan. Zenginlik dediğin nedir? Müzik aslında ne? Bir gün içinde neler yapılır. Toprağın ve doğanın hayatımızdaki yeri. Vahşi yaşamın içinde insanın yeri vs… Yani acayip bir dünya orası ve çok gerçek.
Cello: Gülşah Erol, Saxophone: Korhan Futacı, Video by Osman Nuri İyem, İstanbul 2015
“Popüler olduğumu düşünmüyorum ama bilen, bilmek isteyen ve bana inananların çoğalıyor olması beni çok mutlu ediyor ve daha farklı, güzel, yeni şeyler yapmam için beni motive ediyor.“
Çello popüler bir müzik enstrumanı değil, fakat sen bir şekilde popülerliği yakaladın, bunu neye bağlıyorsun?
Çok çalışmış olmak ve sanırım zaman içinde kendimi en iyi ifade edebileceğim şeylere doğru akmayı başarabiliyor olmam. Çok insan seven ve çok paylaşmayı seven biriyim ben. Dostluk, arkadaşlık hayatımda çok büyük bir önem taşıyor ve içinde olduğum her projenin devamlılığı bununla eş değer. Kişilerle devamlı olarak bir hayatı paylaşmıyor olsam da çok kutsal bir şeyi paylaşıyor oluyorum: Müzik. Dolayısıyla iletişimin güzel olduğu yerde güzel müzik ve aşk arkasından geliyor. Müziğe aşığım, enstrumanıma aşığım. Ve beni çeken, çağıran, yakalayan güzel şeylerin içinde olmak ve niyetlerin iyi olmasının bir sebebi bu. Ben popüler olduğumu düşünmüyorum ama bilen, bilmek isteyen ve bana inananların çoğalıyor olması beni çok mutlu ediyor ve daha farklı, güzel, yeni şeyler yapmam için beni motive ediyor.
Gülşah Erol & Peter Brötzmann (2019)
Gülşah Erol ile Geçmişten Günümüze Çello | Gündem Sanat 2020
“Bir müzisyen olarak canım ne istiyorsa yapıyorum; bu da benim yaşam biçimim.”
İyi ki ellerimden tutanlar var, benim de kalbim hep onlarla açıkcası. Bazen gelen mesajlarda, sürekli farklı şeyler yapıyor olmamdan dolayı kafalarının karıştığını görüyorum, sonuçta beni izleyen, takip eden insanlar ilk dinledikleri üzerinden benimle bağlantı kuruyorlar, fakat ben devamlı olarak başka bir şeyle belirmeyi çok seviyorum sırf bu nedenle bir çok insan “yahu napıyor bu, bu ne şimdi?!” diyebiliyor ama bunun yanında duruma alışmış ve “bakalım şimdi ne yapacak!” diyen insanlar da var. Benimle yeni bir maceraya sürükleniyor ve izliyor; takdir ediyor veya etmiyor, yaşıyoruz, akıyoruz işte. Bir müzisyen olarak canım ne istiyorsa yapıyorum. Bu da benim yaşam biçimim.
Coşkun Karademir ve Gülşah Erol’dan ‘Zahid Bizi Tan Eyleme’ (2018)
Müzik piyasası hakkında neler söylemek istersin; seni rahatsız eden koşullar var mı?
Artık hiçbirşey rahatsız etmiyor. Herkes nasıl yaşamak istiyorsa, ne yapmak istiyorsa ve niyeti neyse onu elde ediyor bence. İyi kötü. Beni tek rahatsız eden Türkiye’deki müzisyenlerin ve dinleyicilerin farklı şeyleri deneyimlemek konusunda çekimser ve inkar edici olması. Çok garip ön yargılar var müziğe. Kişi dinleyemeyeceği veya çalamayacağı bir müzik duyduğunda “berbat bu ya!” diyip kenara çekiliyor. Müzik böyle yargılarla yıpratılıyor. Tabi herkes ne dinlemek istiyorsa dinlesin, çalsın vs… emeğe saygı günümüzde büyük önem teşkil ediyor çünkü kimsenin kimseye sevgiyi bıraktım, saygısı bile kalmadı. Bencil bir düzen içinde yaşıyoruz ve bunun yerine bir bütünlük arıyorsak bütün olabilmeyi ve kabul edebilmeyi öğrenmemiz gerekiyor.
Gülşah Erol, 2024
Açın Pencerelerinizi
Hayatı yaşamak sadece istediklerimizi gerçekleştirmek ve istediklerimize sahip olmak değil. Ben merkezli bir yaşamı reddediyorum, kardeşlik, dostluk ve aile kavramlarını aşırı önemsiyorum. Yardımlaşmayı, sevgi paylaşımını, saygıyla yaşayabilmeyi ve değer yargılarımızla niyetlerimizin iyi olmasını dilediğim bir dönemdeyim. Ve tabi ki bu dünya’da sadece biz yaşamıyoruz! Yaşayan her canlıyla iletişimde olabilmek ve onları görmezden gelmediğimiz günlerimiz daha çok olsun.
Bir arkadaşım aç kalbinin pencerisini demişti bana.
I can’t claim to be an authority on anything, but I can honestly say that certain matters absolutely fascinate me, and that I write about them all the time. The two basic topics which fascinate me are “What is reality?” and “What constitutes the authentic human being?” Over the twenty-seven years in which I have published novels and stories I have investigated these two interrelated topics over and over again. I consider them important topics. What are we? What is it which surrounds us, that we call the not-me, or the empirical or phenomenal world?
Philip K. Dick, 1978
First, before I begin to bore you with the usual sort of things science fiction writers say in speeches, let me bring you official greetings from Disneyland. I consider myself a spokesperson for Disneyland because I live just a few miles from it — and, as if that were not enough, I once had the honor of being interviewed there by Paris TV.
For several weeks after the interview, I was really ill and confined to bed. I think it was the whirling teacups that did it. Elizabeth Antebi, who was the producer of the film, wanted to have me whirling around in one of the giant teacups while discussing the rise of fascism with Norman Spinrad… an old friend of mine who writes excellent science fiction. We also discussed Watergate, but we did that on the deck of Captain Hook’s pirate ship. Little children wearing Mickey Mouse hats — those black hats with the ears — kept running up and bumping against us as the cameras whirred away, and Elizabeth asked unexpected questions. Norman and I, being preoccupied with tossing little children about, said some extraordinarily stupid things that day. Today, however, I will have to accept full blame for what I tell you, since none of you are wearing Mickey Mouse hats and trying to climb up on me under the impression that I am part of the rigging of a pirate ship.
Science fiction writers, I am sorry to say, really do not know anything. We can’t talk about science, because our knowledge of it is limited and unofficial, and usually our fiction is dreadful. A few years ago, no college or university would ever have considered inviting one of us to speak. We were mercifully confined to lurid pulp magazines, impressing no one. In those days, friends would say me, “But are you writing anything serious?” meaning “Are you writing anything other than science fiction?” We longed to be accepted. We yearned to be noticed. Then, suddenly, the academic world noticed us, we were invited to give speeches and appear on panels — and immediately we made idiots of ourselves. The problem is simply this: What does a science fiction writer know about? On what topic is he an authority?
Philip K Dick speech in Metz France 1977
But the problem is a real one, not a mere intellectual game. Because today we live in a society in which spurious realities are manufactured by the media, by governments, by big corporations, by religious groups, political groups — and the electronic hardware exists by which to deliver these pseudo-worlds right into the heads of the reader, the viewer, the listener.
It reminds me of a headline that appeared in a California newspaper just before I flew here. SCIENTISTS SAY THAT MICE CANNOT BE MADE TO LOOK LIKE HUMAN BEINGS. It was a federally funded research program, I suppose. Just think: Someone in this world is an authority on the topic of whether mice can or cannot put on two-tone shoes, derby hats, pinstriped shirts, and Dacron pants, and pass as humans.
Well, I will tell you what interests me, what I consider important. I can’t claim to be an authority on anything, but I can honestly say that certain matters absolutely fascinate me, and that I write about them all the time. The two basic topics which fascinate me are “What is reality?” and “What constitutes the authentic human being?” Over the twenty-seven years in which I have published novels and stories I have investigated these two interrelated topics over and over again. I consider them important topics. What are we? What is it which surrounds us, that we call the not-me, or the empirical or phenomenal world?
In 1951, when I sold my first story, I had no idea that such fundamental issues could be pursued in the science fiction field. I began to pursue them unconsciously. My first story had to do with a dog who imagined that the garbage men who came every Friday morning were stealing valuable food which the family had carefully stored away in a safe metal container. Every day, members of the family carried out paper sacks of nice ripe food, stuffed them into the metal container, shut the lid tightly — and when the container was full, these dreadful-looking creatures came and stole everything but the can.
Finally, in the story, the dog begins to imagine that someday the garbage men will eat the people in the house, as well as stealing their food. Of course, the dog is wrong about this. We all know that garbage men do not eat people. But the dog’s extrapolation was in a sense logical — given the facts at his disposal. The story was about a real dog, and I used to watch him and try to get inside his head and imagine how he saw the world. Certainly, I decided, that dog sees the world quite differently than I do, or any humans do. And then I began to think, Maybe each human being lives in a unique world, a private world, a world different from those inhabited and experienced by all other humans. And that led me wonder, If reality differs from person to person, can we speak of reality singular, or shouldn’t we really be talking about plural realities? And if there are plural realities, are some more true (more real) than others? What about the world of a schizophrenic? Maybe, it’s as real as our world. Maybe we cannot say that we are in touch with reality and he is not, but should instead say, His reality is so different from ours that he can’t explain his to us, and we can’t explain ours to him. The problem, then, is that if subjective worlds are experienced too differently, there occurs a breakdown of communication… and there is the real illness.
I once wrote a story about a man who was injured and taken to a hospital. When they began surgery on him, they discovered that he was an android, not a human, but that he did not know it. They had to break the news to him. Almost at once, Mr. Garson Poole discovered that his reality consisted of punched tape passing from reel to reel in his chest. Fascinated, he began to fill in some of the punched holes and add new ones. Immediately, his world changed. A flock of ducks flew through the room when he punched one new hole in the tape. Finally he cut the tape entirely, whereupon the world disappeared. However, it also disappeared for the other characters in the story… which makes no sense, if you think about it. Unless the other characters were figments of his punched-tape fantasy. Which I guess is what they were.
So I ask, in my writing, What is real? Because unceasingly we are bombarded with pseudo-realities manufactured by very sophisticated people using very sophisticated electronic mechanisms. I do not distrust their motives; I distrust their power.
It was always my hope, in writing novels and stories which asked the question “What is reality?”, to someday get an answer. This was the hope of most of my readers, too. Years passed. I wrote over thirty novels and over a hundred stories, and still I could not figure out what was real. One day a girl college student in Canada asked me to define reality for her, for a paper she was writing for her philosophy class. She wanted a one-sentence answer. I thought about it and finally said, “Reality is that which, when you stop believing in it, doesn’t go away.” That’s all I could come up with. That was back in 1972. Since then I haven’t been able to define reality any more lucidly.
But the problem is a real one, not a mere intellectual game. Because today we live in a society in which spurious realities are manufactured by the media, by governments, by big corporations, by religious groups, political groups — and the electronic hardware exists by which to deliver these pseudo-worlds right into the heads of the reader, the viewer, the listener. Sometimes when I watch my eleven-year-old daughter watch TV, I wonder what she is being taught. The problem of miscuing; consider that. A TV program produced for adults is viewed by a small child. Half of what is said and done in the TV drama is probably misunderstood by the child. Maybe it’s all misunderstood. And the thing is, Just how authentic is the information anyhow, even if the child correctly understood it? What is the relationship between the average TV situation comedy to reality? What about the cop shows? Cars are continually swerving out of control, crashing, and catching fire. The police are always good and they always win. Do not ignore that point: The police always win. What a lesson that is. You should not fight authority, and even if you do, you will lose. The message here is, Be passive. And — cooperate. If Officer Baretta asks you for information, give it to him, because Officer Baretta is a good man and to be trusted. He loves you, and you should love him.
I have a secret love of chaos. There should be more of it. Do not believe — and I am dead serious when I say this — do not assume that order and stability are always good, in a society or in a universe. The old, the ossified, must always give way to new life and the birth of new things.
So I ask, in my writing, What is real? Because unceasingly we are bombarded with pseudo-realities manufactured by very sophisticated people using very sophisticated electronic mechanisms. I do not distrust their motives; I distrust their power. They have a lot of it. And it is an astonishing power: that of creating whole universes, universes of the mind. I ought to know. I do the same thing. It is my job to create universes, as the basis of one novel after another. And I have to build them in such a way that they do not fall apart two days later. Or at least that is what my editors hope. However, I will reveal a secret to you: I like to build universes which do fall apart. I like to see them come unglued, and I like to see how the characters in the novels cope with this problem. I have a secret love of chaos. There should be more of it. Do not believe — and I am dead serious when I say this — do not assume that order and stability are always good, in a society or in a universe. The old, the ossified, must always give way to new life and the birth of new things. Before the new things can be born the old must perish. This is a dangerous realization, because it tells us that we must eventually part with much of what is familiar to us. And that hurts. But that is part of the script of life. Unless we can psychologically accommodate change, we ourselves begin to die, inwardly. What I am saying is that objects, customs, habits, and ways of life must perish so that the authentic human being can live. And it is the authentic human being who matters most, the viable, elastic organism which can bounce back, absorb, and deal with the new.
Of course, I would say this, because I live near Disneyland, and they are always adding new rides and destroying old ones. Disneyland is an evolving organism. For years they had the Lincoln Simulacrum, like Lincoln himself, was only a temporary form which matter and energy take and then lose. The same is true of each of us, like it or not.
The pre-Socratic Greek philosopher Parmenides taught that the only things that are real are things which never change… and the pre-Socratic Greek philosopher Heraclitus taught that everything changes. If you superimpose their two views, you get this result: Nothing is real. There is a fascinating next step to this line of thinking: Parmenides could never have existed because he grew old and died and disappeared, so, according to his own philosophy, he did not exist. And Heraclitus may have been right — let’s not forget that; so if Heraclitus was right, then Parmenides did exist, and therefore, according to Heraclitus’ philosophy, perhaps Parmenides was right, since Parmenides fulfilled the conditions, the criteria, by which Heraclitus judged things real.
I offer this merely to show that as soon as you begin to ask what is ultimately real, you right away begin talk nonsense. Zeno proved that motion was impossible (actually he only imagined that he had proved this; what he lacked was what technically is called the “theory of limits”). David Hume, the greatest skeptic of them all, once remarked that after a gathering of skeptics met to proclaim the veracity of skepticism as a philosophy, all of the members of the gathering nonetheless left by the door rather than the window. I see Hume’s point. It was all just talk. The solemn philosophers weren’t taking what they said seriously.
Fake realities will create fake humans. Or, fake humans will generate fake realities and then sell them to other humans, turning them, eventually, into forgeries of themselves. So we wind up with fake humans inventing fake realities and then peddling them to other fake humans. It is just a very large version of Disneyland.
But I consider that the matter of defining what is real — that is a serious topic, even a vital topic. And in there somewhere is the other topic, the definition of the authentic human. Because the bombardment of pseudo-realities begins to produce inauthentic humans very quickly, spurious humans — as fake as the data pressing at them from all sides. My two topics are really one topic; they unite at this point. Fake realities will create fake humans. Or, fake humans will generate fake realities and then sell them to other humans, turning them, eventually, into forgeries of themselves. So we wind up with fake humans inventing fake realities and then peddling them to other fake humans. It is just a very large version of Disneyland. You can have the Pirate Ride or the Lincoln Simulacrum or Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride — you can have all of them, but none is true.
In my writing I got so interested in fakes that I finally came up with the concept of fake fakes. For example, in Disneyland there are fake birds worked by electric motors which emit caws and shrieks as you pass by them. Suppose some night all of us sneaked into the park with real birds and substituted them for the artificial ones. Imagine the horror the Disneyland officials would feel when they discovered the cruel hoax. Real birds! And perhaps someday even real hippos and lions. Consternation. The park being cunningly transmuted from the unreal to the real, by sinister forces. For instance, suppose the Matterhorn turned into a genuine snow-covered mountain? What if the entire place, by a miracle of God’s power and wisdom, was changed, in a moment, in the blink of an eye, into something incorruptible? They would have to close down.
