Stay quiet

Julia Strakovich is the author of the book “Digital. What happened to music in the 21st century ”, which has stated a chronicle of changes that have occurred over the past couple of decades with an industrial recording industry, the musician shop, a community of consumers of their product and journalists.

I stopped reading the news.

Threw it.

I no longer follow the endless stream of sanctions, counter -sanctions, counter -consances, statements, accusations, Orwell laws adopted so that no one can come to their senses in two days.

I do not look at the headlines in the colorful newspapers of neighbors in the subway.

I am not interested in regular updates of even the closest in spirit of resources.

When they send me a link to the next-sixth in a week-analytical and pan of the way where we roll, how it all ends and how soon, I just close it without delving.

At least I try.

I no longer want to plunge into the war day after day-not the one that somewhere, in the fields near Lugansk, nor the one that here, very close, goes in the head.

I know this is an unusual descent for a column about music and a digital revolution. However, it is unlikely that he will be very surprised by someone-at the present time, everyone considers his duty to speak about the war and the current agenda, even if he was a continuous sports commentator. But, oddly enough, I am now talking about music and the digital revolution - only what does they have to do with it, it will become clearly a little later.

In the meantime, about everything in order.

I stopped reading the news.

But for a long time before that, like everyone else, I caught every letter. The more threatening the situation became, the minor turn of the plot, any video test or the story of an eyewitness seemed more important. Each attempt to analyze was absorbed with greed in the hope of understanding what was happening. Each discussion lived the expectation of a dialogue, the vague feeling that something, at least in general moods, could still be influenced. The clouds, however, were thickening, the information was becoming more chaotic, comments became more exalted. The avalanches of truth and lies, whole threads of mutual hatred, apocalyptic forecasts - the flow of information was compacted until it merged into a continuous background of anxiety and helplessness. Helplessness first of all. Following what is happening and discussing it has become the only possible form of participation, which gives the illusion, if not control, then at least involvement. Nothing can be changed, but at least you can keep abreast, indignant or despair, sign something, break something, in extreme cases-try to convince someone. I follow the events, which means that I am still not on the sidelines, I am worried, I speak out, I am empathizing-and in the current situation this is the last remaining way to feel that you have done at least something ...

It seemed so. It was so.

And then there was summer, and I went to the forest for a month. Without access to information in general.

On the return, a lot of unexpected was opened. Firstly, I found that I was much more friendly to people. At first I did not really know why, but at the first turned on the Internet I realized - I just hadn’t read comments for too long. 15 minutes spent on their study - and I no longer want to go out. In every second, tantrums begin to appear, blinded by propaganda anger, which, to put it mildly, interferes with living.

Realizing this, I stopped opening comments. And the aggression in the world has become less - if only because it has become smaller in me.

Secondly, it turned out that no matter how rapidly developing the events may look with daily immersion, during my absence I did not miss anything. The characters are the same, the atmosphere is the same, there are no special ascels. Yes, several new details and facts appeared, but in order to make the most detailed performance about them, it turned out to be enough an hour. It seems that there is no difference between reading news once a month or three times a day.

Realizing this, I stopped following the events. I recalled the slogan of media -custody: significant news will find you themselves, and the insignificant are not worth attention. If something really significant happens, I still find out about it. Since then, nothing significant, however, has never happened. In addition to the fact that I have much more opportunities to do what is really important to me.

This, in fact, was third, the third discovery: although from the inside of the information massacre, participation in it (at least as a spectator) seems the only way to do something, moving to the distance, you clearly see-this is the most reliable way not to do anything at all. Regular monitoring of opinions does not bring closer to understanding - on the contrary, it is becoming increasingly difficult to assess what is happening. Emotional involvement does not lead to the help of anyone - it only divorces real people around. Wandering among the predictions of the disaster does not clarify the programs of actions to avoid it - but greatly moves away from itself. The difference between reading news once a month or three times a day is actually still, and it is precisely in this-the more time and mental strength is spent on maneuvering in the Internet, the less they remain to fully and meaningfully live their real life.

