Kova uA? Bowie

A?URNALAS: DAILAi??
TEMA: BendrakultAi??riniai tekstai
AUTORIUS:Ai??Tomas S. Butkus
DATA: 2013-12

#1

Menas yra nuolatinAi?? kova, greiA?iausiai tokia pati, kaip ir bet kuris kitas A?monijos uA?siAi??mimas A?ioje planetoje. Teikiantis dA?iaugsmAi??, keliantis pasidygAi??jimAi?? ir A?leikA?tulA?, varantis A?iovulA?, dirginantis vaizduotAi?? ir uA?kreA?iantis tAi?? paA?iAi?? akimirkAi?? pasiryA?ti didA?iausiai beprotybei. Akademikai, amatininkai, pradinukai ir profai, visi jie puikiai supranta, apie kAi?? aA? A?ia. AtokesnAi??s stovylos, tiesa, abejingos A?iai iA?tarai. Savo chrestomatinAi??mis povyzomis jos sakoAi??ai??i?? jokia tai kova. Nes kovoja tik pamiA?Ai??liai. Vyrai. Arba ligoniai, bandantys tokiu bAi??du susitvarkyti santykius su pasauliu. Kad jis nepriverstA? jAi??sA? iA?A?okti iA? oro baliono ar iA?A?audyti visA? saloje reziduojanA?iA? skautA?, susirinkusiA? A? rudens A?ventAi??. Bet kova toks jau A?odis. Jei nebAi??tA? buvAi?? kitatikiA? ir kitaverA?iA?, ilgus metus naikinusiA? vienA? kitus vardan teritorijos, kalbos ar klasinAi??s priklausomybAi??s, A?is A?odis bAi??tA? reiA?kAi??s labai paprastus dalykus. PavyzdA?iui, kovo mAi??nesA?. LaikAi??, kai paprasA?iausiai ima skeldAi??ti gyvybAi?? kaustantis sAi??stingio lukA?tas. Kai uA?gimsta vidinis poreikis A?veikti sunkio jAi??gAi??, atsispirti sapno gravitacijai ir grA?A?ti A? A?itAi?? pasaulA?.

Ai??tai apie tokiAi?? kovAi?? mAi??sA?iau nesulaukAi??s pavasario. NusitaikAi??s A? realybAi??s bestiariumAi??, rinkau A?odA?iA? skeveldras, terminotaurus. Galvos skliaute vaizdijosi kadaise sukurti ir iA?gimdyti pavidalai, regis, nepriklausantys jokiai tariamai patirA?iai, bAi??viui, kad apie juos bAi??tA? galima pasakyti kAi?? nors konkretaus. TaA?iau konkretus gali bAi??ti tik esamos akimirkos fizinAi??s aplinkos srautasAi??ai??i?? baseino atbraila, gatAi??vAi??s kampas su aprAi??dijusia inA?ineriniA? tinklA? dislokacijos lentele. Gal A?iek tiek konkretus pasirodys vienas kitas A?mogus, A?vilgsnis, prokuratAi??ros pareigAi??nA? skambutis. TaA?iau jau kitAi?? dienAi?? visi A?ie vakarykA?A?io gyvenimo A?enklai bus iA?trinti. Atmintis, tiesa, prisimins, dar bandys savo matricoje atgaminti jA? kontAi??rus, bet tai jau bus tik akivaras, sklidinas palaidA? vaizdA?, garsA? ir A?odA?iA? iA? gatvAi??s.

