"There is no me. I do not exist… There used to be a me, but I had it surgically removed." It isn't I can't stand myself, but I'm on the surface extremely dull. There is no spice in my DNA to make me special. What I can do is re-invent myself to a better version of me. Or start from scratch and create a new "me." I tried to do my best to blend in with the crowd that I came to be accustomed to, but clearly, they never took me seriously. All of them feel that I'm a performer, but for the heck out of them, they can't remember one film or theater piece I have done. They know that I exist, but in what degree is totally beyond them.
As a card-carrying pataphysician, I have consistently been mistaken for Peter Sellers. The interesting fact is that we don't look like each other at all. But still, I'm always reminded of him, due to what people think he or I look like. A day doesn't go by, where someone doesn't comment on the resemblance of the dead late comic actor. If he was alive, I wonder if people would still make the comparisons between him and me. "The dead… are more real than the living because they are complete." I suspect if I were dead, then I would get my own identity back. Again, even with that, my lack of uniqueness would be challenging for someone to pin me down. Also, my face is not mine, but a remembrance of someone else's face or appearance.
To live in one's shadow, is a traveler wandering in a neighborhood where he's not invited, but accepted with closed arms. I have often appeared in front of an audience, but they were expecting something else, or even someone else. It takes approximately ten minutes into my performance where the audience realizes that they are at the wrong show. After a while, I believe "that the applause of silence is the only kind that counts." Every day I try to re-think myself in a new position where I find that I need to think what 'my character' would do in a particular or specific incident or plan. It is rarely that I consider "what I would do" but mostly 'what would he or she does." And that is pretty much how I see the world. A fellow pataphysician has commented that "the theater, bringing impersonal masks to life, is only for those who are virile enough to create new life: either as a conflict of passions subtler than those we already know or as a completely new character."
I was reading Siegried Sassoon's poetry, and I came upon a statement by him that touched me: "The fact is that five years ago I was, as near as possible, a different person to what I am tonight. I, as I am now, didn't exist at all. Will the same thing happen in the next five years? I hope so." The only occupation that I'm suitable for is acting. Sadly I can't remember a written line if my very life been dependent on it. What I do is improvised anytime I find myself in a conversation with someone. I never know where or when the conversation ends, but I pretend that I do know, and I think the other person will gently follow my lead - in a sense, it is like dancing the waltz, where one leads the other.
I wrote a play that had one performance, so I guess one can call it a total failure. Nevertheless, the lead character stayed with me, and I adopted his language as my own. For instance, I never say the wind, or it's windy. Instead, I would say "that which blows." Slowly but surely, I built up a character that became comfortable to wear. But I was always aware that the things I said or do were based on another character - sometimes a fictional character. In the future (if there is a future) the play "will not be performed in full until the author (the royal we) have acquired enough experience to savor all its beauties." I tend to see the world as a theater piece, and sadly, I'm the only one in the audience.
A very dense book regarding mostly the "Dandy" spirt or aesthetic through literature and art. Alexi Kukuljevic pulls out all my favorite heroes in this one volume: Buster Keaton, Kubrick's "The Shining," Marcel Duchamp, Charles Baudelaire, Alfred Jarry, Jacques Vaché and even the great comedian Andy Kaufman. A deep reflection on those who lived/worked on the outskirts of their interested field. Kukuljevic's book is dream-like on a subject matter that is very difficult to nail down. The above artists and writers (and performers) are hard to define for their 'absently' spirit, where in many cases, it is their art that speaks for themselves, and we reflect on what we think is their personality, but in the end of the day, who knows? "Liquidation World" got to me because I often think of these artists as major touchstones for my own aesthetic and pleasure. A fascinating book that keeps turning the wheels in my mind, long after I read the last page.
“There is no me. I do not exist… There used to be a me, but I had it surgically removed.” It isn’t I can’t stand myself, but I’m on the surface extremely dull. There is no spice in my DNA to make me special. What I can do is re-invent myself to a better version of me. Or just start from scratch and make a totally new “me.” I tried to do my best to blend in with the crowd that I came to be accustomed to, but clearly they never took me seriously. All of them feel that I’m a performer, but for the heck out of them, they can’t remember one film or theater piece I have done. They know that I exist, but in what degree is totally beyond them.
