Nehemiah 2:18b – Then they said, "Let us arise and build.” (NASB )
Let It Be Known Then
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Transcript of Let It Be Known Then
DB Fishman
“Life’s a lot of fun. You have to remember that
and you have to keep having fun.”
- Warren Zevon
With thanks to Dan Holloway. Nikul Patel and Megan Graieg
for the necessary kicks.
All words and photography by DB Fishman.
Let It Be Known Then
Buy The Ticket
Do you follow?
vectors
Base note
This is about the Ircam Newsletter,
so you are probably concerned.
hope
Installation
The Spanish Butcher
Cavalcade
Pull of Vacuum
Serene Gas
transmission
Digging Suburbanite
The Passion of the Palm Trees
Redbone
On the Victory granted Feminism
You’ll Never Live As Long As A Legend
Staring Into Sun
boundary
Installation Art II
Children’s Games
homeland
Not Happening
Freeway
The Brighton Street Races
Driving Home for Xmas
Installation Art 3
Everything is blue and green
These continuous things
Take The Ride
monolith
Buy the Ticket
The meaning of rock & roll
is transcendence
The meaning of life
is survival
.
2013
Do you follow?
The same questions will be asked
And you will be forced
to confront yourself
And you will be forced
to triangulate
Where you stand
On everything
from racist politics
To haircuts.
And are they really different?
2013
Taken verbatim from ‘I’ve been rich and I’ve been poor. Rich is better’, Guardian interview with
David Lee Roth of Van Halen, 2/2/12.
Base note
I want to take the static Of the background radiation Exhalation of the universe Caught on untuned TVs and Loop that shit to a Multilayered blizzard of the Hiss that fills the air Inside my lungs, swims Over my vision, vibrates Inside my wrists, I want To amp it up to Shaking eardrums Making awareness Unavoidable of this Omnipresent screaming.
2013
This is about the Ircam Newsletter, so you are probably concerned.
I wonder what’s happening in IRCAM right now
Pierre Boulez’s avant garde institute
I wonder what tinkering in those underground rooms
What innovation, what developments, what thoughts
This modernist hive for concepts and for software
Creation – Transmission – Research
Opened its interdisciplinary doors the year punk broke
Electroacoustic technology of art
Notes scattered into binary of algorithms
Cello notes extended to infinity
Voices, disembodied, calling out from outside nature
Sonorous, lonely tones haunting the hallways
Sounds caught from the air, decontextualized, reordered
Management of the movement of sound in space
Buskers on the hot paving stones outside
Perhaps an ambient hum of drives processing
Discord! Cacophony! Audio processed to be
Uncanny from unrecognisable origins
Waves of synthesised, designed sounds
Painting so far beyond past canvas
I wonder what’s going on in IRCAM right now
Under the cloak of Parisian night
2013
Installation
I mean it’s crap,
Obviously. The
Bovine, stumbling
Figure in ill-fitting
Dinnerwear clambering
Over the lawns of
A country house
Out of breath
Blown up
To a panting
Superhuman
The details, his
Face erased by
Advancing through
The years, the
Bright screen
Fills the white
Room with motion
Slowed to tidal grey
Looped & hazed
In static but
Stood staring,
Face lit in the
Rolling projection,
He saw the figure,
His father, brought back
In his work: Infinite
Purgatory.
2012
The Spanish Butcher
These cut-out hearts sit Small, red and pudgily self-contained Next to the folded white Blanket rolls of tripe, beneath Buffed glass, each attached On either side to a Pale, fanned lung Ready to fly them to Heaven. 2012
Cavalcade
The rusted palette fork Dragged across the uneven Paving stones Pops and rumbles like Carnival drums’ sound Echoing off the walls
2013
Pull of Vacuum
The way the fibres
of clean, white linen
Call out to drink in
fresh red blood
2012
Serene Gas
Insert a shunt into my bloodstream For dazzled hopes to paddle in I want to recline right across this sky And rest these tired bones over drifting clouds Given enough time everything is temporary.
2013
Digging Suburbanite
That heavy silence inherently stencilled ‘residential’ The fences, gardens, trellises, ramshackle but presentable An evident safe haven set back from the traffic From the centre’s crowds and revelry a place where nothing happens In each contained unit, furtive rooms lurk behind uncurtained windows lit from some light deeper inside or the television’s lapping blue; neighbours parties sounding through the walls The gathered ornaments less showy than a record, artefacts left modestly in sill corners A quiet rests over the streets capturing, containing broads strips of becalmed grey sky, bisected by passing flight paths Where you can stand in the road, tracing the cracks worn in the tarmac, watch the slumping course of hedgerows, these understated borders And you can hear nothing but
slight birdsong on the indifferent breeze and the steady warm pulse of trains passing at a distance lulling the neighbourhood to sleep; Comfort the anaesthesia we inhale as relaxing, we harden to the faster currents, to anything not routine and familiar to these idyllic flat-pack pop-up eddies that run a thread the length of the country – and could be anywhere across it - this launchpad and steady- state; Home. 2013
The Passion of the Palm Trees
We walk in corridors of privilege As the red sun burns the blue sky Dipped in imposed luxury The ledger is not clean. 2013
Redbone
Space travel makes the heart weaker Muscle wastes with no gravity to pulse against So kiss ferociously Sex positive Love like this is Your last day on this planet- I want to take to somewhere And do something, because This is the rushing progress Of neon lifeblood against The harvesting explosions of blades.