But it is all the matter. Not from the informational rumble of messages, discussions, expressed positions, the world consists of, but from private meanings, decisions, elections, from the sum that everyone individually manages to create on their own path.

Someone, of course, will notice: well, yes, here is the formula of escapism, internal emigration-conveniently, the head in the sand. In the information war, as in any other, refusal to participate is considered to be desertion. In the best case, they will regret and forgive - now, say, Artemy Troitsky in one of the recent speakers on Echo sympathetically declares that he is quite calm "to those friends who, in horror and confusion, simply hid from the whole situation." And even gives a characteristic example-"such is a brilliant musician and researcher Oleg Nesterov , who tightly barred from hostile vortices in the Soviet cinema of the 60s and his composer experiments."

This example is the most symptomatic. It is difficult to say how deeply Artemy Kivovich delved into the results of the “barricading”, which he writes about, but, apparently, not too much - usually accurate in his diagnoses, here he clearly misses the very essence. The power of the project “From the life of the planets” (and, of course, about it), not least, it consists in the fact that today it tells about the most urgent. The history of the sixties - generations, who inhaled the air of freedom, who believed that the country and society can be changed, that in his hands is to build a more humane, honest tomorrow, and then, on a grand scale of Prague tanks, twisted, stolen frost of stagnation, now, in the era of the worst Soviet scenarios and the loss of hope, it sounds sophisticatingly. relevant.

This is most visible in the performance of the performance of the same name, as its plot lines of the plot, telling about the unfulfilled, the cemetery of ready to be born, but never shot films, form in a kind of compass: 4 vectors during the heyday - and crash - intentions, 4 fate, 4 choices. Do not do and not to fight - like Vladimir Chinese, capable of becoming the main movie of the generation, but hanging on aspen after the first suspended picture. To fight, but not to do - like Andrei Smirnov, a firm, stubborn, not ready to give in neither the authorities, nor the newly thickened atmosphere in anything and as a result simply crossed out of the profession for decades. To do, but not to fight - like Gennady Shpalikov, who endlessly redrawing his work under new censorship requirements and still managed to leave the brightest mark before the final turn of time threw him to the sidelines, forcing him to step into the loop. Finally, to fight and do - like Vladimir Motyl, leading a methodical, exhausting battle with a party bureaucracy and ideologism, regularly played in it, sometimes almost going crazy, but after each forced retreat, he got up again and again ... All this is not just about Soviet cinema and not about the spirits of the past, inspired by Nesterov with his “megapolis” to musical initiations. With all its obviously, this is the story, including about here and now - and I do not know how Oleg himself feels, but judging by the reviews, reviews, reactions, his audience feels very sharply.

“From the life of planets” is not an attempt to hide from the situation, this is a special way to talk about it. Just in another language - the language of global meanings, human destinies, the connection of times. And it is on it that the answer to the question of what to do today, what to do in the era of "hostile vortices" to everyone personally, unexpectedly begins to sound much more convincing and clearer. It turns out that the “barricaded” Nesterov said no less about the current moment, but more than signing petitions and declaring positions. And something suggests: that is why he was able to do this that he was not plunged into the seething waters of relevant information and endless debate, but chose, as Troitsky formulates, the role of hermit cancer.

The law is the same as with the news: to press the pause more often and change the plate less often is a reliable way to hear more, and no less.

