The blog of author Dennis Cooper

Month: May 2024 (Page 10 of 14)

Bullet Holes

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Robert Longo Untitled (Bullet Hole in Window, January 7, 2015), 2015
Charcoal on mounted paper

 

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Mat Collishaw Bullet Hole, 1988
Bullet Hole depicts a horrific wound to the top of a human scalp, the hair of the recipient plastered to the sides to reveal the entry point. Collishaw appropriated the original photograph from a pathology textbook; despite the work’s name, the wound was in fact caused by an ice pick. He then enlarged the photograph, creating fifteen transparencies each mounted on its own lightbox.’

 

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Walt Creel Rabbit, 2011
‘Walt Creel creates original artwork with a deadly weapon. The Birmingham, Alabama-based artist uses a .22-caliber rifle to make pointilist portraits of southern wildlife onto 4×6-foot aluminum panels.’

 

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Christine Borland Shoes with .44 mm Hole, 1995
pair of leather women’s shoes, size 38, with bullet hole in right shoe

 

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Piers Secunda ISIS Bullet Hole Painting (Assyrian Horse), 2015
‘For ten years, British artist Piers Secunda has been capturing the violent manifestations of geopolitics using industrial floor paint. He described himself to me as merely “a guy who collects bullet damage,” however, the downplaying ends there. “I’m trying to make a forensic quality record, [it] has to be as accurate as possible,” Secunda, said, talking of the bullet holes he has accumulated and is now exhibiting. His process involves making molds of bullet holes and then placing their negatives into historical friezes.’

 

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Jani Leinonen ASSASSINATION OF NESQUIK BUNNY WITH COLT M1911 & M4, 2011
‘After Andy Warhol was shot he got out of the hospital and went back to his studio to find that one of his prints had also been pierced by the bullet. That would be the Warhol artwork I would most like to own. The bullet went first through his body and then through his art. It’s such a dramatic event in his life – real life brutally piercing art. I could hardly think of a more cataclysmic event and it had a huge impact on my art. This is where these works stemmed from. There’s also this idea of what happens to designer perfection after a violent event – it leaves marks.’ — Jani Leinonen

 

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Aura Satz Between the Bullet and the Hole, 2015
Between the Bullet and the Hole (11 mins) centres on the elusive and complex effects of war on women’s role in ballistic research and early computing. The film features new and archival high-speed bullet photography, schlieren and electric spark imagery, bullet sound wave imagery, forensic ballistic photography, slide rulers, punch cards, computer diagrams, and a soundtrack by Scanner.’

 

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Stan Winston Terminator 2 Bullet Effects, 1991
‘Remember Terminator 2? Guns were nearly useless against the murderous T-1000, played by Robert Patrick. Bullets fired at the “liquid metal” robot resulted only in a chrome-looking bullet splash that momentarily staggered the killing machine. The effects were done by Stan Winston, who died in 2008.

‘First of all, Winston and his team researched the correct “look” for the splash impacts by firing projectiles into mud and painstakingly working to duplicate the resulting shapes. These realistic-looking crater sculpts were then cast in some mixture of foam rubber, and given a chromed look by way of vacuum metallizing (also known as vacuum deposition) which is a way of depositing a thin layer of metal onto a surface. Vacuum deposition is similar to electroplating, but the process does not require the object being coated to have a conductive surface.

‘These foam rubber splash patterns — which look like metal but aren’t — were deployed using a simple mechanical system. A variety of splashes in different sizes get individually compressed into receptacles in a fiberglass chest plate. Covering each is a kind of trapdoor, each held closed by a single pin on a cable.

‘To trigger a bullet impact effect, a wireless remote control pulls a cable, which pulls its attached pin, and the compressed splash pattern blossoms forth in an instant, bursting through pre-scored fabric in the process.’

 

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Adrienne Salinger Girl With Bullet Hole, 1995
Ektacolor supra II photograph

 

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Lauren Fox The Thirteenth Hole, 2022
poster

 

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Lisa Oppenheim Killed Negatives: After Walker Evans, 2007
‘In ‘Killed Negatives, After Walker Evans’ (2007), Oppenheim uses Walker Evans’ unpublished photographs from 1938 found in the National Library of Congress. Evans was commissioned by the Farm Security Administration to document depression era rural America. These negatives are ‘killed’ because they had holes punched through them to prevent publication. Oppenheim printed them and conceptualises the holes as a space of potential contemporary interpretation.’

 

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Nate Lowman Pink Escalade, 2005
‘Nate Lowman’s bullet holes have gained a certain iconic status, due in no small part to their unusual ability to at once evoke the macabre and the kitsch aspects of American society as we know them. Lowman dares to reveal in his own words, our total fascination with death, violence, and sexuality—however glib the conversation may be. His categorical style of a trompe l’oeil silkscreen on shaped canvases drains its viewers of delight while somehow managing to invigorate a dark embrace of death.’

