kagablog

Yes Mista K
 
So and thank you for the invite, and to see your quasi-Kaufmann(Andy)-fake-Ray(charles)
complete abso-fucky Aryan blues band. Damn. You really Are Mista Quasi -
embraced that truth that no-one Can ever see you, sense you.
There is only you’re (at least knowingly) un-fixable view, your perspectives of all these kiddies trying to react accordingly to what you emit. Yes Kaganof, I see you:
see the blur-dancing lines of consciousness fixed in physical form.
 
Derrida (why did such an intelligence drown in the sheers of lexeme??) said it quaint:
differance
There is no ‘fixed’.. the centre always shift self all ways repell focus
like tat star ever shining bright when you don’t look fuckn right ‘at’ it.
 
Cos there is no ‘at’, is there yes he says, Mick, yes.
 
********
 
But this new Punk you sent me, for what to violent ‘PUNK’ against but form and structure and meaning? is EXACTLY (ahem) WRONG -
 
Dadaism in all forms misses the point - the nihilist cannot sense with orgao-granted physique that Yes! Indeed! Organicism never was the problem -
Life in all her blurious smeltin heaves and melts [where is the focus? Where is the structu..-
see man tremblerollupndie quivrin..] IS the only medium.
 
it is man that is wrong. the west. Plato/Socrates with their gift of the Meta. the perfect.
 
So here’s why I’m so insistently cheesy:
I retain the glory of life-scented: I don’t anarchise, I seek the faults, and re-attempt the fundament of concept accordingly:
 
 
The answer is NOT
weak chaos, exhausted vulgarity and scatolophism.
 
 
it is awakening a language from sincere LIFEMBRACINGLANCE.
 
 
thaddit
Mook
Mick Raubenheimer

we cannot abstain from watching for the revelation of a being that would be an object neither for herself nor for any other gaze and yet which would effect, in the mystery of her invisibility, the condensation of all objectivity

jean paul sartre

african noise foundation is a project of aryan kaganof and joel assaizky
we promise nothing
we bring the noise

FREEDOM FIGHTER, fresh from their debut gigs at the National Arts festival in Grahamstown and lightning tour of Tshwane where they played with slam dub poet Otsile Ntsoane and recorded their first video featuring The Big Black Doos, are now returning to home turf. Described by Mail & Guardian’s weekly listings poet Nadine Botha as being a “twisted blues band”, FREEDOM FIGHTER are currently recording their debut CD at Parkhurst’s Ashkenazy-Muezzin Studio where veteran producer Memphis Menelik has hailed guitarist Dax Butler as “awesome…a wizard.”

Joburg audiences will get a unique opportunity to see FREEDOM FIGHTER in full flight on Friday 5 August at 9pm at the BOHEMIAN, corner Park and Menton, Richmond (near Auckland Park).

For more information contact Derek Davey 083-5485916

A review of FREEDOM FIGHTER’s debut gigs at the National Arts festival can be found on the net at this address:
http://www.lesrochesnoires.org/artistes/dionysosandronis/dionysos.htm#t21

i am compelled to be honest with you
your work fascinates me. i suppose it’s the subtle sickness to your tone that
both invites me to maintain communication and repels me from you. i feel that i
can say exactly what i want here because i doubt you easily take offense to
anything, perhaps you do but your facade is one of immortality and i choose to
address it.
(i was enraged by your interpretation of my sculpture. you may have a gift of
precise insight but why use it to the depersonalisation of another human. i
felt that your insight best be kept unspoken seeing that it is about something
very real to me… but at the same time i provoked you. i wanted to hear it, and
be made to realise the permeability of life and art that has little connection
but profound significance. why i felt so violated by your presence i have
realised was my own violation of a confrontation much needed.) but
nevertheless, i am not sure into which ‘category’ i fit but i fear it is that
of the young impressionable virgin. i don’t think i’m being terribly articulate
but let’s rephrase things then - yes i am intrigued by a possible collaboration,
yes i’m bored, yes i live in joburg and could probably see you if i wanted to,
yes performance art is a keen interest of mine but no - (maybe i misinterpret
you) but mud sounds suspiciously perverse and i refuse to entertain that to the
greater degree.

although, i would love to harness some of the creative energy that i think i
have but that is being stifled here. i won’t be a stranger, email me again and
let me know what you are thinking.

beth.

 
by Ramon dos Santos
 
 
As we travelled back from Beaufort Wes to Capetown I realized I had not seen this much horizon, maybe ever before in my life.
That year somebody tried to blow up a couple of shopping malls while, at the same time, another somebody played a lot of Macy Gray.
We cheered everytime we heard her sing in Stones, inbetween rock ballads and final countdowns. Sweet and dear Macy.  Lost, like a lonely fairy-princess, in a dark wood of German-minded rockers.
 
