[fabosch]

Сообщение от artcol

What's the seriousness of this is stated? Can ... Hmmm ... formulated?
Juggling symbols and postmodern irony, not more. A whole galaxy of jugglers represented in the collection art4.

Formulate a try, but to persuade - it's how it goes.
For juggling symbols and post-modern irony at Pepperstein I fancied the same as the fancies of poetry Kibirov (as I wrote above).
Here it is (Kibirov) juggles characters and irony in his spare.
Here I take almost at random:

Meanwhile faded chrysanthemums, as well as
purple sunset burnt out
a chemical plant, my angel. Lie down the same
so I whisper to you sing.
  
I'm not going to weasel your fire,
My friend, burn, fatigue,
because in my heart otzhivshem all former
fumbling again, again!

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I, too, in the lonely hours of the night
love, sinful thing, to lie down.
But I hear no voice and I see no eyes,
no shoulders in the light of the candle.
  
I see a smoking room, storeroom, shed,
I hear the command "Get up!"
politpodgotovku and sportsmanship,
and dembelsky red album.
  
Canteen, barley, overalls, mentovku,
May Day in the District of DC,
docking, and fartsovku trip,
"Samtrest" and "Rot Front", and Dukat!
  
And in this, then topic - and the personal and petty! -
I'm better again and again!
'm Better poetic Belka and arrow
while fellow citizens are asleep.
  
'm Better Tereshkova, the Soyuz-Apollo
over a round of Soviet land
with the latest on the "Russian vodka" voucher
hover over a forgotten country!
  
"I did Chomu Sokil?" - Sung in Shepetovka,
floats Suliko over Cooroy,
Chechens and dance on fingers deftly
and tears in his eyes Rodnina!
  
Great, Small, White Mama
and other Motherland!
Now it probably will not disgrace you imesh,
but I still hath.
  
Raised his pants, I choose Pepsi,
but in my heart - "Duchess" and "Sitro"
pivnuha a factory Lepse,
"Aghdam" a candy "Citron"!
  
Do I love it? I do not know. Of course.
Of course not! But then again
kaveenovsky lyricism and KGB officers
Clouds tear my eyes!
  
And with a stupid smile on the crimson album
purring Shainsky me.
Chomu Chip and Dale are in no hurry to my aid,
sugar-free Orbit chewing?
  
Chomu Well I did Sokil? Tom Well I'm not a falcon
that croak all night,
that crying and hiding from the storm, high ...
And indeed, it will pass.
  
Then I will sing you, my angel, poor
how babbles foliage
the smell of wild rose in the mist of dawn,
as the Old words die away,
  
all forgotten, all simmers
as stunted purple sunset
as a personal life slowly flows
and not turn back.

That after all this mockery, as if in Kibirov there is something absolutely vzapravdeshnoe.
It is ironic that, indeed, worthy of irony, but at the same time over this can not be "ironic really, because it is a part of you, maybe not the best part, but one without which there will you as a person.
Tried to establish a shorter, but I do not know whether it is clear.

That's something I fancied and Pepperstein. I do not know, maybe in vain >

Posted 15 minutes

Сообщение от Art-lover

Comparison of the archaic (Greek) and avant-garde total utopias - productive theme, - just because of their incomplete "isomorphism". Greek "negumanoidnost" richer, which is why the inverse with respect to the interpretation of peppershteynovskoy and appeared to me more interesting - and ironic at the same time and sureznee "if you want (Yes, the ideal here and there, but fundamentally different. In the ancient tradition of homo still glimmering in the early morning fog, but this hazy image is already warmed by the human warmth, which is to occur, and in the vanguard of cosmogony is its radical "removal", the fruits of which we have the pleasure to enjoy. I do not think that, being guided by the compass of the vanguard, humans get out of the deep are .. .).

Yes, of course, the difference is how not to be, but the more interesting similarities. However because you can about the similarities continue.
For example, the fate of Greek sculpture and its degeneration in the Roman idols, and the fractional verbosity Hellenistic Laocoon.
And the fate of radical utopian avant-garde, degenerated almost in the Faberge eggs.
As for deep x., How to know where the road goes on, maybe it'll do when the compass ...