 

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Viktor Mitic Bullet Hole Justin Bieber, 2011
‘This painting has an incredible provenance, once stolen from his exhibition at Toronto’s International Film Festival in 2017, it was returned unharmed. This kidnapping of the “Justin Bieber” painting made headlines before the perpetrators turned themselves in to the Chief of Police in an elaborate exchange with the artist present to verify its authenticity.’

 

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William Christenberry Rusted Sign with Bullet Holes, Alabama, 1973
photograph

 

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Bill Caffrey Can a US combat helmet stop a bullet?, 1991
video

 

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Zhao Zhao Constellations, 2022
Embroidery on silk

 

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Corita Kent (Sister Mary Corita) you shoot at yourself, america, 1968
‘Printed text reads: You Shoot at Yourself, America: Freedom to Kill The color of the Statue of Liberty grows ever more deathly pale as, loving freedom with bullets you shoot at yourself, America. You can kill yourself this way! It is dangerous to go out into this hellish world, but it is still more dangerous to hide in the bushes. There is a smell on earth of a universal Dallas, it is frightful to live and this fright is shameful. Who is going to believe hippocritical fairy tales, when, behind a facade of noble ideas the price of revolver lubricant rises and the price of human life falls? Murderers attend funerals dressing in mourning, and later become stockholders, and once again, ears of grain filled with bullets wave in the fields of Texas. The eyes of murderers peer out alike from under hats and caps, the steps of murderers are heard at all doorways, and a second of the Kennedys falls… America, save your children! The children of other countries turn gray, and their huts bombed in the night, burn in your fire, just like your Bill of Rights. You promised to be the conscience of the world, but, at the brink of bottomless shame, you are shooting not at King, but at your own conscience. You are bombing Vietnam and with this your own honor. When a nation is going dangerously insane, it cannot be cured of its troubles by hastily prescribed calm. Perhaps the only help is shame. History cannot be cleansed in a laundry. There are no such washing machines blood can never be washed away! O where is it hiding, the shame of the nation, as if it were a runaway Negro? The slaves are within the slaves. There are many unfettered murderers. They carry out their mob justice, pogroms, and Raskolnikov wanders through America, insane, with a bloody ax. Hey, Old Abe what are people doing, understanding vilely only one truth: that the greatness of a tree can be assessed only after it is felled. Lincoln basks in his marble chair, wounded. They are shooting at him again! What beasts. The stars in your flag, America, are like bullet holes. Arise from the dead, bullet-pierced Statue of Liberty, murdered so many times and speak out like a woman and mother and curse the freedom to kill. But without wiping the splashes of blood from your forehead you, Statue of Liberty, have raised up your green, drowned woman’s face, appealing to the heavens against being trodden under foot.’

 

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Teresa Marolles Frontera, 2011
‘Teresa Marolles’ “Frontera” reflects on the dramatic scale of drug trafficking in Mexican society. The exhibition features walls where executions took place, that the artist took down in Mexico and rebuilt in Bolzano—Muro Baleado (Culiacán), 2009, and Muro Ciudad Juárez, 2010.’

 

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Banksy Bullet Hole Bust, 2006
Cast jesmonite with red paint, with accompanying plinth

 

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Andrew Douglas The Amityville Horror (2005)
movie

 

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Jasper Johns Flag (Moratorium), 1969
‘Jasper Johns’ 1969 “Flag (Moratorium)” is one of the most important symbols of the anti-Vietnam war movement. While the flag is the most important and recognizable emblem of America, Johns subverts the image’s inherent optimism through a series of unexpected details: the army green color of the stripe, the agent orange hue of the square, and the single white bullet hole in the center of the piece.’

 

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Lorna Simpson Polka Dot & Bullet Holes #2, 2016
India ink and screen print on Claybord

 

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Margaret Evangeline Sunday Morning II / White, 2015
Gunshot on stainless steel powder-coated

 

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Hindi News Firing After Clash Between Two Groups, 2023
video

 

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Jean-François Bouchard In Guns We Trust, 2019
‘The photographs of In Guns We Trust follow the artist’s pursuit into the Big Sandy Shooting Range, chronicling the material and physical activity of gun aficionados in a unique form of tourism.’

 

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Yoko Ono A Hole, 2010
‘It presents viewers with a pane of glass pierced by a bullet, with an instruction engraved on the glass, which reads: “GO TO THE OTHER SIDE OF THE GLASS AND SEE THROUGH THE HOLE”. Ono’s instruction encourages viewers to see from the perspective of both aggressor and victim, simultaneously engaging two opposing viewpoints.’

 

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Unknown A Penny That Stopped a Bullet and Saved a Life, 1899
‘Of the three Trickett brothers who left their home in Lincolnshire, in eastern England, to fight for the United Kingdom in the First World War, only John would survive. Horace and Billy were among the more than eight million soldiers killed in the Great War, which saw casualties on an unprecedented scale due to the advent of new, more advanced weapons. John, however, was saved by the most ordinary and rudimentary equipment on the entire battlefield: a penny in his breast pocket that deflected a bullet intended for his heart.’

