THE AVANT GARDE MYSTIQUE- AN OBITUARY.

 

Ever since it was realized that it is possible to be fashionably superior and insufferable at the same time, there has been a self-proclaimed avant garde. The cutting edge, tedious little plastic butter knife that it is, has saturated the world with details of its own brilliance.

 

There is a formula for hack avant garde practices:

 

1.   Find some obscure old thing that you think you can market.

2.   Do a bit of costing, and try and contact your superficial fellow illiterates about marketing and cuts of the profits.

3.   For the initial impact of this new product of genius, discreet little gatherings of sycophantic cretins are arranged, in modest palaces with some accidental global media coverage.

  1. Charge incomprehensible prices, and a new art form, validated by the market value, is born.
  2. Go contaminate some other medium and load it up with garbage, too.

 

The 20th century made a habit of this process.

 

Every known prior idea or motif was dragged in to the “revolution”. Bauhaus, formerly a rather noticeably legitimate effort in new design, found itself a sacred cow.

 

Expressionism, which began as a particularly badly expressed idea, appropriately enough, was roped in as a “new” idea. It was never seen as what it was, an oddly lousy version of abstract art, because the art market, in its chaste and pure obsession with niches, riches and bitches, extracted it from the herd of abstract art forms. It wasn’t good enough or deep enough to qualify as surrealism, so as a product identity it had to be defined. Some of the most appalling, paint-wasting, insulting, artistic sputum in history is identified as Expressionism.

 

In Literature, the miraculous invention of the four letter word was a major breakthrough. A genre of scatological pith and sententious wind did the rest. Further revelations were to be found in the fact that a book can be made out of something that would otherwise be a single sentence, and sold at correspondingly high prices. The mythos of the verbose writer was begun when some hermit realized that a kind of social superiority was to be gained from claiming to understand the most horrendously written tripe.

 

The publishing industry, immersed in itself as usual, was now able to claim to be supporting an art.  Drab, spiritually castrated academics could now hold forth about brittle, shallow books written by misanthropes with a clear conscience, or whatever their equivalent mental process might be.

 

Subjects, “forbidden” in a sense that only a real doormat could comprehend, were now publishable. Soggy tomes about little girls and older men, endlessly dramatized, abounded. Sex was now saleable, and the standard of writing was a rough equivalent of the raging sex lives of most writers. I don’t know if you’ve ever settled in with a “sexy book” and a copy of Gray’s Anatomy…. Why people want to translate their sex lives into Latin, I do not know.

 

The “revolution” in topics continued, well-informed vegetables around the world sharing esoterica dredged from history. Another breakthrough; people not taught real history can be shocked by it, and buy lots of books on the subject. (My only comment on history as literature so far is that if you want a good horror story, read history. Actually, what else needs saying?)

 

The avant garde component in all this pointless pigswill was that many were able to claim the distinction of “discovery”. Avant garde was now a claim to marketing ability, not an artistic reputation. Perversely, those known to be recycling the fool-fodder of previous centuries were also considered “avant garde” based on their lack of talent.

 

A case in point: “Free Love”. It was never a 20th century invention. It was invented in the 19th century, at the very earliest, and simply marketed to a receptive audience, which also mystically had the ability to buy contraceptives on a large scale.

 

“The occult”, an obsession of many previous generations, was equally new to the pitifully educated market, and has blossomed into a thriving series of macros somewhere. In some cases people don’t even know what they’re believing in, but because it’s been described as “occult”, it must be exciting. Sales by innuendo.

 

The real avant garde in any generation is rarely noticed. Breakthroughs are made in garages, on laptops, on scribbled notes, or in moments when people can think properly. Not in press releases, media events, or attacks of artistic xenophobia designed to lock in reputations and marketability.

 

The methodology of media has lost track of real advances in media. This is a fairly ad hoc article, and I don’t want to belabor an obvious point:

 

Those who seek anything are rarely looking for anything else. A lot of avant garde work is by definition outside the references of media buying and media research. It’s practically impossible to market or research something if you don’t even know it exists. You might accidentally bump into a new thing, but most of the time you’re on a single track.

