Spending the afternoon trying to work out what I think about something, so here are some of the confused ideas currently moving like jumping beans inside my skull
Does culture become worthless if it is too easily accessible?
Does the immediate ability of being able to watch thousands of TV series on netflix, fill your playlist with spotify, and watch the widescreen on phone screens mulch artistic endeavor into something that is just there?
Does it turn everything that is intended for the foreground into background noise.
It is turned from experience to just a thing to occupy your time. How difficult can making a movie or song be when there are so many so immediately available?
Without the quest, is art diminished?
With so much watched individually on laptops, headphones in (not in all public transport), that the delight of shared experience is eroded to some hash-tagged tweets?
And now films and music are things of the ether, their solid cases, cartridges and discs have melted and risen into clouds.
The speed of the demise of music and film being an object has been hasty, looking in the charity shop window, the DVDs and CDs on display are achaic. The possession of shelves will soon be a sign of the Luddite.
Will we continue to discover the intriguing and surprising when our online profile will push bespoke choices on us for the personality and minds we are presumed to have?
Hopefully this is either a glitch or a delusion, but I have recently felt that something has changed with appreciation of the arts. We are drawn to our personal screen where we can experience a wide world we believe we are choosing to, which is really an increasingly myopic and prejudiced vision.
The web gives us opportunities to experience more and more, to expand our cosmopolitan desires, but it can also dress a ghetto as the whole wide world.
I liked the quest to find that Fall ep or that arthouse movie that wasn’t coming to a screen near me, so I had to wait for the holiday trip to the big city to go to that popcorn-less cinema with its trailers and adverts for the exotic and peculiar, and that record shop in Soho where people muttered the unusual. (when Soho was still strange and blush-worthy to a young teen). It was an event. If we reduce the sense of event, does it all become frippery?
Does the epic become handheld flotsam?
I am presenting myself in 3D in Bristol, Southport, Bridgwater, Henley-on-Thames and a town near you soon http://www.robinince.com for all details.
Dead Funny, with stories by Stewart Lee, Sara Pascoe, Charlie Higson and many more is here http://saltpublishing.com/shop/proddetail.php?prod=9781907773761