Daily Archives: May 26, 2017

What do Apple, Google, and Facebook have in common with the Californian hippie movement of the 1960s? A new exhibition at Londons Design Museum explains the relationship between Silicon Valleys eco-system and Californias freewheeling past.

California: Designing Freedom is organised around five themes, considering how individuals can control how they see, make, speak, travel, and share, using technology. Presented partly in a series of Geodesic domes the lattice-shelled architectural structures favoured by Californian communes in the 1960s and 1970s the curators Justin McGuirk and Brendan McGetrick demonstrate how the 1960s counterculture movements in the Golden State have inspired the ethos of its major corporations up to today, with the belief that technology can equip the individual with the tools for a better, easier, and self-sufficient life.

Rainbow flag, by Gilbert Baker, 1978

Through objects, archival publications, documents, and even LSD blotting paper, the benevolence of that ideology is unwavering. Stewart Brands 1968 Whole Earth Catalogue, a precursor to Wikipedia, for example, was an early attempt to democratise access to information; a home kit for genetic engineering is another invention that shares the intent of giving the public the tools to create change for themselvesalbeit more problematic when put in to practical use.

Although this exhibition is a buoyant celebration of California as the heartland of pioneering design and technology, its not all gimmicks, gizmos and gadgets. In 1995, two academics at the nearby University of Westminster published an essay that also probed at the politics of the Silicon Valley, now visualised in this exhibition.

Richard Barbrook and Andy Cameroons The Californian Ideology pointed out the contradictions in the idealistic impulse in Dotcom neoliberalism in Silicon Valley. The media theorists argued that the paradoxical mix of New Left and New Right beliefs in California has in fact lead to what Adam Curtis later referred to as the feeling that we are helpless components in a global system. The more pernicious consequences of technological advances in our advance capitalist systemfrom social immobility, to hacking and terrorismcant be ignored.

With some of the very recent new technologies now at our disposition, on display here: Snapchat Spectacles, Amazon Echo, FitBit and, Waymo (Googles self-driving car, seen for the first time in the UK) the question is left hanging over the techno-utopia. From functional to fantastical, youre left wondering whether technology has really liberated us, or made us slaves to the machine.

DESIGN MUSEUM, TECHNOLOGY, AMERICAN DESIGN, GOOGLE, APPLE, LONDON EXHIBITIONS

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Tracing California's techno-utopia, from function to fantasy ... - wallpaper.com

1984 and the leering face of a devil roars exultantly as it smashes through the wall of an old English church, drawing upon the mounting forces of turmoil and unrest fermenting in the strife-torn countryside in order to gain power and strength. 1975 and the British Isles have reverted to a de-industrialised fear-strewn land where outsiders and unbelievers are viewed with suspicion and hostility as self-proclaimed witchfinders seek out those who would question this return to a prelapsarian idyll. And there's 1972, the metal corridors of an offshore sea fort clanging discordantly to the scuffled, wheezing pursuit between dreaded ocean-borne intruders and island dwellers desperate to defend what they view as rightfully theirs. Fearful episodes resonating down the years like folk tales.

If you grew up in the blighted United Kingdom between the 1950s-1980s, then these images and the sounds which not only accompanied but enabled them may well be imprinted onto your memories to the point that they've formed part of your own consciousness. Sound generated from within the television to the point that it formed a crucial link between ourselves and the screen, way beyond notions of mere incidental music. In the 1975 BBC children's drama The Changes, it is sound, in the form of a hyper-pressurised all-enveloping electronic scream courtesy of the Radiophonic Workshop's Paddy Kingsland, which signals the fall of Britain back into a devastating yet almost welcomed Dark Age.

We also have sound houses, where we practice and demonstrate all sounds, and their generation. We have harmonies, which you have not, of quarter-sounds and lesser slides of sounds. These words form part of Francis Bacon's 17th century text The New Utopia and were utilised by Radiophonic Workshop co-founder Daphne Oram in 1957 as aspirational desire for the production of experimental electronic sound worlds within the BBC's output. Sixty years later, with utopian notions further from view than at any time since Oram's hopeful manifesto, the Radiophonic Workshop here release a new body of work based around five improvised pieces which also take their titles from Bacon's poetic future vision. The album credits the line-up as being Mark Ayres and Paddy Kingsland along with Martyn Ware and Steve Jones. It's strangely odd and disillusioning to think of the Workshop being just another group as opposed to government funded collective of isolated workers researching the limits of sound and music under the guise of light entertainment.