Kaganof and I had been talking for days about how to become a guru.
The reccuring dilemma being the demographics of our potential following.
Firstly: how do we get one? Then: how do we make sure that ours stays a stricly under 25 girls-club? We had little money, some looks, a lot of attitude and one 15 year old Toyota Corolla named Lucy between us.
“At least Lucy qualifies for a membership. Agewise,” Kaganof said and raised his glass to the finest woman on four wheels. (Where are you now, Lucy?)
 
On our arrival in Capetown, having lunch near Camps Bay and eating an obscenely sexual fried caucasian fish, the sunlight hit the wine like good news.
Having struggled with logistics for a few days it was then decided over lunch that we would start with being each other’s guru.
It wouldn’t give us the unlimited sex and admiration of  countless followers, but at least provide the moral support and comfort that only a guru can give you. We would take care of the rest later.
We drank some more wine, looked at the sun and both felt a great relief in the fact that we were sitting next to our guru.
 
Later that night at a party that did not seem to have a heart or a center, with the effect that everybody just kept walking from room to other room all night long, it quickly became clear that we were the only gurus on duty.
At first it looked like free hunting. The typical brainless college muscle that represented the male sex seemed no match for us, ambitious young mental Thunderbirds.
But it’s hard to be a guru, carrying high standards of truth and honesty and devotion to the now, when the audience is only interested in the cosmetic element of social intercourse. And as the party dragged on and the cosmetics wore off, we started to doubt if these people even deserved our salvation.
 
Next to the guru-squad, only one other human being there that night seemed to be driven by something else than media. Something uncontrollable and spastic. A madness and a sadness and a lot of pain and destructiveness.
But also, the exstatic.
The almost real.
She went by the name of Christine.
On the first night of our mutual guruness, she was the only woman that followed us to the Corolla and breakfast at Saul’s.
As we played the juke-box and our steaks, I lost touch with the reality of my guruness and fell hopelessly in love for the next couple of hours with Cristine, who danced in her blue dress, all alone, to Pink Floyds’ Great Gig in the Sky, while outside a grey sleepy light anounced a new day.
At the same time Christine, following a compulsive need to make her life as complicated as possible, fancied herself getting a crush on Kaganof who, bless him, was still hovering majestically over things and matters, and showed no intention of playing a major role in her reality show.
We continued breakfast at Llundundo bay, eating the first fresh leaves of light. Kaganof and I joined forces and we made the earth rotate towards the sun. Christine said she felt it too.
While we talked about death, love, Pink Floyd, Webern, Schopenhauer, fried calamari and Christine’s desperate struggle with life, Kaganof had, with the ease of a cat, fallen asleep on the rocks.
I instantly recognized destiny and decided that this was the moment to strike.
But when I turned to Christine she was looking very hard at the sea, all the way across the Cape of Good Hope, right into the heart of the Arctic.
Love was definitely not in the air.
Then I noticed she was crying.
Without a sound.
Almost real.

Kaganof my brother,
 
It was my great pleasure meeting you. I loved the unusual raw perfrmance (in the dark: the coarse harsh voice deeply from a man with a soft human soul). I enjoyed your presentation during the Media semiar at DIT. Your responses to questions by the audience was amazing. Sharp, eagle-eyed inteligence. And when you confessed about your past association with sniffing (substances) and piercing thighs (or who knows?), I realised you were a genuine poet - prepared to remove every layer of clothing after the other. I’ve been reading your well-crafted poetry gift, “Jou ma se poems”, and I wish every poet was as brave and honest as you. You are breaking new ground, exploring travelled and less travelled ground with amazing talent. Thanks for sharing. Remember Cool Runnings! I will go there soon.
 
Long live your spirit of generosity. Long live Kaganof the sage and poet.
 
