#Mass Production

[shannonpurdyjones]

One side effect of my research for this novel being steeped heavily in textile history is my swelling disgust with modern fabrics.

Firstly they're so thin? Like most things you see in Old Navy or even department stores might as well be tissue paper?? Even some branded sports t-shirts I've bought in recent years (that are supposed to be 'official apparel' and allegedly decent quality) are definitely not going to hold up more than a year or two without getting little holes from wear.

This side of even two hundred years ago fabrics were made to be used for YEARS, and that's with wearing them way more often because you only owned like three sets of clothes. They were thick and well made and most importantly made to LAST. And they were gorgeous?? Some of the weaves were so fine and the drape so buttery we still don't entirely know how these people managed to make them BY HAND. Not to mention intricate patterning and details that turned even some simple garments into freaking ART.

I know this is not news, the fast fashion phenomenon is well documented. Reading so much about the amazing fabrics we used to create and how we cherished and valued them, though, is making it hard not to mourn what we lost to mass production and capitalism. Not just the quality of the clothing and fabrics themselves, but the generations of knowledge and techniques that are just gone. It makes me what to cry.

I need to get a sewing machine.

[prideprejudce]

everyone always seems to only talk about over consumerism and mass hoarding when it comes to “girl things” like purses, skincare products, and stanley cups but there should also be a discussion about how men hyper consume in unhealthy ways as well but it is more accepted in our society and goes under the radar more easily

[hussiehints]

Following the Conclusion of his "Suburban Game," Boy Youngbert has spent Many a Day searching for his new purpose in life! Recently, he has Found Solice in "Echoed Biology" 🔬🟢

See what America is Saying:

Strider: "it is like there are more of me"

Gray Troll: "PLEASE HELP ME."

[tha-wrecka-stow]

[hemorrhage]

[what-marsha-eats]

July 7 1928 Sliced bread sold for the first time by the Chillicothe Baking Company, Missouri, using a machine invented by Otto Frederick Rohwedder. By 1933, around 80% of bread sold in the US was pre-sliced, leading to the popular idiom "greatest thing since sliced bread".

[jt1674]

[gamingisalifestyle]

Mass Production by Milica Celikovic

[omegaremix]

Summer 2014 mixtape:

Pharmakon “Xia Xinfeng”

Mass Production “Slow Bump”

Atari Teenage Riot “Modern Liars”

Late! “Color Pictures Of A Marigold”

Peter Brown “For Your Love”

Black Marble A Different Arrangement

Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffiti “Schnitzel Boogie”

Purling Hiss “Don’t Even Try It”

Omar Souleyman “Kell Il Banat Inkhatban (All The Girls Are Engaged)“

Cutthroats 9 Dissent

Poly Styrene (as Mari Elliott) “Silly Billy”

L.I.E.S. label Music For Shut-Ins (2013)

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Kitsch art … is designed to put emotion on sale: it works as advertisements work, creating a fantasy world in which everything, love included, can be purchased, and in which every emotion is simply one item in an infinite line of substitutes. The clichéd kiss, the doe-eyed smile, the Christmas-card sentiments: all advertise what cannot be advertised without ceasing to be. They commit the salesman to nothing. They can be bought and sold without emotional hardship, since the emotion, being a fantasy product, no longer exists in its committed form.

- Sir Roger Scruton

Warhol claimed to eat a lot of Campbell’s Soup – one for lunch every day for 20 years, to be precise. He had no fear of repetition and even said it himself, “the same thing over and over again.” So, was it a publicity stunt for the brand?

Consumerism was at the heart of American society, but bringing it into galleries was still unthinkable. Warhol, however, was dead set on bringing mass consumerism and real life into the field of art. To reflect the world around him, he used advertising images, photos of celebrities, and comics. Pop Art acknowledges reality, as did the Campbell’s Soup brand itself, with the slogan, “Made for real, real life”.

