# data[].attributes.headline
Kierion #1968 #DimosTheos #filmmaker # situationist #Kostas Sfikas

# data[].attributes.subject
Kierion #1968 #DimosTheos #filmmaker # situationist #Kostas Sfikas

# data[].attributes.body
Greece, 1968. Police takes into custody leftist journalist, Aimos Vagenas, for the murder of his American colleague George Polk. Polk was supposed to interview Markos Vafeiadis, leading figure of the Communist Party of Greece (KKE) during the Greek Civil War. The night before the interview Polk leaves his hotel room and after then he disappears. After a few days police finds his dead body into the sea. Vagenas guilt couldn't prove true and he is released. He starts to investigate the case while questions about Polk's death are still unanswered.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
Greece, 1948. Police takes into custody leftist journalist, Aimos Vagenas, for the murder of his American colleague George Polk. Polk was supposed to interview Markos Vafeiadis, leading ... See full summary "

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Directed by Dimos Theos. With Anestis Vlahos, Kyriakos Katzourakis, Eleni Theofilou, Dimos Starenios. Greece, 1948. Police takes into custody leftist journalist, Aimos Vagenas, for the murder of his American colleague George Polk. Polk was supposed to interview Markos Vafeiadis, leading figure of the Communist Party of Greece (KKE) during the Greek Civil War.

# data[].attributes.body
#1968 #LindaNochlin #ArtNewsAnnual1968

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
Linda Nochlin, who died this past weekend at age 86, was one of art history's greatest scholars. Most remember Nochlin for her incisive feminist criticism-her 1971 essay "Why Have There Been No Great Women Artists?" is essential reading-but her essays about 19th-century French art, particularly those about Realism, have also made their mark on art history. In memory of Nochlin, we have republished her essay "The Invention of the Avant-Garde: France, 1830-1880," which first appeared in the 1968 ARTnews Annual, the loose theme of which was the avant-garde writ large. (The essay was later re-printed in Nochlin's famed essay collection The Politics of Vision: Essays on Nineteenth-Century Art and Society.) In the essay, Nochlin traces the ways the Romanticists, the Realists, the early Impressionists, and others created a vanguard of artists who broke away from salon-style work and exhibited art that provoked, both stylistically and conceptually. Her essay follows in full below. -Alex Greenberger
"The Invention of the Avant-Garde: France, 1830-1880"
By Linda Nochlin
1968ARTnews Annual
"Art changes only through strong convictions, convictions strong enough to change society at the same time." So proclaimed Théophile Thoré, quarante-huitard critic, admirer of Théodore Rousseau, Millet, and Courbet, an art historian who discovered Vermeer and one of the spokesmen for a new, more democratic art, in 1855, in exile from Louis Napoleon's imperial France. Whether or not one agrees with Thoré's assertion, it is certainly typical in its equation of revolutionary art and revolutionary politics of progressive thought in the visual arts at the middle of the nineteenth century. Seven years earlier, in the euphoric days following the 1848 Revolution, a new dawn for art had been seriously predicated upon the progressive ideals of the February uprising. At the time the most important art journal of France, L'Artiste, in its issue of March 12, 1848, extolled the "genius of liberty" which had revived "the eternal flames of art" (obviously it had been less effective in reviving the rhetorical power of its writers), and the next week, Clément de Ris, writing in the same periodical, while slightly chagrined by the mediocrity of the first "liberated" Salon, nevertheless maintained that "in the realm of art, as in that of morals, social thought and politics, barriers are falling and the horizon is expanding." Even Théophile Gautier, certainly not an apostle of radicalism either in art or politics, took the opportunity to sing a hymn of praise to the new era in the pages of the same periodical. The ages of Pericles, Leo X, or Louis XIV were nothing, he maintained, compared to the present epoch. "Can a great, free people do less for art than an Attic village, a pope or a king?" The question, obviously, is rhetorical.

Delacroix was generally the painter to whom progressive critics looked for a fulfillment of the revolutionary ideals of the 1848 uprising; as early as March, Thoré, in Le Constitutionel, expressed the hope that Delacroix would paint L'Egalité sur les barricades de février as a pendant to his allegory of the revolutionary ideals of the 1830, Liberty at the Barricades, which had been taken out of storage and placed on exhibition following the February uprising. Both Daumier and Millet entered the revolutionary government's contest for a representation of the Republic, while Courbet, who toyed with this idea, also seriously considered taking part in the national competition for a popular song.

The very term "avant-garde" was first used figuratively to designate radical or advanced society in both the artist and social realms. It was in this sense that it was first employed by the French Utopian socialist Henri de Saint-Simon, in the third decade of the nineteenth century, when he designated artists, scientists, and industrialists as the elite leadership of a new social order:

It is we artists who will serve you as avant-garde [Saint-Simon has his artist proclaim in an imaginary dialogue between the latter and a scientist] . . . the power of the artists is in fact most immediate and most rapid: when we wish to spread ideas among men, we inscribe them on marble or on canvas. . . . What a magnificent destiny for the arts is that of exercising a positive power over society, a true priestly function, and of marching forcefully in the van of all the intellectual faculties . . . ! ¹

The priority of the radical revolutionary implication of the term "avant-garde" rather than the purely esthetic one more usually applied in the twentieth century, and the relation of this political meaning to the artistic subsidiary one, is again made emphatically clear in this passage by the Fourierist art critic and theorist Laverdant, in his De la Mission de l'art et du rôle des artistes of 1845:

Art, the expression of society, manifests, in its highest soaring, the most advanced social tendencies: it is the forerunner and the revealer. Therefore to know whether art worthily fulfills its proper mission as initiator, whether the artist is truly of the avant-garde, one must know where Humanity is going, know what the destiny of the human race is . . . ²

César Daly, editor of the Revue générale de l'architecture, used a similar military term, éclaireur, or "scout," in the 1840s, when he said that the journal must "fulfill an active mission of 'scouting the path of the future,' " a mission both socially and artistically advanced. 3 Baudelaire, after a brief flirtation with radical politics in 1848-he had actually fought on the barricades and shortly after, in 1851, had written a eulogistic introduction to the collected Chants et chansons of the left-wing worker-poet Pierre Dupont, condemning the "puerile utopia of the art-for-art's sake school," praising the "popular convictions" and "love of humanity" expressed in the poet's pastoral, political, and socialistic songs ⁴-later mocked the politico-military implications of the term "avant-garde" in Mon Coeur mis à nu, written in 1862-64. ⁵

Certainly the painter who best embodies the dual implications-both artistically and politically progressive-of the original usage of the term "avant-garde" is Gustave Courbet and his militantly radical Realism. "Realism," Courbet declared flatly, "is democracy in art." He saw his destiny as a continual vanguard action against the forces of academicism in art and conservatism in society. His summarizing masterpiece, The Painter's Studio, is a crucial statement of the most progressive political views in the most advanced formal and iconographic terms available in the middle of the nineteenth century.

Courbet quite naturally expected the radical artist to be at war with the ruling forces of society and at times quite overtly, belligerently, and with obvious relish challenged the Establishment to a head-on confrontation. 6 The idea of the artist as an outcast from society, rejected and misunderstood by a philistine, bourgeois social order was of course not a novelty by the middle of the nineteenth century. The advanced, independent artist as a martyr of society was a standard fixture of Romantic hagiography, apotheosized in Vigny's Chatterton, and he had been immortalized on canvas by at least two obscure artists by the middle of the nineteenth century; both of these paintings serve to remind us that there is no necessary connection between advanced social or political ideas and pictorial adventurousness. The sculptor Antoine Etex's unfortunate Death of a Misunderstood Man of Genius (now in Lyons, one of the many crosses which French provincial museums seem destined to bear) was deservedly castigated by Baudelaire in his Salon of 1845, and is an obvious and derivative reference both to Chatterton and the dead Christ or Christian martyr. Somewhat more successful, because more concrete and straightforward, is an English variation on the theme of the artist as a social martyr, Henry Wallis's Death of Chatterton, and overtly sentimental and marvelously detailed costume piece, praised by Ruskin in his 1856 Academy Notes as "faultless and wonderful." ⁷

It is not until seven years after the 1848 Revolution that the advanced social ideals of the mid-nineteenth century are given expression in appropriately advanced pictorial and iconographic form, in Courbet's The Painter's Studio. Its truly innovating qualities are perhaps best revealed by comparison with the "revolutionary" painting of the uprising of 1830, Delacroix's Liberty at the Barricades, a work conservative in both the political and the esthetic sense-that is to say, nostalgically Bonapartist in its ideology and heavily dependent upon mythological prototypes by Delacroix's Neoclassical teacher, Guérin, for its iconography and composition. On the other hand, democratic and humanitarian passions seem to have been no more a guarantee of pictorial originality in the case of the Revolution of 1830 than they were to be in that of 1848. Although Philippe-Auguste Jeanron was far more politically radical than Delacroix, his The Little Patriots: A Souvenir of July 1830, which appeared in the 1831 Salon, is obviously a watered-down, sugar-coated reworking of Delacroix's romantic, Molochistic allegory Greece Expiring on the Ruins of Missolonghi, which had been exhibited at the Musée Colbert in Paris in 1829 and 1830. Jeanron, a close friend of Thoré, was later named director of the National Museums under the 1848 Revolutionary Government, and he accomplished miracles of reorganization and democratization during his brief incumbency. Yet, as is so often the case, good intentions are no guarantee of innovating, or even memorable, imagery. Despite contemporary and localizing references in The Little Patriots, such as the dome of the Pantheon in the background or the paving-stone barricade to the left, the pall of the academic poncif hangs heavier over the painting than the smoke of revolutionary fervor; one is made all too aware, in the pose of the little patriot in the center-reminiscent of that of Donatello's David, and so appropriate in its iconographic implications-that Jeanron was an art historian as well as an artist.

