Tuesday, January 31, 2006

Sunday, January 22, 2006

L'art pour l'art

L'art pour l'art
Twilight of the Idols by Friedrich Nietzsche [1895]

The fight against purpose in art is always a fight against the moralizing tendency in art, against its subordination to morality. L'art pour l'art means, "The devil take morality!" But even this hostility still betrays the overpowering force of the prejudice. When the purpose of moral preaching and of improving man has been excluded from art, it still does not follow by any means that art is altogether purposeless, aimless, senseless--in short, l'art pour l'art, a worm chewing its own tail. "Rather no purpose at all than a moral purpose!"--that is the talk of mere passion. A psychologist, on the other hand, asks: what does all art do? does it not praise? glorify? choose? prefer?
With all this it strengthens or weakens certain valuations. Is this merely a "moreover"? an accident? something in which the artist's instinct had no share? Or is it not the very presupposition of the artist's ability? Does his basic instinct aim at art, or rather at the sense of art, at life? at a desirability of life? Art is the great stimulus to life: how could one understand it as purposeless, as aimless, as l'art pour l'art?

One question remains: art also makes apparent much that is ugly, hard, and questionable in life; does it not thereby spoil life for us? And indeed there have been philosophers who attributed this sense to it: "liberation from the will" was what Schopenhauer taught as the overall end of art; and with admiration he found the great utility of tragedy in its "evoking resignation." But this, as I have already suggested, is the pessimist's perspective and "evil eye." We must appeal to the artists themselves.
What does the tragic artist communicate of himself? Is it not precisely the state without fear in the face of the fearful and questionable that he is showing? This state itself is a great desideratum, whoever knows it, honors it with the greatest honors. He communicates it--must communicate it, provided he is an artist, a genius of communication.
Courage and freedom of feeling before a powerful enemy, before a sublime calamity, before a problem that arouses dread--this triumphant state is what the tragic artist chooses, what he glorifies. Before tragedy, what is warlike in our soul celebrates its Saturnalia; whoever is used to suffering, whoever seeks out suffering, the heroic man praises his own being through tragedy--to him alone the tragedian presents this drink of sweetest cruelty.

Sunday, January 08, 2006

Saturday, January 07, 2006

Can feel the brain cells dying...

Having a cup of morning tea and surfing the internet brought me to various msn myspace blogs. All I have to say is that if Anne or Alice ever put one of these pages up, they are gonna get their little rumps paddled.

Some of these kids pages are so chock full of crap that it is almost impossible to tear your eyes away from the visual, audio and verbal diarrhea.
"*groans* *pop* daaamn that was good, i jsut took you're cherry *sparks up a cigarette*" from a young man in the military to a young woman.
"+I'm Indigo+
+I'm a "Mommie" of 4... Azrielle, Axel, Chill & Frisky+
+I'm not what your expecting, so don't think I am+
+Don't label me, I'm not a soup can+
+I state my opinion, don't like it, oh well+
+I'm old enough to know better but young enough not to care+
+I go to shows, I go to raves... Does that bug you?+
+Just like your average teenager, I smoke and I do drugs... But I DON'T drink is that a plus?+
+Yes, I can dress up but then I can dress down+
+I'm me... Please bring yourself to my table and don't try to be someone else, I'll turn you away+
+I'm one of the nicest people you'll meet, but also the biggest bitch+
+Don't bring drama near me... I hate it and don't need it so fuck off+"

This line is my favorite~
"Who I'd like to meet:
+Anyone who can carry on a conversation for more then 2 minutes+"

Between information such as that from teens with angst, to artists blogs where the folks couldnt spell their way out of a paper bag much less paint. What slays me is the tendency to use 'self-taught' and 'outsider' artist as a marketing tool, a phenomenon that has exploded since people starting selling the results of their artistic machinations on Ebay. I won't carry on with this line of thought, as it will make me sound like even more of a bitch than I already am.