Word: avant
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Dates: during 2000-2009
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Beck took a low offer from DGC (now Interscope), because it allowed him to record on the side with independent labels and gave him complete artistic freedom. As his subsequent albums bounded between the accessible (Odelay, Mellow Gold) and the avant-garde (Stereopathetic Soulmanure, Mutations), artistic freedom and experimentation became his shtick. It's an inherited trait. His grandfather Al Hansen was a member of the European artists' collective Fluxus, which specialized in Dadaist performance pieces. But Beck draws inspiration from contemporary sources too. "Brando was in some movie"--1996's The Island of Dr. Moreau--"where...
...began an education that lasted 10 years. While doing these odd jobs, I immersed myself in the incredible artistic renaissance that was the Village in the 1950s--the Abstract Expressionist painters, the Beat Generation, the avant-garde playwrights. At the Cedar Tavern we'd meet up with Jackson Pollock and Willem de Kooning. At the Carnegie Tavern we'd sit around with Aaron Copland and Elliott Carter and talk music. Seeing my first Beckett play, my first Genet play--they were revelatory. They showed me that theater didn't have to be what I had known thus far. They opened...
...does an “underground” organization advertise itself to the mainstream? Is the mere act of putting up a poster a kind of selling out? This record hospital comp ad explores these paradoxes with verve, maintaining a careful balance between avant-garde aloofness and general-audience accessibility...
...brilliance lies not in his eclecticism, an aspiration that Clayton finds “horrifying” for its implications of cultural dabbling. Instead, it’s in how effortlessly he makes sense of these seemingly disparate genres—ranging from dancehall reggae all the way to avant-classical—and recreates them into a singular body that is at once memorable and immensely addictive. Gold Teeth Thief is the sort of boundless organized noise that hasn’t been heard since the heyday of hip-hop and underground rave...
...peasants are stealing your artwork!" I yelled to Yu Xiao Yu. I had just run halfway across a tiny, muddy island on the outskirts of Nanjing, dodging several avant-garde sculptures and art installations along the way."Really?" asked the artist, as his round face broke into a smile. "That's great!" A group of fellow Nanjing artists laughed and pointed at the leather-faced farmer in a worn Mao jacket who, along with his wife and son, was cheerfully scooping armfuls of seaweed from Yu's installation: a giant ditch in the shape of a gingerbread man, which...