In Plato’s Timaeus, God does not create the universe, as does the Christian God; He simply finds it one day. It is in a state of total chaos. God sets to work to transform the chaos into order. That idea appeals to me, and I have adapted it to fit my own intellectual needs: What if our universe started out as not quite real, a sort of illusion, as the Hindu religion teaches, and God, out of love and kindness for us, is slowly transmuting it, slowly and secretly, into something real?
We would not be aware of this transformation, since we were not aware that our world was an illusion in the first place. This technically is a Gnostic idea. Gnosticism is a religion which embraced Jews, Christians, and pagans for several centuries. I have been accused of holding Gnostic ideas. I guess I do. At one time I would have been burned. But some of their ideas intrigue me. One time, when I was researching Gnosticism in the Britannica, I came across mention of a Gnostic codex called The Unreal God and the Aspects of His Nonexistent Universe, an idea which reduced me to helpless laughter. What kind of person would write about something that he knows doesn’t exist, and how can something that doesn’t exist have aspects? But then I realized that I’d been writing about these matters for over twenty-five years. I guess there is a lot of latitude in what you can say when writing about a topic that does not exist. A friend of mine once published a book called Snakes of Hawaii. A number of libraries wrote him ordering copies. Well, there are no snakes in Hawaii. All the pages of his book were blank.
The basic tool for the manipulation of reality is the manipulation of words. If you can control the meaning of words, you can control the people who must use the words. George Orwell made this clear in his novel 1984. But another way to control the minds of people is to control their perceptions. If you can get them to see the world as you do, they will think as you do. Comprehension follows perception.
Of course, in science fiction no pretense is made that the worlds described are real. This is why we call it fiction. The reader is warned in advance not to believe what he is about to read. Equally true, the visitors to Disneyland understand that Mr. Toad does not really exist and that the pirates are animated by motors and servo-assist mechanisms, relays and electronic circuits. So no deception is taking place.
And yet the strange thing is, in some way, some real way, much of what appears under the title “science fiction” is true. It may not be literally true, I suppose. We have not really been invaded by creatures from another star system, as depicted in Close Encounters of the Third Kind. The producers of that film never intended for us to believe it. Or did they?
And, more important, if they did intend to state this, is it actually true? That is the issue: not, Does the author or producer believe it, but — Is it true? Because, quite by accident, in the pursuit of a good yarn, a science fiction author or producer or scriptwriter might stumble onto the truth… and only later on realize it.
The basic tool for the manipulation of reality is the manipulation of words. If you can control the meaning of words, you can control the people who must use the words. George Orwell made this clear in his novel 1984. But another way to control the minds of people is to control their perceptions. If you can get them to see the world as you do, they will think as you do. Comprehension follows perception. How do you get them to see the reality you see? After all, it is only one reality out of many. Images are a basic constituent: pictures. This is why the power of TV to influence young minds is so staggeringly vast. Words and pictures are synchronized. The possibility of total control of the viewer exists, especially the young viewer. TV viewing is a kind of sleep-learning. An EEG of a person watching TV shows that after about half an hour the brain decides that nothing is happening, and it goes into a hypnoidal twilight state, emitting alpha waves. This is because there is such little eye motion. In addition, much of the information is graphic and therefore passes into the right hemisphere of the brain, rather than being processed by the left, where the conscious personality is located. Recent experiments indicate that much of what we see on the TV screen is received on a subliminal basis. We only imagine that we consciously see what is there. The bulk of the messages elude our attention; literally, after a few hours of TV watching, we do not know what we have seen. Our memories are spurious, like our memories of dreams; the blanks are filled in retrospectively. And falsified. We have participated unknowingly in the creation of a spurious reality, and then we have obligingly fed it to ourselves. We have colluded in our own doom.
And — and I say this as a professional fiction writer — the producers, scriptwriters, and directors who create these video/audio worlds do not know how much of their content is true. In other words, they are victims of their own product, along with us. Speaking for myself, I do not know how much of my writing is true, or which parts (if any) are true. This is a potentially lethal situation. We have fiction mimicking truth, and truth mimicking fiction. We have a dangerous overlap, a dangerous blur. And in all probability it is not deliberate. In fact, that is part of the problem. You cannot legislate an author into correctly labeling his product, like a can of pudding whose ingredients are listed on the label… you cannot compel him to declare what part is true and what isn’t if he himself does not know.
It is an eerie experience to write something into a novel, believing it is pure fiction, and to learn later on — perhaps years later — that it is true. I would like to give you an example. It is something that I do not understand. Perhaps you can come up with a theory. I can’t.
What about the world of a schizophrenic? Maybe, it’s as real as our world. Maybe we cannot say that we are in touch with reality and he is not, but should instead say, His reality is so different from ours that he can’t explain his to us, and we can’t explain ours to him. The problem, then, is that if subjective worlds are experienced too differently, there occurs a breakdown of communication… and there is the real illness.
In 1970 I wrote a novel called Flow My Tears, the Policeman Said. One of the characters is a nineteen-year-old girl named Kathy. Her husband’s name is Jack. Kathy appears to work for the criminal underground, but later, as we read deeper into the novel, we discover that actually she is working for the police. She has a relationship going on with a police inspector. The character is pure fiction. Or at least I thought it was.
Anyhow, on Christmas Day of 1970, I met a girl named Kathy — this was after I had finished the novel, you understand. She was nineteen years old. Her boyfriend was named Jack. I soon learned that Kathy was a drug dealer. I spent months trying to get her to give up dealing drugs; I kept warning her again and again that she would get caught. Then, one evening as we were entering a restaurant together, Kathy stopped short and said, “I can’t go in.” Seated in the restaurant was a police inspector whom I knew. “I have to tell you the truth,” Kathy said. “I have a relationship with him.”
Certainly, these are odd coincidences. Perhaps I have precognition. But the mystery becomes even more perplexing; the next stage totally baffles me. It has for four years.
In 1974 the novel was published by Doubleday. One afternoon I was talking to my priest — I am an Episcopalian — and I happened to mention to him an important scene near the end of the novel in which the character Felix Buckman meets a black stranger at an all-night gas station, and they begin to talk. As I described the scene in more and more detail, my priest became progressively more agitated. At last he said, “That is a scene from the Book of Acts, from the Bible! In Acts, the person who meets the black man on the road is named Philip — your name.” Father Rasch was so upset by the resemblance that he could not even locate the scene in his Bible. “Read Acts,” he instructed me. “And you’ll agree. It’s the same down to specific details.”
I went home and read the scene in Acts. Yes, Father Rasch was right; the scene in my novel was an obvious retelling of the scene in Acts… and I had never read Acts, I must admit. But again the puzzle became deeper. In Acts, the high Roman official who arrests and interrogates Saint Paul is named Felix — the same name as my character. And my character Felix Buckman is a high-ranking police general; in fact, in my novel he holds the same office as Felix in the Book of Acts: the final authority. There is a conversation in my novel which very closely resembles a conversation between Felix and Paul.
Well, I decided to try for any further resemblances. The main character in my novel is named Jason. I got an index to the Bible and looked to see if anyone named Jason appears anywhere in the Bible. I couldn’t remember any. Well, a man named Jason appears once and only once in the Bible. It is in the Book of Acts. And, as if to plague me further with coincidences, in my novel Jason is fleeing from the authorities and takes refuge in a person’s house, and in Acts the man named Jason shelters a fugitive from the law in his house — an exact inversion of the situation in my novel, as if the mysterious Spirit responsible for all this was having a sort of laugh about the whole thing.
Felix, Jason, and the meeting on the road with the black man who is a complete stranger. In Acts, the disciple Philip baptizes the black man, who then goes away rejoicing. In my novel, Felix Buckman reaches out to the black stranger for emotional support, because Felix Buckman’s sister has just died and he is falling apart psychologically. The black man stirs up Buckman’s spirits and although Buckman does not go away rejoicing, at least his tears have stopped falling. He had been flying home, weeping over the death of his sister, and had to reach out to someone, anyone, even a total stranger. It is an encounter between two strangers on the road which changes the life of one of them — both in my novel and in Acts. And one final quirk by the mysterious Spirit at work: the name Felix is the Latin word for “happy.” Which I did not know when I wrote the novel.
A careful study of my novel shows that for reasons which I cannot even begin to explain I had managed to retell several of the basic incidents from a particular book of the Bible, and even had the right names. What could explain this? That was four years ago that I discovered all this. For four years I have tried to come up with a theory and I have not. I doubt if I ever will.
But the mystery had not ended there, as I had imagined. Two months ago I was walking up to the mailbox late at night to mail off a letter, and also to enjoy the sight of Saint Joseph’s Church, which sits opposite my apartment building. I noticed a man loitering suspiciously by a parked car. It looked as if he was attempting to steal the car, or maybe something from it; as I returned from the mailbox, the man hid behind a tree. On impulse I walked up to him and asked, “Is anything the matter?”
“I’m out of gas,” the man said. “And I have no money.”
Incredibly, because I have never done this before, I got out my wallet, took all the money from it, and handed the money to him. He then shook hands with me and asked where I lived, so that he could later pay the money back. I returned to my apartment, and then I realized that the money would do him no good, since there was no gas station within walking distance. So I returned, in my car. The man had a metal gas can in the trunk of his car, and, together, we drove in my car to an all-night gas station. Soon we were standing there, two strangers, as the pump jockey filled the metal gas can. Suddenly I realized that this was the scene in my novel — the novel written eight years before. The all-night gas station was exactly as I had envisioned it in my inner eye when I wrote the scene — the glaring white light, the pump jockey — and now I saw something which I had not seen before. The stranger who I was helping was black. We drove back to his stalled car with the gas, shook hands, and then I returned to my apartment building. I never saw him again. He could not pay me back because I had not told him which of the many apartments was mine or what my name was. I was terribly shaken up by this experience. I had literally lived out a scene completely as it had appeared in my novel. Which is to say, I had lived out a sort of replica of the scene in Acts where Philip encounters the black man on the road.
What could explain all this?
The answer I have come up with may not be correct, but it is the only answer I have. It has to do with time. My theory is this: In some certain important sense, time is not real. Or perhaps it is real, but not as we experience it to be or imagine it to be. I had the acute, overwhelming certitude (and still have) that despite all the change we see, a specific permanent landscape underlies the world of change: and that this invisible underlying landscape is that of the Bible; it, specifically, is the period immediately following the death and resurrection of Christ; it is, in other words, the time period of the Book of Acts.
Parmenides would be proud of me. I have gazed at a constantly changing world and declared that underneath it lies the eternal, the unchanging, the absolutely real. but how has this come about? If the real time is circa A.D. 50, then why do we see A.D. 1978? And if we are really living in the Roman Empire, somewhere in Syria, why do we see the United States?
During the Middle Ages, a curious theory arose, which I will now present to you for what it is worth. It is the theory that the Evil One — Satan — is the “Ape of God.” That he creates spurious imitations of creation, of God’s authentic creation, and then interpolates them for that authentic creation. Does this odd theory help explain my experience? Are we to believe that we are occluded, that we are deceived, that it is not 1978 but A.D. 50… and Satan has spun a counterfeit reality to wither our faith in the return of Christ?
I can just picture myself being examined by a psychiatrist. The psychiatrist says, “What year is it?” And I reply, “A.D. 50.” The psychiatrist blinks and then asks, “And where are you?” I reply, “In Judaea.” “Where the heck is that?” the psychiatrist asks. “It’s part of the Roman Empire,” I would have to answer. “Do you know who is President?” the psychiatrist would ask, and I would answer, “The Procurator Felix.” “You’re pretty sure about this?” the psychiatrist would ask, meanwhile giving a covert signal to two very large psych techs. “Yep,” I’d replay. “Unless Felix has stepped down and had been replaced by the Procurator Festus. You see, Saint Paul was held by Felix for —” “Who told you all this?” the psychiatrist would break in, irritably, and I would reply, “The Holy Spirit.” And after that I’d be in the rubber room, inside gazing out, and knowing exactly how come I was there. Everything in that conversation would be true, in a sense, although palpably not true in another. I know perfectly well that the date is 1978 and that Jimmy Carter is President and that I live in Santa Ana, California, in the United States. I even know how to get from my apartment to Disneyland, a fact I can’t seem to forget. And surely no Disneyland existed back at the time of Saint Paul.
So, if I force myself to be very rational and reasonable, and all those other good things, I must admit that the existence of Disneyland (which I know is real) proves that we are not living in Judaea in A.D. 50. The idea of Saint Paul whirling around in the giant teacups while composing First Corinthians, as Paris TV films him with a telephoto lens — that just can’t be. Saint Paul would never go near Disneyland. Only children, tourists, and visiting Soviet high officials ever go to Disneyland. Saints do not.
But somehow that biblical material snared my unconscious and crept into my novel, and equally true, for some reason in 1978 I relived a scene which I described back in 1970. What I am saying is this: There is internal evidence in at least one of my novels that another reality, an unchanging one, exactly as Parmenides and Plato suspected, underlies the visible phenomenal world of change, and somehow, in some way, perhaps to our surprise, we can cut through to it. Or rather, a mysterious Spirit can put us in touch with it, if it wishes us to see this permanent other landscape. Time passes, thousands of years pass, but at the same instant that we see this contemporary world, the ancient world, the world of the Bible, is concealed beneath it, still there and still real. Eternally so.
TOOL – Parabola
The kosmos is not as it appears to be, and what it probably is, at its deepest level, is exactly that which the human being is at his deepest level — call it mind or soul, it is something unitary which lives and thinks, and only appears to be plural and material. Much of this view reaches us through the Logos doctrine regarding Christ.
Shall I go for broke and tell you the rest of this peculiar story? I’ll do so, having gone this far already. My novel Flow My Tears, the Policeman Said was released by Doubleday in February of 1974. The week after it was released, I had two impacted wisdom teeth removed, under sodium pentathol. Later that day I found myself in intense pain. My wife phoned the oral surgeon and he phoned a pharmacy. Half an hour later there was a knock at my door: the delivery person from the pharmacy with the pain medication. Although I was bleeding and sick and weak, I felt the need to answer the knock on the door myself. When I opened the door, I found myself facing a young woman — who wore a shining gold necklace in the center of which was a gleaming gold fish. For some reason I was hypnotized by the gleaming golden fish; I forgot my pain, forgot the medication, forgot why the girl was there. I just kept staring at the fish sign.
“What does that mean?” I asked her.
The girl touched the glimmering golden fish with her hand and said, “This is a sign worn by the early Christians.” She then gave me the package of medication.
In that instant, as I stared at the gleaming fish sign and heard her words, I suddenly experienced what I later learned is called anamnesis — a Greek word meaning, literally, “loss of forgetfulness.” I remembered who I was and where I was. In an instant, in the twinkling of an eye, it all came back to me. And not only could I remember it but I could see it. The girl was a secret Christian and so was I. We lived in fear of detection by the Romans. We had to communicate with cryptic signs. She had just told me all this, and it was true.
For a short time, as hard as this is to believe or explain, I saw fading into view the black prison-like contours of hateful Rome. But, of much more importance, I remembered Jesus, who had just recently been with us, and had gone temporarily away, and would very soon return. My emotion was one of joy. We were secretly preparing to welcome Him back. It would not be long. And the Romans did not know. They thought He was dead, forever dead. That was our great secret, our joyous knowledge. Despite all appearances, Christ was going to return, and our delight and anticipation was boundless.
Isn’t it odd that this strange event, this recovery of lost memory, occurred only a week after Flow My Tears was released? And it is Flow My Tears which contains the replication of people and events from the Book of Acts, which is set at the precise moment in time — just after Jesus’ death and resurrection — that I remembered, by means of the golden fish sign, as having just taken place?
If you were me, and had this happen to you, I’m sure you wouldn’t be able to leave it alone. You would seek a theory that would account for it. For over four years now, I have been trying one theory after another: circular time, frozen time, timeless time, what is called “sacred” as contrasted to “mundane” time… I can’t count the theories I’ve tried out. One constant has prevailed, though, throughout all theories. There must indeed be a mysterious Holy Spirit which has an exact and intimate relation to Christ, which can indwell in human minds, guide and inform them, and even express itself through those humans, even without their awareness.
In the writing of Flow My Tears, back in 1970, there was one unusual event which I realized at the time was not ordinary, was not a part of the regular writing process. I had a dream one night, an especially vivid dream. And when I awoke I found myself under the compulsion — the absolute necessity — of getting the dream into the text of the novel precisely as I had dreamed it. In getting the dream exactly right, I had to do eleven drafts of the final part of the manuscript, until I was satisfied.
I will now quote from the novel, as it appeared in the final, published form. See if this dream reminds you of anything.
