Tapetenwechsel

Intermezzo (Yom HaAtzmaut)

2008-05-08T17:29:00.007+01:00

Wir stehen erst am Anfang - Ausblick / Dieses Buch ist ein Plädoyer, in der Auseinandersetzung mit postbürokratischen und posttayloristischen Organisationsformen bescheidener zu sein. Statt der bei vielen Managern beliebten Ausrufezeichen hinter den Rezepten für die Gestaltung neuer Organisationsformen wären nicht selten Fragezeichen angebracht. Unsicherheit und Verunsicherung - in den flexibilitätsorientierten Unternehmen ein allgegenwärtiges Phänomen - sind auch für den Macher, Betrachter und Berater postbürokratischer Organisationen angesagt. Labilität von Strukturen, lose Kopplungen von organisationsinternen Beziehungen und die Orientierung an Flexibilität statt an Stabilität haben zur Folge, daß sowohl generelle Aussagen als auch allgemeine Ratschläge in bezug auf Wirtschaftsorganisationen schwieriger werden.

Einiges läßt sich - aller Bescheidenheit zum Trotz - jedoch konstatieren: Der tayloristische Siegeszug ist vorbei. In allen untersuchten Unternehmen herrscht Einigkeit, daß die wachsende Komplexität in Wirtschaft und Gesellschaft "nicht durch noch mehr Richtlinien, noch mehr Regeln, noch mehr Kontrolle und noch mehr Bürokratie" in den Griff zu bekommen ist. Es kommt indessen nicht, wie uns bestimmte Postbürokraten glauben machen wollen, zu einer neuen Dominanz von Flexibilität, Innovation und Wandel. Die Gefahr, an einem "Zuviel an Möglichkeiten" zugrunde zu gehen und die Machtkämpfe nicht mehr kontrollieren zu könnnen, zwingt Unternehmen, Auswege aus dem Dilemma gleichzeitiger Flexibilitäts- und Stabilitätsanforderungen anzustreben.

Unternehmenskulturen, Kontextsteuerung, relativ offene Technisierung von Abläufen und Externalisierung von Unsicherheiten sind Indizien, daß wir es auf verschiedenen Ebenen mit einem neuen Mischverhältnis von Wandel und Stabilität zu tun haben. Statt eines völlig neuen, einzig auf Wandel und Selbststeuerung setzenden Organisationstyps handelt es sich bei postbürokratischen Organisationen um einen neuartigen Zusammenbau von herkömmlichen stabilitätsorientierten Organisationsprinzipien mit Elementen einer eleganteren dezentralen, flexiblen Steuerung und Steuerung und der Zuweisung von begrenzter Autonomie an die Mitarbeiter und Mitarbeiterinnen.

Dabei geht es um mehr als nur ein erneutes Austarieren zwischen Stabilität und Flexibilität. Es tritt ein qualitativer Sprung in der Verknüpfung dieser beiden Mechanismen auf. Nur so läßt sich erklären, daß im gleichen Moment Unternehmen in kleinere Einheiten zerfallen und sich durch Vernetzungen zu machtvollen Konglomeraten entwickeln; daß Technisierung gleichzeitig Komplexität vereinfacht und Komplexität steigert; daß diesselben Organisationen sich weiter ausdifferenzieren und durch Enthierarchisierung und Dezentralisierung entdifferenzieren; daß postbürokratische Unternehmen sowohl die Mitarbeiter ermächtigen als auch das Management in seinen zentralen Funktionen belassen; daß Unternehmen in der Lage sind, externes Chaos produktiv umzusetzen, ohne selbst an den Flexibilitätsanforderungen zugrunde zu gehen.

/ Von Stefan Kühl.

ou, si l'on préfère

2008-05-08T16:28:00.002+01:00

Acte un
Une voix (off):
Au nord, rien. Au sud, rien.
A l'est, rien. Au l'ouest, rien.
Au cente rien. Le rideau tombe.
Fin de l'acte un.

Acte deux
Une voix (off):
Au nord, rien. Au sud, rien.
A l'est, rien. Au l'ouest, rien.
Au centre rien. Le rideau tombe.

( ... )

Au centre, une teute.
Le rideau tombe. Fin de l'acte deux.

Acte trois et dernier
Une voix (off):
Au nord, rien. Au sud, rien.
A l'est, rien. Au l'ouest, rien.
Au centre, une tente,
et,
devant la teute,
une ordonnance en train
de cirer une paire
de bottes
avec du cirage "lion noir!"

Le rideau tombe.
Fin de l'acte trois et dernier.

[Auteur ininconnu. Appris vers 1947, remémoré en 1973]

Le Corps (L'Autre)

2008-05-07T21:23:00.004+01:00

... //

are there people you care about? / what is your wish to them? / shall they share your experience? / do you want to share their's? ...

Wie Freud häufig betonte, ist das Schlüsselmerkmal der Angst auslösenden Träume, in denen der Träumer nackt vor einer Menschenmenge steht, die merkwürdige Tatsache, dass niemand die Nacktheit zur Kenntnis zu nehmen scheint: die Menschenmenge steht, die Menschen gehen einfach vorbei als wäre alles normal ... Ist das nicht der alptraumhafte Szene alltäglich rassistischer Gewalt ähnlich, deren Zeuge ich 1992 in Berlin wurde? Zuerst schien mir, dass auf der anderen Seite der Straße ein Deutscher und ein Vietnamese wie zum Spiel einen ausgeklügelten Tanz umeinander aufführten - ich brauchte einige Zeit, um zu begreifen, dass ich Zeuge eines Falls rassistischer Belästigung war: Wohin auch immer sich der perplexe und verängstigte Vietnamese wendete, der Deutsche versperrte ihm den Weg, hier in Berlin.

Der Grund für mein anfängliches Mißverständnis war ein doppelter: Zuerst die Tatsache, dass der Deutsche seine Belästigung in seltsam kodifizierter Weise durchführte, bestimmte Grenzen respektierte und nicht so weit ging, den Vietnamesen direkt anzugreifen; recht betrachtet hat er ihn eigentlich nicht berührt, er versperrte ihm bloß den Weg. Der zweite Grund war natürlich die Tatsache, dass die Tatsache, dass die vorübergehenden Passanten den Vorfall ignorierten - oder besser zu ignorieren vorgaben -, die Augen abwandten und weitereilten, als wäre nichts passiert. Ist der Unterschied zwischen dieser "harmlosen" Belästigung und dem brutalen körperlichen Angriff eines neonazistischen Skinheads alles, was von der Unterscheidung "Zivilisation und Barbarei" übriggeblieben ist? Und war nicht diese "harmlose" Belästigung in gewisser Weise sogar die schlimmere? Sie ermöglichte den Vorübergehenden, den Vorfall zu ignorieren und als etwas Gewöhnliches zu akzeptieren, was im Falle eines direkten und brutalen körperlichen Angriffs nicht gegangen wäre. Und ich bin versucht, zu behaupten, eine ähnliche Ignoranz, eine Art moralische Epoche setzte auch dann ein, wenn wir dazu geführt werden, die anderen als Homo sacer zu behandeln. Wie aber kommen wir aus dieser misslichen Lage heraus?

/ Von Slavoj Zîzêk.

Le Corps (La Blessure Corporelle)

2008-05-06T00:18:00.001+01:00

... //

Excerpt #1 /
From the earliest recorded history of the photographic encounter, Africa has made for a fascinating and elusive subject, at once strange, intoxicating, carnal, primitive, wild, luminous. At first the desire to record the exotic, mysterious beauty of the black continent may have provided the incentive to invent a kind of sport in which a hunterlike figure wielding congeries of instruments stalks a gamelike subject — suspended between an abyss of indeterminacy and plenitude — waiting to be literally captured. This early phase of the photographic sport (dominated by ethnographers, prospectors, speculators, prosecutors of the colonial enterprise) yielded a huge archive of visual tropes about Africa that have persisted in the popular imagination. Today, hunter and game remain more or less the same, except that the result has become not only outlandish but also has acquired a quality of myth impossible to dislodge from the real. In this latter phase, Africa has been transformed into a wasteland of the bizarre and outrageous.

No other cultural landscape has had a more problematic association with the photographic medium: its apparatus, various industries, orders of knowledge, and hierarchies of power. As already mentioned, the act of photographing Africa has often been bound up with a certain conflict of vision: between how Africans see their world and how others see that world. In a way, this is a clash of lenses, a struggle to locate and represent Africa by two committed but disparate sensibilities — one intensely absorbed in its social and cultural world, the other passing through it, fleetingly, on one assignment or another. The latter sensibility has come to represent specters that haunt Africa. It is constituted around an accumulation of myths. This photographic sensibility works on assumptions based not so much on what it sees but on a preordained, fragmented, and internalized view of the world Africans seem to occupy. This view feeds a phantom essence and releases it as a readymade canon of fascination and repulsion. The image of Africa that I am describing, and which has overwhelmed every other pictorial value, has been produced as much from processes of estrangement as from positions of engagement.

Excerpt #2 /
I want us to direct attention to the multiple ways of representing African life and space, to enunciate forms of visual practice that open us up to the facts that we not only share the same space but also the same time. In other words, I am speaking about visual practices that recognize coevalness, that reach beyond the stock images that have endured until now as the iconography of the “abandoned” continent.

In light of this exhibition inquiry, how might the photographic apparatus — that is, any digital or mechanical, duplicating instrument — engage the continent's vast and complex visual world without resorting to the clichéd metaphors of the media's horror index? This inquiry is as much about photography as it is about representation. Wherever and whenever photography engages Africa, it invents a pathology of spectrality and transience. Each pathology in turn invents its own panacea: pity, infantilization, paternalism, or the reanimation of the grotesque. It could be said that photography's greatest accomplishment is the vast encyclopedia of cures that have followed each of its forays into the continent. Whether we are witnessing visual splendor or astounding civil disorder, Live Aid and other charity events will always be on the near horizon to intercede. This exhibition is not about any of that. It is not about disorder. Nor is it about the collapse of civility, nor genocidal wars. It is not a recapitulation of pathologies.

Excerpt #3 /
This exhibition is in part devised to ask pertinent questions about the role of images in the public narratives of the African self and spaces within a changing global image ecology. It is not centered on a specific dispute, nor is its critique simplistic. The exhibition comprises discreet, modest, and forceful propositions on how to look at Africa, how artists work with the tool of photography to trace the arc of a different social reality that is both deliberately pictorial and narrative in approach and at the same time questions the historical dependence on narratives of anomie. African artists and photographers are looking at the unfolding drama of contemporary life and experience in Africa with a fine-tuned alertness. They are examining and analyzing the dizzying processes of spatial transformation, massive transition, and social adaptation that make up the varied realities of diverse groups: urban and rural, formal and informal communities. The artists' penetrating insight provides the remarkable story of this project.

Each of the artists has either taken up a problematic or focused attention on social subjects. For instance, a number of artists explore the interstices of urban communities undergoing transformation, while others use very simple mechanisms of portraiture to spotlight the self-expression of individuals portrayed or deploy the artifice of fashion stylization to draw out values of individual identity. Overall, the works assembled here aid us in examining a different context of image making that is as African in its aesthetic intentions as in its ethical concerns. Given the prevailing, antiphotogenic gaze of these artists, the exhibition most certainly denies the viewer the violent spectacle of deprivation and depravity that has constituted the signature visual image of Africa. In fact, the works evidence a subtle yet substantive critique of such images. Not because there is no deprivation or depravity in contemporary Africa, but because the metaphors of violence and poverty cheapen our understanding of the cultural context. The paradox is that images of suffering — which function as a sort of shorthand for neither looking properly nor seeing Africans in normal human terms — do not ameliorate the disasters which they purportedly engage. On the contrary, they have compounded and skewed the photographic imperatives of a mediatized fascination with the continent's “abnormality” as the primal scene of global media's masochist pleasure, its unrelenting horror vacui. This is why quite often what the viewer encounters in the works produced by artists and photographers in this exhibition is a kind of antiphotogenic and antispectacular approach to making images.

/ By Okwui Enwezor, ICP Adjunct Curator.

// The text belongs to the catalogue for the exhibition Snap Judgments: New Positions in Contemporary African Photography and has been taken from icp.org

L'Appartment (emménager)

2008-04-08T21:27:00.000+01:00

object / woman wants a man and not a fact
no sweat / man who needs a mate to do the act
not yet / woman needs her time do to her thing
object / man must find a job to buy the ring
too quick / rushes to the vicar for a date
feels sick / one too many lagers before eight
new chick / bridesmaid looking well hearted
swift kick / married life done before it’s started

object / man who needs a family to fit in
no sweat / throw him to the sharks and let him swim
not yet / teach him how to step into the fire
object / take away the reason to be hired
too quick / saw a little more but not enough
feels sick / politician sea is kind of rough
new chick / politician wife is pushing in
swift kick / married to the man to see him win

hold that / meaning would be peace if you would hear
one step / closer and the sound would disappear
high-tech / telescopic link into the mind
why set / limits to the truth that you could find?

death-race / all they want to do is run you down
new taste / sell you something sweet to bring you round
new home / mortgage you a room inside a wall
new tongue / govern you with tone you never saw

object / prices of the shares are getting low
no sweat / sell ‘em to a man who doesn’t know
not yet / maybe they’ll be better in a while
object / take the money off him with a smile
too quick / man, he made the killing on the spot
feels sick / you should have had some faith in what you’ve got
new chick / blame it on the girl who didn’t see
swift kick / if anybody’s wrong it isn’t me

cat goal / money in the bank and in the house
cash flow / money in the city and the spouse
streamline / kids are getting more but learning less
dreamtime / doctors give us something for the stress ...

L'Appartment (déménager)

2008-04-08T21:26:00.001+01:00

for a start one may define three basic strategic positions to operate from when it comes down to managing the strategic challenge of change:

- leading
- anticipating
- reacting

each is accompanied by specific events and each with its own strategic consequences and their imperatives.

L'Appartment (d'un espace inutile)

2008-04-08T21:26:00.000+01:00

minimal impact /

Philip Glass is crouched on his living room floor, staring at a television three feet away and suffering through Orbital's music video for The Box. The first five notes - dah-dah-dah-dah-dumm - are obviously inspired by Glass, just like the visuals, which borrow heavily from the Glass-scored film Koyaanisqatsi. After 30 seconds, Glass is losing interest, shifting his feet, turning away from the set. "It's really not very edgy, is it?" It's a cold, gray summer day, with rain pouring down the sheets, and I'm in Glass's East Village apartment, delivering a message from Orbital's Paul Hartnoll. "I wouldn't know what to say, just thanks very much," Hartnoll asked me to relate in a sincere, meaningful whisper. "It must be nice for him, to know he's influencing people who are making music now, do you know what I mean? Like if I was 30 years older, and someone who's 29 said I'd been influencing them for the past 10 years. Well, I'd be very pleased, I think." Glass doesn't look pleased at all. After Orbital, he listens to a little bit of the Orb, then µ-zig, and then Underworld - all musicians who claim him as an influence. But a listening session that started off a few minutes ago with an optimistic "Impress me!" has turned into disappointment. "I hear Glass-like music all the time," he says. "I don't care if it sounds like me - what I want to hear is something exciting."

At age 60, he's a household name: a question on Jeopardy, a cartoon in The Daily News, a cameo on The Simpsons. He's constantly working on high-profile projects, including an upcoming collaboration with Mick Jagger, a score for Martin Scorsese's Kundun and a new opera with Robert Wilson. He's as famous as a living composer can get and still be filed under "classical." With 35 CDs behind him and a full calendar ahead, Glass still performs 60 to 80 concerts a year, to an average of a thousand people a night - including at least one concert every year in London, which has always welcomed him, even when New York hasn't. Thirty years ago, Glass was driving a cab, working as a plumber and composing music in his spare time. On a good night, he'd perform to 25 people, and in a typical review, he'd see his music called "artistically limited" and "merely trivial." At the time, Glass, along with Steve Reich, Terry Riley and La Monte Young, were called minimalists; and though they all hated the label, it stuck. All four were interested in jazz, in drones, in repitition, in Eastern music. All four were interested in creating something new. By 1970, critics had begun to notice, calling one Reich concert "purely musical." But minimalism was still a downtown phenomenon, barely breaking into the uptown world of museums and concert halls. In 1973, all that changed when the Boston Symphony Orchestra brought Reich's thundering, monotonous "Four Organs" to a subscritption audience at Carnegie Hall, hoping something would happen. It did: the audience booed so loudly the musicians couldn't hear each other, and one woman rushed up the aisle, beat her head against the stage and screamed, "Stop, stop, I confess!" The minimalists had arrived.

"The situation was really a set-up," says Reich, whose music has been collected in a new 10-CD box set, Works 1965-1995 (Nonesuch). "Basically, you had a lot of blue-haired ladies coming down to see a Boston Symphonie Orchestra concert, the rest of the program being Mozart and Liszt. When they heard Four Organs, with one dominant 11th chord on four screaming Farfisa mini-compact organs for 20-odd-minutes - obviously, it's going to raise some hackles. But that's not why we're talking now. Because a lot of people did like it. That's why it's still around." At an amusement park just outside Buffalo this summer, Orbital's headlining Lollapalooza set begins with a duet of rapid-fire keyboard arpeggios (à la Glass) set slightly out of phrase (à la Reich). Like 14-year-old Lindsay Britton, who calls this Lollapalooza "the best birthday present i ever had," the crowd is mostly in their teens, waving their arms to the music, just excited to be at a real concert. They're far too young to notice the references, but Orbital's Paul Hartnoll hears Glass in his own music, "in bits and pieces, definitely"; he hears Reich too, but on "a subtler level, in that sort of counter-rhythm." As a headliner, Hartnoll isn't surprised to see that he's appealing to 14-year-olds, but he hasn't gotten used to thinking of his band as mainstream, hearing his songs played on the airplane, or in his hotel room "every time you turn the telly on." Hartnoll has been around long enough to feel old, and to hear the music changing underneath his feet. At first he didn't like hardcore techno, which to him just sounded like breakbeats and fast, squeaky voices; over time, he's seen it evolve into forms like drum'n'bass, toured with techno's Mike Paradinas, and started to enjoy it. But for Paradinas, who's recorded a couple dozen singles and CDs under the aliases µ-zig, Diesel M, Jake Slazenger, Kid Spatula and Tusken Raiders, it didn't take any time at all to come around to minimalism. "The first time I heard Philip Glass was in 1987," says the London-based musician. "I was playing in a rock band, it was over a P.A. in the hall. It was Music In Twelve Parts, Part One. And I thought, what the fuck is this? It's brilliant, and it hasn't changed for 12 minutes."

