The kinetics of the DJ
Realtime scratch videos, where a VJ (video jockey) and a DJ (disk jockey) appear together, have got the dance floors swinging over the past ten years. In the commercial discos as well as the alternative artistic venues, and mainly driven in this by the retro- and emulation-trends.
The retro-trend is perhaps the most powerful artistic movement of the last few years. It is clearest and most striking in music thanks to the computer which is reproducing eighties' music nostalgia by using technological developments from the nineties. The latest technological developments were accompanied by a naive artistic longing that was often nostalgic retrospective by nature. Atari and Amiga nostalgia, a longing for the early experiences with computer games, now played on high-speed computers. Thus, the 'emulation movement' came into being, an artistic movement that although never given recognition has had a very broad 'underground' network. Something to be envious of, especially for the graphic artists. After all, they did not need the circus of museums, galleries and festivals to show their work: the Internet proved to be an ideal vehicle for this autonomous artistic movement.
The dance parties still swear by it. Samples heavily manipulated and modulated by the knobs and levers of the synthesizers. Clever DJ's know how to send the public into a trance, how to turn all those individuals into one 'body'. A body that at first sight is passive, with countless arms and legs spread out in centipede form. A body that seemingly yields to the DJ's instructions, but also nourishes its own desires, is a law unto itself, and in the end tries to take control.
This contest between DJ and public is a musical and choreographic happening directed by the simplest artistic gestures. The DJ as a perfect organ grinder, in this case on the synthesizer, vigorously turning one kind of knob, tapping another kind to get it working and pushing a third to start it going. With the most interesting diversion being: scratching an LP. What used to be a boring activity for sound technicians behind huge panels in the sound studio, now takes place behind a small panel with a series of knobs and is valued as the characteristic gesture of the leisure culture. Once Bach's Wohltemperiertes Klavier, Christofori's piano, the instruments
of Herr Sax and the electronic wonder of the Theremin were fashionable, now it is the instrument panels of the Rolands, Korgs and Yamahas. Music generators have replaced that remarkable finger dexterity of the fast piano chords or the saxophone by plain, undramatic turning and pushing, and the never-ending fiddling with the headphone against one ear. But, with his synthesizers and music station and all the different virtual instruments that have recently popped up, he does drive the public out on to the dance floor. The DJ as a choreographer who imposes elementary kinetics on the dancers by his scratching, turning and pushing. Intervening sounds, spatial modulations, stereophonic controllers as result of the shifting parameters that structure this dance body.
The undermining work of the VJ
It is a pity, but true: the Rolands, Korgs and Yamahas are missing from the visual world. The VJ must be content with a retrosentiment that is much more unambiguous and is weaker than the musical counterpart. The existing videomixers cannot help with this either. The image is lagging behind the music. And it is not only on the dance floor that the sound waves have the upper hand.
The question of where the graphic artists' MC-505, JX-305 and TB-505 are is thus superfluous. For how long now have they been trying to create a unified visual atmosphere? The efforts of the VJ, just like all experiments with the colour- and kaleidoscopic-movements of specific computer programs, have not really persisted. Evidently our visual powers of observation resist an all too clear visual mechanization, or maybe technique itself is resisting it. The videomixers and the trigger software have not brought the scratch video VJ's the slick, sensual and working art machine they had hoped for. Even a challenging technique like the fractal has evidently not yielded fruit for a long-lasting period. And Steinberg's 'x pose' is more likely to be the end of a whole generation than the advent of a new development. There are of course new software applications coming out every day, but they still remain in the shadow cast by the DJ's.
The Light Surgeons have drawn their conclusions from this. Consciously, or not. Is it an impartial recognition of trailing behind; is that why the mechanics are only at a simple technical level? Or is there a kind of envy going on here (perfectly justifiable) that has driven them, as it were, to a socially critical position? A bit of both, I think. The outcome is, in any case, that the VJ refuses to serve the DJ, but goes his own way and ultimately even tries to undermine the DJ's work. No matter what he tried, the VJ has always had an ambiguous relationship with his audience. Where the DJ can and must foster a clear love affair, the VJ has built up a love-hate relationship with the dancers. And that is a bonus. For if the VJ no longer conforms to the mind-bending and mind-deadening logic of the DJ - because ultimately the dance body does not want to be controlled by the visuals - there is room for other kinds of experiments. These haven't sprung up overnight (a great deal has happened since Andy Warhol's first experiments), but after the usual hesitation they are formulated yet again, often helped in this by the serious political protest culture of several generations ago. At least, that is how you could see the way in which the Light Surgeons challenge the dancing body, sabotaging, inciting, offending, distracting, pushing it apart, or suddenly making it burst into pieces and causing the individual to re-appear. In their earlier work with Ninja Tunes' Stealth Nights they developed a programme seriously challenging the DJ's retrosphere. Because it translates, as it were, the longing for the original Yamaha DY7 or the Roland Juno into intrinsic phenomena and places the retro-youth sentiment, this perhaps ultimately dubious longing, in a wider cultural context.
In today's perfected theatre culture, sophisticated visuals and sound, which have been synchronised down to the last detail, determine the dramatics of what has happened and has been heard. The Light Surgeons throw sand in the dazzling performances, challenge perfection with their Super 8mm films, slide projectors, their VCR and video projectors, but also with their 16mm films, slide sequences and DVD. In short, they replace them by artistic signs by using a mixture of lo-tech and hi-tech equipment. Giving that elementary DJ gesture a lovely critical turn.
– Paul Groot
|
Visual: three video projectors, two vision mixers, three video monitors, four players, deck, four slide projectors, MiniDV Cam, three film projectors, three turntables, three mirrors, rear projection screen, four floor parcans. Audio: PA, two monitors, three turntables, cd deck, mixer, drum machine, Theremin, Minidisk player
The Light Surgeons
Jude Greenaway ° 1974, Epping, UK
James Price ° 1975, Hatfield, UK
Chris Allen ° 1974, London, UK
Becky Gates ° 1976, London, UK
They live and work in London, UK
|
|
2 0 0 1 
