I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t chronically online. It’s something I both love and hate about myself. I love it because I feel like I get to discover all this really cool stuff that I’d never otherwise even be exposed to. I hate it because I’m fully convinced that any mental distress I have would be completely cured, and I’d be the most functional person on the planet if I wasn’t so bogged down with the overwhelming nature of the internet. Instead, I am here, once again, going to write about something viral that moved me to write!

I wrote a couple months ago about viral criticisms of art that weren’t meant to be consumed out of context online. Today, I’m going to talk about an audio clip that very much found a home quite nicely in Reels and TikTok videos - completely out of context! Perhaps you’ve heard the audio clip, if your FYP is a bit on the weird side: two women are discussing perfume, and then their discussion devolves into a story about a woman microwaving her dog, and then back to a song about perfume. It’s recognizable for its sing-songy “no no no no no” sound, which is often the part most used in the viral videos.

I love weird things, so naturally I was curious about origins. One of the things that annoy me about social media is the fact you don’t have to name original sources. Not everyone’s sound is wrapped up in a copyright protected by a big company that comes after people! And no one named the source in the comments, which I fully admit I spend a lot of time combing. It’s frustrating!
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It wasn’t until one fateful day that someone posted a Reel (yes shut up I’m elderly and don’t use TT often!) with the original clip of the audio. Again, no credit to the owner of this audio and video. Again, comments were not helpful, however, there was an actual demand from commenters wanting the title of the video, names of actors, etc. I took descriptions of the video and looked on Reddit, where I finally found a link to the original video and some actual information. God bless, Reddit.

The audio source of these viral videos I had seen was from a short horror musical shot on analog video in 1983 called “Possibly in Michigan.” It was directed by award winning video artist Cecelia Condit, and stars Karen Skladany (who also scores the project), and Jill Sands. They are stalked by a cannibal in a mask named Arthur before the violent, unexpected ending. The short film explores violence against women, but it plays on our expectations in such a delightful way. It uses an experimental narrative to tell the story, and like a genuine musical, the music moves the plot along.

After I finally connected the audio and video, I was more easily able to find tons of information, including a NYT article that is honestly a great read. I watched a video interview of her on YouTube as well and just in general went into a deep dive into Condit and her work. I was amused to learn that the creator of one of the most deeply moving and creepy short horrors actually hates horror herself! This film I searched for at least fifteen minutes on the internet for actually resides at MoMA, not to mention has gone viral many times before. When it was released, the 700 Club showed the ending to highlight the dangers of contemporary and modern art encouraging gay, anti-men sentiment, and violent tendencies. So inspiring! How could I not be fan-girling? While I did take as many courses in film school dedicated to experimental works as I could, I still was never exposed to Condit, and I’m a little sad about it! Condit is also former professor of film at UW-Milwaukee (so close to where I currently live!). 

I encourage you to watch the short film, and even learning more about Condit. Her views on art, going viral in her 70s, her new connection with GenZ, and the internet in general is refreshing and interesting to boot. 
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It’s fun, it’s weird, and it has a catchy song about cannibalism. Bye bye!

Ah yes. It's butter being slapped, of course!

Post modern and contemporary art are probably some of the most divisive topics I know. Everyone has a strong opinion about it. Generally, it’s one of anger! How dare they! Don’t they know what real art is? Anyone could make this shit.
Ah. There we are.

Does the fact that “anyone” could do it make it less likely to be art? What does that say about our biases on ability? What does that say about our encouragement of the budding child artist? What does it, most importantly, say about us? 
The title of this post is referring to a viral video I saw on Instagram of someone criticizing an artist slapping a block of butter with a tiny microphone. In fact, I’ve had so many discussions about this very video with several people that it lead me to start blogging on Substack! The person criticizing the artist makes claims along the lines of “this isn’t real art” or “it’s a scam” and there’s absolutely a subtext to his comments that “this is some academic liberal bullshit” (not his words, I’m just mind reading). His response, and so many in the comments, are of extreme, vitriolic anger. Everyone, it seems, is pretty confident this isn’t art!

Earlier today, I showed my 8 year old son a music video by The Wallflowers called “Sleepwalker.” It’s pretty standard 90s stuff with various Americana symbolism and of course, performing with instruments along with the track. At the end of the video, I asked him what he thought.

“Why did he put headphones in a dead fish?”

A lot of parents might respond with something along the lines of “it’s just a silly video” and the discussion ends. Instead, I walked him through it.

Me: “That’s a good question. Let’s think about it. What do headphones do?”
Son: “Make you listen to music.”
M: “And what would you hear if you plugged it into a dead fish?”
S: “Nothing.”
M: “Why?”
*A conversation discussing how the plug gets sound lol*
M: “Okay, so now we have established he can’t hear anything. What else would he experience in the room?”
S: “The smell of a dead fish.”
M: “Which is…?”
S: “Stinky!”
M: “Okay so we’ve got no sound and a stinky fish.”
S: “So… if he knows that there will be no sound and it’ll be stinky, why would he still plug in his headphones?”

Dear reader. The excitement that burst from me from this question. He got it. He got the whole, very, fucking, point. Why would someone do that? We could revisit the video, talk about the other symbolism, maybe draw on the lyrics, and come up with the bigger picture, but my son was satisfied: he understood the absurdity, and the intention around that particular scene.
While I haven’t talked to everyone in the world, I haven’t seen many people violently telling Jakob Dylan he’s a hack because of his dead fish antics. What does he have that the butter artist does not?

Context. 

Their butter slapping performance was clipped and set free on social media with no context, reached none of the right audiences, and on a platform that wasn’t meant for it (I could argue this might very well change but I digress). 
The artist is Tallulah Haddon, a queer British Jewish actor and performer. Their butter slapping was performance art inspired by a candle maker during the Holocaust. Performance art is often jeered when taken out of context because it so heavily depends on it. 

Think of it this way: 
You walk into a planetarium and stand towards the edge of the room right by the exit. After the show, you’re disappointed and mildly pissed because it wasn’t very good. Why? You were standing, not lying in the specially made seats, so your view of the stars wasn’t great. Perhaps your legs were tired from standing, your head from craning. Maybe you were frequently disturbed by people entering and exiting by the door you were hovering.

Context matters! How we view art, the world, and others is heavily dependent on context. So, how can we go forward approaching our experiences with art?

I shouldn’t have to say this but I will: I am not telling you what art to like. We all have personal preferences. You can and absolutely should be critical of art! You should be critical of the context! Do not blindly accept what people tell you (including me!). But there is a big difference between “I like all art” and “I think this artist shouldn't be allowed to ever breathe again” (seriously, what’s wrong with those people?). You also don’t actually have the right to tell someone what’s art or who’s an artist. Does that bother you? Why? Did you know YOU (yes YOU) could make art? Are you worried it won’t be good? Are you worried people will hate it? Why? What do you think it takes to be an artist? These are great questions to start asking yourself next time you’re offended by someone creating something and calling themselves an artist. If your first thought is, well I can do that, then do it. Do it. 
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And then show me, so I can appreciate it.