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Het Rijngoud

THE DISMAL SCIENCE DEPT./
DUTCH STUDIES DIV./
OPERA BEAT

Das Rheingold gives the background to the events that drive the main dramas of the cycle. It recounts Alberich‘s theft of the Rhine gold after his renunciation of love; his fashioning of the all-powerful Ring from the gold; and his enslavement of the Nibelungs; Wotan’s seizure of the gold and the Ring, to pay his debt to the Giants who have built his fortress Valhalla; Alberich’s curse on the Ring and its possessors; and Erda‘s warning to Wotan to forsake the golden Ring. The early manifestation of the curse’s power comes after Wotan yields the Ring to the Giants. The Gods enter uneasily into their Valhalla, across the Rainbow Bridge, but under the shadow of their impending doom.”

Quoth Wikipedia, Das Rheingold

Isn’t it ‘Das Rheingold?‘ The business end of the Rhine is in Holland, aldus

How did the goud get in the Rijn?

In researching Utrecht’s civic history, I was excited to learn about archaeological discoveries on the now-silted-up-and-dammed Oud Rijn channel, that have uncovered the medieval emporium (or vicus) called Dorestad — fabled as “Vicus Magnus,” “Vicus Famosus,” etc. Learning about it provoked thought in the various View departments.

Digital re-creation of Dorestad, as it looked about c.e. 800. Note the fishbone layout of the town lots, each with its own wharf frontage; with warehouses and garden access at the back, possibly sub-let. (Compare with the fishbone layout of town lots in Edinburgh, 1124). Adjacency, closeness, IS the urban advantage; time is money. Somewhere in there is the Frankish Royal Mint. Frisian Dorestad was alternately controlled — and sacked — by Franks and Danes and Vikings. Whoever controlled Dorestad, controlled the mint, the worth of the coinage, and the trade and taxes of all around the North Sea. The Frankish assertion of control at Dorestad, was an assertion of Empire. The Vikings just wanted the cash.

Dorestad was a wijk, or wic, or wick, or wich, in the string of merchant trading posts Frisian-speakers set up all over North Europe in the 7th and 8th centuries. They were the first post-Roman, barbarian-owned-and-operated, inter-tribal European trade organization. They were a network of harbors and inlets along the North Sea coast, and the Channel coasts of Britain and France, and up into Scandinavia, with easy access to central Dorestad. Ipswich was Gip’s Wic; Greenwich was the Green Wich. York of course was Jor-vik, and for that matter New York is New Jor-vik. The site of an ideal Frisian wijk is a safe harbor at the mouth of an inlet wherever a lord can keep the pirates out; where merchant barges with inland produce could meet sea-faring vessels plying the coasts. Dorestad was the central hub of the Frisian system, and minted its gold and silver coin. It traded at a premium over lump gold and silver, for it was purity-guaranteed.

The forgotten wick was in plain sight, underneath the little Dutch town called Wijk-bij-Duursteede. In the illustration below the insignificant bowed ditch, top right, is the Oud Rijn, the fount of treasure sung of in Het Rijngoud. You can see how it wandered away from the harbor.

Dorestad “Ludovic” coins, louis, from Dorestad. Note that the Frankish King is portrayed like a Roman Emperor.

Dorestad was known to have existed long before it was excavated, indicated by those excellent silver and gold coins, which have been dredged up all over Europe. These were marked by the Frankish kings as minted at “Dorestatus.”

Dorestad was founded as the capital of the Frisians, the center of their wiki-net. The Frisians put a wic here, right on the Wall Street of Medieval Europe, literally at the wall of the old Roman Limes, to harness the wealth, and coin the gold, of the Frankish Empire, as that wealth and gold came down the Rijn. Rijngoud!

VISIONS OF FRISIANS

You do know the Frisians, and quite well, under other names. English and Scots both descend from Old Frisian, a branch of West Germanic closely related to Old Saxon. The nation of shopkeepers, it seems, were shopkeepers even before they became a nation.

“Thanks to the Frankish conquest of Dorestad, what was originally just a Frisian affair became Frankish-Friesian commerce. Revenues from customs tariffs flowed into the Merovingian and Carolingian treasuries. From the time of Pippin II, a customs regime supervised shipping traffic and imposed taxes. In addition, it was the most productive mint in the Frankish empire. The first Frankish coins had been struck there as early as c.e. 635; and around 650 the Merovingian mint-master, Madelinus, was resident in the city. To satisfy its own demand for gold coinage, Dorestad minted its own coin, the donrijp.”