 

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Dana Chandler Fred Hampton’s Door 2, 1975
‘The piece is crafted using a found door that’s been painted green and red, the colors of the Pan-African flag. Genuine bullet holes litter the façade, and a blue-and-white star stamp in the upper right-hand corner reads “U.S. Approved.” The work represents the police barrage into Hampton’s apartment in a very tangible way.’

 

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Etienne Chambaud Personne, 2008
lenticular print

 

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Maurizio Cattelan Night, 2021)
Stainless steel, black paint, bullet holes

 

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‘The contemporary art world was taken by storm Wednesday after a two day auction of the late actor Dennis Hopper’s bullet-holed Andy Warhol Mao painting sold at $302,500. Warhol’s Mao print stood out because it included bullet holes fired after Hopper mistook the portrait of the Communist leader for Mao himself one wild night in the 1970s, according to Christie’s. The actor, who died of cancer last year aged 74, later showed Warhol the bullet holes. Instead of reacting angrily, Warhol called the star a collaborator and took the liberty to label each bullet on the painting.’

 

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‘A Russian artist commissioned some dudes really good at shooting guns to decorate a BMW 3-Series with some bullet hole flowers. The car was marked with where they were supposed to shoot it, and as you can see from the pictures, they missed a lot.’

 

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Jared Amlin Hit System with Interfaces in Unity, 2023
‘I have no idea how other studios do their complex hit systems. I wanted to challenge myself to see what I could come up with, while trying to keep it scalable, and reusable.’

 

 