Certainly, there had been no dearth of paintings with socially significant, reformist, or even programmatically socialist themes in the years between the Revolution of 1830 and that of 1848. In 1835, Gleyre planned a three-part painting to be titled The Past, the Present and the Future, represented by, respectively, a king and a priest signing a pact of alliance; a bourgeois, idly stretched on a divan, receiving the produce of his fields and his factories; and The People receiving the revenues of all the nation. In the Salon of 1837, Bézard exhibited a social allegory, rather transparently titled The Race of the Wicked Rules over the Earth, and in the 1843 Salon, the versatile (or perhaps eclectic) Papety exhibited his controversial Dream of Happiness (now in the Musée Vivenel in Compiegne). In 1845, Victor Robert exhibited Religion, Philosophy, the Sciences and the Arts Enlightening Europe, while in 1846, no less a figure than Baudelaire himself deigned to notice the Universal Charity of Laemlein, a bizarre confection representing a personification of Charity holding in her arms three children: "one is of the white race, the other red, the third black; a fourth child, a little Chinese, typifying the yellow race, walks by her side." ⁹ Works such as these of course lent themselves perfectly to satire: both Musset and Balzac made fun of the ambitions of the apocalyptic and Fourierist painters, probably basing their caricatures on that learned and mystical pasticheur of universal panaceas, Paul-Joseph Chenavard. ¹⁰

Yet one of these allegorical, socially progressive artists working prior to 1848 is worth examining more closely, if only to lend higher relief to the truly advanced qualities of Courbet's postrevolutionary Studio: this is the little-known Dominique Papety (1815-1849), for a time one of Chenavard's assistants, dismissed by Baudelaire in his 1846 Salon under the rubric "On Some Doubters," as "serious-minded and full of great goodwill," hence, "deserving of pity.' " ¹¹ What is interesting about Papety is that he was a Fourierist, and Courbet's Studio is among other things a Fourierist as well as a Realist allegory. Yet in the difference in conception, composition, and attitude between Papety's allegory and that of Courbet lies the enormous gap between painting which is advanced in subject but conventional in every other way and that which is truly of its time, or even in advance of it (to use the term "avant-garde" in its most literal sense) and hence, a pictorial paradigm of the most adventurous attitudes of its era. Papety's Fourierist convictions were stated in a language so banal that his Rêve de bonheur, although Fourierist in inspiration, looks almost exactly like Ingres's apolitical Golden Age or Puvis de Chavannes's Bois sacré; the elements identifying it with contemporary social thought are completely extraneous to the basic composition. While a critic of 1843 saw "a club, a people's bank or a phalanstery" in "this dream of the gardens of Academe," and noted the unusual amalgamation of Horace's Odes and Plato's dialogues with the steamship and the telegraph, the expendability of these contemporary elements is revealed when L'Artiste announces that Papety, on the basis of critical advice, has replaced his steamboat with a Greek temple, "which," remarks the anonymous critic, with unconscious irony, "is perhaps more ordinary but also more severe than socialism in painting." ¹²

The link-and the gap-between Courbet and Papety is most clearly revealed by comparing the Studio with Papety's ambitious plan for a truly doctrinaire Fourierist painting, The Last Evening of Slavery, executed about 1848 for a fellow Harmonian, François Sabatier, of Montpellier, a friend and supporter of Courbet and a close associate of the latter's patron, Alfred Bruyas, himself an apostle of the New (Fourierist) Harmony. Courbet's Studio may be seen in part as a translation into contemporary, concrete, personal terms of the Fourierist generalizations written in red letters beneath the sketch itself, of Papety's grandiose but never completed project. Courbet doubtless had become familiar with Papety's sketch during the course of his visit of 1854 to Bruyas, an eccentric who envisioned himself as a "salesman of the New Harmony" and actually went so far as to publish an abortive Fourierist tract, Notes d'Harmonie. ¹³ During the summer of 1854 Courbet visited Sabatier on his estate at Tour de Farges near Montpellier, where he drew Sabatier's portrait in black pencil. Sabatier, while highly appreciative of Papety's works, had already written a eulogistic account of Courbet's Burial at Ornans and Peasants of Flagey in his Salon of 1851, praising their truthfulness, dignity, and democratic spirit. Sabatier-poet, linguist, translator, and knowledgeable amateur of music and the theater-was married to Caroline Ungher, one of the great singers of the epoch. A warm friend of the arts, he was also deeply concerned with the lot of the poor and the humble; as a partisan supporter of the 1848 revolution he was forced to flee Paris during the terrible days of June, when the forces of reaction took their revenge. He practiced the doctrines of Fourierist "Association" mainly by his support and encouragement of artists such as Eugene Deveria, Chenavard, Hebert, and, above all, Papety. On his family estate, he cultivated his vineyards or drew up plans for phalansteries. No doubt, the ambitious sketch executed by Papety was at least in part suggested to him by his Harmonian patron, who in turn showed the drawing to Courbet and discussed the ideas embodied in it with him. Courbet himself was certainly a staunch partisan of socialist thought, partly because of his close association with the anarchist revolutionary P.-J. Proudhon, who had been deeply influenced by Fourier as a young man and had supervised the printing of one of Fourier's books. More specifically, in his fragmentary autobiography of 1866 Courbet notes that by 1840 he had left behind his youthful training in order to follow socialists of all sects, and that "once arrived in Paris, he was a Fourierist." ¹⁴ In 1850, he had represented the Fourierist missionary Jean Journet going off to spread the gospel of Universal Harmony. In a sense, then, one might say that Papety's mediocre and pedantic drawing offered Courbet a challenge: whether he could translate Papety's academic classicism into a pictorial language of his own time derived from his personal experience.

Art historians have always been hard-pressed to explain both the inspiration and specific implications of Courbet's Studio. It seems to me that a Fourierist interpretation, in conjunction with Papety's drawing, while it in no sense completely "explains" Courbet's allegory, at least helps to elucidate some of its otherwise inexplicable aspects: for example, just why Courbet chose to include the figures he did in his vast composition. Papety's sketch stipulates the depiction of "Scholars who have made the hour of Harmony [the final stage of Fourierist evolution] advance" and "Artists and poets swept up by enthusiasm [a specifically Fourierist term]"; the entire right-hand side of Courbet's painting consists of artists, critics, and philosophers who, in his opinion, have played an important role in the formulation of the new world. Papety mentions a "great strong man"; Courbet depicts a doughty athlete. Papety specifies a crowd of workers; Courbet, with greater economy, gives us a laborer and his wife. Papety mentions a "sick, worn-out worker"; Courbet has depicted "a poor, weather-beaten old man" in his left-hand group. Papety presents religious figures in a derogatory light; for Courbet, the rabbi and the priest in the Studio are personifications of self-satisfaction and hypocrisy. Papety had planned to represent "an aristocratic group surveying the scene"; Courbet placed two elegantly dressed visitors or spectators in the foreground. The Harmonian Leader, who was to have occupied the center of Papety's composition, is of course Courbet himself, the artist, busily engaged in creating a landscape in the center of his painting.

Even aside from the specific analogies between Courbet's canvas and Papety's drawing, further elements link the Studio with Fourierist conceptions: for example, the Fourierist ideal of the Association of Capital, of Labor, and of Talent is clearly embodied in Courbet's iconographic scheme. Fourier's system depends on a series of complex correspondences among the natural, the physical, the psychological, and the social realms. For example, the Four Affective Passions, cornerstones of the Fourierist system-Friendship, Love, Ambition, and Family Feeling-correspond to the four ages of life: Childhood, Adolescence, Maturity, and Old Age, all embodied by figures in Courbet's painting. Yet there is actually a fifth stage, to be inserted between that of adolescence (sixteen to thirty-five) and that of maturity (forty-six to sixty-five years), a phase which, according to Fourier, does not count in this system since it is the pivot, and the pivot never counts in the calculation of movement. That is the phase of virility, from thirty-six to forty-five years, to which correspond the Affective Passions of both Love and Ambition-in other words, the plenitude of life. Now interestingly enough Courbet reached his thirty-sixth birthday in 1855, the year of the Universal Exposition, for which the Studio had been planned and in which it was completed; Courbet is indeed, quite literally, the pivot of the painting, the immovable center around which all pictorial activity takes place; in addition he is flanked by an adoring nude muse (Love?) and is looked up to by an equally admiring little boy (Ambition?). The cat, incidentally, was one of Fourier's favorite animals, although the presence of the elegant and eminently paintable animal in the foreground can hardly be accounted for in terms of doctrine.

One of the most puzzling minor sidelights of Courbet's composition is the significance of the little boy scribbling a picture, a later insertion whose presence has been accounted for both as a mere space filler-to balance the still-life objects on the left-hand side-and as a personification of the newly awakened interest in the art of children associated with the Swiss artist Rodolphe Topffer. Yet here again a Fourierist interpretation best accounts for this figure. Fourier was extraordinarily interested in the nature and development of children and in formulating an appropriate pedagogical system designed to take advantage of their innate inclinations and at the same time foster the well-being of the phalanstery as a whole. One of the five major dispositions of children observed by Fourier, and one of those most worthy of cultivation in his opinion, was la singerie, or "the mania for imitation." Children, according to Fourier, should have their own little tools, their own small-scaled workshops, where, under the tutelage of their elders their natural imitative propensities might best be put to productive ends. Surely the little boy diligently working away on his crude drawing is learning through imitation; initiated by a master painter, he himself will become one of the masters of the future.

Yet still another question remains to be answered about the mysterious and provocative iconography of the Studio. If Francois Sabatier was indeed a crucial figure in the conception of the painting both as a follower of Fourier and as the owner of the Papety sketch which provided at least partial inspiration for Courbet's masterpiece, why is Sabatier not represented in the work itself, as are such other crucial figures in Courbet's career and thought as Champfleury, Bruyas, Baudelaire, and Proudhon? It is my contention that Sabatier is indeed present [3], although only partially; he may well be the half-hidden husband of the elegantly dressed woman in the foreground, the wealthy patron come to survey the scene. Certainly the line of hair and beard and the little tuft of hair that protrudes on the forehead are similar to these features in the black pencil drawing in the Musée Fabre in Montpellier. Further investigation would of course be necessary to establish the identity of the elegant wife in her flowered shawl with Caroline Ungher Sabatier and that of the man who accompanies her with other securely identified portraits of Sabatier. Nevertheless, even without such assurance the identification is a tempting one.

Courbet's painting is "avant-garde" if we understand the expression, in terms of its etymological derivation, as implying a union of the socially and the artistically progressive. Far from being an abstract treatise on the latest social ideas, it is a concrete emblem of what the making of art and the nature of society are to the Realist artist. It is through Courbet, the specific artist, the Harmonian demiurge, that all the figures partake of the life of this pictorial world, and all are related to his direct experience; they are not traditional, juiceless abstractions like Truth or Immortality, nor are they generalized platitudes like the Spirit of Electricity or the Nike of the Telegraph; it is, on the contrary, their concreteness which gives them credibility and conviction as tropes in a "real allegory," as Courbet subtitled the work, and which, in addition, ties them indissolubly to a particular moment in history.

While one might well reply that Ingres's Apotheosis of Homer is as irrevocably bound to the same historical moment as Courbet's Studio, even though it attempts to establish universal values and eternal verities, in the case of Ingres's work this is despite rather than because of the intentions of the artist; one might almost say that as far as Ingres was concerned, to be of one's time was a measure of failure rather than of achievement. By the middle of the nineteenth century the distinction between the contemporary and the avant-garde has already begun to make itself felt. Ingres's painting is, of course, in no sense "advanced"; it merely smells of its epoch to trained art-historical nostrils, as does all art.