— Dirk Meier, Seafarers, Merchants and Pirates in the Middle Ages, 2006
Pepin II, of Herstal

Frisian King Radbad was both rad and bad, but in 695 he finally submitted to Pepin II of the Franks and surrendered Dorestad to Frankish control. Radbad saved his people’s life, and the seignorage of the mint at Dorestad, by submitting to be merely a duke — a peer, but under the Prince, the overweening Frankish “emperor.”

Charles the Hammer

To secure a durable transition, Pepin played a bishop. He installed a mission in the ruined Roman fort at Trajectum just downriver from Dorestad, led by the Northumbrian (that is, Anglish) St. Willibrord. If a group of Anglo-Saxon monks could convert their kinsmen the Frisians and Old Saxons, to the Roman religion, they would thereby submit to the “Roman” emperor. But in 716, Radbad re-took his own. He re-conquered Frisia and Dorestad from the Franks, and sacked the Utrecht mission. Willibrord barely escaped, and many English monks were lost. Radbad’s glory lasted only three years. When the old Frisian king died in 719, there was a new Frankish king, too, Charles Martel. He quickly seized Frisia and put the Dorestad mint back in operation. Then he sent Willibrord back to Utrecht.

THE NEW ‘BORDERLANDS’ HISTORY

The Rhine was not only the flow of gold. It was the Limes Germanicus, the limit of Roman Empire that had been decreed by the Emperor Claudius. This gives a totally different face to the Frankish/Frisian rivalry/collusion. The rise of Dorestad matched the pattern of events on the border 300 years before, when the Romans were on the other side. Recently historians have discarded the old view of “barbarian invasions.” Instead, relying on archaeological evidence like that at Utrecht and Dorestad, they see that the Roman frontier, with its heavily-garrisoned walls and castella and trajectae, was a lure for the dealing and stealing that could be got there. Coins and armor and swords and wine, jobs in Caesar’s Praetorian Guard, trips in ships to Rome and Constantinople, distributions of silks and slaves, is what tempted the German tribes to jockey for position on the border in the first place. The Frisians were farthest of all border tribes from Rome, but in their tight little corner at the mouth of the Rijn, they found the cat-bird seat. And the river meant they could manage journeys to Rome faster than almost anybody else. At least for a while. That’s why the missionaries were excited to get the fort at Utrecht — it was an easy commute with frequent boats either way, to Rome or home to Northumbria.

“A key point about all this new wealth flowing into the German world, was that the profits were not evenly distributed in social terms: particular classes benefitted disproportionately. Nor were they equally distributed geographically. Most of the wealth-generating contacts distinctly favored groups settled in the immediate frontier zone. Transport logistics made it much easier for them to supply the Roman soldiers, the basic source of demand. High-value exchange networks, like those of slaves or amber, stretched far into the interior of Germania. Most of the wealth flows benefitted, solely or unequally, the frontier zone. And even longer-distance trade had to work its way through middle-men — kings taking tolls, if nothing else. [The Rijn, the Roman Limes] was the center of a zone of cultural and economic contact stretching out for some distance on either side, rather than a preclusive border.”

Peter Heather, Empires and Barbarians, 2009

The collapse of the Western Roman Empire in the fifth century caused a huge amount of disruption in established intra-regional trading structures in Northern Europe. By the seventh century, however, trade flows were strong enough again for kings to establish trading centers. The deal was straightforward. The king guaranteed protection for all mercantile activities taking place at the market he established, and in return charged the merchants a percentage in tolls and customs duties. From the age of the wood cut for its wharf pilings, Dorestad was in action by c.e. 650. Through the eighth century, other [wicks] opened up around the Baltic circle.

Peter Heather, Empires and Barbarians

Taking control of the coinage and the wicks, and the determined effort to convert the Frisians and continental Saxons to do so, was exactly the achievement we call the Carolingian Renaissance. This wealth, these sea lanes, were what lured yet another Northumbrian monk, Alcuin of York, to dazzle Charlemagne’s court at Aachen. Once Charlemagne’s family got hold of the Rhine Valley, it went to great lengths for several hundred years to keep it as a gerrymandered fiefdom at the very center of the Holy Roman Empire.