 

The film industry is an example. What is bought is bought on financial risk values, not artistic values. (Well, now I can say I’ve written something stunningly obvious.)  A particular genre sells, so you’re more likely to buy it or sell it.

 

Irritatingly easy as it would be to make some puritanical statement regarding the “future of human art and the obligation to push the boundaries further out”, (presumably in the interests of our children, and our children’s children…) there’s an inherent gap between media and new product. Films have become a reflection of technology, no longer a showcase for technology and ideas, as they were.

 

Very few really new concepts occur in the medium, because it’s geared to its production methods and costs. What eventually comes out is pretty much proven content. Many of the animated films now are really using old PC game quality animations, or their descendants. Some are using the digital version of single frame movements, for example where only the mouth of a character is moving against a static background. Action films now happen mainly in computers.

 

Technically, the software is impressive, but is it really much more than the current upgrade? I really don’t want to belittle some of the actual achievements, which are substantial, but are these movies? I could also make a few poignant comments about the fantastic costing for some of these massive budgets, paying for processor time and tweaking codes, rather than quality… I have a feeling someone’s probably thought of that, though.

 

The music industry, that monument to hypocrisy, has maintained its sterling record of non-innovation. There are people using wave forms and synthesizer patches which are so old, and so very un-musical, as well as unreliable, that it’s a joke. The advent of multitrack has provided yet another market How To manual for hacks. Innovation? Avant garde? These guys wouldn’t know a new idea if it bit them. The advanced music of the early 21st century, so far, is a pure rehash of some antiquated theories from the 1940s and 1950s.

 

The technological advances have become jingles, not much more than ways of selling instruments to people that don’t know much about instruments. “Sales features”, not musical assets. Every single musical instrument and piece of electronic equipment ever built has potentials and possibilities, and all you get are One Size Fits All recordings by the bucket load, because nobody has ever experimented beyond the most cursory level. Nor, incidentally, has anyone ever been told that they should, or why they should. “This is how you play/record/produce music.” So that’s all they do.

 

The global media is presently a graveyard of established, predictable, forgettable and soon-to-be-forgotten methods. The avant garde mystique is now a sales pitch. It started as real description of those truly in advance of everyone else. Then it became a form of pretension, a market image. Something to impress the other six year olds with, art like new toys.

 

Now, it’s whatever anyone claims it to be. What appears at first horrified, unwilling, blink to be a badly arranged attack of some terrible disease turns out to be the Next Big Thing, the Newest Of The New.

 

It’s the Ultimate Product of festering genius, not the scratchings of some less than eloquent dead cockroach. It is an artistic triumph beside which the Sistine Chapel is a garage rest room, not the worthless whimpering of a mind incapable of getting paint on any surface. Wild eyed accountants sat up in filthy palaces for weeks figuring out how to sell it.

 

What appears to be a new use for condemned urinals is your new, endearingly expensive mansion, derived from mystic excursions into non-copyright designs. There’s a reason for garbage to be non-copyright, and not a pleasant one. Whoever managed to get this hideous abortion onto a set of blueprints, however, you will find is considered a true artist. Well, that’s about half right, if you leave out the obvious preceding word.

 

Three hours of chronic discontinuity is the new film breakthrough. The utter loss of any story line may be attributable to sheer dumb luck, but as art, it’s a revelation for all those other people who can’t keep track of single sentences. The subtle use of people’s anatomy as decoys to draw people away from any suspicion of the absence of a workable screenplay is another novelty. Whoever came up with that is definitely a market leader, if not a known saint.

 

The book about word associations, freely lifted from any old, usually discredited, psychological text book, is literature’s answer to the scandalous charge of mediocrity rampant. A bit of subtext sniveling about the neglect of literary standards will convince any professional idiot that it’s genuine. Use of the word “dog” as a term for association also fits the Guidelines For Better Communication, embracing wholeheartedly as it does the ability to communicate with young readers and the need to fill quite a lot of space.