The countryside, brown and dry, in summer, where he had lived as a child. He rode a horse, and approaching him on his left a squad of horses nearing slowly. On the horses rode men in shining robes, each a different color; each wore a pointed helmet that sparkled in the sunlight. The slow, solemn knights passed him and as they traveled by he made out the face of one: an ancient marble face, a terribly old man with rippling cascades of white beard. What a strong nose he had. What noble features. So tired, so serious, so far beyond ordinary men. Evidently he was a king. Felix Buckman let them pass; he did not speak to them and they said nothing to him. Together, they all moved toward the house from which he had come. A man had sealed himself up inside the house, a man alone, Jason Taverner, in the silence and darkness, without windows, by himself from now on into eternity. Sitting, merely existing, inert. Felix Buckman continued on, out into the open countryside. And then he heard from behind him one dreadful single shriek. They had killed Taverner, and seeing them enter, sensing them in the shadows around him, knowing what they intended to do with him, Taverner had shrieked. Within himself Felix Buckman felt absolute and utter desolate grief. But in the dream he did not go back nor look back. There was nothing that could be done. No one could have stopped the posse of varicolored men in robes; they could not have been said no to. Anyhow, it was over. Taverner was dead.
This passage probably does not suggest any particular thing to you, except a law posse exacting judgment on someone either guilty or considered guilty. It is not clear whether Taverner has in fact committed some crime or is merely believed to have committed some crime. I had the impression that he was guilty, but that it was a tragedy that he had to be killed, a terribly sad tragedy. In the novel, this dream causes Felix Buckman to begin to cry, and therefore he seeks out the black man at the all-night gas station.
Months after the novel was published, I found the section in the Bible to which this dream refers. It is Daniel, 7:9:
Thrones were set in place and one ancient in years took his seat. His robe was white as snow and the hair of his head like cleanest wool. Flames of fire were his throne and its wheels blazing fire; a flowing river of fire streamed out before him. Thousands upon thousands served him and myriads upon myriads attended his presence. The court sat, and the book was opened.
The white-haired old man appears again in Revelation, 1:13:
I saw… one like a son of man, robed down to his feet, with a golden girdle round his breast. The hair of his head was white as snow-white wool, and his eyes flamed like fire; his feet gleamed like burnished brass refined in a furnace, and his voice was like the sound of rushing waters.
And then 1:17:
When I saw him, I fell at his feet as though dead. But he laid his right hand upon me and said, “Do not be afraid. I am the first and the last, and I am the living one, for I was dead and now I am alive for evermore, and I hold the keys of Death and Death’s domain. Write down therefore what you have seen, what is now, and what will be hereafter.”
And, like John of Patmos, I faithfully wrote down what I saw and put in my novel. And it was true, although at the time I did not know who was meant by this description:
…he made out the face of one: an ancient marble face, a terribly old man with rippling cascades of white beard. What a strong nose he had. What noble features. So tired, so serious, so far beyond ordinary men. Evidently he was a king.
Indeed he was a king. He is Christ Himself returned, to pass judgment. And this is what he does in my novel: He passes judgment on the man sealed up in darkness. The man sealed up in darkness must be the Prince of Evil, the Force of Darkness. Call it whatever you wish, its time had come. It was judged and condemned. Felix Buckman could weep at the sadness of it, but he knew that the verdict could not be disputed. And so he rode on, without turning or looking back, hearing only the shriek of fear and defeat: the cry of evil destroyed.
So my novel contained material from other parts of the Bible, as well as the sections from Acts. Deciphered, my novel tells a quite different story from the surface story (which we need not go into here). The real story is simply this: the return of Christ, now king rather than suffering servant. Judge rather than victim of unfair judgment. Everything is reversed. The core message of my novel, without my knowing it, was a warning to the powerful: You will shortly be judged and condemned. Who, specifically, did it refer to? Well, I can’t really say; or rather would prefer not to say. I have no certain knowledge, only an intuition. And that is not enough to go on, so I will keep my thoughts to myself. But you might ask yourselves what political events took place in this country between February 1974 and August 1974. Ask yourself who was judged and condemned, and fell like a flaming star into ruin and disgrace. The most powerful man in the world. And I feel as sorry for him now as I did when I dreamed that dream. “That poor poor man,” I said once to my wife, with tears in my eyes. “Shut up in the darkness, playing the piano in the night to himself, alone and afraid, knowing what’s to come.” For God’s sake, let us forgive him, finally. But what was done to him and all his men — “all the President’s men,” as it’s put — had to be done. But it is over, and he should be let out into the sunlight again; no creature, no person, should be shut up in darkness forever, in fear. It is not humane.
Just about the time that Supreme Court was ruling that the Nixon tapes had to be turned over to the special prosecutor, I was eating at a Chinese restaurant in Yorba Linda, the town in California where Nixon went to school — where he grew up, worked at a grocery store, where there is a park named after him, and of course the Nixon house, simple clapboard and all that. In my fortune cookie, I got the following fortune:
DEEDS DONE IN SECRET HAVE A WAY OF BECOMING FOUND OUT.
I mailed the slip of paper to the White House, mentioning that the Chinese restaurant was located within a mile of Nixon’s original house, and I said, “I think a mistake has been made; by accident I got Mr. Nixon’s fortune. Does he have mine?” The White House did not answer.
Well, as I said earlier, an author of a work supposed fiction might write the truth and not know it. To quote Xenophanes, another pre-Socratic: Even if a man should chance to speak the most complete truth, yet he himself does not know it; all things are wrapped in appearances (Fragment 34). And Heraclitus added to this: The nature of things is in the habit of concealing itself (Fragment 54). W. S. Gilbert, of Gilbert and Sullivan, put it: “Things are seldom what they seem; skim milk masquerades as cream.” The point of all that is that we cannot trust our senses and probably not even our a priori reasoning. As to our senses, I understand that people who have been blind from birth and are suddenly given sight are amazed to discover that objects appear to get smaller and smaller as they get farther away. Logically, there is no reason for this. We, of course, have come to accept this, because we are used to it. We see objects get smaller, but we know that in actuality they remain the same size. So even the common everyday pragmatic person utilizes a certain amount of sophisticated discounting of what his eyes and ears tell him.
Little of what Heraclitus wrote has survived, and what we do have is obscure, but Fragment 54 is lucid and important: Latent structure is master of obvious structure. This means that Heraclitus believed that a veil lay over the true landscape. He also may have suspected that time was somehow not what it seemed, because in Fragment 52 he said: Time is a child at play, playing draughts; a child’s is the kingdom. This is indeed cryptic. But he also said, in Fragment 18: “If one does not expect it, one will not find out the unexpected; it is not to be tracked down and no path leads us to it.” Edward Hussey, in his scholarly book The Pre-Socratics, says:
If Heraclitus is to be so insistent on the lack of understanding shown by most men, it would seem only reasonable that he should offer further instructions for penetrating to the truth. The talk of riddle-guessing suggests that some kind of revelation, beyond human control, is necessary… The true wisdom, as has been seen, is closely associated with God, which suggests further that in advancing wisdom a man becomes like, or a part of, God.
This quote is not from a religious book or a book on theology; it is an analysis of the earliest philosophers by a Lecturer in Ancient Philosophy at the University of Oxford. Hussey makes it clear that to these early philosophers there was no distinction between philosophy and religion. The first great quantum leap in Greek theology was by Xenophanes of Colophon, born in the mid-sixth century B.C. Xenophanes, without resorting to any authority except that of his own mind, says:
One god there is, in no way like mortal creatures either in bodily form or in the thought of his mind. The whole of him sees, the whole of him thinks, the whole of him hears. He stays always motionless in the same place; it is not fitting that he should move about now this way, now that.
This is a subtle and advanced concept of God, evidently without precedent among the Greek thinkers. The arguments of Parmenides seemed to show that all reality must indeed be a mind, Hussey writes, or an object of thought in a mind. Regarding Heraclitus specifically, he says, In Heraclitus it is difficult to tell how far the designs in God’s mind are distinguished from the execution in the world, or indeed how far God’s mind is distinguished from the world. The further leap by Anaxagoras has always fascinated me. Anaxagoras had been driven to a theory of the microstructure of matter which made it, to some extent, mysterious to human reason. Anaxagoras believed that everything was determined by Mind. These were not childish thinkers, nor primitives. They debated serious issues and studied one another’s views with deft insight. It was not until the time of Aristotle that their views got reduced to what we can neatly — but wrongly — classify as crude. The summation of much pre-Socratic theology and philosophy can be stated as follows: The kosmos is not as it appears to be, and what it probably is, at its deepest level, is exactly that which the human being is at his deepest level — call it mind or soul, it is something unitary which lives and thinks, and only appears to be plural and material. Much of this view reaches us through the Logos doctrine regarding Christ. The Logos was both that which thought, and the thing which it thought: thinker and thought together. The universe, then, is thinker and thought, and since we are part of it, we as humans are, in the final analysis, thoughts of and thinkers of those thoughts.
Thus if God thinks about Rome circa A.D. 50, then Rome circa A.D. 50 is. The universe is not a windup clock and God the hand that winds it. The universe is not a battery-powered watch and God the battery. Spinoza believed that the universe is the body of God extensive in space. But long before Spinoza — two thousand years before him — Xenophanes had said, Effortlessly, he wields all things by the thought of his mind (Fragment 25).
If any of you have read my novel Ubik, you know that the mysterious entity or mind or force called Ubik starts out as a series of cheap and vulgar commercials and winds up saying:
I am Ubik. Before the universe was I am. I made the suns. I made the worlds. I created the lives and the places they inhabit; I move them here, I put them there. They go as I say, they do as I tell them. I am the word and my name is never spoken, the name which no one knows. I am called Ubik, but that is not my name. I am. I shall always be.
It is obvious from this who and what Ubik is; it specifically says that it is the word, which is to say, the Logos. In the German translation, there is one of the most wonderful lapses of correct understanding that I have ever come across; God help us if the man who translated my novel Ubik into German were to do a translation from the koine Greek into German of the New Testament. He did all right until he got to the sentence “I am the word.” That puzzled him. What can the author mean by that? he must have asked himself, obviously never having come across the Logos doctrine. So he did as good a job of translation as possible. In the German edition, the Absolute Entity which made the suns, made the worlds, created the lives and the places they inhabit, says of itself:
I am the brand name.
Had he translated the Gospel according to Saint John, I suppose it would have come out as:
When all things began, the brand name already was. The brand name dwelt with God, and what God was, the brand name was.
It would seem that I not only bring you greetings from Disneyland but from Mortimer Snerd. Such is the fate of an author who hoped to include theological themes in his writing. “The brand name, then, was with God at the beginning, and through him all things came to be; no single thing was created without him.” So it goes with noble ambitions. Let’s hope God has a sense of humor.
Or should I say, Let’s hope the brand name has a sense of humor.
As I said to you earlier, my two preoccupations in my writing are “What is reality?” and “What is the authentic human?” I’m sure you can see by now that I have not been able to answer the first question. I have an abiding intuition that somehow the world of the Bible is a literally real but veiled landscape, never changing, hidden from our sight, but available to us by revelation. That is all I can come up with — a mixture of mystical experience, reasoning, and faith. I would like to say something about the traits of the authentic human, though; in this quest I have had more plausible answers.
Philip K. Dick Interviewed by his Son Christopher age 7 (1981)
I watch the children watching TV and at first I am afraid of what they are being taught, and then I realize, They can’t be corrupted or destroyed. They watch, they listen, they understand, and, then, where and when it is necessary, they reject.
The authentic human being is one of us who instinctively knows what he should not do, and, in addition, he will balk at doing it. He will refuse to do it, even if this brings down dread consequences to him and to those whom he loves. This, to me, is the ultimately heroic trait of ordinary people; they say no to the tyrant and they calmly take the consequences of this resistance. Their deeds may be small, and almost always unnoticed, unmarked by history. Their names are not remembered, nor did these authentic humans expect their names to be remembered. I see their authenticity in an odd way: not in their willingness to perform great heroic deeds but in their quiet refusals. In essence, they cannot be compelled to be what they are not.
The power of spurious realities battering at us today — these deliberately manufactured fakes never penetrate to the heart of true human beings. I watch the children watching TV and at first I am afraid of what they are being taught, and then I realize, They can’t be corrupted or destroyed. They watch, they listen, they understand, and, then, where and when it is necessary, they reject. There is something enormously powerful in a child’s ability to withstand the fraudulent. A child has the clearest eye, the steadiest hand. The hucksters, the promoters, are appealing for the allegiance of these small people in vain. True, the cereal companies may be able to market huge quantities of junk breakfasts; the hamburger and hot dog chains may sell endless numbers of unreal fast-food items to the children, but the deep heart beats firmly, unreached and unreasoned with. A child of today can detect a lie quicker than the wisest adult of two decades ago. When I want to know what is true, I ask my children. They do not ask me; I turn to them.
One day while my son Christopher, who is four, was playing in front of me and his mother, we two adults began discussing the figure of Jesus in the Synoptic Gospels. Christopher turned toward us for an instant and said, “I am a fisherman. I fish for fish.” He was playing with a metal lantern which someone had given me, which I had never used… and suddenly I realized that the lantern was shaped like a fish. I wonder what thoughts were being placed in my little boy’s soul at that moment — and not placed there by cereal merchants or candy peddlers. “I am a fisherman. I fish for fish.” Christopher, at four, had found the sign I did not find until I was forty-five years old.
Time is speeding up. And to what end? Maybe we were told that two thousand years ago. Or maybe it wasn’t really that long ago; maybe it is a delusion that so much time has passed. Maybe it was a week ago, or even earlier today. Perhaps time is not only speeding up; perhaps, in addition, it is going to end.
And if it does, the rides at Disneyland are never going to be the same again. Because when time ends, the birds and hippos and lions and deer at Disneyland will no longer be simulations, and, for the first time, a real bird will sing.
Il est sans doute difficile de dire quand commence exactement le graphzine et quel est le premier objet à mériter cette appellation. Mais, même si rien ne naît de rien, avec Bazooka (principalement animé par Kiki et Loulou Picasso, Olivia Clavel, Lulu Larsen, Bernard Vidal, Ti5 Dur, Jean Rouzaud) et, peu de temps après, avec ESDS (Pascal Doury et Bruno Richard), quelque chose de nouveau a surgi, irréductible à la bande dessinée, à l’illustration, au dessin de presse, à la peinture, etc. Ils ont défriché un nouveau territoire, « une nouvelle conception de l’intervention plastique, questionnant à la fois l’histoire intime, le journalisme et le formalisme plastique de la page » (Alin Avila). Rétrospectivement, ils apparaissent comme les deux sources fondamentales de ce qui allait foisonner de manière polymorphe à partir des années 1980 sous le nom de graphzine.
Ce qui permet par exemple à Frédéric de Broutelles d’affirmer : « Je pense que [le graphzine] a toujours existé. Il y a longtemps que des artistes créent avec les moyens du bord. Il y a tellement de définitions du graphzine sur Internet. Selon moi, un graphzine peut contenir du texte. Il y a de telles différences dans les moyens mis en oeuvre, de la simple photocopie à la gravure. Parfois l’intérêt du contenu prédomine sur la forme. Par exemple, un tract en photocopie peut devenir un objet fabuleux. Certains graphzines étaient impressionnants par leur qualité. Tout procédé d’impression peut présenter un intérêt, qu’il soit noble ou non : linogravure, gravure sur bois, photocopie, sérigraphie, tampon, pochoir… »
Si le graphzine a d’une certaine manière toujours existé, il n’en reste pas moins que Broutelles a contribué parmi d’autres à faire émerger cette notion et ce mot par sa pratique d’éditeur, en créant l’APAAR en 1985 avec Louis Bothorel et Brigitte Lefèvre, en lien jusqu’en 1990 avec l’Atelier (de sérigraphie), lui-même fondé en 1974 par Jack Pesant et Éric Seydoux (un ancien de l’Atelier populaire de l’École des Beaux-Arts en mai 1968). L’APAAR (Association Pour Adultes Avec Réserves, clin d’oeil à l’appréciation de l’Office catholique sur certains programmes dans Télé 7 jours) a publié des affiches et ouvrages en sérigraphie ou en offset avec la crème internationale de l’underground et de jeunes artistes en devenir, notamment Robert Crumb, Gilbert Shelton, Willem, Gary Panter, Mark Beyer, Charles Burns, Savage Pencil, Marc Caro, Bruno Richard, Pascal Doury, Ti5 Dur, Olivia Clavel, Placid, Muzo, Pyon, Lagautrière, Pakito Bolino, Hervé di Rosa, Toffe, Gerbaud, Zorin, Mirka, Pierre La Police, Y5/P5, etc. L’ouvrage collectif Croquemitaine, Spécial Squelette (1985), tout en sérigraphie et à la qualité de fabrication remarquable, est une pièce emblématique de l’APAAR, et plus généralement du graphzine sérigraphié.