At 24, Paradinas (who prefers Glass's older organ work to his more recent orchestral pieces) is too young to remember much before the '80s - but he's significantly older than the teenagers who are just starting to record, people who "haven't even heard of Philip Glass, I can tell you that." Paradinas is a big fan of Reich, too, whose influence is there in the shifting time signatures of his Burnt Sienna. And at 38, Underworld's Rick Smith has been playing piano longer than Paradinas has been alive. He's older than Hartnoll; now, with only a fraction of Orbital's success and with a family to support, he's just grateful he can pay his bills. Smith's still recovering from a disastrous 1989, when an earlier version of Underworld lost its manager, its record company and any possibility of paying back its £80,000 debt. So when he got the chance to turn a 1990 Underworld track into a tampon commercial, he was more than happy to do it. "The marriage of art and commerce is what keeps me jumping," says Smith. "I'm being brutally honest here: you have to marry the two. I'm a working musician - that's the word, working. You have to put food in your mouth. The first Underworld record, we sold 500 copies from the back of a car. And I never imagined we'd sell as many as we did." Nowadays they're selling many thousands more, and since the soundtrack to Trainspotting included the group's Born Slippy, they're being courted by any number of American labels. But financial pressures are always there, and to relieve them, Smith listens to Reich's pulsating Music For 18 Musicians. "It's like a safe place for me," says Smith. "I put that record on when I'm under a lot of strain, which is often, and it makes me believe in something again. It has an almost deadly calm to it. It's simple in the end result, and complex in the foundations - and I think that's the template for brilliance. Blimey, I can't tell you how much it's influenced me." Smith sifts through a pile of scores until he finds Reich's 1973 work Six Pianos, a piece that he's given up practicing. He doesn't care whether or not anyone else hears the influence of Reich's technique on Underworld. "The beauty goes way beyond the technique," says Smith. "I'm not Steve Reich. I'm not interested in being Steve Reich. I'm interested in the inspiration it gives me - I could never hope to compose music as beautiful as that in my lifetime."

Steve Reich - who, like Glass, turns 60 this year - has never heard Underworld's music. He's never gone to a dance club, or had much interest in going. "Obviously not," he says, "or I would have done it." Whatever minimalism once stood for - aggressively simple arrangements unfolding over a strong, mechanical pulse - has long since evolved into something completely different. In the States, minimalism has influenced a new generation of classical composers to become the dominant voice in serious composition. But in Europe, minimalism skirted past the classical establishment, and headed straight for the pop world. In Germany in the 1970s, it found a home with avant-rock artists Can, proto-industrialists Kraftwerk, synth pioneers Tangerine Dream and producer Georgio Moroder, who figuered out how to combine those elements into disco - all of which would later have some impact on the varied manifestations of '90s electronic dance music. "There was a very explicit, very close connection between the early disco music and musicians like myself and Tangerine Dream," adds Glass. "When I first heard Donna Summer, I just laughed. I said, 'That's exactly what we're doing!' How could you miss it? And maybe it's a comment on the power of the ideas that we turned up in this revolution. We came up with a few good ideas, techniques. It's like a tool - can you imagine the first guy to have a shovel? Before he can turn around, there are shovels all over the place. That's what we were doing in the '60s, we were inventing tools. And they turned out ot be very handy."

Minimalism also came to London, where it landed on its most direct and influential conduit to ambient and techno music, Brian Eno. Eno wasn't a musician, but an art student who knew how to manipulate audio tape. After hearing Steve Reich's 1965 out-of-phase tape-piece, It's gonna rain, in the late '60s, he went back to his studio to try to duplicate Reich's experiment and ultimately came up with a closed system that improved on the original design. Reich's piece made a huge impression on Eno, creating "one of the great formative musical experiences of my life" - along with the first time he heard Philip Glass. "It was a very small room, with concrete walls, so it was really bloody loud," says Eno, remembering Glass's 1969 concert at London's Royal College of Art. "it was a dense, strong sound, and that really impressed me, the physicality of that sound. There was no attempt to draw your attention by stanndard musical devices. It was just, here is the sound. Live in it." Talking from his current residence in St. Petersburg, Russia, with the midnight sun shining outside his window, Eno pauses for a drink of water, jiggling the cubes in his glass. "A lot of people left that show," he says, "but it really bowled me over. I thought, Oh my God, this is it! This is the future of rock music!" At his cramped country home in Vermont, Reich speaks in a rush of words, sharp, insistent, impatient. He has a reputation for being difficult; he doesn't want to talk about the past. He wants to talk about the present, in which he's using samplers to manipulate the oral histories of technological disasters in Hindenburg and Bikini. But for Reich, who hasn't had the same degree of commercial success as Glass, there's always something left to prove. "It's boring for somebody to do the same thing over and over again," he says. "My hope as a composer is to make music that is just going to sweep you away into some kind of very positve, ecstatic state." That could also stand as a perfect descritption of the goals of the early rave scene.

After growing up on a diet of Eno ("I was in awe of him") and Kraftwerk, the Orb's Alex Paterson came up with a strain of beat-driven ambient music, creating "A Huge Ever Growing Pulsating Brain That Rules From the Center of the Ultraworld" out of ocean waves, church bells and jet planes - all held together with the throbbing keyboard arpeggios of Philip Glass and gradually shifting rhythms of Steve Reich. "I remember seeing Koyaanisqatsi six times in one evening," says Paterson, who was 23 when the 1983 movie was released. The film, neither fiction nor documentary, contrasts the rapid pace of modern life (via time-lapse photography) with the static grandeur of nature. Lacking dialog entirely, its imagery is driven solely by Glass's monumental score. "I couldn't put it down, had to watch it again and again and again," says Paterson. "All my mates went out to play. They thought I was quite mad. And I just stayed inside and watched it. And watched it, and watched it, and watched it, and watched it, and watched it." Paterson is in New York for a quickly gig at the dance club Carbon. It's unfortunately the kind of night where everything goes wrong, with lightning troubles, a crowd complaining about ticket prices and the promoter ranting, "I produced Madonna! I produced Madonna!" Recovering in his hotel room the next day, Paterson sounds tired. After seven albums, he's seen a whole generation of musicians come along after him. And just the day before, the Village Voice described the Orb as "an up and coming band that's already on its way down." "I've seriously thought about packing it in this year. If you want to say we're on our way down - I mean, we've been going for nine years now," says Paterson. "To me, just to be around nine years, to be making a good, honest set of albums, I couldn't ask for a better life. We may have committed a little plagiarism here and there - but we haven't copied anyone too drastically." His influences are as clear in 1991's breakthrough Little Fluffy Clouds - a piece that Reich recognizes as his own Electronic Counterpoint - as they are in 1997's Ubiquity, which Paterson calls "a ripp-off, in a sense." There's the bubbling, pulsating keyboards (Glass); the polyrhythms of drum and metronome (Reich); the steadily shifting synth textures (Eno). At 37, Paterson has been playing long enough to hear himself imitated by younger musicians, with prettier melodies and funkier beats creeping into electronica as the music shifts from underground democracy to big business. "Way back in the '80s, we didn't expect anybody to know about us," says Paterson. "Basically, we were creating an atmosphere where the people who could dance would come to our gigs. Now we're getting more people who aren't dancing - that's called success. I never set out to make loads of money out of this business. I set out to have a really good time, and I'm having a really good time. Really, we were just out for a bit of fun. And now it's become corporate fun."

Philip Glass listens to Underworld long enough to observe, "It's a little less commercial than the other one, isn't it?" In a moment, he's making his way upstairs to his studio to look for Icct Hedral, the song he remixed with Aphex Twin, which is what he wants to play for me. Aphex Twin (Richard D. James) calls himself "a non-musician playing music. I'm a fucking twat, mucking around on my computers." Although he's worked with Glass, and is currently remixing Reich's 1971 recording of Drumming, 1972's Clapping Music and Music for 18 Musicians (for a proposed album of Reich remixes by techno artists), James doesn't notice being influenced by any of them. Growing up in Cornwall, his music of choice was the easy listening of lounge music and even Muzak (it still is). Since moving to London, he's listened to Eno, Glass and Reich, but the connection he feels is more philosophical than musical. He laughs at the idea that either Glass or Reich could be called a minimalist. James is used to performing completely alone onstage, with just "one motherfucker lap-top computer." He wasn't surprised that Glass agreed to work with him (I thought he ought to") though he felt a little nervous talking to the elder statesman of minimalism ("I get nervous talking to anyone," he confesses). James admits he learned a lot from the collaboration. "I didn't know anything about recording real intruments," he says. But mostly, he's surprised that a good tune he wrote in 25 minutes took Glass four days to remix. Coming back into the living room, Glass waves the Aphex Twin CD in his hand, slips it into the player, and adjusts the volume until the room starts to vibrate. The speakers are tiny, three little four-inch squares, but the sound is massive, monstrous. "It's nice, isn't it?" he says, shouting above the music. Eyes closed, he conducts the CD, nodding his head, waving his hands. He taps his toes, strokes his chin, hums the melody. "Listen here," he says, as the flute makes its entrance, and then the strings, building into a defeating crescendo. "Now, that's an interesting piece," he says when it's all over. "Powerful, eh?" In another minute, he's looking sad again, genuinely disappointed that he liked it so much more than anything I'd played for him. We could keep going, but it's getting late. A telephone call means that his dinner appointment is waiting. Before I go, I pass on of the rest of my messages. Eno sends his regards, while µ-zig's Mike Paradinas has an inevitable question for the master: "Do you want to work with me?"

/ By Kenny Berkowitz.

L'Appartment

2008-04-08T21:20:00.002+01:00

Notiz 191

(Der Deutsche Mensch als Symptom) / Die Aufopferung des Privatlebens auf dem Altar des geheiligten Ideals ist nichts anderes als ein verzweifeltes Anklammern an das Ideal, wenn das Privatleben gestorben ist.

Notiz 258

(Das hilflose Europa oder Reise vom Hundertsten ins Tausendste) / Und alle beginnen sie, jeder auf seine Weise, damit die Institutionen der Familie zu zerstören: Platon, Jesus, die frühen Kommunisten, die Nazis, die Militaristen und auch die militanten Pazifisten. Die Asketen ebenso wie die orgiastischen Sekten (alte und neue). Erster Schritt zur "Erlösung": Aufhebung der Familie. Auflösung aller intimen Bindungen unter den Menschen zugunsten der vollständigen Eingliederung der "Familie der Revolution".

Notiz 266

(Die Nation als Ideal und als Wirklichkeit) / Verbrechen - Schuldgefühl - Sühnebedürfnis - Indienststellung für ein Ideal - wiederum Schuld - Begehen eines neuen Verbrechens im Dienst an dem Ideal - erneutes Sühnebedürfnis - verdoppelte Anhänglichkeit an das Ideal - und so weiter. Ein Teufelskreis.

/ Mixed Sources.

L'Immeuble (brouillon de lettre)

2008-03-06T21:24:00.001+01:00

so, as we can see, architecture is a very narcissistic profession. we even make a spectacle of our doubts or maybe a soap opera of our potential obsolesence, we eagerly anticipate our own redundancy, there have even been congresses organized about the death of architecture. can we imagine any other profession organizing an event around a similar theme? can we imagine a congress saying what can doctors do for the beginning of the 21st century, nurses, firemen, taxidrivers? how much more impressive would it be to organize a more aggressive congress, for instance "was leistet architektur für die stadt am ende des etc etc".

in the strange mixture of doubt and vanity that is the kind of present condition of architecture we have to abandon our obsessive preoccupation with architecture. architecture is a prison, architecture is a prison, we all have a life sentence, and the best idea would be a collective escape from that prison. architecture is a prison, becuase we still define it only as building as adding structures to an already overcharged world. architecture is still mass, matter, substance, detail, interest, beauty, and it is only very rarely thought. that kind of architecture as we still know it and as it is still mostly defined implies three conditions - control, stability and permanence. these, exactly these three conditions that are the necessities for architecture are the three conditions that at the end of the twentieth century are increasingly absent.

there are concepts that have to be abandoned forever. and therefore in this conflict between on the one hand the needs, the so-called needs of architecture and the present conditions in which control, stability or permanence are no longer availible, architecture has two choices. we can on the one hand have a heroic and maybe neurotic fight to the last architect, to conquer or maintain our position of architects, or on the other hand we can imagine a way to redesign architecture itself, and i think that could be a more interesting way to avoid a dilemma. we have to invent an architecture that implies that there is no longer control. each control brings additional authority, each authority brings additional authoritarianism, therefore each control implies less freedom, so therefore we have to find a kind of architecture that allows more deregulation and more freedom. we have to find a kind of architecture that lives with instability.

instability is in itself not a very attractive condition, the most stable condition is death, and therefore i think there is every reason to separate the relationship between architecture and stability. we have to find a way in which architecture can survive in permanence, some architectural memories are much more important than some of the present "bio-architecture" with which we are surrounded. we have to make architecture like a more general form of intelligence. it is humilliating in this day and age to only make things with our hands. we have to develop as architects a more developed, a more intellectual self-critical action. if a doctor looks at a desease, one of his choices is to do nothing. no architecture or architect at this moment has that ability. as architects we are always forced to do something, always forced to do architecture, always forced to imagine more architecture. in a world of incredible transformation why should we of all professions be on this side of conservation and this kind of conservatism?

so this is one part of my kind of representing the re-design of architecture. than the second issue i want to talk about is architecture in the city. at the end of the sixties my generation, the generation of may '68, inspired by our famous precedessors like aldo rossi and robert venturi, rediscovered the city. you all know perhaps the gap of images or remember the images of our paris in '68, we had a famous slogan "sous le pavé la plage" - underneath the pavement the beach - may '68 seemed a beginning of a new way of understanding the city, and i think this is unfortunate, it also was a new way of understanding the city, it immediately developed an obsession with understanding the existing city, the old city, the classic of the city, the city as we had known it. a movement that will later inspire and be formalized in the movement for the reconstruction of the european city and in germany more recently the iba in berlin.

what i think is dramatic about this kind of rediscovery is that in this kind of rediscovering the city we have lost somehow completely the ability to make the city. we have lost increasingly the ability to imagine the city as it could be and also to take the risks to imagine new cities and to take even bigger risks of making new cities. i would defend the thesis that the discovery of the city by architects is one of the greatest dangers that now threatens and faces the city. and this is again our problem as architects because we are forced to diagnose each condition only in the very limited terms of our own production. we are weak, because all our solutions are architectual. parallel to our increasing sophistication on the one hand, an increasing understanding about the existing city we have rediculed and laughed out of existence an entire profession, namely the profession of urbanists. they used to have avery famous profession, a profession of those who made the city, we as architects have somehow pushed them into a corner, made them ridiculous, simply because we did not like the cities they produced.

once it was a proud and elegant discipline, and instrument of a systematic optimism, a profession that knew how to built cities, but because we did not like their city, because we did not agree with the city, we have dynamited an entire profession away from the face of the earth. you may look at schools of architecture in america, in europe, more and more institutions of education have closed in the eighties and nineties their schools of urbanism. and his was a big and expansive mistake for architecture i think. we put ourselves in the foreground, our competition with the urbanists was won by the architects, we killed urbanism there can be no architecture.

urbanism is a profession that creates potential. urbanism leaves things open. architecture closes things, architecture pre-empts. urbanism widens, architecture narrows. and i think these important differences between these professions are incredibly neglected and we have incredibly underestimated the effect what has happened in our killing urbanism. well, architecture has been so far unable to deal with three major conditions of modernity and of this final part at the beginning of the 21st century - decontrol, impermanence and instability. urbanism is the one profession that can take them as points of departure, that can use them for its own ideology, and that can base a worldview on them, within which architecture could eventually play a role. but because we have killed urbanism, we are separated from this kind of modernity and it is harder and harder for us to find a connection with it. and this is, has been very obvious in our own work.

i would finally say that there has been one major shift from early part of the 20th century to the end. in the beginning you could be a hero or a visionary on the basis of generalizations. frank lloyd wright's broadacre city is a proposition for the whole of america. le corbusier offered his city on at least four continents and if he could he would he would have offered it on five. mies von der rohe produced an architecture that - in his opinion - could exist in europe or in america. now, the person who generalizes is inevitably almost a fool. the time for generalizations is over. there are no similarities any more between conditions.

the new period, the present moment needs an endless repertoire of intelligent specificities, an explosion of differences. the future will be high-specific, not general. it will be a rule of exceptions, and only the most flexible will be "heroic". the future will be the end of consistency.

/ by rem koolhaas.

L'Immeuble (les lieux)

2008-03-06T21:24:00.000+01:00

1. do you think that serious talk about music intimidates people?
- it threatens several ideological ideas about music - listening as well as producing - being a specifically unintellectual or anti-intellectual practice. some of those ideologies have somee good reasons going for them in the sense that music can be a claim to a place of your own to which the legitimate cultural practices have no access. i can understand the function of this kind of anti-intellectualism. nevertheless, i have witnessed a million times how people can't stop believing in their idea of unmediated creativity and other nonsense. it becomes too painful for them to drop this belief or reformulate it as strategy, therefore they have to belive in it. but there are other types of intimidation by serious talk about music. i regularly feel intimidated by the music talk of young male specialists. but maybe i feel intimidated by them because i used to be like them. you are always hate your own mistakes more than others. plus, older critics are always bored when they recognize something they've experienced before, and they become aggressive when things differ from the way they have experienced them in their days. the present can't win.

2. how accessible is your criticism?
- i am afraid not very much and it's getting worse the older i get. i refuse to talk about new music as if it were the first album i ever heard. i also refuse to stop listening to new music. so i tend to fall into the trap where i talk to young and new listeners about young and new products with the attitude and typical vocabulary of an old man - comparisons and references to records that are out-of-print and books that are boring to read for the very audience that enjoys new music - although i also write a lot about old people's music. there are cases where the conditions of communication with my readers are much better.

3. what's music criticism like in germany these days?
- it's like everywhere else i guess. extremely specialized discourse by specialized fans who know a lot about their field of expertise but not much more. brutal ignorance on the side of the establishment media. that is probably the big difference to the anglophonic world: there is more established music journalism and there is a university-background which does not exist at all in germany.

4. as a german music critic active in america, what forms of cultural intervention are possible within the context of rock criticism?
- i wouldn't call myself "active in america" . at least not in the field of music. most of my activities in the states were fine art-related. even when i talked on music, it was published in artforum or on panels organized by artforum or artists and art critics. i was teaching in pasadena at, again, an art / graphic-design institution. i am doing the same thing in germany. i think it is very difficult to intervene as a german in the anglophonic countries in the field of popular music - at least that is what my german publisher experiences whenever he tries to sell my books on the british or us market - because pop music is considered the domain of english-language writers. i am not talking about wagner or whatever the national stereotype makes me seem more qualified for, but then i have never really tried to make myself known to the american audience.