 

The more turgid and lifeless, the better. It adds some credibility to those who have read a book saturated with unnecessary, obsolete information. If written in that patronizing prose which includes infinite detail on one point and almost none on any related points, artistic credentials are secure. That’s what text books are supposed to contain, isn’t it?  So any other form of literature, written pedantically enough, must be good.

 

People are impressed by quantity, and generally have very little exposure to quality. There it is, 600 pages of irrelevance, and the shriveled ruin of a reader is able to quote passages from it like a book of nursery rhymes, so making the book a masterpiece and the reader an educated, informed person. In criminal law, the deprivation of liberty alone would qualify as grounds for prosecution, but not in modern literature. The mind, shackled to some verminous, odious corpse of verbosity, has no court of appeal.

 

In fact, this is exactly the kind of person victimized by the avant garde mystique. In no position to argue with the sources, and drastically under-educated by exposure to them, if not already illiterate. The film buff, knowledgeable enough about many aspects, is brutally misled by the pure fluff of production, and usually deprived of comparisons with the ancestral film techniques. The music lover, unless inoculated by jazz or classical music, is floundering in the “values” of current music.

 

(The arts can always vaccinate their fans against the garbage, but few people know that. They just don’t get enough exposure to the good stuff.)

 

Most of this atrocity is based on the theory that it’s “new”. In marketing terms that also means nobody has anything against it, yet, which is a valuable selling point. Those promoting something new get a bit of leeway from industry, because all industries need new product, all the time. Media, however, suffers from too much new product, ironically enough, since it can’t handle its daily input of new material. Existing outlets just cannot absorb the deluge of creative work pouring in to all facets of the various media distributors.

 

In fairness, quality is a major issue, but they’re swamped, and would have no hope of even beginning to look for quality product, the way they take in material. Some have even stopped looking at new work. So if you’re wondering why the 80s are so popular these days, that’s probably when the scripts and books were written.

 

The promoters of the “new” material don’t have that problem. They’re on an inside track, and they block anything else from running. The danger is that these pseudo-imaginative scum are poisoning both the producers and the industry.

 

I frankly do not believe any of the people inflicting themselves and their ludicrous products on global media content are capable of selling sex in a jail. They don’t have the education, the depth of experience, or the talent. They also now have less scope than their audience. What seems new to the marketers seems new to them based on their understanding of the medium. The good news is that is what will eventually kill them. They can’t keep up. YouTube, myspace and others have already proved that.

 

The average nine year old, without trying too hard, will by about age 12, be an expert in finding thousands of media products without the assistance of market mythology. A kid like that will want to know since when anyone can tell them what they want to watch, read, or hear. That generation doesn’t have to listen to hype, and it won’t, if it can help it, and nobody can make them. Someone claiming to be “avant garde” to the coming generations will have billions of people able to start forming  a judgment of that statement in .024 seconds.

 

We may consider ourselves very fortunate indeed to even be able to think of a time when useless, plagiaristic, irrelevant people in the arts and media can be classified accordingly by a search engine. A life based on film credits might not be such a good idea if what comes out is a list of irredeemable rubbish as a career.

 

To me, the only real avant garde are the real innovators, those who actually do the basic experimental work needed to develop an art or a science. For innovators, the “own goal” factor is the real problem. The avant garde needs to be able to connect efficiently with its market, to be viable, and allow further innovation. At best, the current situation is haphazard, and few if any innovations ever get into the public eye.

 

What normally happens is that someone discovers something, it is ignored, then someone else picks it up, and a lineage of time consuming, wasteful, and ultimately counterproductive evasions of genuinely new product, occurs. Who does it help? Not the industries, definitely.  Not the advertisers, their marketers, or the employment demographics.

 

For example: Laser recording was nearly 30 years old before it was picked up as consumer technology. The disk drive is already obsolete, because someone’s discovered you can use the same solid state technology for computers as you do for digital cameras. Convection cooking is far more energy efficient than conventional, or microwave, and it’s 50 years old. You can boil water instantaneously.

 

Innovation is a very rocky road for innovators. What credit they get, they deserve. How about we stop enshrining those useless hacks, and start paying attention to the people who actually produce?