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Archive: September, 2009
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| New York Times |
Or Ardmore, more specifically. The dreamer/psychologist/possible madman's legendary 100-year-old book, which he didn't publish during his lifetime and failed to tell his ancestors what to do with after his death, is biblical for Jungians. In a New York Times Magazine piece published this Sunday, one such Jungian says, 'I want to be transformed by it. That's all there is.' But until this Oct. 7 (for a hefty fee of about $100), no one thought it'd ever be published because of Jung's extremely protective family. That is, until Sonu Shamdasani, general editor of the Ardmore-based Philemon Foundation, labored for three years to convince the family to publish it. Here's a snippet from the NY Times piece about the foundation's director Stephen Martin's first time meeting with the Jungs:
Anytime someone did ask to see the Red Book, family members said, without hesitation and sometimes without decorum, no. The book was private, they asserted, an intensely personal work. In 1989, an American analyst named Stephen Martin, who was then the editor of a Jungian journal and now directs a Jungian nonprofit foundation, visited Jung's son (his other four children were daughters) and inquired about the Red Book. The question was met with a vehemence that surprised him. 'Franz Jung, an otherwise genial and gracious man, reacted sharply, nearly with anger,' Martin later wrote in his foundation's newsletter, saying 'in no uncertain terms' that Martin could not 'see the Red Book, nor could he ever imagine that it would be published.'
Pretty impressive, then, that it was. Read the rest of the piece here.
Is every one absolutely certain that Jung did all of the artwork? Mr. Shamdasani, the Jung family? Has anyone found any other art other work that is known to be Jung's?
Was he a secret self-taught artist?
Neither friend nor patients,nor family knew of artistic abilities?
Richard. Happy trolling. You should check out Shamdasani's "Cult Fictions." Devastating.
Eliz may have a scholarly foundation for her position, but it is clear from her comments that she has no experiential foundation for her position. Only after my own nervous breakdown, visionary experiences, and brush with psychosis at mid-life did I discover Jung's work. It was clear to me that he'd had similar profoundly moving experiences, and being of an inquiring scholarly mind, formed theories to make sense of it all. All I'm saying is you're really not qualified to judge if you haven't lived it. The burden of repeatible EXPERiment lies in our own EXPERience of the unconscious (hence the etymology).
It is true, however, that humans have a propensity to idolize figures such as Jung. But no one is qualified to insinuate this was Jung's self-promoting intent, it may be simply the un-individuated idolater that needs an idol that puts Jung on a pedistal.
Sweet Dreams.
Wow. He _was_ pretty spooky...communicating with his ancestors.
I've had to conclude Jung essentially came up with his own neo-pagan religion. Its particularly characteristic feature is that it makes no pretense of external truth, neither is it necessarily about mental wellness, but is rather a "deification" of the self and the phantasmagoria one might encounter in the inner life and dreams, often borrowing the language of ancient pagan religions. Jung's history reveals that this was consciously a reaction against Judeo-Christianity, especially the most orthodox forms, which he detested, Judaism and Catholicism. The Red Book seems to be basically the sacred scripture of Jung's cult of himself, a messiah figure. His idea and method was to help others to likewise formulate a cult of themself. He was a troubled person who seemed to veer toward madness at certain times, a creative genius, severely ethically challenged, able to present himself and his ideas in an attractive and polished way.
"Eliz" posted some statements on 9-21-2009 at 8:18 p.m. which might prove to be difficult to substantiate. Jung's own neo-pagan religion? Eliz implies that it is illegitimate because it makes no pretense of external truth. Is she speaking of scientifically verifiable, repeatable, measurable peer-reviewed truth, as applied to other more mainstream religions? That is a straw-man argument, set up to be knocked down with her dismissal of his work as a cult of self, the product of a creative genius madman. This from someone who is highly unlikely to have read Jung's Red Book. She would do well to watch out for the next attractive, polished creative genius madman to come along, that attractive, polished creative genius madman might try to sell her a war.