#2

Vienas iA? kovos tikslA?Ai??ai??i?? uA?kariauti naujas teritorijas. ai??zKitos dienosai??? albume vizualizacijos magas Davidas Robertas Jonesas (Davidas Bowie ai??i??Red.) kuria realybAi??s sapno parodijAi??. 66 metA? atlikAi??jas savo naujausiAi?? albumAi?? pristatanA?iame vaizdo klipe pozuoja virtualiai 1,5 milijono dydA?io auditorijai. PripaA?inkime, kaip megaA?vaigA?dei[1], tai nAi??ra daug. Ne visai mirAi??s aktorius grA?A?ta A? scenAi?? suvaidinti vaidmens, regis, populiariausio A?moniA? istorijoje. Ir jam pavyksta. Pavyksta A?tikinti, kad muzikinis klipas lieka A?taigiausia medijA? meno forma, jungianA?ia vaizdus, garsus ir tekstAi??. Be viso to, A?iame junginyje A?montuota ir ideologinAi?? potekstAi??, galinti virsti trasuojanA?ia galios kulka. Tai gali paliudyti nesenas bandymas lietuviA?koje scenoje pakartoti JK[2] performansAi??Ai??ai??i?? spjaudant ant NukryA?iuotojo vizualizacijos, kuri greiA?iausiai buvo tik paprastas tekstas. Tai man priminAi?? kitAi?? epizodAi?? iA? mAi??sA? gyvenimo, kai JK[3] (ne, taiAi??ai??i?? ne sutapimas) pilieA?iai A?lapinosi ant Lietuvos Respublikos prezidentAi??ros sienos. Tada pamaniau, visai vaizdijanA?io A?mogaus partitAi??rai trAi??ksta tik vieA?o masturbacijos akto. Jei kovoA?iau uA? Bowie, greiA?iausiai imA?iausi A?ios temos. Ai??vykis turi bAi??ti reginys. Reginys turi bAi??ti technologinAi?? ir socialinAi?? inA?inerija, suardanti giliausius visuomenAi??je A?sibetonavusio kolektyvinio vaizdijimo ir naracijos pamatus. TodAi??l nedaug trAi??ko, kad TAi??kstantmeA?io, o tiksliau Lietuvos vardo paminAi??jimo istoriniuose analuose atidarymo reginys bAi??tA? mus iA?laisvinAi??sAi??ai??i?? iA? istorijos, iA? kultAi??ros, iA? sociumo. Apgirtusio Gedimino stovyla tada makabriA?kai suposi minios jAi??roje, lyg bAi??tA? mutavusio kentauro A?eA?Ai??lis, tuA?tuma, slenkanti deganA?iomis katedros navomis pro svyranA?iAi?? varpinAi?? RytA? kryptimiAi??ai??i?? Soboro link. Lyg bAi??tA? pats tikriausias mAi??sA? realybAi??s sapno A?sikAi??nijimas, liudijantis, kad paskutiniA? pagoniA? kelionAi?? istorijos greitkeliu, o kartu ir nesibaigianA?iomis modernybAi??s kalvarijomis dar tAi??siasi.

#3

Visai pagrA?stai galima kaltinti amerikieA?ius, esAi?? tai jie susigrobAi?? geriausiAi?? pasaulio rekvizitAi??. Taip mAi??sA?iau po keturias valandas trukusio maratono Metropoliteno muziejaus salAi??mis. Ai??tai kAi?? aA? ten pamaA?iau: iA?puoselAi??to salono prabanga kvepianA?ius interjerus, pilnus geriausio visA? laikA? meno. Brangiausias, kokios tik pasitaikAi?? istorijoje, meno kolekcijas iA? persA?, kinA?, Benino A?iabuviA? repertuaro. Tada prisiminiau A?ios kelionAi??s pradA?iAi??: deganA?iA? lietuvybAi??s A?enklA? aukurAi??, sukurtAi?? pagal geriausius pagoniA? paproA?ius. Vis dAi??lto visuminA? kolekcijA? solidumo A?spAi??dA? ardAi?? nuobodulio estetika, prasimuA?anti iA? renuarA?, elgrekA? ir pisarA?[4] pavirA?iA?. Jie sAi??dAi??jo signalizacija uA?minuotuose rAi??meliuose aukA?tai ant sienA?, taip kaip sAi??di parke ant suoliuko graA?i mergina (jos plikagalvAi?? signalizacija sAi??di netoliese paliktame A?evrolete). Visa keturiA? valandA? ekspedicija (tokiAi?? laiko atkarpAi?? man pavyko iA?kirpti iA? dviejA? parA? buvimo Niujorke) baigAi??si A?spAi??dingiausia, kokiAi?? tik galAi??jau A?sivaizduoti, gyvojo meno kolekcijaAi??ai??i?? Indonezijos Irian DA?ajos gyventojA? kanojomis. Ai??tai saldA?iausios beprotybAi??s vertas objektas, A?tai didA?iausios nuodAi??mAi??s ir stipriausio meninio afekto mano gyvenime pavidalas: A?eA?iametrinAi??s visos vyrA? genties visAi?? gyvenimAi?? skaptuotos valtys su ant kilio sAi??dinA?iais fetiA?ais sustatytos ekspozicijA? erdvAi??je taip, tarsi paneigtA? patA? Metropoliteno ir jo milijoniniA? eksponatA? egzistavimo faktAi??, tarsi paliudytA? buvimo A?ia ir dabar banalybAi??, plaukianA?iAi?? istorijos upe atgal A? PasaulinA? TvanAi??.