5. does your approach change when you engage in criticism outside of your home country?
- yes, definitely. since i have been active in austria, spain, less often in belgium, switzerland and denmark, i am familiar with the imperative to drop all insider-talk and all references to certain agreements and past discussions that make it so comfortable and also more elegant to address an audience that you know and that knows you. the other main problem is that i have to write and speak in english (outside germany, switzerland and austria) - and since i am not so good at that, i'll never have the same sense of commanding the language.

6. "spex" is a cool name. what does it mean?
- back in 1980 when the magazine was founded - two years before i started writing for it, five years before i became an editor, and eight years before i became a publisher - the editors and publishers were fans of the british punk band, x-ray-spex, with polly styrene and lora logic. that's it.

7. what was / is the agenda of spex?
- the agenda was: highly personalized writing and new music - first new wave, industrial, new german music, and later more hardcore and soul; since the 90s: hip hop, so called alternative music, techno and post-techno - politically leftist perspectives, and a lot of extra-musical subjects, mainly from the art world. the agenda is: to publish the leading german magazine on music culture, on certain musical and artistic extremisms, and also dissenting views on mainstream subjects, with now nearly 50% of the magazine dedicated to non-musical cultural and political subjects, including more theoretical and academic debates from the field of cultural studies, as well as the criticism in that field. now and then "spex" has been highly determined by personal taste and the ideas of its editors and publishers. so there always been forms of "extreme music" that we hated and never included, and vice versa, boring mainstream music that we loved and featured.

8. in a recent interview with mayo thompson, you mentioned the liason between rock and art. where would this liason lead us?
- sometimes art can provide institutional support for projects that have no backing in either the mainstream or alternative music industry. sometimes you can escape the respective limits of one of those two worlds by flirting with the other or cheating on it by sleeping with the other. of course there is not principally an advantage in the combination or liaison of the two, but in history quite often there have been strategic advantages, like for examle the fact, that i can make a living as an instructor at art academies only on the grounds of being a music writer - but i would never be accepted by a music institution. germany is a country with a very retarded academic scene when it comes to the study of popular culture, but within art institutions it's a highly developed field. it's similar to the historic fact that all british musicians of the 60s were art students.

9. do you think that artists and musicians end up mutually idealizing each other?
- in general? david bowie is idealizing balthus and damien hirst. i think lou reed and john cale never understood andy warhol's art - maybe it's the same vice versa. joseph beuys recorded a 7" with one of the worst german bands. jospeh kosuth designed a john cale sleeve - i have no idea what the two have in common. mike kelly, of course, knows more about music than most musicians or critics, and he collaborated quite productively with sonic youth who obviously know a lot about art - neither of them are idealizing each other. all those metal bands who are into dali or fantasy kitsch don't know what they are talking about, but when they give descriptions of the art they like to their young friends who do their album covers, they produce sometimes the most brilliant paintings. i think we have all kinds of possible interpretations and projections between artists and musicians, just as we have between everyone else, but we sometimes have interesting milieus that are composed of both sides.

10. who would represent your ideal rock star? (male and female)
- the age of rock stars is over, isn't it? at certain moments in history this position was held by - in no particular order - john lennon, roger mcguinn, nick drake, robert wyatt, julie driscoll, yoko ono, green gartside, boy george, cecil taylor, ornette coleman, miles davis, mayo thompson, john cale, nico, nicolette, alison statton, peter hein, harry rag, lora logic, gina birch, mark beer, bob dylan, detlef diedrichsen, dudu pukwana, peter brötzmann, jim o'rourke, david grubbs, mike ink, brian ferry, david bowie, ninjaman, cedric myton, lee perry, prince far I, mark stewart, krs one, chuck d, curtis mayfield, marvin gaye, diana ross, goldie, david thomas, madonna, tupac shakur, erykah badu, janet jackson, lizzy mercier descloux, kid creole, coati mundi, bootsy collins, kim fowley, todd rundgren, george clinton, thelonious monk, johnny winter, jerry garcia, derek baily, van dyke parks, chuck dukowski, greg ginn, tony williams and the notorious b.i.g. - to name just a small number of people who come to my mind in five minutes.

11. can you tell us a little bit about your books freiheit macht arm - life after rock'n'roll 1990-93 and political correctness?
- the title of the first one is a pun: literally it means, "freedom creates poverty", but it also refers to the infamous words at the entrance of a concentration camp, "work sets you free" (arbeit macht frei). it's the reversal of that one. it's about the end of the idea of freedom that rock'n'roll was about, which came from the cold war and the american lifestyle. this freedom was the freedom of the market that we have today which literally has created a lot of poverty around the world and formed the dominant ideology of today - from "wired" to boris yeltsin. my point in that book (written in '92 and published in '93) is that hip hop, as a music of disappointment and hopelessness, provides the master narrative of our current situation - with a lot of counter narratives of course on its side. the scope of the essays in that book is very wide - from a tour diary (on the raod with ice-t), to theoretical essays on subversion and the new german right and its consequences for sub- and countercultures. the second book, "politische korrekturen", does not translate "political correctness" but "political corrections". it's about the import of the pc-debate in europe and parallel cultural war maneuvers. my point is there never was any perosn in the world who definded him or herself as politically correct, but that the label "pc" was an attempt to unify and subsequently demonize all kinds of different micropolitical activities. this becomes especially interesting in germany where everything from anti-racist resistance to the still very underdeveloped germans of contemporary feminism is quite successfully and routinely dismissed as "pc". my final question in that book is: if such a thing as pc - the way the right wing describes it: a powerful leftist cultural political agenda - would really have a chance to exist in this world, how would it like to be?

12. how do you conceive of cultural resistance in rock today, particularly after punk and hip hop?
- i have no idea. is there such a thing as cultural resistance by itself? at least there wouldn't be if it weren't connected to any broader type of resistance. of course i don't believe in the power of the nice opinion and the good will and don't even think it is a task of any art to resist, but more modestly at best to articulate what hasn't been articulated - and that something hasn't been articualted and something else cannot be articulated today is political, but not in the narrow sense of censorship by the mainstream or assimilation and subsequent devaluation by the culture industry, but in a much broader sense. nor do i believe on the other hand in the culturally pessimistic reading of adorno/horkheimer's rather dated culture industry essay or debord's analysis of the "spectacle" - as two versions of totalizing the cultural field from a pessimistic high-art point of view. to me hip hop is not a part or an episode or a subgenre of rock, but its antithesis: anti-utopian, pragmatist and realist, in the best and in the worst sense of those qualities. i don't see hip hop exclusively as a form of resistance, but rather as an artistic type of articulation that adds material to what should be considered and looked at before one starts to conceive of any type of cultural or other form of resistance.

13. have any musical movements been particularly significant to you? why?
- i was a little bit too young to become a hippie and little bit too old to become a punk, thus i've ben influenced by both. i spent some months in ny between '80 and '83, and saw bambaataa at the roxy and hung out at the negril when they had breakdance shows, and at one point even danced at the paradise garage. so hip hop and club culture have been impressive and significant to me, but i wasn't so involved. in the late 80s i started spinning records , mainly raggamuffin and electronic reggae, some hip hop and proto-jungle, until 1993. i missed techno and many other movements of the 90s. i was bored by grunge. you see that the reasons i offer are mainly biographical. music became meaningful because i happened to have some sort of priviliged access (geographically, socially, mentally, or whatever). growing up in germany you never consider any music natural or part of your roots - because german "roots" are too horrible to have any investment in them - but everything in the world is equally close or far. it all depends on what happens to you.

14. how do you read the present dj / remix trend?
- it's been going on for almost twenty years. green gartside called it deconstructive as early as 1982. it's the dominant mode of musical production after the song. the remix is the successor of the song and it follows different rules of signification. and it influences musical pratices far beyond dance music.

15. what are your thoughts on the revival of krautrock in america?
- it's amusing. 95% of what is reissued is the worst music i happened to have to listen to when i was between fourteen and nineteen. the music that is worth listening to again never really needed a revival, it was always known: can, faust, kraftwerk, amon düül 2 and so on have been mentioned by everyone since the punk days. the rest, especially the mystic wing like tangerine dream, ash ra temple and the likes, are plain horrible with the exception of early popol vuh. at "other music" in ny you'll even find german rock bands of that time that sound worse than, let's say, norwegian bands. but everyone should check out xhol caravan, especially when they were still called soul caravan.

16. you've written essays on "the swing to the right" in post-unification germany. is ethno-nationalism still a big issue in relation to music/cultural formation in germany?
- it's a complicated discursive phenomenon and it still plays a big role in defining post-unification normality. there are much stricter asylum laws, easy deportations and of course an ideological background for that. in music you'll find here and there a techno or post-techno electronic musician who tells you that his or her music is now free from african-american elements or british elements, it's now really german. even good musicians and nice people say things like that from time to time.

17. what interests you the most in the current music scene in germany as a listener and / or critic?
- a) minimal techno - the sound of cologne: mike ink, gas, j burger, the modernist, etc;
b) stella - a band from hamburg that sound like the most brilliant moments of 1980-rough-trade-sound;
c) minimal techno from berlin: maurizio, basic channel and so on.

18. are you optimistic or pessimistic about now?
- neither, nor.

19. any zeitgeist comments?
- no.

20. what's the last sublime music moment you experienced?
- terre thaemitz's cd, means to an end; the blood&fire reissue of king tubby meets morwell unlimited; cecil taylor's berlin cd, always a pleasure; janet jackson's recent activities; music from porter ricks on a tape i often listened to.

/ originally published around 1998 and taken from an us-fanzine titled music.

L'Immeuble (travaux pratiques)

2008-03-06T21:23:00.002+01:00

... // the 1984 first meeting in new york between adrian sherwood and keith leblanc was one of the most important events in the history and direction of On-U sound. it saw the birth of radical collaboration between the british producer and three american musicians that continues to this today. tackhead is the vanishing point, the vortex, at the end of many years of formative, experimental collaborations between the innovative british producer and mixologist extraordinaire adrian sherwood and the american trio of musicians: guitarist skip mcdonald, bassist doug wimbish and drummer keith leblanc. wimbish and mcdonald, whose partnership goes back to the mid-70's disco boom first met up with keith in 1979 on the newly-formed sugarhill records.

they soon became the label's house band, providing backing for the ground-breaking sugarhill gang (rapper's delight), grandmaster flash (the message) and melle mel (white lines), helping to launch the onslaught of 80's rap. after the demise of sugarhill and drawn-out legal wranglings, the three musicians continued to work on various projects. described by the new york times as, "one of today's most extraordinary rhythm sections", they included recordings for tom silverman's tommy boy label. bop bop 12 inch was fats comet's first release. moving on from the early 80's rap explosion, keith leblanc already released some solo work on tommy boy (maneuvers and uh! on the 1985 masters of the beat compilation; mixing the (now legendary) DMX drumbeats with his own special drum sound). no sell out featured the cut-up raps of civil rights activist malcolm X pitched against the infamous DMX drumbeat, now acknowledged as the first ever sampling record. ahead of its time no sell out, brought him to the attention of london's dub-meister extraordinare and On-U Sound label owner adrian sherwood.

in 1984, while working on a remix of akabu's watch yourself for tommy boy, he met keith leblanc. after a productive meeting, mcdonald and wimbish later joined them in london to begin work on a new project which they christened, fats comet. leblanc's beat, pitched with sherwood's dub methodology, taken it to the limit created a unique media where the heavily distorted sound of mcdonald´s guitar and wimbish's funky bass made things complete. as leblanc summed up: "we started fats comet as a studio experiment. the stuff we considered being "non-commercial" got stuck on adrian sherwood's label and doug wimbish came up with the name tackhead; which is new jersey slang for homeboy."

after releasing a number of 12 inches, including science fiction dancehall classics mind at the end of tether (ON-U DP15) and what's my mission now? (ON-U DP13) tackhead had gained a lot of credits and popularity, especially among those who tied up to the industrial virus. a forthcoming album was inevitable and tackhead released tape time (ON-U LP46), including the newly unearthed talents of gary clail, was bound to be a classic from the day of release. in the meantime, they also found the time to back former pop group main man mark stewart as the maffia; a collaboration which resulted in probably some of the most deranged hip-mutant-funk-metal-dub-hop records ever to be made.

tackhead in the area! became the common chant after the the game 12 inch (ON-U DP17) which featured TV commentator brian moore. the band also started touring, which resulted in the in concert live album, quickly withdrawn soon after release. the friendly as a hand grenade (ON-U LP41) album marked a new direction. they were now joined by fellow american and ex-peech boys vocalist bernard fowler, giving a soulful edge to their beats and making them more accessible to a wider audience. bernard's introduction to the band came through mick jagger who was himself a big tackhead fan. tackhead, now signed to EMI subsidiary SBK, released in 1990 the strange things album which, despite some good tracks turned out to be the band's major malfunction. they were dropped by EMI and the use of the name to promote new material largely dried up. though tackhead as a name has slipped out of use, collaboration between various of its former members continues to this day - such as releases by the strange parcels ("a tackhead re-duction"), the barmy barmy and probably most notably, the acclaimed skip mcdonald-fronted dub-blues releases of little axe.

besides the previously mentioned activities it cannot be forgotten that tackhead's members also continue to play, produce and remix for a wide range of well known artists: e.g. james brown, africa bambaataa, george clinton, seal, bb king, robbie robertson, annie lennox, mick jagger, R.E.M., tina turner, depeche mode, bomb the bass, robert palmer, neneh cherry, malcolm mclaren, ABC - and then we're not even mentioning the numerous releases and formidable productions for the whole On-U Sound posse; dub syndicate, gary clail, bim sherman, jesse rae ... ! tackhead are a vast monumental influence on the music of the eighties and nineties, charming visionaries and story tellers about life, love and lust.

/ adapted from echo beach's tackhead biography found at echobeach.de

... // a brief biography of the drummer responsible for fats comet's tackhead beat via keithleblanc.org: keith leblanc started out as a session drummer with sugarhill records, early 1980’s. he formed the sugarhill house band with fellow americans doug wimbish (bass) and skip ‘little axe’ mcdonald (guitar), working with leading rap artists as the sugarhill gang (rapper’s delight) and grandmaster flash and melle mel on "the message" and "freedom". from his own no sell out, the first ever sampling record, on tommy boy records (1983) to his involvement in creating the sound of funk noise giants tackhead with wimbish, mcdonald and british dub producer adrian sherwood, he has gained recognition as one of the top and most innovative drummers / programmers around.

his landmark album major malfunction (WR005) (considered to be the first tackhead recording, although credited to leblanc solo) was of great influence to a whole generation of musicians. the album, a reaction to the 1986 disaster with space shuttle challenger, started off a whole new genre of industrial music. apart from his work as member of the legendary On-U Sound posse, keith leblanc has continued to experiment with new sounds using his own blanc records as a base from which to release pioneering albums and push musical boundaries even further. apart from that he made a series of sampling CDs for the advanced media group with loads of drum samples and sound effects, free for anyone to use. his writing and production skills have attracted the likes of living colour, peter gabriel, the cure, ministry, and nine inch nails. as a drummer / programmer he has worked with everyone from james brown to trevor horn, seal to R.E.M., the rolling stones, jalal (last poets), the stone roses, robert palmer and bomb the bass. he also produced charles & eddie’s hit record would i lie to you, along with tim simenon of bomb the bass. more recent work includes sessions for Annie Lennox, Tina Turner, Brian Ferry, Sunscreem, Babylon Zoo, Sussan Deyhim, Depeche Mode, Sinéad O’Connor and of course Adrian Sherwood's solo project never trust a hippy?. "KLB" is currently exploring the boundaries of jazz (an early love) with manu ventura's band noah ground.

african head charge's master percussionist bonjo iyabinghi noah is one of On-U Sound's longest-serving musicians and maker of ground-breaking records. steve barker (with additional content from the editor of skysaw) takes a look into his back catalogue: it always seemed that adrian sherwood's future-proof labelling of his early eighties On-U Sound albums, as for example - "another 1992 On-U Sound production", was an affectation at best and mild megalomania at worst. listening back to that work now the at the time young producer's artistic licence can be acknowledged as precociously well founded, especially when applied to the work of the unit known as african head charge.

this virtual band coalesced around the percussion talents of bonjo iyabinghi noah, bonjo to you and me, subsequent to the demise of creation rebel, a real time band who had been subject to the rigours, disciplines and boredom that recording, rehearsing, touring and playing inevitably bring. on the streets in late 1981 my life in a hole in the ground (ON-U LP 13) paid direct, if somewhat disrespectful, tribute to the groundbreaking my life in the bush of ghosts, the collaboration by brian eno and talking head david byrne which had emerged earlier in the year on e.g. records, home of early second-wave ambience. on the one hand eno's "vision of a psychedelic africa" was an elevating concept at the time, but putting it into practice my life in a hole in the ground was to provide the challenge to bonjo and adrian. the "hole in the ground" referred to berry street studios in the city of london, an establishment accessed off-street and down a flight of stairs.

the studios were in possession of particular ambiences and resonances popular with the producer at the time, but also the basic rest and recreational facilities offered little for the late night worker. the my life in a hole in the ground album can now be viewed as an experimental work in that it was a search for a fresh musical template for the then virtual band african head charge. at the time it was made, and certainly more prosaic than the grander sounding term "experimental", it was a case of "what next?", "how about trying this?" or "will this work?". studio time was precious and samplers, even in their most rudimentary form, had not yet arrived in commercial studios. the introduction of pre-captured sound had to be managed by the use of precious channels or the mind-numbingly tedious process of multi-edits. so we find adrian, bonjo and the usual On-U suspects of the time playing with fairly free-form rhythm creation based on the tenets of reggae - drum and bass makes the space.

on this bed bonjo was then free to develop percussion patterns and breaks, whilst contributions from the likes of deadly headley and dr pablo filled in the requirements for colouration. the album environmental studies (ON-U LP 19) was originally released in the UK in september of 1982. apparently the set was so titled because of the producer's vague interest in a school subject of the same name. it was recorded and mixed with the producer being very much influenced by, and wanting to be a part of, that musical avant-garde which was possessed by no country, or even continent, of origin, yet took influences from wherever and whenever it wished. the producer recalls talking to geoff travis of rough trade and david thomas, from the band pere ubu, about water noises and other ambient sounds playing louder than the band. the album's sound could only been have achieved in the studios at berry street. they had an old style reverb plate just waiting to be used and abused - in a king tubby style, a mainly stone-built toilet where adrian stacked big speakers with an auxiliary microphones to obtain the sound of distant drums (sic), and most importantly a bunch of stacked-up free time in which to record some tunes.