*

p.s. Hey. ** Nicholas(Nick), Hey. Charming day you had. I’ll go peruse your MuseMenaceTV updates. Cool. Seriously doubt I can get Sweet Loren’s cookies over here, but I’ll check or else put them on my next LA to-do list. Me, up to? Mostly setting up plans for today: movie w/ friend, dinner with another friend, trying to decipher a contract in French that I’m supposed to sign. Not a ton. Well, your comments made it through security today, so hopefully it’s sated, and hopefully it’s a sign. ** Charalampos, Hi, Nice listening. Oh, I have too many favorites on that LP to pick one, I think. Another thing I think I’ve never seen in Paris is a butterfly. This place is weird. It’s hard for me to take apart the Cycle because I think of it as one work, but, if I had subdivide it, maybe I would say ‘Guide’ is my favorite. As of today. Love from never dull Paris. ** Даrву 🦔, Those are some irresistibly cute noises. Cheers for the cheer. Whoa, awesome about you as an official student! That’s big, great news! Associate art degree sounds good and right. Oh, at the city college I took two poetry workshops and a filmmaking class and a drawing class and a history class, but I barely attended that class, and I don’t remember what the history was. Hello back to Frankie with a scrunch if he likes such things. I’m okay, no big whoop, just okay. Hope you slept like a rock or whatever they weirdly but interestingly say, xo. ** Jack Skelley, Hi, Flip. I guess it’s too late to change your name on your book cover to Flip Skelley. More’s the pity. Sounds wild enough, that event, and I want deets, tomorrow via Zoom if not before. Hug: will do. Oh, let me see what ‘PotA’ is if I see it as planned today, but I suspect it won’t have enough meat on its bones to warrant a worthwhile confab. Chris Lemmerhirt worked at Flip on Melrose. How about that? Yours, Pancho’s Tacos. ** _Black_Acrylic, It’s not easy to come by anywhere, I fear, except, well, in France in French, I suspect. ** Dominik, Hi!!! If we managed to do that we would have Boulevards named after us at the very least. Um, the new producer is … we’re still figuring him out, but the problems continue to come largely from the original producer, who remains misery in human form. Ange had jet lag yesterday, so I think we’re going to see the Apes today. Ha ha, ‘go for a beer’: less magic words hath ne’er been spoke. Love recommending a good Japanese restaurant in the Marais that’s vegetarian-friendly, G. ** James Bennett, Hey. I personally think getting away from those ‘I speak for all’ oriented writers is a very healthy move. But the critical establishment would disagree. Yes, alert me when you’re coming or here, and let’s meet up. Excellent! Marinating is an important part of the process, right? God, I hope so. Care will be taken in return for your taking care. ** Brightpath, I am excited to watch that/those film(s). The charisma is starting to blast. I’m clearing the decks for it/them. If you get into watching Robebe-Grillet’s films, my favorites are ‘Successive Slidings of Pleasure’ and ‘Trans-Europ-Express’ for whatever that’s worth. Wow, it’s Friday already, have a great one! ** Misanthrope, I figured there must be some specific cause of your antipathy to ‘buddy’. Yeah, yeah, you’re right, there are large areas of agreement. I think I was just too long without a cigarette yesterday. But I just smoked a moment ago, and yes, you are entirely correct. ** Steve, Curious to see the new Cristal Moselle film, although the subject matter in ‘Wolfpack’ is so compelling it was hard to judge her directorial thing. I hope the neck manipulations are magical. I think they can be. ** Paul Rosheim, Hi, Paul. Welcome. I saw your comment a little earlier today and deleted that mis-captioned photo. Thanks a lot for the alert. I really appreciate it. ** Justin D, Hi. Tentatively July. It’s not cemented yet. Oh, god, scary about your early arriving heat. That gives me the shivers (we’re still chilly-ish here). I’m with you. Landscaping is an art, and if you can hire an artist, go for it. My friend Zac’s father is a gardener/landscaper, so I’ve learned about that profession/art. Unfortunately Zac’s dad is very expensive, so I won’t recommend him. How is the weekend looking from not so very afar? ** Harper, Yeah, I think up through ‘Muswell Hillbillies’ the Kinks are pretty impeccable, but then the drop off starts. When I was young I was super into Pink Floyd, but then ‘Dark Side of the Moon’ came out, which I thought was a total washout, and that was it for me. I too am wary of revisiting the post-Barrett, pre-DSOFM period. My vibe is that it won’t have staying power. ‘Face to Face’, too, yes. I think you’re right that The Jam is more Who-derived, but lyrically I think Davies was definitely on Weller’s mind too. Well, you probably know that here in France books are largely issued with plain white covers with nothing but the title and author. I really like that. I like that utter garbage and the highest of lit all look exactly the same from the outside. I can’t remember a US corporate publisher book cover that wasn’t just maybe graphically clever/ eye-catchy at best. And, yeah, I do prefer the kind of uglier, in many cases, arty cover from past decades. But now I’ve gotten sold on white, minimalist covers. ** Gumm, Hi. Tentatively July. It’s not totally locked down yet. I can’t really say anything about the book until the publisher announces it, but that should be soon. It’s a small book. If it was a record rather than a book, it would be an EP. Well, you have just clearly laid out why ‘dangerous’ is an appropriate term for this upcoming meeting/event, ha ha. I guess try to keep your head screwed on, as my mom used to say. The kind of thing you’re describing does tend to be more compelling in the imagination than it is once the obsessed over people are in-person, flesh and blood, but there’s no telling. Gosh, good luck. Excited and terrified is better than being bored, yes! Hang in there, pal. ** Jamie F, Hi. Gosh, thank you so much. Soon we’ll just be fellow writer chums, and that’ll be nice too. If your exes remind you of my narrators then you’ve been with some, ahem, interesting guys for sure. Glad you’re okay. Maybe the effect of my writing about gay sex and stuff is because I never think about the characters as being gay or that that means anything important. I never think about that about myself either. I don’t like generalisations. I’m suspicious of them. I’m just strange me. Yeah, when people are kind to me it just sort of confuses me and blows my mind in a nice way. I had a rough childhood, for sure. Awesome that you want to write novels. Speaking as someone who made that my life’s goal whence young. It’s cool you’re publishing on Medium, that’s a very read and popular site. That’s great, congrats to you and to them. I mean, you can send me that novella, of course. I’m curious, but it’s up to you. I know I’m really careful about what I share of my stuff, so I understand. You’re in Australia. I’ve only been to Melbourne and Tasmania. They seemed okay. If you do get over here, sure, let’s meet and hang. Just let me know what your plans are when you make them, and hopefully I’ll be here then. I’m really easy in person and not intimidating, I don’t think, so no worries, really. Thanks, Jamie. I’m happy you’re into being around here. Superb Friday to you if that’s possible on your end. ** Uday, Hi. Hm, interesting question. He’s a pretty good writer, though, so … but who knows? Long distance, yeah, that old problem. But he’s interested, so … Sadness is important. When you’re chipper again, hopefully by now, it’ll be a richer form of chipper, that’s my guess. Hope at least. I live about a ten minute walk from Stendhal’s former house. Now it’s a hotel. Hotel Stendhal. Two stars. ** Right. Here’s another post needing no introduction. See you tomorrow.

Spotlight on … René Crevel My Body and I (1926)

Without René Crevel we would have lost one of the most beautiful pillars of surrealism. — André Breton

Crevel actually wrote only a single sentence: the long sentence of a feverish monologue from the pen of a Proust who dipped his biscuit laced with LSD into his tea, instead of the unctuous madeleine. — Angelo Rinaldi, L’Express

He will be read more and more as the wind carries away the ashes of the ‘great names’ that preceded him. — Ezra Pound

‘If you look at the photograph of leading Surrealist artists and writers, taken in 1932 at Tristan Tzara’s, you will find René Crevel in the back row, and that is where he long remained. The others, including Andre Breton, Salvador Dali, and Paul Eluard, all seem to know what to do with their hands, whereas René Crevel is leaning forward, one hand placed for support on the shoulder of Max Ernst, the other on that of Man Ray. Born in 1900, the golden boy of the Surrealist movement, Crevel is perhaps remembered more for having killed himself than for his writings, though even in death he is surpassed by other suicides, by the revolver-brandishing Jacques Vaché, for instance, whose myth was sedulously fostered by Andre Breton. Why, then, has David Rattray chosen to publish now a translation of Crevel’s autobiographical novel, La Mort difficile, sixty years after its first appearance in 1926? The answer to that question may well have as much to do with a certain climate of opinion that has flourished since the Sixties as with Crevel’s undoubted talent as a writer.

