Erkki Kurenniemi ‎- 'Rules' (Full Contact)

I'm going to use this record as an excuse to rant about a topic that is probably not even relevant anymore, but I connect it to Rules specifically. I'm pretty sure this is the only LP in the accumulation that was purchased at an art biennial, though being that it was Documenta 2012, I suppose I should refer to it as a quintennial (or whatever it's technically classified as). Documenta 2012 had a lovely and large retrospective on Kurenniemi's instruments there, as well as numerous other sound art works on exhibition, most by the big names of the time - Janet Cardiff, Susan Philipsz, etc.  It was all part of a clearly deliberate attempt to recognise 'sound art' as being very much of the 'now', of the contemporary, at least as it looked in 2012. I don't remember much now about these sound works, but felt at the time – even before arriving – that the selection of sound artists was pretty obvious, like a curator who wasn't super familiar with sound art just looked up the top names from Wikipedia and invited them. That's probably closer to the truth than anyone would admit, and echoes the experiences I've had in the art world, where I frequently wonder why visual art people are unwilling extend their interest in avant-garde aesthetics to the world of music. Actually, I no longer wonder about this much, because I don't care much about the narrow tastes of visual art people anymore, and also because the answers are rather obvious (the financial/educational system wrapped around visual art provides a historical and academic context, while music is still generally a populist, market-driven sector, blah blah blah) and people have even written books about it (Fear of Music by David Stubbs is a quick, OK read that mostly emphasises these same points). Anyway, I don't mean this as a dig against the curator since she otherwise did a brilliant job, with the visual art at least. Documenta 2012 was probably the pinnacle of contemporary art as I've seen it – in many ways the 'last' step for me, since I have struggled to find much of interest in the vacuous, decaying carcass of that cultural sphere – despite the mostly forgettable stock list of sound art superstars dotting the periphery of Kassel. Anyway (and, I'm sorry, we're only about halfway through the rant, let alone actually talking about Rules), there was a small concert of several contemporary Finnish musicians performing on Kurenniemi's instruments that were in the exhibition, as they were still functional.  A friend of mine was playing, so I went and tried my best to enjoy it. The press descended on this like vultures, though to be fair it was the official 'press' preview of the whole exhibition so they were supposed to swarm like that. It was actually hard to hear the sounds over the constant digital camera clicks and flashes, and I realised halfway through that not only was nobody listening, but nobody there knew how to listen. Kurenniemi's embrace by the contemporary art mafia was due largely to the strong visual appeal of his creations, as well as the general sense of nostalgia, hauntology, etc that was attractive at the time. Essentially, they looked cool with all of their lights and knobs, fitting a general analogue fetishism which has persisted throughout my entire adult life, and that's all that mattered. The music, the sounds: absolutely secondary. And you know what? This really annoyed me, because up to that point I had always identified myself as coming from a music-world network background that thrived precisely because it was unconnected to commercial or critical recognition in the fine art world. I was working (and still occasionally work) in and around a less explicitly musical art context and I initially found a lot of liberation in this opening up of parameters, as starting to bring strange sounds into an art context could bring in larger audiences and potential career growth. But something happened to me at Documenta in that precise moment, which is that I realised how the wonderful thing about music is that it always has and always will have total freaks and weirdos making noises in their basement, and these freaks and weirdos have built over time and necessity a truly vast, amorphous and undefinable network that is united through passion, enthusiasm, and truth. Some of these freaks may get their moment in the sun of recognition in a larger art context, though only probably if they fit into the social narrative of whatever current is hot in art. I'm channeling Carducci here and I don't want to start sounding anti-diversity or even close, but I'll get back to my main point - let's go back to the basement, or stay there to begin with. The art world can fuck off; if you want to love and celebrate music, then love it and celebrate it for the correct reasons, because you actually love it. There's no one telling you that you can or cannot dub your own cassette in an edition of 10 with whatever fucked up and strange sounds you want there to be; everyone is genuinely permitted to participate in music, and you don't need any validation from an academy, curator or gallerist to be part of it. (Yes I know there are music academies but that's not what I'm talking about). Nor am I talking about Kurenniemi himself - he worked in a university context, and the brilliance and singularity of his music deserves to be heard, and I'm sure whatever late-life financial benefits he's received from interest in his work has been beneficial and appreciated. But the presentation of it to a cabal of the contemporary art media is really what pushed me over the edge, and I've never been quite the same. Oh, and what about Rules itself? It's great, mastered well (I remember my friend proclaiming that the remastering of 'OnOff' here brought out qualities he had never heard before, to the point where it sounded like a different piece entirely), and you should have it.