Because the information war, no matter how pathetic it sometimes seemed, emasculates, grinds words and thoughts. Only the matter here is, oddly enough, not at all in the war. It is in information - and our ways of interacting with it. Yes, in the current realities, everything acquired especially a bitter and crazy taste, but even years ago Nicholas Carr Sosema did not accidentally call his program book - an impressive set of facts about what is happening with a person in a modern media - the catchy “The S Hallows” , speaking of the frightening shallows of the world around. Carr writes about a lot, up to changes in neural connections, but his main message is clear today and without any scientific linings, he became actually a common place: the digital revolution gave rise to a radically new information landscape, in which a huge number of people continuously produces and consumes billions of messages, images, video clips, and short fragmentary texts. The rapid streams of small infustraints have become the usual habitat, where an intensive change of impressions turns into a drug that requires all the time to remain in touch, letting in more and more new information through itself. When at the stake especially sharp topics like the same war, the essence of the phenomenon does not change - this is info - only an emotional degree takes off higher. Everything would be nothing, the more tightly, the person “plants”, the more noticeably mutates himself: thinking is increasingly superficial, judgments - rash and fast. A pronounced deficit of attention is formed-the inability to concentrate on one thing for a long time, perceive long texts, delve into complex ideas and big stories. Ultimately, the informational noise clogs both life and consciousness, leaving no space for pauses and silence, the possibilities for building a connected picture of the world from the chaos of data, which could be placed in itself and find its place in it.

“There is no time for crystallization of meaning” - so it was in due time by Yuri Saprykin, talking, however, somewhat about another - about music and the current hearing. “Previously,” he argued, “regardless of what turned out to be on your cassette or disk, you could live with this for some time. Listen once, listening, twisting in your head, somehow develop and collect yourself again inside yourself. ” Now the average music music man, who downloads three new albums per day, has no need to do such things. In general, everything is simple here: the same thing happens with music today as with any information in general. Every day it becomes more and more, access to it is not limited by anything - the ocean of sounds recorded for almost one and a half centuries of the existence of audio recordings, the bottoms, and the water in it continues to quickly arrive. The listener falls into an acceleration trap: now he needs to have time to let so much pass through himself that he inevitably begins to swallow the playlist behind the playlist, without trying to linger on something, delve into, understand. If the track does not catch in the first seconds, it means that the time has come to press the “next”. If the artist did not hit with the very first quick test - he does not deserve the second chance. Too many other applicants for a person around. Competition for attention is too great.

I know a lot of those who will be indignant at this place-“not like that with us!”, But this does not change the general trend: the music is becoming disposable today-this, by the way, is one of the main reasons for the success of online fasting : is it more convenient, why keep something that you still are not going to return? The music becomes a background - a meeting with it as a separate pastime, not diluted by anything else, in the era of multitasking turns into exotic, almost an anachronism. Music is just a small fragment in a stream of impressions, something that rushes past, absorbing the silence, filling the void of all pauses.

The irony is that it is no longer capable of really filling in any way, to get deep into such conditions. It can only slide over the surface. In fact, no one but a bunch of enthusiasts (usually the Docifre School) now seriously believes that music is generally something significant, the key to at least some important internal experience. It turned into part of the information noise, and stories about its incredible strength, the ability to give answers, turn life and lead generations seem to be a mythical, tradition of a long time, albeit legendary, times.

Today, revelations are not expected from music: so strong not so long ago, hope for a breakthrough, the era of new geniuses, which will certainly begin, as soon as the technologies give the opportunity to create and spread their creations to everyone, melts in the face of endless terabytes, pouring from all sides, drowning in the gerry of information chaos. Chaos and information excess have generally excellently dealt with all the hopes of the ideologists of the network world - this turned out to be one of the most evil jokes of the digital era. Once, at her dawn, the freedom of dissemination of information was the promised medicine from all troubles, the main pillar of the digital symbol of faith. It was she who, among other things, had to take sole control from hierarchical power and return it to ordinary people, to create a transparent world in which the strong will no longer have a chance to make quiet arbitrariness: after all, he will not be able to conceal anything and deceive anyone. Auschwitz would not have been possible if thousands of witnesses showed undeniable facts in real time to the whole world - digital enthusiasts were repeated and sounded quite convincingly. That's just the deeper we are now immersed in the world promised, the more clearly it becomes: knowledge of the situation does not mean control over it, and its reliability is always doubtful. The truth is lost in the squall of evidence and opinions, and you can no longer figure out where it is and to whom to believe. Yes, and there is no time to understand: information flows are too fast, and the degree of speed, as you know, is directly proportional to the intensity of oblivion.