Aussi novateur soit-il, le groupe Bazooka s’est nourri d’influences diverses, ainsi que le souligne Kiki Picasso, défenseur du pillage radical : la culture des Beaux-Arts où ses membres étaient étudiants (allant de l’art conceptuel à Veličković, en passant par le constructivisme, le suprématisme ou Paul Klee…), celle de leurs pères respectifs (photographe pour lui-même, peintre pour Olivia Clavel, chauffeur de taxi pour Bernard Vidal, etc.) ; sans oublier les librairies spécialisées, le rock, la bande dessinée, Pilote, Métal Hurlant, Fluide Glacial, Tintin, Walt Disney, « la propagande chinoise et l’esthétique gauchiste fusionn[ant] tout à coup avec l’histoire de la peinture », la culture underground américaine, les premiers Zap Comix et les premiers Corben, les livres de science-fiction, les vieux journaux (Marie-Claire, Paris Match, Life, Stern), etc. « C’était une explosion sensorielle très forte », déclare-t-il.
L’obscur Office national des Inégalités a passé commande à Kiki et Loulou Picasso d’un travail d’investigation graphique sur les images et les messages diffusés par les médias occidentaux. Les deux artistes qui s’étaient volontairement fait oublier pendant quelques années, remettent leur génie à l’ouvrage. Un ouvrage pour la jeunesse, si tant est quelle existe dans notre vieux monde.
Willem, avec son oeil d’aigle, a tout de suite remarqué à l’époque, dans sa « Revue de presse » pour Charlie Hebdo, qu’il se passait quelque chose de nouveau. Les trois premiers numéros de Bazooka Production ne lui ont pas échappé. En janvier 1975, il signalait le numéro 1, Bazooka, comme « un nouveau journal de BD […] totalement différent des journaux connus », bien parti selon lui pour être le « meilleur » de l’année. En avril, il revenait à la charge : « Il y a trois mois j’écrivais qu’il serait étonnant si 1975 verrait [sic] des nouveaux journaux de BD meilleurs que Bazooka. Et voilà c’est fait. Le journal s’appelle LOUKHOUM BRETON […] [qui] est d’ailleurs le 2e n° de Bazooka, qui change de nom à chaque numéro, une façon de rester neuf. » Un an plus tard, pour le troisième, Activité sexuelle : Normale, Willem enfonçait le clou : « Connaître BAZOOKA c’est économiser : après, vous n’achèterez jamais plus le paquet de bandes dessinées à la con que vous lisiez d’habitude. » On ne saurait mieux dire… Et ce n’est pas tout, puisque Willem n’est pas non plus passé à côté du premier numéro d’ESDS, en janvier 1977 : « Le dessin le plus neuf de cette année se trouve dans le journal le plus neuf : ELLES SONT DE SORTIE […], journal entièrement fait à la main, mais il n’est pas marqué qui a fait quoi, donc je ne peux pas vous dire qui est ce dessinateur. Voyez vous-même. »
Bazooka collective, Legerement Destroy episode of L’oeil du cyclone
En schématisant, on peut avancer que Bazooka, dès 1974-1975, a le premier défriché le territoire sur lequel allaient éclore les graphzines, en brisant les conventions narratives de la bande dessinée par le rapprochement ambigu d’images et de textes. Et qu’ESDS en a sans doute inventé à partir de 1977 les formes qui allaient se révéler à la longue être les plus influentes pour de nombreux graphzineurs. « Si Bazooka – écrit Sylvie Philippon en 1986 – s’est donné comme mission d’exorciser l’art par voie de presse, la stratégie graphique d’Elles Sont De Sortie est tout autre. Le groupe travaille discrètement, les images sont plus intimes, mais pas moins subversives. Au réalisme de l’actualité parodiée, détournée de Bazooka s’opposent la démarche autobiographique, le contenu psychologique d’Elles Sont De Sortie. Leurs images parlent essentiellement de sexe, de violence des corps, de leur vie respective. Un plaisir arrogant, viscéral les inonde, une énergie et une facilité à dessiner les parcourent. » Là où Sylvie Philippon parle d’opposition, il serait en réalité plus exact d’évoquer une différence, n’empêchant aucunement la complémentarité, certains artistes des deux groupes ayant en effet souvent collaboré à des publications communes.
Les membres de Bazooka ont fait des ouvrages autoproduits à petit tirage et en marge du système éditorial dominant, notamment leurs premières publications remarquées par Willem, qui peuvent être considérées a posteriori comme des graphzines, le terme s’étant imposé après coup. Mais ce qui différencie les Bazooka d’Elles Sont De Sortie et de tout autre groupe ou individu faisant des graphzines après eux, c’est leur ambition proclamée et finalement réalisée avec un brio incomparable d’intervenir avec leurs images sur le plus de supports possibles, circulant à grande échelle, y compris ceux de la grande presse, afin de les parasiter de l’intérieur. Tel fut le cas, en particulier, dans Libération, à partir de 1977, d’abord en dynamitant la maquette du quotidien par leurs interventions qui firent souvent scandale au sein de la rédaction, avant de se voir offrir, l’année suivante, un supplément mensuel purement graphique, Un regard moderne, dont les six numéros (en comptant Un regard sur le monde) sont désormais cultes aux yeux des amateurs. Ce qui fait dire à Bruno Richard : « La force de Bazooka était médiatique… Putain ! Comment Libération donnait carte blanche à des gens comme ça ?!… Je ne sais pas qui a eu cette idée chez Libération, mais il est fort !… » La série Un regard moderne peut ainsi apparaître comme une manifestation remarquable du monde du graphzine en train de naître, ayant inspiré celui-ci de manière durable, sans pour autant constituer à proprement parler un graphzine, du moins selon la notion courante impliquant une démarche d’autoproduction à tirage plutôt restreint et en marge du système éditorial dominant.
En octobre 1983, Philippe Lemaire soulignait déjà dans le mensuel BàT (#58) la double influence de Bazooka et d’ESDS sur la nouvelle vague graphique qui émergeait alors. « Ce “territoire” a été défriché à la fin des années 70 par un groupe aujourd’hui éclaté dont on commence à mesurer l’impact : Bazooka Production. Ses peintres/ graphistes/dessinateurs ont apporté aux aspirations diffuses des créateurs d’images de leur génération un discours structuré empruntant abondamment à la “langue de bois” des idéologues pour provoquer plus efficacement. Sept ans après avoir expérimenté la “dictature graphique” dans les colonnes de Libération première formule, Kiki Picasso prône toujours “l’occupation des médias, la surveillance de l’art pour promouvoir les travaux de qualité, le renversement des littéraires essoufflés qui accaparent le pouvoir intellectuel”. Plastiquement, Bazooka a su également secouer les classicismes ambiants en utilisant systématiquement des procédés iconoclastes : la récupération d’images déjà diffusées (photos de presse), la combinaison de toutes les techniques disponibles, de la peinture à l’huile jusqu’à la photocopie, l’usage de couleurs décalées par rapport à la réalité, etc. » Quant à ESDS, « l’autre groupe/courant considéré comme novateur ces dernières années, le duo Bruno Richard-Pascal Doury», le journaliste précise, dans ce même article : « Leurs images sont marginalisées dans la mesure où ils refusent d’en vivre (l’un est directeur artistique dans une grande agence de pub, l’autre maquettiste à Libération et tous deux peignent à leurs heures de “loisir”). De plus, leurs thèmes favoris illustreraient difficilement un message commercial : ils dérivent entre la “relecture” d’images pornographiques et la construction de fresques visionnaires où abondent les souvenirs et les références à l’enfance. Parfois, leurs deux styles se mêlent dans de véritables compositions collectives. »
Placid (Jean-François Duval), qui participa avec Muzo (Jean-Philippe Masson) à l’effervescence du graphzine dès le début des années 1980, et qui est un éminent collectionneur et connaisseur de ces publications, a lui aussi été marqué par Bazooka et Elles Sont De Sortie. « J’ai rencontré Muzo – m’a-t-il confié – aux cours du soir des Beaux-Arts de Caen lorsque nous étions lycéens. Nous nous sommes parlés parce que nous aimions bien la bande dessinée, Charlie Mensuel, L’Écho des Savanes, Francis Masse et tout ça. C’était aussi le début de Métal Hurlant. J’allais à La Licorne, une librairie de Caen un peu contestataire avec un étage spécialisé en bande dessinée. On y voyait arriver tout ce qui sortait, même les choses assez pointues. Un jour, en allant voir si le dernier Métal Hurlant était arrivé, je suis tombé sur Activité sexuelle : Normale, le premier zine de Bazooka que j’ai lu. C’était en 1976, j’avais quinze ans et j’ai été très impressionné. Bazooka, c’était un style nouveau, inattendu. Ça m’a un peu choqué. Pas tant l’imagerie sexuelle ou pédophile que le traitement graphique. Par exemple, il y a une image de Kiki Picasso avec une jeune fille en uniforme qui joue de la flûte, et un fil va de sa flûte à ses yeux. Cela produisit immédiatement sur moi un étrange effet répulsif. Mais quelques semaines plus tard, ça ne me choquait plus, j’étais entré dedans. Très vite, j’ai vu leurs interventions dans Charlie Mensuel, dans Métal Hurlant, puis dans Libération. Je me suis même rendu aux archives de ce quotidien, bien avant de m’installer à Paris en 1981 en tant qu’étudiant aux Arts Déco, pour fouiller et acheter tous les numéros où il y avait du Bazooka, afin de les découper et de les conserver. Peu de temps après, j’ai vu aussi les premiers zines d’Elles Sont De Sortie dans cette même librairie, La Licorne. Je me suis un peu calmé maintenant, mais à l’époque je dépensais les sous que je n’avais pas pour acheter toutes ces choses imprimées… J’ai trouvé leur boulot, aux uns et aux autres, très fort. J’étais particulièrement impressionné par celui de Bruno Richard, qui a alors beaucoup influencé mon style graphique. D’ailleurs, nombreux sont ceux qui ont imité Bruno Richard dans leurs premiers graphzines !… Sans Bazooka et Elles Sont De Sortie, nous n’aurions 25sans doute pas pris les pseudonymes de Placid et Muzo pour créer à l’âge de vingt ans une publication modeste imprimée en photocopie que nous déposions en quelques exemplaires dans des lieux de vente parisiens. Aux Arts Déco où j’étais étudiant, j’ai pu faire des couvertures dans l’atelier de sérigraphie. Nous invitions d’autres dessinateurs et avons publié huit numéros, qui ont circulé dans ce réseau nommé un peu plus tard “graphzine”, le mot n’existant pas encore au tout début des années 1980. »
Je pourrais multiplier indéfiniment les témoignages des graphzineurs à propos de l’importance de Bazooka et d’ESDS. Finissons sur ce point avec Dominique Leblanc, qui a vécu le phénomène depuis Strasbourg (Peltex #1 date de décembre 1981) et apporte un éclairage intéressant. Tout en reconnaissant la puissance de rayonnement du premier groupe, il la relativise quelque peu au profit du second et d’une multitude de tentatives souvent passionnantes elles aussi, bien que davantage restées dans l’ombre : « L’invention du graphzine date d’avant Bazooka. Même dans les années 60, il y avait beaucoup de revues hippies/situationnistes. Bazooka, phénomène très parisien et néo-punk, a attiré la lumière. En outre, Bazooka avait certes la quintessence de l’esprit graphzine – c’est-à-dire un mélange dadaïste de dessins hétérogènes et de textes, des typographies percutantes, un discours arty, etc. –, mais ils avaient aussi la grosse artillerie des imprimeries du journal Libération derrière eux, ça aide ! Un regard moderne, c’est une fabrication industrielle, et leurs planches dans divers magazines aussi… Je ne dirais pas que c’est un produit marketing, mais certains l’ont vu et pensé comme tel, notamment ceux qui l’ont financé. Ce n’est pas une critique, je suis un fan absolu de Ti5 Dur. Plus généralement, autant j’apprécie Bazooka, autant je regrette que dans la plupart des livres traitant du sujet des revues graphiques ce groupe soit surreprésenté, et que l’histoire s’arrête à eux au détriment des autres revues. Alors que quand j’ai commencé, dans les années 80, Bazooka était déjà une histoire terminée… Emblématique, certes, mais ESDS a eu un rôle bien plus important dans le phénomène des graphzines, sans oublier les sérigraphes de ZUT Production (Bruno Charpentier & Bruno Bocahut : Dusex), et encore Y5/P5, Francis Desvois (0+0 = la Tête à Toto), Pakito Bolino, Jocelin (Amtramdram), Didier Moulinier (LPDA – La Poire d’Angoisse, Tuyau), Sébastien Morlighem (S2 L’art), El Rotringo (Sortez la chienne !), Krabs, j’en passe… Le repère, le phare, c’est toutefois Bruno Richard s’il en fallait un, et dieu sait que l’histoire de l’art le traite mal !!… » S’il est difficile de nier que Bazooka et ESDS inaugurent par diverses voies l’aventure du graphzine, il serait dommage que le premier groupe apparaisse, par l’entremise des historiens patentés de l’art et autres commissaires, comme l’arbre qui cache la luxuriante forêt des graphzines.
Précisément, qu’est-ce qui a émergé au milieu des années 1970, que l’on appelle désormais graphzine, et qui se perpétue aujourd’hui encore sous différentes formes ? D’où viennent le charme singulier et l’aura paradoxale de ces objets graphiques à fonds perdus, selon la formule de Toffe ? Pour esquisser une réponse à ces questions, il importe de saisir quelques enjeux, historiques et conceptuels, du graphzine. À cet effet, je me suis appuyé autant que possible sur des propos de ses praticiens, inédits ou peu accessibles. Seule une approche polyphonique conférant une dimension chorale à ce livre pouvait en atténuer le caractère nécessairement partiel.
Le Dernier Cri fête ses 25 ans- Formula Bula 2018. Quoi de mieux que de fêter Le Dernier Cri sans images! Juste un bon gros son un peu crade! Le casque est chaudement recommandé pour écouter cette interview de Pakito Bolino par Jean-Pierre Dionnet. Enregistré à la galerie Arts Factory le samedi 22 septembre 2018.
Ce texte est un court extrait du livre de Xavier-Gilles Néret : Graphzine Graphzone, coédité par Le Dernier Cri et les Éditions du Sandre en 2019. Ce livre, achevé pour l’essentiel en janvier 2016, était dédié à Jacques Noël (1946-2016), qui en fut le premier lecteur.
Depuis, c’est quasi comme dans la chanson : le monde est une vraie porcherie, sauf que les porcs se comportent comme des hommes, de l’élevage en batterie à des milliers de tonnes de morts !
Thomas BERNARD / Fluide Glacial
Si j’écris aujourd’hui, c’est que je ne peux plus fermer ma gueule. Mais comme nul ne prête l’oreille à un bougre qui couine, je préfère étaler ma douleur sur ce papier, qu’au moins mes parents me lisent et me viennent en aide… Pa’, Ma’, me voilà victime d’une terrible malédiction ; je vois des gros cochons à tous les groins de rue ! Tout ça parce que j’ai ânonné trois fois ce nom damné devant un pot de rillettes… Bathori ! Bathori ! Bathori ! Depuis, c’est quasi comme dans la chanson : le monde est une vraie porcherie, sauf que les porcs se comportent comme des hommes, de l’élevage en batterie à des milliers de tonnes de morts !
Si on ne lui fait pas d’offrandes via paypal ou si on ne l’adjure pas sur facebook, inutile d’interviewer Martes Bathori ; ce scélérat répond aux questions uniquement par des bobards. Mieux vaut alors compulser son vieux wikipedia pour connaître l’effroyable vérité : bien que d’apparence séduisante et d’un maintien plein de dignité, il serait l’esprit le plus dissolu et crapuleux que la France n’est jamais connu. Descendant d’une célèbre comtesse sanglante, Martes serait le premier de sa lignée a avoir troqué sa manivelle intestinale et sa poire d’étouffement pour des instruments de tortures bien plus vicieux : la peinture, la sculpture, la céramique et bien-sûr, la bande-dessinée !