Yet if we take "avant-garde" out of its quotation marks, we must come to the conclusion that what is generally implied by the term begins with Manet rather than Courbet. For implicit-and perhaps even central-to our understanding of avant-gardism is the concept of alienation-psychic, social, ontological-utterly foreign to Courbet's approach to art and to life. While Courbet may have begun his career as a rebel and ended it as an exile, he was never an alienated man-that is, in conflict with himself internally or distanced from his true social situation externally, as were such near-contemporaries as Flaubert, Baudelaire, and Manet. For them, their very existence as members of the bourgeoisie was problematic, isolating them not merely from existing social and artistic institutions but creating deeply felt internal dichotomies as well.

In other words, their birth into the middle class was a source of internal as well as external alienation. Such a situation would have been utterly foreign to Courbet, who proudly accepted and even exaggerated his provincial petty-bourgeois background into something overtly plebeian and rustic, emphasizing his regional patois and the simplicity and directness, if not outright coarseness, of his manner.

With Manet, the situation becomes far more complicated. For the first time, we are confronted with an oeuvre which, like the dandy himself (who was originally postulated as the human equivalent of a work of art), lives completely autonomously, as gratuitous and noncommunicative as Baudelaire's frigid incarnation of Beauty. How can one possibly take Manet at his word-and does he, in fact, wish us to?-when, in the catalogue statement for his private exhibition of 1867, he assures us that it is merely the "sincerity" of his works that gives them their "character of protest," or when he pretends to be shocked at the hostility with which the public has greeted them. "Manet has never wished to protest. It is rather against him who did not expect it that people have protested. . . ." These words ring hollow in the face of such outright affronts to public sensibility as Déjeuner sur l'herbe [4] or Olympia. What has never been sufficiently taken into account by "serious" criticism is the character of these works as monumental and ironic put-ons, blagues, a favorite form of destructive wit of the period, inflated to gigantic dimensions-pictorial versions of those endemic pranks which threatened to destroy all serious values, to profane and vulgarize the most sacred verities of the times. Significantly enough Manet, greatly at ease with "popular" turns of phrase, employs the term blague at least six times in the course of his (rather brief) recorded pronouncements." The Goncourt brothers devote a rich and rhetorical paragraph in Manette Salomon to a discussion of the blague:

The farcical Credo of scepticism, the Parisian revolt of disillusionment, the light and boyish formula of blasphemy, the great modern form, impious and charivaresque, of universal doubt and national pyrrhonism; the blague of the nineteenth century, that great destroyer, that great revolutionary, that poisoner of faith, killer of respect ... ¹⁷

No wonder, then, that an outraged critic, no worse than most, exclaimed before Le Bain, as the Dejeuner was known in 1863: "This is a young man's practical joke." And indeed, the Dejeuner sur l'herbe, with Manet's brother, brother-in-law-to-be, and favorite model, Victorine, staring blandly out of the decor of Giorgione's venerated pastoral idyll, their elegant contemporary costume-or lack of it-making a mockery of the "timeless" Raphaelesque composition, must have seemed as full of protest and constituted as destructive and vicious a gesture as that of Marcel Duchamp when he painted a mustache on the Mona Lisa.

For Manet and for the avant-garde, as opposed to the men of 1848, the relation of the artist to society was a phenomenological rather than a social fact. He was involved in both the society and the political events of his time-his project for the mural decoration of the new Hôtel de Ville in Paris, with its series of compositions representing "Le Ventre de Paris" of 1879, his paintings The Execution of Maximilian and The Escape of Rochefort [5], as well as his activities during the siege of Paris and the Commune, bear witness both to his involvement and to his desire for accuracy of reportage. But Manet's works can hardly be considered direct statements of a specific viewpoint or position. Quite often they seem more like embodiments of his own essential feeling of alienation from the society of his times, a dandyish coolness toward immediate experience, mitigated either by art or by irony, or his own inimitable combination of both. The most authentic statement of Manet's sense of his situation as a man and as an artist may well be his two versions, painted in 1881, of The Escape of Rochefort, in my opinion unconscious or disguised self-images, where the equivocal radical leader, hardly an outright hero by any standards, is represented in complete isolation from nature and his fellow men: he is, in fact, not even recognizably present in one of the paintings of his escape from New Caledonia. It is no longer a question of the Romantic hero in the storm-tossed boat; there is no ideological or physical contrast between controlled serenity and natural passion in Manet's paintings, as there is in their prototype, Delacroix's Christ on the Sea of Galilee. And even here, it must be noted, the faintest ghost of blague enters into the tone of the painting, with its open, ultra-Impressionist brushwork and vague, Chaplinesque figure at the rudder. The isolation here is built into the imagery, as it is in Manet's whimsical single stalk of asparagus, his lone rose, his centralized pickle jar: it is not the result of the observation of a specific social situation, it is an artful and pathetic statement of how it is to be an artist, how it is simply to be in the world at all.

This vision of isolation receives its apotheosis in A Bar at the Folies-Bergère [6], perhaps the most poignant image of alienation ever painted, a deadly serious spoof of Watteau's Gilles in completely modern "naturalist" terms, the anonymous yet concrete figure trapped between the world of tangible things and that of impalpable reflections, existing only as a way station between life and art. It is upon just such bad faith and alienation and the marvelously inventive, destructive, and self-destructive ways of making art about them that the modern avant-garde has built ever since. This is far indeed from Courbet's unified and unselfconscious vision of art and society-and his own direct and unambiguous relation to both-the the 1855 the Painter's Studio: A Real Allegory of Seven Ywears of My Life as an Artist.

1. Henri de Saint-Simon, Opinions litteraires, philosophiques et industrielles (Paris, 1825), cited in Donald D. Egbert, "The Idea of 'Avant-garde' in Art and Politics," The American Historical Review 73, no. 2 (December 1967): 343.

2. Cited by Renato Poggioli, The Theory of the Avant-garde, trans. Gerald Fitzgerald (Cambridge, Mass., 1968), p.9

3. Cited by Peter Collins, Changing Ideals in Modern Architecture: 1750-1950 (London, 1965), pp.261-62.

4. "Pierre Dupont," originally published 1851, Baudelaire, Oeuvres complètes, ed. Y.-G. Le Dantee and C. Pichois (Paris, 1961), pp. 605, 612, 614

5. Poggioli, op. cit., p. 10.

6. See, for example, his deliberately provocative behavior toward the Comte de Nieuwerkerke, Director-General of the Imperial Museums, and his activities related to the Vendume column incident during the Commune.

7. Collected Works, ed. E. T. Cook and A. Wedderburn (London, 1902-12), XIV, p. 6o. The painting is now in the Tate Gallery.

8. See Pierre Gaudibert's extremely interesting analysis of Delacroix's essential conservatism, "Eugene Delacroix et le romantisme révolutionnaire: A Propos de La Liberté sur les barricades," Europe 41 ( April 1963): 4-21. For Guerin's i nfluence on the Liberty, see Sixten Ringbom, "Guerin, Delacroix and 'The Liberty," Burlington Magazine no (1968): 270-74.

9. For the best source of information about these socially conscious painters prior to 1848, see Leon Rosenthal, Du Romantisme au realisme, (Paris, 1914), pp. 345-98. Also, Joseph C. Sloane, French Painting Between the Past and the Present (Princeton, N.J., 1951), passim.

10. For a complete account of this fascinating failure, see Joseph C. Sloane, Paul Marc Joseph Chenavard (Chapel Hill, N.C., 1962).

11. "Salon of 1846," Art in Paris: 1845-1862, ed. and trans. J. Mayne (London, 1965), p. 101.

12. L'Artiste, June 2, 1844, p. 80.

13. For information on Bruyas and Sabatier see Montpellier, Musée Fabre, Dessins de la collection Alfred Bruyas (1962), introd. Jean Claparede (Inventaire des Collections Publiques Frangaises, 6), n.p.

14. "Biographie de Courbet par lui-mime," in Courbet raconté par lui-même et par ses amis, ed. P. Courthion (Geneva, 1950), II, p. 27.

15. Meyer Schapiro was the first to make this connection between Courbet's little boy and Topffer's i deas about the art of children, in "Courbet and Popular Imagery," Warburg Journal 4 (1941): 178 and n. 4.

16. Manet raconté par lui-même et par ses amis, ed. P. Courthion (Geneva, 1945), pp. 27, 28, 30, 162, and passim.

17. Edmond and Jules de Goncourt, Manette Salomon, preface by Hubert Juin (Paris: Editions 1o/18, 1979), pp. 42-43

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
From the Archives: Linda Nochlin on the Invention of the 19th-Century French Avant-Garde, in 1968

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Linda Nochlin, who died this past weekend at age 86, was one of art history's greatest scholars. Most remember Nochlin for her incisive feminist criticism-her 1971 essay "Why Have There Been No Great Women Artists?" is essential reading-but her essays about 19th-century French art, particularly those about Realism, have also made their mark on art history.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Late August at the Hotel Ozone (1967) - Jan Schmidt

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
A troupe of young women on post-apocalyptic earth are lead around by a mistress born before the war, eventually stumbling into the company of a lonely old man. Director: Jan Schmidt Writers: Pavel Jurácek (screenplay), Pavel Jurácek (story) Stars: Vladimír Hlavatý, Jitka Horejsi, Ondrej Jariabek http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0061879/?ref_=nv_sr_1

# data[].attributes.body
Joseph Beuys #1968

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Joseph Beuys - Greetings from the Eurasian | Programme | M HKA, Museum of Contemporary Art Antwerp

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
The exhibition Joseph Beuys - Greetings from the Eurasian will seek simultaneously to consider Beuys’ activities in Antwerp during the 1960s and ‘70s, alongside considering his relevance to a new generation. Joseph Beuys was active in Antwerp during the 1960s and 1970s through his relationship with Wide White Space gallery, for whom he was a key reference.

# data[].attributes.headline
James Baldwin on the distinction between  'power and equality' and 'power and freedom'...

# data[].attributes.subject
James Baldwin on the distinction between  'power and equality' and 'power and freedom'...

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
One often hears lamented the lack of well-spoken public intellectuals in America today. Very often, the lamenters look back to James Baldwin, who in the 1950s and 1960s wrote such powerful race-, class-, and sex-examining books as Go Tell It on the Mountain , Giovanni's Room , and The Fire Next Time, as one of the greatest figures in the field.Though Baldwin expatriated himself to France for much of his life, he seems never to have let the state of his homeland drift far from his mind, and his opinions on it continued to put a charge into the grand American debate.

Upon one return from Paris in 1957, Baldwin found himself wrapped up in the controversy around the Civil Rights Act and the related movements across the south. He wrote several high-profile essays on the subject, even ending up himself the subject of a 1963 Time magazine cover story on his views. That same year, he went on a lecture tour on race in America which put him in close contact with a variety of student movements and other protests, whose efficacy he and Malcolm X debated in the broadcast above.

