{"id":4557,"date":"2017-04-14T10:23:13","date_gmt":"2017-04-14T09:23:13","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.fredericlecloux.com\/en\/?p=4557"},"modified":"2018-02-14T10:46:12","modified_gmt":"2018-02-14T09:46:12","slug":"figures-with-absent-landscapes-iii","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.fredericlecloux.com\/en\/figures-with-absent-landscapes-iii\/","title":{"rendered":"Figures with absent landscapes III"},"content":{"rendered":"

Diary of an artist in residence, University of Nottingham, part III, 10-11 April 2017<\/h3>\n

See the note to the reader in the first post of this diary<\/a><\/strong>.<\/p>\n

\n

\u0928\u092f\u093e\u0901 \u092c\u0930\u094d\u0937 \u0968\u0966\u096d\u096a \u0915\u094b \u0939\u093e\u0930\u094d\u0926\u093f\u0915 \u092e\u0902\u0917\u0932\u092e\u092f \u0936\u0941\u092d\u0915\u093e\u092e\u0928\u093e!<\/span><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

 <\/p>\n

10 April<\/h4>\n

This morning, when I left Nyons to go and celebrate New Year 2074 (1<\/a>) with the Nepali community of Nottingham, the voice of Guy Debord was on the radio (2<\/a>) reading \u201cLes environs de Fresnes, participation de Guy-Ernest Debord \u00e0 une nouvelle culture radiophonique\u201d, as recorded in the early 1950s (3<\/a>). I cannot recall having ever heard him speaking before. So I set off on this nine-hour journey with the car compartment being immersed in Debord\u2019s slow, monotonic, melancholic voice. So inexorably melancholic a voice that it felt aimed at hindering any movement, at anchoring the vehicle and its passenger deep into the ground, forever.
\nIt appeared that the car was stronger, or lighter, than melancholy \u2013 or was it the passenger? \u2013 for I eventually reached the airport of Carcassonne and later my final destination: Marcus Garvey Centre on Lenton Boulevard in Nottingham. At the Nepali New Year party the boys and girls were dancing so joyfully to their favourite pop songs and jumping so high in the air that the ground seemed more like a hypothetical safety net than anything to anchor into.<\/p>\n

I assumed then that I misinterpreted Debord\u2019s voice in the morning. I probably missed out on the ironic dimension of his tone\u2026 I am too serious these days, I guess\u2026 He says further in the recording:<\/p>\n

Les Lettristes refusent a priori<\/i>, et sans conversation possible, toutes les raisons de vivre ou de mourir, de boire ou de ne pas boire, qu\u2019on peut leur avancer.<\/p>\n

Guy Debord,\u00a0Les environs de Fresnes<\/em> (4<\/a>)<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

It suddenly reminds me of Chantal Akerman: \u201cJe fais du cin\u00e9ma parce que je fais du cin\u00e9ma parce que je fais du cin\u00e9ma\u201d (5<\/a>). That is precisely what I felt in there: Nepalis were dancing because they were dancing. They were drinking or not because they were drinking or not. On the pretext<\/i> of celebrating a new year coming, but for no reason<\/i> at all.<\/p>\n

Or at least I would have loved them to do so. Debord\u2019s radicalness versus<\/i> a Nepali way of coming to terms with determinism: these happen to be the two ends of today\u2019s contradiction for me. I doubt I am the right person to try bridging the gap between them. I know only too well that their dances were, and are, also, an answer to vertigo \u2013 a strategy (back to De Certeau again) to reduce a distance. They were not dancing \u201camong the debris of ancient poetry\u201d in order to create the \u201cultimate acceptable dialogue\u201d, as Debord\u2019s text also goes\u2026 They were simply filling a gap with their very own freedom, dust and sweat. And that was beautiful. (And they invited me to fill it with them and dance\u2026 I don\u2019t know what that was.)<\/p>\n

Vincent Kaufmann, who prefaced Debord\u2019s \u0152uvres<\/i> (6<\/a>) and was commenting on his work in the morning radio show, evoked a poetic idea according to which Debord had, very early, already \u201cgrieved the world\u201d. The world thus no longer being to be grieved, the loss of the world having been accepted, Debord was able to draw on this acknowledgment and to turn it into freedom. As a result of that, melancholy was for him not a state to dwell upon but a very active process.<\/p>\n