La légende raconte que, alors minot, révulsé par la visite scolaire d’un élevage intensif de gorets, il jura de venger le monde animal de la tyrannie prédatrice de l’Homme. Dès lors, son génie machiavélique se mît au service d’une satire anti-spéciste où la chair à saucisse prend le pouvoir et dont le nihilisme rigolard confirme l’adage : « Si tout est bon dans le cochon et bien dans l’humanité, tout est à jeter ! »
Bathori 2020
Comme pour réussir une terrine, Bathori mixe dans son art les meilleurs morceaux de la pop culture; science fiction vintage (La Ferme des Animaux, La Planète des Singes, L’Île du Dr Moreau), l’érotisme sadique de l’Ero Guro et l’expressionnisme teuton d’un Otto Dix boosté aux ecstas. Ses doigts fourchus maîtrisent toutes les techniques que le démon Halouf met à sa disposition et ses synapses irriguées par la sauce gribiche font de lui le pape du récit en jus de boudin.
Ce n’est pas pour rien si un culte lui est rendu dans les milieux interlopes de l’underground international ; tous les amoureux de l’art le vénèrent. Mais, ses fidèles, trop flemmards pour lui bâtir un autel, préfèrent encore lui acheter un de ses livres 100 % very bad tripes (Les Requins Marteaux, The Hoochie Coochie) ou une œuvre licencieuse dans une galerie de basse extractions.
Since then, it’s been almost like the song says: the world is a pigsty, except that pigs behave like humans, from battery farming to thousands of tons of death!
Thomas BERNARD / Fluide Glacial
If I’m writing today, it’s because I can’t keep my mouth shut. But as no one lends an ear to a squealing bugger, I prefer to spread my pain on this paper, so that at least my parents will read me and come to my aid… Pa’, Ma’, here I am, the victim of a terrible curse; I see fat pigs at every street corner! All because I muttered that damned name three times in front of a jar of rillettes… Bathori! Bathori! Bathori! Since then, it’s been almost like the song says: the world is a pigsty, except that pigs behave like humans, from battery farming to thousands of tons of death!
If you don’t make offerings to him via paypal or adjure him on facebook, there’s no point in interviewing Martes Bathori; this scoundrel only answers questions with lies. It’s best to consult his old wikipedia to find out the dreadful truth: despite his attractive appearance and dignified bearing, he’s the most dissolute and villainous mind France has ever known. A descendant of a famous bloody countess, Martes is said to be the first in his line to have traded in his intestinal crank and choking bulb for far more vicious instruments of torture: painting, sculpture, ceramics and, of course, comics!
Legend has it that when he was a young boy, disgusted by a school visit to an intensive pig farm, he swore to avenge the animal world from the predatory tyranny of Man. From then on, his Machiavellian genius was at the service of an anti-speciesist satire in which sausage meat takes power, and whose laughing nihilism confirms the adage: “If everything is good in the pig and good in humanity, everything is to be thrown away!”
Revivez l’échange avec Martes Bathori, auteur de BD. 2021
As if he were making a successful terrine, Bathori’s art mixes the best bits of pop culture; vintage science fiction (Animal Farm, Planet of the Apes, Island of Dr Moreau), the sadistic eroticism of Ero Guro and the Teutonic expressionism of an ecstasy-boosted Otto Dix. His forked fingers master all the techniques that the demon Halouf puts at his disposal, and his synapses irrigated by gribiche sauce make him the pope of storytelling in juice.
It’s not for nothing that he’s worshipped in international underground circles; he’s revered by all art lovers. But his followers, too lazy to build him an altar, still prefer to buy one of his 100% very bad tripe books (Les Requins Marteaux, The Hoochie Coochie) or a licentious work in a low-grade gallery.
La Friche Belle de Mai, Marseille (Machine sérigraphique)
« Oui, graphzines et fanzines, il s’agit de deux mondes différents, même si, de près, ils se ressemblent, et même s’il y a eu quelques convergences, des graphistes illustrant dans des zines de musique (Hello Happy Taxpayers, au hasard) par exemple. Mais ce ne sont pas les mêmes acteurs ni les mêmes centres d’intérêt. » -Peltex
“Le graphzine n’est pas un genre de fanzine, c’est autre chose.” -Xavier-Gilles Néret
Voir par exemple Teal Triggs, Fanzines, La révolution du DIY, Pyramyd, 2010. Il est significatif que cet ouvrage consacré aux fanzines n’évoque à aucun moment la notion de graphzine, pas plus que les principaux artistes et collectifs liés à ce mouvement – à l’exception de Gary Panter, réduit cependant au statut de « dessinateur humoristique » ayant participé à des fanzines punks. Si Teal Triggs utilise parfois le terme d’artzine, c’est seulement au sens d’un simple genre de fanzine parmi d’autres (musiczines, comiczines, modzines, queerzines, perzines, e-zines, etc.) : « les artzines se sont développés au Royaume-Uni avec l’essor des YBA (Young British Artists) et analysent la scène artistique expérimentale tout en offrant une vitrine à des oeuvres DIY », écrit-elle avant de citer une poignée d’exemples issus pour la plupart des années 2000. L’un des enjeux du présent essai est de soutenir que la notion de graphzine telle qu’elle s’est explicitement formulée en France dès les années 1980 est bien plus riche que celle d’artzine, entendu comme fanzine portant sur telle ou telle scène artistique. Ainsi que le souligne Dominique Leblanc (Peltex), qui chroniqua une multitude de graphzines et de fanzines dans La Langouste en 1987-1989 : « Oui, graphzines et fanzines, il s’agit de deux mondes différents, même si, de près, ils se ressemblent, et même s’il y a eu quelques convergences, des graphistes illustrant dans des zines de musique (Hello Happy Taxpayers, au hasard) par exemple. Mais ce ne sont pas les mêmes acteurs ni les mêmes centres d’intérêt. » Le graphzine n’est pas un genre de fanzine, c’est autre chose.
« La différence est majeure – affirme par exemple Blex Bolex. Le fanzine s’inscrit dans une logique d’amateurisme éclairé d’un genre, le graphzine dans celui d’une maîtrise technique, en plus de prétendre être un événement (éditorial au moins) en soi. D’une certaine façon, le graphzine prétend (même si ce n’est qu’une prétention parfois peu avérée) être unique, même si et même grâce au fait qu’il existe en plusieurs exemplaires. […] Le graphzine est de l’ordre de la performance déclarée dans sa production, autant que le fanzine peut l’être dans la qualité (discutable ou non) de son propos. Le graphzine peut se passer de tout propos, le fanzine, non. Le fanzine est “fan” de quelque chose, le graphzine est “fan” de lui-même avant toute chose – théoriquement du moins. Le graphzine est un genre : on peut imaginer des fanzines qui parlent de graphzines (et il en existe), l’inverse n’existe pas. » (Chemin Papier, L’illustration et ses marges, Le Signe Éditions, 2018, sous la direction de Vincent Tuset-Anrès.) Ainsi, La Langouste, déjà évoquée, et Le Retour des Zôzos (18 numéros entre 1989 et 1996, édités par Franck Garcia) sont des fanzines qui traitent de fanzines et de graphzines.
Marie Bourgoin est documentaliste à la Fanzinothèque depuis sa création en 1989.
“Graphzine isn’t a kind of fanzine, it’s something else.”
GRAPHZINE IS UNCLASSIFIABLE
See, for example, Teal Triggs, Fanzines, La révolution du DIY, Pyramyd, 2010. Significantly, this book on fanzines never mentions the notion of graphzine, nor the main artists and collectives associated with this movement – with the exception of Gary Panter, who is reduced to the status of a “cartoonist” who participated in punk fanzines. If Teal Triggs sometimes uses the term artzine, it’s only in the sense of a simple fanzine genre among others (musiczines, comiczines, modzines, queerzines, perzines, e-zines, etc.). ): “artzines developed in the UK with the rise of the YBAs (Young British Artists), analyzing the experimental art scene while providing a showcase for DIY works”, she writes, before citing a handful of examples, mostly from the 2000s. One of the challenges of this essay is to argue that the notion of graphzine, as it was explicitly formulated in France in the 1980s, is far richer than that of artzine, understood as a fanzine focusing on a particular art scene. As Dominique Leblanc (Peltex), who reviewed a multitude of graphzines and fanzines in La Langouste in 1987-1989, points out: “Yes, graphzines and fanzines are two different worlds, even if they look very similar up close, and even if there have been a few convergences, with graphic designers illustrating music zines (Hello Happy Taxpayers, by chance), for example. But they’re not the same players, nor do they have the same interests.” Graphzine isn’t a kind of fanzine, it’s something else.
“Boo-Hooray is dedicated to the organization, stabilization, and preservation of 20th and 21st century cultural movements, specializing in ephemera, photography, and book arts.”
“There’s a major difference – says Blex Bolex, for example. The fanzine is part of a logic of enlightened amateurism of a genre, the graphzine of technical mastery, in addition to claiming to be an event (editorial at least) in itself. In a certain way, the graphzine claims (even if it’s only a claim that’s sometimes unproven) to be unique, even if and even thanks to the fact that it exists in several copies. […] The graphzine is of the order of a declared performance in its production, as much as the fanzine can be in the quality (debatable or not) of its content. The graphzine can dispense with any purpose, the fanzine cannot. The fanzine is a “fan” of something, the graphzine is a “fan” of itself above all else – theoretically, at least. The graphzine is a genre: you can imagine fanzines that talk about graphzines (and there are some), but the opposite doesn’t exist.” (Chemin Papier, L’illustration et ses marges, Le Signe Éditions, 2018, p. 61, edited by Vincent Tuset-Anrès.) Thus, La Langouste, already mentioned, and Le Retour des Zôzos (18 issues between 1989 and 1996, edited by Franck Garcia) are fanzines that deal with fanzines and graphzines.
catalogue Rumeur d’Images, Berlin, 1986…
LE GRAPHZINE EST INASSIGNABLE
« Les vieux fanzines étaient laids, grisous, mal fichus. Grâce aux nouvelles photocopieuses les graphzines sont noirs, durs et élégants. / Les années 80 se veulent vidéo, clips et électroniques, et pourtant les journaux envahissent les librairies spécialisées. […] Une boulimie de papier s’est emparée des jeunes graphistes. Objets luxueux ou petites feuilles anthracite, les graphzines sont beaux et peaufinés. Fini les fanzines militants chiants tirés sur une ronéo pourrie. Fini la bonne parole. Place à l’expression, vive les images sales. »
C’est ainsi qu’André Igwal introduisit en 1984 dans l’éphémère magazine Zoulou ce terme alors inédit dans les médias de masse, graphzine – ou grafzine, gravezine, selon les différentes orthographes de l’époque –, pour rendre compte avec enthousiasme de ce qu’il appelait la nouvelle vague graphzine et contribuer à sa diffusion.
Qu’est-ce qu’un graphzine ? Que désigne ce mot-valise, contraction de graphisme et de magazine, qui a commencé à être employé en France dans les années 1980 pour qualifier des objets hétéroclites apparus lors de la décennie précédente, et qui a fini par s’imposer non seulement chez ceux qui les font ou les collectionnent, mais aussi à un niveau institutionnel ? Lise Fauchereau, de la Bibliothèque nationale de France, institution qui tâche de les collecter depuis 1995 dans son département des Estampes et de la photographie et en conserve à ce jour près d’un millier, en propose la définition suivante : « Le graphzine est un livre graphique sans texte, réalisé le plus souvent en photocopie, en sérigraphie ou en offset. Il est façonné à la main, en atelier, dans le salon ou sur la table de cuisine, ce qui explique souvent son faible tirage et son prix peu élevé. » Étant de surcroît rarement paginé, régulièrement dépourvu de mention d’auteur et d’édition, et n’ayant en général pas d’ISBN, le graphzine se soustrait à l’obligation de dépôt légal et se révèle particulièrement atypique pour les bibliothécaires soucieux des nomenclatures permettant de cataloguer et de conserver les ouvrages.
Il est en réalité difficile de parler de graphzine au singulier, tant ce phénomène, du fait de sa vitalité, est polymorphe et échappe ainsi à toute tentative de définition stricte en vue d’une classification institutionnelle. Celle proposée par Lise Fauchereau a le mérite de la clarté et de la généralité, mais c’est aussi sa limite : trop générale, elle ne permet pas de penser la variété de la chose en question, et encore moins ses enjeux. Elle est en outre fort discutable, un graphzine n’étant pas nécessairement un livre graphique sans texte, sauf à vouloir en exclure, par exemple, la plupart des numéros d’Elles Sont De Sortie (ESDS), d’Amtramdram ou les premières livraisons d’Hôpital Brut, au Dernier Cri, et, en définitive, une multitude d’ouvrages aux expérimentations graphiques singulières, ce qui appauvrirait beaucoup cette notion et en diminuerait l’intérêt.
Le graphzine diffère du fanzine, zine de fan informant le lecteur sur un domaine de prédilection : la science-fiction – dès les années 1930 aux États-Unis –, la bande dessinée, le polar, un groupe de rock, le cinéma de genre, quelque cause que ce soit, etc. Comme son nom le laisse entendre, le graphzine est, quant à lui, principalement graphique. Raison pour laquelle il peut être sans texte, et il l’est souvent. Mais ce n’est qu’une possibilité, parce qu’un texte n’est pas seulement un instrument de communication de messages ou d’informations. Comme le savent bien les poètes, Stéphane Mallarmé en tête, un texte a une dimension sonore et visuelle. Dans un graphzine digne de ce nom, les textes éventuels, de différentes longueurs, sont graphiquement intégrés aux images, ou interagissent avec elles, au point de faire eux-mêmes image, par leur dimension calli/typographique. Il n’y a pas de règles préétablies en ce domaine. Chaque artiste peut inventer, à condition qu’il en ait la puissance, ses propres formes.
Lulu Larsen, Kiki et Loulou Picasso, Bernard Vidal
L’étrange rendez-vous: Jacques Noël, Un regard moderne (Documentary)
Parce que les graphzines échappent, par leur vitalité et leur caractère polymorphe, à toute classification institutionnelle, et plus généralement à toute tentative d’assignation à quelque place que ce soit, seule une caractérisation elle-même polymorphe peut en rendre compte avec pertinence. L’une des plus belles et suggestives est peut-être à cet égard celle que proposait Toffe dès 1986 dans un texte du catalogue Rumeur d’Images, Avant-gardes graphiques en France, publié à l’occasion d’une exposition collective à Berlin-Est. Ce texte, dû à un praticien historique du graphzine, co-éditeur à l’époque avec Philippe Gerbaud d’Au sec ! Suprême d’images, formule avec humour et dans une typographie déjantée qui fleure bon les années 1980 une caractérisation ouverte du graphzine (dont le texte n’est pas a priori exclu, puisqu’il écrit « Texte Peu »).
Avec le recul du temps, cette page, parodiant les manifestes des premières avant-gardes, en particulier Dada, sonne on ne peut plus juste. Par son ouverture d’esprit, elle est pertinente pour caractériser des publications très diverses, allant de celles de Bazooka et d’ESDS, dès la seconde moitié des années 1970, à celles de Nazi Knife, créé en 2006, en passant par une ribambelle d’ouvrages, comme ceux de l’APAAR ou du Dernier Cri.
Xavier-Gilles Néret ‘Graphzine-Graphzone’ 2019
Ce texte est un court extrait du livre de Xavier-Gilles Néret : Graphzine Graphzone, coédité par Le Dernier Cri et les Éditions du Sandre en 2019. Ce livre, achevé pour l’essentiel en janvier 2016, était dédié à Jacques Noël (1946-2016), qui en fut le premier lecteur.
Infection Graphique fondée par par Pakito Bolino en 1993, Le Dernier Cri est une institution de l’édition underground marseillaise. LDC vomit des livres sérigraphiés, spécialisé dans l’image, le graphisme, la bande dessinée, ainsi que des films, des périodiques, des expositions, et divers tirés-à-part de luxe.
Fredox, Mondo Dernier Cri Une Internationale sérigrafike, affiche exposition Friche La Belle De Mai, 2019
S’il s’agit pour les terroristes graphiques du Dernier Cri de détruire le monde- ou, précise Bolino, de le « nettoyer » -, c’est bien pour en inventer un autre, selon la règle d’écart absolu énoncée par Charles Fourier, et faire exister les êtres et les choses dans un nouvel horizon.