‘It was in 1947 that Jean-Paul Sartre accused the Surrealists, who deeply influenced him, of being young men of good social position who were hostile to daddy. Crevel senior, however, hanged himself in 1914, and his young son was left under the domination of a mother he loathed and who is caricatured as the odious and pretentious Mme. Dumont-Dufour in La Mort difficile. Still, unlike many of the budding Surrealists in the Twenties, Crevel was indeed well-to-do and well connected. He was a great friend of the Vicomte Charles de Noailles and his wife Marie-Laure, who financed the notorious film, L’Âge d’or, by Luis Buñuel and Salvador Dali; and it was he who introduced the inventor of limp watches to one of the earliest of that artist’s princely patrons.

‘Crevel appears indubitably handsome in the portrait photograph by Man Ray, and in fine line drawings of the period. His looks were of a type that should have given him a role in one of Cocteau’s later films, had he survived and if Breton and Cocteau had not been at daggers drawn. One of Crevel’s friends, the Surrealists’ ally, André Thirion, remarked in his memoirs on the engaging personality and polished charm of the author of La Mort difficile. André Breton’s portrait of his associate is more somber: it stresses the disquiet and the complexity of the young man’s character.

‘In his books Crevel made no secret of his homosexuality or bisexuality. As for Breton, he wrote paeans to heterosexual love, and like most of the Surrealists he viewed homosexuality with disfavor, although the colleagues tolerated what they regarded as an aberration in their friend. It is plain from Crevel’s highly personal narrative, Mon Corps et moi (“My Body and Me”), that the young author felt deeply divided about his sexual proclivities. Moreover, he had long suffered from ill health: tuberculosis took him at frequent intervals to boredom in Swiss sanatoria, and his sickness was complicated by alcohol and drugs (opium, cocaine). The theme of suicide haunted him. In his very first book, Détours (1924), he imagined the scenario of death by gas that he was to follow eleven years later in 1935. With Man Corps et moi, he betrays his doubts about the reality of his own existence.

‘The great event of Crevel’s life was his meeting with André Breton in 1921: a strong, aggressive character under whose aegis the Surrealist enterprise often appears as a succession of insults, cuffs to celebrated heads, and expulsions. Crevel made an important contribution to the movement and yet he also figures as its victim. Having been initiated into spiritualism by an aristocratic English lady, he introduced Breton to “hypnotic sleep,” which played so large a role in the development of Surrealism and its use of automatic writing or image-making. In a deep sleep, Crevel declaimed, sang, yet apparently he had no memory of what had passed. These experiments led the young writer to try to hang himself, and Breton put an end to them. In the famous “Inquiry into Suicide,” conducted by La Révolution surréaliste, Crevel eloquently justified suicide as a solution to his dissatisfaction with his life.

‘The risks involved in Surrealist practices, such as the debate on suicide and the rehabilitation and simulation of madness, are obvious. The extravagant declarations of Breton—that “living and not-living are imaginary solutions,” or that the distinction between true and false, good and evil, is “absurd”—must have had a harmful effect on one like Crevel, whose hold on life was so precarious. The whole objective of Surrealism was to undermine reason and logic. Crevel could write a book paradoxically entitled L’Esprit contre la raison (“Mind against Reason”), but he valued highly his own critical intelligence and, having worked on a thesis on Diderot while at the Sorbonne, he never lost interest in the eighteenth century as the age of enlightenment.

‘Meanwhile, profoundly loyal to André Breton, he was among those who “gave proof of ABSOLUTE SURREALISM,” as Breton’s first Manifesto has it. Only too well known is Breton’s concept of absolute Surrealist revolt: to go down into the street with a revolver and to fire haphazardly into the crowd. Time and experience have not been kind to such irresponsible language, and too much real blood has been shed in the streets for Breton’s words to be regarded as mere ink. One difference between words and paint is that words have meaning and, however “poetic,” cannot be totally divorced from reason and logic. Perhaps that is why some Surrealist art tends to make a greater impact than a good deal of strictly Surrealist literature. Certainly, the confusion in Crevel’s mind between unreason and reason must have been acute.

‘A way out of the impasse appeared to be at hand for intellectuals in revolt: adherence to the Revolution and membership in the Communist Party. Crevel discovered Marx and dialectical materialism, and he began to quote chunks from Engels and Lenin in his writings. He was among those who wrote for the periodical Le Surréalisme au service de la Révolution, doubtless believing with Breton that to propagate the idea of revolution would hasten the advent of the great cataclysm. In 1927 the author of La Mort difficile joined the French Communist Party; he was expelled in 1933 and readmitted in 1934. None worked harder than he did to try to reconcile the mistrustful party hacks and the would-be revolutionary Surrealists or, as it was then put more grandly, “Communism and Culture.” His efforts to establish harmony during the preparations for the Communist-inspired First International Congress of Writers for the Defense of Culture in 1935 were thwarted by the exchange of insults and slaps between Ilya Ehrenburg and André Breton, which led to the author of the Surrealist Manifestos being denied permission to speak. This Congress proved to be one of the early successes of Stalinism in the international cultural sphere. There was in fact no way of reconciling such fundamentally opposing attitudes to free thought and free expression.