It might well be that the link between Debord and Nepali expatriates here lies in this idea of freedom. They have renounced a vision of the world and invented a space of freedom to replace it: by being here Nepalis have renounced a fantasised lost country that they cherish, and by being him Debord renounced the actuality of a spectacular world that he negated. But both renunciations go round in circles. Nepalis wait, albeit actively, to return home. Yet home no longer exists since they are here, not there. Or to be more precise, home is the combination of inhabiting here and dreaming of there. As for Debord, the conversation with Antoine d\u2019Agata<\/a> for instance, that was published earlier in the French section of this blog, shows how desperate, how essentially sterile it can be to try to live by Debord\u2019s principles and to strive to govern your own life. So the freedom in question here is a freedom that leads nowhere. It is not a solution for a better or a worse future. It can only be lived and experienced here and now.<\/p>\n

This said, I don\u2019t think that I am properly equipped to elaborate more on someone who worked hard to steer clear of the pain of having followers and of being discussed, and who dearly paid that freedom. So that erratic digression would probably not hold much scrutiny.<\/p>\n

So, yes, that New Year party! Very Nepali! Very enjoyable! I arrived around 6 PM after having spent an hour in the traffic jam on the way from the airport. They had rented a huge hall with a very high ceiling and an infinite natural reverberation, a very loud sound system with giant speakers, saturated high and low frequencies and no mediums at all, and a couple of defective microphones that were quick at producing feedback.<\/p>\n

You had to buy a ticket at the entrance. The hall was full of families. Women were beautifully dressed with saris and Tibetan clothes, kids were shouting, screaming, and running everywhere randomly, men were sitting at tables, most of them were wearing western suits. There were many teenagers too, the boys in college suits and the girls with skin-tight dresses and super-high-heeled shoes or going bare-footed, everyone taking thousands of group selfies. There were at least two hundred people in there. The atmosphere was electric.<\/p>\n

T.\u2019s youngest daughter recognised me. We have one thing in common at least: our level in Nepali. She\u2019s too young to be fluent. I\u2019m too old. So she likes to speak English with me. She took me to her dad who seated me at the official table where I recognised some people. He introduced me to Dr Subedi, His Excellency the extraordinary and plenipotentiary Ambassador of Nepal to the United Kingdom, who had heard of me as a \u201cgood friend of Nepal\u201d. His excellency couldn\u2019t have put it better.<\/p>\n

G., that I also met last time, was leading the ceremony from the stage, inviting successive groups of young girls to perform traditional dances. In between, every now and then, some senior member of the community would climb on stage and address the audience, speaking for five minutes about serious things, and then the girls would come back and dance. Nothing of what was happening on stage prevented anyone from talking, shouting, screaming, dancing, running, living, at their own pace and in the way they liked, everywhere in the hall.<\/p>\n

T. brought my arrival to G.\u2019s attention, who went on with a speech about my project, and about how happy they were that I came from so far to see them. The happiness is shared, my friends! Then one of the women presented me with a red khata<\/i><\/a>, the ceremonial scarf that is common in Nepal and in areas where Tibetan buddhism prevails, especially for greeting, welcoming or paying farewell to visitors and relatives. I was then requested to go on stage too, first to extend my wishes to the audience for a happy new year, then to say a few words about my project. I don\u2019t know if I was understood, neither if I was heard nor even if I was listened to, but I was definitely seen. Which means that next time in June all of them will at least remember having spotted me up there, and will have an idea about what I am doing in Nottingham.<\/p>\n

Then came the moment to drink and to eat. By the time I noticed it the queue in front of the dalbhat<\/i> buffet was about eighty people long. T. was a perfect host. He took the fast track to the kitchen and in no time he came back with a pint of Carling and a single use compartment plate loaded with various curries, pickles, dal and rice. \u0927\u0928\u094d\u092f\u092c\u093e\u0926 \u0926\u093e\u0907!<\/span><\/p>\n

There was only one white family dining in the hall \u2013 who seemed to have Nepali relatives, but I haven\u2019t asked. That surprised me. It was like a Nepali village atmosphere in that respect. Was the party meant to be a community-only event? A moment and a place where Nepalis could forget about their otherness and about them living in the elsewhere? Or was it advertised outside the community but neglected by non-Nepalis? I don\u2019t know. I should ask the question. I did, actually, but that was not the place. So I shall again.<\/p>\n

Then finally came the time to dance. That was great. G. was operating the audio player on the computer, switching from one song to another without much transition, sometimes stopping a song in the middle, pausing, thinking about which next song would be best, boys and girls going on stage to assail him with suggestions, and in the meantime everybody catching one\u2019s breath. Then a new song would begin and the ground started trembling again as the bass beat was pulsing. This was no show. These were just people enjoying being together, everyone being ready to accept everyone else\u2019s attempts, desires, mistakes\u2026 No, there were no mistakes. There were just different ways of living the moment. But, in fact, not that different. It was about releasing a safety valve.<\/p>\n