"While Malcolm X criticized the sit-in movement as passive," writes Rhonda Y. Williams in Concrete Demands: The Search for Black Power in the 20th Century , "Baldwin argued that 'maintaining calm in the face of vitriol demands a tremendous amount of power.'" He goes on to say that "when the sit-in movement started or when a great many things started in the western world, I think it had a great deal less to do with equality than with power." This got him wondering about what he saw as the all-important distinction between "power and equality" and "power and freedom."

Two years later, Baldwin appeared in another high-profile debate with about as different an interlocutor from Malcolm X as one can imagine: Firing Line host William F. Buckley, across from whom every well-spoken public intellectual in America of that era must have sat at one time or another. They discussed whether the American Dream comes "at the expense of the American negro." Buckley, as Josh Jones wrote here in 2012, "had come out four years earlier against desegregation and Civil Rights legislation" and could ably defend his positions, but "Baldwin proved the more persuasive voice."

Dissecting the skills of Baldwin the debater, John Warner of Inside Higher Education writes that "Baldwin's remarks display all the skill and moves of an expert persuader" such as "the attendance to audience, the acknowledgement of their needs, the combination of both emotional and logical argument." His arguments also have their roots not in "attitudes or beliefs, which are varied and changeable, but values, which are widely shared and immutable."

Baldwin, Warner continues, "reminds us that America is the land of the free, the home of the brave, that all men are created equal, that we are here to pursue life, liberty, happiness," but "while these values are powerful and timeless, our understanding of how they may be best achieved, the conditions under which they can be fostered change all the time." Whether on the air or in text, against Malcolm X, William F. Buckley, or anyone else, his performance in debate shows that "the best and most lasting persuasion is simply the act of reminding people of what they already believe to be true."
Related Content: James Baldwin Bests William F. Buckley in 1965 Debate at Cambridge University James Baldwin: Witty, Fiery in Berkeley, 1979 Malcolm X, Debating at Oxford, Quotes Shakespeare's Hamlet (1964) Malcolm X at Oxford University 1964 Colin Marshall writes on cities, language, Asia, and men's style. He's at work on a book about Los Angeles, A Los Angeles Primer, and the video series The City in Cinema. Follow him on Twitter at @colinmarshall or on Facebook.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
James Baldwin Debates Malcolm X (1963) and William F. Buckley (1965): Vintage Video & Audio

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
One often hears lamented the lack of well-spoken public intellectuals in America today.

# data[].attributes.headline
M&S first sold printed bras and girdles in 1968. They offered 'high cut models that bolster the rear'! #1960s #truevintage #lingerie @MandSHeritage 

# data[].attributes.subject
M&S first sold printed bras and girdles in 1968. They offered 'high cut models that bolster the rear'! #1960s #truevintage #lingerie @MandSHeritage 

# data[].attributes.headline
#Invasion #Prague #1968 #Photographs #Josef #Koudelka

# data[].attributes.subject
#Invasion #Prague #1968 #Photographs #Josef #Koudelka

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
The events leading up to the 1968 Warsaw Pact invasion of Czechoslovakia were, for many observers looking back, inevitable. After two decades of oppressive Communist rule under the auspices of the Soviet regime, the country was ready for radical change. When Alexander Dubček was elected as First Secretary of the Communist Party of Czechoslovakia the politician seized the opportunity for democratic reform. A period of 'liberalization' known as the Prague Spring was enacted, allowing an expansion of citizen civil rights and liberties, partial democratization, and decentralization of the economy. Restrictions on press freedom, travel and free-speech were also loosened. All much to the vexation of the USSR, who, in between failed negotiations with Dubček, watched closely. On August 21, 1968, f orces from five of the countries grouped in the Warsaw Pact invaded . Tanks flooded Prague's streets as residents buffered the sidewalks and buildings, protecting the Czechoslovak Radio Centre and destroying street-signs to misdirect the Eastern Bloc invaders. During the political turbulence, Josef Koudelka was moved to document his country during the upheaval. Here, he recalls the events of that defining year and the story behind his beginnings as a Magnum photographer-as published in Magnum Stories (Phaidon, 2014).
The Russian invasion of Czechoslovakia in August 1968 concerned my life directly. It was my country. I took these photographs for myself, not for a magazine. It was only by chance that they were published. I wasn't a reporter. I had never photographed anything that you would call 'news'. Suddenly, for the first time in my life, I was confronted with that kind of situation. I responded to it. I knew it was important to photograph, so I photographed. I didn't think much about what I was doing.

Later some people told me I could have been killed, but I hadn't considered that at the time. I don't think people who knew me thought I was able to photograph that sort of situation the way I had. Neither had I. Since then I've never lived through or photographed anything like that. During the invasion, I just took photographs but didn't develop them. There wasn't time for that. It was only later that I processed everything. I left behind some photographs with my friend Anna F á rov á . She showed them to various people, including Vacl á v Havel.

He offered to take them to America, where he had been invited by Arthur Miller. but then he was not allowed to go. Several photographs were taken out of the country by Eugene Ostroff, curator of the photography department at the Smithsonian Institution in Washington, who had been visiting Prague. In New York he showed them to his friend, the photographer Elliott Erwitt, who was then president of the Magnum photo agency and also a friend of F á rov á . Erwitt wanted to know whether there were other photographs apart from the ones he send seen, and whether I would be willing to send the negatives to Magnum.

I wasn't too keen to do that but F á rov á assured me that I didn't need to worry - this was a serious organization. In the end, the negatives got safely out of the country and arrived in New York. Magnum supervised the printing of the photographs and their distribution all over the world. They had to be published without my name and were prepared for publication in leading magazines of many countries to commemorate the first anniversary of the Russian invasion in August 1969. At the same time photographs were also assembled by Erwitt as a news clip for television.

I think the series of my photographs of the Russian invasion are important as a historical document, it shows what really happened in Czechoslovakia in 1968. But perhaps a few of the photographs - the best ones - are something more. They are the ones where it's not important who's Czech and who's Russian, the ones where the important thing is that one person has a gun and the other hasn't. And the one who hasn't is, in fact, the stronger.

In August 1969 I was in London with the Prague-based Theatre Behind the Gate , which was giving guest performances there. It was a Sunday morning. The photographs came out in the Sunday Times magazine, the supplement of a large newspaper in Britain. Members of the theatre company showed the magazine to each other. It was a strange feeling to see my photographs published and not to be able to tell anyone they were mine.

Later, during my stay in London I managed to get in touch with Erwitt in New York. We decided that Magnum should send a letter offering me a grant for three months to photograp gypsies in western Europe. After I had returned to Prague and the letter had arrived, I managed to put together all the necessary letters of recommendation. Then, a friend at the Czechoslovak Ministry of Culture helped me to obtain a passport with permission to stay abroad for 80 days. I left Czechoslovakia in May 1970. I wanted to see all the places where gypsies gather.

I began in the South of France at the gypsy pilgrimage in Les Saintes Maries de la Mer. From there, I went to the Epsom horse races near London, then to the Appleby horse fair on the Scottish border, and then to Ireland. When I passed through Paris, I visited the Magnum office. There they told me that, although my photographs were published without my name, it would not be difficult for the Czech police to find out who the photographer was. They advised me not to return to Prague. I decided to stay in England. In order to avoid reprisals against my family Magnum continued to distribute my photographs of the 1968 invasion without mentioning my name. Only after the death of my father did I admit that they were mine. It was on the occasion of my first big exhibition at the Hayward Gallery in London, in 1984, which was curated by Robert Delpire and organized by the Arts Council of Great Britain.

In Czechoslovakia, the photographs were published for the first time 22 years after they were taken, in a special supplement to the weekly , in August 1990. I was able to return to Czechoslovakia after the Velvet Revolution in 1989, where I made pictures in the 'Black Triangle'. I was fascinated by that landscape and it was just asking to be photographed by a panoramic camera.
(Excerpt from Magnum Stories, Phaidon)

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Josef Koudelka: The 1968 Prague Invasion * Magnum Photos Magnum Photos

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
On the 50th anniversary of the Soviet-led invasion of Czechoslovakia, Magnum photographer Josef Koudelka recalls the night the Prague Spring

# data[].attributes.headline
Do Impossible Things: 1968 and its legacies 

# data[].attributes.subject
Do Impossible Things: 1968 and its legacies 

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
In Front of the Radio Headquarters, Josef Koudelka

1968, like 1956 or 1989, is a year whose convulsive, combustible energies are ill-served by the commemoration industry. Every decade the archives are raided for stock footage: French students hurling stones at the police; a young woman, scantily dressed and swaying in blissed-out reverie at a rock festival; a famous actor or singer in the front row of a public march in some unspecified European capital.

The images are well-known, in black and white, as reassuring as an old family album. They're anniversary snaps, used as shorthand for a historical narrative that's taken as read: the transition from repression to freedom, from censorious illiberalism to social permissiveness, from gerontocratic, post-war consensus to a new youthquake that ushered in a counter-cultural glasnost.

There's an inevitability to the way that story is told that's at odds with the fractured turbulence of which it speaks. In the process, history becomes defanged, its frictions planed, its conjecturals and ellipses replaced by definitive statements. What results is, if not entirely fiction, a too-easily rattled-off list of tropes and well-known figures - Danny the Red, Oz magazine, baby boomers - that curdles into nostalgia: the revolution, now being televised, is over. History is at an end.

It's exactly that kind of coercive inertia against which the French farmers, workers and students who raised their voices in May 1968 were fighting. They were channelling and re-broadcasting a dissent that was global. Far from fashioning a version of rebellion that would later be exported to cities across the world, they were importing to and re-enacting in France the kinds of struggles already being waged by anti-colonialists and national-liberation revolutionaries in many different continents: in Cuba, Northern Ireland, even Mao Zedong 's China.

It's crucial, now more than ever, to deprovincialise 1968. To look at what happened in that year through an international lens. To do so is to honour the 'everything connects', United-Front idealism that galvanised many of those placard-carriers and barricades-manners. For, as Kristin Ross argues convincingly in May '68 and Its Afterlives (2002), 68-ism had been prefigured, or better still - incubated, by the protests that followed the slaughter by French police of hundreds of Algerians in 1961, a massacre in whose cover up the Government and the Press had colluded.

Equally catalytic was the war in Vietnam from which, almost daily, new reports emerged of the difficulties endured by American GIs in exerting their will there. Stories were being told, and images leaking, of villages being attacked and innocents maimed. Heroic and inspirational stories were also being told about the brave, canny strategies used by those villagers to evade and combat the enemy's ballistic might. It was clear to all but the most myopic chauvinists that crude anti-communism was being used as a front for national self-interest and neo-imperial territorialism.

