"David
Byrne Talking Back"
By Eric Lorberer, Rain Taxi,
Issue #16, Winter 1999/2000
"In the
future TV will be so good that the printed
word will function as an art form only." —
from "Music
for the Knee Plays"
You are one of our era's most gifted lyricists,
and you integrate text into your artwork in unusual
ways. Have you derived any inspiration from other
writers? What do you like to read?
Loads of inspiration...as a teen and during art
school days I was reading Burroughs, Zap comix,
Zen...you know the story...by the time I moved
to NYC and was writing songs and making artworks
I was reading a lot of systems theory and cybernetics -- Norbert
Weiner, Stafford Beer, Gregory Bateson and others.
I had hopes of integrating this bizarrely analytical
approach to the creation of music and art. I believe,
and hope, that some of this intention was ironic -- that
by assuming a cool approach to hot subjects the
absurdity of the whole situation would be obvious.
But, to be honest, I loved the vibe and surface
impression of academic texts...I was enthralled
by the Art&Language group's publication for
a while, partly I believe for their cool surface
and the "poetry", if one can call it
that, of extremely obtuse and sometimes poorly
written academic essays. I didn't get stuck reading
only this stuff. I've read Borges, Kafka, Phillip
K. Dick, Ballard, and even quite a few contemporary
fiction writers...but mostly I read non-fiction,
most recently history. I recently read a tome by
a French historian, the late F. Braudel, called "The
Structure of Everyday Life" -- another cool
academic title for something slippery and elusive.
Songwriters from Dylan to Lou Reed have published
books of their lyrics; others from Leonard Cohen
to Eno have published everything from novels to
diaries. Aside from the text elements woven into
your photography books, do you ever feel the impulse
to publish outside of the musical setting?
No, I feel that, maybe some of the above writers
aside, most lyric writing shouldn't be separated
from the rhythm and melody that informs it. The
strengths and beauty in great lyric writing is
in its relationship to these other elements, in
contradiction with them, or riding them like a
wave. It's reviewers bias to emphasize the words,
which, while they're often good, are only a part
of the whole -- and are often weak and stupid when
left alone.
"Crossed Wires" from Strange
Ritual is
one of the most personal things you've ever written,
and in fact most of the writing in that book is
relatively intimate. I'm interested in whether
these texts did come out of any "private" writings
(such as diaries) and whether this atypical writing
was difficult.
Yeah, I keep a kind of journal of ideas, thoughts,
reactions, lyric beginnings, remembered phrases
and utterances...some of which get elaborated later...and
some of them can maybe stand alone.
Much of your artwork employs irony, kitsch,
and pan-cultural elements -- three hallmarks of
postmodernism -- but
in the essay that accompanies The
Forest you write "we're
a lot less modern than we think we are." Do
you consider yourself a postmodernist?
I guess so, if the other choice is to ally myself
with the makers of all that beautiful but uncomfortable
furniture, that brutal inhuman architecture and
those big painting that decorate corporate lobbies.
However, any movement like postmodernism that defines
itself in relationship to another is kind of pathetic.
A lot of modernist ideas I still hold dear -- the
love affair with engineering structures -- grain
silos, steel mills, dams and bridges....the aesthetic
of no aesthetic, I guess, which is still very attractive,
but maybe now we've become more open, more inclusive,
allowing Club Flyers, Kustom Kars, Asian theater
and films, Outsider artists and others into the
fold.
Both Strange Ritual and Your Action
World are
lavishly and complexly designed books. Did you
play a large role in creating these books as objects -- and
did they satisfy your vision as such?
My ambition with these books was to create some
kind of entity, or thing, that was both an artist's
book (i.e. a work in itself) and a book of photos.
I see lots of other, more ordinary publications
that are also "things". Telephone books,
instruction manuals, corporate reports, gift books,
collections of inspirational slogans, advertising
supplements, catalogues with attitude. These are
literature too, but literature with a purpose,
as a tool. Maybe I see my books that way too. With "Strange
Ritual" I was confronted with the "problem" of
showing lots of images, but not as individual works
of art. I desperately didn't want these to look
like standard photo books, one picture to a page
and white borders around each one. I also didn't
feel many of the picture stood alone, some yes,
but many needed to be seen in series. That, and
letting many of them bleed off the pages made them
seem less precious, maybe less arty...and would,
I hoped, allow the casual viewer to see what they
were pictures of, rather than seeing my impressive
composition and technique, or sometimes lack of
it. Another way of making the images less precious
was to mix the text in with them....as much as
possible given the possibility of future foreign
editions, for which the text elements would have
to be changed. Gary Kupke, the designer, instigated
may of these graphic directions, which pleased
me immensely. I also attempted to ape the look
of Bibles or other tomes in the cover and binding,
but this was only partly successful, it looks more
like a sketchbook.