You are an idiot. You know nothing about Jung or his theories. I don't understand half of what you are saying because it's crazy. Jung gives us a way to find our true self, our true blueprint, and become all that we were meant to become - and if you understood any of this theories you would know that. He was not against the Jews ... far from it. Most of his closest associates at the time were Jewish. This was a man who had the guts to understand and confront the deepest part of his psyche, and come out on the other side transformed by it. That's what we all should strive to do. The Red Book is the Holy Grail, for by facing our darkest and deepest parts of our shadow (unconscious) we will truly find God. You, sadly, have never done that - or have the capacity to do that. Shame on you for trashing something you know absolutely nothing about. As i said - you're an idiot.
If you look at the article you will see that getting the Red Book published was nothing to do with Steve Martin but with Shamdasani of London. As the quote above shows Martin got nothing but a "no" from the Jung family. It was Shamdasani, the scholar, that did the work on this and persuaded them to let it come out.
I have read much about Jung's ideas about the Anima and Animus. It is, in this light, that I find the animosity that greets the Red Book quite understandable. It affirms the unmeasurable concept that some ideas (i.e. forms without substance) have the power to stir the depths of the unconscious psyche. Such words I read here "war" "shame" "detested" etc. But what really takes the cake "severely ethically challenged" - a euphamism of sorts? Obfuscation notwithstanding, he got to someone i.e. got his or her "goat." It amazes me how the ideas of a man who died in the early 1960s continue to animate friends and foes in another time. Thank you so very much!
Eliz has a firm scholarly foundation for her position. As I argued in my two books on Jung, The Jung Cult: Origins of a Charismatic Movement (Princeton University Press, 1994), and The Aryan Christ: The Secret Life of Carl Jung (Random House, 1997), from about 1914 Jung is more appropriately understood from the perspective of the history and sociology of religion as a charismatic prophet who was compelled by his personal spiritual visions (not psychosis) to reframe psychoanalysis into a cult of initiation (Jungian analysis) and rebirth (individuation) by basing it on the model of the Hellenistic (Aryan) mystery cults of pagan antiquity. I was gratified to learn from The NY Times Magazine article of 20 Sept. that fear of my "specter" influenced the Jung family to allow the editing and publishing of Jung's vatic Red Book. The article makes clear that to this day many Jungs and Jungians do not want this book made public. Why? I suspect it is because it will provide compelling evidence in support of the claims I made in my books.
The Philadelphia Film Festival announced it will open with the locally-shot and set Law Abiding Citizen and close with Precious: Based on the Novel 'Push' by Sapphire, by West Philly's Lee Daniels. This year marks the fest's 18 1/2 birthday ' wait, what? And a half? Usually the Film Fest takes place in the spring but when the Philadelphia Film Society split last year, TLA/Cinema Alliance's Ray Murray kept the season and renamed his venture CineFest, while the Film Society moved to October and retained the name. The fest takes place Thu., Oct. 15-Mon., Oct. 19 and features 28 films from 14 different countries. More after the jump' Law Abiding Citizen, from director F. Gary Gray, stars Gerard Butler as a man whose fam is brutally murdered. He's further outraged when D.A. Jamie Foxx lets the perpetrators off with a slap on the wrist. So what's a pissed off man to do? Obviously, plan a series of high-profile murders from the comfort of his own jail cell that derails the city itself. Check out the trailer below:
Loyal CP.net readers know that I'm super jazzed about Daniels' Precious, which recently took home the people's choice award for Best Picture at the Toronto International Film Festival (this is nothing to sneeze at, as the LA Times' the Envelope notes. Many people's choice award winners go on to Oscar gold). The story focuses on Precious, an obese teen living in '80s Harlem. She's pregnant for the second time by her father, and her mother is no better (Mo'nique already garnered Oscar buzz for her role). Precious cleaned up at this year's Sundance and our very own A.D. Amorosi talked to Daniel's about his film. The trailer looks amazing:
While the rest of the films haven't been announced yet, here's a preview of what's already on the docket from the press release:
Good Hair The highly anticipated film by Comedian Chris Rock explores the wonders of African-American hairstyles; in particular, the obsession African American women have with straightening their hair. The film includes commentary from such actresses as Nia Long, Raven Symone, Lauren London, and Meagan Goode. Red Riding The film is described as a series of three fictionalized accounts of the investigation into the Yorkshire Ripper, a brutal serial killer that stalked the Yorkshire area of England in the 1970s and 1980s. Shadow Billionaire After Larry Hillblom, founder of DHL, disappeared following a 1995 plane crash off his Micronesian island home, dozens of would be heirs came out of the woodwork to lay claim to his mega fortune. We Live in Public On the 40th anniversary of the Internet, We Live in Public tells the story of the effect the web is having on our society as seen through the eyes of "the greatest Internet pioneer you've never heard of", visionary Josh Harris. Read Gary Kramer's review from Silverdocs.
