Panz4 Troupé

Miroslav Tichý (Kyjov, Czech Republic, 1926-2011) lived the absurd of art and its social functions in almost all of its stages. Or, at least, two of its ends. As a graphic artist and member of the Academy of Fine Arts of Prague, he experienced the processes of normalization of the communist regime, leading him from a promissory career as painter to a decade or so of psychiatric institutions which ended in indigence from the early 60′s to his death in 2011.

Indigence however meant to Tichý the discovery of photography. With handmade cameras constructed out of waste (paper tubes, metal plates, tin cans, plastic or glass bottles as lenses and, in some cases, parts from “formal” photographic cameras thrown away by their owners), the artist shot hundreds of photographs daily which he later lousy developed, also with rudimentary chemical processes. Sometimes he would also frame his prints with drawings or some other waste materials. Truth is after that he utterly forgot about his work and his photographs and these were accumulated into his attic to count several thousands.

An old legend says that long King Midas hunted in the woods for the wise Silenus, the companion of Dionysus, without capturing him. When he finally fell into his hands, the king asked him what is best and most preferably for humans. Rigid and motionless, silent the Demon was until, forced by the king, just burst into these words, amid raucous laughter: “One day miserable Kindred, children of chance and misery, why do you force me to tell you what would be more advantageous for you not to hear? Best of all is utterly beyond your reach: not to be born, not to be, be nothing. And the next best thing for you is to die soon. “

Friedrich Nietzsche, “The Birth of Tragedy from the Spirit of Music”.

We all have an old fanzine stored in a drawer somewhere.

The Pig Paper was the first self-published fanzine about music from Canada, one of the pioneers and most enduring examples of the small press in that country.

Mariane Kolb

Document fades away, with the quiet beauty reserved to the absurd, when it begins to document what never was.

BEFORE ANYTHING ELSE, YOU SHOULD BE AFRAID | ANTE TODO, DEBERÍAS TENER MIEDO

Bur Planet or Planet of the storms is a Soviet  science fiction film directed by Pablo Klushantsevym based on the novel by Alexander Kazantsev. Released in 1962.

Sent to the planet Venus-Soviet expedition in three spacecraft. One of the ships, “Chapel” dies in a collision with a meteorite. The remaining teams are “Sirius” and “Vega” in the first spacecraft traveling three Soviet cosmonauts in the second, a Soviet man, a woman, an American and humanoid robot.

The ships make the decision to land on the surface of Venus, leaving the woman in orbit to support the connection of the spacecraft to Earth. Venus is a planet rich and strange  – the planet is inhabited by animals like dinosaurs.

UNA JOYITA | A GEM

The worst thing about Dogma is it doesn’t like to start arguments. Its intention is to close itself into general nomenclatures without any commitment or meaning, and to turn it into a practice. That’s why it can only move on the edge of ignorance –ignorance as an excuse or as a starting point, ignorance as a sine qua non characteristic of the addressee or, even better, as a univocal and ideological decision– or, often enough, on the edge of scandal. Scandalized by the tradition as well as by the non-figurative, shocked by the abstract and the concrete, considering everything as halfway between the beautiful and the grotesque. The dogma does not fill gaps: it prefers to point them out, prefers to denounce them, and prefers to stand across the street and to lack any aesthetic, ethic or semantic definition that forces it to give subsequent explanations. However, cannot accept be defined as spectator: there is an inflection that turns its diatribe on something worth listening to with a respectful silence, and its reasoning often involves ideas like “Love”, “Innocence,” “Life” and “Sublime “, which become handy either if it’s being progressive or reactionary. Dogma is rector and categorical, taxonomic and antipyretic. Do not try to get involved except to demand other’s belief in the moral superiority of its statement. The dogma is conveniently immaterial during the embodiment of its activism: the censor, whose comfort is sought in subsequent and also intangible validations (quotations, fake militancys wildly narrated, university degrees and applauses from the audience). It is the same for the censor hating nudism as for the nudist censor, the same for the censor facing you as for the censor inside of you.

The censor, secretly, would also like to be naked. And stop being it right away.

Two moments at the map of “Meat Joy” (both contain nudity):

Jel Ena

“Because she was dead, and after I had left. Because now she was immortal, and I helped her get into that state. And because I knew that she would phone tomorrow” Winter Market, Willam Gibson

SHORTS FOR RADIO - SOL REZZA

(We recommend listening to this program during the night) “Old disembodied voices from another world without time, no space, no language.” Dedicated to archive.org  everything we do once done leaves belong only time knows no copy rights.

website:http://shorts.panz4.com/

download album: http://www.archive.org/download/Shorts_for_Radio_Sol_Rezza_2012/Shorts_for_Radio_Sol_Rezza_2012_vbr_mp3.zip

SHAUN TAN

We are misteriously taken away from reality. They suspect a betrayal, a deceit; the simple minded accuses immorality, evasion, a confederacy; those accustomed to the sistematic boredom will accuse a bourgeois mannerism or Bolshevik slavery. Therefore, the idiotic voices of dogma would demand the art to be usefull, measurable, popular. They want it to be boring, sad and easily digestible, as they imagine the world to be.

Art has to have what it takes to achieve a transmigration of meaning: fire, delight, contradiction, a febril charm, damage. If you want usefull art, go to a crats shop. You’ll find plates with drawings; incredibly useful.