|
Sorry for the lame and crippled but tennis has got a lot to do
with framing movement. It's an ability. But I only enjoy imagining
the thinking of the character in sentences. I ask him. Is it really
the rocket that makes it so heavy?
(drums)
A stranger told me she went to the Kunsthal in Rotterdam to visit
an exposition called Star Track with her little elephant. After many
descriptions of the building - a glass box on legs viewing the Maas
- the elephant ended up in a virtual space ship destroying balls.
`And afterwards,' she said,` the play cabin said "thank you for
your performance".'
I hate this time because it's mixing up sources. The beloved extensions
are being misused. Little elephant loves Egypt, mummies and their
coffins.
The question is whether writers these days should continue doing
what they always did. If there is no certainty in any mental ground
but just reaction on the words, why then do we stick to the idea of
the inherited language?
Opinions [auxpineaugns] can be built up. Here is my opinion on
or rather about the framing of movement, it being objectified as a
moment of decision making during a so called "improvisation";
a session or exercise participated by one or more performers some
times exposed after a rehearsal process as performance art. Framing
moment has got to do with Big Brother's discussion on human being.
If you are not an academic it can cause disorder problems if you are
an academic you deny the field that is bothering you. (Can you swallow
this macho language?) The main task is to wait and concentrate for
the right moment to release the impulse. Others do the opposite.
Never on a beach, always in the theater and always it's serious
business. They want my opinion. Serious I hate contemporary art in
which I only recognize my foster parents.
And now comes the next part. This text has no warm fluid connected
composition and yet it's a normal text. It's ugly. But. So what? Do
you know what the right sentence is? Guesse guesse aht~!
INTERNET
read me on the toilet
When writers and rulers started working together
the world became a battle
and so to undo that
any text should give wonder and boredom
Filosofen en sommige andere wetenschappen gaan dan opbloeien.
Maar historici steken waarschuwend de wijsvinger in de lucht:
"Vooroorlogse Duitse kinderen groeiden op met Phenomeentje."
Ingeborg Houwen Productions Presents My Mother Was a Clown Dot
Com : Article + Info Mailing
Now next in Youro Country!
Free recipe for a science fiction story based on the economical news
of today's day.
storyframe:
Americas West Coast buys Europe by offering E-options to the wastelands
youngest breed of money gainers. Logan runs. Cross-plotting Pentagon
risks the health of humanity on a larger scale by doubling human culture
once more.
plot
America's West Coast E-dream explodes because every new born infant
becomes a tiran and Europe wants her
money back. Now fight back as a fragmented Neighbour who fights back.
1739826876427186549
So the question is Robby the Robot vibrated: how do we save the good
stuff?
A square box filled with new young autonomous theater is only
interesting for happy good people.
and a poem
To my ballet major and friend Paul Derksen
who spends his energy finding out something
about something and now wants me to say something about it.
"Framing movement" is the commission called.
Why don't these people realize that I can't produce for too little
money. It would seem ill.
Miss Minima
a casting burro
and Travel Agency
a site for intelligent artists
all keys
You have to reward me
in money
or else you get the
fiction foam found in sick old heads
2
et vois
Eva
The sun rises up
etceteras
Suck Seed
The Feet
Does it matter exactly what
she whispers
When dancing?
tittle MONTAGE
thoughts assembled around subjects
"essay"
for the Liminal Institute Embassy Book
by
Ingeborg Houwen
who
as a happy fiction writer finds writing articles in the official way
less fun to do. Every sentence has to be full with good reason and
fixed around a theme unless one writes a pastiche as they call it
in the field. Well today I decided I don't want to belong to that
field, which is important to put here in this text now (14 February
2000).
Dear ambassador of Cultural Affairs, thank you for funding us.
Do you read Lawrence Durrell? The Royal Green Jackets do - every poet
soldier who makes a career with his military diary does, if we may
believe my own private radio. Please inform yourself about the status
of plot strategies in reality in relationship to writers in Holland.
I am a writer in Holland. Get me out of this hyper reality beyond
expression of horror and death. Make me a desert somewhere.
or
How to unmarket the vagina
Anyone who sells a trick
even The trick
is a traitor
1
Since I was asked by the Liminal Tribunal to write an essay
about "foaming movement" - which I can't because I think
that it is a gift by Good Mother Nature - some lazy mood of mind made
up that "writing fiction" or "narrating" is the
art of "moving stories" whereby "stories" are
"world containers" with the usual stuff we know from life.
So the next question is: does the mind frame and how does it work?