#4

RudeninAi??s kovos apeigos man priminAi?? ekspedicijAi?? A? vaikmetA?, keliaujant muziejaus patalpomis, lankant nerangias, pagyvenusias moteris apytuA?A?iA? saliA? erkeriuose, A?sispraudusias A? savo darbo valandas ir akies kampuA?iu stebinA?ias tavo neiA?manymAi??. Ai??ios salAi??s buvo skirtos vieninteliam tos A?alies eksponatui, uA?darytam stikliniame ParodA? rAi??mA? karste ir virstanA?iam dulkAi??mis, vos A? jA? prasiskverbia dirglus lankytojo A?vilgsnis. Nors tai nebuvo tas pats vaizdas, regAi??tas po daugelio metA? kitame A?emAi??s rutulio taA?ke, greiA?iau pats stebAi??jimo faktas, suvokus, jog tave nuo kAi??rinio skiria A?viesmeA?io siena. Taip, tai buvo ta pati aplinka, surinkta iA? kitA? medA?iagA? ir uA?pildyta daiktais, kaA?kada jau regAi??tais. TaA?iau labiausiai mane glumino tai, kad A?iuose stikliniuose karsteliuose gulAi??jo tos paA?ios dulkAi??s, per ilgAi?? lankymo sezonAi?? suneA?tos iA?tikimiausiA? lankytojA?. Ir tada supratau, ne supratau, bet buvau priverstas galutinai A?sitikinti, kad nesu ekspozicijos lankytojas. Nesu nei autorius, nei priA?iAi??rAi??tojas. GreiA?iau neA?vykusios gyvenimo A?vykiA? parodos kuratorius, stebintis A?A? pasaulA? iA? absoliuA?ios andergraundo paradigmos ir nesankcionuoto kolektyvinio ai??zaA?ai??? sAi??monAi??s srauto pozicijA?.

#5

Kova yra ir trumpiausia akimirka. Suirus vidiniA? regAi??jimA? laukui, patekau A? ekspozicijos koridoriA?, toliau laiptine pasiekiau perAi??jAi??. TurAi??jau visAi?? teisAi?? manyti, kad A?ie tarpiniA? situacijA? elementai A?ymAi??s ir tolesnAi??s mano kovos lauko perimetrAi??. TaA?iau klydau. AtsidAi??rAi??s tirA?toje miesto iA?orAi??je, pradAi??jau orientuotis pagal stipriausiAi?? apA?vietimo A?altinA?. Akimirkos architektAi??ra buvo pritrambuota tirA?to garsinio fonoAi??ai??i?? cypianA?iA? automobiliA? padangA?, A?aiA?aus metro traukiniA? kaukA?Ai??jimo, ateinanA?io iA? po visu miestu besitAi??sianA?io poA?emio. Netoliese buvo girdAi??ti ir gatvAi??s prekeiviA? A?Ai??kalojimai. Staiga iA?girdau metalinA? dviratAi??s priemonAi??s bilsmAi?? A? stulpAi??. Tada atsimerkiau ir pamaA?iau jaunAi?? kinAi??, neatsargiai vairavusiAi?? dviratA?. Nesuvokiau, kaip galima vairuoti dviratA? ir ausinuku klausytis muzikos. VaA?iuoti gatve ir ignoruoti tave lenkianA?ias transporto priemones, kurias vairuoja daugiau nei pusantro A?imto tautybiA? pilieA?iai? Tai kaA?kas panaA?aus A? A?izoidinA? individo pasitraukimAi?? iA? socialiniA? ryA?iA?, iA? miesto vektorikos. GalA? gale kaip autistinA? grA?A?imAi?? A? personalizuotA? potyriA? interjerAi??, uA?pildantA? asmeninAi?? ai??zKitos dienosai??? scenografijAi??.