The Scandinavian Expansion came to Dorestad soon after 800. After Viking attacks in the 830s crippled Dorestad and Utrecht, the real trouble started in 841 when the Danes showed up to conquer Frisia back for the barbarians. Though sometimes called Vikings, Rorik, Hroerekr, and his brother Harald, Haraldr, were powerful Danish sea-lords. By 850 they had control of Dorestad, and the Franks….didn’t. The Franks had to cut a deal. The deal was Rorik would stop his cousins from burning the place down, in exchange for the seigneurage of the mint; but he had especially to keep the Vikings out, and to keep the coinage going for the crown. It was a tricky relationship.

Rorik of Dorestad’s the name –are you being SERVED!!??

“Hrørek the Norseman (Roric) held the vicus Dorestad as a benefice with his brother Haraldr in the time of the Emperor Louis the Pious. After the death of the emperor and his brother he was denounced as a traitor – falsely as it is said – to Lothair I, who had succeeded his father in the kingdom, and was captured and imprisoned. He escaped and became the faithful man of Louis the German. After he had stayed there for some years, living among the Saxons, who were neighbours of the Norsemen, he collected a not insubstantial force of Danes and began a career of piracy, devastating places near the northern coasts of Lothair’s kingdom. And he came through the mouth of the river Rhine to Dorestad, seized and held it. Because the emperor Lothar was unable to drive him out without danger to his own men, Hrørek was received back into fealty on the advice of his counsellors and through mediators on condition that he would faithfully handle the taxes and other matters pertaining to the royal fisc, and would resist the piratical attacks of the Danes.”

— Annales Fuldenses, for the year 850
Dorestad was sacked maybe a dozen times.

“Once you have paid him the Dane-geld
You never get rid of the Dane.”

— Rudyard Kipling.

Not until the Dane dies. Which Rorik did, about 870. Dorestad was an unprotected wijk and wide open to attack. Anyway, it was nearly silted up again.

GOING VIKING?

So how did Dorestad go under the silt? Oh, the Vikings. What does Viking even mean — oh, I get it. Going viking meant going to plunder the vikes. The wijks. To clip a wic. ‘Going out viking, honey, to bag a Sandwich, back after lunch.’

Summa pia gratia nostra conservando corpora et cutodita, de gente fera Normannica nos libera, quae nostra vastat, Deus, regna. “Our supreme and holy Grace, protecting us and ours, deliver us, God, from the savage race of Northmen which lays waste our realms” 

— Antiphon for St. Vaast, 8th century

“By about c.e. 700, ocean-going ships superseded in-shore war canoes. Clinker-built strakes combined with a one-piece central keel and elevated prow and stern to create a hull with sufficient freeboard, and which was both strong and flexible enough to plough through ocean waves without either foundering or being battered to pieces. Second, sail technology appeared in Scandinavia. This involved learning not just about the sails themselves, and how to make them and use them to tack against the wind, but also about how to fix masts to hulls. The whole Scandinavian diaspora would have been impossible without this revolution. Why should this technology have been imported into the Baltic only around the year 700? 

— Peter Heather, Empires and Barbarians

“It was precisely to serve the growing Western European demand in the markets; to grab a share of all the new wealth generated by [the wick-net] of markets, that Scandinavians developed ocean-going naval technology. The Norse raiders and traders not only took the trade into their own hands, but also redirected it to centers under their own control. Sacking the emporia was a game enjoyed by all self-respecting Vikings, and by the 10th century, the only ones in operation, which included Rouen, York and Dublin, were under Scandinavian control. The whole Viking diaspora of the ninth and tenth centuries must be seen as a consequence of the emporia system of the seventh and eighth.”

— Peter Heather, Empires and Barbarians

“And they came to the church of Lindisfarne, laid everything waste with grievous plundering, trampled the holy places with polluted feet, dug up the altars and seized all the treasures of the holy church. They killed some of the brothers; some they took away with them in fetters; many they drove out, naked and loaded with insults; and some they drowned in the sea.”

