10.000 Motherfuckers

6 Oct

Fire Fire Fire Fire – something happened – today we are forgiving, we even forgive those whose name we don’t use – not for the Potter reason – but obviously because it embarrasses so badly. Fire fire fire not somebody but today it’s fireworks. Fire-fuckin’-works and glam, glamour, gala, bubbles and glitter, total festivity and carnival. In the office of Spangbergianism the staff have been shaking their booties since early morning. We’ve been slamming tequila from sunrise on without interruption and conspired about who’s gonna play the protagonist in the Hollywood version: James Goodman, is a good candidate but the casting directors have also negotiated with both Jack Black and Hooman Shariffi. Already confirmed is Meryl Streep in the role as Krõõt Juurak and Michael Gambon – otherwise known as Dumbledore – as Xavier Le Roy. Gambon has agreed to perform the character as long as Spangbergianism is played by Robbie Coletrane. Rumors have it that Joaquin Phoenix will appear as Jan Ritsema, but this is yet to be confirmed.

And yes, the party will go on, send flowers, donate some money, demand something. Ha ha, we will not close shop yet, that’s not what we celebrate. Nope, sorry, the editorial looks forward to continue making you suffer, shake your head and keeping up the attitude, even deepening, of stating totally obvious platitudes as if they were fresh like the NYC dance scene. But first, before we give it all away… a few words from our sponsors:


And remember, choreographers and dancers don’t ever, ever, EVER do something that includes interactive or installation. Computer games are interactive; sex is not, nor skype, fist fights or filesharing. What the hell is a non-interactive installation, or did interactive suddenly start to mean communication human to human. To me the Pierre Huyghe installation becomes interactive the moment I start thinking: this is shit!

You are a dance artist, you identify yourself as a choreographer – stay the hell away from installation. A dance installation is probably as stupid as performative interior decoration. We like betrayal, oh yes, but only if it includes all sides. Choreographers that make installations, especially if the attempted structure involves the artists and his entourage, betray their art form in the most embarrassing way. Put them in jail and have your dog swallow the key. Installation is objects and things spread out in a room, dance and performance is not, it’s action and intensity spread out in time. Installations are sitting in the museum, or in the storage, on the basis of eternity. Dance, choreography and performance have one thing that is specific — it’s over when it’s over. There is nothing left but some indifferent rumor.

No! No no no, I didn’t use the word, and I didn’t think about it. Stop using the word “memory” – Stop Stop Stop. It is bad for dance, it is bad for you! Every book you have that spends time on memory and dance, burn it. It’s not enough that you put it aside or throw it away. BURN IT. Those books are written by academics and historians, people that were born sentimental, that by definition are conservative, argue that a futon is a really great alternative and don’t garbage their eau de cologne before the bottle is really empty. Those are people that would have liked to be poets had they just had the courage. Those are people that wet their lips when they come up with a historical connection and wouldn’t read Zizek because it’s cheap to quote from popular movies [real academia, real philosophers don’t use examples, obviously], not because he is a fan of Woody Allan. Those are people that would come spontaneously the moment they fiddle a Madeleine cookie into their defensive writing. Texts where they speak about Isadora as if she was a friend and thus valued, and still write the full name of the three choreographers that they have decided to devote their lives to. We’ve had enough of memory, those defensive self-proclaimed ambassadors of dance have made dance back into the future, mourning its past and proceeding into the coming without having the slightest idea. Avoiding the next, and staying with a gramophone. [there is one thing more disgusting: performative writing. Now I’m vomiting on the floor of the office where everybody else is partying like monkeys, I mean lions – what the fuck, they all transformed into a wind or is it grass now. This is so not disco, we promote sex in front of dancing.

A word to academics and historians, you rot too slow. If you could just make dance and choreography putrefy really fast we would have something to celebrate you for. Stop defending shit that was bad already in the first place.