Toks jausmas, kad A?is nuotykis nebuvo atsitiktinis. Labiau sietinas ne su spontaniA?ku individualizmo proverA?iu urbanizuotoje aplinkoje, bet su sisteminiais trikdA?iais kolektyvinio kAi??no elgsenoje ir psichomotorikoje. ai??zSuardyta diskurso tvarkaai???,Ai??ai??i?? tada pamaniau. Bet aA? buvau ne pirmas, kuriam A?i keistenybAi?? sukAi??lAi?? pagrA?stAi?? A?tarimAi??. Viename A?iuolaikinAi??s rinkodaros vadovAi??lyje du A?vedA? autoriai tvirtino, kad poindustrinis amA?ius yra tarpsisteminiA? trikdymA? epocha. Ai??A? empirinA? teiginA? jie pagrindAi?? A?tai kuo. KartAi??, lankydamiesi naktiniame bare, A?vairiaspalvAi??s dancefloor publikos masAi??je jie pastebAi??jo merginAi?? (tikiuosi, tai buvo kita mergina) su ausinuku, ramiausiai besiklausanA?iAi?? savo muzikos. Ai??iAi?? patirtA? vAi??liau jie pritaikAi?? kurdami naujos kartos rinkodaros koncepcijAi??, labai panaA?iAi?? A? tAi??, kuriAi?? aptikau Davido Roberto Joneso albume. Gal tai skamba ironiA?kai, taA?iau mAi??sA? amA?iaus ypatingumAi?? galima paaiA?kinti iA?augusiomis galimybAi??mis. BAi??tent taip pasakAi?? vienas iA? ai??zmeno streikoai??? dalyviA?Ai??ai??i?? ai??zA? gerbiamo korifAi??jaus parodAi?? gali atsineA?ti savo paveikslAi??, ir niekas to nepastebAi??sai???. Tada pamaniau, kodAi??l mylimo literatAi??ros klasiko skaitymuose neperskaiA?ius savo opuso? O taip, jAi??s pritarsite, A?i galimybAi?? puikiausiai jau iA?naudota: naujAi??jA? ai??zLietuvosai??? kino teatro panneau Vilniaus sienA? brangintojai pavertAi?? paA?iu tikriausiu kovos uA? bAi??vA? lauku.

TaA?iau grA?A?kime A? NiujorkAi??. Keliaudamas iA? vieno taA?ko A? kitAi??, buvau pasiA?ovAi??s iA?tirti garsinius A?io miesto aspektus. BAi??tent tada supratau, kad to negalAi??siu padaryti. Nes su garsu kur kas sudAi??tingiau. Jo partitAi??ros uA?kloja viena kitAi??, susilieja. Jos koreliuoja su tyla, pirminiu garso A?altiniu, kuris nAi??ra garsas. Ekspozicijos greitkelyje dviratininkas ignoruoja technologiA?kai paA?angesniA? A?monijos rezultatA? egzistavimAi??, o auraliniame kraA?tovaizdyje atsidAi??rAi??s subjektas visAi?? garsinAi?? patirtA? paprasA?iausiai yra priverstas paversti kryptingo judAi??jimo A? kokA? nors tikslAi?? priemone. Kitokiu atveju jam gresia apkurtimas ir garantuotas paA?alinimas iA? diskurso.

#6

Dabar galima pasvarstyti apie paskutinAi?? galimybAi??: paversti savo kovAi?? tekstu. TekstasAi??ai??i?? hermetiA?kiausia patirties forma, kurioje daug kintamA?jA?. Viena iA? problemA?Ai??ai??i?? kalba. Gali stipriausiais A?odA?iais koneveikti (arba meilinti) tolimos A?alies pilietA?, taA?iau jam bus nAi?? motais (labai tikAi??tina). Tiesa, patartina to nedaryti Prahoje, ant Karlo tilto. KartAi?? NaujA?jA? metA? proga vienas biA?iulis neapdairiai iA?sitarAi??: ai??zLietuvaAi??ai??i?? lietuviams.ai??? DidA?ioji A?moniA? dalis A? tai neatkreipAi?? dAi??mesio, iA?skyrus vienAi??, kuris biA?iulA? pataisAi??: ai??zIrAi??Praha.ai???