2013
On the Victory granted Feminism
Picture the scenario: You have been put in prison, Just on the cusp of adulthood. There were warnings, yes, But never any real reason Or justification given For all those years hemmed in By instruction, firmly Confined by restrictions, until Voices called for change and Eventually came the rioting And at the same time as The authorities appeared to Heed the demands, You had a child… Now watching her run Up and down the Redecorated corridors Allowed to dress how she likes (within reason) To eat what she likes (within reason) To be who she likes (within reason) You wonder, in noticing That she doesn’t, What this building is now. 2012
You’ll Never Live As Long As A Legend
He has a reputation to maintain The big man must be seen to give it large Even with his youthful exuberance long past The audience needs its talisman So it’s a dab of momentum on the fingertips A little kickstart - though spark plugs are burning - For one more surging leap of faith, as the sallow skin turns slack And the heart muscle’s ripping to shredded beef.
2013
Staring Into Sun
The post-sun-warmed blue Film across my vision The click inside my Injured knee Beneath the ceaseless Surplus rushing past, a Silence is forming At the centre The streak of blood in my spit Fingertips can count my every bone A blindspot of null space with each blink An emptied blister in a strip of pills When you remove Work and sleep Life is just mere intervals Between brushing your teeth
2013
Installation Art II
‘yarn bombed’ trees, lampposts, bikes bound in bright twine a softening of the built environment the palimpsest of graffiti strung walls stripping streaks of cleaning bleach just one more layer the past of sun-worn, rain-torn poster remains club nights, campaigns, celebrations clinging against the wind the opening hours of the shopping arcade by the shutters, bolted to the wall in stainless steel initials gouged deep in long-set concrete patches entrenched testaments to opportunity cracks running through rain-soaked concrete blocks great murals of interminable infinity in the concrete underpass’s shadows filled with sprouting weeds in dripping black spray paint the wall reads ‘YOU ARE ABOUT TO GET KILLED’ this patina we create of damage & scraped additions posterity through interference a permanent record, testimony; when we are gone They can judge us by our leavings
2013
Children’s Games
The children run around outside Chasing each other down, screaming ‘I’m not even playing!’ one yells ‘I shot myself in the head!’ ‘That doesn’t count’ another shouts back ‘I don’t care!’ he says. 2013
Not Happening
Just after we moved south ‘Round the corner from our drab flat Was a bridge underneath which ran the railway At dusk the glowing signal light By a bend in the track would Offset the evening sky and I was going to take a picture And call it ‘Take a look up the railtrack…’ After the line in that Proclaimers song But that view from the bridge Was facing further on down the line And that pretty much said it all. 2012
Freeway
One after another ad infinitum The broad metal boxes flow Over a hump in the road In equal & endless pace, as if On a conveyor chain, each with A spot of darkness, stationary, Anonymous and malignant In the driver’s seat Like a clot. 2013
The Brighton Street Races
Here on this island’s lowest coast as pier lights cycle over still seawaters An Englishman’s home used to be his castle but prices have increased a premium on real estate so now his kingdom comes on four wheels Larger than life deep colour polished candy sheen The extreme beasts of car dealers sitting open thumping, flashing for poorly hidden awe in this Antisocial clearly societal configuration of a social gathering Spectators line the promenade, the street, the track figures clustered by their cars; the air thickens with the billowing clouds of incinerated rubber, cars turned starships in the smoke etching the tarmac with their deep, black strokes Parading dressed in hazard lights for handbrake turns, drifting, quarter mile sprints Back & forth on the waterfront, buzzing civilians caught in the firing chamber feel briefly the pressure of pending acceleration as
Better than a fairground the scene becomes a pantomime; the heroes making daring turns, villains fishtailing, so the audience step back to applause & collective intakes of breath, laughing at the fleeting appearance of a police van This is showmanship, where driving isn’t dangerous – just contextual, head-on face-offs paused with self-imposed traffic direction; it’s irrelevant how close a crash seems when these close balletic passes never impact The Mitsubishi engine roars trigger more sensitive alarms, the soundtrack bumping clear along the seafront head-nodding syzurp rap chopped & screwed from another southern coast And beneath the strafe of backfire and screech of sustained wheelspin and past the last line of prom lights before pure, empty nothing Music & horns ring out across the dunes bass booming like a heartbeat over the waves 2013
Driving Home for Xmas
The Christmas pilgrimage of the young professionals Grey swathes of rain lashing down the windows Of the soporific morning motorway services Beneath Jeremy Kyle’s admonishing gaze Hung from the ceiling, mute, in the states; Four pound for a toasted cheese sandwich.
2012
Installation Art 3
Row after row of round red Balloons inflating, from small to Full, swollen size, steadily rising To their peaks, before Slowly shrivelling and Sinking back down To the ground And on the wall behind In big golden glitter letters is Written the summation: THAT’S LIFE!
2013
These continuous things
I wanted to see the throes
of the kids there
just taking over.
I wanted to go in and
out of rooms and over
the balconies and swimming pools
these continuous things
so, yeah
there was like a mile of
people at some points.
It was hard
it was chaos
it was cool
it was very much like you
would imagine it to be.
2013
Taken verbatim from ‘Spring Breakers, a riotous take on modern America’,
Guardian interview with director Harmony Korine, 30/3/2013.
Take the Ride
The meaning of life is that
it ends
The meaning of rock & roll
is transcendence
2013