12/16/06

Pettibon's language





Few visual artists, few people of any sort, period, use language as intriguingly as Raymond Pettibon. He made his name selling pamphlets of xeroxed drawings at Black Flag shows in the early 80's. His punk sensibility is infused with dead-on social insights and a deadpan poetry. It may be useful to isolate Pettibon's language. Consider these lines from a drawing:



MY UNDRESSING MY UNDOING--WHILE LOOK AT HER!

(WHOSE TEARS RAN LIMPID WITH A PINK NAIL POLISH).

NO PLACE FOR BARBIE (AND HER BLANDISHMENTS) IN THIS, KEN'S WORLD.

WHILE ALL ALONG, SKIPPER, TRAGICALLY, WAS SLOWLY DEVELOPING!

And these, from another drawing:

She takes a love drug so that she can stand him.

He takes a love drug so that he can perform adequately and satisfy her.

Without her clothes she is unattractive.

I see you.

It's not easy but I save the reds for last.

The MNM's melted in my mouth and (sigh) my pants. Would you believe I shoplifted them?

"It's not worth it to express in philosophy or art, the perfect ideas of MNM's when in practice they let you down."

His unshapely brow and distended jaw do not prevent him from having sex 7 times a day.

I would put this hateful nose to the grindstone, this nose that leads me through life. And that's no lie.

Her features please exotic creatures.

When you're in love... She can only become less striking, less irresistible, less exciting to me.

1 comment:

Jamba Dunn said...

Brilliant and hilarious. I especially love "It's not worth it to express in philosophy or art, the perfect ideas of MnM's when in practice they let you down."

I hadn't considered the incredible influence these images had over me. I grew up in the same town as Jack from Black Flag. I went to their shows, remember reading similar pamphlets, and, perhaps not too strangely, I now produce work in a very similar vein: http://blacklodgepress.blogspot.com/2006/09/fossil-23-by-jamba-dunn-coming-soon.html#links

The thing I'd like to see revived would be the Jesus pamphlets Christians would hand out at the shows. In the hopes of luring a hardened suburban punk to the Lord, they produced mini comic books featuring ol' J.C. rocking out on a Stratocaster (it didn't occur to them that the Strat phenomena was not, in any way, associated with the punk scene) rocking out on stage—harder than anyone in the whole rocking world—because he found The Way. They always ended with some cheesy line about how you, too, can rock it like The Lord. On the back would be a little map to the local church. Punks loved these almost as much as the made-for-punks artwork. In fact, we sometimes went out of our way to find other “scene specific” versions to poke fun at how off they would be from adequately addressing the scene they hoped to ensnare.

Thank you for bringing this all back.