In 1988 the veteran conductor Nicolas Slonimsky, having built a career on the most experimental of repertoires, sat at the piano to record a ditty about a constipation remedy. The music was his, but he had lifted the words – verbatim – from an advertisement that had appeared many years earlier in the Saturday Evening Post. ‘Children cry for Castoria!’ Slonimsky...
Duchamp Is My Lawyer: The Polemics, Pragmatics and Poetics of UbuWeb by Kenneth Goldsmith. Perhaps the internet doesn’t so much reboot the avant-garde as make the whole concept obsolete: it has its own home-grown provocateurs in the form of trolls and shitposters and arguably its own culture, the emergent contours of which have become visible over recent years in new visual languages of gifs and emojis, and in exponential layers of ironic memes. With an online world so disorienting and surreal, why do we need actual surrealists?