By May 1968, exactly half way through the Tet Offensive, people in France knew, as did those in many other countries already, that their sense of who they were - or who, in the future, they might become - was in part determined by American power, both soft and hard. It's a lesson that, mired as we still are in an unpopular war in Iraq, as well as in the interminable War Against Terror, is just as bitter, just as important to grasp, and just as necessary to fight today.

"What is important is that the action took place, at a time when everyone judged it to be unthinkable. If it took place, then it can happen again." - Jean-Paul Sartre, from Les Communistes Ont Peur de la Revolution, 1968

1968 is often seen as the high point of student activism, a glorious explosion of youthful fervour: the uprisings at Nanterre, Hornsey and Frankfurt have come to symbolize the decade's will-to-action idealism. It's vital to remind ourselves that those uprisings reflected a broader dynamic, an international movement in which young men and women, more of whom were entering higher education than ever before, had begun to discover that universities, far from being emancipatory spaces, were playing key roles within a global military-industrial complex. These students bridled at how their colleges peddled anachronistic forms of knowledge, operated according to patronisingly hierarchical principles, and embodied rather than challenged the status quo. Soon they learned to value campuses as theatres for the dramatisation of social turbulence.

1968 did not initiate an era of campus rebellion; rather it continued to fly the flag for the idea of campus rebellions, conflagratory instances of which had flared up in Mexico City, Dakar and Bogota throughout the 1960s. Students worldwide had been at the forefront of campaigns against police violence, state repression and racial segregation. At universities in the Dominican Republic and in Ecuador they were gunned down for protesting against dictatorial regimes. All across Japan they marched for curricular reform and against US imperialism in Vietnam. Even now, that insurgent spirit has yet to be snuffed out, and has been evident in recent global justice, eco-consciousness and anti-war campaigns. It's present here and there, as a furtive rumour and a clarion call, as a physical presence and in digital form: in China, Iran, Kenya.

One of the most important '60s uprisings was that in Pakistan where university radicals, with the help of the labour movement, played a pivotal role in toppling President Ayub Khan. It's worth recalling that students haven't always seen any connection between their plights and those of the workers in the towns and cities in which they live. Too often they have allowed themselves to indulge in the fantasy that higher education is a pre-adult playground, a rarified space for homo ludens. But those black students who campaigned against Columbia University's real-estate incursions into public land occupied by low-paid Harlem residents, as well as those students in Turin who formed alliances with non-unionised migrant labourers at Fiat auto-assembly plants, were compelled by a very clear vision of the need for broader, non-sectarian coalitions, impelled by the belief that the struggle for better conditions and representation transcended flimsy student vs. worker factionalism.

Today that insight - and that commitment - is as important as it was 40 years ago. Since 1995, higher education has fallen under the General Agreement on Trade and Services, part of the liberalisation agenda of the World Trade Organisation, that, according to Andrew Ross in The University Against Itself (2008), seeks to impose "severe constraints on individual governments' rights to regulate education within their borders."

French protest

As more and more young people are shunted into a higher education system in which they are treated as consumers and clients rather than knowledge-seekers, in which the near-abolition of student grants forces them to take on a slew of low-paid jobs to subsidise their studies; in which they are taught by exhausted academics, a growing number of whom are on short-term contracts or who are forced to churn out desultory journal essays in order to placate the government's banal Research Assessment Exercises; in which departments are funded by corporations and big business to an extent that would have staggered even EP Thompson back in 1971 when he wrote Warwick University Ltd - then it's vital that they see themselves as cultural workers.

"Without a minimum of hope, we cannot so much as start the struggle. But without the struggle, hope dissipates, loses its bearings, and turns into hopelessness. And hopelessness can turn into tragic despair. Hence the need for a kind of education in hope." - Paolo Freire, 1994

1968 was a battle over space. It sought to decolonize the imagination, to see existing topographies as both carceral and susceptible to being reimagined and constructed anew: "Sous les pavés la plage." It formulated its own geography of struggle: the barricade, the commune, the squat. Fundamentally, it wanted to fashion new designs for living, autonomous zones for self- and collective determination; rock festivals, far from being solely about music, were visions, as fleeting but as important as chemically-induced dream-spaces, of an altered and sometimes sublime republic.

Adrian Henri's poem Me, quoted by Jeff Nuttall in Bomb Culture (1968), captures the transformed landscapes of that era in which the gulfs separating past and present, high and pop culture, avant-seriousness and ludic caper, imperial certainty and subaltern fracture, student and worker, migrancy and indigeneity, rationality and spirituality no longer seemed quite as huge as they once had:

" Stephane Mallarme and Alfred de Vigny
Ernest Mayakovsky and Nicolas de Stael
Hindemith Mick Jagger Durer and Schwitters, Garcia Lorca
and last of all me."

In different ways, at different levels of intensity, what was being fought was apartheid - imaginative and cultural, as well as racial and economic. Landed privilege, blue-blooded entitlement, the plantocratic territorialisings of the cordoned-off classes: in their place a vision, no matter how hesitantly or contradictorily expressed, was being developed of a more democratic society, one characterised by public spaces dedicated to nurturing heterogeneity and conviviality, where historical memory was cherished, but not at the expense of a commitment to crafting a future for the benefit of the many rather than the few.

These days it often seems as if we are living through an era of mass urbicide. Governments have given free rein to speculators and developers to buy up and privatise public spaces such as allotments, squats, playgrounds and beaches. Big cities are turning into brandscapes on which the likes of Clear Channel and countless ad agencies tattoo their hideous corporate IDs. Surveillance technology, installed both inside and outside buildings, in order it is claimed to protect rather than to monitor local populations, are mutating our home cities into a ghastly hybrid of airport terminal and militarised holding pen.

Urbicide, of an altogether more vicious nature, was wreaked on Mostar where Serbian bombs targeted the bridges, churches, markets, cafes and public squares where people of different religions met and gossiped and fell in love. It's been wreaked by the Israeli Defence Force on the West Bank where roads, olive groves and orchards have been bulldozed to make way for settler colonies; and for gated communities, a more extreme version of those found in Los Angeles or Mexico City, that are being used as tools of ethnic segregation.

All across the world, the battle for space - for a home to call one's own, a future that's worth imagining - goes on: in China, where brave activists try to delay the construction of dams that will lead to millions of people being uprooted; in Brazil, where members of the Landless Workers Movement try to establish cooperative farms and schools in a country nearly half of whose farmland is owned by less than 2% of the population.

Let there be no doubt - that battle is as dangerous as it is necessary: in Nandigram last year the West Bengal government expropriated 10,000 acres of peasant land and declared it a Special Economic Zone on which an Indonesian firm planned to build a chemical hub. Enraged local people declared their independence with the result that over 4000 armed police were sent in: at least fourteen villagers were killed, countless women were raped and men beaten.

"Nothing that has ever happened should be regarded as lost for history." - Walter Benjamin, 1939

The flyposter, the graffito, the pamphlet: 1968 was a triumph for alternative media and channels of expression. Samizdat or hand-circulated publications came into their own. Walls, fences and trees were almost as popular for those who had something to say as any radio programme or national broadsheet. And, beyond text, there was sound: the symphonics of subversion contained in public oratory and the roar of collective purpose. Perhaps each revolution requires its own, original form of sound poetry; a new world must be underscored by a new language, new timbres and rhythms.

That was happening in Addis Ababa where, for a dozen or so years before Mengistu's military coup in 1974, there was a wonderful eruption of new music, a good deal of it by Mahmoud Ahmed and Alèmayèhu Eshèté, that represented a joyous and syncretic mixture of imported jazz and funk and Ethiopian melodies. That was happening in Brazil too where the likes of Caetano Veloso and Gilberto Gil, tiring of traditional bossa nova and influenced in equal measure by psychedelia, Concretist poetry and the anthropophagic philosophy of Oswaldo de Andrade, created the Tropicalia movement whose euphorically creolized and futuristic "universal sound" was reviled by the right-wing military regime and led to their imprisonment.

Much of this inspirational archive of the international underground - Tropicalia, Cinema Novo, site-specific art, cine tracts, revolutionary zines - has in recent years been recovered and made available in a new kind of space: that of the internet. There it exists as a resource and as a series of potential imaginative detonations for anyone who looks for or chances upon it. The speed and low cost of its digital distribution all across the world would have delighted many of those who were alive and active in 1968: the internet, and the 'free culture' that it enables, represents a creative commons that make good on the dreams of 40 years ago.

Hardly a surprise, then, that repressive governments, profit-motivated ISPs, copyright lawyers and big businesses have initiated firewalls, proprietary software and video-sharing-website buy-outs. The internet in 2008 allows us to know more about 1968 - its range, depth, complexity - than anybody did at the time. It allows us to hold the torch for it, to continue carrying out its promise. Will this be the case in 10 years time? Judge Alex Kozinski of the US Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit has stated: "Overprotecting intellectual property is as harmful as underprotecting it. Creativity is impossible without a rich public domain".

"This making of a new world is a serious business. If we can't laugh, the world we make will be square, and we won't be able to turn it." - Subcomandante Insurgente Marcos, 2000

Nostalgia, so easily lambasted, can be a form of political critique. A way of rupturing the tyranny of the present. Better nostalgia than cynicism, the bad faith and brutal sardonics of those who would dismiss the uprisings of 40 years ago as druggy, middle-class narcissism. But ultimately, to be nostalgic for 1968 is to betray 1968. The students, workers, nationalists, visionaries and free spirits who rose up then were committed to the future tense. They saw culture as something to be fashioned rather than consumed. They wanted a headstart to happiness. To fast-forward an end to imperialism, to racial and sexual apartheid, to calcification of the soul.

They did so with fire in their veins and joy in their hearts. And it's that politics of joy that we need to hold on to today. The hackers, jammers, slashers, interventionists: all of them - all of us - passionate about championing the revolutionary spirit and collaborating for the goal of social change must remember the importance of pleasure, of gaiety, of what Barbara Ehrenreich calls "collective effervescence". 1968 a failure? It's barely just begun. All power to the imagination!

All Power to the Imagination! 1968 and Its Legacies, a Season in London, takes place across the city from 11th April to 10 June. Visit www.1968.org.uk

Sukhdev Sandhu is a writer, commentator, educator and multi-platform cultural and social activist. His books include London Calling, I'll Get My Coat and Night Haunts.