Here's why I love movie trailers: From Paris with Love will undoubtedly be terrible. There is no way that this movie is going to be good. And I'm not talking about good in the highest of cinematic terms, I'm thinking that this probably won't even be entertaining to watch with my hand stuffed in a giant tub of popcorn. And I'll bitch and moan about how bad it was. I'll get chastised for thinking that this movie would be awesome and be asked the question, "How in god's name did you think this was going to be good?" And I'll say, "But the trailer looked so cool!" And that's because I don't have to wade through shitty dialogue or a plot so hole-y it would make the Pope jealous. Instead I get two minutes of John Travolta in all of his Face/Off fucknutiness. 'But it is co-written by Luc Besson ' and it's directed by Pierre Morel and I really liked District B-13 ' and, and, and ' aw, who am I kidding? It's going to blow. But I'm totally going to to see it anyway.
Thrasher magazine's newest skate DVD, Under the Bridge,' will have its East Coast premiere at FDR Skate Park (Pattison Ave. & S. Broad St., 215-683-0205) tomorrow, Sept. 19 at noon for $5. Under the Bridge (High Speed Production) is directed by Preston Maigetter, and takes a historical look at DIY skateparks. It shows never-before-seen footage of FDR (the only East Coast park in the film, ahem) along with San Diego's Washington Street, San Pedro's Channel Street, Oakland's Bordertown and Burnside in Portland, Ore. The film also features skaters Christian Hosoi, Peter Hewitt and Dan Drehobl as well as plenty of local Philly skaters. The premiere will also include all-day access to live music from local bands like McRad and Vacant Progress, general skater-induced chaos and plenty of beer from Pabst Blue Ribbon. Local skater Johnny Mateu, who provided footage of FDR for the film, stresses that all the money made from the premiere goes directly back into the park. 'Every one of these parks is skater-run, skater-built, skater-designed and skater-funded," he says. "It's just us doing it for the love of it.' Their only requests: Bring beer money and leave your bikes at home.
City Paper welcomes Jonathan Wallis, assistant professor of art history at Moore College of Art and Design, to our Critical Mass team. His column, 'Perspective,' will run monthly in this space, bringing a critical eye to a visual art scene that continues to thrive in Philadelphia. Questions? E-mail Wallis at jswallis@gmail.com.
Brent Wahl, "Arrivals and Departures" The Earth completes one revolution on its axis every 24 hours. Brent Wahl's self-created world accomplishes this feat a lot faster ' about every 15 seconds.' It's a small, simple world physically, made up of everyday stuff ' aluminum foil, branches coated in glitter, some black foam cut into the shape of military bunkers and a scale model of a Le Corbusier building, all placed inside a circular floor with a backdrop of black construction paper. But technically and conceptually it's much more complex.' By modeling the structure off a zoetrope, with a number of creative alterations to the traditional format of the device, Wahl places us both inside and outside his world simultaneously; we are both mundane inhabitant and omniscient Olympian God. But there is more. As a mechanical device rotates the entire 360 degree environment at a constant, steady pace, a video camera placed at a fixed point inside the structure projects the changing (yet repeating) view of the inside of this desolate world onto a neighboring wall in the gallery. It's a fascinating contraption, and Wahl's creative ability to conjure up the extraordinary with ordinary materials (which the artist will recycle after the exhibition ends ' kudos) places his construction methods alongside other mad scientist-like artists such as Tim Hawkinson. To complete the effect in the installation, an audio track plays a combination of chirping birds and artillery bombardments from World War II, which adds considerable strength to the sensation of being 'in' the world when gazing at the projection on the wall.' Peter Weibel's 1995-6 installation, The Curtain of Lascaux, toyed with similar themes in metaphysics through projected screens that placed his audience in a participatory, yet illusory reality. But Wahl both chains us down in Plato's cave and releases us from its confined and deceptive reality in "Arrivals and Departures," and this double state of perspectival and ontological existence allows the viewer to enter an altogether different and unique metaphysical region via art. The scenic transcription that takes place from what is observed in the mechanism to what is witnessed on the adjacent wall is