Posts tonen met het label freedom. Alle posts tonen
Posts tonen met het label freedom. Alle posts tonen

zondag 26 juli 2026

Radio special: Tetsuo Kogawa

Tetsuo Kogawa is a radio pioneer in several ways in radio. From micro radio projects, on a very local scale, to technological advice, philosophy and performances.

His websites are referred to elsewhere, in earlier posts on this Radio Neverno blog.

Here is a link to his micro radio manifesto. You can search on that website for more information, technological advice and performance links. 

Below a text written by Kogawa on Trash-art, originally published in 1999.




Trash-art in the age of Digital Ash 

Tetsuo Kogawa


In order to rethink the viability of "trash-art", Walter Benjamin's arguments on 'garbage/trash'(Abfall) and 'rag-picker'(Lumpensammler) are most stimulating. In the past I have called Benjamin's method a "technique of garbage collection"[1]. I dubbed it this considering Benjamin's idiosyncratic materialism that interprets beings as garbage/trash, his historical philosophy which views creation less as output than as rearrangement, and the movements in the methodology of semiotics and deconstruction that developed following Benjamin. In a letter to his friend Gershom Scholem (August 9, 1935), in which Benjamin explains the concept of his later "Passagenarbeiten" treatises, he comments that "this work uses surrealism philosophically and sublimates (aufheben) it, at the same time attempts to capture an image of history in those things that present existence (Dasein) most subtly fixed, in other words in the "garbage/trash" of present existence.[2]

Radical Surrealist montage technique was well-known to Benjamin, but his aim was to develop it into something more profound--a means of historical awareness. In his "Theses on the Philosophy of History," a condensed version of his view of history using montage techniques (or what William Burroughs would describe as "cutup") are the following words: "The true picture of the past flits by. The past can be seized only as an image which flashes up at the instant when it can be recognized and is never seen again."[3] That "image never seen again" is not an image from some great event, but an image that appears in the "waste" of no consequence, and those able to bear witness to it are not "heroes" or some class with special privileges, but the "oppressed."

In a review written by Benjamin in 1930 that passed virtually unnoticed, there is a brilliant passage which describes vividly what constituted his "technique of garbage collection." This is a review of "The Employee" (Die Angestellten), one of the early works of Siegfried Kracauer:

A rag-picker who picks up garbage early in the gray morning. Muttering darkly to himself, getting a bit drunk, he spears the remains of speeches and fragments of words with his stick, and throws them into his cart. Occasionally he picks up scraps of these hackneyed phrases like "human beings," "innerness," and "deepen," and flutters them contemptuously in the morning breeze. He is the morning garbage collector, but this morning is the morning of the day of the revolution.[4]


Kracauer, later in exile in New York and battling with extreme hardship and illness, analyzed the details of German film chiefly of the 1920s and 30s--the enormous "garbage of history"--and wrote "From Caligari to Hitler"(1947), which exposed incisively the collective unconsciousness that paved the way for Hitler's rise to prominence and was then flattened by the force of it.

To Benjamin, "garbage/trash" was the trivial part, the detail of enormous things, in other words, the minute. His mode of thinking was called "micrology". His attention to them was a stratagem in response to the movements of an era in which the will for power was still directed toward spatially enormous objects. The latter half of the twentieth century, however, is an era of "posts": "postindustrial," "postmodern," "postcolonial," "postnuclear," "postmassmediatique" . . . each in turn revolves on the axis of time and is sent on its way. Here, trivial things and minute things cease to be alternatives to the will for power, because not only does power itself no longer seek large things, it accepts the trivial and the minute. Therefore, "small is beautiful."

Theodor W. Adorno, while in one aspect having already adopted Benjamin's idea of "only through the details can we hope for a passage to the whole"[5] as his own mode of thought, also indicated to Benjamin his doubts about this method. To Benjamin, "garbage collection" not only gave form to a method of thought, it actually played an "important role" in the debate on the "passages" (arcades) of 19th century Paris. In a 1938 letter to Benjamin from exile in New York, Adorno made the following comment:

The problem is the rag-picker. To my mind the definition of the rag-picker as a marginal character personifying the very lowest level of poverty does not fulfil at all the promise of the term rag-picker when it appears in one of your texts. (abridged) I assume this shortcoming is related to the fact that the capitalist function of the rag-picker, i.e. the function that makes even beggars subordinate to their exchange value, is not made clear. Could I be reading too much into it all[6]?

Adorno, who was eventually to outlive Benjamin, was finally to write: "All post-Auschwitz culture, including its urgent critique, is garbage(Muell),"[7] and this demonstrates the pessimistic perceptions of Adorno in his belief that all "trivia," "details" and "minute things" are ashes and dust, and all that exists is endless ruin. The world would become not a "slum" littered with "garbage/trash" but would resemble a city after a nuclear attack, a ruin in which even the "details" cannot be discerned.

Benjamin's garbage collection technique directly supposes film montage. The reason his technique did not simply remain an application of the film technique known as montage is because he had a firm grasp of several techniques within the basic movements in thought and technology, i.e. the historical threads flowing into film montage--premodern storytelling, the 'rencontre fortuite' of surrealism, and even "quotations" of Berthold Brecht--and understood their meaning at the most basic of levels. However the digital technology that constructs virtually what does not really exist was not within the technological scope of Benjamin. Though things may be broken up, transformed into garbage and lose their wholeness, they do actually exist as extensions of the body. The electronic world of digital technology however, belongs to a level estranged from any extension of the body. This is, so to speak, the virtual "paradise" built on the "waste" and "ruins" of Adorno, and is "Utopia," literally no-place. Adorno's "pessimism" thus reverses itself into a positivism of electronic space.