‘Crevel’s failure to secure agreement between Surrealists and Communists is thought to be one contributing cause of his suicide. Shortly before his death, the former Communist André Thirion had expounded privately—much to Crevel’s surprise—his own conviction that Stalin represented as much of a threat to culture as Hitler. When Crevel stayed with Dali at his home at Port-Lligat, the painter could not have been very helpful when employing his “paranoia-criticism” to provoke “the maximum number of hopeless antagonisms in every situation.” Meanwhile, Crevel was becoming more critical of Andre Breton, and was losing faith in Surrealism, as his letters to Tristan Tzara of 1934-35 reveal. An adverse medical report prompted the young novelist to write: “Please have my body cremated. Disgust,” and to take his own life.

‘There is a certain irony in prefacing Difficult Death with Dali’s memoir of 1954, as David Rattray has done. Crevel would have hated Dali’s support for General Franco: he himself was keenly opposed to fascism, having helped to create a committee of anti-fascist writers at the time when the French fascists almost overthrew the government in February 1934. It is equally ironic to find Ezra Pound’s essay on Crevel, with its laudatory reference to Mussolini and its refrain on usury, being used to preface a reprint of Crevel’s satirical novel, Les Pieds dans le plat (“Putting One’s Foot In It”). Crevel forcefully expressed his hatred of anti-Semitism and Hitler in that novel, and his detestation of Mussolini elsewhere.

‘With La Mort difficile, written in the year of his mother’s demise, Crevel probes the conflict within the mother-fixated Pierre. The protagonist is torn between his ambivalent regard for the self-sacrificing Diane and his passion for Arthur Bruggle, an equivocal American modeled on the painter Eugene MacCown, to whom the author was devoted. Dreamlike elements and a rather mannered insistence on repetition betray the work’s Surrealist connection. Black humor merges with self-pity. David Rattray’s translation is at times ingenious. However, Pierre’s mother admires slim legs as a token of breeding (signe de race), not of “race.” In her prejudiced vocabulary, “foreigner” is too anodyne a word for the pejorative métèque. A reference to the poet Lamartine, hero of the Second Republic, is eluded: Crevel liked to satirize the liberal “Lamartinian current,” otherwise graciously qualified as “the dustbins of liberalism.” To find an equivalent for the American’s amusingly painful misuse of French genders looks impossible. One realizes how skillful, witty, and idiosyncratic Crevel’s use of language can be. He had no small talent as a punster, satirist, and polemicist.

‘After the événements of May 1968 there was a revival of Crevel’s work in France in the Seventies, when several of his books were reprinted. One admirer went so far as to declare: “The explosion of May [1968] places the figure of Crevel, that dark archangel, in the forefront of those who refuse to live divided against themselves.” A curious observation, surely, since in Crevel’s case that refusal meant self-immolation. The rebellious author of Babylone could serve as model for a new generation of rebels. He, too, was opposed to religion, family, country (in whose name so many had perished in the 1914-18 War), and all existing institutions.

‘High among his pet hates were liberal parliamentary democracy, capitalism, colonialism, and imperialism. His terminology sometimes recalls that of fashionable theorists of the Sixties and after. When he excoriates the privileged swine (salauds) or invokes “oceans of wrath” to drown the bourgeoisie and all its works, he sounds like a precursor of Sartre and his heirs. Crevel’s heady combination of revolt, homosexuality, and drug-taking doubtless remains in vogue in certain circles even today.’ — Renee Winegarten

 

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Gallery

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Portrait of René Crevel, by Dora Maar

Four Surrealists
Andre Breton (l) talks with Rene Crevel (second from right), while Salvador Dali (second from left) and Paul Eluard (r) look on.

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by Man Ray

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Tristan Tzara and René Crevel, 1928

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by Gertrude Stein

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Front row: Tristan Tzara, Andre Breton, Salvador Dali, Max Ernst, Man Ray. Back row: Paul Eluard, Hans Arp, Yves Tanguy, Rene Crevel, 1933.