— Simeon of Durham, 793

“It is some 350 years that we and our forefathers have inhabited this lovely land, and never before in Britain has such a terror appeared as this we have now suffered at the hands of the heathen. Nor was it thought possible that such an inroad from the sea could be made. “Then the Lord said unto me, [Jeremiah 1:14] ‘Out of the North an evil shall break forth upon all the inhabitants of the land.’ “

— Alcuin of York, after hearing at Aachen about the Viking sack of Lindisfarne and Northumbria
The Fibula of Dorestad, about 800. The fine artistry of the Carolingian Renaissance was what Rijngoud commanded.

The cultural memory of Dorestad must be behind the legend of the Rheingold or Rijngoud. A Ring, the Precious, forged from stolen lump-gold, even though its magic was guarded in purity by three virgin nixies; for its golden power, the Dwarf forswore love, and the Heroes and Gods and Giants fought, and Siegfried slayed the dragon, and for which the Valkyre lost her chance to love like a human. And by which power, the Gods had the Giants build their dream house on high, but left the debt in arrears — so they were cast down again, and their mortgaged house went up in flames, then “underwater,” tumbling back down into the Rijn, at twilight… all this, the cultural remembrance of the shiny coins you could schlepp home from your risky Rijn Journey to trade with the giants at Dorestad.

EPILOGUE: HOW UTRECHT ROSE AS THE NEW DORESTAD

Dorestad’s ability to draw traders from all over Europe proved that the Rijn Delta was the “Money River” — Vonnegut’s phrase – in Europe. Traders were sold the privilege of a few yards of river-front, permission to lie down and lap at the Money River. When the Oud Rijn silted up once too often, and Dorestad was sacked once too often by its erstwhile Viking protectors, it took a few hundred years, under the new Counts of Holland, and the Prince-Bishops of Utrecht, to tame the business end of the Rijn.

Utrechters dammed and canalized the landschaap, and compacted the town layout behind walls, retaining for most burghers that important access to their strip of wharf. In 1142, the same year the damming commenced, the City of Utrecht was formally chartered as an urbis and officially given the seignorage of its mint. In essence, it was the New Dorestad. Like the old emporium, it faced constant armed threat from the grasping Counts of Holland and the half-barbarian Saxon Dukes of Guelders on the other. As at Dorestad, Utrechters bought and sold on credit, but reckoned, finally, in the gold and silver coins they minted for you. They gave the trader a premium, but the city took its cut. This was but replicating the central position of Dorestad as the source of het Rijngoud. Utrecht kept this spot until about 1630; when silt and currents, of the Rijn and of history, shifted the Rijngoud to the coast, leading to the rise of Amsterdam. As we shall View.

The Penny Finally Drops

During all the horrific events this year, the View has been frustrated that finding reliable, informed journalism is nearly impossible. You have to be steely-eyed in the hunt for it, hacking away all the garbage ads and pop-ups and fake news (sic). And all the click-bait you have to swat aside. And you have to know what to look for in the first place — because Woden knows, the ‘Net will only show you what it thinks you ought to want.

I finally found a fascinating and very moving report about Cup Foods, by Ayman Ismail on Slate, following up on “What Happened To The Counterfeit $20 Bill That George Floyd Got Killed For?” Recall, that this issue obsessed me. (As does, who set the fire at St. John’s Lafayette Square?) Much is made clearer; it’s worth reading…but still….

https://slate.com/human-interest/2020/10/cup-foods-george-floyd-store-911-history.html

The report only left me angrier and more frustrated, by confirming what we already knew. A convenience store in a tough Black neighborhood, owned by hard-working Palestinian immigrants. They seem to have a fine relationship with their customers. They left the shop that night to be run by some greenhorn 19-year-old underlings, but kept the cell phone handy in case trouble arose. The poor clerk who called the cops and didn’t know what he was doing, but felt he had to, and caused all this violence, is devastated by what he’s done. The family and community struggle to move on.

Why is a 19-year-old minimum-wage immigrant child-worker charged with investigating currency crimes? Where’s the FBI? Why did this schnook feel he HAD TO call local cops on a hot Covid-y Memorial Day night over an inky Andrew Jackson? Is there a dangerous counterfeiting ring running in southern Minnesota? Is all the money there worthless? Are customers usually liable for passing fake notes? Am I liable if I pass a fake note? How would I even know? If the cop they call at the laundromat is a homophobe, will I get a knee on my neck? Why is there no evidence of this crime?