mesmerizing. None of the visible fastenings on the surfaces and walls of the zoetrope carry over to the projection. Instead, the experience is that of a confined perspective onto an actual realm where you either stand as the world passes by or travel past a static landscape through some form of locomotion. As glimmering trees, military bunkers and International-style architecture move across the screen, and bombs and birds reach your ears, it's hard to not think dark thoughts. Is this a land of Cold War devastation? Are we looking at what could have happened to our planet if mutual deterrence did not hold back the massive destructive power of atomic energy and radiation at mid-century? Wahl's world is devoid of human life (except for us), and suggests an experience of time travel to a spooky, enchanted nuclear winter somewhere in a past that has become an imagined future. As a coda, one more element to "Arrivals and Departures" provoked curiosity: a serendipitous correspondence with the exhibition addressing Marcel Duchamp's 'tant donn's at the Philadelphia Museum of Art. There is a shared technical and optical conversation between these two exhibitions worth noting. Access and deniability of fields of vision, the fabrication of imagined spaces that are observable but unreachable, as well as rotating mechanisms within the installations (both with elements that glitter and sparkle ' Wahl's trees and Duchamp's waterfall) all play out in various ways in these two works, and placing them in a historical and artistic tandem is rich with potential meanings and conceptual puzzles. The PMA exhibit exposes the inner workings of Duchamp's installation and suggests a strong connection to the vicarious positioning of oneself as both 'inside' and 'outside' the realm of Wahl's lugubrious world. Luckily, in both cases, this access in no way diminishes the mystery of the work, nor the tensions between the ontological states of the viewer. There is much to ponder in "Arrivals and Departures," and successful exhibitions not only stimulate the aesthetic response in us, they usually generate more questions than answers.' Wahl's work left me scratching my head, in a good way.
voxpopuligallery.org
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| photos by Patrick Rapa |
You gotta pay the troll toll. I was secretly skeptical about the whole thing. I love It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia ' probably the funniest, most artistically brave show on TV ' but the live show idea sounded a little padded. An extended version of the musical "Nightman Cometh" episode done live? Awesome. But short. And rounding it out with a clip from the straight-to-DVD Christmas special and a screening of a brand new episode? The show sold out in .2 seconds ' were we just going to, you know, watch TV together? Well, let me tell you: Embedded in a giddy, maybe drunk capacity crowd at the Tower is an amazing way to watch TV. It was a huge, communal lovefest for the show (and for Philly). And the clip from the Christmas special was, not kidding, was kinda brilliant. Subversive holiday gags are commonplace, but this one went really far ' and it was sickly beautiful. And sick. And then there's the actual performance of The Nightman Cometh episode and musical...
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Which was amazing. To appreciate a piece of theater so (intentionally) terrible you have to love the characters. The songs are insane ' hilariously performed, with some genuinely strong singing ' because they come from the twisted mind of wild card Charlie (Charlie Day). He's no less sleazy, really, than any of the other proprietors of Paddy's Pub, but you gotta pull for a guy who'd write this lavish, confused musical just to win the heart of a girl. Danny Devito, as the Troll/Frank, was a crowd favorite. So was Rob McElhenney as Mac but mostly as the cat-eyed, karate-chopping Nightman. Glenn Howerton and Kaitlin Olson's roles were a lot less flashy, but they nailed their parts (especially when it came to singing). I love that there were parts for Artemis and the Coffee Shop Waitress. I love that the ushers' shirts said "Charlie Work" on the back. l loved it. See Also: Q&A with Rob McElhenney.
incredible. effing incredible. was at the 11 showing and was not dissapointed. Thought as the writer did that it may be a let-down but it was awesome. The impressive part was that everyone remained in character and didn't flub any lines or anything. the episode was magical too. Plus we DVR'ed the season premier which we can watch tonight. Flip-flip-flipadelphia!
It really was very good -- it made me laugh and I was proud that TV actors are good on the stage.
