CODE: SELFLESS – with Harold Schellinx – PART ONE – RESIST!
Best known as an experimental electronic musician working in Europe’s avant-garde underground* since the late 1970s, Harold Schellinx has decided to take over WORM for a midsummer week in the hope that we all don’t come. And – get this – we don’t even have to not come to WORM, as he’s often somewhere else, with other people. That’s because the whole thing is, CODE: SELFLESS.
Here’s a list of activities you can pin to your maps.
17 June – Koffie & Ambacht https://worm.org/production/perspectiviesverdwijnpunt-17-harz-old-skel-niks-en-de-punt-focalen/
19 June – WORM https://worm.org/production/sounding-here-my-breath-my-music-rafaele-andrade-show-pony-nettleshipschellinx/
20 June -Weggeefwinkel https://worm.org/production/unpublic-met-harold-in-wgw/
21 June – WORM https://worm.org/production/harold-schellinx-post-post-ultra/
22 June – WORM https://worm.org/production/harold-schellinx-installatie-met-finissage/
ANYWAY Harold is an interesting chap so we asked him questions about the future and the past, and he told us about soup.
*We neither
Questions 1 and 2
Question one: Why should we not listen, or take notice?
Answer one:
Do not listen to obey. HEAR. Think. Resist!
Question two: The past is eating itself. What chance, or hope for memory?
Answer two:
Art—both over- and underground—is our culture’s mirror and conscience. This of course includes music, and especially music in its most ephemeral form: free improvisation. Free improvisation continually re-enacts the birth of art. It returns to art’s roots again and again, and again, striving to reproduce the memory of originary gestures of art: “imitations of movement that interrupt the given and produce difference” (Benjamin, Peter Gary).
unPublic (part of the upcoming WORM week) is meant as such an immaterial perpetual memory ‘chip’. unPublic, on a multitude of levels, will refer and re-start any music you can imagine, retaining memories that reside in fragile and unrepeatable gestures: hands tracing patterns on instruments or objects, fragments of melody recalled and played, sung, whistled hummed under one’s breath, the gradual degradation of sounds held on tape, obsolete technology, failure, erasure, decay… It is the over and over and over play that continues to unfold, then fold, unfold, fold —an eternal Nietzschean return in pseudo-cyclical time. Or, in the stirring of a soup, be it sonic or of other. That is where memory continues to reside.
