Charles Munka via MATRIX ONLINE NETWORK

From Brazil with love →

If You Can't Stand the Heat

Image above is from the base of the cross in front of the church of São Francisco do Paraguaçu in the Bahian Recôncavo

Sprawled across broad equatorial latitudes, stoked and steamed and sensual in the widest sense of the word, limned in cadenced song, Brazil is a conundrum wrapped in a smile inside an irony...

It is not a European nation. It is not a North American nation. It is not an East Asian nation. It straddles — jungle and desert and dense urban centers — both the equator and the Tropic of Capricorn. Brazil absorbed over ten times the number of enslaved Africans taken to the United States of America, and is a repository of African deities (and their music) now largely forgotten in their lands of origin. It was a refuge (of sorts) for Sephardim fleeing an Inquisition which followed them across the Atlantic (that unofficial symbol of Brazil's national music — the pandeiro — was almost certainly brought to Brazil by these people). Across the parched savannas of the interior of Brazil's culturally fecund nordeste/northeast, where wizard Hermeto Pascoal was born in Lagoa da Canoa (Lagoon of the Canoe) and raised in Olho d'Águia (Eye of the Eagle), much of Brazil's aboriginal population was absorbed into a caboclo/quilombola culture punctuated by the Star of David. Three cultures — from three continents — running for their lives, their confluence forming an unprecedented fourth. Pandeirista on the roof. Nowhere else but here.

Oligarchy, plutocracy, dictatorships and massive corruption — elements of these are still strongly entrenched — have defined, delineated, and limited Brazil.

But strictured & bound as it has been and is, Brazil has buzz...not the shallow buzz of a fashionable moment...but the deep buzz of a population which in spite of — or perhaps because of — the tough slog through life they've been allotted by humanity's dregs-in-fine-linen, have chosen not to simply pull themselves along but to lift their voices in song and their bodies in dance...to eat well and converse well and much and to wring the joy out of the day-to-day happenings and small pleasures of life which are so often set aside or ignored in the European, North American, and East Asian nations.

For this Brazil has a genius perhaps unparalleled in all other countries and societies, a genius which thrives alongside peeling paint and holes in the streets and roads, under bad organization by the powers-that-be, both civil and governmental, under a constant rain of societal indignities...

Which is all to say that if you don't know Brazil and you're expecting any semblance of order, progress and light, you will certainly find the light! And the buzz of a people who for generations have responded to privation at many different levels by somehow rising above it all.

"Onde tem miséria, tem música!"* - Raymundo Sodré

And it's not just music. And it's not just Brazil.

Welcome to the kitchen!

* "Where there is misery, there is music!" Remarked during a conversation arcing from Bahia to Haiti and Cuba to New Orleans and the south side of Chicago and Harlem to the villages of Ireland and the gypsy camps and shtetls of Eastern Europe...

Why a "Matrix"?

I was explaining the ideas behind this nascent network to (João) Teoria (trumpet player above) over cervejas at Xique Xique (a bar named for a town in Bahia) in the Salvador neighborhood of Barris...

Like this (but in Portuguese): "It's kind of like Facebook if it didn't spy on you, but reversed... more about who you don't know than who you do know. And who doesn't know you but would be glad if they did. It's kind of like old Myspace Music but instead of having "friends" it has a list on your page of people you recommend. Not just musicians but writers, painters, filmmakers, dancers, chefs... anybody in the creative economy. It has a list of people who recommend you, or through whom you are recommended. It deals with arts which aren't recommendable by algorithm but need human intelligence behind recommendations. And the people who are recommended can recommend, creating a network of recommendations wherein by the small world phenomenon most people in the creative economy are within several steps of everybody else in the creative economy, no matter where they are in the world..."

And João said (in Portuguese): "A matrix where you can move from one artist to another..."

A matrix! That was it! The ORIGINAL meaning of matrix is "source", from "mater", Latin for "mother". So the term would help congeal the concept in the minds of people the network was being introduced to, while giving us a motto: "We're a real mother for ya!" (you know, Johnny "Guitar" Watson?)

The original idea was that musicians would recommend musicians, the network thus formed being "small world" (commonly called "six degrees of separation"). In the real world, the number of degrees of separation in such a network can vary, but while a given network might have billions of nodes (people, for example), the average number of steps between any two nodes will usually be minuscule.

Thus somebody unaware of the magnificent music of Bahia, Brazil will be able to conceivably move from almost any musician in this matrix to Bahia in just a few steps...

By the same logic that might move one from Bahia or anywhere else to any musician anywhere.