So I went sleuthing again; finally I found the answer, the key detail that most reports have missed. It was filed on June 1, so maybe you missed it too:

https://www.sctimes.com/story/news/2020/06/03/what-we-know-fake-currency-and-george-floyds-death-minneapolis-counterfeit-police/5310999002/

“Cup Foods owner Mahmoud Abumayyaleh questioned whether Floyd even knew he used a counterfeit, in a statement posted on Facebook Sunday. He told TRT, a Turkish public broadcast service, that normally officers ask a few questions about counterfeits, “put it in a bag and take it.”

In the 911 transcript a Cup Foods clerk told the dispatcher: ‘Um, someone comes our store and give us fake bills and we realize it before he left the store, and we ran back outside, they was sitting on their car.’ A former employee and customer of the shop Angel Stately told the New York Times she saw the bill and the ink was running on it. Stately could not be reached for additional comment. 

‘As a check-cashing business, this is a routine practice for us: we report forged money, then the police come and ask patrons about the bill to trace its origin. Upon receiving a counterfeit bill from George Floyd, one of our employees called the police in accordance with this procedure,’ according to the statement on Facebook.” 

— Norah G. Hertel, USA TODAY, June 1 2020

A check-cashing business in a ghetto neighborhood is often the ONLY SOURCE of actual currency, into that neighborhood. This is probably the only place the unbanked can cash their paychecks. This Palestinian immigrant family is the neighborhood banker. God knows what cut they take, usually 20 percent. Now the tragedy makes sense; in a sense. Any currency that comes into their store that isn’t from them, is suspect anyway.

There were reports of a small-time counterfeiting ring in Southern Minnesota that spring. I’m sure the check-cashing places were told it was their job to report all questionable currency, as the local credit shop, where lots of currency can expect to pass, not just bubble-gum sales. This kid bit on a coin and found it wasn’t silver but lead. In his mind he’s a banker faced with a bank robber. All he knows is it was somehow his job to keep the coinage pure, and as a good guy, in this strange country, fearing that he would be found responsible otherwise, he called the civic guards to seize the real bad guy before he got away and it was too late. Then, he had to watch as the drunk guy he fingered was murdered before his eyes.

Is it cynical, or shocking, or reductionist, to hunt for the meaning of these events in suspect coinage and credit? Does it really all come down to a single ball-point-pen-smeared slip of promissory paper, that may not have existed? Actually, I believe it magnifies the significance of George Floyd’s murder considerably. All the actors in the tragedy that night were there for money — the Palestinian family, the eager-beaver young immigrant (West African, by the way), lured to come to America for the money they could make, the chorus of neighborhood customers who frequented Cup Foods because they could cash and spend at the same place, but who resented the take and the seedy atmosphere. Even the villainous cop Chauvin, who was working out his own crimped attitudes about just who deserves the free right to walk into a store and spend like he was somebody, was really just out working his night shift. Clocked in, killed the guy, clocked out. Even the in-his-cups victim, if he impossibly WAS a counterfeiter, which is the McGuffin of the whole tragedy everybody involved expects us to take seriously –– then he was literally there to “make” money, too, at the only place he could spend his craft into existence.

It’s scary because most of us are anywhere, most of the time, to slip or receive money. Less and less of it is cash for white people, but that only exacerbates the problem: it’s not intuitive what money is anymore, or why it’s digital and plastic for some, but grubby and inky for others, or why it’s all gotten so desperate and expensive if it’s so easy and digital and super-abundant, or how you get it anymore, or what the fuck we’re doing anymore in America at all.

Is slipshod, unregulated credit in night markets really getting people killed and inciting racial strife? Sure, when certain groups have so much money it’s not good for them; and other groups are allowed to PRETEND they have tons of money and put on airs, when they only really have tons of debt; and still other groups have so little money they are a priori accused of stealing it if they have it. Are we that different from barbarians fighting over shiny lumps of fool’s gold?

The next post Views the issue of debt money vs. the barbarian problem, more deeply — in fact, I’ll follow the dropping penny all the way to the bottom of the Rhine.



Dear Sir David, Teacher, Uncle, Friend, Baby, It’s Not About Money

THE DISMAL SCIENCE DEPT.

https://thehill.com/policy/energy-environment/518945-david-attenborough-calls-for-global-500-billion-a-year-investment

“And you know, Ma’am, anybody getting in on the ground floor of this thing could make a killing.”

