samedi 28 février 2009

# FIGHT WITH TOOLS /// Temporary Autonomous Zone

The TAZ is an art of life in continual rising up, wild but gentle--a seducer not a rapist, a smuggler rather than a bloody pirate, a dancer not an eschatologist.

TAZ or Temporary Autonomous Zone is an essay written by Peter Lamborn Wilson aka Hakim Bey about the creation of small territories free of any structure of control for a moment. This time issue is a very important point of the TAZ, because it advocates a non-revolutionnary way of acting which would imply that it should be perrenial. Instead of that, the TAZ takes advantage of the system's folds to exist for a short while.

You can read it online here

vendredi 27 février 2009

# Godzilla by Michael Sorkin (1990)

Several years ago, before ever having visited Tokyo, I decided that before my delirious vision of the place was contaminated by the rigors of actual observation, we'd better do a project there. Although we've called the building Godzilla, it isn't mean to be sinister, just large: a building with presence. Perhaps it would seem less threatening had we called it Barney.
The project's affinities with Godzilla, however, are not merely morphological but conceptual. Just as that monster (I mean the term not pejoratively but genetically) stand for a certain intensification of Japanese post-nuclear anxieties, so this building represents, for me, an intensification of Tokyo-ness. In it, the tangled skein of the city finds a critical mass and erupts into form, a verticalization of what I took - from my distant vantage point - to be the fundamental (dis)order of the city.
extract from the book Wiggle by Michael Sorkin Studio published by The Monacelli Press

jeudi 26 février 2009

# Stanley Kubrick retrospective in Paris

La Filmotheque du quartier latin, a little but well known Parisian theater proposes currently a Stanley Kubrick retrospective with seven movies: 2001 A space odyssee, The shining, Barry Lyndon, Clockwork orange, Lolita, Full metal jacket and Eyes wide shut. One can regret here that the fantastic Dr Strangelove does not belong to this list but the initiative already desserve to be salute !





mardi 24 février 2009

# FIGHT WITH TOOLS /// Thoreau's civil disobedience


Henry David Thoreau wrote Civil disobedience in 1849 principally against war between the United States and Mexico, and slavery which was still running at this time in America. However it became an a-temporal essay about resistance against a government. Some extract being more explicit that anything I could write, here are two of them:

If the injustice is part of the necessary friction of the machine of government, let it go, let it go: perchance it will wear smooth—certainly the machine will wear out. If the injustice has a spring, or a pulley, or a rope, or a crank, exclusively for itself, then perhaps you may consider whether the remedy will not be worse than the evil; but if it is of such a nature that it requires you to be the agent of injustice to another, then I say, break the law. Let your life be a counter-friction to stop the machine. What I have to do is to see, at any rate, that I do not lend myself to the wrong which I condemn.
[...]
I meet this American government, or its representative, the State government, directly, and face to face, once a year—no more—in the person of its tax-gatherer; this is the only mode in which a man situated as I am necessarily meets it; and it then says distinctly, Recognize me; and the simplest, the most effectual, and, in the present posture of affairs, the indispensablest mode of treating with it on this head, of expressing your little satisfaction with and love for it, is to deny it then. My civil neighbor, the tax-gatherer, is the very man I have to deal with—for it is, after all, with men and not with parchment that I quarrel—and he has voluntarily chosen to be an agent of the government. How shall he ever know well that he is and does as an officer of the government, or as a man, until he is obliged to consider whether he will treat me, his neighbor, for whom he has respect, as a neighbor and well-disposed man, or as a maniac and disturber of the peace, and see if he can get over this obstruction to his neighborlines without a ruder and more impetuous thought or speech corresponding with his action. I know this well, that if one thousand, if one hundred, if ten men whom I could name—if ten honest men only—ay, if one HONEST man, in this State of Massachusetts, ceasing to hold slaves, were actually to withdraw from this co-partnership, and be locked up in the county jail therefor, it would be the abolition of slavery in America. For it matters not how small the beginning may seem to be: what is once well done is done forever. But we love better to talk about it: that we say is our mission. Reform keeps many scores of newspapers in its service, but not one man. If my esteemed neighbor, the State's ambassador, who will devote his days to the settlement of the question of human rights in the Council Chamber, instead of being threatened with the prisons of Carolina, were to sit down the prisoner of Massachusetts, that State which is so anxious to foist the sin of slavery upon her sister—though at present she can discover only an act of inhospitality to be the ground of a quarrel with her—the Legislature would not wholly waive the subject of the following winter.

picture found on zazzle

# Zarathoustra returns

I eventually found Zarathoustra's extract I published earlier in English ! Here it is:

Then, however, something happened which made every mouth mute and every eye fixed. In the meantime, of course, the rope-dancer had commenced his performance: he had come out at a little door, and was going along the rope which was stretched between two towers, so that it hung above the market-place and the people. When he was just midway across, the little door opened once more, and a gaudily-dressed fellow like a buffoon sprang out, and went rapidly after the first one. "Go on, halt-foot," cried his frightful voice, "go on, lazy-bones, interloper, sallow-face!—lest I tickle thee with my heel! What dost thou here between the towers? In the tower is the place for thee, thou shouldst be locked up; to one better than thyself thou blockest the way!"—And with every word he came nearer and nearer the first one. When, however, he was but a step behind, there happened the frightful thing which made every mouth mute and every eye fixed—he uttered a yell like a devil, and jumped over the other who was in his way. The latter, however, when he thus saw his rival triumph, lost at the same time his head and his footing on the rope; he threw his pole away, and shot downwards faster than it, like an eddy of arms and legs, into the depth. The market-place and the people were like the sea when the storm cometh on: they all flew apart and in disorder, especially where the body was about to fall.