For the second one, Your Action
World, I limited
the selection of work more severely. When I approached
the designer, Stephan Sagmeister, I mentioned corporate
reports and motivational materials as possible
visual references, since many, but not all, of
my recent work has been obsessed with the worlds
of persuasion, media and advertising. Stephan loved
the idea and took it even further than I had originally
imagined. The border between what is design and
what are, or were, my original pieces is blurred
to invisibility. My photos and texts became the
raw materials for another work. The book. We created
a thing that could almost, at a stretch, be mistaken
for a super glossy promotional item, issued by
some huge corporation. Which is exactly what I
wanted. That area of confused identify and intention
allows for more unusual connections to be made
than in a form where the work is clearly "art".
Just as your lyrics moved from persona-based narratives
to more collage-oriented combinations of language,
the text in Strange Ritual feels almost
documentary next to the slippery aphorisms that
make up Your Action World. Is this
progression something that you strive for or think
about?
I feel that Your Action World has
a narrower focus, so the text was, yes, created
and found to fit the visual context.
One of the fun things about Your
Action World is that it has "chapters" -- titles
which ask the reader to reflect on the photographic
groupings thematically. Did you work with these
themes in mind or did they come later?
The "chapters" were added by Stefan,
partly as a way to incorporate some of the techno
surreal mood of the materials we were allowing
to influence us -- the calendars, self-help manuals
and the copywriting in current advertising, and
partly they were slipped in as a way to separate
the various series of photos and images we wanted
to include.
At the heart of this book is the "title track";
a fotonovela which you've verbally "scored" with
everything from corporate utopia-speak to violent
rap passages. How did you come to write this?
You're right, this text was originally a collage
of texts created for a acoustiguide piece which
accompanied exhibitions of some of these images.
It was like those walkman-like things you get in
museums, but instead of telling you what internal
and personal struggles the artist was going through
at a particular time, it was an audio equivalent
to the images. The texts are mixtures of inspirational
materials, travel advertising, my own writing,
and some gangsta rap lyrics. On the tape they were
read by actors, and were accompanied by "stock" music,
as many of the scenic backgrounds on these photo
pieces were also from stock houses. So, it seemed
natural, incorporating this text into the book,
to also use stock images, but his time of people.
Some of the aphoristic sayings in this
book reminded me of Eno's "oblique strategies." Do
you ever use chance techniques in your writing?
Well, yes, but I guess I do it intuitively. Brian's
cards, which are funny and sometimes useful, are,
to me, an outward manifestation of an internal
process. They make the invisible visible.
One of the ideas that recurs in your work
is the unreality of people's faces -- in "Seen And
Not Seen" a man tries to make his face resemble
mediated images; in "Crossed Wires" you
write about how all our facial expressions try
but fail to truly communicate our emotional states,
and now this doll of your own image takes up the
theme in Your Action World. Where do
you think this obsession comes from? "12 Moral
Questions" is a particularly vivid and disturbing
text/image combination in this book. Is morality
no longer an option in our mediated culture?
Sure moral behavior is an option. But we're still
mainly animal, and big fish eat the little fish
etc. etc...although there's often lots of animal
behavior that seems to us altruistic, most of it
is beyond good and bad, moral or immoral. One hopes
for less suffering and more compassion...but without
sentimentality or denial. By putting moral options
in the form of a Cosmopolitan-type personality
quiz I can laugh at our puny attempts at correctness.
If Strange Ritual was a travel diary
in search of the spiritual or its residue, Your
Action World is an indictment of the corporate
takeover of our consciousness that makes such a
search difficult; you write that you desire "to
stem the tide of images and bullying texts that
assault all of us, by building dikes and dams of
my own images and texts." How do you think
art helps stem the tide?
Well, art speaks, sometimes, in the language of
the unconscious. When it's not bullshit. As do
songs and stories. So it's not always easy to say
what it means, but it's sometimes obvious what
it feels and wants. And art is a way of talking
back...of one person, or a small group of people,
giving voice, or image, to something that concerns
many people. They can "say" what is on
their minds, and often other people recognize it
as something they've been feeling, but haven't
been able to iterate or verbalize. So the art,
even if it's gruesome, disgusting or bizarre is
a positive force -- a small effort against the weight
of the crowd, which always, by its nature, speaks
to our lowest, basest instincts.