Cheers,
Vonani Bila

Sonic Elements
Director’s motivation

The Greek philosopher Plotinus’ aphorism “Soul is fire” informs my proposed investigation into the nature of the third generation digital sample. If the essence of the existing universe indeed be fire - then we immediately need to ask ourselves, yes, but what is it that is being burned? Plotinus never answers this question conclusively in his major work, the Ennead. My fascination for his philosophical system is not mere admiration, but highly pragmatic: I believe that through the process of digital technohybridization we are now in a position to add on to the theoretical concepts posited by Plotinus so long ago.
The neo-Plotinical digital research must therefore start out from Plotinus’ primary reference for the nature of all matter - Fire.

However, coming from a post-Greek, Christian background, it is impossible for me to ignore a Christian take on fire and therefore I choose to frame my digital experiment in strongly Judeo-Christian terms, utilising Edgar Allan Poe’s grisly story, The Masque Of The Red Death to reference the dominant use of fire in Christian metaphors, ie. HELL.

The synthesis of the Greek and Christian backgrounds to where the digital sample is today results in a very direct, albeit apocalyptic, statement - this world IS hell!!
In other words, the result of my digital research is to locate our contemporary understanding of the world via quantum physics in a paradigm that lends credence to Plotinus’ notion “Soul is fire” in a world that I perceive as utterly hell-bent on self-destruction.

Thus the formal, methodological approach to the space between the zero and the one in digital callibration gains a moral dimension. Ultimately, the kind of experiment that Frank Scheffer and myself are involved in in this period is a return to ethics, using advanced computer fragmentation of the image to reach a point where we ask ourselves the question, “how does the digital analysis of the image affect the way we experience space, time and deity?”

Re-mixing each other’s work is the interrogative, reflexive level of this questioning, the kind of essential work that experimental film making must return to these days if it is to mean anything to audiences outside of its narrowly defined “specialist” clique. These digital investigations are for all of humanity. We are involved, via the re-mix project, in a humanization of the digital potential, a harmonization of the digital dissonance, and ultimately, a unification (uni-fact-ion and uni-fiction) of the disparate digital elements.

Individuation is an illusion.
Only one universe is.
And the universe is One.

Aryan Kaganof
19/10/2005
Johannesburg

organized by rick andrew
the screening took place on 15/9/2005

Dear Frank
Thank you for your mail.

SONIC ELEMENTS for me is the third and final installment of a tryptych that explores what happens to the image in the age of digital reproduction.

SONIC FRAGMENTS, the first episode of the trilogy, was a collective exploration of how the digital process produced a fragmented image of reality. This fragmentation then became reality. In other words, we discovered during the process that reality copies its image.

SONIC GENETICS, the second episode of the trilogy, was once again a collective exploration, only this time we researched the survival mechanism at play in the tremendous pool of replicating digital images. We discovered that there was an inexorable tendency for certain images to replicate themselves faster, and more successfully than others. Thus, that digital imagery is in fact alive.

SONIC ELEMENTS, the third episode of the trilogy, will now synthesize the results of both earlier, collective experiments, into a defining, or concluding, work, wherein you and I will rigorously expose each other’s digital creations to this process of digital fragmentation and genetic survivalism. In essence, our goal is to uncover and immobilize the four elements of the digital apocalypse. The fate of the digital Youniverse depends on our success. We must not fail!

Yours in digital anarchy for a liberated future-zone
Aryan Kaganof

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SHADOW REALM Vol. I: Distorted Visions (1997-2005)
FRI 28 OCT @ 6:15pm & THUR 3 NOV @ 8:15pm (Labia, Orange Str.)
South Africa doesn’t have a huge legacy when it comes to Horror, Scary, or Freaky Cult movies. We hope to change this perception by enhancing each year’s schedule with a collection of locally made short flix from the darkside. We encourage more moviemakers to go out and shoot that off-centre project they’ve been putting off, as there is now a platform for them. This first collection, Distorted Visions, include dark, grissly, and bloody short tales from Aryan Kaganof (A Funeral & a documentary Ron Athey: It’s Scripted), an AFDA produced short (Dark Farm), and one from festival director Paul A. Blom (imPERFECTION). You’ll also get to see eerie music videos from 187 Films’ clip for Sibot of The Real Estate Agents’ track Super Evil Me, and Gregoire Pinard’s animation for international rock band A Perfect Circle’s track, Blue.