Xavier-Gilles Néret
(LE MONDE LIBERTAIRE N° 1819 – ÉTÉ 2020)
Le Musée international des arts modestes, à Sète, présente, du 8 février au 20 septembre 2020, une foisonnante exposition des œuvres du Dernier Cri et de sérigraphes internationaux avec lesquels il constitue un véritable réseau de résistance à l’ordre graphique dominant. Bonne occasion de présenter cette aventure exemplaire.
Le Dernier Cri, créé par Caroline Sury et Pakito Bolino, se consacre depuis 1993 à la production et à la diffusion de travaux imprimés d’artistes du milieu underground français et international. Grâce à la réalisation frénétique d’un nombre considérable de livres d’artistes sérigraphiés, d’affiches, de recueils collectifs, de films d’animation et de disques, il perpétue depuis près de trente ans, en la renouvelant, la « nouvelle vague graphzine » initiée dans la seconde moitié des années 1970 par les groupes Bazooka et Elles sont de sortie.
Pakito Bolino nous parle de l’exposition du Dernier Cri à la librairie & galerie HumuS, “Vomir des yeux”
“I’m not an artist, I’m a terrorist…”
Since 1993, Le Dernier Cri, founded by Pakito Bolino, has been dedicated to the production and distribution of printed works by artists from the French and international underground. Thanks to the frenetic production of a considerable number of screen-printed artists’ books, posters, collective collections, animated films and records, it has been perpetuating and renewing the “new graphzine wave” initiated in the second half of the 1970s by the groups Bazooka and Elles sont de sortie.
Fredox, Mondo Dernier Cri Une Internationale sérigrafike, affiche exposition MI AM, 2020
Un lieu de liberté pour la création
De prestigieuses institutions, la Bibliothèque nationale de France en tête, commencent à se rendre compte qu’une telle aventure éditoriale undergraphique, comme aime à dire Bolino, est littéralement extraordinaire, alors même que Le Dernier Cri constitue une alternative à l’art et à l’édition institutionnels. « Moi, affirme Bolino, je ne suis pas un artiste, je suis un terroriste, ça n’a rien à voir !… » Il exprime ainsi sa défiance radicale vis-à-vis de l’art institutionnel, dont il juge les instances de validation arbitraires, et responsables d’une déplorable domestication de l’art. Il peut donc, avec son humour mordant, comparer Le Dernier Cri à un « bunker, d’où tout part de tous les endroits pour entraîner les terroristes graphiques à détruire le monde ! … »
C’est en découvrant durant l’hiver 1991-1992 le lieu où vivait et travaillait Henriette Valium à Montréal, à la fois atelier de sérigraphie et studio d’enregistrement, que Bolino a commencé à former son dessein de créer en France une telle base permettant d’œuvrer en toute indépendance, ce qu’il fit d’abord dans un squat en région parisienne, au CAES (Centre autonome d’expérimentation sociale) de Ris-Orangis, de 1993 à 1995, puis à Marseille, à la Friche la Belle de Mai, où est installé son atelier depuis fin 1995. « Je me suis rendu compte, explique-t-il, que ce qui était important, c’ était d’avoir un lieu, un espace de liberté pour la création. Quand tu as ça, tu sais que tu peux dire à quelqu’un, qu’il soit japonais, canadien, danois, mexicain ou français : viens, on fait un disque, on fait un livre, on fait quelque chose. On n’est pas là à monter des dossiers pour avoir des subventions ou je ne sais pas quoi. Tu fais les choses au moment où tu as envie de les faire, avec qui tu veux. C’est ça, pour moi, faire de l’art. Dès que tu es enfoncé dans les institutions, il y a l’autocensure, si tu ne veux pas te griller, parce qu’il y a toujours des petits chefs partout. Moi je ne veux pas de petits chefs ! … » En bon libertaire, il n’aime pas le mot « directeur », et préfère, sourire aux lèvres, se dire « dictateur » artistique du Dernier Cri, avant d’ajouter : « être son propre esclave, c’est quand même mieux que d’être l’esclave d’autres personnes ! … »
“Le dernier cri”, c’est à la fois un mouvement pictural alternatif et une maison d’édition qui a publié plus de 400 livres
‘A bunker, from which everything leaves to train graphic terrorists to destroy the world!’
Prestigious institutions, led by the Bibliothèque nationale de France, are beginning to realize that such an undergraphic publishing adventure, as Bolino likes to say, is literally extraordinary, even though Le Dernier Cri represents an alternative to institutional art and publishing. I’m not an artist,” says Bolino, “I’m a terrorist, and that’s got nothing to do with it! He thus expresses his radical defiance of institutional art, whose validation bodies he deems arbitrary, and responsible for a deplorable domestication of art. With his biting sense of humor, he compares Le Dernier Cri to a “bunker, from which everything leaves from all directions, to train graphic terrorists to destroy the world!
In the winter of 1991-1992, Bolino discovered Henriette Valium’s home in Montreal, a silk-screen workshop and recording studio, and began to form the idea of creating a similar independent base in France, This he did first in a squat near Paris, at the CAES (Centre autonome d’expérimentation sociale) in Ris-Orangis, from 1993 to 1995, then in Marseille, at the Friche la Belle de Mai, where his studio has been located since late 1995. I realized,” he explains, “that what was important was to have a place, a space of freedom for creation. When you have that, you know you can say to someone, whether they’re Japanese, Canadian, Danish, Mexican or French: come on, we’re making a record, we’re making a book, we’re making something. We’re not here to put together applications for grants or whatever. You do things when you want to do them, with whoever you want. For me, that’s what making art is all about. As soon as you’re embedded in institutions, there’s self-censorship, if you don’t want to get burnt out, because there are always little bosses everywhere. I don’t want to be bossed around! A good libertarian, he doesn’t like the word “director”, and prefers, with a smile on his lips, to call himself the artistic “dictator” of Dernier Cri, before adding: “being your own slave is better than being the slave of others!
Animation paréidolique par Mattt Konture et Janko pour le film Mondo DC / production Le Dernier Cri
S’il s’agit pour les terroristes graphiques du Dernier Cri de détruire le monde- ou, précise Bolino, de le « nettoyer » -, c’est bien pour en inventer un autre, selon la règle d’écart absolu énoncée par Charles Fourier, et faire exister les êtres et les choses dans un nouvel horizon.
La haine de toutes les formes de censure constitue le dénominateur commun des artistes publiés par Bolino. Fredox, « Président » de l’ association du Dernier Cri depuis 2000, et auteur, entre autres, des Dossiers noirs de l’histoire (2005), ne cesse de le répéter : « En ce moment on est en plein dans l’autocensure et il n’y a rien de pire. Ne pas jouer le jeu de l’autocensure et faire du forcing un peu exprès, c’est une façon de dire :il ne faut pas rentrer là-dedans … » L’exceptionnelle audace du Dernier Cri est d’éditer, sans concessions pour la moraline ambiante et ses suffocantes pesanteurs, des artistes moralement et esthétiquement « impubliables », en raison de dessins trop « bruts » ou trop « sales » selon les normes du « bon goût », hantés de surcroît par Éros et Thanatos. Reconnaissance éternelle au Dernier Cri d’avoir publié – s’il ne fallait prendre qu’un exemple emblématique – le génial Stu Mead, dernier grand nympholepte de la peinture, après Bellmer, Balthus et Darger.
Stu Mead ‘Krampussy’ 2008
If the graphic terrorists of Dernier Cri are intent on destroying the world – or, as Bolino puts it, “cleaning it up” – they are doing so in order to invent a new one, in accordance with Charles Fourier’s rule of absolute distance, and bring beings and things into existence on a new horizon.
Hatred of all forms of censorship is the common denominator of the artists published by Bolino. Fredox, “President” of the Dernier Cri association since 2000, and author of, among other works, Dossiers noirs de l’histoire (2005), keeps repeating: “Right now, we’re in the middle of self-censorship, and there’s nothing worse. Not playing the game of self-censorship and forcing the issue on purpose is a way of saying: don’t go into that…”. Dernier Cri’s exceptional audacity is to publish artists who are morally and aesthetically “unpublishable”, because their drawings are too “raw” or too “dirty” according to the standards of “good taste”, and who are haunted by Eros and Thanatos. Dernier Cri is eternally grateful for having published – if only one emblematic example had to be taken – the brilliant Stu Mead, painting’s last great nymphologist, after Bellmer, Balthus and Darger.
La Friche, c’est un lieu infini, les gens s’y croisent, les projets s’entremêlent, les idées éclosent, les évènements foisonnent…
Synthèse du DIY punk et des Arts & Crafts
Plutôt que d’attendre ou solliciter la reconnaissance du monde de l’art, Bolino a choisi de « faire par lui-même », sans en demander l’autorisation. C’est aussi pourquoi il ne s’est pas inscrit dans une « logique de valorisation de l’ original ». Car l’original, à ses yeux, c’est d’abord le multiple, l’imprimé : les livres et les affiches, en vue desquels les dessins originels ne sont que de simples moyens. Pour qui cherche à produire et à diffuser son travail sans passer par les instances dominantes (galeries, musées, éditeurs et leurs « petits chefs »), l’imprimé autoproduit constitue une manière efficace et rapide de « faire exister les choses quand elles se font ». Tel est l’un des principaux enjeux du graphzine, dont Bolino fit l’expérience, dès la seconde moitié des années 1980, avec l’APAAR et l’Atelier, où il se forma aux différentes techniques de sérigraphie avec Frédéric de Broutelles. Désormais, avec Le Dernier Cri, il « continue à défoncer le clou », selon ses propres mots, en accueillant à son tour des stagiaires auxquels il transmet ses savoir-faire, tel un maître-artisan des guildes du Moyen Âge. L’atelier de la Friche opère une singulière synthèse entre le DIY punk et l’esprit des Arts & Crafts pratiqués par William Morris au XIXe siècle : pour Bolino comme pour Morris, la finalité de l’art est le plaisir suscité par la mise en œuvre créatrice des facultés humaines, tant chez le producteur que chez le récepteur.
Dans le cadre d’une culture de l’autonomie, le choix de la sérigraphie est d’abord stratégique. Ce procédé permet de produire soi-même un ouvrage en petite série, de sa conception à sa distribution en passant par toutes les étapes de sa réalisation, et de décider d’un prix de vente accessible à un large public, suffisant pour financer la matière première – papiers et encres – des livres suivants. L’art, selon Bolino, ne saurait être réservé à une minorité bourgeoise de collectionneurs – même si le destin commercial d’un livre épuisé échappe à son producteur, par son inscription dans un second marché, de plus en plus spéculatif au fil des années, phénomène qui agace Bolino, a fortiori lorsqu’un marchand, par ignoranœ ou cynisme, spécule sur un livre alors qu’il est encore disponible au Dernier Cri…
Mais le choix de la sérigraphie n’est pas que stratégique : il s’agit aussi d’un intérêt artistique pour le médium. « J’adore la sérigraphie, dit Bolino, parce que les couleurs sont belles, ce qui souvent n’est pas le cas en offset, et encore moins en impression numérique, ce qui est juste le cas quand tu fais de la couleur en vrai sur le papier. » Art subtil de la superposition des couches de couleur, la sérigraphie permet l’expérimentation et l’invention d’un style. Il suffit de manipuler un ouvrage du Dernier Cri pour constater sa « patte » unique perceptible au premier regard, inséparable du toucher, de l’odeur et du son de l’objet-livre, dont la matérialité du papier offre l’occasion d’une véritable expérience sensuelle.
“Le dernier cri”, c’est à la fois un mouvement pictural alternatif et une maison d’édition qui a publié plus de 400 livres.
The synthesis of DIY punk and Arts & Crafts
Rather than wait for or seek recognition from the art world, Bolino chose to “do it himself”, without asking for authorization. This is also why he did not follow a “logic of valorizing the original”. For him, the original is first and foremost the multiple, the printed: books and posters, for which the original drawings are mere means. For those seeking to produce and distribute their work without going through the dominant bodies (galleries, museums, publishers and their “little bosses”), self-produced print is an efficient and rapid way of “making things exist as they happen”. This is one of the main challenges of the graphzine, which Bolino experienced in the second half of the 1980s with APAAR and l’Atelier, where he trained in various silkscreen techniques with Frédéric de Broutelles. Now, with Le Dernier Cri, he “continues to hammer the nail in”, in his own words, taking on trainees to whom he passes on his skills, like a master craftsman of the guilds of the Middle Ages. L’atelier de la Friche achieves a singular synthesis between DIY punk and the spirit of the Arts & Crafts practiced by William Morris in the 19th century: for Bolino, as for Morris, the purpose of art is the pleasure aroused by the creative application of human faculties, both in the producer and the receiver.
As part of a culture of autonomy, the choice of screen printing is first and foremost a strategic one. This process enables us to produce a small series of books ourselves, from design to distribution, including all stages of production, and to set a selling price accessible to a wide audience, sufficient to finance the raw materials – paper and inks – for subsequent books. According to Bolino, art should not be reserved for a bourgeois minority of collectors – even if the commercial destiny of an out-of-print book eludes its producer, as it becomes part of a second market, increasingly speculative as the years go by, a phenomenon that irritates Bolino, all the more so when a dealer, out of ignorance or cynicism, speculates on a book while it is still available at Dernier Cri…
But the choice of silkscreen is not just strategic: it’s also about an artistic interest in the medium. “I love screen printing,” says Bolino, “because the colors are beautiful, which often isn’t the case in offset, and even less so in digital printing, which is just the case when you’re doing color for real on paper.” A subtle art of superimposing layers of color, silkscreen allows for experimentation and the invention of a style. You only have to handle a Dernier Cri book to notice his unique “touch”, perceptible at first glance, inseparable from the feel, smell and sound of the book-object, whose paper materiality offers the opportunity for a truly sensual experience.
Présentation de l’exposition par Aurélie Carnac.
Rencontres, amitié et art de vivre
Le Dernier Cri publie aussi des livres aux techniques mixtes, en étroite collaboration avec La Platine, la dernière imprimerie de Marseile labellisée artisanat d’art, dont les anciennes machines offset mono-couleur permettent d’imprimer en tons directs, en bichromie et en trichromie, selon un principe proche de l’impression sérigraphique. À rebours des tendances néolibérales dominantes depuis les années 1980, jamais il n’a été question pour Le Dernier Cri d’imprimer au moindre coût des fichiers numériques envoyés d’un simple clic par leurs auteurs, en délocalisant la production dans de lointains pays où la main d’œuvre est sous-payée. « Il est important, dit Bolino, que ça coûte le plus cher possible dans l’investissement humain » : faire les choses ensemble dans l’atelier, « travailler vraiment avec le médium », produire des images et des livres «en fonction du procédé d’impression ». L’art du Dernier Cri, réalisé avec le plus grand soin, n’est pourtant pas une fin en soi : ce qui compte avant tout, c’est le processus même de production et les rencontres qu’il occasionne. Micro-phalanstère à la philosophie punk, Le Dernier Cri donne lieu à un véritable art de vivre, centré sur l’attraction passionnée, l’amitié et la fidélité, en vue d’uneaugmentation partagée du plaisir d’exister. Littéralement et dans tous les sens, Le Dernier Cri, c’est pour la vie !… Dans la lignée ouverte par Dada, son art anti-art, indépendant de l’institution art, est inséparable de la vie elle-même et rend celle-ci plus intéressante que l’art.
C’est pourquoi aussi l’engagement résolu, tenace et fidèle dans une production locale n’est pas incompatible avec un internationalisme sans limites : la vie et l’art s’ouvrent aux dimensions de l’univers, comme l’avaient bien compris les dadaïstes et les avant-gardes ultérieures qui en ont prolongé l’esprit émancipateur, jusqu’à l’Internationale situationniste, à laquelle le titre de l’exposition du MIAM – « Mondo Dernier Cri, une Internationale sérigrafike » – rend un hommage parodique et complice. S’il s’exprime principalement par ses images, Bolino n’en a pas moins une grande intelligence stratégique, manifeste dans ses actions menées à travers le monde. Souvent en voyage à l’étranger, pour faire des expositions, des concerts et projeter ses films, il prend plaisir à y nouer de nouvelles rencontres, tout comme il aime accueillir des artistes venus du monde entier dans son atelier pour réaliser, avec eux, des ouvrages inédits.
