Art is INTENDED for the Hunters of HUMAN FLESH
It is
A frenetic state of captivation
“Gnawing on a bone if possible
is the Portuguese dream of the good life”
(Jorge de Sena)
Eating (preferably human flesh)
Is the foundation of any possibility.
Refusing autophagy
(what will be the flavour of that which we already know)
we propose amorous voracity
because man loves
above all and everything
HIS FELLOW CREATURE
To eat, To err, To defecate
Aureal Disorder
United to PLEASANT ORDER
The Act of Creation presupposes
either
a bucolic inferno
or
an unsustainable paradise
Our starting point is a magnificent sociological situation:
1. no-money. Our country is generically poor without being too poor. We lie on the boundaries of the rich and little else. We are treated with a due level of disrespect, without resentment, by those who own capital. Our future does not look very rosy.
2. art consumption (importation). We import as much as we can, and badly, and we export next to nothing. Due to the lack of a national market or institutions with vision (although some have genuine capacity), we import models from abroad without taking time to digest them. We participate in the legitimisation of the cultural imperialism that accompanies economic colonialism.
State colonialism has ended, with obvious advantages for the ex-colonialists, who continue their business dealings without the inconvenience of having to associate with the masses: full-time dedication.
3. Low level of production. We produce very little because we are bunch of Moors and Southerners. But so were the Greeks and the Renaissance Italians! So we have no excuse. Our low level of productivity derives from a lack of enthusiasm best typified by the Fado and the sweet nostalgia of the Saudade. Idle leisure is good for the soul and is the father of many things, but shouldn’t be confused with inertia.
4. Difficulty in admitting influences. Originality only exists in the minds of vulgar people. Originality only becomes truly original when all influences have been properly digested. In order for this to happen, we must be open to so-called influences. Finally, we must have the courage, little by little, to rid ourselves of such influences. Any innovator harbours a wealth of influences.
We do exactly the opposite. We drift. We allow economic impossibilities to occur astutely. We ensure that chance is never left to chance. That minds pull together and unite. Without clarification there is no room for innocence. Neo-cannibalism proposes a history before history began, an art that dispenses with the need for industry. Hyper-cultish work for the masses. Without fear of egocentricities or insolence!
Why not?
February 1982
I
We dress ourselves with the mathematical clothes of illuminated despotism as we launch crises into oblivion, closed within a central fraternity, in a space and time that has been constructed and deconstructed for our habitation and transgression; organising while disorganising, more or less in an exhibitionistic manner, allowing our bodies to be seen or re-seen, as they narcissistically dive into the labyrinths of our own image, in a mirror that is uncontrollably transcended simultaneously with the object that is therein reflected.
Chaos exists in the centre of such things, it is one of the intimate god-machine-methods, an active and inactive confusion: a cold passion that lies more or less in waiting.
But who ever dreams of a perfect and intact order?
Whether or not to count upon Utopias: a mere question of tactics.
And what is Homeostetics? An absurd question filled with taxis, caviar, pocketbooks and arsenic...
Making all gestures flow towards a Immediate-Unique-One, or build a light/heavy weight manufacturer-god, an artisanal god or a plurality of gods, sacred and implacable, making god and his cathedral flows towards the manufacture: may the mountains move to visit the prophets!
Everything begins in the orifices.
First the festive ritual of catharsis: to bite, to yelp, to contain, to involve; followed by ceasing involvement.
This is achieved paradoxically. With the fingernails filled with black and white humour, in a maximalist-minimalist act and vice-versa: in this case, we are left perplexed by the scale because it is filled with incoming and outgoing flows, inside-outside in movement.
Regression and progress in humanity, in infancy: wallowing in the fraternity with revolutionary crimes; but the project is always the same – to reveal the New City.
In this manner the powers-that-be reveal themselves as un-revealable, in luxurious intimacies and exaggerated pantomimes, without frenetic sentimentalisms and in nostalgic memories of opiates, with binoculars focused on the beyond.
The uniform makes the soldier, but the label only completes the homeostetic.
The Homeostetic is a wise and absolute creature, conscious of his genius. The roads of his excess lead him to the palace of wisdom. The limit between the dragged and the dragger (magnetic fact) is the infinite-here.
Revolution, politics, regressivity, solidarity and the individualis me, they love us profoundly:
oh to be a hero, crazy, cursed or Beautiful!
Pedro Proença, 1983
in a pamphlet for the “Homeostetics” exhibition, ESBAL Exhibition Hall, May 26 to June 9, 1983
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