The interaction between boys and girls or men and women on the dance-floor was a bit shy at the beginning, the male and the female group each dancing as a compact and impermeable crowd at a respectable distance from one another, without any electron eloping towards the unknown. But by the middle of the evening some adventurers had hazarded their timidity and imperceptibly drifted out of their sphere to infiltrated the others. Not many of them, and with prudence, but in a large enough number to make both groups soon look like one dancing assembly.<\/p>\n

I met a retired British army Gurkha who offered me a whisky and ordered one for himself too. We spoke for a while when the volume of music allowed us to hear each other. I don\u2019t know if the whisky helped but he told me about his children and especially about \u201chis son and his girlfriend\u201d who are living together in London. I think that it was the first time ever that I heard a Nepali father using this word \u2013 \u201cgirlfriend\u201d \u2013 linked with a relative, and so recognising implicitly \u2013 and very naturally, without any sense of embarrassment \u2013 that his son has a relation with a woman with whom he is not married.<\/p>\n

\u092a\u0930\u093f\u0935\u0924\u0930\u094d\u0928 \u0938\u0902\u0938\u093e\u0930 \u0915\u094b \u0928\u093f\u092f\u092e \u0939\u094b\u2026<\/span><\/p>\n

Around ten everyone started to leave and half an hour later the party was over\u2026 It was not far from the apartment so I walked.<\/p>\n

11 April<\/b><\/h4>\n

Writing. Preparing to visit Pierre tomorrow on my way back from Carcassonne airport to Nyons at the shipyard where he renovates his boat. I have Racines<\/i> (7<\/a>) with me here. One of his most ambivalent books, sombre and clear at the same time. A merciless re-assessment of what a language is, and of what an image is, and of their limits. And maybe a breaking point. His silence didn\u2019t begin right in the wake of that book, but I wonder if the few ones that followed were not just aftershocks of Racines<\/i>. I hope that one day we\u2019ll take the time to speak about that. Tomorrow? Not sure. Pierre said that he was too busy to think about speaking but not too busy to meet and have lunch. That is at least something we can do, so we\u2019ll start with that. What we also know we can do is speaking (a lot) without thinking (too much) so we\u2019ll see. I am happy to see him.<\/p>\n

To be honest, this needs to be reformulated.<\/p>\n

\u201cWriting\u201d. Yes, that\u2019s true, that is what I did. But how slow this goes! What happened yesterday? I listened to the radio for half an hour then I went to a party for four hours. (In between, I drove in silence and slept in an airplane. There\u2019s not much to say about that.) But writing the account of these short four hours and a half took me twice that time today. And I haven\u2019t finished. Is this normal?<\/p>\n

Hence the following: \u201cpreparing to visit Pierre tomorrow\u201d. No. Not satisfactory. I couldn\u2019t find enough time to read through Racines <\/i>again for the first time in years. I know though that there is a key in that book to something that is important now. I would love to discuss that feeling with Pierre. One day.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

(1<\/a>) In the Bikram Sambat Nepali calendar the new year starts on the 1st<\/sup> baisakh<\/i> (\u092c\u0948\u0936\u093e\u0916<\/span>), which in 2074 fall on 14th<\/sup> April 2017. The celebration in Nottingham was organised a bit earlier.
\n(2<\/a>) Les Chemins de la philosophie<\/i>, France Culture, https:\/\/www.franceculture.fr\/emissions\/les-chemins-de-la-philosophie\/guy-debord-14-lart-de-deplaire<\/a>.
\n(3<\/a>) More on that recording can be found for instance on: http:\/\/www.pileface.com\/sollers\/\/spip.php?<\/a>.
\n(4<\/a>) I couldn\u2019t find any published translation of this text, so this is my attempt: \u201cThe Lettrists reject a priori, and with no possible debate, any reason to live or to die, to drink or not to drink, that might be put forward to them.\u201d
\n(5<\/a>) Akerman par Akerman<\/i>, Cin\u00e9ma de notre temps, 1996. I couldn\u2019t find any published translation of this text, so this is my attempt: \u201cI make films, because I make films, because I make films.\u201d
\n(6<\/a>) Guy Debord, \u0152uvres <\/i>(Paris: Quarto\/Gallimard, 2006).
\n(7<\/a>) Pierre Duba, Racines <\/i>(Montpellier: 6 Pieds sous terre, 2010). Some images of the book are available online at http:\/\/www.pastis.org\/jade\/2010-01-03\/racines.htm<\/a>.
\n

\n

Photograph: Celebration of New Year 2074 B.S., Nottingham, England, 10 April 2017.<\/p>\n

\n

Kindly proofread by Alisha Sett<\/a>.<\/em><\/p>\n

\n

The e-kus created during the residence are available online in the Stories<\/a> section of this website.<\/p>\n

\"Leverhulme<\/a>\"University<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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