Multiplication. Multiplicity. Multiplex. Multiplying. Multipliable. Multi as an over desirable voice of present and an echo of future. Multi as an overwhelming obsession of now. Multi as unreachable myth of nothingness. Multi as a total indifference of thoughts. Multi as a postmodern welfare concept.
Pointlessness. In response to deconstructed reality, mass and massive productivity obtrude itself endlessly. On that level its self-destruction is perceived as an alternative postmodern creativity that fearlessly protrude its irresistible skilled tongue. It would be called The Rolling Stone’s style with Leviathan’s appetite with no neuralgic spots. Satiation in all dimensions. Consuming, therefore I am.
“Even the “creative” act replicates itself to become nothing more than the sign of its own operation… The painter paints the fact that he or she paints. In that way, at least the idea of art is saved”. (J. Baudrillard, The Conspiracy of Art, 2005). According to Marshall McLuhan, we have now become aware of the possibility of arranging the entire human environment as a work of art.
But what’s the meaning of the art, then? What does it represent? Factories. “Mass creativity”. Or, in that case, the art stays on the level of thought, in Plato’s world of ideas.
A word create is swallowed by word production. A word creativity is swallowed by word progress. No regress. And no regret. In a new constellation of words, the most productive ones would be the ones that used to be the most creative.
Here are the most popular factories (from diverse fields) of its epoch that have unduly slipped into oblivion:
- Warhol’s silver Factory – it functioned like a real manufacture amplified with amphetamine, superstars, horses, hay, and foil light all around with groundbreaking parties. Decadence, in the foil was a reflection of a big American enterprise seen as Disneyland. Maybe just the atmosphere itself was creative. It was an art-to-be-sold. Warhol claimed sex to be too abstract, anyway.
- Eccentric candy maker Willy Wonka had its own empire of chocolate. Much bigger and much much more delicious than a witch in Hansel and Gretel had. Jelly bean stalks, chocolate river, bushes that sprout lollipops, mushrooms that spurt whipped cream, pumpkins filled with sugar cubes instead of seeds. Yummy. Chocolate Factory became Charlie’s one day. Unfortunately, Charlie didn’t surf as Wonka thought he should.
- Factory records, an independent record label founded in ’78th in Manchester by Tony Wilson & Co, gathered crème de la crème of British alternative bands with Joy Division on the forefront, and New Order later, then: A Certain Radio, The Durutti Column, Happy Mondays, and James and Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. Exaltation of the whole culminated with converting Victorian textile factory into the nightclub as a very first and important place for that new Manchester wave amalgamated with post punk guitar sounds.
Filed under: Uncategorized
