edward ruscha

“Noise” - Edward Ruscha (1963)

I don’t mind the cacophony of the city - every sound, every life, has an intent and collides together to form its own distinctive, urban, ambiance. That is very different from the jarring roar of a highway tearing through the mountains, or 80’s pop being blasted in the backyard of a sprawling, green, bubble of suburbia. Here, these few noises are imposing, dominating, what should just be the rustles and chirping of the deciduous northeast. Oil powered machinery has no place here. Every time I see, and hear, landscaping crews tearing through lawns that desperately try to regain hold of space that was once theirs, I get pissed. The suburbs hosts great incompatibility; it attempts to be an escape from the city, yet it refuses to abandon the sinful comforts of the fast, mechanized, life. But I’m going to keep this brief:

Dear next door neighbor,  

TURN DOWN THE MUSIC. STOP CONSTANTLY CHOPPING DOWN TREES AND HIRING GROSSLY EXPLOITED MEXICANS TO MOW YOUR LAWN EVERY FUCKING DAY. GEEZ, WAY TO RUIN A NICE SUMMER DAY.

Sincerely,

Edward Ruscha Pool, 1968 22 15/16 x 29 inches Gunpowder on white wove paper

Actual Size 1962

Edward Ruscha

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