Cyberspace is a no-place that nothing physical can exist. This is an ultimate form of garbage/trash where no body can survive. Art is an art that something physical flashes up at the instant over the space. Art can continue to exist only in the phase of time. Due to the cyberspace that exterminates physical element, live human body could reactivate itself in the temporal relation with it. Trash-art in the cyberspace will go to live action such as the live streaming.


Notes:
[1] Tetsuo Kogawa, Shutai no Tenkan (Changing the Subject). Tokyo: Miraisha, 1978, pp. 235-8.
[2] Gershom Scholem and Theodor W. Adorno, eds., Walter Benjamin, Briefe 2. Frankfurt am Mine:Suhrkamp Verlag, 1978, p.685.
[3] Hannah Arendt, ed., Walter Benjamin, Illuminations. Translated by Harry Zohm. New York: Schocken Books, 1968, p. 235.
[4] Hella Tiedemann-Bartels, ed., Walter Benjamin Gesammelte Schriften III. Frankfurt am Mine:Suhrkamp Verlag, 1971, p.225.
[5] Theodor W. Adorno, Ueber Walter Benjamin. Frankfurt am Mine: Suhrkamp Verlag, 1990, p.87.
[6] Ibid., pp.159-160.
[7] Theodor W. Adorno, Negative Dialectics. Translated by E.B. Ashton. New York: The Seabury Press, 1979, p.367.

(I appreciate Pamela Virgilio Miki for her help totranslate the original Japanese text into English.)

Isaev Alexsei(ed.): The look from the East, Media ArtLab, Moscow, 2000





maandag 16 maart 2026

Fart School

Ingezonden stuk/ Submitted piece


In 2008, at the Gerrit Rietveld Academie in Amsterdam, a book was born that refused to

follow the usual rules. It wasn’t polite, it wasn’t cautious, and it certainly wasn’t going to fit inside tidy

institutional expectations. Created by Sina Khani and Tunç Topçuoğlu, Fart School was a

complete invention: a fictional art school, with imaginary students producing nonexistent artworks, a

satirical mirror held up to the pretension, jargon, and self-importance of the art world.


The promise from the academy was bold: complete artistic freedom, unrestricted freedom

of speech. And for six months, Khani and Topçuoğlu (aka tunctop) took it seriously. Days

blurred into nights. The manuscript grew through endless writing, fights, reconciliations, and 

obsessive creativity.


Blood, sweat, and tears went into every page. They followed ideas to their furthest, most

irreverent extremes without asking permission, trusting that the structure around them could

not—and would not—burn.


But freedom within institutions often comes with invisible limits. On the day the book was

meant to go to print, the mood shifted. The manuscript, once celebrated for its audacity, was

suddenly deemed too bold, too disrespectful, too playful with ideas deemed sacred. The project was

canceled.


No debate. No negotiation. Just a decisive stop by their teachers Linda van Deursen and

Will Holder. The very institution that had promised freedom revealed the boundaries of its tolerance.


Seventeen years later, the work has resurfaced, intact and unapologetic, finally presented

at The Unsafe House in Amsterdam. Sina Khani, addressing a restless audience during the

Schaduwbal literary evening, recounted the story with both anger and clarity: cancellation is not new, 

it  is timeless. Ideas cannot be erased simply because they challenge authority; they can be delayed, 

hidden, even suppressed, but never destroyed.


The book appears now exactly as it was written: raw, irreverent, and uncut. The only

additions are a new introduction, a colophon, and a fresh cover. It stands as a testament to 

persistence,  to the absurdity and brilliance of chasing freedom inside structures that claim to honor 

it,  and to the enduring power of satire.


Fart School reminds us that you cannot teach art, you cannot institutionalize creativity, and

that the truest experiments are often those that refuse compromise. Seventeen years in the

making, it finally exists—not softened, not edited, but alive in all its original audacity.


Down with fake art academies.

Down with institutionalized art.

Long live the arts.


Long live Fart School.






Here is Sina Khani’s speech performed at the book launch during Het Schaduwbal at The

Unsafe House Amsterdam:


"Good evening.

Let’s start with the simple journalism principle: who, what, where.

In 2008, my friend Tunç Topçuoğlu and I made a book.

It was called Fart School.

The project was developed within the Gerrit Rietveld Academie in Amsterdam.

The idea was simple.

We invented an art school that didn’t exist.

With students who didn’t exist.

And those students made artworks that didn’t exist.

A complete fictional art world.

Through this imaginary school, we could mock everything.

The pretension.

The jargon.

The sacred seriousness of the art world.

It was satire.

Rough.

Direct.

And we were promised one thing.

Complete artistic freedom.

Unrestricted freedom of speech.

So we took those words seriously.

For months we worked on the book.

Blood, sweat, and tears.

Endless nights.

Fights. Arguments.

Making up.

Writing.

Writing.

Writing.

The manuscript grew.

The deadline approached.

And then.



On the day of the deadline.

The day the book was supposed to go to the printer.

The teachers looked at it and said: no.

Too bold.

Too disrespectful.

Too satirical.

The book was canceled.

Not after a debate.

Just stopped.

Behind our backs.

And today, people act like cancel culture is something new.

It’s not.

Institutions celebrate freedom.

Until someone actually uses it.

But an idea cannot be canceled forever.

You can delay it.

You can hide it.

But you cannot destroy it.

And that is why we are here.

Seventeen years later, we decided to uncancel ourselves.

The book exists now.

Exactly as it was.

So let this be clear.

Down with institutionalized arts.

Long live the arts."


Submitted by Medusa Jest.


LINKS:

Sina Khani

Tunc Top

The Unsafe Journal

The Unsafe House