Trala. Writers can "punch up" lines legally for money and
so in our mediacratic world story's or tales or fabulas must have
mass and space. They are. You can measure them. People get influenced
by them. Changing story's means changing somebodys outer alphabetical
character, perhaps even the metaphysical flesh. Punching up somebodys
lines equals the praised co-author ship. Imagine four hands on a type
machine. Impossible. Writing is solitary work. But now. What are "story's"
and do frames live in them? Is it called zero that causes story to
move on?
a poem
More cryptical as such lines as printed here often serve as speech
or dialogue in realistic films. It is significant that non actors
tend to imitate actors. Zero doesn't exist. Anymore? Can we put this
on music? And almost no film narrator breaks up reality with the rule
to mix up sound and source. Except when the character has taken drugs.
If it's the story that moves, perhaps the
narrator stops it. For the lost reader: try to imagine a
story on the Cartesian Cross.
"Zero" means "land" and "language"
in Greek like "plot" means "story" and "land"
in English. If you see symmetry on every two sides on you nose, the
third Eye is not in you. Robots indeed speak logically and logic is
what keeps it moving.
LET'S FORGET ABOUT THE CROSSES AND ARROWS OF OUTRAGEOUS SEMIOTICS
It's late and so I will go to sleep but first: warm black coffee.
I saw Four Weddings and a Funeral today what can I say, it's January
2000, I have earned five hundred guilders somebody promised. I feel
lonely and obviously my writing in English is uninteresting. But of
course the independent author can not expect to be translated. If
only it wasn't all true. But yes: Network was made in 1976; In the
ninety's I Ingeborg Media Child was not allowed to be a Fay Runaway
in the Dutch Mediapark yet my people got their collective anger and
the full merchandise to show and express it. Several corpses united
the nation. I wank myself behind the tree on you. Tomorrow I will
write to Hugh Grant and ask him whether he will introduce me to because
I'm worth it on the tram some time ago. Please open the door.
I
(deleted delusion)
9
Bordwell and Thompson, American graduates in filmculture, define the
wonder of narrating as a progression of "fabula" in "gaps".
In a footnote they etymologically explain "fabula" as an
old Russian word discovered in the snow during Napoleons Winter in
the home village of Roman Polanski in 1772. A gap is that part of
the story which goes on in the readers mind without it being told.
Gaps make us move our lips. Now this is a goddamn theory of the All.
Call the ambulance. Usually the gap is of no importance to talk about,
although the true gap is a reservoir of the finest pleasure, for those
who are sensitive for the temptation of the author. Chocolate d'or.
How do we keep the audience in touch with the structure. That is the
inner and outer struggle of the average writer. An essay leaves out
the location, only in this one there are no sources too. After the
queen forbade us to sunbathe for more then fifty years after the two
lips died on Hiroshima.
Big Brother Females IN Contest is MY background MY language field.
I have a dream: I am going to apply for a gossip column in a British
magazine. It will be a refined piece of writing and it's header will
be "Boring Amsterdam".
4
Call me (deluded)
5
A "plot" in Bordwell's and Thompson's film language equals
the cut up story like the cut up sausage on the boerenkool my ex-fiancee
explained seriously. "Gaps" the thing may be imagined as
the red velvet curtain David Lynch so often glues to the walls (Candy
said, commenting the text). Three lines around one word; La Theatre!
If anyone likes to shoot our Minister of Culture and then
force him to speak his imagery mind
do film it for me
0
Who was Derrida again? What theory was he yelling that made us forget
about truth in reality: the buying and selling of words?
We can not catch the movement of an object in any language for
the nature of movement is to move on?
I Jeane Durban sitting on a tree picture a dreamy short film
with Nietszche doing Ta'chi. We are on a Greek beach. His
feet move in the water, the steps in the sand are being
flushed away by the ocean until he moves no more and gets flushed
away. Action Adolph! Whatever he did say about this
later in the poem called Logocentrismus, he did not went mad by the
beach and the ocean nor by the moving of his feet in the water on
the sand. The metaphor meant a lot to him he loved it. He just couldn't
wait to relativate the staticness of life.
I am nervous to write this first sentence. For a page is like
the stage. "Essay" means "try" in French. Try
what? the reader will ask and finish this text himself. The essay
in general demands a very sporty approach to writing. The goal is
to produce a text which is clear and leveled but not too abstract.
And so if "pas-de-chat" means "miming the
World Emperor" I hope you know what "trying" means
to me
:
An essay is
absolutely
an essay
It's loneliness, Hugh, that makes us associate and trust. Close
the First book.
34
So, here I am. Landed.
