Mark Splatter

“The satisfaction which no longer comes from the use of abundant commodities is now sought in the recognition of their value as commodities: the use of commodities becomes sufficient unto itself; the consumer is filled with religious fervor for the sovereign liberty of the commodities. Waves of enthusiasm for a given product, supported and spread by all the media of communication, are thus propagated with lightning speed. A style of dress emerges from a film; a magazine promotes night spots which launch various clothing fads. Just when the mass of commodities slides toward puerility, the puerile itself becomes a special commodity; this is epitomized by the gadget. We can recognize a mystical abandon to the transcendence of the commodity in free gifts, such as key chains which are not bought but are included by advertisers with prestigious purchases, or which flow by exchange in their own sphere. One who collects the key chains which have been manufactured for collection, accumulates the indulgences of the commodity, a glorious sign of his real presence among the faithful. Reified man advertises the proof of his intimacy with the commodity. The fetishism of commodities reaches moments of fervent exaltation similar to the ecstasies of the convulsions and miracles of the old religious fetishism. The only use which remains here is the fundamental use of submission.”

(‘The Society of the Spectacle’, Guy-Ernest Debord)

Tomorrow, Saturday Febraury 2, one of my new pieces (a suprise!) will be on exhibit at the RESURRECTION group show at Observatory brooklyn with many other talented artists:
RESURRECTION: A group art show curated by Observatory

February 2nd – March 16th, 2013

Opening reception: Saturday, February 2nd, 8pm (This is also Observatory’s 3rd annual fundraiser and costume party. More info here.)

Gallery Hours: Saturdays & Sundays 12-6pm

Everything goes, everything comes back;
eternally rolls the wheel of being.
Everything dies, everything blossoms again…

—Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra.

“Resurrection” originally meant “a festival commemorating Christ’s rising from the dead.” In this sense of play and sharing—a festival requires a community—Observatory invites you to witness its rebirth in 2013 in Resurrection, a group show examining all that is symbolically and literally back again.

Observatory’s Resurrection takes as its inspiration comings-back across science and art (the locust, Frankenstein, cloning as resurrection), myth and history (Lazarus, tales of the Flood, the phoenix), the hacking of the once-living (grave robbing anatomists who were called “resurrectionists,” relics of saints, ghosts), and the literal site of the Gowanus, which has absorbed the impact of the centuries like a champ, refusing to die.

Observatory itself experienced a nigh-fatal 2012, weathering a fire-flood and a superstorm only to enter the new year with hope rekindled.

Whatever your views on the circularity of time and the final un-resting place of the spirit, join us for a weird/weirdly beautiful group show, curated jointly.

Participating Artists

Grace Baxter, Ben Blatt, Jesse Bransford, Ryan Matthew Cohn, Joanna Ebenstein, Barbara Ensor, Ethan Gould, Pam Grossman, Megan Hays, Katie Innamorato, Sue Jeiven, Amber Joliffe, Megan Murtha, Annysa Ng, Rebeca Olguin, Katy Pierce, Nikki Romanello, Sigrid Sarda, Dana Sherwood, Mark Splatter, Daisy Tainton, Shannon Taggart & Twig Terrariums

“de mortuis nil nisi bene” (Nothing but good of the dead)
“We remember the old saying:

Si vis pacem, para bellum.
(If you wish peace, prepare for war.)

The times call for a paraphrase:

Si vis vitam, para mortem.
(If you wish life, prepare for death.)”

The motto of the Hanseatic League said: “Navigare necesse est, vivere non necesse” (It is necessary to sail the seas, but not to live.)

“It was not the intellectual puzzle or any particular death which roused the spirit of inquiry in man, but the conflict of emotions at the death of beloved and withal foreign and hated persons.
From this emotional conflict psychology arose. Man could no longer keep death away from him, for he had tasted of it in his grief for the deceased, but he did not want to acknowledge it, since he could not imagine himself dead. He therefore formed a compromise and concealed his own death but denied it the significance of destroying life, a distinction for which the death of his enemies had given him no motive. He invented spirits during his contemplation of the corpse of the person he loved, and his consciousness of guilt over the gratification which mingled with his grief brought it about that these first created spirits were transformed into evil demons who were to be feared. ”

“In our unconscious we daily and hourly do away with all those who stand in our way, all those who have insulted or harmed us. The expression: “The devil take him,” which so frequently crosses our lips in the form of an ill-humored jest, but by which we really intend to say, “Death take him,” is a serious and forceful death wish in our unconscious.”
“In his novel, Père Goriot, Balzac refers to a place in the works of J. J. Rousseau where this author asks the reader what he would do if, without leaving Paris and, of course, without being discovered, he could kill an old mandarin in Peking, with great profit to himself, by a mere act of the will. He makes it possible for us to guess that he does not consider the life of this dignitary very secure. “To kill your mandarin” has become proverbial for this secret readiness to kill, even on the part of people of today.”

