How to go out of your mind!



Clip from the 1966 documentary How to Go Out of Your Mind: The LSD Crisis, filmed in part at Timothy Leary’s foundation for psychedelic research in Millbrook, N.Y.
Michel Foucault writes:
We can easily see how LSD inverts the relationships of ill humor, stupidity, and thought: it no sooner eliminates the supremacy of cat­egories than it tears away the ground of its indifference and disinte­grates the gloomy dumbshow of stupidity; and it presents this univocal and acategorical mass not only as variegated, mobile, asym­metrical, decentered, spiraloid, and reverberating but causes it to rise, at each instant, as a swarming of phantasm-events. As it slides on this surface at once regular and intensely vibratory, as it is freed from its catatonic chrysalis, thought invariably contemplates this indefinite equivalence transformed into an acute event and a sumptuous, appar­eled repetition… Drugs - if we can speak of them generally - have nothing at all to do with truth and falsity; only to fortune-tellers do they reveal a world “more truthful than the real.” In fact, they displace the relative positions of stupidity and thought by eliminating the old necessity of a theater of immobility. But perhaps, if it is given to thought to confront stupidity, drugs, which mobilize it, which color, agitate, furrow, and dissipate it, which populate it with differences and substitute for the rare flash a continuous phosphorescence, are the source of a partial thought - perhaps (Michel Foucault, “Theatrum Philosophicum”, in Language, Counter-memory, Practice: Selected Essays and Interviews (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1977), pp 189-90).

German Brothel vs German Prison

These photos were taken by the German photographer Juergen Chill. They show the remarkable likenesses between a brothel and a prison cell.
Brothel

German Brothel vs German  Prison Seen On www.coolpicturegallery.us

German Brothel vs German  Prison Seen On www.coolpicturegallery.us

German Brothel vs German  Prison Seen On www.coolpicturegallery.us

German Brothel vs German  Prison Seen On www.coolpicturegallery.us

German Brothel vs German  Prison Seen On www.coolpicturegallery.us

German Brothel vs German  Prison Seen On www.coolpicturegallery.us

Prison

German Brothel vs German  Prison Seen On www.coolpicturegallery.us

German Brothel vs German  Prison Seen On www.coolpicturegallery.us

German Brothel vs German  Prison Seen On www.coolpicturegallery.us

German Brothel vs German  Prison Seen On www.coolpicturegallery.us

German Brothel vs German  Prison Seen On www.coolpicturegallery.us

German Brothel vs German  Prison Seen On www.coolpicturegallery.us

The Opium Factory

These colour lithographs were originally made in 1850 at the request of Walter S. Sherwill, an army officer who served as a British “boundary commissioner” in Bengal. According to Ptak Science Books, these particular reproductions were taken from an article exploring the economic and infrastructural marvels of the Indian opium trade in an 1882 supplement to Scientific American.
They show the main opium receiving, production, and distribution center of the East India Company in Patna, a town in the north-western Bihar province of India. From these vast mixing rooms and examining halls, the Company claimed to produce roughly 13,000,000 pounds of opium annually, which was then shipped down the Ganges to Calcutta, and from there to China.
The image above shows the Examining Hall of the opium factory, where, Scientific American reports, “the consistency of the crude opium as brought from the country in earthen pans is simply tested, either by the touch, or by thrusting a scoop into the mass. A sample from each pot (the pots being numbered and labelled) is further examined for consistency and purity in the chemical test room.”
 
In the Mixing Room (above), which otherwise looks like a somewhat spartan bathhouse, “the contents of the earthen pans are thrown into vats and stirred with blind rakes until the whole mass becomes a homogeneous paste.” Next stop, according to Scientific American, is the high-ceilinged Balling Room, where the opium paste is shaped into small spheres:
Each ball-maker is furnished with a small table, a stool, and a brass cup to shape the ball in a certain quantity of opium and water called ‘Lewa,’ and an allowance of poppy petals, in which the opium balls are rolled. Every man is required to make a certain number of balls, all weighing alike. An expert workman will turn out upwards of a hundred balls a day.

After this, the balls are taking to the Drying Room, where each is placed in an individual earthenware cup. The image below shows “men examining the balls, and puncturing with a sharp style those in which gas, arising from fermentation, may be forming.”

The finished opium balls are stored before shipping in the Stacking Room, where “a number of boys are constantly engaged in stacking, turning, airing, and examining the balls. To clear them of mildew, moths or insects, they are rubbed with dried and crushed poppy petal dust.” Finally, the balls are transferred into cardboard boxes and loaded into ships bound for Calcutta.