3
Outside the Liminal Arts Festival Program in Berlin we saw a
piece of a danceshow showing a young human in need of a
holiday but being late at night at home - sleepy - exploring the body
in a burochair dressed in glitter and bright light and high heels.
"Friends" on stage? It was delicious
bad television on every average level and I loved the medical masturbation
scene with a wireless telephone. So with
"bravo" called it a "Happy Helpdesk Ballet". You
should be a critic in Berlin, the composers friend said. He was so
happy with my words! They always face the surface never hollow the
cake.
34
I would love to write a short novel in the voice of a young
dedicated over stretched ballet addict and in the end let him
speak and dance on a stage under a lamp for the merry
audience. Helas, for the reader. The editorial staff framed
the Spirit up wondering Her meaning on the art of framing
movement. Wrooof. Just follow the sentences. I'll make them run. I
am the frame. I am the word. O shit, a stone bow. Shiver yea!
3
To put a social political frame around the movement of
movement
:
In The Netherlands The Government
Considers to Withdraw Nature Science
from the School System
Because the children don't like it
radio
We all got to be strong
Down in Africa
Down in Babylon
Have a good look at the sentences in 2 and read them :
a) like it is
b) with the second line on the position of the third line
and vice versa.
Kick ball change!
2
Dear dancer
You are going to read an essay from the left to the right.
Or not.
No where frames are more important than in the Alphabetic
Texture. Every letter is a frame but we don't know what they mean.
We can call them conventions.
Wasn't it Aristotle who once said :
"In every aspect every element including human movement
occurs in one ownness that could be called "frames" and
therefore "framing movement" doesn't need to be a difficult
thing to say something about"
?
3 No writer thinks in a spatial time constructed frame. Usually
we use a lamp. Popper the great Falsification Karl used a very ordinary
lamp in his searchlight theory to detect naked facts, when I ex-plained
it in a cartoon picture. The image didn't give me high points on university.
They wanted a metaphysical answer, because we live next to the Germans.
Sorry. Miss Minima speaking.
This over completed text of only beginnings must stop.
4 Even a cheese moves. No body in the whole world understands
what it means. Framing movement therefore is a method to value, and
if one thinks it exists and if one wants to do it, I presume it's
better to be one self.
Not bright enough to speak about light other than: there is a
hole in my bucket or Bright Light Revisited.
To read this text must be like seeing a dancer who doesn't want
to dance. He just moves. He's concentrated on that. And then suddenly
he gets the Spirit, which is something different and so being a writer
dancing this is the moment to sit down and start.
5 I saw Montage to whom this art icle is dedicated. Montage or
Moondays was a dance piece of Eva Meyer Keller (picture) who must
be representing the Liminal Institute and clearly claimed not to be
caring too much about the audience.
Eva:
"For whom the work doesn't read it doesn't read. That's OK."
That was her brilliant simple and safe comment after
presenting a - for the unblessed spectator without an erotic
curiosity in the performers - rather dull dance. Just
like this text it lasted ages for it traveled through
current time and space as if the Upper Frame were the
homemade knitted objects above the dance floor in the Berlin
liminal space Dock 11. Covering up the fourth wall above us: the ceiling.
Moving intimately together Eve's troupe de ballet had domestic props
to play with on the floor. Kinder Box Garten we noted down industrially.
I have to admit
that I want to be honest in admitting that I remember only
the intimate parts (the Blindfolding and Touching) and the
last decision: to all GO to the back, climb a ladder and
throw down written words on paper.
Legal advice is wanted. What could "punch" the
piece up is a new spatial frame? Montage in a very clean
gallery turned into a dancing. Pitty off Enid Blyton, I thought at
that time. The PR text had been so promising! I had liked the attempt
of the author to show the skeleton of a concept, the schematic ugliness
of it.
1 Montage
2 dansvoorstelling
3 die geen element is
4 maar een hele voorstelling
5 die ongeveer vijftig minuten zal duren
6 zo maken wij montages. we proberen wat uit samen. middels
communicatie. soms werkt het niet. soms krijgt iemand een geweldig
idee dat dan wordt doorgespeeld via kleurrijke "draden".
we geven
elkaar opdrachten en soms volgen we die op. soms weten we niet eens
wat dat wat ons gevraagd wordt betekent.
We hebben besloten de woorden van de betekenissen af te halen
om te kijken of ze nog leven. Soms ziet het er mooi uit, soms zeer
lelijk. Soms betekent de scheiding een weer op-elkaar-schroeven. Maar,
wanneer we hebben besloten dat bepaalde woorden voor ons dood zijn,
kijken we uit naar andere.