Zarathustra, however, remained standing, and just beside him fell the body, badly injured and disfigured, but not yet dead. After a while consciousness returned to the shattered man, and he saw Zarathustra kneeling beside him. "What art thou doing there?" said he at last, "I knew long ago that the devil would trip me up. Now he draggeth me to hell: wilt thou prevent him?"

"On mine honour, my friend," answered Zarathustra, "there is nothing of all that whereof thou speakest: there is no devil and no hell. Thy soul will be dead even sooner than thy body: fear, therefore, nothing any more!"

The man looked up distrustfully. "If thou speakest the truth," said he, "I lose nothing when I lose my life. I am not much more than an animal which hath been taught to dance by blows and scanty fare."

"Not at all," said Zarathustra, "thou hast made danger thy calling; therein there is nothing contemptible. Now thou perishest by thy calling: therefore will I bury thee with mine own hands."

When Zarathustra had said this the dying one did not reply further; but he moved his hand as if he sought the hand of Zarathustra in gratitude.

Friedrich Nietzsche. Thus spoke Zarathoustra (translator: Thomas Common)

lundi 23 février 2009

# House by Pascal Hausermann

Here is a house designed by Pascal Hauserman and built in 1968 in east of France (near Annecy). This building represents pretty well the way of designing of this French architect who realized several projects that he calls bubbles.
two first pictures were extracted from the book Architecture Sculpture published by HYX.


dimanche 22 février 2009

# Albert Camus' revolt

Once again, Camus is speaking about the creative act. Here is an extract of the Rebel (L'homme révolté) which, once again, make me being sorry I don't have it in English...

En attendant, la révolution conquérante, dans l’égarement de son nihilisme, menace ceux qui, contre elle prétendent maintenir l’unité dans la totalité. Un des sens de l’histoire aujourd’hui, et plus encore de demain, est la lutte entre les artistes et les nouveaux conquérants entre les témoins de la révolution créatrice et les bâtisseurs de la révolution nihiliste. Sur l’issue de la lutte, on ne peut se faire que des illusions raisonnables. Du moins, nous savons désormais qu’elle doit être menée. Les conquérants modernes peuvent tuer, mais semblent ne pouvoir créer. Les artistes savent créer, mais ne peuvent réellement tuer. On ne trouve de meurtriers que par exception parmi les artistes. A la longue, l’art dans nos sociétés révolutionnaires devrait donc mourir. Mais alors la révolution aura vécu. Chaque fois que, dans un homme, elle tue l’artiste qu’il aurait pu être, la révolution s’exténue un peu plus. Si, enfin, les conquérants pliaient le monde à leur loi, ils ne prouveraient pas que la quantité est reine, mais que ce monde est enfer. Dans cet enfer même, la place de l’art coïnciderait encore avec celle de la révolte vaincue, espoir aveugle et vide au creux des jours désespérés. Ernst Dwinger, dans son Journal de Sibérie, parle de ce lieutenant allemand qui, prisonnier depuis des années dans un camp où régnaient le froid et la faim, s’était construit, avec des touches de bois, un piano silencieux. Là, dans l’entassement de la misère, au milieu d’une cohue en haillons, il composait une étrange musique qu’il était seul à entendre. Ainsi, jetés dans l’enfer, de mystérieuses mélodies et les images cruelles de la beauté enfuie nous apporteraient toujours, au milieu du crime et de la folie, l’écho de cette insurrection harmonieuse qui témoigne au long des siècles pour la grandeur humaine.

Albert Camus, L’homme révolté 1951. Folio 1985

samedi 21 février 2009

# FIGHT WITH TOOLS /// 1871 Paris' Commune


This article has a strong connexion with last one about the canyon street. As a matter of fact, Paris' Commune was one of the most important urban conflicts in European history. It stayed nowadays as a good example of people's revolution as it last for a too short time to create a disenchantment. People who theorised about this event are many (Marx, Lenin, Debord...)

During seventy two days of 1871’s spring, Paris city lived in secession from the National Assembly which just capitulated in war against the Prussians. Simultaneously the Commune defends itself against the national “versaillaise” army lead by Thiers and “play the game” of considering to exist for a long period. Thus is created a Central Comity whose representatives are originally from the working population.

As far as urbanism is concerned, Situationnists Guy Debord, Raoul Vaneigem and Attila Kotanyi, one century after the Commune was declared, considered that "it has been in Human History, the only production of a revolutionary urbanism" which assumes as a principle that no building is innocent. That is how the Vendome column was solemnly destroyed on may 16th. In fact this column was the symbol of the first Empire’s (Napoleon Bonaparte) authority and the Bourgeois’ power.