the players included benbow on drums, who was in the UK with prince far I after style scott had been seduced by the roots radics, george oban lately of aswad, bruce smith ex-slit and rip rig and panic-er, charlie "eskimo fox", nick plytas previously with roogalator, crucial tony as "fuse", london jazz-player dave wright as "flash", on sax the great deadly headley, and the multi-talented steve beresford who cropped up on so many early On-U affairs particularly with the new age steppers. talking in more recent years to bonjo he had little recollection of the sessions that constituted this and other early AHC albums - none of which he owns in any format. this is not necessarily due to the ingestion of any mind altering substances during that period or since, but more to do with the time that has passed and the music made between then and now.

as bonjo says: "i man just here for the music." the drastic season album (ON-U LP 27) was originally released on vinyl on the 20th of october 1983. like its predecessors it was a largely instrumental affair with little actual dubbing and no detectable vocal samples. however the sound of sherwood's production had become radically different with the move to southern studios, where state of the art digital studio hardware lived in harmony with the hard edged punk ethic of the musicians who inhabited the area by night. the first phase of AHC's development was coming to a logical conclusion, as on their future recorded output we would discover more studio generated ideas and the introduction of more chants and captured vocal and ambient sounds (samples) whilst bonjo conversely emerged as the leader of not only a real band but also a fully-fledged touring outfit. so this set finds head charge very much in mid-stream. bonjo had not yet carved out his niche as the happy-go-lucky king of the ethno-chant so beloved by the festival-goers of UK and europe.

the sound of drastic season is stop-go, at once urgent but searching, wired and speed-fuelled, some would find the listening experience failing to stop short of the psychotic. the band suffered from not conforming to one particular category or another, not reggae or new wave and certainly not new romantic. who would play this on radio? which promoter would take the risk of presenting this stuff in live performance before a crowd of innocent and gullible students? where was this music coming from? the answer was - the mind and fingers of adrian sherwood who regarded the album's studio sessions as ... "... experiments in active frequencies, out of time noises, rhythms within rhythms, and endless tape edits (edits on edits) resulting in the ultimate cut-up and paste job ..." ... which, in retrospect, can be seen as an integral learning experience for the then young producer.

when drastic season was originally released On-U Sound were not in the habit of commissioning sleeve notes for their albums. however, a few sporadic press releases crept out of the On-U bunker, including this one: "a high-tech rhythm mix of human, animal and machine sounds, captured on the southern studios digital rig by the "wackid' mixer adrian sherwood, up in sunny wood green, drastic season features that On-U rugged bass sound. check it if you're a dancer, a listener, a film maker, a computer programmer, a human or an animal. special treats in store for steam locomotive enthusiasts and biologists. you've never heard such sounds in your life (to quote ESP). in the intervening years between the 1986 release of off the beaten track and drastic season, AHC had been moulded into a live blood-pumping band by bonjo, who had truly come out of the shadows where percussion usually resides, fuelled by a righteous desire to occupy that front-of-stage position.

also during that time sherwood had volunteered to be fed through the funk-mangle by messrs. (skip) mcdonald, (doug) wimbish and (keith) leblanc, and had come out the other end more disciplined and focused on what fresh sounds might be possibly be created through the blatant use and abuse of state of the art technology. the result of this "great leap forward" was the first "modern", AHC album - off the beaten track (ON-U LP 40) - which sounded like nothing else around at the time, and whose combination of fat beats and ethnic chants was to provide the template which many lesser lights were to attempt to emulate over the ensuing years. compared to previous efforts the "new" AHC rhythms were less abstract and more direct, with continuous and flowing percussion lines and more managed tempo shifts. the application of loops and samples of increased time duration made all the difference when combined with the more fluid and confident approach of the musicians involved in the build of the tracks.

sherwood shows up once more under his by now redundant guise as the prisoner. skip mcdonald makes an early non-funk entry and the reappearance of jah wobble makes clear his creative commitment to his old friends at On-U. but most remarkably, and making his debut as a recording artist, is the twentieth centuries most radical scientist - the super-cool albert einstein, laying down a sweet rap with the most conscious of lyrics in language and mentality. of course, albert was in the studio in spirit only and the exercise, to my knowledge, has never been repeated. the songs of praise albums title off the beaten track was not just an example of a great piece of wordplay but also incredibly apt as the music was not only a departure for On-U Sound but also a landmark album for what was to become the whole new ethno-beat strand within the commercial category of what we now know as "world music".

the track also led, over the following four years, to the eventual creation of AHC's meisterwerk - the 1990 peerless songs of praise (ON-U LP 50) - a set so complete in its realisation that it provided a peak that the band could not scale again, even though the later, and by most standards excellent, 1993's in pursuit of shashamane land (ON-U LP 65) provided some splendid moments. having gained a taste for being AHC's spiritual leader and spurred-on by his more vocal-based work with noah house of dread, bonjo and On-U went their separate artistic ways in 1994 - bonjo finding greater creative freedom in a number of self-produced sets on either Acid Jazz or his own Bonjo I label. a relocation to ghana also took place after he completed a small beach-side housing compound for himself and his ever-increasing family.

ten years later, revived and now very much a father, bonjo and adrian are once again working together on new material and 2005 should see the first On-U AHC album for over a decade, bonjo returning to london specifically for recording purposes. it is fitting that bonjo has made ghana his home, in an act of self-managed repatriation, as the country accords its musicians due respect and status, especially the masters percussion - of which bonjo is certainly one.

given the nature of especially the early On-U Sound releases, basic rhythms were often re-used, sampled, overdubbed and remixed by the same collective of artists under different names and with variant or completely different titles. this has lead to the On-U catalogue being awash with multiple re-works of the same basic track with little way of associating them.

thus the rhythm directory was born. the first version of the rhythm directory was painstakingly researched and compiled by Richard Davies back in 1992 and together with updates by culf in 1993-4 was once available along with his discographies by FTP - but sadly no longer. this re-incarnation maintains richard and culf's original classification system, brings it more or less up to date and adds further new rhythms i have allocated. my corrections and updates are to a july 1994 paper copy of richard and Culf's original with brand new rhythm additions to it comprising all rhythms above 92 and B39. my thanks go to them both for letting me develop their creation further and for doing much of the hard work on which the information within is based. a rhythm in the context of this directory is given a wide definition in the absence of any other suitable term i can think of. it's taken to mean any underlying pattern within a track that is clearly reproduced in more than one recording. this pattern may be one or a combination of lyrics, tune, drum loop or recurring bassline sequence.

while every track therefore consists of elements on which a rhythm can be based, the rhythm directory deals mainly with those rhythms that have been re-used in such a way that a change in track name and / or mix name and / or artist name has occurred that makes the common link between them non-obvious. that said, this directory is not a completely exhaustive list. in the table header of each rhythm is a column marked version. in this context a version is a distinct recording which contains a rhythm in question. i.e. every edit, remix, dub, re-recording etc etc is considered to be a separate version. generally speaking there are at least two versions of each listed rhythm known. the names for versions i have used are purely of my own derivation and are designed to descriptively differentiate them from each other.

in particular, versions called "original" do not necessarily mean "very first recording", but probably more accurately "suspected first recording of those versions listed". perhaps confusingly, from time-to-time, the name of a version is given as 'version'. when used as a name, version is simply taken to mean variation or difference.

/ taken from the official biography appearing on www.keithleblanc.com, via skysaw.org

Exercices

2008-02-14T21:22:00.000+01:00

es darf vorausgesetzt werden, dass das wort "der herd des weltkriegs", seit es diesen gegenstand gibt, zwar oft benutzt worden ist, stets jedoch mit einer gewissen ungenauigkeit in der frage, wo dieser gegenstand seinen platz habe. ältere leute, die noch persönliche erinnerungen an jene zeit besitzen, denken da wohl an sarajewo, doch fühlen sie selbst, dass diese kleine bosnische stadt bloss das ofenloch gewesen sein kann, durch das der wind einfuhr. gebildete leute werden ihre gedanken auf die politischen knotenpunkte und welthauptstädte richten. noch höher gebildete dürften mit sicherheit ausserdem die namen von essen, creuzot, pilsen und der übrigen zentren der waffenindustrie im gedächtnis haben. und ganz gebildete werden dem etwas aus der petroleum-, kali- und sonstigen gütergeographie hinzufügen, denn so hat man es oft gelesen.

aus all dem folgt aber bloss, dass der herd des weltkriegs kein gewöhnlicher herd gewesen ist, denn er stand an mehreren orten gleichzeitig. vielleicht sagt man darauf, dass dieses wort bloss bildlich zu verstehen sei. aber dem ist in so voller weise zuzustimmen, dass sich alsbald noch viel grössere verlegenheiten daraus ergeben. denn gesetzt nun, es wolle herd in seiner bildlichkeit ungefähr das gleiche bedeuten, wie ursprung oder ursache ohne solche, so weiss man zwar, dass der ursprung aller dinge und geschehnisse gott ist, aber andererseits hat man nichts davon. denn mit den ursprüngen und ursachen ist es so bestellt, wie wenn einer seine eltern suchen geht: zunächst hat er zwei, und das ist unbezweifelbar; bei den grosseltern aber sind es schon zwei zum quadrat, bei den urgrosseltern zwei zur dritten und so fort in einer sich mächtig öffnenden reihe, die sich nirgends bezweifeln lässt, aber das merkwürdige ergebnis hat, dass es am ursprung der zeiten schon eine fast unendliche unzahl von menschen bloss zu dem zweck gegeben haben müsste, einen einzigen der heutigen hervorzubringen. wenn das auch schmeichelhaft ist und der bedeutung entspricht, die der einzelne in sich fühlt, so rechnet man heute doch zu genau, als dass man es glauben könnte.

schweren herzens muss man also auf seine persönliche ahnenreihe verzichten und annehmen, dass man "ab irgendwo" gruppenweise gemeinsam abstamme. und das hat verschiedene folgen. so die, dass die menschen sich teils für "brüder" halten, teils für "fremdstämmlinge", ohne dass einer diese grenze zu bestimmen wüsste, denn das, was man nation und rasse nennt, sind ergebnisse und keine ursachen. eine andere folge, nicht minder einflussreich, wenn sie auch nicht so offen zu tage liegt, ist die, dass der herr beliebig nicht mehr weiss, wo er seine ursache hat; er fühlt sich infolgedessen wie ein abgeschnittener faden, den die fleissige nadel des lebens haltlos aus- und einzieht, weil man vergessen hat, ihm einen knopf zu machen. eine dritte, jetzt erst aufdämmernde, zum beispiel die, dass man noch nicht nachgerechnet hat, ob und inwieweit es den herrn ebenso-beliebig doppelt und mehrfach gibt; im bereich des erblich möglichen liegt das durchaus, bloss weiss man nicht, wie gross die wahrscheinlichkeit ist, dass es einem wirklich widerfahren könnte, sich selbst zu begegnen, aber ein dumpfer druck davon, dass es bei der heutigen natur des menschen nicht ganz ausgeschlossen sein kann, liegt sozusagen in der luft. und sicher wäre es nicht einmal das schlimmste.

graf leinsdorf, der einen augenblick mit ulrich sprach, erging sich über die adelige einrichtung der kammerherrn. "sechzehn adelige ahnen muss ein kämmerer haben, und darüber halten sich die leute auf, dass das eine arroganz sein soll: aber ich bitt sie, was tun denn die leute selber? nachmachen tun's uns mit ihren rassetheorien" erläuterte er "und übertreiben das gleich in einer ganz und gar unvornehmen weise. meinethalben können wir alle vom gleichen adam abstammen, ein leinsdorf bleibt trotzdem ein leinsdorf, denn das ist lang nicht so sehr eine sache des bluts wie eine der bildung!" seine erlaucht war gereitzt durch das eindringen völkischer elemente in die parallelaktion, das man aus verschiedenen rücksichten bis zu einem gewissen grad dulden musste. der nationalismus war damals bereits nahe daran seine erste blutige blüte zu treiben, aber kein mensch wusste es, denn er sah trotz der nahen erfüllung noch nicht fürchterlich, sondern erst lächerlich aus; sein geistiges anlitz bestand in der hauptsache aus büchern, die mit der fleissigen belesenheit eines gelehrten und der vollen wahllosigkeit des ungeschulten denkens von verfassern zusammengestellt wurden, die irgendwo am land als volksschullehrer oder kleine zollbeamte lebten.

diese auffassung, die man heute fast schon eine natürliche nennen darf, sieht fatalistisch aus, ist es aber nur solange man sie als ein fatum hinnimmt. ein fatum waren aber auch die naturgesetze, ehe man sie erforschte; nachdem dies geschehen war, ist es sogar gelungen, ihnen eine technik überzustülpen. heute fühlt jeder mensch etwas davon, dass diese gesetzmässigkeiten ein haufen von widersprüchen sind und das ihnen zu folgen soviel hiesse, wie jedem einzelnen seiner triebe fröhnen zu können, wobei eben jeder mensch eine wilde und unheimliche freiheit in sich verspürt. sie lässt ihm nur einen vorwärtsführenden weg: das dieses chaos auf eine ähnliche weise, wie das der atombahnen, schliesslich doch einen wert ergebe, und das man mit der genaueren kenntnis des zusammenhangs auch wieder einen sinn haben werde.

das ist ungefähr der sinn des übergangs vom individualismus zum kollektivistischen weltbild, wobei selbstverständlich keine rede davon ist, dass der wert der persönlichkeit aufhöre, sie wird nur eine genauere bewertung erhalten.

Villes Étrangères

2008-02-14T21:21:00.005+01:00

Das Spiel von Schema und Variation / Nur dann, wenn wir aus tragischen Ereignissen etwas lernen wollen, müssen wir sie immer wieder aus unterschiedlichen Blickwinkeln betrachten. Sie mit einem Achselzucken und der Annahme "XY ist eben schlecht" zu beschreiben, wäre schlicht allzu einfach. Aber auch eine Kritik an Begriffen wie das Böse oder der Wahnsinn bringt uns nicht viel weiter. Arbeit bedeutet in den hier relevanten Zusammenhängen, aus dem Spielraum von Klischees und Phrasen Handlungsraum zu gestalten. Was wir hierfür brauchen, sind neue Worte, entstanden aus neuen Gedanken, mit deren Hilfe wir eine neue Geschichte erzählen und den alten Geschichten einen anderen Sprachraum ermöglichen. Doch wo können wir neue Gedanken und Worte für die Sprache einer neuen Geschichte finden, wenn nicht in den Überlieferungen unserer Kultur?

Ein Beispiel: Als Kind wusste ich nicht, wo meine Eltern herkamen - wo sie geboren wurden oder wer ihre Eltern waren. Wenn ich sie nach solchen Dingen fragte, sagten sie immer Dinge wie: "Solange ein Kind im Bauch der Mutter wohnt, steht neben ihm ein Engel mit einer brennenden Kerze und lehrt es alles, was es zu lernen gibt. Und in dem Moment, in dem das Kind geboren wird, löscht der Engel die Kerze aus und das Kind hat gelernt, zu vergessen und zu erinnern." Wenn ich sie fragte, ob sie schwarz oder weiss seien, sagten sie: "Wir sind hellhäutig", und wechselten das Thema. Sie, die Tochter eines orthodoxen Rabbiners und er, der Sohn eines westafrikanischen Ingenieurs, schickten meine Geschwister und mich ausnahmlos auf die Universität. Wir wurden unter anderem Ärzte, Professoren, Chemiker, Lehrer, Künstler, Anwälte und Händler - und dennoch erfuhren wir die Herkunft unserer Eltern erst, als wir erwachsen waren. Ich selbst brauchte fast zwanzig Jahre, um ihre aussergewöhnliche Geschichte auszugraben und meine Eltern erzählten sie eher, um mir einen Gefallen zu tun, als aus dem Bedürfnis heraus, in ihre eigene Vergangenheit zurückzukehren.

Im Gegensatz zu meinen Geschwistern fand ich meine Eltern etwas sonderbar. Ihnen lag nichts daran, sich mit den Nachbarn anzufreunden. Über ihre Vergangenheit sprachen sie grundsätzlich nicht und sie tranken Tee aus Gläsern. Sie konnten jiddisch (wie ich herausfand, als ich sie einmal heimlich belauschte) und sie lachten viel. Sie pflegten ein entschiedenes Misstrauen gegenüber Autoritäten, und unser Privatleben war ihnen heilig. Etwas, das sie, und meine ganze Familie für die anderen Menschen in unserer Umgebung noch sonderbarer machte. Nun gut, wie dem auch sei. Auch nach 1945 hörten sie die Worte die Juden unablässig immer wieder in scheinbar unzusammenhängenden Situationen. Für meine Familie hatte sich in dieser Hinsicht bis heute nichts geändert. Meines Wissens hatte ich selbst bis zu jenen unheilvollen Ereignissen noch nie einen Juden gesehen, aber gelegentlich hatte ich gehört, dass meine Freunde über die Juden sprachen. Einmal bekam ich mit, wie sie sich darüber unterhielten, dass man in dem Krankenhaus, in dem meine Schwester zur Welt kam, einen Arzt entlassen hatte, weil er Jude war. "So eine Schande", sagten meine Eltern, "er war so ein lieber Mensch und so ein guter Arzt." Ich schloss für mich daraus, dass uns keinerlei Gefahr drohe und wir weiterhin in Sicherheit seien.

Diese Haltung änderte sich ziemlich rasch, als meine Sinne allmählich die Ideologie betrachteten, die nicht nur von den Lehrern der Stadt in der wir lebten, an uns weitergegeben wurde. Um sicherzustellen, dass wir Kinder auch die richtigen Inhalte vermittelt bekamen, wurden sämtliche Lehrer entlassen, die als politisch unzuverlässig eingestuft wurden. Darunter fielen alle Lehrer jüdischer Abstammung, Lehrer, die in der kommunistischen oder sozialdemokratischen Partei waren, und auch Lehrer, die sich weigerten, den Eid auf die Freiheitlich-Demokratische Grundordnung zu leisten. Vermutlich eines der ersten Opfer dieser Zeit war unsere Klassenlehrerin. Am Ende des zweiten Schuljahres teilte man uns lediglich mit, dass sie an eine andere Schule versetzt worden sei und ein anderer Lehrer, ihren Platz einnehmen würde. Ich habe nie wieder von ihr gehört und weiss nicht, ob man ihr erlaubte, ihre Lehrerkarriere woanders fortzusetzen. Aber das ist lange her.