And there's no reason to limit this system to musicians. To the contrary, while there are algorithms written to recommend music (which, although they are limited, can be useful), there are no algorithms capable of recommending journalism, novels & short stories, painting, dance, film, chefery...

...a vast chasm that this network — or as Teoria put it, "matrix" — is capable of filling.

Charles Munka I RECOMMEND

CURATION

from this node by: Matrix+

This is the Universe of

Name: Charles Munka
City/Place: Hong Kong
Country: China
Hometown: Lyon, France

Life & Work

Bio: Not every artist thinks of a painting as a place. For many artists—I would venture to guess the vast majority—a painting can be anything from a discrete object or a window into a fantasy to an object out of time or a representation of an ongoing practice.

Some painters, though, think of painting in architectonic terms, imagining how future viewers somewhere down the long temporality of art history might approach the work, wondering what kind of spaces paintings might one day be displayed within, considering how paintings themselves might evoke or even create spaces for meditation, conflict, romance, salvation. This is, in some important ways, the more classical approach to painting, in that it is beholden to a religious sensibility. Every painter of a medieval altarpiece, for instance, knew exactly where that painting would reside for the duration of its worldly existence; removal would be tantamount to cataclysm.

Through modernism, the artist wrests control of the siting of the work away from the commissioning institution—the image slinks from the church to the museum, freed from something spiritual and bonded instead to systems of circulation.

Museums are, all of them, tomb raiders. In the twentieth century, artists who have built homes for their prized works have been subject to ambiguous admiration and derision, the accusation of arrogance and egoism no doubt stemming from a lingering religious aura that has, despite it all, never been entirely stripped away from painting: in creating paintings for particular spaces the artist is seen as rejecting the invisible hand of circulation, and in creating spaces for particular paintings the he builds a temple to his own hand.

The Rothko Chapel, which technically functions as a place of worship; Ellsworth Kelly’s Austin, often oddly described as an atheist temple; Monet’s Water Lilies, suspended in the air against a wall of their own; Mark Bradford’s Pickett’s Charge, and its immediate predecessor in the Gettysburg Cyclorama. These are all grand, masculine gestures that stake their claims into the frontier like so many flagpoles thrust into the surface of the moon, or the wastelands west of the Mississippi.

Charles Munka, forever a guest on the island of Sado, treads more softly. Working on the site of an old Noh stage, his paintings make place by being born of a place, as he suggests in the title: Riken no Ken, to see a detached seeing, to understand at a distance, to grasp formalized beauty and its referent—real, past, or imagined—all in the same instant.

On the exterior of the Haguro Shrine’s stage, he constructs five dark panels, five paintings of negative space that derive their graphic forms from the abstract choreographic manuals of the Noh tradition. The same pattern is repeated topographically, in Adrift, by stacked cairns of scavenged buoys, an object that washes up locally on the tides after being loosened, by nature or by accident or by villainy, from grids engaged in the aquaculture of oysters. They are nautical navigational aids, sculptural reinventions of the diagrams, street signs, and informational graffiti that Munka has lifted from the surfaces of walls, streets, and roadmaps time and time again, from rural France to the dense heart of Hong Kong. One imagines the criss-crossing wakes of the ships that have brought him here. His choreography appears again, a third time, inside of the shrine, but here reversed: crisp black lines on a light canvas, a confusion of routes that may once have traversed this very space, sucking all of the air and all of the history out of a room that nearly collapses under its own weight. Every mark, from beginning to end, is revealed to be intentional.

In making a place for these paintings, in making a place out of these paintings, Munka maps paths that do not move forward but rather pull us backward, spin us around, and deliver us right back to where we started. As viewers we stand at an altar without a specific purpose, other than to remind us that we can see what we are seeking only by stepping back from what is in front of us, to see our own detachment, and to allow the world to wash over us in waves.

by Robin Peckham

Contact Information

Contact by Webpage: http://www.charlesmunka.com/contact

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Quotes, Notes & Etc. Charles Munka is art director for BTS Radio/Records and for Flying Lotus's Brainfeeder label.

Clips (more may be added)

0:08:09
Iki, the island of gods - New Territories
By Charles Munka

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Imagine the world's creative economy at your fingertips. Imagine 10 doors side-by-side. Beyond each, 10 more, each opening to a "creative" somewhere around the planet. After passing through 8 such doorways you will have followed 1 pathway out of 100 million possible (2 sets of doorways yield 10 x 10 = 100 pathways). This is a simplified version of the metamathematics that makes it possible to reach everybody in the global creative economy in just a few steps It doesn't mean that everybody will be reached by everybody. It does mean that everybody can be reached by everybody.

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