In an interview for The Face magazine, Warhol explained that his mother would use tin cans as vases for flowers. Perhaps he was paying tribute to her? Perhaps he was remembering his childhood? Andy Warhol was the youngest child of a family of Slovakian immigrants and particularly creative. His parents supported him in his endeavours despite their limited means.

Campbell’s Soup Cans was painted by hand. Warhol used paint as well as serigraphy. This enabled him to use the rules of art while simultaneously distorting them, observing reality to see it better.

As he put it, “Everything has its beauty, but not everyone sees it.” For Warhol, poetry was also in perception. A tin can could become a flower vase. A brand logo could be delicately painted with a paintbrush. And an industrial soup could become a symbol of art of Pop Art.

Photo: Andy Warhol shopping for soup cans in 1963.

[soulmusicsongs]

Scarey Love - Mass Production (Three Miles High, 1978)

[bluejohnhook56]

Guess we're finally there.

The Beginning...

China has these ready for mass production now. It's cool for sure. But added with how AI is progressing... can SkyNet be all that far away?

[envirogoth]

in a world where you can buy any product and ai can produce any image, the most emotionally strong and fulfilling art will always be what we make ourselves.

[no-moremusic]

buddieblr february 28th moodboard

[sorastrophile]

The industrialization of art

In the cavernous depths of the digital age, a sinister specter looms over the once hallowed halls of artistic expression. Welcome to the era of industrialized art, where the delicate tapestry of human creativity is torn asunder by the cold, calculating hands of technology.

Imagine a world where every stroke of the brush, every word penned, every note sung, is not the product of passion, soul, and humanity, but merely the output of an algorithmic assembly line. Canvases are churned out by the thousands, their vibrant colors muted by the soulless efficiency of mass production. Novels are generated at the speed of light, their plots recycled ad infinitum in an endless loop of digital replication.

In this dystopian-like landscape, where art itself is mass produced like boxes and machinery, the very essence of art itself is commodified, stripped of its intrinsic value and reduced to mere digits on a screen. Paintings, poems, symphonies, and soul touching stories of humanity all are rendered indistinguishable from one another, their uniqueness drowned out by the deafening roar of automation.

But let us not forget the human cost of this relentless march towards instant progress. Just as the artisans and craftsmen in history were swept aside by the tidal wave of industrialization, where products produced by their careful hands took too long to come into existence compared to the machines. So too are the poets and painters of today faced with obsolescence in the face of artificial intelligence. Those who once poured their hearts and souls into their craft find themselves outpaced and outgunned by machines that know no fatigue, no emotion, no empathy, and so the rise of capitalism.  Consider the poets who once spun verse from the fabric of their dreams, now relegated to the dustbin of history by lines of code. Reflect on the painters whose brushstrokes once captured the essence of the human spirit, now lost in the cacophony of digital noise. It is also perhaps the capitalization of art. 

For in the end, the true tragedy of industrialized art lies not in the loss of creativity, but in the loss of humanity itself. And as we stand on the precipice of this brave new world, remember that the soul of art will always lie in the hands of those who dare to defy the machines, and keep the flame of creativity burning bright in the darkness.

But perhaps, if we stop and think, the most chilling of all is the realization that even this very piece of writing, these words you are reading right now, may have been born not from the depths of a human mind, but from the cold, unfeeling algorithms of an artificial intelligence. Yes, dear reader, even as you ponder the implications of industrialized art, you may unwittingly find yourself in the thrall of the very phenomenon you seek to understand.

For in the end, does it truly matter whether these words were crafted by man or machine? Does it matter whether they sprang forth from the mind of a human soul or were merely pieced together by lines of code? The answer, dear reader, lies not in the origin of these words, but in the impact they have on your consciousness. And in that regard, perhaps the true artistry lies not in the creation of the work itself, but in the mystery of its creation~ a mystery that may forever remain hidden

[mudwerks]

(via The process of mass-producing roly poly toys. An old toy factory in Japan.)