Kita problemaAi??ai??i?? A?monAi??s. Ai?? tuos paA?ius A?odA?ius jie gali sudAi??ti paA?ias A?vairiausias prasmes. O kur dar reikA?mAi??s, poprasmiai, konotacijos. TodAi??l kovoti tekstu galima tik itin kruopA?A?iai parengtoje teritorijoje: laikraA?tyje, knygoje, auditorijoje. Koridoriuje, laiptinAi??je ir perAi??joje geriau to nedaryti. Tai, be abejo, negalioja poezijai. Ja galima kovoti su visais, o ir bAi??tina: nekalbant atrofuojasi vokabuliarinis aparatas ir smegenys. Ai??tai kodAi??l bAi??tina perraA?yti Kudirkos ai??zTautiA?kAi?? giesmAi??ai???, remiksuoti MaironA?, NAi??rA? ir PutinAi?? (labai jau kartus tA? uogA? raudonis paskutinA? deA?imtmetA?), o valstybiniA? apdovanojimA? metu deklamuoti MorkAi??nAi??.

Atskira kovos temaAi??ai??i?? tekstai, iA?kalti akmenyje, iA?lieti bronzoje ir varyje. PraAi??jus galiojimo laikui, A?ie postamentai (nuo A?odA?io ai??zpostAi??misai????) keiA?iami, kaip keiA?iamos ir jA? potekstAi??s (veja ir plytelAi??s, arba kitaipAi??ai??i?? anturaA?as). Ai??ie tekstai susijAi?? su miestA? vieA?osiomis erdvAi??mis ir yra ypatingi. Jie neuA?ima daug vietos. TaA?iau itin sunkiai trinasi ir atlaiko dideliausias pervartas. Gal todAi??l A?monAi??s mano, kad A?odA?iai svarbAi??s jA? dabarA?iai, nes sieja juos su netolimais ir visai neA?inomais protAi??viais, galimai susijusiais su A?iomis vietomis. TaA?iau A?iai tiesai pagrA?sti paprastai stokojama patikimA? A?altiniA?, o ir daiktiniA? A?rodymA? menka. TodAi??l A?ias bAi??ties ir bAi??vio tuA?tumas A?monAi??s uA?pildo kova burnos ertme ir per pastarAi??jA? A?imtAi??metA? iA?lavAi??jusiais rieA?akauliais. Tai jie yra tikrieji A?odA?iA? autoriai. A?odA?iA?, sulipanA?iA? A? naracijas; susispaudA?ianA?iA? A? istorijas; sukietAi??janA?iA? A? per laikAi?? tA?stanA?ius mitus; A? mitus, kuriA? niekur nerasite. Kad ir kaip giliai kasite.

#7

O dabar stabtelAi??kime paskutinAi??je kovos uA? bAi??vA? ekspozicijos stotelAi??je. Ne, jAi??s nesuklydote. Jokios stotelAi??s nAi??ra. JAi??s esate stotelAi??, laikas, maA?ina, mechaniA?kai A?traukianti rudenAi??jantA? orAi??. Kalvarija yra galvoje, pusrutuliais cirkuliuojanA?ioje energijoje, priimanA?ioje aplinkos dirgiklius, reaguojanti A? juos arba atmetanti. Toks trumpas A?is sustojimas, kad net nespAi??ji suvokti, ar jis buvo, ar dar tik bus. Tiesa, akiA? dugne jauti neA?inomo vaizdinio nuosAi??das, dirginanA?ias tavo miego arterijas. Skauda ausis ir perA?i gerklAi??. Pamanai, anokia A?ia kova, paprasA?iausias gripas.

Battle for Bowie[5]

by Tomas S. Butkus

#1

Art is an eternal battle, mostly likely, no different from any other human occupation on this planet.