However, the music, of course, is not a place with Auschwitz in one row-to rush in chaos in it, to recognize and immediately forget in its own way even fun. It’s just strange - and in the middle of this fun the SOS signals are increasingly sounding. The confession of the musical (and indeed media) drug addict has long turned into a popular genre, telling about different voices about one thing: a continuous stream of impressions delays, but does not bring satisfaction, the list of the listened is worshiped, but does not leave a trace inside. It seems that from the orgy of the quick and meaningless consumption of everyone is already noticeably sick.

In any case, many have been looking for a way to stop her recently. Someone shares personal recipes of self-restraint, and someone is trying to reformat the media environment-like the 3Plet team, promoting the platform for creating musical albums-applications and openly stating that their main goal is to revive the album as a separate, exclude it from the general network flow and thereby extend the life of the music, creating an alternative instantly erasing from memory Polelists. In fact, there are a lot of potential ways to rehabilitate slow rhythms, a meaningful listening, and interest in them (hello to the very startup idea!) Will inevitably grow.

By the way, that is why “from the life of planets” is the main musical project of the year. It is surprisingly accurately caught not only by the spirit of the time, but also by the same ripened longing for depth, slowness, truly large and complex stories. He offers a complete immersion: a documentary story about the heroes against the background of the era smoothly flows into the fantastic world of their forgotten scenarios, the scripts enveloped in music, music gives rise to the picture and images in which unfulfilled once becomes almost real here and now. This experience is fascinating and gradually becomes part of life, forcing to think about itself for a long time, even when all the media channels are already turned off, and the music was silent. Это не быстрый путь — через месяц можно с легкостью обнаружить, что лишь подбираешься ко второму диску. Вот только упущенной возможности прослушать за это время десяток-другой новых релизов почему-то совсем не жаль. Закон, похоже, все тот же, что с новостями раз в месяц / три раза в день: нажимать на паузу чаще и менять пластинку реже — надежный способ услышать больше, а вовсе не меньше. А заодно — хорошая возможность понять, что настоящая жизнь, как и настоящая музыка, рождается как раз из пауз, воздуха и тишины. Той самой тишины, от которой сегодня все так упорно бегут в медиагомон.

«Тирания XXI века — это тирания шума», — писал в свое время Ли Сигел. И добавлял: «Способ устоять один — хранить молчание. Остаться тихим посреди какофонии цифрового шторма». На самом деле для этого даже не обязательно уезжать в лес. Цель вовсе не в отказе от технологий, не в выпадении из цивилизации и не в побеге от действительности, когда та становится слишком мрачной. Она — в способности останавливаться и честно отвечать себе на вопрос «зачем?». Зачем я пишу этот пост в Фейсбуке, зачем открываю очередную ветку комментариев, зачем мне знать, кто сегодня выступил с заявлением, а кто — выпустил новый клип?

Чего здесь меньше всего, так это эскапизма. Суть не в том, чтобы спрятаться от реальности, а напротив — в том, чтобы взглянуть ей в глаза. Ведь настоящая правда проста и безжалостна: все конечно. Время, внимание, силы, готовность слышать и чувствовать — исчерпаемы. Сама жизнь куда короче, чем кажется. И даже не осознавая этого, мы все равно каждый день выбираем, на что истратить себя: ловить сетевые отблески чужой войны или строить собственный мир; поглощать сонмы треков, фильмов, текстов или ограничиться несколькими, которые останутся в памяти навсегда. Впитывать информационный гул до полного зашумления души или, сохранив ясность внутри, попытаться остаться тихим…

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