L’Internationale sérigrafike dont Le Dernier Cri est un point clé constitue un réseau de résistance graphique underground, terme que Bolino assume à condition de lui redonner son sens véritable. « Le mot “underground”, dans ce monde occidental dans lequel on vit, dit-il, est complètement galvaudé, il devient un slogan publicitaire et n’a alors plus aucun sens. Cependant, cela ne me dérange pas qu’on dise que mon travail est “underground”, parce que pour moi cette notion renvoie à quelque chose qui est fait sous la terre, dans la marge, dans le caca. Le Dernier Cri en ce sens est underground, même si nous faisons des expositions, par exemple, au MlAM ou à la Friche la Belle de Mai, parce que la manière dont nous le faisons est underground: faire ses livres soi-même, trouver ses solutions soi-même, hors du système dominant. Contrairement à ça, par exemple, des gens qui sortent des Beaux-Arts et qui se retrouvent catapultés dans le monde de “l’art contemporain” ne sont pas underground pour moi et ne l’ont jamais été, alors même qu’ils le revendiquent parfois comme une image faussement subversive pour en réalité mieux se vendre. L’underground, ça veut dire: ramer dans son caca, et savoir ne pas se noyer !… Ce qui est important, c’est de rester un artiste, de faire ce que tu veux sans être vendu à un marché, ne pas avoir un galeriste qui te dise : “fais ci, fais ça”. Donc le caca, c’est l’underground, et on ne dira plus “underground” mais “undercaca”, ou “cacaground”, ou “KKKground” ! … »
Pakito Bolino ‘El Ultimo Grito’ 2016
Vidéo/Performance du Stand du” Dernier Cri” situé dans la Cathédrale durant le Crack Festival à Rome 2017
Dark Magic Rıtual at LDC Studios: Jurictus X Tetsunori Tawaraya, 2015
Le Dernier Cri is for Life!
Le Dernier Cri also publishes mixed-technique books, in close collaboration with La Platine, Marseilles’ last remaining arts and crafts print shop, whose ancient single-color offset presses enable us to print in direct, two- and three-color tones, based on a principle similar to silkscreen printing. Contrary to the neoliberal trends that have prevailed since the 1980s, Le Dernier Cri has never considered printing digital files at the lowest possible cost, sent by their authors at the click of a button, by relocating production to faraway countries where labor is underpaid. It’s important,” says Bolino, “that it costs as much as possible in human investment”: doing things together in the studio, “really working with the medium”, producing images and books “according to the printing process”. Le Dernier Cri’s meticulously crafted art is not an end in itself, however: what counts above all is the production process itself, and the encounters it brings about. A micro-phalanstère with a punk philosophy, Le Dernier Cri is a veritable art of living, centered on passionate attraction, friendship and loyalty, with a view to a shared increase in the pleasure of existence. Literally and in every sense, Le Dernier Cri is for life!… Following in the footsteps of Dada, its anti-art, independent of the art institution, is inseparable from life itself…
This is also why a resolute, tenacious and faithful commitment to local production is not incompatible with boundless internationalism: life and art open up to the dimensions of the universe, as the Dadaists and the later avant-gardes who extended their emancipatory spirit understood so well, right up to the Situationist International, to whom the title of MIAM’s exhibition – “Mondo Dernier Cri, une Internationale sérigrafike” – pays a parodic and complicit tribute. Although he expresses himself primarily through his images, Bolino’s strategic intelligence is evident in his actions around the world. He often travels abroad for exhibitions, concerts and film screenings, where he takes pleasure in making new acquaintances, just as he enjoys welcoming artists from all over the world to his studio to create original works with them.
The Internationale sérigrafike, of which Le Dernier Cri is a key element, is a network of underground graphic resistance, a term Bolino accepts, provided he gives it back its true meaning. “The word ‘underground’, in this Western world in which we live,” he says, “is completely overused, becoming an advertising slogan and therefore meaningless. However, I don’t mind people saying that my work is ‘underground’, because for me this notion refers to something done underground, in the margins, in the poo. Le Dernier Cri in this sense is underground, even if we do exhibitions, for example, at MlAM or Friche la Belle de Mai, because the way we do it is underground: making our own books, finding our own solutions, outside the dominant system. Contrary to this, for example, people who come out of the Beaux-Arts and find themselves catapulted into the world of “contemporary art” are not underground for me and never have been, even though they sometimes claim it as a falsely subversive image to actually sell themselves better. Underground means rowing in your own poo and not drowning in it! What’s important is to remain an artist, to do what you want without being sold to a market, not to have a gallery owner tell you: “do this, do that”. So caca is the underground, and we won’t say “underground” any more, but “undercaca”, or “cacaground”, or “KKKground”…
LDC Meeting: Julien Gardon, Julien ‘Jurictus’ Raboteau, Usines Stronx, Sam Rictus, Diego Lazzarin, Johanna Peresito, Benjamin Monti, Piet Ducongo… 2018 / Place: Undetected
In the United States, the term “underground” was used to designate the French resistance to the Nazi occupiers during the Second World War. To use the term as an advertising slogan would be an understatement.
This double dialectic – of the local and the international, of art and life – has been at the heart of Dernier Cri since its inception, and helps us understand its profusion of styles and the diversity of its influences from the historical avant-gardes: Dada, Expressionism and “degenerate” art in all its forms – singular, raw, punk, heta-uma, refined, sophisticated, etc.., all with their own unique style and a great sense of humor that challenges certainties and hierarchies of all kinds.
In reaction to all the images we’re fed by the media,” says Bolino, “the humans in Dernier Cri redraw, triturate and revomit them. This then becomes interesting, either by getting to the heart of the matter and sublimating the thing, or by making it disappear in a burst of laughter. Hence our slogan: vomit with your eyes. Because after vomiting, you’re cleansed, purified, you feel better, you’ve got rid of things that are toxic to your body.”
And so the joy of living intensifies once again.
ARE YOU TALKIN’ TO PAK!?
Est significative l’expérience calamiteuse du Dernier Cri avec la DRAC(Direction régionale des affaires culturelles) de la région de Marseille : « J’ai eu, rapporte Bolino, deux rendez-vous en vingt ans avec le chargé du livre de la DRAC. Au premier rendez-vous, j’arrive dans son bureau avec un carton de livres, je les sors, et pour la première fois de ma vie j’ai vu quelqu’un qui avait peur physiquement des livres !… Il commence à voir les livres avec toutes ces couleurs, et il me dit : “non, mais nous, on aide seulement des livres de textes, il n’y a pas de textes dans vos livres”… Et moi je réponds : “mais si, regardez, dans Hôpital Brut, il y a des textes, des interviews”… Des années après, je retente ma chance. C’était un nouveau chargé du livre, mais il ne connaissait pas lui non plus Le Dernier Cri. Je lui explique ce que c’est, et il me dit : “d’abord, on n’a pas d’argent, mais surtout, si vous voulez vendre vos livres, je vous donne un conseil : vous n’avez qu’à les mettre en vente sur Amazon”… Et c’est le chargé du livre de la DRAC qui te dit ça !… »
Cette double dialectique – du local et de l’internationalisme, de l’art et de la vie – au cœur du Dernier Cri depuis son origine, permet de comprendre sa profusion de styles et la diversité de ses influences émanant des avant-gardes historiques : Dada, l’expressionnisme et l’art « dégénéré » sous toutes ses formes – singulier, brut, punk, heta-uma, raffiné, sophistiqué, etc., avec pour point commun sa « patte » unique et un grand humour sans dérision qui remet en cause certitudes et hiérarchies en tous genres.
« En réaction à toutes les images dont nous abreuvent les médias, dit Bolino, les humains du Dernier Cri les redessinent, les triturent et les revomissent. Cela devient alors intéressant, soit en allant à l’essentiel et en sublimant la chose, soit en la faisant disparaître dans un éclat de rire. D’où notre slogan : vomir des yeux. Parce qu’après avoir vomi, on est nettoyé, purifié, on se sent mieux, on s’est débarrassé des choses toxiques pour l’organisme. »
Ainsi s’intensifie à nouveau la joie de vivre.
Xavier-Gilles Néret est l’auteur du texte du catalogue de l’exposition Mondo Dernier Cri, Une Internationale sérigrafike, publié au MIAM en 2020. L’article ci-dessus en constitue une version abrégée, initialement parue la même année dans Le Monde Libertaire (N° 1819).
Pol Edouard ‘Super Bagarre de Rue 2 Turbo’ 80x50cm, mixed media on paper, 2020
« Lorsque je pense à un monde post-apocalyptique, je m’inspire de l’Antiquité, car l’état d’esprit des gens de l’époque est très proche du nôtre »
La fin des temps est devenue un thème récurrent dans le paysage médiatique, qu’il s’agisse de l’angoisse climatique ou de l’agitation sociopolitique. La notion d’apocalypse (et les êtres qui vivent pour y survivre) n’est pas nouvelle, bien sûr. En fait, la prophétie de tels événements fait l’objet de discours depuis des millénaires. « Lorsque je pense à un monde post-apocalyptique, je m’inspire de l’Antiquité, car l’état d’esprit des gens de l’époque est très proche du nôtre », explique l’artiste français Pol-Edouard.
Illustrer L’apocalypse dans une Gloire Rétro Ultra-saturée
Basé à Paris, les scènes dystopiques de Pol mettent souvent en scène des personnages tels que Blade, Terminator et Xena dans un affrontement pour la survie. Réalisé en grande partie au marqueur sur papier, son travail se rapproche des originaux – à savoir cette ambiance glitchy et rétro-futuriste qui est devenue si emblématique des années 80 et 90 – mais d’une manière hypnotique, vertigineuse, humoristique et carrément apocalyptique. « Tout comme les peintres d’autrefois représentaient la mythologie et la Bible, parce qu’il s’agissait de thèmes communs,» explique Pol, « le cinéma construit aujourd’hui notre univers commun. »
Pol Edouard ‘Gangs of Paris’ 2023
“When I think of a post-apocalyptic world, I draw inspiration from antiquity because the mindset of people then is very close to our own,”
The end times have become a recurrent theme within the media landscape — from climate angst to socio-political unrest. The notion of the apocalypse (and the beings who live to survive it) is nothing new, of course. In fact, the prophesying of such events has been the topic of discourse going back millennia. “When I think of a post-apocalyptic world, I draw inspiration from antiquity because the mindset of people then is very close to our own,” tells French artist Pol-Edouard.
Illustrating the Apocalypse in Ultra-saturated Retro Glory
Based in Paris, Pol’s dystopian scenes often pit characters like Blade, Terminator and Xena in an ass-kicking showdown for survival. Largely made using marker on paper, there is a quality about his work that lends itself to the originals — namely that glitchy, retro-futuristic vibe that has become so emblematic of the ‘80s and ‘90s — but done so in a way that feels hypnotic, dizzying, humorous and downright apocalyptic. “Just as painters in the past depicted mythology and the Bible, because those were common themes,” Pol tells, “today, cinema constructs our shared universe.”
On top of his own toys and print releases, Pol has had his hand in a number of collaborations over the years, including a Terminator 2 capsule with Brain Dead. His work, much like the LA-based lifestyle label, is amusing but contains dense undertones ties to a number of sub-cultural communities, such as retro action films to apocalyptic video games, such as Final Fantasy VII, which will see the second part of its remake drop next month.
Le mauvais oeil #69: ITW avec Pol-Edouard et encore une bonne dizaine pour voir son exposition dans les ateliers du Dernier cri.
« Lorsque je pense à un monde post-apocalyptique, je m’inspire de l’Antiquité, car l’état d’esprit des gens de l’époque est très proche du nôtre »
Pouvez-vous décrire votre dernière exposition, TRIPLE IMPAKT, et le livre correspondant que vous allez inaugurer cette semaine à Marseille ?
TRIPLE IMPAKT est une exposition au studio du Dernier Cri. Elle rassemble une grande partie de mes dessins de ces dernières années. Il y a beaucoup de dessins au feutre et de dessins où je mélange le feutre et l’aérographe. Les thèmes abordés dans le livre et l’exposition sont ceux que j’affectionne toujours particulièrement, comme les cyborgs, les femmes armées, etc.
Y a-t-il une histoire derrière cette série particulière et en quoi votre dernière exposition diffère-t-elle de vos travaux antérieurs ?
Ce qui est intéressant, c’est que, parallèlement aux dessins originaux exposés, j’ai réalisé des dessins pour la sérigraphie. Ceux-ci ne sont pas affichables car ils ne sont pas sur une seule feuille mais séparés par couleur (une couleur par feuille). Ensuite, grâce à la sérigraphie, les couches peuvent être superposées pour révéler le dessin final. C’est un projet qui s’étend sur deux ans, et tous ces dessins sont inclus dans le livre qui porte le même nom que l’exposition. Je juxtapose mon travail sur les dessins originaux avec les dessins sérigraphiés du livre, créés simultanément.
Pol-Edouard, Exposition d’estampes et d’originaux Sortie officielle du livre aux éditions du dernier cri
Can you describe your latest exhibition, TRIPLE IMPAKT, and the corresponding book you’re going to open this week in Marseille?
TRIPLE IMPAKT is an exhibition at the Dernier Cri studio. It brings together a large part of my drawings from recent years. There are many marker drawings and drawings where I mix felt-tip pen and airbrush. The themes addressed in the book and the exhibition are those I always particularly enjoy, such as cyborgs, armed women, etc.
Is there a story behind this particular series and how does your latest exhibition differ from your past work?
What’s interesting is that, parallel to the original drawings exhibited, I produced drawings for screen printing. These are not displayable as they are not on a single sheet but separated by color (one color per sheet). Then, through screen printing, layers can be superimposed to reveal the final drawing. It’s a project spanning over two years, and all these drawings are included in the book with the same name as the exhibition. I am juxtaposing my work on the original drawings with the screen-printed drawings from the book, created simultaneously. (Resource: Hypeart)
Pol Edouard ‘Triple Impakt’ LDC Edition, 2023
TRIPLE IMPAKT!
Pol-Edouard (Detail)
C’est la guerre des amazones, désirent-elles vraiment tuer tous les hommes de ce monde ou juste leur faire peur ?
Pol-Edouard, né en 1984 à Paris, a suivi des études d’art et d’illustration. Le directeur de la section lui transmet sa passion pour la renaissance lors d’un voyage en Italie. Il prend des cours de modèle vivant qui vont l’influencer à placer le corps humain au centre de ses recherches. Interné en hôpital psychiatrique à plusieurs reprises, son état se stabilise en 2017. Depuis, il développe sa pratique à travers divers médiums comme la peinture, la sérigraphie, la gravure et l’édition de fanzines.
Il dessine des motos, des gros flingues et des meufs baraquées. S’inspirant du cinéma hollywoodien des années 80, il peint des scènes d’action. Il réintroduit dans ses illustrations les thèmes et les éclairages multicolores en référence à ses films cultes. Dans la lignée de l’art brut, son style trash interfère. C’est la guerre des amazones, désirent-elles vraiment tuer tous les hommes de ce monde ou juste leur faire peur ?
1900’ler, modern yaşamın vaat ettiği uçarı zevklere özlemle bakan, taşranın boğucu atmosferinden kurtulmaya çalışan unutulmaz kadın karakterlerin hîkâyelerini içeren romanlarla hafızalarda yer etti. “Madame Bovary” ve “Anna Karenina” bu tür romanların en bilinenleri arasındaydı. Geleneklerin ve yavaş yavaş gelişmekte olan tüketim kültürünün arasında arafta kalmış, sıkışmış ve sıkılmış, rotasını belirlemekte zorlanan, unutulmaz kadın karakterler bu dönemde yaratıldı.
21. yüzyıl ise -özellikle Batı toplumlarında- dijital kültürün, kafa emeğinin ve esnek çalışma normlarının egemen olmasıyla birlikte erkek kimliğine dair her şey aşındı, erkek olmanın eskiden sahip olduğu anlam ve değer kayboldu. Bu durum edebiyat dünyasına da yansıdı, tabii ki. Chuck Palahniuk, Irvine Welsh, Nick Hornby, Tibor Fischer başta olmak üzere, pek çok yazar postmodern iklimde çaresizlikten kıvranan erkeklerin hikâyelerini romanlarına aktardılar, onları kurguladılar.
Onun için günümüz edebiyatının unutulmayan, etkileyici bütün karakterleri erkeklerden oluşuyor. Yani has edebiyat, tedavülden düşen, yükselen değer olma vasıflarını yitirmiş, bunalımlı kesimlere yöneldiğinde işlevini yerine getirebiliyor. Dolayısıyla zamanın ruhunun sembolü artık Emma Bovary değil Tyler Durden’dır.
“The most important aspect for me is to create something with my hands, for the dopamine rush I get when I can see and feel the result.”