This factory — “the architecture of 13,000,000 pounds of opium production,” as Ptak Science Books calls it — is part of a larger British colonial landgrab fueled, at least in part, by pursuit of the immense profits to be earned from an unrestricted drug trade. As Amitav Ghosh, in an interview about his novel, Sea of Poppies, explains, “The Ghazipur and Patna opium factories between them produced the wealth of Britain. It is astonishing to think of it but the Empire was really founded on opium.”
While the buildings at Patna now house a government printing press, the Ghazipur opium factory to which Ghosh refers both was and still is the largest opium factory in the world. It has remained pretty much unchanged since Rudyard Kipling described it in 1888, according to a report in the Bihar Times, and has generated a profit every year since it was founded in 1820. The USA and Japan are the largest opium importers, apparently, having inherited the crown from the Soviet Union following its collapse.
In any case, both factories, as well as the fields of poppies that surrounded them, and even the skyscrapers of Hong Kong, form a living archaeology of the incredible economic influence, infrastructural legacy, and spatial impact of the opium trade. Curiously, in Afghanistan today, one of the reasons why opium is more economically attractive to farmers is infrastructural and architectural: drug traffickers pick up the poppies at the farms, whereas growing a food crop would require farmers to build storage facilities and transport their produce to market.
It’s also interesting to consider these grand, temple-like opium factories alongside contemporary spaces of drug production: the foreclosed tract homes that house America’s meth labs, or the tunnels carved out as part of the U.S.-Mexico border smuggling wars. Perhaps a more accurate analogy is Jeff Wilcox’s “vision” for an industrial-scale marijuana farm and processing facility on a 7.4 acre business park in Oakland (already rewired by PG & E to supply banks of power-hungry grow lamps), as opposed to the unregulated encampments of barbed wire, plastic tubing, and leaky generators currently hidden in Mendocino and Humboldt County’s redwood forests.

Speculative Windows text

For Walter Benjamin, fashion is incorporated by the passage with the full hypnotic force of shop window that is like a narcotic to the flâneur. In the Parisian arcades – the first streets covered with shop windows – the windows are so fabulous that they actually observe the outside world. “Pedestrians in the arcades are so to speak inhabitants of a panorama. [...] They are observed from the windows but they themselves cannot see in.” The shop window is the space of visual speculation. It is the stage of visual ecstasy, fashion’s place of seduction. In the 19th century, the window ceased to be an architectural opening for light and ventilation and became its modern function of framing a view. In this sense, the shop window can be regarded as the window of fashion, which demonstrates inside itself, the ever-changing fashion.
 
As Benjamin illustrates, the era of glass architecture begins in department stores with their rows of display windows and grand light courts or light wells. For him, the collective, dream-like unconscious of the modern industrial age is to be found in the transparency of the glass that consistently exteriorises the interior. Glass, with its main properties of transparency and protection, keeps the outside out and at the same time brings it in. Its transparency forces a two way model of visuality: framing a private view outward (the picture window) and framing a public view inward (the display window). Commodities, seductively shown behind the glass surface of the shop window, frame the gaze of passing flâneurs and increase their desire for purchase.
Richard Sennett has illustrated glass as a “material, which lets [us] see everything inaccessible to desire.”One can look through but cannot touch, which means, desire, but not possess. Thus, the view trough the shop window reduces street life to merely viewing. It allows vision but prohibits touch and sound, which intensify the desire of consumers and make commodities “look better than they really are.” The shop window becomes a dream world of material pleasure and of the phantasmagoria of commodities.
Salvador Dali was commissioned to design two display windows at ‘Bonwit Teller’, a fashionable New York department store on Fifth Avenue. One of the Displays symbolizes ‘Day’, and the other ‘Night’. For  ‘Day’, Dali places a frightful wax mannequin, which is stepping into an old-fashioned hairy bathtub lined with astrakhan and filled with water, from which three wax arms arise holding mirrors.  For ‘Night’, in the other window, he shows another frightful mannequin lying on a bed, whose canopy is made of a buffalo head that carries a bloody pigeon in its mouth; the feet of the bed are the feet of the buffalo.
 