As a card-carrying pataphysician, I have consistently been mistaken for Peter Sellers. The interesting fact is that we don’t look like each other at all. But still, I’m consistently reminded of him, due to what people think he or I looks like. A day doesn’t go by, where someone doesn’t comment on the resemblance of the dead late comic actor. If he was alive, I wonder if people would still make the comparisons between me and him. “The dead… are more real than the living because they are complete.” I suspect if I was dead, then I would get my own identity back. Again, even with that, my lack of uniqueness would be very difficult for someone to pin me down. Even my face is not mine, but a remembrance of someone else’s face or appearance.
To live in one’s shadow, is a traveler wandering in a neighborhood where he’s not invited, but accepted with closed arms. I have often appeared in front of an audience, but they expecting something else, or even someone else. It takes approximately ten minutes into my performance where the audience realizes that they are at the wrong show. After awhile, I believe “that the applause of silence is the only kind that counts.” Everyday I try to re-think myself in a new position where I find that I need to think what ‘my character’ would do in a certain or specific incident or plan. It is rarely that I consider “what I would do” but mostly ‘what would he or she does. ” And that is pretty much how I see the world. A fellow pataphysician has commented that “the theater, bringing impersonal masks to life, is only for those who are virile enough to create new life: either as a conflict of passions subtler than those we already know, or as a complete new character."
I was reading Siegried Sassoon’s poetry and I came upon a statement by him that touched me: “The fact is that five years ago I was, as near as possible, a different person to what I am tonight. I, as I am now, didn’t exist at all. Will the same thing happen in the next five years? I hope so.” The only occupation that I’m suitable for is acting. Sadly I can’t remember a written line if my very life been dependent on it. What I do is improvised anytime I find myself in a conversation with someone. I never know where or when the conversation ends, but I pretend that I do know, and I think the other person will just gently follow my lead - in a sense it is like dancing the waltz, where one leads the other.
I wrote a play, that had one performance, so I guess one can call it a total failure. Nevertheless, the lead character stayed with me, and I adopted his language as my own. For instance I never say the wind or it's windy, instead I would say “that which blows.” Slowly but surely I built up a character that became comfortable to wear. But I was always aware that the things I said or do was based on another character - sometimes a fictional character. In the future (if there is a future) the play “will not be performed in full until the author (the royal we) has acquired enough experience to savor all it beauties.” I tend to see the world as a theater piece, and sadly, I’m the only one in the audience.
Pathaphysics, the science of imaginary solutions, is a science made up by the writer Alfred Jarry. What may be a joke to some has become a life-time obsession for writers & artists such as Boris Vian, Raymond Queneau, Marcel Duchamp, John Cage and etc. & etc. In many ways its laughter, but taken on an almost (anti) spiritual level. If its a joke, it's a type of humor to convey the absurdity of 20th Century life.
René Daumal a sort of Surrealist (who refused to join up with Breton & Co) and a man devoted to the spiritual side of life. He wrote two wonderful books - "A Night of Serious Drinking" and "Mount Analogue." And also self-taught himself Sanskrit language. So here's a young man totally obsessed with the thought of death and what happens afterwards. In many ways, Daumal is the perfect card carrying member of Pataphysics - because as a science it is not really there, and what's there is a spiritual essence of what is not explained. Nor can it be explained. So in other words a perfect medium for the Poet!
The publisher Wakefield Press, is one of the great small presses out there right now. Beautifully designed, well thought out, and just brilliant.
The Reaktion Books "Critical Lives" series is an excellent introduction to the avant-garde 19th and 20th Century. One of the latest ones, Jill Fell's "Alfred Jarry," is a very important and equally enjoyable bio on this great French writer/playwright.
The inventor of "the play/puppet play Ubu Roi" and "pataphisics" the study and school of nonsense. Also a man who is fond of guns and racing bicycles. In fact that was his one mode of traveling around France. He was the heart of the fin de siécle, yet he died a very early death due to excess drinking.
Reading this 200 page bio makes me want to go back into the world of Jarry, who was one of the fathers of DADA and Surrealism. For sure a major influence on Boris Vian - and actually, Jarry was very much of a boho 1960's European figure. I can imagine him being involved with the Living Theater. But alas 60 years too early! Its a shame that he didn't live to see what he brought to the world
Happy Birthday Elliott Gould
-
Happy Birthday to one of the all-time greats and one of the coolest of the
cool Elliott Gould. From my 2019 New Beverly interview with Elliott Gould
about ...
Posts