Erdreich is an independent art studio run by Resa Macourek, a multidisciplinary artist from Vienna, Austria, who creates unusual drawings and accessories, and so now it’s time to get to know this talented woman.
Hello Resa, would you like to tell us a little bit about yourself for readers who don’t know you? In addition to being an illustrator, you also do very interesting gothic designs, how long have you been doing this, what kind of work have you done as Erdreich so far, what kind of path have you followed.
I’m an artist from Lower Austria but based in Vienna for the last ten years. Beside a whole bunch of other creative projects, “ERDREICH” is one of the most consistent ones. I started it in 2017 while I was in jewelry college. First it was just jewelry, mostly pins and necklaces, now it is a wider range of jewelry and also prints and some other stuff.
VAMPYR III necklace (small). newsilver, hand-etched with acid.
A piece of jewelry should be made to be worn or it loses a little bit of meaning.
Do you have an academic education or are you a self-taught artist?
After I finished my fashion design studies, I knew it wasn’t the right thing for me. So I attended a college that offered a field of studies that combined jewelry design and fine arts and got my arts diploma there. During my time at the college I fabricated more experimental and unwearable art jewelry. Some of these pieces were shown at multiple exhibitions. One is actually starting this month in Seoul at the Museum of Art Craft. Creating such pieces was fun but my approach is that a piece of jewelry should be made to be worn or it loses a little bit of meaning.
In every other discipline I am working in I am self-taught. Since I can remember I was crafting with every imaginable material and till today I am still trying to do new stuff all the time. Most recently I started to learn embroidery.
When we look at your work, we encounter a designer, even a fashion-designer rather than an illustrator. How do you position yourself in terms of your work?
With so many projects going on it is hard to put a name on it. I would consider myself more of a craftsperson. The actual designing takes the smallest part in my working process. The most important aspect for me is to create something with my hands, for the dopamine rush I get when I can see and feel the result.
When we look at your illustrative works, design products and presentations, we see that you create a very different, gothic world of your own. Do you have a brand or a dream project that you are trying to create with this in mind?
Not really, the most things that I draw or how I present my work in photos happen spontaneously and intuitively without a vision in my mind. The classical gothic aesthetic bores me slightly out so there must always be a little bit of weirdness and humor beside the dark elements.
Häexenmilch Tattoo Atelier – Vienna
Creepy & Funny Sketches by Erdreich
Erdreich Jewelry
“I would consider my jewelry as genderless. I have female, male and non-binary customers. The types of products I’m creating are all sizeless so there are no limitations regarding body shapes.”
In which direction is your current working principle more?
I have been practicing automatic drawing almost every day for the last couple of years. I just let my hands do their thing without knowing what the result will be. It is very relaxing for the mind. First I was a little afraid to show these drawings because they are far from perfection and unfiltered from my subconsciousness. But people seemed to like them and also wanted to get them tattooed. So that led me to do more tattoos recently. I started with hand poked tattoos some years ago for fun and mostly on myself or friends. You can find them under the name “häexenmilch” on Instagram. I am excited and happy every time someone decides to wear my permanent jewelry on their body.
On one side there is also an economic aspect I have to keep in mind. People are willing to spend a lot more money on tattoos than on jewelry. And on the other side it is a much more social thing to tattoo someone than sitting alone in my crafting dungeon.
Another passion of mine is lino printing. I print on paper as well as fabric so the prints can be worn as patches. I also feel the importance of wearability there too.
Artist at Work !!
Most of my designs are drawn by myself, it’s mostly animals, monsters, bones or jackalopes. Sometimes I also use motifs from ancient woodcuts or etchings that I love.
As Erdreich, what kind of materials do you work with in your design products, would you like to talk a little bit about the technical aspects of your work and the content of the creations you create?
When I used to do crazy art jewelry I used all kinds of unusual materials like my own teeth, animal or human bones, insects and parts of Barbies I found in the trash. In the last couple of years I almost exclusively worked with non-precious metals like copper, brass or new silver. The technique I’m using is chemical etching which is originally used for decorating armors and weapons and later for intaglio printing.
It is a long and labor-intensive process. I start with a sheet of metal which is covered in an acid-resistant ground, then the motif is carved in reverse by hand with an etching-needle. After the acid bath, the sheet is cleaned and the piece is cut out, filed, soldered and polished.
With all the modern technical possibilities like laser cutting/printing, cnc milling etc. I could easily produce pieces much faster and in an easier way but as I said I love working with my hands. It’s much more satisfying than letting a machine do the work. So every piece is unique and not just a soulless industrially produced piece of metal. In comparison to precious metals the ones I’m using are recycled and much more environmentally friendly and affordable.
Most of my designs are drawn by myself, it’s mostly animals, monsters, bones or jackalopes. Sometimes I also use motifs from ancient woodcuts or etchings that I love.
Artist at Work !!
Erdreich Productions !!
“So every piece is unique and not just a soulless industrially produced piece of metal. In comparison to precious metals the ones I’m using are recycled and much more environmentally friendly and affordable.”
I guess you are designing something for men as well as women’s accessories, what awaits us in the upcoming period.
I would consider my jewelry as genderless. I have female, male and non-binary customers. The types of products I’m creating are all sizeless so there are no limitations regarding body shapes.
At the moment I rarely create new pieces if so, then mostly for myself, on demand or for markets. Jewelry wise I’m waiting for the muse to visit me. But I like my stuff too much myself to give up making jewelry completely.
Vampire in her sleep
Exciting moments from the workshop…
“Mixing things together that seem to be opponents is not the most easy thing to do but it creates irritating and interesting outcomes.”
Between Life and Death: Erdreich Jewelry
Beware! Erdreich Jewelry
Erdreich Jewelry
Erdreich 2024 Collection
Erdreich Jewelry
Let’s talk about your aesthetic world! You have a dark and gothic style, but I don’t know how you manage to transform it into a modern form by blending it with interesting colors and a creepy sense of humor; what inspires you, are you really a melancholic and gothic woman or is it just an attitude you use in your art?
It is a 100% expression of my personality. Like I said I do the things that I do out of intuition and authenticity is very much important to me. I am in a constant cycle of change and that deflects on my art. So there is the more funny, colorful, cute and silly part of me existing next to the dark, depressive, creepy, more extreme or even repulsive part. Sometimes they are equally coexisting, sometimes one of the parts is more dominant. Mixing things together that seem to be opponents is not the most easy thing to do but it creates irritating and interesting outcomes. Which I prefer over nice or pretty things.
My biggest inspirations are nature and decay. Always been fascinated with death since I was a child. While other kids played with dolls or something I dug out some bones from the ground. A visit to the local graveyards is a mandatory thing to do when I visit a new place. I also feel very blessed to live in a city with one of the biggest and most beautiful graveyards in Europe. A lot of my jewelry photos were taken at the Vienna Central Cemetery.
Also I am a huge fan of folk horror which is the perfect combination of the two things.
“I do feel the importance of leaving the planet as unscathed as possible with what I am doing.”
Erdreich while resting in her coffin… : )
How are you with fashion, are there any brands you follow?
After I finished fashion school I completely lost interest in producing or keeping up with fashion. I couldn’t ignore the fact that this branch is extremely unsustainable and superficial. For the most part I am wearing vintage or second hand clothes and of course band shirts.
Do you think that small-scale ateliers and arts & crafts culture provide an alternative to big brands?
That would be a beautiful thought but I don’t think so. They are important for the big brands to copy from. But with something made on a smaller scale, by hand, often by one-person businesses comes a certain price, which is absolutely fair to ask for, but sadly not affordable for most of the people. But I love being in a DIY scene which gives me the opportunity to trade art with other awesome artists.
Erdreich Jewelry
Erdreich Jewelry
So, you say that the real creative potential lies in these amateur souls?
I would say that a lot of artistic potential cannot be fully reached because many people simply do not have the resources and do not come from affluent backgrounds. The most creative and talented people I know don’t know how to do something with their gift or can hardly navigate in this capitalistic system.
But real art (the same with music) has to come from a place of suffering in some form, in my opinion.
Can we talk about labor exploitation or a class struggle here?
I come from a lower-middle-class family, which has been financially unstable for most of the time, yet I have had the privilege of always receiving support from my parents, even though they probably would have preferred a path with less struggle. Others have much higher systemic barriers that prevent them from equitable access to artistic careers. To afford my creative pursuits, I have also always had to do lousy low-wage work. But I’d rather work in a shitty job and do my craft in my freetime than let my creativity be exploited by a company.
Isn’t there anything that bothers you about big brands getting rich from youth trends?
My opinion on this is ambivalent. On one hand, I think it’s good that larger brands are now engaging with diversity, which can definitely help marginalized groups by making them visible. On the other hand, there is, of course, the problem that many companies simply appropriate without giving recognition or credit, and they excessively profit financially from it. But I do not know anything about youth trends at the moment to be honest.
From your presentation photos, I think you are a nature friendly person, do you have a worldview that influences your designs and art?
I grew up in the countryside so nature plays a big part in my life. The translation of “ERDREICH” is “soil” or “ground”. I do feel the importance of leaving the planet as unscathed as possible with what I am doing.
Isn’t there a chance we can reverse the perspective in favor of DIY Culture?
My view on this is rather pessimistic, so in general I would say no. I think it’s too late. But DIY culture provides an important safe space for those who are searching for refuge. Even in a culturally rich city like Vienna, not much value is placed on the less commercial part of the cultural scene or a low-threshold access to institutions or education.
Erdreich Jewelry at Punk Market, 2022
As Erdreich, where and at what kind of events do you mostly offer your products for sale, and what should those who want to reach you do?
On a few occasions a year I am selling my jewelry and prints at some art or DIY markets in Vienna. Besides that I am taking requests on Instagram or doing story sales from time to time.
Erdreich Jewelry
That Barbarella pose with one of the Hirnplatzt t-shirts is really cool, your friends I guess? I know them from the comics they publish and I was surprised to see you. How are you with music, what do you listen to?
Thanks! I actually don’t know Hirnplatzt personally just through instagram. Music and especially live music is the most important thing to me. I listen to a broad spectrum of genres, mostly extreme stuff like metal, punk, hardcore, noise but I also love folk, blues, German rap and some of the most obscure stuff imaginable. I am always digging for new artists and styles.
Are you into occultism or black metal? If you have any (old or new) bands from the Austrian Black Metal scene that you would recommend to us, we would love to hear about them.
I’m drawn to occult stuff but rather regarding the aesthetical then the spiritual aspect. I wouldn’t consider myself a spiritual person. Black metal has been a huge thing for me since I was a kid. I still remember the life changing day on which I bought my first Darkthrone record almost 20 years ago. That genre had and still has a big influence on me. I always gravitated towards extreme art.
I’m really glad that we have a small but vital underground scene in Austria. There are many good bands, especially those who are rooted in the punk scene. Hagzissa is one of my favorites, they have such a strong musical and aesthetic concept. It’s always a joy to see them performing on a stage. Some other good ones that come to my mind are Kringa, Peace Vaults, Parasite Dreams, Ara, Weathered Crest, Circle of Shadows or Witch Ghetto.
and the vampire retreats to her coffin…
Thank you very much for participating in the interview, it’s exciting to get to know you and your art works, we also thank you for sharing your knowledge and vision with us.
Toute l’oeuvre de Blanquet est une ode à la vie organique, dans ses délices comme dans ses supplices, pour l’amour à mort du corps et de la vie à perte de vulves ! Comme quoi, même la chair torturée reste à jamais savoureuse, surtout quand elle est rissolée au beurre de cavité.
Thomas BERNARD / Fluide Glacial 2020
L’art de Stéphane Blanquet agrippe les paupières et plonge les châsses trop chastes dans l’abîme gluante des désirs inavouables, ceux qui, refoulés tout au fond depuis l’enfance, dégénèrent en créatures perverses accros à une trop concupiscente cruauté. Moi même, j’ai bien galéré pour remonter à la surface et témoigner aux lecteurs de Fluide de cette odieuse odyssée du vice qui se déroule à la Halle Saint Pierre en toute impunité.
Depuis des lustres, les bas fond de notre cervelle servent de barbotière à Stéphane Blanquet. Faut dire qu’en bon céphalopode à roulettes, nul besoin pour lui de divan ou de scaphandre chimique pour patauger dans les limbes ; ses multiples tentacules lui suffisent amplement. Grâce à elles, il peut traquer l’inspiration au crépuscule, terré dans les trous et les anfractuosités de nos âmes.
Chacun de ces appendices est indépendant et lui permet de bâtir un univers aussi exubérant que glauque sans jamais s’engluer les ventouses dans le pathos. BD suintantes, photos et illustrations macabres, publications touffues, films d’animations en soins intensifs, tapisseries de baveux,, céramiques moites et peintures licencieuses à toucher du bout de la langue… Toute cette charpie fumante s’agglutine dans sa tanière en attendant une mauvaise occasion pour nous sauter au visage!
Le moindre centimètre carré de ses oeuvres grouille de détails crus. Les couleurs vibrent au rythme d’un débit de carnes et les noirs sont si profonds qu’ils vous aspirent l’oeil comme des boyaux sans fin. Les scènes représentées semblent tirées de comptines fredonnées par des enfants fous autour de charniers … Au premier coup de narine, ça schlingue le désespoir !
Blanquet (Détail de l’étude) Hologramme – Anaglyphe
« Dans les têtes de Blanquet », une exposition-choc à la Halle Saint Pierre
Blanquet (Détail de l’étude) Hologramme – Anaglyphe
‘Les leçons d’anatomies chimériques’ Une création de Stéphane Blanquet et de Angélique Friant sur une musique de Uriel Barthélémi. De la Marionnettes à Charleville Mézieres, 2023
Blanquet (Détail de l’étude)
Les cris sous la peau, dans Professeur Cyclope, 2014
“Si ça ne coule pas, que ça ne dégouline pas, ça ne m’intéresse pas”
Pourtant sous ce magma de charogne libidineuse palpite bien plus que la verge des asticots. De ces paysages en viscères écarlates, suinte une cascade inépuisable dont le plus sec des gosiers sait qu’il ne touchera jamais le fond de la cyprine. Toute l’oeuvre de Blanquet est une ode à la vie organique, dans ses délices comme dans ses supplices, pour l’amour à mort du corps et de la vie à perte de vulves ! Comme quoi, même la chair torturée reste à jamais savoureuse, surtout quand elle est rissolée au beurre de cavité.
Stéphane Blanquet’s art grips the eyelids and plunges the overly chaste into the slimy abyss of unavowable desires, those that, repressed deep down since childhood, degenerate into perverse creatures addicted to an overly concupiscent cruelty. I myself had a hard time coming to the surface to tell the readers of Fluide about this odious odyssey of vice that takes place at the Halle Saint Pierre with total impunity.
Stéphane Blanquet has been wading in the depths of our brains for ages. As a cephalopod on wheels, he doesn’t need a couch or a chemical suit to wade through limbo; his multiple tentacles are more than enough. Thanks to them, he can track down inspiration at dusk, burrowing into the holes and crevices of our souls.
Each of these appendages stands on its own, allowing him to build a universe that is as exuberant as it is creepy, without ever getting stuck in pathos. Oozing comics, macabre photos and illustrations, thick publications, animated films in intensive care, slobbery tapestries, sweaty ceramics and licentious paintings to touch with the tip of your tongue… All this steaming lint clumps together in his lair, waiting for the wrong opportunity to blow up in our faces!
Every square centimetre of his work is teeming with raw detail. The colours vibrate to the rhythm of a carne flow and the blacks are so deep that they suck your eye in like endless guts. The scenes depicted seem to be taken from nursery rhymes hummed by crazed children around mass graves… At the first nostril stroke, it stinks of despair!
Meeting: Gary Panter & Stéphane Blanquet / Directed by Ludovic Cantais, Galerie Martel, April 2011
“If it doesn’t drip, I’m not interested.” -Blanquet
Yet beneath this magma of libidinous carrion pulses much more than the maggots’ rod. From these landscapes of scarlet viscera oozes an inexhaustible waterfall that the driest of gullets knows will never touch the bottom of the cyprine. Blanquet’s entire oeuvre is an ode to organic life, in all its delights and torments, for the love of the body and life to the point of death! As if to prove that even tortured flesh remains forever tasty, especially when browned in cavity butter.
magasin de proximité
Buy it at the Halle Saint Pierre, in all the good bookstores or on blanquet.com
– you can also subscribe for the whole collection !! –
l’ensemble de la collection est disponible (pour un prix réduit) lors de la souscription
LÖPÇÜK 