“Once man was like god, but that has been spoiled. now man rules alone, on an egg, soft boiled.” – uncredited artist, Romanisches Café, Berlin, 1925

Hussar (pron.: /həˈzɑr/ hə-ZAR, /hʊˈzɑr/, or spelling pronunciation /həˈsɑr/ hə-SAR) refers to a number of types of light cavalry which originated in Hungary during the 15th century. The title and distinctive dress of these horsemen was subsequently widely adopted by light cavalry regiments in European and other armies. A number of armored or ceremonial mounted units in modern armies retain the designation of hussars. A shako is a tall, cylindrical military cap, usually with a visor, and sometimes tapered at the top. It is usually adorned with some kind of ornamental plate or badge on the front, metallic or otherwise, and often has a feather, plume (see hackle), or pompon attached at the top. The word shako originated from the Hungarian name csákós süveg (“peaked cap”), which was a part of the uniform of the Hungarian hussar of the 18th century. A pelisse was originally a short fur lined or fur trimmed jacket that was usually worn hanging loose over the left shoulder of hussar light cavalry soldiers, ostensibly to prevent sword cuts. It was fastened there using a lanyard. In cold weather it was worn over a stable jacket or shell jacket, but at all other times it was worn loose over the left shoulder over a jacket of similar style – but without the fur lining or trim – called a dolman jacket. The appearance of the pelise jacket was characteristically very short, extremely tight fitting (when worn), with patterns sewn with bullion lace on the back, cuffs, and collar. The front distinctively featured several rows of parallel frogging and loops, and either three or 5 lines of buttons.

Sing along with new lyrics to this Ramones classic:

Under the arc of the sewage stained boards,
Ancient hobos, and ganglords,
Beneath the ground, making mumbled sounds,
The smell of piss is all around,
Down underground, a cold wind blows
No one cares, nobody knows.

I don’t want to be stuck here at Essex Street,
I don’t want to miss the J again,
I don’t want to be stuck here at Essex Street,
I don’t want to miss the J again.

Follow crackheads to the seedy place,
This ain’t a dream, I can’t escape,
Molars and fangs, missing from smiles,
Winos moaning among the tiles,
And late night, watch in vain for headlights,
Smells like someone died, perfectly alright.

The platform is full, the air is foul,
In the distance, a morlock howls,
Hipsters from Urban Outfitters, go away,
Wetbrains and junkies, I curse this train,
And the night when the nuts cry out,
Listen close and you can hear me shout.

noun \ˌbet-ˈnwär, ˌbāt-\
plural bêtes noires
Definition of BÊTE NOIRE
: a person or thing strongly detested or avoided : bugbear

Examples of BÊTE NOIRE

a politician who is the bête noire of liberal groups

Origin of BÊTE NOIRE
French, literally, black beast
First Known Use: 1828
Synonyms: bogey, black beast, bugaboo, bugbear, dread, hobgoblin, ogre

Anarchist Evening Entertainment continues with a new week of programming of things I’ve been watching lately. Starting with a documentary on New York City Underground dwellers, homeless liberating themselves in the vacant train tunnels underneath the metropolis. Music videos, A special on Dante’s Inferno, Henri Matisse, and more.

https://www.youtube.com/user/MarkSplatter

An experience brought me back to an idea I had last year of putting things into channels via YouTube and curating my own television station of video content gathered from YouTube, the internet, uploaded myself etc. Not only music videos, but Documentaries, films and clips of subjects I want to portray, things I’m interested in. Even hosting my own show cooking, introducing music videos, talking about movies, whatever. There’s a ton of things to show available, all open licensed or not yet taken down.
I dont own a television myself, and more often than not most of my friends haven’t had television, at least in the past few months while I’ve stayed in a variety of homes and apartments. I do have the habit of watching certain series from time to time, Dexter, Madmen, Band of Brothers, Farscape, etc, but these I watch online, with no need of a television. I also have the habit since I almost always eat alone, of wanting to watch something while I eat at dinner.
I came home this evening to make another grilled cheese sandwhich deluxe and pondered what to watch. This came to mind, from the book I’m reading at the moment. ‘Tropic Of Cancer’ by Henry Miller.
Watching Miller as an old man rising from bed and slowly examining the pictures covering his bathroom walls, I recalled my old studio-bedroom wall, and as he explained the effect all those images had on him, I remember the same experience. He goes into his admiration for Hermann Hesse, discussing Buddhist iconography versus christian, the breasts of the woman bathing in his shower and the streets of New York. This is Anarchistic Evening Entertainment.

I was staying in a huge apartment house in Vienna, thanks to Julia. The owners were away for quite a while, several months at least, and more months to go before they would be back, so it was arranged that I would stay there for a few weeks.
Their home was several rooms each on two floors in a Victorian apartment building. The furnishings were a mismatched heap of 80s deco paired with left over nic-nacs from a bygone era, heaped with papers, portfolios and collected junk with nowhere left to put it, someplaces towered up to the exceptionally high, paneled ceilings.
… There was one recessed, dark alcove that led to another wing… I entered it once but had the sensation of being pushed out, with no air entering my lungs as I struggled in. That was completely alarming.