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by unknown

René Crevel et Marie-Laure de Noailles, c1930
René Crevel et Marie-Laure de Noailles, Paris, ca 1930

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Yves Tanguy and René Crevel

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by Christian Bérard

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Jacqueline Chaumont (Mouth) and Rene Crevel (Eye) in dadaist play ‘Coeur

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by unknown

 

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Further

Rene Crevel @ goodreads
René Crevel, dandy révolutionnaire
‘ALL ABOARD FOR RATAPOILOPOLIS’
Lettre de René Crevel à Gertrude Stein
Elle ne suffit pas l’éloquence, René Crevel
RENÉ CREVEL AU SOMMET DE SA MONTAGNE MAGIQUE
Book: ‘A Fantasia on Voice, History and Rene Crevel’, by Peter Dubé
RC’s ‘Babylon’ @ 50 Watts
“Si je ne réussis rien, je me tuerai”: René Crevel inédit
‘Notes en vue d’une psycho-dialectique’, by Rene Crevel
‘Freud de l’Alchimiste à l’Hygiéniste’, by Rene Crevel
Des nouvelles de Crevel
René Crevel: un po’ angelo, un po’ boxeur
René Crevel: Las hermanas Brontë hijas del viento
René Crevel, risposta all’inchiesta sul suicidio e frammento da “Il clavicembalo di Diderot”
Rene Crevel’s grave
Buy ‘My Body and I’

 

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Extras


trailer for LA MORT DIFFICILE starring Brandon Slagle. From the book by RENE CREVEL


Cafe life in Paris, 1927 w/ Pola Negri, Man Ray, Eugene McCown, René Crevel, a.o.


René Crevel – L’Esprit contre la raison / Écrits sur l’art – Artracaille 02-10-2012

 

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Is Suicide a Solution?
by Rene Crevel

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A solution? Yes.

People say one commit suicide out of love, fear, or venereal disease. Not so. Everyone is in love, or thinks they are. Everyone is frightened. Everyone is more or less syphilitic. Suicide is a means of conscious choice. Those who commit it are person unwilling to throw in the towel like almost everyone else and repress a certain psychic feeling of such intensity that everything tells you had better believe it is a truthful and immediate sense of reality. This sense is the one thing that allows a person to embrace a solution that is obviously the fairest and most definitive of them all, the solution of suicide.

There is no love of hate about which one can say that it is clearly justified and definitive. But the respect (which in spite of myself and not withstanding a tyrannical moral and religious upbringing) I have to have for anyone who did not timorously withhold or restrain that impulse, that mortal impulse, leads me to envy a bit more each day those persons who were hurting so intensely that a continuing acceptance of life’s little games became something they could no longer stomach. Human accomplishment is not worth its weight in horse mucus. When personal happiness leads to even a modicum of contentment, this is more often than not a negative things like a sedative against me. The death that tempted me several times was lovelier by far than this downright prosaic fear of death that i might also quite properly call a habit the habit of timidity. I wanted to open a certain door, and I got cold feet. I feel I was wrong not to open it. I not only feel, I believe, I want to feel, I want to believe it was a mistake not to, for asI have found no solution in life, notwithstanding a long and diligent search, I am not about to attempt to pull myself together to give life another try unsolaced by the thought of this definitive and ultimate act in which I feel that I have caught a glimpse at least of the solution.

 

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Carpets

‘René Crevel, a youth amongst his artistic peers, was a handsome, tragic figure full of passion, creativity and nostalgia. Crevel exercised his diverse skills when he collaborated with Paul Follot to design modernist tapestries for the 1925 Exposition des Arts Décoratifs et Industriels Moderne in Paris. Tragically, Crevel took his own life just before his 35th birthday, and left behind only a small number of masterworks in the disciplines of tapestry design and the literary arts.’ — collaged

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Vintage Moroccan Rug

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Book

mybodyandi René Crevel My Body and I
Archipelago Books

‘In My Body and I (Mon Corps et Moi, 1925), René Crevel attempts to trace with words the geography of a being. Exploring the tension between body and spirit, Crevel’s meditation is a vivid personal journey through illusion and disillusion, secret desire, memory, the possibility and impossibility of life, sensuality and sexuality, poetry, truth, and the wilderness of the imagination. The narrator’s Romantic mind moves from evocative tales to frank confessions, making the reader a confidant to this great soul trapped in an awkward-fitting body. A Surrealist Proust.’ — Archipelago Books