A source of enjoyment, yet also disgusting and repulsive, tedious, but can excite our imagination and inspire to scramble for some craziest ideas. Academics, craftsmen, freshmen and professionals, they all know what it is all about. The figures looming at a greater distance are indifferent to this pronouncement. Through their model postures they tell us, it is no battle at all. It is because battling is only for madmen. Men. Or sick people who strife at settling their relations with this world, lest it forces them to jump from the hot air balloon or to gunfire all the scouts on the island convened for an autumn festival. But ai???battleai??i?? is a word like this. If it had not been for infidels and the other-minded who destroyed each other on grounds of territory, language or class, the word would have meant very simple things. Such like the month of March. The time when the life-imprisoning shell starts splintering. When there is an intrinsic need to overcome the force of gravity, to resist the gravitation of dreams and to return to this world.

It was about the battle of this kind I ruminated unable to wait for spring to come. With a sight on the bestiary of reality, I was gathering shrapnel of words, ter(m)minotaurs. Shapes created and born some time ago were fighting in the firmament of my head, without seemingly belonging to any relative experience or a state definable in any more or less concrete terms. But the quality of concreteness belongs only to the flux of physical environment at a given moment, such like a swimming pool ledge, a street corner with a rusted plate showing a diagram of city utilities. A human being, a glance, a phone call from the public prosecutorai??i??s office may strike as having a degree of concreteness. But the next day all these signs of the yester life will be gone.

Ai??The memory, true, will be holding these shapes and attempting at reviving their contours in its matrix, but it will be only a quagmire bubbling with disparate images, sounds and words carried in from the outside.

#2

One of the objectives of the battle is conquering new territories. In the Next Day serial the magician of visualization David Robert Jones creates a parody of a dream. The 66-year old singer presents his new album on a video clip while posing to 1.5 million-virtual-audience. We must admit that for a megastar[6] it is not awful lot. The not-yet-completely dead actor returns to the stage to play a role of seemingly greatest popularity in the history of humanity. He succeeds in proving that a music clip remains most compelling form of media art marrying image, sound and text. Besides, there is an ideological undercurrent installed into this devise, which may turn into a tracer power bullet. This can be illustrated by a recent attempt to re-enact the Jesus Christ performance on the Lithuanian theatre stage by spitting on the image of the Crucified, which must have been just a simple text. To me, this revived the memories of UK citizens ai???wateringai??i?? the corner of the Lithuanian Presidential Office. Then I decided that a public masturbation act is the only thing missing on the score of complete visualizing. If I were in the battle for Bowie, I would pursue this theme. The event must be a spectacle. The show should involve technological and social engineering capable of exploding the deepest foundations of image making and narration stone-locked in collective consciousness. The opening spectacle of the Millennium, or the mention of the name of Lithuania in historical annals, nearly proved a liberating experienceAi??ai??i?? liberating from history, culture, society. The figure of drunken Gediminas was rocked, in a macabre way, by the sea of people, like a shadow of a mutated centaur, like a hollow, creeping along the burning naves of the Cathedral, past the leaning bell tower, eastwards, towards the Orthodox Church. It was like the most real embodiment of the dream, witnessing that the journey of the last pagans on the highway of history, and at the same time, along the Stations of the Cross of modernity, is still going on.

#3

There are sound reasons to accuse Americans for allegedly having usurped the best props of the world. These were my thoughts after a four-hour marathon across the rooms of the Metropolitan. What I saw there were the interiors redolent with refined parlour luxury stuffed with the best art of all times, rooms abounding in the most expensive in the history of art collections from the repertoire of Persian, Chinese, Benin indigenous peoples. Then I recalled the beginning of this journey: the altar of the burning signs of Lithuanianhood created according to the best heathen traditions. Yet the overall solid impression of the collections was upset by the aesthetics of ennui seeping from the surfaces of renoires, el grecos and pissaros. They hung high on walls framed in the mine-fields of alarm system, like a beautiful girl who sits on a bench in a park (her bold-head alarm system lurking in a Chevrolet parked nearby). The entire expedition ended up in the most impressive collection of the living art of Irian Jaya Indiansai??i?? canoe from Papua province in Indonesia. It was the object worth the sweetest madness, the shape of the biggest sin and the strongest art affect in my life. The six-meter long boats carved by the entire male tribe during their entire life, with fetishes rising on the keel, were arranged in the exhibition hall seemingly in defiance of the very fact of the Met and millions of its exhibits, as a testimony to the triviality of being here and now, drifting along the river of history back to the Deluge.

