Archive for Superchunk
On September 16, The Nasher Museum of Art at Duke University continues its series on art and vinyl with an artist talk by Xaviera Simmons followed by a performance by Superchunk.
Trevor Schoonmaker, curator, on The Record:
“Since the heyday of vinyl, and through its decline and recent resurgence, a surprising number of artists have worked with vinyl records. The Record presents some of the best, rarest and most unexpected examples. The artists in the exhibition use the vinyl record as metaphor, archive, artifact, icon, portrait, or transcendent medium.”
Richard Rorty’s essay, “Trotsky and the Wild Orchids,” published in Philosophy and Social Hope, is a brief but powerful intellectual biography. Here Rorty charts his interests as a child through his philosophical education to his conclusive pragmatism.
We follow Rorty from his prurient, affable, pre-teen interest in Krafft-Ebing’s Psychopathia Sexualis and his well-intentioned (but understandably incomplete) efforts to conquer Trotsky’s History of the Russian Revolution, to his volunteer years with the Workers’ Defense League, to an obsession with wild orchids. Finally to the University of Chicago in 1946 where Rorty, as an undergraduate intended to, “[…] reconcile Trotsky and the orchids. I wanted to find some intellectual or aesthetic framework which would let me – in a thrilling phrase which I came across in Yeats – ‘hold reality and justice in a single vision’.
He continues, “By reality I meant more or less, the Wordsworthian moments in which […] I had felt touched by something numinous, something of ineffable importance. By justice I meant what Norman Thomas and Trotsky both stood for, the liberation of the weak from the strong. I wanted a way to be both an intellectual and spiritual snob and a friend of humanity – a nerd recluse and a fighter for justice. I was very confused, but reasonably sure that at Chicago I would find out how grown-ups managed to work the trick I had in mind.”
For quite some time I believed likewise that philosophy, theology, and art held the keys to this sort of ‘unification theory’ wherein absolutes could be distilled, understood, and then held up as signposts pointing the way to a truthful life. In this manner, I could transcend the ‘Thuggism of Ideas’ prevalent in evangelical Christianity and Conservatism (this was the 1980’s; the term ‘neo-con’ was not yet a part of the daily vernacular, this was the real deal).
Much of my youth and early adulthood was spent trying to reconcile multiple different aesthetic and religious frameworks and mash them together (a love for the Grateful Dead with a love for Black Flag for example, or Gnostic Christianity and the Old Testament, or Jean-Michel Basquiat and Mark Rothko—the list is fairly long).
In retrospect, these pursuits were just easy ways to lose oneself for months or years at a time. What mattered not was the assemblage of these items; what mattered was the enjoyment of them. A few steps further, however, takes us to Rorty’s conclusion that no matter how much we enjoy Proust or Yeats or wild flowers, Dewey’s community of human solidarity and secularist society make these artistic achievements orchidaceous extras.
In the end, I lacked the intellectual fortitude—let’s face it, I can be rather lazy—to assemble something along the lines of Rorty’s pragmatism. But I still like to think of Rorty as the strong man at the circus and I recall the lines to Superchunk’s “1000 Pounds”:
“Now you wish you weighed a thousand pounds / So you could crush all those bullies and demons down / From your seat at the back of the bus / You’re still waving back at us.”