The lovingly rendered packaging for Burials in Several Earths very much plays up to the Workshop's influence as indirect progenitors of hauntological tendencies within strands of musical and cultural thinking throughout the 21st century thus far. Houses crumble under swirls of murky vortices and analogue synthesisers wash up as flotsam amongst wrecked ships on rocky shores. Yet, for all the imagery of one era's decay superimposed upon another, the music chimes with clarity and freshness reminiscent of Cluster at their most benevolently aqueous and formless. The five extended pieces, filtering waves of ambient shingle with fragmented piano patterns and sudden outbursts of Gilmour-esque guitar wail, are clearly intended to demonstrate the Workshop's abilities once freed from their duty as public servants to provide memorable themes. Sometimes, as on 'Things Buried in Water', the desire to break from these past boundaries can result in elongated passages of aimless meandering. But, considering the BBC's short-sighted disbanding of the Workshop in 1998, you can forgive the surviving members and acolytes occasional wish to drift and wander down blind alleys at will. While there is the odd lapse into grisly power-riffing, the overall mood is sedate if haunted. It has the same effect as dormant memories or lingering dreams, seemingly placid and harmless but then suddenly coiling itself around you.

Listening to Burials in Several Earths is like encountering background music for 2017 which was conceived forty years ago. There is certainly nothing here which could date it beyond the mid 1980s. But future and past, reality and fiction, seem to have completely lost any meaning in this present day. Pink Floyd, once counter-cultural totems, are feted with a heritage exhibition yet the real counter-culture sounds were being broadcast into children's television programmes and wildlife documentaries. Perhaps this means we are all the counter-culture now; we carry its inheritance within us and must pay heed to its warnings and urges. The sound houses become empty mausoleums as we hurtle further away from that utopian ideal. The future crumbles into dust while the past traps us in a perpetual time loop.

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Burials In Several Earths Euan Andrews , May 25th, 2017 07:28 - The Quietus

There was a time when people were drawn to Colorado for the abundance of farming opportunities and the utopian possibilities of new settlements rather than the craft beers and high-octane thrills. The makeup of 17th-century entrepreneurs looked a bit differently than the microbrew hustlers and Gor-Tex-clad athletes of today. But where cowboys used to herd the 300,000 buffaloes along the Front Range, a fleet of road bikes now keeps tabs on the plains back roads.

James Herman, rodeo chairman of Colorados largest rodeo, the Greeley Stampede, is convinced that these two cultures the new urban-dwelling mountain lovers and the old-school open space lovers need not be mutually exclusive. As the Greeley Stampede nears its 100-year anniversary, Hermans mission is to use the event as a platform for connecting the past and the present

As Colorado gets bigger and bigger, we feel like were losing some of our Western heritage, he says. So, [the rodeo] is a good way to preserve it.

Since its inception in 1922, the Greeley Stampede has drawn in crowds to experience, honor and learn about many of the states founding traditions. Over the course of this years 12-day festival, hundreds of thousands of spectators will come from every corner of the globe. Dozens of classic rodeo events, from bull riding to demolition derbies to steer wrestling, will ensue. Six late-night arena concerts will sound long past dark. Drinks will be had. Miss Rodeo Colorado 2017 will be named.

Its nonstop action and excitement. Good wholesome family fun, Herman says.

I always say its Colorados biggest party, adds John DeWitt, the rodeos general chairman.

Over the past century, however, a chorus of near-misses has split up the Stampedes legacy of joyful refrains; the Womens Christian Temperance Union, a devastating fire, a stampede that hospitalized 11 people, the 2000s economic recession, and even a cowboys death all tried to foil the rodeos success to no avail. Over the past 96 years, the rodeo has stayed strong, and continues to build upon its mission to celebrate and preserve Western heritage.

The Stampedes roots trace back to the late 1800s, when the town of Greeley dedicated a Fourth of July celebration to its super-star potato farmers who helped bring economic success to the newly-established settlement.