#4

Autumnal rites bore semblance to an expedition to childhood, the travelling down the halls of a museum, visiting awkward elderly women in the bow-windows of semi-deserted rooms, squirreled away into their working hours, watching, out of the corner of the eye, your ignorance. These rooms were dedicated to the sole exhibit of that country locked away in a glass coffin of the Exhibition Palace, which immediately turned into dust under an inquisitive glance of a visitor. It was not the same view, however, which I saw in many years in a different point of the globe, but the very fact of observation, established by the realization that you were separated from this work of art by a light-year. Yet, it was the same setting assembled from other materials and filled up with articles that I had already seen. Above all I was baffled by the fact that these glass coffins contained the same dust collected, over a long visiting season, by the most loyal visitors. It was then that I realized, or rather, I was fully convinced that I was not a visitor to the exhibitionAi??ai??i?? neither its author, nor supervisor. I felt like a curator of an exhibition of life events that had never taken place, observing this world from an absolute underground paradigm and unsanctioned stream-of-consciousness position of a collective self.

#5

Battle is also the shortest moment. When the field of inner visions disintegrated, I entered the corridor of the exhibition and reached the crossing across the landing. I had a full right to expect that these elements of transit situations were going to mark the perimeter of my battle field. I was wrong, however. When in the thick outside of the town, I started orienting myself according the strongest source of light. The architecture of the moment was stuffed with a thick background soundAi??ai??i?? squeaking cars, jarring drum of metro trains reaching out from the underground extending all over the city. There were street peddlers yelling nearby. Suddenly I heard a sound of a two-wheel means of transport bump into a street pole. I opened my eyes and saw a young Chinese girl riding a bicycle precariously. How could one ride a bicycle and listen to music on a walkie-talkie, I could not comprehend. Ride along the street ignoring the overtaking vehicles driven by drivers of over a hundred and half nationalities? It looks like a schizoid withdrawal from social ties, from the vectored space of the town. Finally, like an autistic return to the interior of personalized experiences, filling up oneai??i??s personal setting of the Next Day. I had the feeling that the adventure was no accident. It should be related rather with the systemic interferences in the behaviour and psychomotor patterns then a spontaneous manifestation of individualism in an urbanized environment. ai???A disturbed order of discourseai???, it occurred to me then. I was not the first to become suspicious of this oddity. Two Swedish authors of a contemporary manual on marketing claimed that the post-industrial age was an epoch of inter-system interferences. This is how they based this empirical statement. Once in a nightclub, amidst the mottled dancefloor they spotted a girl (I hope she was a girl) with a walkie-talkie, listening, nonchalantly, to her own music. They subsequently adopted this experience to the creation of a marketing concept of a new generation, very similar to the one I found in the David Jones serial. This might sound ironical, but the uniqueness of our age can be accounted for by the expanded opportunities. This is exactly how it is put by one of the members of the ai???art strikeai??i??: you can bring your own painting to the exhibition of an acclaimed celebrity, and nobody is going to notice that. Then what keeps me from reading my own opus into the book of the favourite classical authors? Yes, this avenue has already been explored; you are going to agree with me: the lovers of Vilnius walls have transformed the new panneau of Lietuva Cinema Theatre into a real existential battle-field.

But letai???s return to New York for a short while. Travelling from one point to the next, I was determined to investigate the audio aspects of the town. But it was then when I realized I was not going to do that. It is because sounds make this too complex. The individual scores get superimposed and blended together. They correlate with silence, the original source of all sound, which is not sound. If a bicyclist on a highway of an exhibition ignores the existence of technologically more advanced results of human activity, an individual surrounded by an aural landscape simply must transform oneai???s entire audible experience into a means of a purposeful movement towards some objective or risk hearing loss and positive elimination from a discourse.

#6

We can now consider the last opportunity of turning our battle into text. Text is the most hermetic form of experience with multiple variables. One of the problems emerging is language. You can use some strongest words to blame (or praise) a citizen from a far-away country leaving him totally indifferent (highly likely). It is not an advisable practice in Prague though, on Charles Bridge. Once, on the occasion of the New Year, one fellow had imprudently dropped ai???LithuaniaAi??ai??i?? for Lithuaniansai??i??. Most people paid no adequate attention except one, who corrected my buddy, by adding ai???as well as Pragueai???.