Jedenfalls arbeitet die Berichterstattung durch die Medien zu diesen und vergleichbaren Dingen in der Regel durchgängig mit der Polarisierung wir, das heisst, die unschuldigen Opfer und die Seite des Rechts, und sie, sprich die Schuldigen, Täter und ihr Unrecht. Ohne eine gewisse Bereitschaft, diese spezielle Einteilung in wir und die anderen zu ändern, werden wir vermutlich im Morast unserer Vorurteile stecken bleiben oder - was noch schlimmer ist - in Gleichgültigkeit versinken.

Es gibt dazu folgenden Gedanken: um die Realität des Sarin-Anschlags zu begreifen, reicht eine rationale Untersuchung der Motive und Theorien seiner Urheber nicht aus. Ebenso unerlässlich ist eine parallele Auseinandersetzung mit unseren eigenen Motiven und Theorien. Könnte der Schlüssel zur Lösung des grausamen Rätsels, das sie uns nach wie vor aufgeben, eventuell sogar auf unserem Territorium vergraben sein. Wir werden das Phänomen Aum als etwas Unbegreifliches, fundamental Anderes, ausserhalb unserer Gesellschaft stehendes verdrängen, das man gerade noch mit einem Fernglas auf der anderen Seite eines Ozeans erkennen kann. Aber auch wenn uns der Gedanke unangenehm ist, werden wir nicht umhin kommen, sie in unser eigenes System zu integrieren. Weit grösser noch als die Gefahr, den Schlüssel zu den Ereignissen nicht bei uns selbst zu suchen, erscheint mir die Versuchung, diesen Anschlag aus einer Distanz zu betrachten, die seine Bedeutung auf ein mikroskopisches, mit blossem Auge nicht mehr erkennbares Ausmass reduziert.

Für Verdrängung und ausweichendes Verhalten gibt es natürlich immer einen bestimmten Grund. Ich selbst erinnere mich noch gut daran, dass Aum sich bei den Unterhauswahlen im Februar 1990 zur Wahl stellte. Asahara kandidierte für den Bezirk Shibuya, in dem ich damals wohnte, und seine Kampagne bestand aus einem ungewöhnlichen Spektakel. Tag für Tag fuhren kleine Lastwagen durch das viertel, aus deren Lautsprechern eine sonderbare Musik ertönte, während weissgewandete junge Männer und Frauen in überdimensionalen Asahara-Masken und Elefantenköpfen winkend und tanzend die Strassen vor meiner U-Bahn-Station säumten. Damals war ich zum ersten mal mit der Existenz von Aum konfrontiert und wandte mich beim Anblick ihrer Wahlpropaganda angewidert ab. Andere Passanten zeigten ähnliche Reaktionen und gingen eilig weiter, ohne die Aum-Anhänger zu beachten. Ich verspürte einen undefinierbaren Schauder, einen mir selbst nicht ganz erklärlichen Ekel, aber ich machte mir auch nicht die Mühe, darüber nachzudenken, woher dieser Abscheu kam. Aum hatte nichts mit mir zu tun. 80 bis 90 Prozent aller Leute würden wahrscheinlich das gleiche tun - vorbeigehen, wegsehen, nicht weiter darüber nachdenken, vergessen. Vermutlich haben die Intellektuellen der Weimarer Republik ganz ähnlich reagiert, als sie Hitler zum ersten Mal begegneten.

Im nachhinein kommt mir meine instinktive, fast überzogene Abwehr dennoch seltsam vor. Im Grunde sind die Strassen doch voll von Anhängern so genannter neuer Religionen, die um Mitglieder werben. Gleichwohl empfinden wir, zumindest gilt das für mich, ihnen gegenüber keinen derartigen Abscheu. Wir nehmen sie zur Kenntnis, und damit hat sich's. Die Tamburin schlagenden, "hare krishna" singenden Jugendlichen mit den rasierten Köpfen sind zwar ein sonderbarer Anblick, dennoch wende ich meine Blicke nicht angeekelt von ihnen ab. Warum tat ich es bei den Anhängern der Aum-Sekte? Was verstörte mich an ihnen so? Ich habe hierzu eine Hypothese. Das Aum-Phänomen verunsichert gerade deshalb, weil es eben doch etwas mit uns zu tun hat. Es ist wie ein Spiegel, aus dem uns unser verzerrtes Abbild entgegengrinst und uns sozusagen ein scharfes Messer an die Kehle setzt. Die hare-krishnas und andere neue Religionen können wir sofort, noch ehe sie richtig in unser Bewusstsein vorgedrungen sind, als bedeutungslos einordnen. Bei der Aum-Sekte war das aus irgendeinem Grund nicht der Fall, und weil ihre Gegenwart (ihr Auftreten, ihr Tanz, ihr Gesang) aktiv und bewusst verdrängt werden musste, verunsicherte sie uns so sehr. Psychologisch gesehen, ich werde die Psychologie nur dieses mal bemühen, sehen sie es mir also nach, verweisen Bilder, die in uns ein starkes psychisches Unbehagen hervorrufen, in Wirklichkeit häufig auf eigene Fehler und Schwächen. Vielleicht würde das meine spontane Abneigung vor dem Bahnhof erklären. Natürlich behaupte ich nicht, dass sie oder ich unter Umständen auch der Aum-Sekte beigetreten wären und Sarin in der U-Bahn freigesetzt hätten. Das wäre unrealistisch und zu weit hergeholt. Ich will damit nur sagen, dass etwas von Aum auch in uns existieren muss, um eine so bewusste Ablehnung zu provozieren. Vereinfacht gesprochen, wären sie dann ein verzerrtes Spiegelbild von uns. Nun ist ein Spiegelbild natürlich stets unscharf und schief. Konvex und konkav, richtig und falsch, Licht und Schatten tauschen die Plätze. Doch wenn man das Unscharfe und Verzerrte beiseite lässt, haben die beiden Bilder grosse Ähnlichkeit und passen teilweise genau aufeinander. Deshalb vermeiden wir es - bewusst oder unbewusst -, dieses Spiegelbild genauer zu betrachten, und sehen lieber über die Unstimmigkeiten hinweg. Wir verbannen die Schatten in ein unterirdisches Reich in unserem Inneren und tragen sie dort mit uns herum.

Interessanterweise entspricht die Vorgehensweise des sogenannten Una-Bombers fast genau derjenigen der Aum-Sekte. Zum Beispiel schickte Aum eine Paketbombe ins Tokyoter Rathaus. Theodore Kaczynskis Ideen sind Aums Ideologie sogar noch enger verwandt als seine Methoden und in ihren Grundzügen ist Kaczynskis Argumentation auch nicht falsch. Viele Segmente des gesellschaftlichen Systems zielen tatsächlich darauf ab, individuelle Autonomie zu verhindern und viele Menschen werden von ihrer Umgebung daran gehindert, ein freies Leben zu führen. Aus der Perspektive der Aum-Anhänger betrachtet, war es tatsächlich so, dass sie, als sie eine gewisse Autonomie zu behaupten versuchten, vom Staat als gegen die Gesellschaft gerichtete Bewegung und auszumerzende Krankheit klassifiziert wurden. Ihre zunehmend antisoziale Haltung war zum Teil eine Folge davon. Dennoch hat Kaczynski - wissentlich oder unwissentlich - einen entscheidenden Aspekt übersehen: Autonomie kann nur im Wechselspiel mit gesellschaftlicher Eingebundenheit entstehen. Das eine existiert nicht ohne das andere. Setzt man einen Säugling allein auf einer Insel aus, erwächst für ihn daraus keine Autonomie. Letztlich stehen die beiden Zustände in einer konstanten Wechselbeziehung, die unauflöslich ist wie die von Licht und Schatten. Jeder Mensch sieht sich zunächst mit der Aufgabe konfrontiert, experimentell seinen Platz als Individuum in der Welt zu entdecken.

Ich habe mit dem Sammeln des Materials für dieses Buch neun Monate nach dem Anschlag begonnen und dann mehr als ein Jahr daran gearbeitet. Das heisst, zum Zeitpunkt der Interviews war schon eine gewisse Zeit vergangen, in der sich die Geschichte "abgekühlt" hatte. Da es sich um eine sehr tiefgehende Erfahrung handelte, waren die Erinnerungen meiner Gesprächspartner noch frisch. Viele von ihnen hatten von ihren Erlebnissen immer wieder berichtet. Einige hingegen hatten seither mit kaum jemandem über den Anschlag gesprochen, oder sie hatten gewisse Einzelheiten nie erzählt. Dennoch hatten alle die Ereignisse innerlich wieder und wieder durchdacht und sie auf diese Weise objektiviert. Daher waren die meisten Berichte sehr realistisch und plastisch, auch wenn sie Erinnerungen bleiben. Nach der Definition eines Psychoanalytikers sind die Erinnerungen eines Menschen nichts weiter als die persönliche Deutung spezifischer Ereignisse. Zum Beispiel lässt sich eine Erfahrung leichter verarbeiten, wenn sie durch den Gedächtnisapparat gefiltert wurde. Dabei werden unerwünschte Teile einfach ausgesondert. Die Reihenfolge des Geschehens kann vertauscht und Unstimmiges stimmig gemacht werden. Die eigenen Erinnerungen vermischen sich mit denen anderer und werden nötigenfalls ausgetauscht. All das geschieht ganz natürlich und unbewusst. Einfach ausgedrückt: die Erinnerung an unsere Erlebnisse wird in eine erzählerische Form gebracht. Bei diesem Prozess handelt es sich mehr oder weniger um eine natürliche Funktionsweise des menschlichen Bewusstseins, die zum Beispiel von Schriftstellern bewusst und professionell genutzt wird. Auch wenn die Wirklichkeit des Erzählten etwas von der Wirklichkeit des Geschehenen abweicht, ist die Geschichte deshalb nicht gelogen, sondern immer noch unverkennbar Wahrheit, wenn auch in anderer Form.

Beim Sammeln meines Materials habe ich mich prinzipiell bemüht, die Aussagen jeder Person innerhalb des Kontexts ihrer Geschichte für wahr zu erachten; das ist immer noch meine Überzeugung. Obwohl die Geschichten von den Personen, die gleichzeitig das gleiche erlebt haben, häufig in Einzelheiten voneinander abweichen, werden sie hier mit allen Widersprüchen präsentiert. Zudem bin ich ohnehin der Ansicht, dass diese Abweichungen und Widersprüche selbst etwas besagen. In unserer facettenreichen Welt sagt das Unstimmige häufig mehr aus als das Stimmige.

/ mixed sources.

Du Tourisme

2008-02-14T21:21:00.001+01:00

der kunstreisende, wie sie ihn nannten, war ein dozent, der mit der schmetterlingshaut und dem botanisiertrommelgeist des strebenden kunsthistorikers aus italienischen städten kam. er hatte hier station gemacht, um sich vor der rückkehr einige tage zu erholen und sein material zu ordnen. da sie die einzigen gäste waren, stellte er sich schon am ersten tag den geschwistern vor, man sprach nach den mahlzeiten, oder wenn man sich in der nähe des hauses traf, ein wenig miteinander, und es war nicht zu leugnen, dass dieser mann, obgleich sie über ihn lachte, in gewissen augenblicken eine willkommene entspannung vermittelte.

er war sehr davon überzeugt, dass er als mann und gelehrter etwas bedeute, und machte ihr von der ersten begegnung an, nachdem er erfahren hatte, dass das paar sich nicht auf einer hochzeitsreise befände, mit grosser bestimmtheit den hof. er sagte ihr: "sie ähneln der schönen ... auf dem bilde von ... und alle frauen mit diesem ausdruck, der sich im stirnhaar und in den kleiderfalten wiederholt, haben die eigenschaft ... ."

als sie es ihrem bruder erzählen wollte, hatte sie die details aus dieser unterhaltung schon wieder vergessen, aber es war angenehm wie der feste druck eines masseurs, wenn ein fremder mensch weiss, was man ist, während man sich eben noch so aufgelöst wusste, dass man sich kaum von dem schweigen des mittags unterscheiden konnte. dieser kunstreisende sagte: "frauen sind dazu da, uns träumen zu lassen; sie sind eine list der natur zur befruchtung des männlichen geistes." er schillerte wohlgefällig auf sein paradoxon, welches den sinn der befruchtung umkehrte. sie erwiderte: "es bestehen aber immerhin unterschiede in der art dieser träume!" "ich habe herausgefunden", sagte der kunsthistoriker, "dass es zwei arten von menschen gibt und im lauf der geschichte immer wieder gegeben hat. ich nenne sie die statischen und die dynamischen. wenn sie wollen, die kaiserlichen und die faustischen. die statiker können ein glück als gegenwärtig empfinden. sie sind irgendwie durch ein gleichgewicht charakterisiert. was sie getan haben, und was sie tun werden, greift durch das, was sie eben tun, ineinander über, ist harmonisiert und hat eine gestalt wie ein bild oder eine melodie. hat gewissermassen eine zweite dimension, leuchtet in jedem augenblick als fläche. der pabst zum beispiel, oder der dalai lama; es ist einfach undenkbar, dass sie etwas täten, was nicht in den rahmen ihrer bedeutung eingespannt wäre. dagegen die dynamischen: die sich immer losreissen, vor und zurück bloss blickenden, aus sich heraus rollenden, die unempfindlichen menschen mit aufgaben, unersättlichen, drängenden, glücklosen, - welche die statiker immer wieder überwinden, um die weltgeschichte in gang zu halten."

mit einem wort: er liess durchblicken, dass er wohl beide in sich zu tragen vermöge. "sagen sie", fragte sie, als ob er ganz ernst wäre, "sind die dynamiker nicht auch die, welche in der liebe nichts zu fühlen scheinen, weil sie entweder schon in der phantasie gelebt haben oder erst das wieder entglittene lieben werden? man könnte doch auch das behaupten?" "ganz richtig!" sagte der dozent. "sie sind unmoralisch und ein träumer", erwiderte sie. "diese menschen, welche den rechten punkt zwischen vernunft und vergangenheit niemals finden können - es wird ihnen zum kotzen!" "nun, das möchte ich nicht behaupten", entgegnete er. "doch, doch. sie können verrückt gute oder böse taten begehen, weil ihnen das gegenwärtige nichts bedeutet."

darauf wusste der kunstgelehrte nicht recht zu erwidern und fand, dass sie ihn nicht verstand.

La Ville (Supplement)

2008-01-26T21:25:00.001+01:00

Raymond Barre un « Français innocent »? /
Premier ministre, Monsieur Raymond Barre était tout en rondeurs : on pouvait aisément le regarder comme le paradigme du Français innocent, il en avait les airs, les allures, l’onction, le patelin, le débonnaire, il exsudait le bon droit, la légitimité, la satisfaction et le sûreté de soi. Même si aujourd’hui Raymond Barre a gagné en minceur, sa francité n’en a souffert nulle atteinte, on serait presque tenté d’ajouter « hélas ». Ce qui fait problème, s’agissant de lui, c’est la confluence des deux prédicats : « français » et « innocent ». Monsieur Barre en effet récidive : interrogé sur France Culture, le 1er mars, dans une émission intitulée « Le rendez-vous des politiques », l’ex- « meilleur économiste de France » tombe carrément le masque, remplace ses rondeurs anciennes par la hargne têtue, laisse libre carrière à une vindicte qui lui fait réitérer, le jabot gonflé des satisfecit qu’il s’octroie, les proférations sinistres d’il y a vingt-sept ans. La différence, c’est qu’en 1980, quand, après l’attentat de la synagogue de la rue Copernic, Raymond Barre déplorait la mort de « Français innocents », il le faisait « innocemment » si l’on peut dire, parlant selon sa pente naturelle, ne comprenant rien au scandale et à la condamnation unanimes qu’allaient susciter ses propos. Aujourd’hui, il sait, il ne peut pas ne pas savoir, il n’a pas un mot de regret et, voulant mettre les points sur les i, il s’enferre d’une façon aussi révoltante que comique. Que les terroristes massacrent des Juifs à l’intérieur d’une synagogue n’a, pour Monsieur Barre, rien de contraire à l’ordre du monde et au train des choses. Ce qu’il reproche aux auteurs de l’attentat, c’est de ne pas avoir assez « ciblé » l’assassinat, c’est la bavure qui a transformé l’explosion en « attentat aveugle » puisque trois « François innocent », « pas du tout liés à cette affaire » (sic) y ont laissé leur vie. « Ce qui était la caractéristique de ceux qui faisaient l’attentat, c’était de châtier des Juifs coupables » (sic), poursuit-il. Coupables de quoi ? Nul ne le sait, Monsieur Barre ne le dit pas mais on infère aisément : ontologiquement coupables. Tuer, comme ce fut le cas, mon amie, l’Israélienne Aliza Shagir, qui passait elle aussi par hasard, rue Copernic, tuer des femmes juives, des enfants juifs, des vieillards juifs, comme cela arrive ailleurs dans les cafeterias et les autobus, ce n’est pas une action aveugle, mais ciblée et méditée au contraire, puisque, coupables, les Juifs attirent un juste châtiment : en d’autres termes, le terrorisme aveugle semble ne pas gêner Raymond Barre, pourvu qu’il soit ciblé !

Ayant dit, l’ex-Premier enfile les perles dans un très cohérent délire. Après avoir longuement exonéré Maurice Papon de toute faute (la déportation des Juifs n’etait de « faire fonctionner la France »), il reprend à son compte, en la portant à son acmé, l’antienne de la médaille France, tous deux concouraient, chacun à sa façon, à maintenir la Nation en ordre de marche. La Nation, c’est-à-dire les « grands commis » à la Papon et la sacro-sainte admisnistration. Une extraordinaire division du travail et un génie certain de la communication font, selon Barre, que de Gaulle, dès la Libération, maintient en place et en France les fonctionnaires de Vichy pas trop compromis, tandis qu’il expédie au contraire en Allemagne, pour administrer les vaincus, « ceux qui s’étaient trop manifestés dans les voies de la collaboration » (sic !). On n’avait encore jamais entendu cela, le général Pierre Koenig, vainqueur de Bir-Hakeim et premier gouverneur militaire français en Allemagne occupée, doit frémir dans son sépulcre !