Passus, before we come back to interactive and whatever. You talk about doing something different, something really – you know – … different. You want to make another kind of, something really… remember if you want to do something different it also implies that you’ll have to leave something behind, and in your case this is dance. Sasha Waltz, Philippe Gemacher, Franz Poelstra even Mathilde Monnier, Jerome Bel, Boris Charmatz, Rachid Ouramdame, Grand Magasin, Regine Chopinot, Alain Buffard, Xavier Le Roy, Maurice Bejart, Anglein Preljocaj, Emmanuelle Huynh, Jean-Claud Gallotta, Hervé Robbe, Maguy Marin, Christian Rizzo, Philippe Decouflé, Alice Chauchat, Cecilia Bengolea, François Chaignaud and Anne Collot are all convinced that what they are doing is totally a different kind of dance, that they are on to something really really other and new.

There’s just one problem they will never allow for the necessary collateral damage. They will never, never give up dance, never do something that cannot be recognized as choreography proper. If you want to do something different the first thing you have to do is to forget about dance and fuck choreography.

It’s not enough, not even half way okay to engage in some interactive or equally idiotic installation – if you want to work in a context of installation you have to give up dance and choreography, performance and moving around. Instead of trying to remain yourself and one, allow yourself to become other and differ. It will imply fear and cruelty but there’s no way around BS. You have to become a visual artist or you will just be embarrassing.

As we are anyway at it, don’t collaborate with artists from other fields, spit on interdisciplinary. Don’t consider it something good that visual artists are doing performances. Denounce Allan Kaprow and remember what you hate most of all, what you hate most of all is reconstruction. That is choreography’s benevolent response to academia and backing into the future. Fuck memory, and fuck that mumbo jumbo about presence too.

You know what, Spangbergianism just made it to 10.000 views. Hands in the motherfuckin’ air.

Ps. Spangbergianism is pro certain kinds of collaboration – that of our readers. We are 100% solidarity, we betray all sides without exceptions. Are you responsible?


8 Responses to “10.000 Motherfuckers”

  1. Fittan October 6, 2010 at 18:16 #


  2. Girltoy October 6, 2010 at 18:18 #

    Congratulations Fatherfucker !

  3. Billy-Bob Thornton October 6, 2010 at 19:29 #

    It sounds like an easy way out (well, forward). And I’ll tell you straight away – there is no easy way.

  4. rosiren October 7, 2010 at 07:31 #

    Above us explode a golden lion dripping red. A blue bear spitting white.
    A spider of fire on a web of sparks. A green dragon with spiralled eyes.
    Fireworks light the way.
    Before us lie fireworks in boxes. But only in us, deep in us, only in us.
    Is the fire that lights them

    • Marten Spangberg October 8, 2010 at 19:40 #

      This is poetry, this is poetry, this is poetry. I’m – hum hum – how to say – yeah -touched. Damn, finally somebody that understood that even though I count myself to be a 21st man, I’m sillily attracted to animals, poetry and sentimentality.
      And now I’m in love, with Rosiren – phiuu – I’m blushin’ – – – the dragon part – the dragon part – I’m swimming in passion, enthusiasm and like – you are so fasci-na-ting. You are from Munich or it’s just my activist past that fucks around with me. The multivaginal mother dragon is listening.

  5. luke October 7, 2010 at 10:54 #

    great great and all that, but hey why the hell call the activity/blog spangbergianism if on doesn’t support self-promotion?

    • Marten Spangberg October 7, 2010 at 16:02 #

      Dude, we totally support self-promotion, it’s our best friend and luxury – the question is not if we do it is how. What dance is busy with is only self-promotion, the shit part is that it’s trying to make it like if its raining, you know whistling innocently… Fuck modesty, let’s rock. Let’s be stars, super stars.
      And btw, what would be a name that wouldn’t promote the author, with this name the author also takes responsibility for his actions.

  6. perrine en morceaux October 8, 2010 at 19:59 #

    10 000. impressing. it means, for example, that each one of your fb friend visited 3 times your blog ! Normally, meaning for a dance piece or a concert, when you send invitations to 500 people on fb, 3 come. allez, maximum 5. a very little 10%. you made it man. now they don’t go to the theater anylonger, they don’t fuck more instead either, they jerk off on their Apple screen but prefer to remain anonymous. yeah fuck them all. and Champagne !

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