Top image: © Joseph Koudelka/ Magnum Photos: Czechoslovakia, Prague, August 1968 - Warsaw Pact troops invade Prague. In front of the Radio Headquarters. Taken from Josef Koudelka: Invasion Prague '68 (Thames & Hudson, 12 May, 296pp, £29.95; www.thamesandhudson.com). Smuggled out of Czechoslovakia soon after the 1968 Soviet invasion, Koudelka's stunning black-and-white pictures were widely published in the West, and remain the definitive images of those tumultuous days. Many thanks to Sophie Wright and Francesca Sears of Magnum.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Do Impossible Things: 1968 and its Legacies

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
In Front of the Radio Headquarters, Josef Koudelka 1968, like 1956 or 1989, is a year whose convulsive, combustible energies are ill-served by the commemoration industry. Every decade the archives are raided for stock footage: French students hurling stones at the police; a young woman, scantily dressed and swaying in blissed-out reverie at a rock festival; a famous actor or singer in the front row of a public march in some unspecified European capital.

# data[].attributes.headline
Lise Meitner: a physicist who never lost her humanity.

# data[].attributes.subject
Lise Meitner: a physicist who never lost her humanity.

# data[].attributes.body
#nuclearfission #died1968 #LiseMeitner #science #Cambridge #UK

# data[].attributes.headline
It’s Just a Beginning #ArtNationalGalleryofModernandContemporaryArt #Rome #1968 (3.10.2017–14.01.2018) #radical #art 

# data[].attributes.subject
It’s Just a Beginning #ArtNationalGalleryofModernandContemporaryArt #Rome #1968 (3.10.2017–14.01.2018) #radical #art 

# data[].attributes.body
works of:

Vito Acconci, Carl Andre, Franco Angeli, Giovanni Anselmo, Diane Arbus, Alighiero Boetti, Pier Paolo Calzolari, Carla Cerati, Merce Cunningham, Gino De Dominicis, Walter De Maria, Valie Export, Luciano Fabro, Rose Finn-Kelcey, Dan Flavin, Hans Haacke, Eva Hesse, Nancy Holt, Joan Jonas, Donald Judd, Allan Kaprow, Joseph Kosuth, Jannis Kounellis, Yayoi Kusama, Sol LeWitt, Richard Long, Toshio Matsumoto, Gordon Matta-Clark, Mario Merz, Marisa Merz, Maurizio Mochetti, Richard Moore, Bruce Nauman, Luigi Ontani, Giulio Paolini, Michelangelo Pistoletto, Emilio Prini, Mario Schifano, Carolee Schneemann, Gerry Schum, Robert Smithson, Bernar Venet, Lawrence Wiener, Gilberto Zorio

And from the Galleria Nazionale’s permanent collection, through the works of: Gianfranco Baruchello, Daniel Buren, Mario Ceroli, Christo, Tano Festa, Giosetta Fioroni, Eliseo Mattiacci, Pino Pascali, Andy Warhol

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Copyright 2017 Galleria Nazionale d'Arte Moderna e Contemporanea viale delle Belle Arti 131 - 00197 Roma - T +39 06 322981 - gan-amc@beniculturali.it

# data[].attributes.body
https://whatson.bfi.org.uk/lff/Online/default.asp?BOparam::WScontent::loadArticle::permalink=lucia&BOparam::WScontent::loadArticle::context_id=https://whatson.bfi.org.uk/lff/Online/default.asp?BOparam::WScontent::loadArticle::permalink=lucia&BOparam::WScontent::loadArticle::context_id=

# data[].attributes.body
#1968
During the period 1961-1973, five international exhibitions were organized under the title New Tendencies in Zagreb, Croatia/Yugoslavia. They continued the development of ideas raised by Exat 51during the 1950s, and formed part of the broader European post-informel art movement in the 1960s and 70s.

# data[].attributes.headline
All 8 issues of Reihe, eds. Eimert and Stockhausen, 1957-68 #

# data[].attributes.subject
All 8 issues of Reihe, eds. Eimert and Stockhausen, 1957-68 #

# data[].attributes.body
https://monoskop.org/log/?p=18919https://monoskop.org/log/?p=18919

# data[].attributes.headline
Kasper Opstrup: Invisible Insurrections and Radical Imaginaries in the UK Underground 1961-91 (2017)

# data[].attributes.subject
Kasper Opstrup: Invisible Insurrections and Radical Imaginaries in the UK Underground 1961-91 (2017)

# data[].attributes.body
https://monoskop.org/Cybernetic_Serendipityhttps://monoskop.org/Cybernetic_Serendipity

# data[].attributes.headline
An Incomplete History of Protest: Selections from the Whitney’s Collection, 1940–2017Aug 18, 2017 #posters #protest #1968 

# data[].attributes.subject
An Incomplete History of Protest: Selections from the Whitney’s Collection, 1940–2017Aug 18, 2017 #posters #protest #1968 

# data[].attributes.body
http://whitney.org/Exhibitions/AnIncompleteHistoryOfProtest?utm_source=Tumblr&utm_medium=SocialMedia&utm_term=Exhibitions&utm_content=Protesthttp://whitney.org/Exhibitions/AnIncompleteHistoryOfProtest?utm_source=Tumblr&utm_medium=SocialMedia&utm_term=Exhibitions&utm_content=Protest

# data[].attributes.headline
John Graham and Behind the scenes 1968 #1968 #UndercoverResearch 

# data[].attributes.subject
John Graham and Behind the scenes 1968 #1968 #UndercoverResearch 

# data[].attributes.body
http://undercoverresearch.net/2017/08/24/john-graham-behind-scenes-1968/http://undercoverresearch.net/2017/08/24/john-graham-behind-scenes-1968/

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Black Panthers (Agnès Varda, 1968 doc., B/N 46 min.)

# data[].attributes.body
#1968 #JeanLucGodard

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
?list=RDXYr5D4lqC0w

Just when you think you've seen everything Jean-Luc Godard has ever shot, something like this surfaces. If you're only now considering tucking into the feast that is Godard's filmography, don't let his abundance of uncollected odds, ends, clips, and shorts intimidate you. Not only do they promise a little thrill down the road when you've already digested his major works, but they offer quick bursts at any time of the revolutionary cinematic zest with which the filmmaker took on the world. With the man alive and working, I should perhaps say "the revolutionary cinematic zest with which the filmmaker takes on the world," but that gets into one of the most fascinating conversations that swirls around him: has Godard still got it?

Some say yes, that his latest picture Film Socialisme presents the logical continuation of all Godard has ever represented; some say no, that the Godard to watch remains the scrappy star of the 1960s' French New Wave. In his study Everything is Cinema: The Working Life of Jean-Luc Godard, New Yorker film blogger Richard Brody somehow makes both claims.

In the chapter "Revolution (1968-1972)" he describes Godard's improvised method of shooting a 1968 Jefferson Airplane concert:

He took over from the specialists and operated the camera from the window of Leacock- Pennebaker's office on West Forty-fifth street, shooting the band on the roof of the Schuyler Hotel across the street. (Pennebaker recalled him to be an amateurish cameraman who could not avoid the beginner's pitfall of frequent zooming in and out.) The performance took place without a permit, at standard rock volume: as singer Grace Slick later wrote, "We did it, deciding that the cost of getting out of jail would be less than hiring a publicist..."

Amateurish or not, a piece of the footage has surfaced on YouTube. Listen to the Airplane perform "The House at Pooneil Corners," watch Godard's dramatic swings of focus and zoom as he attempts to convey the spectacle of the band and the spectacle of countless surprised Manhattanites at once, and think for yourself about this peculiar intersection of two bold lines in the era's alternative zeitgeist. As Jefferson Airplane co-founder Paul Kantner said in a 1986 interview, "Just for a while there, maybe for about 25 minutes in 1967, everything was perfect." But these seven minutes in November 1968, from opening shouts to inevitable arrest, don't seem so dull themselves.
Related Content: Jean-Luc Godard's Rolling Stones Jean-Luc Godard's After-Shave Commercial Jean-Luc Godard Meets Woody Allen Colin Marshall hosts and produces Notebook on Cities and Culture. Follow him on Twitter at @colinmarshall.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Jefferson Airplane Plays on a New York Rooftop; Jean-Luc Godard Captures It (1968)

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Just when you think you've seen everything Jean-Luc Godard has ever shot, something like this surfaces. If you're only now considering tucking into the feast that is Godard's filmography, don't let his abundance of uncollected odds, ends, clips, and shorts intimidate you.

# data[].attributes.headline
#FairportConvention #1968 time will show the wiser

# data[].attributes.subject
#FairportConvention #1968 time will show the wiser

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Fairport Convention - Time Will Show The Wiser (Live 1968)

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Judy Dyble - vocals Ian Matthews - lead vocal Richard Thompson - lead guitar Simon Nicol - guitar Ashley "Tyger" Hutchings - bass Martin Lamble - drums Bouton Rouge TV show original broadcast

# data[].attributes.headline
John Cage #Reunion #1968 #MarcelDuchamp #music #chess

# data[].attributes.subject
John Cage #Reunion #1968 #MarcelDuchamp #music #chess

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Gabor Szabo - Dreams (1968) [full album]

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Thought I was done with Gabor huh? This is one of his most haunting and beautiful albums, sometimes even leaning into classical but always soaring through with his mystical phrases and rhythms. A must listen from start to finish! 1. Galatea's Guitar (0:00) 2. Half the Day is the Night (5:40) 3.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Evolution of Electronic Music #4 (1969-1978)

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
EVO of Electronic Music Part 4 (1969-1978)

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Edward Zajda (Usa, 1968)  - Independent Electronic Music Composer

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Uploaded by Nicolás Guzmán on 2015-03-07.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Paul earls monday music 1968 Moog rare electronic music Ruth White

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Another rare compostion performed by Paul Earls on the moog modular in 1968 - Earls was a teacher composer electronic futurist who worked with lasers and electronic music composition- well known by bob moog don buchla but still under the radar of most electronic music fans - his foresight and music is criminally unknown- this was from a rare MIT promo produced cd where he taught - called the electronic music of Paul Earls 1968-1993- ultra rare cd that is near impossible to find!

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Joseph Beuys, Handaction, 1968 (fragment)

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Joseph Beuys, Handaction, 1968 (fragment), met Anatol Herzfeld

# data[].attributes.body
MOMA

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Joseph Beuys. Intuition. 1968. Multiple of wood with pencil additions. overall: 11 13/16 x 8 1/4 x 2 5/16" (30 x 20.9 x 5.8 cm). Edition VICE-Versand, Remscheid, Germany. Edition VICE-Versand, Remscheid, Germany. unlimited; approximately 12,000 produced. Jacqueline Brody Fund. 1447.2001. © 2017 Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York / VG Bild-Kunst, Bonn.

# data[].attributes.body
TATE/National Galleries Scotland

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.keywords[]
tate / national galleries of scotland collection

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
'Joseph Beuys FOND II', Joseph Beuys, 1968 | Tate

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Artwork page for 'Joseph Beuys FOND II', Joseph Beuys, 1968

# data[].attributes.body
#1968

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
It's Day 312 and I'm still on a high from my improv show last night. It was so much fun! I am super tired today, but I had a great time doing today's piece. Join me in honoring John Baldesarri today!

