4 Matching Annotations
  1. Feb 2022
    1. I knew that pop cannot function as a reproduction of remembered realities, but only as an arrangement of simple emblems of greater things, symbols that remind the listener to feel something that is too enormous for mimicry, too unreproducible to ever be rendered mimetically in art.

      I'm still a little unsure of my role as "reader" here (a little more explanation is welcome, but with that said, this section as a start for things is helpful for the rest of the book, in that there is of course a consistent reminder about form and intent. Where it succeeds, where it falters. But you describe it perfectly here. Its simplicity is, I feel, what you are trying to promote. And yet in some of the other essays, the same illustration of intent and form is not as simply explained, and I wonder if it has something to do with the subject matter. For instance, in this essay and in the Red76 essay, you seem to be enlivened by the subject matter and able to describe it in close relation to its own form. Whereas in, for instance, the essay that refers to Agnes Martin, that explanation of form and intent is more belabored. While I really enjoy that essay, I'm wondering, is there a way to more neatly intertwined the these differences in tone? Not to have them sound more like one another, but more so, how can the dissonance work in the readers favor as opposed to - possibly - forcing them to listen / read the work as, tonally in opposition.

    2. Suddenly I was in Puebla, Mexico without having finished this review. Puebla is thick with radios and dogs, both very loud, plus more cars moving faster on fewer working parts, belching a powerful gray exhaust whose diesel tang put me in mind of Rome and London.

      I'm always appreciative of your commitment to context. How you, the places you inhabit and traverse, and the people you meet along the way, play an essential role (at least form me) in organizing complex ideas.

  2. Jan 2022
  3. Feb 2021
    1. It used to be, you could walk down the streets of a city and always know what time it wa

      In what ways do we experience time in the neighborhood together? Could the "socializing of time" act as a mechanism for connectivity, solidarity? One way I see this is through the group of Latinx men, women, and children who play soccer most nights during the summer in the field on the NW corner of Powderhorn Park. On warms days I can clock the order of my days with their activities in parallel to mine. Knowing how they will be playing together, the children running around, is a marker on a social clock of the neighborhood and, however abstract, provides a sense of time to the social landscape we share.