Yeah, it happens like at 23.00 hours at Impulstanz Vienna. So come check it out at Casino and get your free copy.
Spangbergianism isn’t exactly published by Routledge – nope, it’s published through a series of release events at dance festivals and venues over the next six or so months. Yes, the book is for free and it is there to be used, abused, fucked around with and hopefully make you, as one of the comments on the blog proposed, to engage dance in the practice of saying fuck you.
You’re at a party, not one of those where you know everybody and feel like centerfold – “It’s been so long, we really should have lunch…” – but one of those that is half obligation and the other I’ve forgotten cuz it can’t have been pleasure. Anyway you’re there sort of checkin’ mails too often and having a very good idea on time – can I pö-lease leave soon and the food is so gluten and dairy that you can’t eat nuttin anyway [you’re so contemporary]. In one of those moments a person addresses you and cheese Louis it’s not a total dread. The conversation is running it’s path, it’s nice, you check the person out realizing that something less appropriate might be appropriate… As happens with every conversation it has to enter the domain of work, finally it’s time for… |work] you have already elaborated on your projects, multiple and overlapping job descriptions and you pass the ball to… “-Oh, you know I do a little bit of everything… Yeah, kind of here and there, in between sort of.”
Now, what do you do? Are you still talking to the dude quarter of an hour later? Are you asking for further explanation with a comment such as “This sounds very confused and is almost incomprehensible for me. Could you be a bit more concrete, for example which conception of the body are you talking about?” Or do you offer the guy your card and with a smile look forward to further conversations perhaps over a coffee, as you really share interests? Do you politely excuse yourself and go to the toilet to vomit? No, you run, not just for your life but for life in general – you might just be the only survivor – this is Armageddon.
Yes, I mean it is my answer to your face announcing that I’m judgmental and should be a bit more tolerant. Go to hell. A person that doesn’t know how to articulate what is going on eight to fifteen hours per day in his life, is pretty much insane and beyond reach. “But maybe he doesn’t want to…” you say, and I roll my eyes, give me a break if you don’t want to, at least do with a bit of elegance or avoid the questions, but SV-fuckin-P don’t even imagine that there is something provocative, attitude, cool, anti-capitalist in doing a little bit of everything.
If this dude was making art I tell ya one thing, he’d be working inter-disciplinary, perhaps using the oh so sexy term multi-disciplinary. Exactly, people that waste their time with multi-, inter- or trans-disciplinary projects, situations, research thingy-things they are like the Armageddon at the party. When you meet one of those run for the survival of the human race. Correct, people busy with inter-disciplinary shit are not human, but in the bad sense of the word [they are so incredibly naïve that they still think they are human].
To confess that you work inter-disciplinary is like a major disaster. First you confess to the fact that you have absolutely no idea what you are up to. I work inter-disciplinary, or OMG – I’m an inter-disciplinary artist… What’s that supposed to mean, how does that look – I’m familiar with painting, poetry even interactive installations [even though I hate them with every cell in my body], but inter-disciplinary how does that look? Don’t be stupid, you respond – no, but isn’t the fact that you say inter-disciplinary either because you can’t make you mind up [you’re probably notoriously unfaithful to your wife too, and every time it happens you’re like surprised], or because you have no freakin’ idea what you are dealing with, what your project is or what constitutes you work. Secondly, you confess to the fact that your work suck major and that you are so mediocre that you need help from somebody across the street. But mind you, deep down you know what, the ones that you will ever inter- yourself with are equally mediocre. Not a good situation, and here comes one more, once inter-disciplinary – there’s no way back. You will be riding scum-class on the artistic train, a train where Scott deLaHunta is the conductor – suck on that.
For your upcoming project you hook up with a visual artist, a psychoanalyst, a poet and stop it… you come together and discuss – it’s so interesting, so inspiring, such amazing people, and you work in the studio together and the closer to the premiere [cuz that’s of course obligatory] it all gets less and less exiting – and not so unlike the emperors new clothes it ended up as much a dance performance this time as any other.
Get this, inter-disciplinary is only acceptable under one condition and one condition only, and that is in applications. Inter-disciplinary is for art what glutamate is for Chinese food.
And remember show no decency when it comes to them – applications are not supposed to reflect your work they are s’posed to make you rich. Let’s try for a second to get out of the terrible innocence that artists are interested in inter-disciplinary. They are not, they are interested in anything that promises extended resources. Inter-disciplinary engage you in order to secure their own comfortable position [salary] not yours.
Thirdly, you confess to the fact that your idea of contemporary is coinciding with Ingmar Bergman’s – and you know who admires him… yes, Woody Allen. Get that right.
Check it out, can anybody recall when inter-disciplinary was invented, must have been about the same time as Joseph Kosuth and Charles Manson. Exactly that’s the shit, inter-disciplinary shadows a desire to kill not because of revenge, anger or hate but a desire to be seen. You know the serial-killer is just an identity sucker that actually just wants to be caught. That’s you Mr Inter-disciplinary.
Fourth, you confess to so much more that it’s impossible to bring you out of the jungle – it’s over.
Inter-disciplinary, when was it now… 1969 – yes, exactly that’s when it felt fresh, or almost. Paris 68 is around the corner, social-democracy is deep, Thatcher doesn’t exist yet, this is serious Fordism and self-precarization is still awesome. The early seventies needed inter- anything, or perhaps this it is exactly the moment when inter- anything stops – in favor of specific inter-, trans- or whatever. In August 1970 the president of the USA abandoned the gold standard, and the world as we know it became radically floating. From there on value is whatever we decide it to be, and over night the understanding of difference necessarily transforms. Suddenly difference is all we have. In other words, inter-disciplinary is pretty much amazing exactly until then, and from there on it’s only investment. How does that make you feel, you’ve been passé for forty fuckin’ years.
In 1970 inter-disciplinary could be said to have value in itself, not because of its expressions but because its deterritorializing intensity. Today that intensity is null and void and instead another word for tolerance, and what obviously has happened is that inter-disciplinarity has turned into representation, either in respect of expression or in relation to artistic research, but never mind, inter-disciplinary doesn’t exist as long as it is not visible in the product.
An inch more graphically, until 1970 inter-disciplinary was radical and worth while, not only because of the art, no it was a gesture against a society fundamentally based on discipline, a gesture that potentially threatened business as usual. But that’s not here and now, we live in a society where disciplinary has been exchanged for control and where what have to fought is openness, exchange, sharing, availability – inter-disciplinarity has turned into exactly what is desired by capital, it is the very modus of capital – open yourself to any kind of exchange and you’re a good guy. When inter- once was a matter of turning against dominant discourses it is today what the dominant desires. This is not a matter of promoting some mumbo jumbo modernist desire for essence, no it’s the awareness that media-specificity needs to be articulated yet not in respect of expression but due structural, strategic and tactical levels. That my friends is the only path towards an autonomy of knowledge.