Sarah Nicole Prickett on behalf of ADULT for Dazed, The United Nations of Erotics, July 2014.
Me, by Fette Sans, October 2012, Downtown Los Angeles, backseat of a convertible belonging to J., the music most likely Wild Nothing, the sun bright with hints of early Los Angeles Autumn, which is Summer in many other places.
Frank Hauschildt and Fette Sans, Du bist Agatha, ich bin Ulrich, 2014, found objects, sound, perfume, dimensions variable. Installation shots (night and morning after) at ainsA, Berlin.
I’ve pulled down my lace and the chintz.
Where are we?
In a bedroom, for example.
Could it be some other place?
Yes. It is up to the viewer to choose.
Don’t we ever know what time it is?
No, it is either nighttime or daytime.
What’s the weather like?
It’s a cold summer.
Is there anything sentimental about it?
Are there any bit players?
They have been eliminated. The word ‘room’ is said, and that ought to be enough to represent a bedroom.
Is it a fictitious story?
Yes, very much so.
Is it mentioned that they are siblings?
Are there any traces of them?
They are barely there. The traces are within the room. Meaning is carried when entering the room. It depends on the viewer to foresee.
The destruction of memory.
The destruction of judgment.
What about the music?
It is also a broken memory, playing on repeat.
As she talked she began to disappear. He watched her go; it was amazing. Gloria in her measured way, talked herself out of existence word by word. It was rationality at the service of - well, he thought, at the service of non-being. Her mind had become one great, expert eraser.
Philip K. Dick, from Valis, 1981.
Music video for Koudlam, Negative Creep, directed by Jamie Harley, 2014. Via.
See also, Koudlam x Cyprien Gaillard, Paris, 2007.
Left, Magali Reus, Lukes (Amazon Cur), 2014, folded and riveted powder coated steel, stitched fleece blanket, wadding, protective plastic mesh, food packaging, powder coated steel. Installation view from the group exhibition Pool at Kestnergesellschaft, Hanover. Via. Right, photograph by Kent Andreasen, A Shot From A New Set Of Images, 2014. Via. Via.
(…) today, the idea that men are more interested in sex than women is so pervasive that it seems almost unremarkable. Whether it’s because of hormone levels or “human nature,” men just need to have sex, masturbate, and look at porn in a way that simply isn’t necessary for women, according to popular assumptions (and if a women does find it so necessary, there’s probably something wrong with her). Women must be convinced, persuaded, even forced into “giving it up,” because the prospect of sex just isn’t that appealing on its own, say popular stereotypes. Sex for women is usually a somewhat distasteful but necessary act that must be performed to win approval, financial support, or to maintain a stable relationship. And since women are not slaves to their desires like men, they are responsible for ensuring that they aren’t “taken advantage of.”
(…) Early twentieth-century physician and psychologist Havelock Ellis may have been the first to document the ideological change that had recently taken place. In his 1903 work Studies in the Psychology of Sex, he cites a laundry list of ancient and modern historical sources ranging from Europe to Greece, the Middle East to China, all of nearly the same mind about women’s greater sexual desire. In the 1600s, for instance, Francisco Plazzonus deduced that childbirth would hardly be worthwhile for women if the pleasure they derived from sex was not far greater than that of men’s. Montaigne, Ellis notes, considered women to be “incomparably more apt and more ardent in love than men are, and that in this matter they always know far more than men can teach them, for ‘it is a discipline that is born in their veins.’” The idea of women’s passionlessness had not yet fully taken hold in Ellis’ own time, either. Ellis’ contemporary, the Austrian gynecologist Enoch Heinrich Kisch, went so far as to state that “The sexual impulse is so powerful in women that at certain periods of life its primitive force dominates her whole nature.”
Alyssa Goldstein, When Women Wanted Sex Much More Than Men - And how the stereotype flipped, for AlterNet, March 2013.
Screen captures from the music video for The Knife, Pass This On, directed by Johan Renck, 2003. Watch.
Does he know what I do and
you’ll pass this on, won’t you and?
If I asked him once what would he say,
is he willing, can he play?
Last night I watched young men play hockey. Accidentally, I stumbled upon this rink where they were training. I sat down to grab more of the warm air filled with their perspiration, shivering when the puck was hitting the distressed plexiglass, over and over. And now again I hear them.
Salem, Better Off Alone, 2011. Unofficial music video by Matt Burgess. Via.
Left, John Cage, from Lecture on Nothing, 1959. Via. Read it in its entirety. Right, Lutz Bacher, from the series Sex with Strangers, 1986, 9 B&W photographs, framed, 72 x 40 inches each. From the exhibition at Galerie Bucholz, Köln, April 2014. Via.
In Sterling Ruby’s 2009 video installation, “The Masturbators,” male porn stars jack off alone. Recently, while interviewing him for an unrelated magazine piece, I asked Ruby what it was like to work with the men. He told me that when the porn stars came in, they were mostly full of bluster, like—you want me to what? That’s it? Ruby nodded. Then watched as, one by one, the professionals couldn’t finish the job. Some of them broke down, almost crying. One screamed repeatedly to turn off the camera. Another got so upset he threatened to break down the door between him and the smaller man, the artist, and beat him up.
Ruby said a smart thing: that it was embarrassing to be a man, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. He also said he thought the US porn industry, a phrase I can’t tell if he meant synecdochically, was cruel for telling men to come on command. I agreed, but I also thought the men broke down in their small white rooms, one at a time in front of one camera, because they’d never before had to be the lone objects of a gaze. And, lacking the feminized receptacle without which the dick can’t exist, they began to feel, for perhaps the first time in a while, the embarrassment of just being human.
See also, The Masturbators.
Fase, Four Movements to the music of Steve Reich, Choreography for two dancers by Anne Teresa De Keersmaeker, 1982. Film directed by Thierry De Mey, 2002.
The four parts of the performance were filmed at four different locations: Piano Phase in the Rosas Performance Space in Vorst, Come Out in the new Coca-Cola building in Anderlecht, Violin Phase in Tervuren forest and Clapping in the Felix Pakhuis in Antwerp.
Top, Carina Zurino, Curtain Falls IX, 2013, Blue Pigment Print, Size 80 x 84. Installation view from the group exhibition Touching Light, on view at Peter Lav Gallery until August 16th. Via. Bottom, Scene from Macbeth, 1988, with choreography by Johann Kresnik and scenography by Gottfried Helnwein, Volksbühne Berlin, 1995. Via.
Being born a woman is an awful tragedy. Yes, my consuming desire to mingle with road crews, sailors and soldiers, bar room regulars—to be a part of a scene, anonymous, listening, recording—all is spoiled by the fact that I am a girl, a female always in danger of assault and battery. My consuming interest in men and their lives is often misconstrued as a desire to seduce them, or as an invitation to intimacy. Yet, God, I want to talk to everybody I can as deeply as I can. I want to be able to sleep in an open field, to travel west, to walk freely at night.
Sylvia Plath, from The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath, 1982-2000. Via.
Charles Bukowski, from a letter to Black Sparrow Press publisher John Martin, August 12, 1986. Via.