I was at the 8:00 show. i dont know if the band played again for the 11 o'clock showing but i was a little on the fence when i first heard them but after they got into a few songs i started to like them. who were they again?
Under an ornate wooden carapace. Winding around the labyrinthine pathways of The Magic Gardens the sound of rousing country blues follows after us, softly building as continuous waves curve along the living corals of Isaiah Zagar's artwork to bring us to the fore where the band ' part of TJ Kong and The Atomic Bomb complemented by members of Jubel Jenkins ' stands under an ornate wooden carapace. Sans microphone, Kong's froggy voice, rich with character, powerfully projects outward with relaxed ease as the accompaniments- cello, violin, accordion, and standing bass- rise together with mirthful glee, the synergy at its height on the track, Everyone We Know, where the cello weeps in slow measure throughout while Kong leads with trilling guitar rhythms as his harmonica busily sings to the frenetic dance of the violin. A chorus of subdued melancholy rises up from the string pieces while Kong softly strums on a slow number, singing, 'I'll trample the flowers by my own grave, but they'll only bloom again,' his signature vocals instilling nuances through expert tonality. Fittingly, the music is tinged with malaise during this song about 'the whole world going dry,' while Magic Gardens' plethora of repurposed beer bottles surround us. Though not too dour, the pulse quickly shoots back up on the next track, the music returning to an approximation of convivial times one could imagine Mr. Zagar and his friends experienced in emptying all those bottles.
photo by Brion Shreffler
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| wallyg via Flickr |
This guy, one in a series of Jun Kaneko's Heads sculptures, will be up in City Hall's courtyard through October 24. It's massive ' 11 feet tall ' pretty, and super Zen. It's part of a larger, impressive collaboration between the Opera Co. of Philadelphia, the Philadelphia Museum of Art, the Kimmel Center, Locks Gallery and the city to showcase Kaneko's works, titled "On the Wings of Music: Art, Opera & You." (The one in the picture, by the way, was taken when it temporarily lived in New York City.) For more information on his other works showing around the city, check the specific venues listed above. They're not all straight sculpture ' his work with the Opera Co., for example, includes set design and costumes for its production of Madama Butterfly, which runs from October 9-18.
So cool! I love it!
Want to see the head in Philly? Here he (?) is in the City Hall Courtyard. http://twitpic.com/ilnw6. Thanks Meredith at GPTMC who took the photo. All this art around town inspired me to get a ticket to Madama Butterfly.
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| Knopf, 336 pp., $25.95, Sept. 1 |
Tassie Keltjin is a normal college student, pretty clueless, but struggling to carve out an identity while trying to fit her family back home in to her newly realized bigger world. What makes her different is that Lorrie Moore is telling her story, which means all bets are off in terms of what's to be expected in a coming-of-age tale. Moore's first novel since 1986's Anagrams is ambitious: an intricately crafted character study of a person who doesn't know who she is yet and an exploration of love and selfishness, what it means to do the right thing, and the ways naivet' can wreak havoc, all occurring in the immediate aftermath of Sept. 11, 2001. Tassie gets a job as a part-time nanny for Sarah Brink, a restaurateur who adopts Mary-Emma, a biracial 2-year-old who wins hearts and unknowingly evokes debates about bigotry and white privilege and responsibility. As Tassie gets to know Sarah and to love Mary-Emma, she also falls for a mysterious foreign student and loses touch with her family in the country, even as her brother is contemplating joining the army. She begins to suspect that none of the new people in her life is what he or she seems, but clues in too late, of course, and is hurt many times over. Moore keeps all of these plots crackling along with her resplendent prose; as Tassie seems to lose everything she's gained, Moore's language captures her despair: 'When misfortune accumulated, . . . it strafed you to the thinness of a nightgown, sheared you to the sheerness of a slip. . . . Life was ungraspable because it would not stay still. It skittered and blew. It was a mound of random trash, even as you moved through the hours like a ghost invited to enjoy a sparkling day at the beach.' [260] The prose is lovely, every page a wealth of gorgeous phraseology, which more than makes up for the bits of plot that seem randomly stuck in, such as the reintroduction of Sarah's husband or Tassie's roommate's near-poisoning. A Gate at the Stairs tackles big subjects through the lens of a relatively small world, and mostly succeeds swimmingly. Even if it doesn't all tie up neatly at the end, it doesn't matter: With Moore, it's all about the journey. Lorrie Moore reads from and signs copies of A Gate at the Stairs Tue., Sept. 22, 7:30 p.m., $14, Free Library, Central Branch, 1901 Vine St., 215-567-4341, freelibrary.org.