Mensen die dingen maken zoals films over hun vrienden, hebben
het altijd over "montage". Nu maken wij een stuk dat "Montage"
heet.
Monteren is een proces van verzamelen, onderverdelen, assembleren
* en splijten.
* "Een assemblage is dat wat uitzet in bepaalde lagen van
een
veelvormigheid die hierdoor noodzakelijk van natuur verandert terwijl
zijn verbindingen toenemen."
Gilles Deleuze
Eva Meyer Kelly
translated to Dutch by Ingeborg Houwen
Some weeks later I started to appreciate Montage as a
demonstration against the steaming pressure of our dominated
lives. Reality had become a frame so permanently strange
that I needed to turn my eyes inwards. Montage became a
symbol of Indifference, the same day when S. asked whether I
was disconnected. It's the Lovely New Fuck It. It inspired
me to be unreadable in this essay. To not try to compete
with the perfect strings of things.
Dear reader
if you happen to know
that
lovely blond actor boy who played the one body of the heroes
story
in David Lynch skrgggggggggggtsssssswwwwwwwww film
Lost Highway
tell him I was impressed by his cabalistic approach
of the business
(I saw an interview with him.)
messages can be open or closed
yet readability will always exist.
Only once
unreadebility was a keyword to success
it didn't last very long
experts will say
6 It's very wise to masturbate the minds of the audience in
a PR text when behind the text in a cold space on a cold
stage there are five young frozen people moving around, some
but not all ready to give over to the magical profession of
stageacting. I never mind if dancers step outside the choreography
and move around for themselves. Performing art should not be an excuse
to re-invent the organization of another artist. Because we blank
and empty watchers will not notice the difference anyway. For we do
not know anything beforehand except the PR text.
Ough!
What ever the critic will say, Nicole Beutlers piece (title) did give
a "real explosion" as the flyer promised; but in a slow
almost Freudian rewind. (title) presented the before a Disaster Happens,
starting from the stabile present then falling back in time to count
forwards to the present. Kadoem. The final explosion the thing itself
happens in a black-out outside the text. It might be the stage light
or the electricity falling out or the final mud of the monster killing
us. Yet to watch the track reversed on stage made no sense. We experienced
the Portrait Of A Mimed Marriage Falling Apart.
Topped on the formula Nicole put Carlos (name) to represent the
vile parasite of media: a nervous news reporter clearly
clarified by a wired microphone. So that we indeed wonder: how do
we dare to experience. The lazy
consumerist position is enframed or affirmed by a set of
television screens right in front on the stage, showing
moving images showing an exploding piece of existing
architecture. Ein Hurricane!? In Brechts musical composer Kurt
Weil destroyed melody and all sound when the signified climatalogical
disaster entered the landscape of the story or town called Mahogany.
Just like Mozart or Beethoven dropped the instruments when the Don
became murdered. A moment blown up. It's classical. But 80 minutes
of fake physicality? Do we like that? To experience the experience
of experience? I go too close. Distance in perception has a factor
in art when assembling material but perhaps I need to push a bit more.
After all: ein Hurricane! It's South America again where natural forces
come together and the Berlin squat theater is cold too. We try to
imagine raindrops and ricecups while the performers on the stage explore
their ability of trembling. Also the costume has a linear progression.
That is funny, the jury below me whispers, it's the costume that frames
the movement. In the first scene they start with a coat and in the
second they are naked. Framing movement. Yes. Yes, the field is active,
yes the whole formulae works, but no; this appearance is not enough.
"Why yellow & Gray?! It's so V & D!"
Beutlers hurricane should have been profound and go right to the point
where we wanted to be. Dead or alive without a choice. You can fly
in the hurricane with a plain. In (title) we don't even know what's
going on. We can not know what's going on, for the main point falls
beyond the plot. We are deprived from the orgasm. And then we have
to applaud. This order or composition is what we wonder about measuring
a crescendo in noise and panic. We wonder whether this piece will
be ever amusing in retrospect.
I remember Nicole staging these significant borderline or
existential deadly moments much nicer.
In de oorspronkelijke verkleedruimte van de mijnwerkers van de
oude Kroatische koolmijn (het Lamparna Theater I.H.), kon men rondlopen
door en langs het schouwspel dat Nicole Beutler maakte met haar Kroatische
workshopleerlingen. In Und das Schiff fahrt - een mimografie geinspireerd
op een film van Fellini over de ondergang van de Titanic (e la Nave
Va) - werkte Nicole middels caracterbuilding en bodywork personages
uit die `langzaam ten onder gaan'. Bovenop de oude
roestige kluizen zaten ze: verlaten, nauwelijks bewegende en
nostalgisch uitgedoste jonge vrouwen: ze zeiden niets maar allemaal
hadden ze een eigen invoelbare tragiek.
