...was an album by the Chapel Hill indie rock band Polvo released in 1994. If you're familiar with the band, that's great. If not, I'm hardly surprised. The reason I'm dropping a mention here, however, is that I think there's a lesson we can learn from this 90's rock masterpiece...one spelled out explicitly in the album title. Sadly, I feel that it may in fact be true that we live in a Dark Age of sorts, for all the obvious reasons that hardly need any explication,...but this should not eclipse the sublime beauty and poetic grace that constantly emerge from this gloom. "Light shines in darkness, because what else could it shine in?" I've been observing a lot of handwringing and frustration,...people seem bewildered that there are no obvious systemic guidelines to couch the production of contemporary art. A litany of complaints echo through the air. Mostly there is a dissatisfaction with the machinery- the powerful engines of commerce that seem to be so soulless and so successful, and seem to have annihilated any "discourse" that could provide clarity amidst the surging excess of options. At first blush, there may in fact appear to be a problem with all of this...but upon closer examination, I feel that the actual problem, if there is one, does not concern the "system", or any other vulgar and material measurement of production. This is a war that will never be won, so why try? The problem is that people have begun to value the wrong things, and more specifically that they are looking in the wrong direction for answers. Nothing real can be accomplished by replacing one Authoritative Ideology with another. There is a futility in this approach that is more than obvious. I like to think that certain monsters will vanish if they are simply ignored. But if one makes their bread by saving the world from monsters, then I suppose they like to create and then nurture them for that specific purpose.
I propose that we belong to a Poetic Age. This is the age of the individual, tribal boundaries have begun to vaporize within the charmed perimeter of the information network. Ideas and inspiration surround us. There are more reasons to be optimistic and hopeful in the transcendent and liberating power of art than ever. But I realize now that this is something that can only be done in private...in small intimate groups and conversations..or even in the solitude of one's own thoughts...We shouldn't look to the world to be our mirror, especially if what we seek is immaterial. And rather then building monolithic immutable momuments of accomplishment that will inevitably crumble into dust, I think it's better to travel like a nomad across the steppes. As we pitch our tents, we can set fires and share stories. In the morning after we haved moved on, our presence will be a whisper in the reeds, the faint heat from the dying embers of our fire... and then finally a dot on the horizon that slowly disappears from sight.
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