When arriving to see the reaction of his windows he was shocked that “everything, absolutely everything, had been changed,” because shoppers have raised such a hue and cry at the shocking display. With anger Dali sees the changes, and asks the gentleman from the management to remove his name. After their uncooperative talk, he goes to overturn his hairy bathtub of the ‘Day’ window. It crashes through the plate glass of the display window, and he falls through the broken window. Time Magazine among others reports this happening: “‘Oomph’ went the tub as he jerked it from the moorings. ‘Crash’ went Bonwit Teller’s beautiful plate-glass window as the small struggling artist and his tub went through it and lit ‘bang’ on the sidewalk.”
Some other print media, including Art Digest, suspects the apparent accident was a publicity stunt. Dali is arrested because of this accident, which is a big spectacle that made all the New Yorkers and the newspapers talk of him.
Far from being incidental, high fashion is always central to Surrealism’s project, providing raw material, a model of craft-based production and theatrical modes of presentation, all of which prove a fertile ground for Surrealism’s obsessions: the fetish and the dream. Fashion is obviously at the heart of Surrealist interest, and becomes an important part of their visual language.
Following Louis Aragon, the co-founder of Surrealism, fashion is the element, which is common to all forms of modernity. In one of his most well-known works “Le Paysan de Paris” from 1926, Aragon identifies the passage with the ‘Théâtre Moderne’. He sees the passage as the site of erotic spectacles, where commodities on shop windows are more actors than the prostitutes. The shop window becomes the stage, the space of performance, and the spectacle. And the passage becomes an ocean as walking sticks in a shop window turn into see animals.
In his essay “Some Notes on Shop Windows” Friedrich Kiesler proposes that the shop window should be performing a play, starring Mr. Hat and Miss Glove. He refers to the shop window as a peepshow stage, describing the street as the auditorium (of the theatre) with constantly changing viewers. He concludes with a rhetorical question, asking if anybody has written a play for commodities yet. The shop window is a central issue in several of Kiesler’s works, in which he wants to attract the attention of the observers and turn them into active viewers, to awaken their desire to purchase.  In 1930, he publishes an extensive work on shop windows titled ‘Contemporary Art Applied to the Store and its Display’, focusing on the topics of contemporary art and architecture and their relation to consumer culture. He maintains the significance of the commercial market for art and architecture, since he sees the department store as an important conduit through which to communicate with the public. He even calls one of the chapters “Contemporary Art Reached the Masses Through the Store.” The department store is regarded as “the true introducer of modernism to the public at large. It reveals contemporary art to American commerce.” It should be “the interpreter for the populace of a new spirit in art.“ It should be an active agent  – or sender – of the message of contemporary art and architecture. And it should function to bring the new of art to the public.



A Rolling Master Plan

This project is great fun, it is by a Swedish architecture firm jagnefalt milton and was been awarded third prize for 'a rolling master plan', their proposed development for the idea competition of Andalsnes in Norway. 

The design utilizing new and existing train tracks to create a diverse system where buildings roll through the city on rails, providing an opportunity to reorganize programmatic requirements in relation to the urban space. The mobile flexibility allows the city to adjust for uses such as concerts, festivals, markets, and seasonal changes.

The integration of mobile structures - including a rolling hotel, public bath and concert hall - has the
potential to transform the city into a dense, integrated and continually changing scenography. 
the temporary, small-scale structures sets the 'city in motion', providing an important connection
between the land and the sea.





Melissa Clinch

Melissa Clinch uses ideas of architectural anamorphosis to create a series of spaces and semiotics that inhabit that great exposition of anamorphic painting Ignatius of Loyola Church in Rome. The church has an anamorphic painted ceiling and an extraordinary painted anamorphic dome. From certain positions in the nave the dome looks perfectly real in others is reveals it for what it is a distorted painted form on the ceiling. Clinch position a three dimensional forms within the church that create fluctuating architectural spaces according to the dynamics of the observer. These spaces open and collapse as one moves and help the viewer understand the science of anamorphic projection and also the rituals and history of the church. These objects operate like four-dimensional hypertexts.



Shaun Tan

The following images are by Shaun Tan, an Australian artist who creates beautiful graphic novels for children.  I think there is an attraction to these images that an adult cannot deny and there is something uncanny about about the fairy tale that speaks to our inner child. It is the fairy tale that teaches us great moral virtue and something contemporary society wants us to deny as we grow older. In Freudian terms there is a strong connection to our animal origins and we can take the fairy tale Beauty & the Beast as an example of a story that emotively connects the audience to the animal or so called "evil" character in order to reveal their true beauty and the ugly honesty of a xenophobic society.





 

Jan Dibbet

Jan Dibbets (born 9 May 1941, Weert), is a Dutch conceptual artist. These collages of photographs with pencil have a unique architectural quality, they were designed for his exhibition at the Zadkine museum in Paris in 2004 and it is said that he was inspired by the building itself.