OK, this is a very bad piece of writing also. It's me again
in 1996 to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, trying to avoid
the words "war victim" and "art education". In
1997 in one
of the Nes theaters Nicole staged an Und das Schiff Fahrt 2
with professional performers who came from various parts
of the world but had past their adolescent youth in Amsterdam being
students on the New Dance Development Department of the Amsterdam
School For Performing Arts. I liked that piece a lot. The Titanic
took me to other young aliens or alienated. The cosmology of the particular
moment and also the metaphor was the same as in (piece), but the scenes
around it were connected in a loose narrative way and somehow perfectly
suiting
the performers. Their level of physicality at the time was
high, nervous, prestigious, inventive. And the use of pain
and paint was not too much a serious question. They had
improvised on private matters (I was told), so Nicole
must have been a true nurse and at the same
time written down the instructions that could be called the frame
of the movement; the scenario of the play; the line of
the story; the tail of the tale; the parameters around being
professional in being professional. The actors - or the frame of their
electrifying beings - moved me. Now that's the frame I want to perceive,
and than create the choir of laughter. Smoke in the air.
Work on this idiotic tictac essay too late in the night. Private
text exterior. Exterior doesn't always mean to take your
lamps and camera's and shoot outside. Like interior doesn't
mean a metaphysical inside.
7
If the artist is afraid to frame because his mind is lost (as has
happened once to the whole universe I read
somewhere), he should work with simple elements that move
him during his present lifetime. Old people will say: but the
experience needs to be explored and unraveled. Untrue. A foaming frame
full of hot private unexplored areas always
generates neurotic refinement. Of course that was what
happened in Nicolas (name) piece. Thomas - drunk, sick, tired
and except a paper maché string between his legs naked - was
showing some tap-dance steps in the corner right behind. Walking from
the left diagonal to the center in the front appeared the author or
choreographer : Nicolas (name). Dear readers I can not describe what
happened. For nothing happened. He just executed a theatrical texture
(including video!) which he had instructed or fabricated that same
afternoon. And there he was: dressed I think in pink underwear and
red spot light, his crying mouth painted poorly like Klaus Kinsky
almost dead in Venice. Through this exposed fleshy inner gate an inner
person spoke to the audience. Nicolas is 23, an excellent dancer from
Paris and living in Amsterdam, Berlin and London. He performed that
night, by just a tiny DJ-ing and fj-ing sitting on the floor. And
there was something which I have forgotten. Something terrible. Something
a complete paradox. Perhaps just a speed rave element: a swallowed
stroboscope. The words of the speech were addressed to the floor and
too thin to hear and remember. I'm sure it went in clear sentences
about a lot of things that could be called the foaming frame of his
life as an artist. It was mom's uppressing wonder bra against the
new Viking law and in between his career as a dancer. It became a
gender crisis life on stage. He told us everything without us knowing
it. A big suprise.
Ingeborg Houwen Amsterdam 2000
Ingeborg Houwen (Leeuwarden, 1966) werkt als free-
lance tekstschrijver en auteur van postmoderne
fictie. Zij is zijdelings verbonden aan The
Liminal Institute; een internationaal netwerk van
podium kunstenaars die een open cultuur
nastreven. Tijdens en na haar studie Theater en
Televisie Wetenschappen aan de Universiteit van
Amsterdam schreef zij theater-en televisieteksten
in opdracht. Tevens publiceerde zij drie jaar
wekelijks feuilletons in het weekblad van de
Universiteit van Amsterdam (Folia); was zij
cultureel verslaggever voor diverse tijdschriften
en beheert zij een Internet Project voor
vrouwelijke kunstenaars. In Oktober 1999 presenteerde zij een fictie
roman (LIJK) tijdens de presentatie van een Amsterdams
literair tijdschrift (CRUX). Nu werkt zij
aan JACOBA'S ZOEN een toneelstuk over Jacoba van
Beieren; de opkomst van de geldeconomie en
vrouwenverbrandingen in de vijftiende eeuw. Ingeborg Houwen woont
in de Eerste Constantijn Huygenstraat nummer 120 B 1054 BZ Amsterdam.
Haar telefoonnunmmer is 020 6853134 en haar e-mail ingeborg_houwen@hotmail.com
|