The town of Greeley itself was the product of one New Yorkers imagination. In 1841, Horace Greeley had just founded the New York Tribune, a weekly paper that once boasted the highest-circulation in the country. As the Civil War dragged on, he grew obsessed with developing the West and fiercely encouraged those on the Eastern seaboard to migrate toward sunset. Eventually he popularized the phrase, Go West, young man, and grow up with the country.

Five years after the Civil War ended, Greeley sent his agriculture editor Nathan Meeker on a reconnaissance mission with orders to find the perfect spot to set up a utopian agriculture colony. Greeleys vision incorporated a group of highly-educated and pious families, involved in sophisticated farming systems, collectively forging a new America.

Meeker scoured the Front Range and eventually settled in the swath of land nestled between the Poudre and the Platte Rivers. He planned for Greeleys community to maximize the available irrigation technology, and he started building ditches for farms. He also immediately broke ground on a school. On Dec. 4, 1869, Meeker wrote Call for a Western Community, a letter that Greeley published in the New York Tribune to announce that applications were open for those interested in the utopia. Meeker received over 3,000 letters in response, of which 324 originals are now kept in the Greeley History Museum.

In the end, Meeker chose 700 families and directed them to the Rocky Mountain outpost that he continued to develop. In April of 1870, the first members began to trickle in: the original adventurous, risk-taking transplants that founded Weld County. It would be another six years before Colorado became an official state.

Predictably, farming became the cornerstone that supported and eventually succeeded Greeleys utopian vision. Aside from a massive production of potatoes and cattle, Greeley was also making 25 percent of the nations sugar by 1920. The town continued its Fourth of July community celebrations to honor the farmers and their families, and in 1922, with 2,500 people in attendance, the yearly festival was officially christened the Greeley Spud Rodeo.

In the near-century since, the one-day event has grown to span 12 days, and its attendance has multiplied a hundredfold. Last year, DeWitt estimates more than 250,000 people passed through the festival, some flying in from countries across the world. The name has changed a handful of times, transitioning from the Spud Rodeo to Greeleys Rocky Mountain Stampede, to the Greeley Independence Stampede, and finally, in 2006, settling at todays name: simply the Greeley Stampede.

Our goal is to expose as many people and as many different cultures as possible to this Western heritage. Rodeo and agriculture are a huge part of our past, DeWitt says. Although he didnt grow up in rodeo culture himself, hes immersed himself in it over the last seven years, starting with helping the Stampede organize its music and entertainment packages. Now, the family-centered culture, high-energy people and supportive community that hes found through rodeo are the most influential and positive parts of his life. This gives him the confidence that others can come into the rodeo experience blind and be transformed in the same way.

In recent years, the Stampede has initiated a big push to broaden its scope of rodeo and attract families or individuals who may not have been interested in the archetypal macho-cowboy-riding-angry-bull trope. The music that the Stampede organizes is one of its big initiatives, and thanks to DeWitt, its become one of their most attractive elements.

My goal is to reach out to the young, the old, the foreign I dont care who you are, DeWitt says. He wants the diversity in the Front Range to be reflected at the Stampede, and he believes the concert series stands the best chance of broadening attendee demographics by appealing to a larger pool of people.

We have two days this year that we have devoted stages to nothing but Hispanic music, he says. In addition to this, theyll have headliners like the Barenaked Ladies, Toby Keith, Chase Rice and numerous other musicians to fill in the 50-plus music acts over the course of the festival. The organizers are hoping this draws in new spectators, getting them to the event, and then letting the rodeo bug take over, says DeWitt.

The Stampede is still ripe with old-timey cowboy culture and events, while other non-traditional events include the RV demo derby. We sell that out every year. Well have five to six RVs in an arena just crashing into one another, DeWitt says. Its a crowd favorite for sure.

By the end of the Stampede, both DeWitt and Herman hope that people who have taken the chance to visit understand that the rodeo wouldnt be what it is, even in its new-age-meets-old-age glory, without the legacy of the countys founders. Thats an integral part of the event. The Greeley area has such a unique Western history within its agriculture community, Herman says. The rodeo is a huge community event, and we have such a great community. Thats what this whole ordeal comes down to. Lets celebrate that.

Read more from the original source:

The Greeley Stampede - Boulder Weekly