John Anthony Baldessari (born June 17, 1931) is an American conceptual artist known for his work featuring found photography and appropriated images. He lives and works in Santa Monica and Venice, California.

Initially a painter, Baldessari began to incorporate texts and photography into his canvases in the mid-1960s. In 1970 he began working in printmaking, film, video, installation, sculpture and photography. He has created thousands of works that demonstrate-and, in many cases, combine-the narrative potential of images and the associative power of language within the boundaries of the work of art. His art has been featured in more than 200 solo exhibitions in the U.S. and Europe. His work influenced Cindy Sherman, David Salle, and Barbara Kruger among others.

Baldessari was born in National City, California to Hedvig Jensen, a Danish nurse,and

Antonio Baldessari, an Italian salvage dealer. Baldessari and his elder sister were raised in Southern California. He attended Sweetwater High School and San Diego State College. Between 1960 and 1984, he was married to Montessorian teacher Carol Ann Wixom; they have two children.

In 1959, Baldessari began teaching art in the San Diego school system. He kept teaching for nearly three decades, in schools and junior colleges and community colleges, and eventually at the university level. When the University of California decided to open up a campus in San Diego, the new head of the Visual Art Department, Paul Brach, asked Baldessari to be part of the originating faculty in 1968. At UCSD he shared an office with David Antin. In 1970, Baldessari moved to Santa Monica, where he met many artists and writers, and began teaching at CalArts. His first classes included David Salle, Jack Goldstein, Mike Kelley, Tony Oursler, James Welling, Barbara Bloom, Matt Mullican, andTroy Brauntuch. While at CalArts, Baldessari taught "the infamous Post Studio class", which he intended to "indicate people not daubing away at canvases or chipping away at stone, that there might be some other kind of class situation." The class, which operated outside of medium-specificity, was influential in informing the context for addressing a student's art practice at CalArts. He quit teaching at CalArts in 1986, moving on to teach at UCLA, which he continued until 2008. At UCLA, his students included Elliott Hundley.

Early text paintings

By 1966, Baldessari was using photographs and text, or simply text, on canvas. His early major works were canvas paintings that were empty but for painted statements derived from contemporary art theory. An early attempt of Baldessari's included the hand-painted phrase "Suppose it is true after all? WHAT THEN?" (1967) on a heavily worked painted surface. However, this proved personally disappointing because the form and method conflicted with the objective use of language that he preferred to employ. Baldessari decided the solution was to remove his own hand from the construction of the image and to employ a commercial, lifeless style so that the text would impact the viewer without distractions. The words were then physically lettered by sign painters, in an unornamented black font. The first of this series presented the ironic statement "A TWO-DIMENSIONAL SURFACE WITHOUT ANY ARTICULATION IS A DEAD EXPERIENCE" (1967).

Another work, Painting for Kubler (1967-68) presented the viewer theoretical instructions on how to view it and on the importance of context and continuity with previous works. This work referenced art historian George Kubler's seminal book, The Shape of Time: Remarks on the History of Things. The seemingly legitimate art concerns were intended by Baldessari to become hollow and ridiculous when presented in such a purely self-referential manner.

Disowning of early work

In 1970 Baldessari and five friends burnt all of the paintings he had created between 1953 and 1966 as part of a new piece, titled The Cremation Project. The ashes from these paintings were baked into cookies and placed into an urn, and the resulting art installation consists of a bronze commemorative plaque with the destroyed paintings' birth and death dates, as well as the recipe for making the

cookies. Through the ritual of cremation Baldessari draws a connection between artistic practice and the human life cycle. Thus the act of disavowal becomes generative as with the work of auto-destructive artist Jean Tinguely.

Juxtaposing text with images

Baldessari is best known for works that blend photographic materials (such as film stills), take them out of their original context and rearrange their form, often including the addition of words or sentences. Related to his early text paintings were his Wrong series (1966-1968), which paired photographic images with lines of text from an amateur photography book, aiming at the violation of a set of basic "rules" on snapshot composition. In one of the works, Baldessari had himself photographed in front of a palm precisely so that it would appear that the tree were growing out of his head. His photographic California Map Project (1969) created physical forms that resembled the letters in "California" geographically near to the very spots on the map that they were printed. In the Binary Code Series, Baldessari used images as information holders by alternating photographs to stand in for the on-off state of binary code; one example alternated photos of a woman holding a cigarette parallel to her mouth and then dropping it away.

Another of Baldessari's series juxtaposed an image of an object such as a glass, or a block of wood, and the phrase "A glass is a glass" or "Wood is wood" combined with "but a cigar is a good smoke" and the image of the artist smoking a cigar. These directly refer to René Magritte's The Treachery of Images; the images similarly were used to stand in for the objects described. However, the series also apparently refers to Sigmund Freud's famous attributed observation that "Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar", as well as toRudyard Kipling's "... a woman is only a woman, but a good cigar is a smoke."

In "Double Bill", a 2012 series of large inkjet prints, Baldessari paired the work of two selected artists (such as Giovanni di Paolo with David Hockney, or Fernand Léger withMax Ernst) on a single canvas, further altering the appropriated picture plane by overlaying his own hand-painted color additions. Baldessari then names only one of his two artistic "collaborators" on each canvas's lower edge, such as ...AND MANET or ...AND DUCHAMP.

Arbitrary games

Baldessari has expressed that his interest in language comes from its similarities in structure to games, as both operate by an arbitrary and mandatory system of rules. In this spirit, many of his works are sequences showing attempts at accomplishing an arbitrary goal, such as Throwing Three Balls in the Air to Get a Straight Line (1973), in which the artist attempted to do just that, photographing the results, and eventually selecting the "best out of 36 tries", with 36 being the determining number just because that is the standard number of

shots on a roll of 35mm film. The writer eldritch Priest ties John Baldessari's piece Throwing four balls in the air to get a square (best of 36 tries) as an early example of post-conceptual art. This work was published in 1973 by a young Italian publisher: Giampaolo Prearo that was one of the first to believe and invest in the work of Baldessari. He printed two series one in 2000 copies and a second more precious reserved to the publisher in 500 copies.

Much of Baldessari's work involves pointing, in which he tells the viewer not only what to look at but how to make selections and comparisons, often simply for the sake of doing so. Baldessari's Commissioned Paintings (1969) series took the idea

of pointing literally, after he read a criticism of conceptual art that claimed it was nothing more than pointing. Beginning with photos of a hand pointing at various objects, Baldessari then hired amateur yet technically adept artists to paint the pictures. He then added a caption "A painting by [painter's name]" to each finished painting. In this instance, he has been likened to a choreographer, directing the action while having no direct hand in it, and these paintings are typically read as questioning the idea of artistic authorship. The amateur artists have been analogized to sign painters in this series, chosen for their pedestrian methods that were indifferent to what was being painted. Baldessari critiques formalist assessments of art in a segment from his video How We Do Art Now(1973), entitled "Examining Three 8d Nails", in which he gives obsessive attention to minute details of the nails, such as how much rust they have, or descriptive qualities such as which appears "cooler, more distant, less important" than the others.

Partial biography is from wikipedia.

I hope you enjoy my tribute today! It was fun making it. I will see you tomorrow on Day 313.

Best,

Linda

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Day 312- John Baldessari- No More Boring Art

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
It's Day 312 and I'm still on a high from my improv show last night. It was so much fun! I am super tired today, but I had a great time doing today's piece. Join me in honoring John Baldesarri today! John Anthony Baldessari (born June 17, 1931) is an American conceptual artist known for his work featuring...

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
There are countless ways to explore the history of modern art, architecture, design, and the moving image. In this short film, experience highlights from the Museum of Modern Art's 1960s collection, a decade filled with artistic experimentation, and sociopolitical upheaval across the globe.

# data[].attributes.headline
From the Collection 1960-1969 MOMA #audio #JohnBaldessari What is painting #1968

# data[].attributes.subject
From the Collection 1960-1969 MOMA #audio #JohnBaldessari What is painting #1968

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.moma.org/audio/playlist/26/121https://www.moma.org/audio/playlist/26/121

# data[].attributes.headline
'You are here' #YokoOno #JohnLennon joint exhibition #july #1968 

# data[].attributes.subject
'You are here' #YokoOno #JohnLennon joint exhibition #july #1968 

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
The Art Exhibition You Are Here Monday 1 July 1968.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
John Lennon and Yoko Ono opened their first joint art exhibition on this day. You Are Here took place at the Robert Fraser Gallery at 69 Duke Street, London. The exhibition's full title was You Are Here (To Yoko from John Lennon, With Love). Also in attendance were various guests, reporters, and Apple's publicist Derek Taylor.

# data[].attributes.headline
#JohnLennon '... it’s no good knocking down a few old bloody Tories!...' #1968 #6hourInterview 

# data[].attributes.subject
#JohnLennon '... it’s no good knocking down a few old bloody Tories!...' #1968 #6hourInterview 

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.theguardian.com/music/2009/dec/17/john-lennon-lost-interviewhttps://www.theguardian.com/music/2009/dec/17/john-lennon-lost-interview

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
John Berger / Ways of Seeing , Episode 1 (1972)

# data[].attributes.headline
Radical Bodies: Anna Halprin, Simone Forti, and Yvonne Rainer in California and New York, 1955 - 1972

# data[].attributes.subject
Radical Bodies: Anna Halprin, Simone Forti, and Yvonne Rainer in California and New York, 1955 - 1972

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.nypl.org/events/exhibitions/radical-bodies-anna-halprin-simone-forti-and-yvonne-rainer-california-and-newhttps://www.nypl.org/events/exhibitions/radical-bodies-anna-halprin-simone-forti-and-yvonne-rainer-california-and-new

# data[].attributes.headline
#N-Zone #Arthur_Lipsett #1970 #film #Canada

# data[].attributes.subject
#N-Zone #Arthur_Lipsett #1970 #film #Canada

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
In this experimental film, Arthur Lipsett pieces together his vision of this fragmented world using odds and ends from other people's image and sound recordings. By juxtaposing these ...

# data[].attributes.body
#1964 #film

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
An experimental film from Arthur Lipsett, Free Fall is an assortment of film trimmings assembled to make a wry comment on humankind in today's world. It evokes a ...

# data[].attributes.headline
#21-87 #Arthur_Lipsett #Film #Canada #1964

# data[].attributes.subject
#21-87 #Arthur_Lipsett #Film #Canada #1964

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
This short film from Arthur Lipsett is an abstract succession of unrelated views of the passing crowd. A commentary on a machine-dominated society, it is often cited as ...