Après Papon, l’ex exonère Bruno Gollnish, son ancien collègue d’université et son conseiller municipal quand il était maire de Lyon, bien connu comme négateur obstiné et pinailleur de la Shoah : « Moi, je suis quelqu’un qui considère que les gens peuvent avoir leur opinion, c’est leur opinion » (sic). Raymond Barre, on le voit, est large d’esprit. A la fin des fins, conclusion de tout, il nous livre à deux reprises la clé universelle des attaques portées contre lui et des maux du monde : « le Lobby juif » ! Le lobby juif est un fait de nature : de même que le soleil se lève et que l’eau bout à 100 °C, il y a un lobby juif et c’est lui le reponsable. « Je vous ai parlé très franchement », dit-il à Raphael Enthoven, le présentateur de l’emission : « Que vous me fassiez passer pour un antisémite, pour quelqu’un qui ne reconnaît pas la Shoah, j’ai entendu cela cent fois et cela m’est totalement égal. » Diantre ! Entre le « Lobby juif », la « Conspiration des sages de Sion », la « Juiverie internationale », il faut un trébuchet ultrasensible pour déceler une différence de nature. Même si cela lui est « totalement égal », j’accuse Monsieur Raymond Barre d’être un antisémite. Plus encore : je l’accuse de se faire le héraut de cette passion immonde, de la propager, de s’en glorifier, délit qui tombe sous le coup de la loi.

Cet article a été publié le 6 mars, dans Libération, sous le titre «J’accuse Raymond Barre d’être un antisémite», choisi par la rédaction du journal sans que j’aie été consulté ni averti. J’ai tenu à rétablir ici le titre que j’avais donné à mon texte.

/ De Claude Lanzmann.

//

... während meiner arbeit an diesem buch besuchte ich so oft wie möglich die gerichtsverhandlungen gegen die wegen des giftgasanschlags auf die u-bahn in tokyo angeklagten mitglieder der aum-sekte. ich wollte diese menschen mit eigenen augen sehen und mit eigenen ohren hören, was sie zu sagen hatten, um zu erfahren, wer sie waren und was sie dachten. stattdessen wurde ich zeuge unendlich trauriger und, hoffnungsloser und bedrückter szenen. der gerichtssaal kam mir vor wie ein raum ohne ausgang. nachdem wir doch irgendwie hineingelangt waren, hatte er sich in eine alptraumhafte sphäre verwandelt, aus der es kein entkommen gab.

die meisten angeklagten scheinen jeden glauben an ihren guru shoko asahara verloren zu haben. der angebetete meister hat sich als falscher prophet entpuppt, und sie müssen zunehmend erkennen, wie sehr er sie für seine wahnsinnigen zwecke missbraucht hat. dass sie durch ihren gehorsam grausame verbrechen gegen die menschlichkeit begangen haben, hat sie in tiefste selbstzweifel gestürzt, und sie zeigen reue. zumeist sagen sie, wenn sie von ihrem guru sprechen, heute nur noch "asahara", ohne respektvollen titel. bisweilen schwingt sogar ein abfälliger ton mit. ihre einsicht und angst wirken aufrichtig auf mich. kaum vorstellbar, dass diese leute sich zu einer so abscheulichen, sinnlosen tat überreden liessen.

andererseits haben sie an einem gewissen punkt ihres lebens alle weltlichen bindungen gelöst und bei aum shirikyo ein mystisches ideal gesucht - was sie offenbar nicht bereuen. ganz deutlich wird dies, wenn die angeklagten - vom richter zu einzelheiten befragt - die lehre ihrer gemeinschaft zu erklären suchen. dabei fällt häufig der satz: "für die allgemeinheit ist das vielleicht schwer zu verstehen, aber ... " diese ausdrucksweise belegt meines erachtens, dass sie eine spirituelle überlegenheit gegenüber der "allgemeinheit" für sich in anspruch nehmen und sich in gewisserweise immer noch für auserwählt halten. sie sprechen es nicht aus, aber ich lese darin etwa folgende botschaft: "die verbrechen, die wir begangen haben, tun uns unendlich leid. wir haben fehler gemacht. verantwortlich ist jedoch asahara, der uns den befehl dazu gegeben hat. wenn er nicht den verstand verloren hätte, hätten wir unsere aufrichtigen religiösen ziele friedlich, ohne jemanden zu befehligen, verfolgen können." kurz gesagt: "unsere mittel waren falsch. wir bereuen, was wir getan haben. dennoch sind die ziele von aum im kern nicht falsch, und es ist nicht notwendig, sie zu verwerfen."

auf diese überzeugung von der "richtigkeit der ziele" bin ich nicht nur bei meinen interviews mit aum-mitgliedern gestossen, sondern auch bei jenen, die aum verlassen haben und die gemeinschaft jetzt offen kritisieren. alle habe ich die gleiche frage gestellt: ob sie bereuen, aum je begetreten zu sein. fast alle haben dies verneint; kaum jemand betrachtete seine zeit bei aum als vergeudet. warum wohl? das ist leicht zu beantworten: diese menschen entdeckten bei aum eine reinheit der absichten, die sie im alltäglichen leben nicht fanden. selbst wenn alles mit einem schrecklichen alptraum zu ende ging, ist ihnen die warme, strahlende erinnerung an den frieden geblieben, den sie anfangs bei aum fanden. dieses gefühl ist nicht leicht zu ersetzen. man kann also sagen, dass aum in ihnen noch lebendig ist und ihnen sogar energie verleiht. das bedeutet nicht, dass sie möglicherweise zu aum zurückkehren würden. sie wissen jetzt, dass es sich um eine falsche und gefährliche ideologie handelte und das ihre beziehungen zu aum voller widersprüche und defizite war.

dennoch habe ich den eindruck, dass eine idealvorstellung von aum in ihnen weiterlebt, eine lichte, utopische erinnerung, die sich ihnen tief eingeprägt hat. und sollte eines tages wieder ein ähnliches licht vor ihnen aufleuchten - es muss nicht einmal eine sekte sein -, werden die alten erinnerungen sie vielleicht wieder dorthin ziehen. daher bergen "aum-ähnliche lehren" für unsere gesellschaft im augenblick grössere gefahren als aum selbst. nach dem sarin-anschlag richteten sich aller augen und ohren auf aum-shinrikyo. immer wieder wurde die frage laut, warum "eine so hoch gebildete elite" sich einer so absurden und gefährlichen sekte zugewandt hatte. tatsächlich setzte sich die führungsspitze von aum fast ausschliesslich aus gut gebildeten akademikern zusammen. so ist es kein wunder, dass die gesellschaft davon schockiert war. der umstand, dass menschen mit derart vielversprechenden aufstiegsmöglichkeiten so leicht auf den status, den die gesellschaft ihnen anbietet, verzichten, um sich stattdessen einer sekte anzuschliessen, gilt vielen beobachtern als ernst zu nehmendes indiz für einen entscheidenden defekt des japanischen erziehungssystems.

während meiner gespräche mit mitgliedern und auch ehemaligen mitgliedern von aum gewann ich jedoch den deutlichen eindruck, dass sie diesen weg nicht trotz ihrer zugehörigkeit zu einer gesellschaftlichen elite eingeschlagen hatten, sondern im gegenteil gerade deswegen. hier bietet sich ein vergleich mit der rolle an, die in der vorkriegszeit für viele japanische intellektuelle die mandschurei gespielt hat. 1932 hatte japan auf chinesischem boden den marionettenstaat "manchukuo" errichtet, und wie bei aum shinrikyo gab eine akademische elite - die besten verwaltungstechniker, naturwissenschaftler und gelehrten - eine vielversprechende zukunft in japan auf, um neue möglichkeiten jenseits des ozeans zu suchen. die meisten von ihnen waren jung, voller ehrgeiziger pläne, sehr begabt und gut ausgebildet. wenn sie jedoch den restriktiven strukturen des japanischen staates unterworfen blieben, würden sie ihre fähigkeiten niemals ganz zur wirkung bringen können. genau aus diesem grund entschieden sie sich für jenes flexiblere land, das experimente zuliess, auch wenn dies bedeutete, einen vorgegebenen, sicheren pfad zu verlassen.

in diesem punkt waren jene jungen intellektuellen idealistisch und ihre motive rein. zudem waren sie überzeugt, einem höheren zweck zu dienen und sich auf dem richtigen pfad zu befinden. aber ihrem unternehmen fehlte ein entscheidender aspekt. heute wissen wir, dass dasjenige, was fehlte, "ein mehrdimensionales historisches bewusstsein" war; oder, auf konkreter ebene, eine "verbindung zwischen wort und tat". dagegen begannen beschönigende schlagworte wie "die harmonie der fünf völker" oder "die ganze welt unter einem dach" ein eigenleben zu führen, während im hintergrund die blutige realität das moralische vakuum füllte, bis der sturmwind der geschichte die ehrgeizigen technokraten davonwirbelte. der sarin-anschlag der aum-sekte liegt noch nicht lange zurück, als dass alle seine implikationen genau zu analysieren wären. dennoch lässt sich dasjenige, was ich über die bedeutung der mandschurei gesagt habe, in eingeschränkter form auch auf aum anwenden. beiden bewegungen fehlte die anbindung in einen grösseren zusammenhang, und aus diesem mangel an wirklichkeitsbezug ergab sich die besagte diskrepanz zwischen sprache und handeln.

zweifellos hatten die angehörigen des aum-ministeriums für wissenschaft und technik in der regel ganz verschiedene gründe für ihren entschluss, der welt zu entsagen und sich aum anzuschliessen. gemeinsam war ihnen jedoch der wunsch, ihre fachkenntnisse und fähigkeiten in den dienst eines hören ziels zu stellen, da sie begründete zweifel an der unmenschlichen, utilitaristischen tretmühle des gesellschaftssystems hatten, dem sie angehörten und an das sie ihre fähigkeiten und bemühungen nicht länger verschwenden wollten; denn damit hätten sie den sieg ihrer existenz verfehlt. ikuo hayashi, durch dessen beteiligung am sarin-anschlag zwei u-bahn-beamte ums leben kamen, gehört eindeutig zu diesem typus. er galt als ein ausgezeichneter chirurg, der sich leidenschaftlich für seine patienten engagierte. vielleicht entwickelte er gerade darum ein tiefes misstrauen gegen unser widersprüchliches, mangelhaftes gesundheitssystem und fühlte sich so stark von der aktiv spirituellen welt aum shinrikyos angezogen, die ihm eine überwältigende, vollkommene utopie anbot.

in seinem buch aum und ich beschreibt er seine damaligen vorstellungen: "in seiner predigt schilderte asahara uns das 'shambala-programm'. dazu gehörte der bau des 'lotus village', in dem es ein astral-krankenhaus und eine shinri-schule geben sollte, die eine gründliche ausbildung gewährleisten würde. (...) die medizinische behandlung sollte nach einer astral-medizin erfolgen, die auf asaharas visionen von einer weiteren (astralen) dimension und den erinnerungen an frühere leben basierte. die astral-medizin erforschte das karma und den energie-zustand des patienten, unter berücksichtigung des todes und der seelenwanderung (...) ich träumte von einer natürlichen landschaft, in der einzelne gebäude verstreut im grünen lagen. dort würde ich mich mit meiner ganzen kraft der medizinischen versorgung und meiner askese widmen. mein traum und 'lotus village' waren eins." hayashi träumte also davon, sich einer utopie zu verschreiben, unbelastet von irdischen zwängen strenge askese zu üben sowie eine medizin zu praktizieren, die er aus ganzem herzen vertreten konnte, und damit so vielen patienten wie möglich zu helfen. selbstverständlich waren seine absichten lauter, und die beschriebene vision besitzt einen tugendhaften glanz.

betrachtet man das ganze jedoch einmal nüchtern, wird deutlich, wie weit diese unschuldige schilderung von der wirklichkeit entfernt ist. die landschaft erscheint uns wie ein eigenartig flaches gemälde, ohne perspektive oder tiefenschärfe. wären wir damals, als dr hayashi aum-mitglied wurde, mit ihm befreundet gewesen und hätten versucht, ihm vor augen zu führen, dass seine vorstellungen realitätsfremd seien, hätten wir vermutlich keinen erfolg damit gehabt. andererseits hätten wir dr hayashi etwas sehr einfaches sagen können: wirklichkeit ent- und besteht aus widersprüchen, und wenn man diese ausschliesst, kommt auch die wirklichkeit abhanden. und: selbst wenn man zunächst glaubt, sie durch raffinierte sprache und logik eliminieren zu können, wird die scheinbar besiegte wirklichkeit ihrem feind irgendwo auflauern und sich rächen. wahrscheinlich hätte diese argumentation dr hayashi nicht überzeugen können. er hätte mit fachterminologie und logik geschickt widersprochen und erklärt, wie richtig und gut der weg doch sei, den er gehen würde. bis wir dann irgendwann geschwiegen hätten.

das schlimme daran ist, dass eine der realität entfremdete sprache und logik häufig grössere macht entwickeln als die sprache und logik der wirklichkeit, denn das ganze konglomerat aus verwirrung und widersprüchen liegt ihr wie ein felsbrocken im weg. so hätten wir, unfähig, einander zu verstehen, schliesslich getrennte wege gehen müssen. bei der lektüre von dr hayashis aufzeichnungen müssen wir oft nachdenklich innehalten und uns fragen, wie es überhaupt so weit kommen konnte. gleichzeitig ergreift uns ein gefühl von ohnmacht, weil wir wissen, dass wir ihn niemals hätten zurückhalten können. eine seltsame traurigkeit nimmt von uns besitz. besonders niedergeschlagen macht uns der gedanke, dass ausgerechnet diejenigen, die unserer "zweckorientierten gesellschaft" so kritisch gegenüberstanden, das argument der nützlichkeit gebraucht und am ende so viele menschen umgebracht haben. andererseits hält sich wahrscheinlich niemand für so unbedeutend, dass es ihm nichts ausmachen würde, in den mühlen eines systems zermalmt zu werden und dann zu sterben. eigentlich möchten wir doch alle wissen, wozu wir auf der welt sind und warum wir am ende sterben und verschwinden. steht es uns da überhaupt zu, menschen zu verurteilen, die sich ernsthaft um antworten bemühen?

doch genau an dieser stelle könnte uns ein tödlicher fehler unterlaufen. die physiognomie der wirklichkeit beginnt sich zu verzerren; plötzlich erkennen wir, dass der ort der verheissung sich verändert hat und nicht mehr derjenige ist, dem unsere suche galt. wie es in mark strands gedicht heisst: "die berge sind keine berge mehr; die sonne ist nicht die sonne." damit es keinen zweiten und dritten ikuo hayashi mehr geben wird, ist für unsere gesellschaft von essentieller wichtigkeit, die fragen, die durch den sarin-anschlag tragischerweise aufgeworfen wurden, in all ihren facetten zu analysieren. anscheinend haben die meisten von uns mit der sache abgeschlossen. vor sie war es schlimmer vorfall, aber nun, da alle schuldigen hinter schloss und riegel sind, fühlen sie sich nicht mehr direkt betroffen. dennoch sollten wir uns vor augen führen, dass der grossteil der menschen, die sich einer sekte anschliessen, nicht sonderlich aus dem rahmen fallen. sie sind weder auf der strecke gebliebene noch exzentriker, sondern völlig normale (vielleicht sogar allzu normale) menschen, die in unserer mitte leben. vielleicht grübeln sie ein bisschen zu viel. oder sie tragen einen kleinen kummer im herzen. oder sie können sich ihren mitmenschen nicht öffnen und sind deshalb bedrückt. oder sie finden keine möglichkeit, sich zu verwirklichen, und schwanken heftig zwischen stolz und minderwertigkeitsgefühlen hin und her. vielleicht gehöre ich selbst zu ihnen. oder sie.

ich habe noch ein weiteres persönliches motiv, mich für den sarin-anschlag in tokyo zu interessieren: er fand unterirdisch statt. unterirdische welten wie brunnen, gänge, höhlen, unterirdische flussläufe und kanäle, u-bahnen und dergleichen mehr haben mich als schriftsteller und als individuum schon immer stark fasziniert. die idee einer verborgenen passage - allein schon die vorstellung beflügelt meine phantasie und lässt in mir geschichten entstehen. in zweien meiner romane spielen unterirdische schauplätze eine besonders wichtige rolle. die helden steigen auf der suche nach etwas bestimmtem in unterirdische welten hinab und erleben dort allerlei abenteuer. natürlich tauchen sie in zweifacher hinsicht in diese unterwelten ein: physisch und psychisch. in dem einen roman lebt unter der erde seit undenklichen zeiten eine erfundene spezies. es sind grässliche kreaturen ohne augen, die sich von verwesendem fleisch ernähren. sie haben unter der stadt tokyo ein weit verzweigtes netz von gängen gegraben, die ihre nester verbinden. gewöhnliche menschen ahnen nichts von ihrer existenz.

der held des romans steigt in diese geheimnisvolle unterirdische welt hinab und stösst auf die grausigen spuren der schwärzlinge. er bahnt sich einen weg durch die finstere tiefe und gelangt an der u-bahn-station aoyama-itchome unversehrt wieder in die oberwelt. nachdem ich diesen roman geschrieben hatte, bildete ich mir manchmal, wenn ich mit der u-bahn fuhr, ein, ich sähe diese kreaturen in der dunkelheit. ich stellte mir vor, sie würden einen felsen auf die schienen rollen, den strom unterbrechen, die fenster einschlagen, in die wagen eindringen und uns fahrgäste mit ihren messerscharfen zähnen zerfetzen ... zugegeben, eine sehr kindliche phantasie. wie in einem billigen horrorfilm. dennoch hatte ich, wenn ich an der tür stand, das gefühl, wenn sich in der dunkelheit im glas die vorbeihuschenden pfeiler spiegelten, die abscheulichen kreaturen zu sehen. als ich von dem sarin-anschlag in der u-bahn erfuhr, fielen mir diese kreaturen ganz unwillkürlich wieder ein. einer persönlichen angst - oder einem wahn - zufolge bildete ich mir ein, es gäbe zwischen den von mir geschaffenen bösen wesen und jenen finsteren eindringlingen, die den pendlern in der u-bahn aufgelauert hatten, eine verbindung.

diese verbindung hat für mich eine grosse bedeutung und war mein persönliches motiv, das vorliegende buch herauszugeben. ich hatte nicht die absicht, die angehörigen der aum-sekte als grässliche ungeheuer zu bezeichnen, und dass ich dem einen meiner romane diese kreaturen geschaffen habe, sagt höchstens etwas über meine urängste aus. vielleicht entspringen sie einem urgrund unseres bewusstseins, dem kollektiven unterbewussten. für mich bedeuten sie schlicht den inbegriff der gefahren, die stets im dunkeln lauern und denen wir in wirklichkeit nie begegnen. dennoch drängen diese in tiefster finsternis verborgenen "monster" zeitweise nach oben und nehmen in unserem bewusstsein gestalt an. normalerweise fliehen wir vor den phänomenen des dunkels und ziehen das licht der sonne vor. aber bisweilen finden wir im schutz der dunkelheit trost und heilung. auch das brauchen wir. weiter aber wagen wir uns nicht voran; die verschlossene tür, die ins tiefste innere führt, dürfen wir unter keinen umständen öffnen. denn jenseits von ihr entfaltet sich die undurchdringlich finstere geschichte der schwärzlinge. daher haben in meiner persönlichen deutung (in meiner geschichte) die fünf täter der aum-sekte, die mit ihren schirmspitzen jene mit sarin gefüllten plastikbeutel durchstiessen, im dunklen untergrund von tokyo schwärme von schwärzlingen freigelassen. allein die vorstellung, erfüllt mich mit grauen, angst und ekel. auch wenn es banal klingt, muss ich es laut aussprechen: "das hätten sie niemals tun dürfen. aus keinem erdenklichen grund."