City Paper welcomes Jonathan Wallis, assistant professor of art history at Moore College of Art and Design, to our Critical Mass team. His column, "Perspective," will run monthly in this space, bringing a critical eye to a visual art scene that continues to thrive in Philadelphia. Questions? E-mail Wallis at jswallis@gmail.com. PART 1: Chad Stayrook, "Shooting for the Stars"
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| Mallary Johnson |
On the night of the opening for 'September at Vox Populi,' visitors were privy to a performance by Chad Stayrook, who spent the evening busily preparing for and attempting the launch of a self-crafted rocket as part of his solo exhibition, "Shooting for the Stars." From the initial pre-launch sequence where he checked off squares on a piece of paper in earnest, to the final countdown sequence, Stayrook's performance contained a Goldilocks-like balance of action, suspense, humor and drama. With his pre-flight ritual complete, Stayrook went from technician to cosmonaut, removing his blue workman's outfit and changing into a space suit (consisting of a pair of moon boots and a very tight and uncomfortable-looking rubbery white get-up), whereupon he entered his homemade rocket. With the aid of a smoke machine that emitted the necessary fumes from the bottom of his four-panel cardboard contraption, the wannabe rocketeer went through a countdown and, with a rattle and some shaking, his rocket teetered and then hit the floor of the gallery ' hard. After recovering from the impact Stayrook exited the broken rocket, removed his Science 101 rubber goggles, grabbed a megaphone and announced to the crowd, 'We have a failure to launch.' But the success of his performance, and the rest of the exhibition, derives precisely from this failure. The theme of personal struggle against larger forces, gravity and the complexity of physics involved with launching a rocket on the one hand, and the resistance one meets in trying to be successful as an artist in today's society on the other, is not difficult to grasp. But the means by which Stayrook enacts the 'dream' of success gives the metaphor and the show its charge. The whimsical cardboard rocket that ascends on its apparatus through a touch-sensitive sensor on the floor with the aid of compressed air (that's the closest you are going to get to a successful rocket launch in the show), and a chair suspended by ropes and chains meant to simulate weightlessness and present the optical illusion of high-speed cosmic travel via a video projection, allow Stayrook to take us with him over the hump and into a world of accomplishment that is still, it seems, partially imagined. This isn't the first one-man show in Philadelphia this season to deal with a rocket launch. Tavares Strachan's exhibit earlier this summer at the ICA also involved the preparation and launch of a rocket through rudimentary tools, methods, and materials. But whereas Strachan takes himself very seriously, the fallibility of Stayrook's project makes its failure less of a tragedy and more a commentary on the personal drive to succeed and the ability to laugh at one's pitfalls. Yet, Stayrook manages to combine well-crafted DIY-style sculptures, meticulous drawings on graph paper, and software-generated video sequences seamlessly, which is not easy to do. There is a flow to the works in the exhibition that reveals his talents with sculpture, installation, and curatorial practice, and this draws attention to aspects of the exhibition that might otherwise be overlooked by the dramatic presence of the broken rocket. His simulation of an event that took place in early 2008, when two satellites collided over northern Siberia and spread a large of amount of debris into the orbital current above our planet's atmosphere, reminds us that the potential for dangerous collisions of objects just outside our range of vision is constant. Given an elegant narrative account through two LCD screens that chart the trajectories of the satellites and run loops of the collision and the post-impact debris, the crash's inclusion in the show raises serious questions: How many objects currently orbit the earth? How much debris is out there? Will the orbital ring soon become our new ecological bane, like the nomadic floating barge of Long Island garbage, or the trash vortex in the Pacific? Along with the obstacles and struggles that come with choosing a career as an artist, Stayrook's show also reminds us that caring for the planet is no longer confined to the terrestrial. Come back tomorrow for Part 2 of "30 Days Hath September at Vox Populi," wherein Wallis reviews Brent Wahl's "Arrival and Departures."
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