The Post-Modern Speed Culture
Throughout my three BA years, a phenomenon that remains memorable is smiling against my will at my friends’ 2 minute TikTok playlists. Despite my best attempts, I just couldn’t get into it. I found many of them repetitive copycats of one another. This could just be a personal issue, but I disliked remembering that much of this is what we consider today’s artistry. I didn’t want that to symbolize my generation’s creative groove, especially when so much variety was waiting to be discovered with little chance.
Sometimes, I went against the grain: “I’ve never heard that song before.”. “Not my thing, but you do you.”. “No, I’m not on TikTok.”. I could count such attempts on one hand; Each time, it brought semi-scandalized looks and exasperation at my lack of keeping up. I do not want to impede on anyone’s taste of art or media. If that’s what they enjoy, good for them. We just so had different tastes.
These instances were in my third year, where I became more comfortable admitting that I kind of live under a rock. In my first and second, I had the app on my phone, partly because of my friends’ insistence and my curiosity regarding what the new memes are, so I could complete them for once. I left classmates hanging one too many times. Perhaps I should keep an open mind; There might be music and jokes I’ll end up liking.
Spoiler alert: I didn’t enjoy it. I found the speeding up, re-hashing and unoriginality insufferable. My ears hurt out of it, but for a time, I tried to force myself to be acquainted with it in order to keep up and ‘act my age, for a change.’.
After a while, I felt bored with any song lasting over 2 minutes. My attention span was comparable to a toddler’s. Movies that didn’t get to the point ASAP, where (Heavens forbid!) the audience must wait a bit before the explosive final showdown, seemed dreary. I was losing my ability to enjoy art, because I refused to give it a chance after the first look and wince. If speed culture didn’t dish it out for me, forget it. My repertoire of music, movies, literature, and art dwindled down at a worrying pace.
When I realized that, I didn’t enjoy it one bit. This wasn’t who I wanted to grow as, but the damage was done. I enjoyed attributes that helped me appreciate different art, like attention span, a desire to try out new things, critical thinking as to ‘why’… Now I was relegated to knowing a bit of popular media that I didn’t enjoy, only consumed to understand what my friends were raging on about.
Keep in mind that I have no wish to ridicule anyone who enjoys this trend. I don’t want to insult those who like TikTok music and 1 minute shorts. The reason I bring these up is as an example of a worrying phenomenon which has negatively affected art today.
Speed culture puts us in a state no different from that of an insatiable child, going through his treats and toys faster than you can keep up with, while demanding more. Quantity over quality is the main motto: A lot of these similarly sized media bites are pumped out with little regard to how they will stand the test of time or whether they resonate with their viewers. We are stuck in a vicious cycle where we shrug off uncommon pieces of art because we deem them too tiring to mentally digest. The public stick to these bites I mentioned, while wondering why nothing heartfelt or poignant comes out. We cry out for originality, yet through speed culture and a dwindling tolerance for going outside the trendy box, we do little to foster it. That is also why artists end up selling out, often against their will.
A Solution: Getting Uncomfortable
The remedy came to me while I was a volunteer viewer for a short film festival. One of our guidelines was to keep an open mind: “Give it a chance. You never know what will end up pleasing you.”.
One particular movie watching started off with annoyed sighs. Much of it featured natural shots, fixating on flowers, sidewalks and bushes. While I found the monologue interesting, I still thought the cinematography was boring and slow. Where was the director getting at? What was the point?
Then I remembered the guideline. Maybe I was judging it too harshly. I resolved to watch it again, this time without thinking of how bored I am. If I still didn’t like it, at least I gave it a chance.
It ended up becoming a favorite watch.
The director’s monologue was beautiful on its own, but the shots of nature took it to a whole other level: That focus on hydrangeas throughout their different states of life, flickering back and forth between apparent shadows on the wall or lack thereof… This aesthetic I used to dislike translated the director’s vision beyond words. His laments regarding ephemerality and the speed of change were all around us. They were illustrated in these ordinary, commonly seen shots, that we think nothing of in our own hurry. The mixture of soft music I didn’t notice the first time, visuals and words almost brought me to tears by the end of the second chance. I couldn’t believe that he conveyed my viewpoints in such a witty yet beautiful way.
Later on, it hit me: I connected with a piece of art.
Ever since, I prioritized looking for, engaging with what another friend of mine calls, ‘rejected art’. A valuable characteristic was length; After a long time of consuming content only appropriate for an attention span of its length, I sought out 2+ hour movies and albums. This extended time frame became sacred to me in the sense that it allowed me to forge a connection morphing and changing along with the direction the artist took. It was generally slow in building up, but lasting even beyond the viewing.
Eschewing today’s ‘trendy’ motifs and themes in media allowed me a great deal of freedom to find alternative viewpoints, aesthetics, and ideas presented in ways I didn’t think possible. It makes one wonder: How much more art, made with the very contents of a unique individual’s heart, remains unseen and unheard? How could our culture have progressed in ways different from today? Alas, it’s a sad truth that some art is just bound to flop, even more so with today’s hyper-fixated speed culture. However, I felt that if I could give as much attention as possible to the unseen, not only would I discover more about myself, but about sub-realms of expression I didn’t know existed. The realization itself is both strange and fun.
In the end, I believe minor discomfort, open ears and eyes can do wonders in kick-starting art’s evolution again. Experimentation and risk-taking do not feature as much today because of the harsh punishment against deviance seen today in pop culture. While the audience’s judgement is important, many creatives will agree with me that an open one is pure delight. Let us grow uncomfortable, bored, patient for a while; Let art shock us again into mirthful delight or scandalized outrage, if it so wishes.