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Excerpt

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p.s. RIP Steve Albini. What a big shock. ** Dominik, Hi!!! This is your big chance to show Vienna why it’s insane that its citizens don’t bathe themselves in the glory of Halloween every year. You could change lives and life itself for the better. Of course I should do the same thing with Paris, but, like you, I would imagine, I have no idea how. We did talk to the producers, and, as usual, we got about 1/100th of the information and satisfaction the we sought. It’s a start? (It’s always just a start with them). The mouse is now making its new home wherever that is after accidentally wandering into our humane trap yesterday. But I’m positive that some chum of his or hers or theirs will be poking its head out of somewhere any minute now. Love convincing my friend Ange to go see the new ‘Planet of the Apes’ with me today, G. ** Jamie F, Hi, Jamie! Lovely to meet you, and thank you breaking the blog’s ice. Gosh, thank you so much for the very kind words about my work. That’s so cool. I’m especially happy you singled out ‘The Marbled Swarm’ because that’s my favorite of mine. Naivete is kind of beautiful, but if you’re glad yours is in your past, then I’m happy to have assisted you. Defence mechanisms, that’s actually a pretty good guess, I think. Huh. Can you say anything more about your writing and your aspirations as a writer? I’d be interested to know. It’s great to get to know and make friends with fellow writers. And, yes, it’d be nice to meet. Where do you live? Is Paris on your agenda per chance? Anyway, thank you again, Jamie. It’s a real pleasure to get to talk with you. ** GrabBag and Greeny? Why?! :/., Hi. Finishing is the best. We’re so, so, so close to finishing the film and being prevented from finishing it by powers beyond our control, and it’s driving us nuts, but we have to patient, I guess. The short fiction book will come out in, I think, July. Oh, I meant dangerously promising because of what your description of him seemed to portend. I guess it could be argued that every kiss is an experiment? ** _Black_Acrylic, Happy you dug what you saw of hers. I did read that about the Ballard inspiration, which seemed very surprising. Yes, RIP Albini. Really didn’t anticipate that. ** Jack Skelley, Hi. Oh, my little book is called ‘Flunker’, so you were sort of vaguely close. I think I’ll finally get my paws on Bob’s physical book tomorrow amidst dinner with Ms. Tarasoff herself. Obviously, now you have to explain to me what a ‘group-grope reading/travesty’ is or was. Flip is a good nickname for you. I’m going to start calling you that. Yours truly, Red Skelton. ** Misanthrope, Gosh, see, I like it when dads call their sons ‘buddy’. I’m touched by the manners in which heterosexual males express affection to each other. I find it tender in a rich and indefinable way. How did your presentation go? Did they say, ‘Thanks, buddy’ afterwards? There are the curious non-diverging tastes, it’s true. Like … I can’t think of any, ha ha, but I remember us having ‘high five’ moments over certain things. ** Steve, Thanks for the link. I’ll hope to use it. Everyone, Tip from Steve: ‘The Prismatic Ground festival is streaming shorts online here. They can be viewed anywhere in the world.’ How was ‘Chime’? I finally watched that documentary ‘The Wolf Pack’ last night. Such a fascinating situation and lovely group of kids. ** James Bennett, Hi. I’ve never liked Whitman. I can’t stand his stuff honestly. He just seems like a blowhard to me, or rather his thing is really not mine. I will extremely skip that immense Sartre book, Jesus. How strange of him. Yeah, Paris, for all of its size, really feels like a small town, at least when you live here. In a way that I love after spending most of my life in gigantic LA where walking is a compartmentalised activity by default. Anyway, cool you’re coming over. Hit me up for a coffee or a communal stroll if you like. I have ‘Fuccboi’ on my hunt list. Thanks again. I hope all is progressive with your writing and everything else too. ** Bill, Nice stuff, her stuff. Cool about the latest ritual. The only French ritual I know of is everyone leaving for the countryside at the lightest drop of the smallest hat. Yes, RIP Albini. Really sucks, still so young, fuck. ** Harper, Hi. The French are seriously into futbol too, and they can get pretty loud about it, but they don’t get angry and self-hating and explosive when their team loses, at least that I’ve been able to detect. When they lost the World Cup a couple of years ago, 3/4 of a million people gathered just down the street from me in Concorde to chant and wave hands and show their love for their losing team. Which was odd in its own way as well. I think ‘best dialogue writer of all time’ is a monicker that she almost certainly deserves, yes. I’m so glad you like her. I go on Kinks jags too. ‘Village Green’ is my favorite as well. ‘Something Else’ is great. I even like, in a hit and miss way, a lot of the later ‘Preservation’ -> ‘Schoolboys in Disgrace’ era songs. After that, I feel like the greatness kind of fully waned. But maybe you have late period tips? I kind of like the heavily Kinks-influenced Jam songs, even though they’re kind of stiff. Happy Thursday! ** Justin D, Hey, Justin. I hope it found a suitable home. I trust that its survival instincts and ingenuity re: spacial possibilities are strong. I like slow burn films, so I’ll put ‘La Chimera’ on the possible future agenda. Thanks. Loss gets to me too, so it should be good. Zac’s and my film has a ‘loss’-oriented ending that tears me up, at least. ** Brightpath, Okay, I’ll do #1 and then skip to #4 and then, if I’m still jonesing I’ll fill in the middle section. I don’t mind cheesy CGI. Well, depending. Good luck closing out the school term. Robbe-Grillet, nice! My fave is ‘Recollections of the Golden Triangle’, I think partly because I like the name so much for some reason. (Of course in the original French it probably has a completely different title). ** Uday, Knock on wood. Congrats on hitting the 50% mark on college. What does that mean, two more years or … ? I’m not a fan of Ginsberg’s stuff after ‘Howl’ and that early era, no. Ginsberg and I got along okay until one of his boyfriends dumped him for me, and then we didn’t get along after that. Well, I would think that giving him time to think would work in your favor, but, yeah, tightly crossed fingers. Has he decided yet? That’s a pretty off-putting ‘come on’ approach right there, yes. Yow. ** Right. Today’s post is devoted to the brilliant and doomed young French writer René Crevel. See you tomorrow.

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