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Wanda is an independent 1970 drama film that was written and directed by Barbara Loden, who also stars in the title role. I posted this because of the interest from the "You Must Remember This" podcast. Enjoy!

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Ana Mendieta | Bird Transformation (1972) | Artsy

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
From Louisiana Museum of Modern Art, Ana Mendieta, Bird Transformation (1972), Color photograph, vintage print, 25.4 × 20.3 cm

# data[].attributes.headline
#Lothar_ Baumgarten #Unsettled_Objects #1968/1969 #projections #juxtaposition #time 

# data[].attributes.subject
#Lothar_ Baumgarten #Unsettled_Objects #1968/1969 #projections #juxtaposition #time 

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.moma.org/interactives/exhibitions/1999/muse/artist_pages/baumgarten_unsettled1.htmlhttps://www.moma.org/interactives/exhibitions/1999/muse/artist_pages/baumgarten_unsettled1.html

# data[].attributes.body
' I will not call myself an art worker but an art dreamer and I will participate only in a total revolution simultaneously personal and public." – Lee Lozano,

# data[].attributes.body
#1969 https://theartstack.com/artist/lee-lozano/general-strike-piece

# data[].attributes.body
https://mubi.com/films/plumb-line https://mubi.com/films/plumb-line

# data[].attributes.headline
GORAN_TRBULJAK #1968 #conceptual art  #Croatia

# data[].attributes.subject
GORAN_TRBULJAK #1968 #conceptual art  #Croatia

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.avantgarde-museum.com/en/museum/collection/authorsgoran-trbuljak~pe4489/#overlayhttps://www.avantgarde-museum.com/en/museum/collection/authorsgoran-trbuljak~pe4489/#overlay

# data[].attributes.body
Students in a chain http://pro.magnumphotos.com/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult&ALID=2TYRYDKRX97Xhttp://pro.magnumphotos.com/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult&ALID=2TYRYDKRX97X

# data[].attributes.headline
#Christo 5450 m cubic package #1967/68 #documenta4

# data[].attributes.subject
#Christo 5450 m cubic package #1967/68 #documenta4

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.documenta.de/en/retrospective/4_documentahttps://www.documenta.de/en/retrospective/4_documenta

# data[].attributes.headline
Dead pan and one liners: the 70s #william_wegman #1970 #Stomach_Song

# data[].attributes.subject
Dead pan and one liners: the 70s #william_wegman #1970 #Stomach_Song

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Clip from William Wegman's "Stomach Song", available on William Wegman Video Works 1970-1999 from Netflix or Amazon.

# data[].attributes.headline
#Marshall_McLuhan in Conversation with #Norman_Mailer #1968

# data[].attributes.subject
#Marshall_McLuhan in Conversation with #Norman_Mailer #1968

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.provider_name
Marshall McLuhan Speaks Special Collection

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Marshall McLuhan in Conversation with Norman Mailer

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Marshall McLuhan Speaks Special Collection: Marshall McLuhan in Conversation with Norman Mailer

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Bruce Conner - Intro / THREE SCREEN RAY - Art + Music - MOCAtv

# data[].attributes.headline
Bruce_Conner #1968  A Discussion at the the 1968 Flaherty Film Seminar

# data[].attributes.subject
Bruce_Conner #1968  A Discussion at the the 1968 Flaherty Film Seminar

# data[].attributes.body
http://michelle-silva.squarespace.com/news/2017/3/29/o3jiw6y9g162amjbtkka0uuurqk4jc

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.moma.org/collection/works/69482https://www.moma.org/collection/works/69482

# data[].attributes.headline
HUGH MACDIARMID: A Portrait #Margaret_Tait #Scotland #film #1964

# data[].attributes.subject
HUGH MACDIARMID: A Portrait #Margaret_Tait #Scotland #film #1964

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Hugh MacDiarmid: A Portrait by Margaret Tait (1964)

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Tait's affectionate portrait of Scotland's great poet (1892-1978) who remains a controversial and influential figure. Hugh MacDiarmid: A Portrait, is from the online Poetry Exhibition. To view the other films in the exhibition, please go to the LUX website. http://www.luxonline.org.uk/artists/margaret_tait/hugh_macdiarmid-_a_portrait.html

# data[].attributes.headline
#Berlin_Horse #Malcolm_Le_Grice #film #1970 

# data[].attributes.subject
#Berlin_Horse #Malcolm_Le_Grice #film #1970 

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Malcolm Le Grice's Berlin Horse / Sound by Brian Eno " Multi-projection film Berlin Horse (1970) was based entirely on a novel but simple idea of a repeating, subtly changing film loop. The soundtrack created by Brian Eno was also implemented using a tape loop.

# data[].attributes.body
#USA #UK

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Exploding Plastic Inevitable : Andy Warhol : Free Download & Streaming : Internet Archive

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Twenty minute film of psychedelic dance, music and lighting.

# data[].attributes.headline
#Wow #Jim_Nutt #1968 #acrylic on plexiglass #Chicago_Art_Group

# data[].attributes.subject
#Wow #Jim_Nutt #1968 #acrylic on plexiglass #Chicago_Art_Group

# data[].attributes.headline
#Ed_SandersIn Defense of Kiss and Screw#1969

# data[].attributes.subject
#Ed_SandersIn Defense of Kiss and Screw#1969

# data[].attributes.body
#mimeo_revolution

# data[].attributes.headline
#Ezra_PoundThe Cantos of Ezra Pound CX-CXVI#1967 #Mimeo_Revolution

# data[].attributes.subject
#Ezra_PoundThe Cantos of Ezra Pound CX-CXVI#1967 #Mimeo_Revolution

# data[].attributes.body
http://realitystudio.org/bibliographic-bunker/fuck-you-press-archive/http://realitystudio.org/bibliographic-bunker/fuck-you-press-archive/

# data[].attributes.headline
Fuck you: A magazine of the Arts #1962 #1965 #Mimeo_Revolution #Ed_Sanders #USA #Avant_Garde

# data[].attributes.subject
Fuck you: A magazine of the Arts #1962 #1965 #Mimeo_Revolution #Ed_Sanders #USA #Avant_Garde

# data[].attributes.body
Dedicated to Pacifism, Unilateral Disarmament, National Defense thru Nonviolent Resistence [sic], Multilateral Indiscriminate Apertural Conjugation, Anarchism, World Federalism, Civil Disobedience, Obstructers & Submarine Boarders, and All Those Groped by J. Edgar Hoover in the Silent Halls of Congress.
The list of contributors is impressive. Charles Olson, Philip Whalen, Gregory Corso, Gary Snyder, W.H. Auden, Pound, Allen Ginsberg, Norman Mailer, Antonin Artaud, Robert Duncan. The editorial comments are priceless, especially the notes on contributors, the advertisements for a secretary, or the search for a literary assistant for Allen Ginsberg.

# data[].attributes.body
#1968 #Mimeo_Revolution #Malone_Marvin

# data[].attributes.body
#underground #newspaper 1966-1968 #Underground_Press_Syndicate
#Mimeo_Revolution
Oracle contributors included many significant San Francisco–area artists of the time, including Bruce Conner and Rick Griffin. It featured such beat writers as Allen Ginsberg, Gary Snyder, Lawrence Ferlinghetti and Michael McClure.

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.moma.org/collection/works/146947?locale=enhttps://www.moma.org/collection/works/146947?locale=en

# data[].attributes.body
Tap and Touch Cinema #1968 #Expanded_Cinema #Munich #Public_Space

# data[].attributes.headline
DE OPPRESSO LIBER #1968 by #Carlos_Bustamante

# data[].attributes.subject
DE OPPRESSO LIBER #1968 by #Carlos_Bustamante

# data[].attributes.headline
Three Shots at Rudi (Drei Schüsse auf Rudi) by #Harun_Farocki #1968

# data[].attributes.subject
Three Shots at Rudi (Drei Schüsse auf Rudi) by #Harun_Farocki #1968

# data[].attributes.body
http://www.harunfarocki.de/films/1960s/1968/three-shots-at-rudi.html

# data[].attributes.headline
Catalysis III, #1970 by #Adrian_Piper Photo by #Rosemary_Mayer #art #women

# data[].attributes.subject
Catalysis III, #1970 by #Adrian_Piper Photo by #Rosemary_Mayer #art #women

# data[].attributes.body
Fear of #Racial
Impurity ...

# data[].attributes.headline
On Lies, Secrets and Silence: Selected Prose, 1966-78 #Adrienne_Rich 

# data[].attributes.subject
On Lies, Secrets and Silence: Selected Prose, 1966-78 #Adrienne_Rich 

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.amazon.co.uk/exec/obidos/ASIN/0393312852/braipick0d-21 #Women
#Feminish

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Jerry Abrams - Be In (1967) Music By Blue Cheer

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Rare short film with psychedelic effects by Jerry Abrams in 1967. This movie immortalizes the "Human Be-in" gathering of the 17 January 1967 at the Golden Gate Park of San Francisco as the beginning of the summer of love. You can here see Gery Snyder, Allen Ginsberg, Timothy Leary and a Grateful Dead footage.

# data[].attributes.headline
Dialectics of Liberation International Conference The Roundhouse London July #1967 

# data[].attributes.subject
Dialectics of Liberation International Conference The Roundhouse London July #1967 

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
This is a compellation of excerpts from a conference titled: "Dialectics of Liberation" The conference took place in London in July 1967. More videos from the two weeks conference will be published on line soon.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
El poeta norteamericano responde a un periodista sobre la marcha de estudiantes.

# data[].attributes.body
#1968

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Ginsberg leads group in chant on the shore of Lake Michigan, in advance of the Democratic National Convention. Chicago, 1968

# data[].attributes.headline
'The Everyday Life and Glorious Times of the Situationist International'by #McKenzie_Wark

# data[].attributes.subject
'The Everyday Life and Glorious Times of the Situationist International'by #McKenzie_Wark

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.versobooks.com/books/1869-the-beach-beneath-the-street #Verso_Books

# data[].attributes.headline
La Société du Spectacle (Society of the Spectacle) film, 1973 film by #Situationist#GuyDepord  

# data[].attributes.subject
La Société du Spectacle (Society of the Spectacle) film, 1973 film by #Situationist#GuyDepord  

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
The Society of the Spectacle by Guy Debord (1973) dub fr sub eng

# data[].attributes.headline
The Society of the Spectacle #Situationists #

# data[].attributes.subject
The Society of the Spectacle #Situationists #

# data[].attributes.body
#Guy_Debord #1967 #

# data[].attributes.headline
Beneath the pavement, the beach...May 68' #Situationists #graffiti #René_Viénet #

# data[].attributes.subject
Beneath the pavement, the beach...May 68' #Situationists #graffiti #René_Viénet #