Takahide Hori spent four years making the 30-minute film Junk Head 1, and you can see the love that went into crafting its grimy subterranean future and sculpting the bizarre creatures that inhabit it. It follows a human sent underground to investigate a world filled with freakish people and vicious monsters.
You can read the backstory for Hori's Junk Head setting on his website, or you can just sit back and enjoy the madness. He’s also currently raising funds on IndieGoGo so that he can devote his time to making a Junk Head sequel.
This is my part of the TOP presentations at the TATE, about my practice and interest in movie dialogs about smell. I am interested how we are able to distinguish between smells and yet we forget how fortunate to be able to smell scents. I wanted to create something quite simple, light hearted and funny.
FLARF, projection with crystal balls, gourds and fun things.
Experiments have yielded fruitful deductions: cannot really project “on” a crystal ball unless, as Nick our AV suite technician suggested, you sand one side of it so it’s opaque. However, projecting through a crystal ball does yield interesting results - different effects depending on if you use the ball or the more oblong glass stand. One piece of glass will unfocus the projection, two pieces will re-focus it. Projecting on a mirrored gourd cast shards of light everywhere.
Need to: project with mirror, see how reflections will work. Also consider making an apparatus for projection through the crystal balls (FILTER FOR YOUR REALITY).
The territory regarding one’s own personalised universe is something of an oxymoron. How can we investigate a territory that pulses, metamorphises and staggers, like the Bacchus of practices, through multi-coloured doors into an infinite number of worlds? Yet this “concrete” world of our physical reality is also a shimmering metaverse of infinite references. We dive into the schizophrenic mind and sneak through the tall stalks of Richard Dadd’s fairy world, we lap into the shores of Madge Gill’s spirit guide drawings. Tripping, we fall into the Krypto-verse of Richard Kelley, leer past the Chapman Brothers’ pseudo-cultural trappings and pose, etched into William Blake’s spiritual imagination.
Last month, I was researching the vaporwave music genre and from there discovered philosopher Nick Land and through him Georges Bataille who was then referenced in our Perversion of Philosophy seminar. One particular vaporwave article by Dummymag was by Adam Harper and when I went on his blog, he had written a damning critique of Oneohtrix Point Never’s track Still Life (Betamale), which I was also writing about in my essay. Elsewhere, I investigated the polytopia of the Space Collective and became interested in writings of artist and theorist Daniel Rourke. During the Vestige event at the Design Museum I discovered his essay on sci-fi writer Philip K. Dick in the exhibition pamphlet. I sent him my essay The Valley of the Uncanny on twitter and he replied with “You might just be the only person on Earth who could narrate my interests over the last 5 years. Uncanny to see them in one place” which is funny because it’s uncanny, haha, get it?
Through a random tumblr quote from Jorge Luis Borges I found the French writer’s short story Tlön, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius, which appeared again in Lawrence Weschler’s afternotes as a reference to Mr. Wilson’s Cabinet of Wonder, a Pulitzer-finalist nonfiction book recommended to us by Dan Smith, our territory of practice tutor. And then there is Object Orientated Ontology: Ian Bogost in his book Alien Phemenology or What It’s Like to Be a Thing spends a considerable amount of time discussing the theories of Bruno Latour, and I so happen to have a PDF of his essay We Have Never Been Modern open on my Safari tab because my essay tutor Maria Walsh recommended it along with her own essay titled I Object or I OBJECT (I can’t figure out which) in the November edition of Art Monthly.
It seems that my own personalised universe is in constant flux and forming almost in spite of me, as if all my seemingly separate and detached interests are actually conjoined in some bodily way, some conspiracy of the uncanny. An uncanny conspiracy of the object. My essay wrote itself, almost, like a self-constructed contemporary mythology. Perversion, perverse, pervert, subvert, subversion, version, deluge, delusion, illusion, fusion, destruction, and perversion again. The Perversion of Ideology, like Žižek says. I planted the seed, and now it has gone forth on its own, zigzagging through the metamodern uncertainty of the here and now (and maybe the future). Maybe I can thus call my work generative, generative art, if you will, that exists and thrives, responds and reacts to a generative, glitching, universe that keeps on GIFing in loops and loops and repeats on end.
It started somewhere in the beginning, before Mr. Wilson’s Museum of Jurassic Technology in a myriad and proliferation of Wunderkammern throughout the ages and yet the cabinet of curiosity is still here, eviscerating the wonder from our veins. Only now the cabinets are our universes, and our curiosities reach their fingers into the metaphysical.
The territory regarding one’s own personalised universe is something of an oxymoron. How can we investigate a territory that pulses, metamorphises and staggers, like the Bacchus of practices, through multi-coloured doors into an infinite number of worlds? Yet this “concrete” world of our physical reality is also a shimmering metaverse of infinite references.
Perhaps it is as Jorge Luis Borges writes: “There is no need to build a labyrinth when the entire universe is one.”