/ von haruki murakami.

La Ville (Ma Ville)

2008-01-26T21:20:00.002+01:00

... // open house /

please ...

come over to 81st street i'm in the apartment above the bar
you know you can't miss it, it's across from the subway
and the tacky store with the mylar scarves
my skin's as pale as outdoors moon
my hair's silver like a tiffany watch
i like lots of people around me but don't kiss hello
and please don't touch
it's a czechoslovakian custom my mother passed on to me:
"the way to make friends, andy, is invite them up for tea"
open house, open house ...

i've got a lot of cats, here's my favorite
she's lady called sam
i made a paper doll of her, you can have it
that's what i did when i had st.vitus dance
it's a czechoslovakian custom my mother passed on to me
"give people little presents so they remember me"
open house, open house ...

someone bring the vegetables, someone please bring heat
my mother showed up yesterday, we need something to eat

i think i got a job today they want me to draw shoes
the ones I drew were old and used,
they told me to draw something new
open house, open house ...

fly me to the moon, fly me to a star
but there are no stars in the new york sky
they're all on the ground
you scared yourself with music, i scared myself with paint
i drew 550 different shoes today
it almost made me faint
open house, open house ...

/ By Lou Reed (with John Cale).

Du Mouvement

2008-01-25T21:20:00.001+01:00

Begegnung in der Kastanienallee /

Ihm ward des Eingangs grüne Dunkelheit
kühl wie ein Seidenmantel umgegeben
den er noch nahm und ordnete: als eben
am anderen transparenten Ende, weit,

aus grüner Sonne, wie aus grünen Scheiben,
weiß eine einzelne Gestalt
aufleuchtete, um lange fern zu bleiben
und schließlich, von dem Lichterniedertreiben
bei jedem Schritte überwallt,

ein helles Wechseln auf sich herzutragen,
das scheu im Blond nach hinten lief.
Aber auf einmal war der Schatten tief,
und nahe Augen lagen aufgeschlagen

in einem neuen deutlichen Gesicht,
das wie in einem Bildnis verweilte
in dem Moment, da man sich wieder teilte:
erst war es immer, und dann war es nicht.

/ Von Rainer Maria Rilke. Entstehung: Sommer 1908, vor dem 15.07.1908 in Paris. Thema: Die Dialektik der Zeit: Das “momentane” Ereignis von Begegnung und Trennung erreicht einen der physikalischen Zeit enthobenen Zustand des Verweilens - analog zum Aufgehobensein eines jeden Ereignisses im Kunstwerk -, es ist für einen Augenblick “immer”, aber dann sogleich unwiderruflich nicht mehr.

L'Utopie Villageoise

2008-01-23T19:06:00.004+01:00

studio one is, without doubt, the most important record label in the history of jamaican music. it is in many ways the foundation label of reggae. studio one has led the way throughout the evolution of reggae music in jamaica. from the very first ska records though rocksteady, roots, dj, dub - studio one has produced music of the highest quality throughout its reign. even today, where the actual output of new material is minimal, studio one rhythms are as popular as they were thirty years ago as singers and producers in jamaica re-use and re-record them for new songs on an almost daily basis. synonymous with studio one is clement sir coxsone dodd, owner and producer of studio one records. clement seymour dodd began his musical career playing records in his mother's restaurant in kingston, jamaica, shortly progressing to running the famous downbeat soundsystem, and later, record shops, a recording studio, a pressing plant, and, of course the historic studio one record label. mr dodd developed a love of american rythm 'n' blues from travelling to the united states regularly, initially as a farm worker bringing back exclusive r'n'b 45's for his soundsystem, and later, bringing them back to sell in his shops. soon after this he began to encourage jamaican musicians to record their re-interpretation of american r'n'b, in a style influenced by the soundsystems and dancehalls of kingston. this sound developed into the music style now known as ska. ska can be considered as the beginning of reggae, the musical voice of jamaica. he now divides his time between new york and jamaica, where he continues to run the label and his shops.

q: were you a musician? did you play an instrument?

a: no, only percussion, just percussion.

q: what inspired you to become involved with the music industry?

a: well, actually i started a love of the music business when i attended several orchestra dances and things like that. and my mother ahd a restaurant so i bought me a morphy richards radio and an extension speaker and started playing records there. and, at the time, i was purchasing a lot of luois jordan records and billy eckstine, because that's the music we were playing.

q: were you able to buy american records in jamaica, and how did that music go down in your mother's restaurant?

a: yeah, in jamaica. because of the music we were playing we got a lot of customers!

q: could you hear the american radio stations from jamaica?

a: yeah yeah yeah, because i was tuned into nashville tennessee, you know, where randy had their programme at that time - that was the big retailers in tennessee. and then you had like, voice of america, we used to tune to listen to, like be-bop, like billy eckstine, stuff like that was playing.

q: do you prefer jazz or r'n'b?

a: well i went to the us farm-working on the fruit and vegetable section, and there i was exposed to a lot of rhythm and blues, so i actually bought me a bogan amplifier and speakers, and sent them home.

q: what part of america did you go to?

a: that was liesburg, florida, picking oranges and stuff like that, you know. so ... bit all this time, while in jamaica i'm always close to the music, playing it, so my mother had an idea what it was like. so when i sent down the amplifier and speakers she got he box built because i sent her a drawing of how i wanted it to be done. and actually the first session it was my mother operated the soundsystem. so i'd say that's the first female disc-jockey in jamaica! right?

q: did you go to dances in america?

a: yeah yeah yeah we went dancing, because jamaicans are happy people, you know. jamaicans, they love fun, you know.

q: was it because you had the sound system that you wanted to produce some recordings using local musicians?

a: what really gave me the idea that we needed to produce some local recording, at about 1960 the rhythm and blues dreid up and in came the rock and roll, but rock and roll wasn't so popular in jamaica. it never went over. so i figured, more or less, then we'd have to get in the studio and get with that heavy dance beat, you know. so that's how we really thought of doing it.

q: did you hire a studio when you did your first recordings?

a: yes, i did my first recording at federal records, run by khouri, they were on foreshore road, so we used them a lot.

q: what was your first recording session and how did it come about?

a: well my first recording session was with roland alphonso, clue j, johnny moore and a few others that i don't

remember offhand.

q: and did you ask them or did they come to you?

a: no, i went to them because this was something new, you know. even the idea of going into the studio knocked them out, because they hadn't ever thought of anything like that, you know.

q: were you asking them to record this music to play on your soundsystem, or was it to sell the records?

a: yeah, for the soundsystem. so our first session we did a little calypso, tango and tried a little rhythm and blues. and it came back, and at that time we took it from the dub to the demo - reference disc - which they actually call dub plate, but in those days it's known as reference disk, and when we played it back at the session everybody went wild! so then we realised this could be a thing, you know.

q: was your soundsystem only playing in your mother's restaurant?

a: no, this was after i had the soundsystem on the road, now, playing all over jamaica. and the people enjoyed it so much that we realised we could have a couple more sessions.

q: when you made your first recordings, did you think you were making jamaican music?

a: well yes, we aimed at, like, the crowd i'm used to. after being there a couple of years playing ... and we saw the music that they go for and we started to aim in that direction. but after a couple of releases, and we saw how it went, and we realise we're aiming for the world. get lyrics, trying to please, that's it after we see how the first set of records went over. when we actually started i didn't dream it could be a business. i thought it would be just suitable for my dances and whatever it is.

q: when or how did ska first come about?

a: well after maybe a year or two of experimenting and trying to come up with a beat of our own we came up with ska. with that pounding rhythm and that guitar riff on the off-beat. we realise it was so strong, so we set off and we decided we make that our national songs and you know it went on for a good while, let's say from about '61 to about '66, or around that time. then we did a little experimenting again and slowed it down on the rhythm and getting things on the rock side, and came up with that, what it was, ska rocksteady we came up with. and up to now i think the rocksteady period was really a very good period in the music history, rocksteady. so there's now quite a few what's ruling the dancehall are copy of the rocksteady, say '66, '68, ...

q: when did you first have your studio?

a: first i had my studio in '61.

q: was that before studio one the label?

a: yes, that's before studio one.

q: by the time you started realising releasing music on studio one, did know that you were making a business out of music?

a: well yes, because after like say about '58/'59 i was going into the studio so regular that i realise, that i figured more or less, if i had my own studio i could spend more time for perfection. so that's really where i got into having my own studio.

q: so in the 1960s how many people were involved at studio one?

a: well, say weekly - we had ten to twelve musicians employed weekly, say monday to friday working from 10 to 5.

q: and how many other employees did you have?

a: that would be say twelve perosns in the factory because we press our own records and we had another twelve persons inside working. we had three retail outlets, right, all in kingston and that would be another six persons there, and in the office we may have about fifty persons. it's just that looking back it look like that much but at the time ... it look likethat, you understand.

q: was your mother still working in her restaurant during this time?

a: well no, she was in charge of the factory. she ran the pressing plant and she also cooked for the workers and stuff like that.

q: did you only press and record studio one records?

a: no, i press a lot of outside records like bunny lee, the upsetters, i even press for duke reid at the time - a producer like duke reid he use it before he had his studio you know - and then harry j he use it a lot ... mudie ...

q: which were the first records you produced which were sold?

a: well, we release a song by the name of "my baby", jackie estick, an instrumental, because instrumental was big in those days. instrumental by the name of "shuffling jug", and one of the early records was "easy snapping" by theo beckford. and that was pressed up and sold.

q: was one of them a hit? were they played on the radio?

a: well no, but it was a hit in the dancehall, because in the early days, the radio station wouldn't play stuff like that, they only would play "doggie in the window" and stuff like that. (laughs) they used to play the foreign stuff, they wouldn't play the local stuff! as a matter of fact i'd say thank god for you europeans, because it was after the records went like pelting abroad they realised that our music arrived, and started to play it.

q: who would buy your records? djs?

a: well, no, people who attended the dance was more happy to buy the records that they were dancing to, because we were playing for two or three years before we started releasing our first music, you understand. and people now started to send the records that we released abroad, and they'd get a lot of feedback, you understand, and it took off from there, england and the united states. and actually why it take off so heavily in england is because a lot of jamaicans migrated to england, like say early '50s and '60s, so they were buying the records and they were partying out. then come the mixed marriage, so white and blacks got together and it just took off like that.

q: did people live at your studio?

a: well the only people actually living at brentford road was the wailers, marley, livingstone and peter tosh. actually i did it for marley, because when i signed marley, his guardian, she co-signed, and explained to me that where she was living, wasn't really quite suitable for him to stay, you know. so i set up a room at the back. actually when we bought the place, it was a place that someone was living in, so actually at the back there we had about three rooms, so i furnished the room and set up bob and then i realise i give him a guitar to help him pratice on and stuff like that. so peter tosh and bunny, they wouldn't go home in the evening ... they would stay there with him! (laughs). so i cleaned up two more rooms, put in beds and stuff like that you know.

q: would jackie mittoo come in and work there everyday?

a: yeah, he come in monday to friday.

q: did all the musicians, like jackie mittoo, go home each evening?

a: yeah, they go home in the evening.

q: was jackie mittoo a good musician from the beginning?

a: yes, he was very good, but i got him on to becoming a thorough musician. to help him along the way i got him to ernest ranglin, clue j, who plays bass ...

q: were they better musicians than he was?

a: yeah yeah, they were thourough musicians, jackie both learn and earn by me, but he have the rhythm. inside of him, and i be so close to the music, playing the music, i had stuff of my own, little lines and stuff like that and getting it together, but jackie really turn out to be a musical giant as time go by.

q: many jamaican musicians trained at the alpha school. did people like ernest ranglin and clue j go to the alpha school? [the alpha school, in kingston, run by roman catholic nuns, was, and still is, a school for wayward or runaway children. it is famous for its excellent music tuition which has let to it producing many of jamaica's finest musicians.]

a: no, clue j i think yes, he went to alpha.

q: was alpha the best school for a musician?

a: alpha, yes, alpha was a place for unruly kids who gave their parents problem and the parents had the option to take them there and while they were there alpha would learn them a trade, a compulsory trade, so music at alpha was the main thing.

q: so was alpha the best school?

a: yes, 'cause other than that it was just little private schools which maybe would only tutor you on the piano, but alpha it was a wide section from horns, you know, wind instruments, going right down to drums, or whatever it is.

q: who were the teachers at alpha?

a: well, you had some early teachers like lenny hibbert and a few that i can't remember right now.

q: was don drummond a teacher there or a student?

a: a student. but he himself was really a monster on the trombone, i never see anything like it, a unique sound and, you know, he got out of the instrument what others couldn't get, you know. he was really a genius, well gifted.

q: did you know eric dean's band [jamaica'a most popular big band orchestra]?

a: oh well yes, the eric dean band. well, that band, and the band master, was very helpful after like, coming out of the school, because he'd be producing different music that he needs and then actually he'd sort out the kind of tone. because coming out of the school, maybe you'd play a certain way ... but he be able to tell you, like, how to play. but eric dean was an early band that they put in a lot, they helped some of the musicians also.

q: who else taught those early musicians how to play?

a: well, the military always play a good part down there. the military always teach a lot of the guys. away from individual musicians who would help another guy, and so forth. but the main source was really alpha, and next place, tony hill. roland alphonso didn't go to alpha, he went tony hill.

q: and would you go to alpha or tony hill to find musicians?

a: well now, by the time i got in the business, and going to the different orchestra dances, i spot the people who i think i needed to play.

q: was there always a live band at the orchestra dances?

a: yes, at the different places you know like the beaumont club, where you'd have seen quite a few different bands.

q: were the skatalites formed before you met them?

a: no, the skatalites were formed in my studio.

q: were they recording for other people but under the name skatalites?

a: not recording under the name, yeah, but the full band wasn't recording under treasure isle because i knew jackie mittoo never play for duke reid you understand.

q: did the bands you recorded perform live?

a: yeah i was the first person to get the skatalites to perform live.

q: were they performing live to promote the records?

a: no, they were performing live as a means of, like, a living. then what helped them to, ... we actually brought them into the dancehall, where the soundsystem was playing and bring them on, like say, midnight and let them play for an hour or two and there's other people playing the records.

q: did people dance to them?

a: yeah man, because they were all worked up and always loved it on the disc.

q: was that exciting?

a: exciting, yeah.

q: how many records did you press each month or week?

a: like you would ask, how many records i made? i made roughly twenty songs a week.

q: recorded or released?

a: recorded, recorded right. because we sold a lot. from day to day from ten to five we might do about four ... four songs

or five songs, we have monday, tuesday, wednesday, thursday, friday - five hours would be twenty.

q: would that be recording the singing as well as the backing track?

a: no no that would be like the backing track. what we do now - in the evening at times, the artist who work, they may ask for lunch time, or they ask for early one hour, so that way they come in in the evening and put the voice on. and we have saturday and sunday that we also do the voices. musically setting up the rhythm during the week, and in the evenings and on the weekend doing the vocals, because why we did it like that, them artist would sing the song five/ten different times until we got the one that we figure is the best.

q: but the musicians didn't need that?

a: no! the musicians, we just get them inside there and within three/four takes we figure this is a good take, right? but in the early days before multi-track everybody had to be singing and playing together. and sometimes the musicians they get well miserable after four or five takes and the artist can't get it right so the producer would say, "oh it's such a nice tune it looks like we have to make an instrumental of this if you can't sing it!" (laughs) so the artist would tighten up his style and try and sing because two more tries, if he doesn't sing it, he's going to make it into instrumental! (laughs) so he focus hard on trying to make it!! so it was real fun. but those are the days when it's mono, it's monotrack, so everything had to be right while going, because if you make a mistake you have to stop and start it from the top again. so you can imagine when the musicians are starting and stopping and it's not their fault it's the artists fault, this is how they got miserable at times. so then now, when multi-track came in, now that's when we were able now to lay the backing track, spend time to get it well tight. then you come in the evening, or another time, and then nobody rushing you to sing something to get it right. sometime ten different takes before you get a good take. and you say "that's it!" and move on to something else.

q: were you in the studio most of the time?

a: yes, i spend a lot of time in the studio. but if i had to go out, before i go out i gave a sense of direction about what i needed and jackie knew me alright, so that was that.

q: jackie mittoo understood what you wanted?

a: what i wanted, yes. and sometime we rehearse in the evening you know.

q: did you rehearse in a different room to where you recorded?

a: yeah we have different room and then we set up the work for the next day, you understand.

q: so if a singer came in in the evening, would you do just one track or ... ?

a: no. what we did, we had auditions on sundays.

q: every sunday?

a: yes, every sunday.

q: so you never had a day off?

a: (laughs) no but we enjoy it, as a matter of fact we didn't want to go to sleep! because in the nights we all over town. so on sundays we get a list of people we select. so then we say "you come back monday evening, you come tuesday evening you come come whatever time". and then we would do their recording and ... we'ree getting away from the mono days, the mono days were more difficult and we weren't recording that much ... but when it came to the time i had the studio of my own, we had the different artists from monday to friday. well there were times during the week that an artist comes in from the country and you find time to listen to him and whatever it is, and sometime you so happy to hear him that you figure "boy! let him in the studio right away!" you understand? (laughs) so that was the main thing.

q: so where they always singing over a rhythm that had already been made?

a: no no no, at this time all the rhythm was made for the artists, the only thing was that you did the rhythm first and sign the tape with the name and whatever it is, and the singer came in in the evening, or saturday, or sunday. because we have some other people residing in the outskirts, they record here monday, but they wouldn't be able to come back until maybe saturday or sunday, so they come back on sunday. but the boys who reside in kingston, most of them come back in the evenings. after the recording session is over, you'd term it as "voicing session" is on now, playing back the rhythm and singing to the rhythm.

q: so when were the words written? at the vocal recording session?

a: no, the words would have to be written before we do the recording you know.

q: would the aritst bring the melody with them?

a: yes the artist ... you listen to it and say "come in on tuesday". then get the band to lay down the backing track before. yes, get the band now to, while he's singing here, now, the band is rehearsing and practising and do that now a couple of times, 'til when they figure they get it together. 'cause how we did the recording: when the artist comes in, sings his song, then, after a couple of times listening to the melody, we work up an introduction, you know? so we now arrange an introduction, plus a solo just in the middle part - usually where the artist stops singing - you have a horn or guitar play a little solo, then the artist comes in.

