Elements & Embodiment // 047
Hey there! Thanks for checking out my newsletter. In this issue, I’m trying out a different organization that I might keep moving forward.
- Reading room: Some excerpts from and links to what I’m reading across a whole lot of areas.
- Writing lab: A peak into what I’m currently writing on the scholarly side of things.
- Art gallery: Thoughts on the art that’s moving me.
- Listening station: Music, mixes, records I’m listening to, buying, or making.
These are the elements usually in play, so we’ll see how this feels for a bit.
As always, holler back my way with anything that’s catching your eye or moving your heart.
Reading Room
Forms
I’ve been down a few rabbit holes as I continue to read and write for an essay on theories of change in activist scholar formations outside universities. Here’s an anchor excerpt from a book called NOW by The Invisible Committee ( PDF here).
In reality, what we need are not institutions but forms. It so happens, in fact, that life, whether biological, singular or collective, is precisely a continual creation of forms. It suffices to perceive them, to accept allowing them to arise, to make a place for them and accompany their metamorphosis. A habit is a form. A thought is a form. A friendship is a form. A work is a form. A profession is a form. Everything that lives is only forms and interactions of forms.
I especially like that statement, “A friendship is a form.” It is. It’s a 1:1 networked form.
Boggs
I’ve also been reading some under-the-radar pieces related to Jimmy and Grace Lee Boggs, including:
“A Lifelong Search for Real Education,” where Detroit educator Julia Putnam reflects on how the Boggs shaped her ideas about education. This is a tender, moving piece because of excerpts like this, when Julia tells how it felt as a teenager to know that Jimmy was proud of her.
I was moved, touched that this man who knew nothing about me was proud of me. Had I been that starved for this kind of praise? I think so. My family praised me, but it was for things I was supposed to do—I was obedient, didn’t cause trouble, and my grades were fine. For that, my family was proud, appreciative. Jimmy was proud of me for going beyond that. He was proud because I cared about something other than myself. I’d never even thought to give myself credit for that. I was ready to put my time and energy toward a Detroit that I could be proud to live in.
Then there is “Another Education is Happening” from 2011 where Julia tells the story of how she was shaped as a teenager by Detroit Summer, the youth program organized by the Boggs. She drops this gem:
I had not even known that I craved being asked to do something important until I was actually asked.
I’ve been thinking about that sentence – and even its verb tenses – and texting it to people all week.
Writing Lab
My piece on theories of change in scholar activism has taken a turn toward scholar collectives that do their work mostly outside of universities. I’m calling them scholar activist formations in this essay, tying into all of the thinking on forms I’ve done in the past few years. Writing through the kinks in the essay, I’ve become more interested in why and how these formations operate outside of universities. I tried to signal that point at the end of the essay’s opening paragraph:
Ranging from advocacy to abolition, formations such as these are not centers or institutes constituted by universities or tethered to individual scholar’s professional trajectories. They exist largely outside of higher education institutions because, as products and extensions of ongoing settler colonialism, institutions on their own cannot bring about liberatory ends.
Art Gallery
Detroit techno DJ and producer Carl Craig has a sound installation Party/After-Party in the lower industrial level at Dia Beacon in NYC.
This new work reimagines Dia Beacon’s lower level, creating a sonic environment that is anchored to the site’s manufacturing history as a former Nabisco packaging factory and recalling a techno tradition of reclaiming industrial spaces for radical experimentation. Deeply personal, the work accesses both the euphoria of the club environment and the loneliness that follows this collective experience.
The loneliness of the installation happens in two different dimensions. First, the Party side of the installation is a 20-minute mix of techno sounds that rise and fall as the energy of a party would, but you have to experience it alone, or perhaps with a small group in the immense industrial underground space. I like this description from a review in the New York Times Review.
The basement is almost entirely empty right now, and in this dark vacuum lies one of the smartest and saddest exhibitions I’ve seen in a while — staged not by an artist, but a musician....For more than 20 minutes, Mr. Craig builds and layers four-on-the-floor explosions, deep-toned echoes and euphoric drops. You may want to dance, but no one is there to dance with you.
But the second part of the installation – After-Party – is also where the loneliness comes in. This part of the exhibit is not about where everybody goes to party after the party. It’s about what the DJ does after the party, which in Craig’s case, is deal with the high-pitched ear ringing of tinnitus that afflicts many DJs. Most of the reviews of the installation don’t seem to catch this, but Craig talks about it specifically in his interview on WDET.
And if you’re really down for the movement, here’s an hour long discussion on Detroit, post-industrialism, drum machines, and more from the installation’s opening.
Listening Station
Mixes I’m playing
Khruangbin Vibes Vol. 6 by Mol. I learned of the Australian three-member band Khruangbin because they are one of the few bands who now play in Dilla Time. Word is they have a new album coming out soon, but this mix will have to suffice for now. I also love their website.
New discoveries
Incredible head-nodding in the clouds soul from Goiânia, Brazil. It’s Corpo Possível by Bruna Mendez.
The group we don’t deserve is back with an album we didn’t know we needed. The group is SAULT. The album is NINE. And you should press play.
Re-Discoveries
I bought this sweet soul 45 off a friend this week. I’ve been looking for this rarity for longer than I should say. This is the kind of song that never leaves your heart once it gets in.