Whatever you now find weird, ugly, uncomfortable and nasty about a new medium will surely become its signature. CD distortion, the jitteriness of digital video, the crap sound of 8-bit - all of these will be cherished and emulated as soon as they can be avoided. It’s the sound of failure: so much modern art is the sound of things going out of control, of a medium pushing to its limits and breaking apart. The distorted guitar sound is the sound of something too loud for the medium supposed to carry it. The blues singer with the cracked voice is the sound of an emotional cry too powerful for the throat that releases it. The excitement of grainy film, of bleached-out black and white, is the excitement of witnessing events too momentous for the medium assigned to record them.
I was just reading one of Francis Schaeffer's books this morning; he was describing musique concrète, a predecessor of electronic music in which recorded sounds are mechanically manipulated to produce distorted effects.
"Musique concrète is real sound, but seriously distorted. In the beginning it was created by jumping grooves on a phonographic record. Later Pierre Schaeffer invented a machine by which the distortions can be carefully controlled. With his machine he can lift out the source of the sound, split it up, reverse it, slow it down or speed it up, in fact do just about anything to alter it. To hear the result is to distrust your ears, just as in Op Art you begin to distrust your eyes."
I like how in your quote Eno said "so much modern art is the sound of things going out of control, of a medium pushing to its limits and breaking apart". I think Schaeffer would agree -- the distortion of sound is an artistic expression of the hope finding a universal in the breaking apart of particulars.
That is a beautiful quote, I had never read it. Novelty and ever growing detail of artistic creation have their limits and their downsides. Video games are an excellent example of this. Take early 3D games like Thief, a steampunk thief simulator game with blocky, polygonal graphics. In the game, you navigate fairly simple geometric environments looking for loot, avoiding guards and exploring the world. In this simplistic setting, interactive objects are clearly visible: a key, or a pile of gold, or a golden goblet. These are all visible as objects in the world. You see a key on a table and you pick it up. The simplicity of graphics allows for extremely clear visual communication and a highly immersive experience. You explore the world with your eyes and ears and wits alone.
Fast forward to today's AAA games, dense in extremely complex and detailed graphics. The player can no longer spot the key on the table or the pile of gold coins, there is too much noise, too much novelty, too much density... so now games have glowing icons showing you where to look and what to pick up. Minimaps to keep you oriented in the level. But what happens? The player is no longer immersed in the world, seeking loot with their own eyes, they are simply following the glowing icons, sleepwalking through the game world. All the detail and artwork glazed over and ignored. The game no longer succeeds at visual communication, because it is too dense, and in its quest for realism has actually lost immersion.
Why do so many people love Monet's impressionistic art when other artists have painted far more realistic flowers and fields? Why is it that some of the greatest art of all time came from limitations? Why do people love movies with practical effects more than those with the most impossible and incredibly detailed CGI effects? I think your quote really captures the truth that AI and ever growing ease and detail of artistic creation can never replace the raw beauty of humans doing their best with limited tools.
Yes, this is why Elden ring is so amazing. It keeps both of those and does hold your hand for finding things. On my first play though I was constantly amazed by all the things that I discovered by accident.
Brian Eno,