This urbanism can be thus said to substract the alienation zones within the city, which was called by Situationnist, positive holes. The Commune’s story illustrate quite clearly the dilemma which can appear with this operation. In fact, on may 24th, huge debates took place within the Central Comity to decide whether or not symbolic building should be destroyed before the national army win the conflict. That is how the City Hall, the Courthouse and the Tuilleries palace (which was never rebuilt since then) were burnt down but Notre Dame and the Louvre on the other hand stayed intact, because defended by artists collectives. Situationnist retrospectively judged that Paris’ cathedral has been saved because of “permanent aesthetic values belonging to museums’ spirit when other men legitimately wanted to access to expression this day by this destruction as a defiance to a society which was rejecting all their lives to silent.

For more information about this chapter of France's history click here.

jeudi 19 février 2009

# FIGHT WITH TOOLS /// Canyon street/Armin Linke

In a little more than one month, next G20 summit will happen in London. These pictures has been shot during G8 summit in Genoa in 2001 by Armin Linke. They show how much streets can be used as controled canyons. A lot of western cities has been replanned during XIXth century for this kind of purposes. Napoleon the 3rd/Haussmann Paris is obviouly an example of that. No more narrow network maze within urban fabric, only wide axis police can easily control. History war used to happen outside of the cities or at its periphery at least, new conflicts are now almost exclusively happenning within cities.




mercredi 18 février 2009

# FIGHT WITH TOOLS /// Alain Robert the French Spiderman


Alain Robert develops an original way of moving in the city, he litteraly climbs on high rises' facades without any security device and eventually...get arrested by authorities. He is now famous all over the world as the "French spiderman" and architects such as Renzo Piano (NYTimes' tower) invent devices to prevent him to climb their buildings !



# Nietzsche's tightrope walker

Here is an extract of Nietzsche's Zarathoustra. If anybody can transmit it to me in English, I'd be glad to publish it as well !

story of a tightrope walker...


[…] Mais il advint alors une chose qui rendit toutes les bouches muettes et fixes tous les regards. Dans l’entre-temps, le saltimbanque avait commencé son ouvrage ; il était sorti d’une petite porte et marchait sur la corde tendue entre deux tours au-dessus de la foule ; mais il avait fait juste la moitié du chemin, la petite porte s’ouvrit de nouveau et un gars bariolé qui avait l’air d’un paillasse en sorti d’un bond et courut à grand pas vers le premier. « Avance donc, boiteux, criait-il de son horrible voix, avance, traînard, sournois, face de carême ! Et prends garde que je ne te chatouille de mon talon ! Que fais-tu là entre ces deux tours ? C’est dans la tour qu’est ta place, on devrait t’enfermer, tu barres la route à un meilleur que toi. » Et à chaque mot il approchait davantage ; mais comme il n’était plus qu’à un pas derrière le premier, il arriva cette chose épouvantable qui rendit toutes les bouches muettes et fixes tous les regards : le nouveau venu poussa un cri diabolique et sauta par-dessus celui qui lui barrait la route. Or, celui-ci, voyant la victoire son rival, perdit la tête et lâcha la corde ; il jeta aussitôt son balancier et tomba plus vite encore dans le vide en un tourbillon de bras et de jambes. La place et la foule ressemblaient à la mer quand la tempête s’élève ; tous s’enfuirent en tous sens, pêle-mêle, surtout à l’endroit où le corps allait s’abattre.

Mais Zarathoustra ne bougea pas, et le corps tomba tout près de lui, meurtri et brisé, mais vivant encore. Au bout d’un instant le blessé reprit conscience et vit Zarathoustra s’agenouiller à ses côtés : « Que fais-tu là ? dit-il enfin, je le savais depuis longtemps que le Diable me ferait un croc-en-jambe. A présent il va m’entraîner en enfer ; vas-tu l’en empêcher ? »

-« Sur mon honneur, ami, répondit Zarathoustra, tout ce dont tu parles n’existe pas ; il n’y a ni Diable ni enfer. Ton âme va mourir plus vite encore que ton corps ; n’aie donc plus de crainte. »

L’homme leva un regard méfiant. « Si tu dis vrai, dit-il, je ne perdrai rien en perdant la vie. Je ne suis guère plus qu’un animal qu’on a dressé à danser, à force de coups et de maigre pitance. »

- Non pas, dit Zarathoustra. Tu as fait du danger ton métier, il n’y a rien là de méprisable. A présent tu vas mourir de ton métier, aussi vais-je t’enterrer de mes mains. »

A ces paroles, le mourant ne répondit plus ; mais il agita la main comme s’il cherchait la main de Zarathoustra pour le remercier.


Friedrich Nietzsche. Ainsi parlait Zarathoustra (Also sprach Zarathustra). 1885. Flammarion 1996 p55

mardi 17 février 2009

# Pruned / Ski in Chicago

Here is an amazing article published by Pruned about 1954's Chicago stadium's ski jumping ramp installation...