Dada And Empty Media

(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com, Steve’s Tumblr, and Pillowfort.  Find out more at my newsletter, and all my social media at my linktr.ee)

Though i don’t discuss it as much here, I have an interest in the art movement of Surrealism and its origins. Surrealism is fascinating in its many manifestations, it intersects with politics and culture movements, and the many personalities and people are compelling. As I continue to learn about it, I keep finding new lessons, one of which I want to share here.

Surrealism’s origins are rooted in Dada, an art movement that appeared post World War I that was mistrustful of the supposed age of reason and the horrors of the time. Dada appeared to be art, in form of paintings or performances and such, but was intentionally nonsensical. Today it may seem amusing, but at the time people found it infuriating – imagine giving a speech made of nonsense words and angry folk rioting.

Dada laid the groundwork for Surrealism, something else I may discuss, but what fascinated me most about Dada beyond that was that it used the framework of existing media and filled it with nonsense. What an idea that the container of art can be abstracted from any meaningful content! Perhaps its easy to understand people angered by Dada, confronted with a play or a song or a painting that had the form of work but was filled with nothing

You can remove the art from art but still have a form we associate with art.

That idea has sat with me for some time since I had it, but I hadn’t done much with it – as my interests were in Surrealism and how the artistic framework was a vehicle for unconscious, almost spiritual expression. But lately I thought about Dada using a framework of art filled with nonsense and internet content and what we learn from it.

It’s hard to find anyone who won’t complain about nonsense, slop, propaganda, and low-effort content on the internet. I certainly do as any of my regular readers knows, and to my gratitude, tolerate. I’m sure you’re also used to encountering and complaining of such things.

We wonder how people can take such things seriously. How they can fall for propaganda or low-info listicles and the like? Well that’s because, beyond our vulnerabilities or ability to enjoy trash, it comes in the form of information. Internet dross has the shape of information or art or spiritual insight even if it’s filled with B.S.

No different than how Dada took the form of art and blew people’s minds by delivering rampant nonsense.

Think about how easily technology lets us have the form of something useful. It’s easy to spin up a website or a book or a video, pour anything into premade patterns, even go to technology or freelancers to pour something into whatever information container we chose. We have the tools to make nothing look like something, to make form so good we easily mistake it for solid value.

And, sometimes, it rubs us the wrong way. We know it looks like information but it’s not. Maybe it’s easier to understand people enraged over Dada, tricked by form. We’re in the Uncanny Valley of Communication just like they were.

This is why the history of art and media matter and why I treasure these rabbit holes I go down. The past has many lessons for the present. Come to think of it, maybe if we pay more attention to the past we’ll have a better present . . . one with not just form but form delivering real meaning and valuable information.

Steven Savage

Can You Imagine Starting?

(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com, Steve’s Tumblr, and Pillowfort.  Find out more at my newsletter, and all my social media at my linktr.ee)

I was going to do a post on media forms and what we can learn about today’s media from the Dada art movement, but Serdar had to go and get all brilliant and discuss how people can’t and shouldn’t wait for the right conditions to start something. It deserves it’s own blogpost, so me discussing art movements has to wait.

Serdar points out how people wait for the right conditions and how you can always find advice, from Doris Lessing to Buddhism that the time is never right, never perfect. The problem of course is helping people understand it’s time to get off their butts and do it. If you’ve ever tried to get someone – or yourself – “going” you know what I mean.

Now I work with Agile methodologies, as anyone who’s known me for five minutes is aware. Agile is about breaking work down, doing it in order of importance, and very importantly getting going. Just start and take feedback later – in fact doing something means you at least get feedback so you can do better (or even just quit). Agile isn’t “move fast, break things” it’s “move fast, make things.”

Thus as you can imagine I have to help people “get started” and “just get going.” Which should be easy as I have a lot of experience, a lot of certifications, and a very irritatingly effective attitude of “just do it.” Should be easy with a person like me, right?

Of course you know the answer is that it’s not, which irritates me at an irrational level. Sometime I “buddy up” with “just give it a try.” Sometimes I “Agile harder.” Sometimes I end up a therapist. But Serdar’s post made me realize in some cases what people lack is the ability to imagine starting. It’s easy to look at a big project or some ambitious idea and be so overwhelmed you can’t imagine starting – and in some cases it’s easier to imagine failing.

It’s easy to imagine not starting. I’ve realized as I mull offer Serdar’s writings that people like me are trained imagining how to start, other people have that imagination of how to start and we have to help others develop that capacity.

Of course easier said than done, and each person or group is an individual case. Maybe we have to inspire. Maybe we have to (in some cases literally) draw a picture. Maybe we encourage a prototype. Maybe we just “give it a shot.” But we need people to be able to see starting despite “imperfect” conditions.

Which means when we’re trying to help someone overcome a fear of imperfect conditions, our first job might be to help them see what’s possible. But the next job is helping them develop that imagination.

Steven Savage