q: so though the singing is recorded after the backing track has been laid down, the artist and the band have met the day before?

a: yeah yeah, that's right, to fit the song. and the artist being here he can have a good memory or whatever it is, you know. so when he comes in he hears it, he knows when to come on.

q: was it mainly solo singers, or trios?

a: no it was either, whether solo or a group, you know. yeah.

q: did people specifically come on sundays to studio one records for the auditions?

a: yes, at brentford road, yeah brentford road, because after operating for a while everybody knew that on sundays they could come as a matter of fact. and sundays even before i get to the studio the road is blocked! yeah man (laughs). everybody outside.

q: how many people would come to an average sunday audition?

a: it be like two or three hundred! yeah yeah, just like that - becuase some not even artists you know, but some interested just come to hang about, hang around you know, so we open the gate and let them.

q: so what happened with all these people hanging around, how did you get any work done?

a: well that day we got through because, what it was like, we had at the front, a portion of brentford road there, and then we have a fence there (he describes it with his hands). the studio is here, so we go through the gate, the fence here, no-one could get to where we are, we take them per artist or per group, one by one, take them round to the back and them sit them down, you know.

q: what if somebody was no good?

a: yes, yes well! "come back next year!" you know (laughs). yeah that's right. we got through it fast, because we had an idea from when the guy open his mouth, we know whether he can do whatever it is. there were guys who come who haven't got a good song, but he has a good voice.

q: so could you get him a song from somebody else?

a: yes, yes, we had people working for us who just write, you know. their job by me, and they got paid, they used to write songs. you understand?

q: who were the most famous people you discovered through auditions?

a: everyone had to come through that, you know, from bob marley come right down, everybody had to go through that process.

q: so when bob marley played he was on of hundreds of people?

a: no he wasn't really one of hundreds of people, because a friend told me of these guys and i heard them through joe higgs. because joe higgs was one of my regular artists and he had always be telling me about this group that he's rehearsing.

q: becaise he was teaching them to sing wasn't he?

a: that's right. so this friend of mine, seecup patterson brought them. when they came i loved that youthful sound that they had, you know. that's a good sound, wasn't so heavy on the lyrics, they did some spirituals and stuff like that, and in the meantime, we arrange the writing for them like "it hurts to be alone". and that was one of the first.

q: when they came did they start to live with you straght away?

a: no, no, no, no. that was after i realised this was a good group and i decide to sign them up.

q: you thought they'd so much in them you wanted to keep them around?

a: yes, so when it came to signing them, then they, the guardian, came and she co-sign and she explain to me that living by her wasn't quite right and if i could help them out that way. i was just certain because i felt the vibes that this guy was a good guy, a good vocalist, so then we set up the room at the back of the studio.

q: when did lee perry become involved? what did he start doing?

a: well now, lee perry was like a handyman around me. lee perry was visiting treasure isle place before he came by me. as a matter of fact, how he came by me now is, there was an incident going between him and duke reid or whatever it is, i heard it and i tell him, "if that is the case, try somebody else, if you're not getting justice there". so he came by me and ... he was more like a handyman, when i have to do certain errands, he'd go. but we drove up together and went all around, so this is how he got onto the idea of recording, because he was at the studio with me from time to time.

q: why did you approach him in the first place?

a: well this vibe i got about him. is first between him and treasure isle, there was a song that he was saying it was his song, and duke reid gave it to somebody else, you understand.

q: but did you feel he was a creative person?

a: well yes. as far as ideas of writing songs, you know and we got together and we co-wrote together, and he didn't have any great voice but i gave him a chance and he recorded with me a lot, but he was more like handy, you know, to send out to do this, to do that. he was like a little right-hand man, you know. i don't know if you know that term (laughs).

q: was he a lot younger than you?

a: at that time he was quite young, i think perry might be about six years younger than me, but he was from the country again, the outskirts. yes.

q: and was it the same situation when you met prince buster at the start?

a: well yes, because prince buster, earlier, he came by me and his mother asked me to take care of him, you know. he was like the gate man, when we had a session he would stay at the gate.

q: he was a boxer wasn't he?

a: yes! (laughs) that's a fun part of it, he was never a great boxer, it was a gimmick because he had a bout at the stadium, and he had apid the guy to lose, so the guy be like was showing and ounch prince and prince got close to him, so prince had him and prince punch him on his back and he lie down, not even a good knock, you know. they held the purse for a few weeks 'cause they couldn't see how the guy got knocked out.

q: be he was a successful musician, wasn't he?

a: yeah man!

q: did you think he was going to be that successful?

a: yes yes yes.

q: were you rivals?

a: well yes, but we get on together, because everybody know that he was coming out of my camp, that he was my student as well. yeah yeah. that's when i told you he used to keep gate for me.

q: were you rivals with duke reid?

a: well, he was a good friend of mine, but he was more my senior.

q: was it true that he used to send people to mess up the dances?

a: yes he did that, but it wasn't all that, because it was before the gun came into play, so it would be like throwing stones at your back or stuff like that, you know.

q: sort of being naughty rather than being dangerous?

a: yeah that's right, even the rude now. we call rude naughty. instead of dangerous. i like that term yeah! (laughs) because we made the first set of rude boy songs you know. with wailers.

q: was that the beginning of rock steady?

a: yeah that's right.

q: so is that what rude boys are, people with a bid of attitude?

a: and rude and things like that ...

q: with a lot of people with a lot of attitude, how come running a business didn't end up in chaos quite often?

a: well you see, the respect is there for you.

q: so you could walk in and everyone would respect you straight away?

a: yeah, that's right you know. and well, what we can say ... in the early days you know there was a lot of love. you know the rude part came in long after, and as a matter of fact that's when i quit the soundsystem.

q: did you stop the soundsystem in the late '60s?

a: yeah the late '60s and that rude attitude and carry-on, you know. well, in my own way i was a disciplinarian, you know. i felt you got to be straightforeward and you don't do anything wrong. i'm a god-fearing person, that sort of thing. manage okay because it was before the gun thing and all that. so when i stopped the soundsystem thing, there was so much other person who wanted to work with me that they would go and play my record and promote my recording anyway.

q: so you didn't need to be there?

a: i didn't need to be there. somehow somehow, but then the freedom was there for me to really concentrate with the business side even more. because work with the soundsystem, i had to be there different hours of the night and out there with them. but now i could spend more time in the studio, get more sleep, you understand. 'cause at one time i was wandering man! didn't got to bed, just went on going to the different dances and having fun.

q: were the dances at the weekend or every day?

a: well almost everyday. because monday nights we call that matinee dance, and we have wednesday nights matinee dance. they would start about say 8 o'clock, and end about say 2 o'clock, but there come a time when nobody want to go home, so you just go with it, you understand. and there was no strict rules, you know in england things got to be closed by a certain time, you understand, but out there things just go right on, you understand. then we usually serenade on tuesdays and thursdays. when i say serenade, it's going somewhere, play free and announce the dances coming up: "saturday we'll be playing such and such, spend a couple of bucks, see the guys, buy them a beer", you know.

q: would that be for an hour or all night?

a: no, that generally go on 'til 11, 12 o'clock.

q: did you ever have a radio show?

a: yes, after a while we have a radio show to promote the records. yeah. we had the sounds of young jamaica. and winston james used to do the ... and jackie take care of that.

q: how many records were released per week?

a: well i'd say, released about 4 or 5 per week.

q: 45s?

a: yeah, 45s uh huh.

q: how many did you press initially?

a: we press like five hundred.

q: would the original pressing have a label and packaging?

a: white labels first. that's how you'd find out if you were going to press any more. well, that's right. then people come in buying it right, because by this time you got a lot of soundsystem total in the whole island, but by about mid '60s may you had soundsystems all over. this is when i realised i didn't have to go out playing the records, because the soundsystem was a means of promoting the record also.

q: if you had a big hit how many would you press?

a: actually after that first 500, you realise how big the thing is and it depend on how fast that goes, then if you go to the jukebox place they might have had 2000 or whatever it is.

q: just for jamaica's jukeboxes?

a: yeah man jamaica, yeah man. there were jukeboxes all over, and that was the thing that helped promote the record also, you understand.

q: how many copies would a good record sell?

a: in them days 4000 was a good seller.

q: which record do you remember as the fastest selling?

a: well i'd say like "cry me a river", "one love", "simmer down".

q: did you have the same currency as england?

a: at that time, yeah, because after independence it changed to the dollar, the jamaican dollar. about '69.

q: so it wasn't much money that you got after all?

a: no, no, it wasn't much money, what really usually help us was if you had a good record and you was selling it on the pre-release for say 15 shillings. yeah. so you'd make a killing. if it was that strong you could cash in on say 2000 15 shillings, and after that now it goes to seven and six shillings.

q: so was it your advantage to keep it on pre-release?

a: yeah but if it's not selling on pre-release you might see if you lower ht eprice and see if can get some action.

q: was a pre-release always more expensive?

a: yeah yeah, pre-release was always more money, because some records you go straight to release. some records didn't have that quality for pre-release.

q: was the pre-release for exclusivity?

a: not only that but you find the sound-men, the club, would buy it to play at their club, but the ordinary person would wait 'til it come on ordinary release.

q: if you sold 4000 in jamaica how many would you sell in england?

a: in england now it was all different, because i have statement from island reocrds up to now. just few records really sell up to 7000 for island records.

q: but sometimes they would have a hit, wouldn't they?

a: yeah yeah, sometimes they have a good hit, like lee harvey oswald and stuff like that, you know.

q: so how many would that sell?

a: that was always 7000, always! no well, actually, you know what was messy then, you had some of the producers here was selling this stuff for little and nothing or whatever it is. they used to bring up a grip load of music and just sell it for a round figure. well these records now, both whoever had the person who buy it over there, since they never spend no great money on the purchase of the records, they put the money into promotion and those were a lot of stuff went into the charts or what.

q: you started with ska and rocksteady and then reggae. were you always trying to do something new?

a: yes yes, we always try, because out of a lot of people who were producing in jamaica, i think we were the most steadiest in the business and i think we were the only person with a regular studio band playing weekly. because actually i still have at least 60% of my stuff unreleased you understand. but actually i'm re-doing, the music was good then, but i don't think much of the voice. so what we are doing now, is writing new songs and putting them on these rhythms and then it's done again.

q: when you recorded roots music, would it be fair to say that rastafarians wanted to record, and you were the only

person who wanted to record them?

a: yes. well, we, i am the person who brought out the rastafarian. because what happen, in the earrly days you have people like don drummond, roland alphonso, tommy mccook, used to go in the hills and rehearse with the rastafarian, which was like count ossie. because this was a means of, like, rehearsal and really ... with the drums.

q: were they rastafarians, don drummond ... ?

a: no no, they just go where the drums is because then rehearsal space wasn't so much availible where you have guitars and, you know, so you go in the hills and rehearse, you know, as with the boys, just beating the drum, exercise, ideas. so after a while now, i brought ten to like a dancehall, the rastafarians who usually play the drums. this was after we make a couple of tracks with them, like "another moses" and quite a few songs and after get them inside, at the dance, feature them at midnight, and you have like guys beat the drums and long haired rastafarians and things like that, you know.

q: were the other rpoducers scared of them?

a: well, they usually figured like they could be bad guys, but i never see that though, you know. they had their different ideas and philosophy and whatever it is, and god, and whatever it is.

q: did they live in the countryside?

a: yes, on the hillside and whatever it is. but i didn't fear them, and then it was a form of music. with me now, i was fairly friendly and had a wide experience of things, so after i brought them in everybody start using them after. because it was just drums and whatever it is, so what you could put together with it so the average person could listen to it ... because they would just be chanting and you know whatever it is, but you could really get a melody on top of that and whatever it is.

q: did you notice a change in music from the '60s to the '70s?

a: well, in the '70s now you more certain than this is a business, you understand. and lucky for me i always approach it that way from about '68, getting everybody a proper contract and whatever it is. there's a question you asked regarding "were you trying to built something like motown"? well, when i started i didn't know of motown. the record companies that i knew of were imperial in hollywood. and then you have aladdin records, you have king records, specialty records, atlantic was a very good record company, and modern records.

q: so you were collecting the records, but did you know any of the record company people?

a: well, people i knew personally was like king.

q: was that sid nathan of king records?

a: yeah, i met nathan, yeah. these are the companies now i really pattern studio one after in the early days, then ... but i've always loved motown recordings. berry did a great job.

q: have you ever met berry gordy?

a: no, i never met him. but i did release motown in jamaica. yeah, i am the person who got motown very famous in jamaica.

q: did you distribute motown or license it?

a: yes, i license. i press them down there, time i had my own pressing company. well, it did well for a while, but after a while dynamic sounds came in and took it from me, byron lee.

q: was that similar to the 1964 world trade fair? [in 1964 edward seaga organised a group of reggae musicians to go to the us world trade fair to represent jamaican music. byron lee was aming the musicians, while the skatalites, at that time extremely popular, were conspicious by their absence.]

a: yeah. he went, but it was all politics, because we were the person who created the music, who really had it going, you know, so he just came on the bandwagon. because up to now, byron lee can't play a good ska. (laughs) no, honestly. wishy washy. that hard beat isn't there, isn't there.

q: so you had the shop, studio and label to juggle?

a: but, yes, but i had a good help, you know. me and my wife, you know, we been married a long while, you know, 30 odd years.

q: did your wife work in the business as well?

a: yes, in the early days, yes. because we work awhile before we had the studio now, when we had the studio we had a retail outlet in orange street a number of years and we had another outlet on barrow street, no bedford street, and this was a busy area, was in the market area. and the bus used to park along there for the people who's going out of town, the country people who comes in to sell whatever it is so we be there pumping music to the people before they go to the bus, and they come and buy the spiritual or whatever it is. and that was a good situation, then we had another store along east green street.

q: did the people in the countryside all hve record players?

a: yes, they all have record players then, because i'm talking like in the '60s they didn't have a great amount, but there was record players around.

q: and you say it would often be spirituals that they'd be buying?

a: no, no, the reggae was going, but you know these country people was mostly religious and like that, but they bought that.

q: was reggae more for people in town?

a: yeah, yeah, the city people were more hep to that, you know. but as time goes by it spread you know. to montego bay and the big cities ...

q: you said you had three sales reps, did studio one distribute itself in jamaica?

a: well yes, one would go on the outskirts of town like montego bay and all sorts of places, at that time we'd send out the record on consignment, you did rack jobbing, we had whole racks in cities all around jamaica, so we had one person doing that. well let's say, by the time the record business get going to me the shop was like ... well at about the time we had about six record stores around the city, in kingston.

q: were you selling domestic material and imported releases?

a: imported stuff, yeah. imported stuff that's right. well, you see before then we really cut them off because in my store now i was like a champion, bringing in the rhythm and blues, knew the records, what was happening, what was going, and the latest records.

q: were you importing the music from america for your shops?

a: yeah yeah, from america. as a matter of fact i did so well that after a while i was releasing records for king label, yeah, like nina simone "my baby just cares". and quite a few others i got the rights to.

q: how did you keep up with what was going on in america at that time?

a: yeah, go back and forth and then in the early days. now, when we were buying records from america for jamaica, these were old records. there weren't current records that's happening at the moment, so most of the time we had to go into places that had those old records. going into the basement, you take off your clothes, and put on something - you going all through dust! and soemtimes the record-seller turn oh so happy! because he was getting ready to throw them out and those were the records that were moving!! it was really current rhythm and blues because rhythm and blues really went down. and then came rock'n'roll, you understand, but it never went strong in jamaica.

q: where did you go to buy records in america?

a: i went to the new york area, you know, and philly and ohio - cleveland, ohio, but mostly philly, and all about here because new york had a few record companies, you know.

q: did you always go to buy records direct from warehouses?

a: warehouses, right, the warehouses.

q: how many records did you bring back at a time?

a: numerous records. and there were some warehouses were selling records, but these records were like blind buys. but it was so cheap it was worth the effort, so i was buying like, say, five and ten thousand lot. but you see after you buy a couple of time, you were able really to get to the owner and say: "send me anything of the following artist and don't send me whatever it is", and he was happy to send it. and then what trigger it off, whatever it is, sometime, out of ten thousand records you got, you might get about four hundred that is good, but you'll be able now to say, four or five, four hundred different record, maybe two hundred each and whatever it is ... because the ten thousand maybe cost you about 2 cents at that time, you know there is only the freight to come in, and it came too by the ship, so it wasn't too much. but it was what you could discover out of this ten thousand say it was stuff like what you call 'bush, but out of the ten there was stuff you could ask for good money for a good record. because say the going price was at that time 7 and 6, if you had a good record you could get three pounds and three pounds was a lot of money! (laughs)

q: did you ever buy records from the southern states of america?

a: no. imported records from there, but sorry i wasn't able to go down there because that is where the meat of the stuff was coming from, new orleans. new orleans oh, but sure i got to randy's in galleton, he was able to get what we need from there, you know. and while we really stick to new york or chicago, sometime maybe you have a friend or a relative in the area, you understand, to take care of the business.

q: are you proud of your role in music history?

a: well, looking back at the music business i really have no regret and i can safely say this, i am responsible about 80% of the artist that have a career today comingout of the west indies, because if the person didn't even sing for me, they using my rhythm, do you understand. so all the current artists you got out there, they because of studio one. they using the studio one rhythm.

q: do you think a lot of them know that?

a: yeah, they know that, they know that. and this why it keep the label alive, because here come a artist with a big song, and it obvious it coming from this studio one rhythm way back, so even the youths who didn't have that record would like to know and buy it, you know. so it have them advantage then and there, you know.

q: do you feel complimented by people using studio one material as an influence?

a: i've been ripped off, really, but somehow god is good to me, and the sensible people that's in the business are giving us the credit so we are able to collect here and there, you know.

q: it seems like hiphop in america and james brown?

a: yeah, because james brown was made more popular when hiphop came in than the time he was signing first!

q: thanks for your time.

a: yeah, man. welcome, welcome, welcome.

La Campagne

2008-01-03T20:57:00.002+01:00

on the necessity for formal metadata for unstructured information in the world wide web / without metadata an efficient search on a semantic level will turn out to be impossible, above all if it is not only applied to a terminological level but also to spatial-temporal knowledge.

in this context, the task of information integration is devided into: syntactic, structural and semantic integration. the last class by far being the most difficult, above all with respect to contextual semantic heterogenities.

as there are:

- intelligent search
- integration and / or translation of the data found
- search and relevance for spacial terms or concepts
- search and relevance for temporal terms