Time Step
In this era of ecological consciousness, there's one endangered resource we hear little about. It is especially important to those of us who make our living in the arts. That resource is time.
Technology enables us to sample the wisdom of the whole world, and of the ages, in the calm of our own homes, but so far no one has managed to give us more than 24 hours a day in which to do it. Video renditions of live performances tend to feel "too long," and revivals or reconstructions of dances from 50 years ago strike us, now, as "too slow."
In this blog I plan to approach various artifacts of time-based art, from the emerging to the classic, from the wordless to the text-based. I'll consider whether these productions are "worth our time," given the plethora of offerings laid out for our pleasure at every hour.
Going to the theater, even going to church, used to be "occasions" for people, a chance to open themselves to stimulation and new ideas. When my former spouse lost his day job, a long time ago, I got into the reviewing business both to shore up our income and to guarantee a steady flow of free tickets to dance performances, plays, movies--the events that made living in a small Canadian city bearable.
Decades later I'm still in the business, as much out of habit as for any other reason. But the competition for my time--even though I've lost my day job, and now set my own schedule--has grown desperate. I outsource housekeeping and most cooking, but my daily 24 hours now need to include substantial time to exercise, read two newspapers, several magazines and much of the cream delivered by ArtsJournal, open and vet the e- and snail mail that clogs both my virtual and real mailboxes, meet the deadlines set by my various freelance clients, go to a show almost daily and sometimes two. I make time to see friends, usually by taking them to work with me and sharing a meal before or after. I keep up with an online community I joined in 1993; my compatriots there are like a cousins' club of cherished relatives I rarely have time to visit.
But. It has been weeks since I read a book. The piles of books I really want to read, for pleasure and edification, have grown to towering heights beside my bed.
Technology enables us to sample the wisdom of the whole world, and of the ages, in the calm of our own homes, but so far no one has managed to give us more than 24 hours a day in which to do it. Video renditions of live performances tend to feel "too long," and revivals or reconstructions of dances from 50 years ago strike us, now, as "too slow."
In this blog I plan to approach various artifacts of time-based art, from the emerging to the classic, from the wordless to the text-based. I'll consider whether these productions are "worth our time," given the plethora of offerings laid out for our pleasure at every hour.
Going to the theater, even going to church, used to be "occasions" for people, a chance to open themselves to stimulation and new ideas. When my former spouse lost his day job, a long time ago, I got into the reviewing business both to shore up our income and to guarantee a steady flow of free tickets to dance performances, plays, movies--the events that made living in a small Canadian city bearable.
Decades later I'm still in the business, as much out of habit as for any other reason. But the competition for my time--even though I've lost my day job, and now set my own schedule--has grown desperate. I outsource housekeeping and most cooking, but my daily 24 hours now need to include substantial time to exercise, read two newspapers, several magazines and much of the cream delivered by ArtsJournal, open and vet the e- and snail mail that clogs both my virtual and real mailboxes, meet the deadlines set by my various freelance clients, go to a show almost daily and sometimes two. I make time to see friends, usually by taking them to work with me and sharing a meal before or after. I keep up with an online community I joined in 1993; my compatriots there are like a cousins' club of cherished relatives I rarely have time to visit.
But. It has been weeks since I read a book. The piles of books I really want to read, for pleasure and edification, have grown to towering heights beside my bed.
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Terry Teachout on the arts in New York City
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Andrew Taylor on the business of arts & culture
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rock culture approximately
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Rebuilding Gulf Culture after Katrina
Rebuilding Gulf Culture after Katrina
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Douglas McLennan's blog
Flyover
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Art from the American Outback
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No genre is the new genre
No genre is the new genre
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John Rockwell on the arts
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Jan Herman - arts, media & culture with 'tude
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Apollinaire Scherr talks about dance
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Tobi Tobias on dance et al...
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Howard Mandel's freelance Urban Improvisation
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Focus on New Orleans. Jazz and Other Sounds
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Doug Ramsey on Jazz and other matters...
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Jeff Weinstein's Cultural Mixology
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Martha Bayles on Film...
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The Future of Classical Music?
Greg Sandow performs a book-in-progress
Greg Sandow performs a book-in-progress
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Exploring Orchestras w/ Henry Fogel
Exploring Orchestras w/ Henry Fogel
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Kyle Gann on music after the fact
Sandow
Greg Sandow on the future of Classical Music
Greg Sandow on the future of Classical Music
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Norman Lebrecht on Shifting Sound Worlds
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Jerome Weeks on Books
Jerome Weeks on Books
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Scott McLemee on books, ideas & trash-culture ephemera
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lies like truth
Chloe Veltman on how culture will save the world
Chloe Veltman on how culture will save the world
Stage Write
Elizabeth Zimmer on time-based art forms
Elizabeth Zimmer on time-based art forms
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Aesthetic Grounds
Public Art, Public Space
Public Art, Public Space
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John Perreault's art diary
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Lee Rosenbaum's Cultural Commentary
Lee Rosenbaum's Cultural Commentary
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Tyler Green's modern & contemporary art blog

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