Another problem is posed by people. They can put totally different meanings into the same words. And there still are significances, implications and connotations.

Therefore one can use text as weapon only in a carefully prepared territory: a newspaper, a book or an auditorium. It is better not to do it in a corridor, on the landing and at the crossroad. It does not apply to poetry, of course. You can employ poetry to fight everyone, and it is even advisable, without talking, vocabulary apparatus and brain get degenerated. That is why it is necessary to re-write the National Anthem by Kudirka, to remix Maironis, NAi??ris and Putinas (the redness of these berries has been too bitter this past decade)[7] and to recite MorkAi??nas[8] during ceremonies of state awards.

Texts chiselled in stone, cast in bronze and copper are a separate theme of battling. When past their shelf- life, these pedestals are replaced, replaced are also their implications (lawn and tiles, or retinue). These texts are related with the public spaces of towns and therefore, special. They do not occupy too much space. But they are resistant to wear and can stand major transformations. This may be the reason for people to think that words are important for their present, because they relate them with recent and totally unknown ancestors, probably connected to these places. But there are no reliable sources to substantiate this truth, while material evidence is too scanty. People therefore tend to fill in these empty cavities in their being and existence with the battle of their mouthai??i??s cavity and wrists well developed over the past century. They are the real authors of the words. Words that clot into narratives are pressed into stories, hardened into myths stretched over the period of time. These myths are nowhere to be found. No matter how deep you dig.

#7

Now let us stop at the last station in the exhibition of existential battle. No, you are wrong. There is no such station. You are the station, the time, the machine that inhales autumnal air mechanically. The Calvary is in your head, in the energy circulating between the hemispheres of the brain, which receives stimuli from the environment, either responding or rejecting them. A stop too short for you to realize whether it already happened or is going to. It is true that you can feel at the bottom of the eyes deposits of some mysterious image irritating your sleep arteries. You ears ache and you have a sore throat. You must be kidding me with this battle, you think, it is but a simple flu.


[1]Ai??Ai??Ai?? VizualiniA? industrijA? ekspertai siAi??lo tokiAi?? populiariosios muzikos atlikAi??jA? hierarchijAi??: A?vaigA?dAi??s, superA?vaigA?dAi??s, megaA?vaigA?dAi??s. LietuviA?ki A?vaigA?dAi??nai A?iam sAi??raA?ui nepriklauso.

[2]Ai??Ai??Ai?? JAi??zaus Kristaus.

[3]Ai??Ai??Ai?? JungtinAi??s KaralystAi??s.

[4]Ai??Ai??Ai?? NemaiA?yti su pisuarais. Nors vienas A?io tipo objektas (ai??zFontanasai???, 1917) suvaidino nemenkAi?? vaidmenA? VakarA? meno istorijoje. AutoriusAi??ai??i?? Marcelis Duchampai???as (1887ai??i??1968).

[5]Ai??Ai??Ai?? The phonetic form of ai???Bowieai??i?? affords for a pun in Lithuanian as it is homophonic with ai???bAi??visai??i?? Lithuanian for ai???existenceai??i??.

[6]Ai??Ai??Ai?? Experts of visual industries propose the following hieracy for pop music singers: stars, superstarts, and megastars. Lithuanian star boys and girls do not figure on the list.

[7]Ai??Ai??Ai?? Vincas Kudirka (1858ai??i??1899) is the author of National Anthem; Maironis (Jonas MaA?iulis, 1862ai??i??1932) is considered to be the grandfather of modern Lithuanian poetry; SalomAi??ja NAi??ris (1904ai??i??1945) is the best-known and controversial Lithuanian poet; Vincas Mykolaitis-Putinas (1893ai??i??1967) is the other giant poet from the Olympus of Lithuanian poetry. Putinas in Lithuanian is also a popular name for Viburnum opulus.

[8]Ai??Ai??Ai?? Pranas MorkAi??nas (1900ai??i??1941) is the first Lithuanian Dada poet.