The brilliant biologist and TV star is a direct inspiration to me. Saving the wild lands we have left is the only cause I have left, and that has taken a beating this year. But Sir David has been criticized before for failing to use his plummy pulpit to make a stand, or educate the public about the imminence and permanence of total ecological destruction, and our failures to stop it. He has recently responded, and to his credit has stirred himself admirably, issuing public warnings.

Consider then, how painful, but necessary, it is to criticize him again. This brilliant man deserves better than to end his career as a shill for disaster capitalism, a useful idiot, a coddled/addled TV star pitchman, or maybe hedge fund grifter — how about sincerely befuddled do-gooder, who has been trained to talk by the PBS (BBC) fundraisers.

The point is to resume our laypersons’ discussion of Hamiltonian finance (the American system) versus Modern Monetary Theory. Which you and I, Patient Reader, get to work out as much as anyone on Earth, so here goes the critique:

Only a fool would turn to Wall Street to save nature.

Whatever one’s individual understanding of money has been, from “why ain’t I got none?” to “a penny saved is a penny earned” to “time to make the donuts” to “my portfolio is perfectly balanced,” it’s important, as a citizen if not for yourself, to realize that it doesn’t work like that anymore. Everything any one of us has tried to believe about money and finances and taxes and work and success, is now garbage. The President of the United States, the famous billionaire who runs the show, has no money and doesn’t pay his taxes and has wrecked our economy in a way that more money can’t help. That isn’t stopping Trump from deluging the banks of the world with $Bucks$. The Trump-appointed chimp at the Federal Reserve, Mr. Powell, is printing money to speculate on Wall Street stocks, pumping it out by the hour to cover losses on the downside so it can keep inflating the upside. (The terrifying idea of inflation — to tame which Central Banks were formed — and which we have been trained all of our lives to see as Satan — is now finally revealed to be totally meaningless, a trick to gull the rubes, a bug-bear or hobgoblin left over from J.P. Morgan’s gold-hoarding view of the world. Also inflation’s deadly eternal “other shoe,” austerity, that lie that civic budgets must be pinch-penny managed and starved of funds, cutting even the few workers on public payrolls, to keep money “freed up” for “the economy” at a time of crisis. Both should have been chucked out with the gold standard.)

So, for money at all, all bets are off, and anyone including me who says he’s an expert is a liar, and next stop Cloudcuckooland. Still, Patient Reader, these imaginary digital trillions don’t just fly up into the ether and won’t be accounted away, not without Bernie Sanders. Phantom wealth must run to ground; it must yield returns downtown to be exchanged for hookers and blow in mid-town, and pay for the townhouse up-town. Thus there must be ever-soaring rents, more privatization of public services, more catastrophically rising health care costs, more militarized world police, ever-higher college tuition even though nobody is there, more barren acres of sprawl, and more carbon consumed, consumed, consumed. Why would Sir David want all that?

Fallacy of The Organic Theory of Money: Sir David, a naturalist, naturally believes there is a crisis, and with money always so terribly scarce, and now especially, he is calling out the people, through their parliaments assembled, to rummage in their cupboards for old silver clippings, and put up special taxes and levies throughout the lands, and dig out those shavings of precious coin. In other words voted over by their Parliaments, by putting it in as a line-item in their always-stressed budgets, thus guaranteeing, or “backing” the creation of that money. By each putting up just a few silver coins each, each year, only a widow’s mite to some but all for the cause, eh? it could be Invested, he says into a special fund, all handled by the flash boys on Wall Street, which means it will breed returns; and the Fund will be sold to the public to attract new funds; and maybe need to be balanced with hedged securities. But anyway a giant treasure chest, like a bank, where the money created will keep earning compound interest forever and be able to spin off new funds to be circulated into the economy in ways that…save wild lands, whatever those are.

The fallacy is, the power of that money will be multiplied for the Wall Street boys, many times over; 10 times, at least, if they’re not cheating. All the imminent and permanent destruction of the world is being caused by the floods of money misapplied by feckless corporations and authoritarian despots. Wall Street will take Sir David’s Fund and use it to finance oil wells and prison labor camps and skyscrapers in Dubai. Sir David’s tiny pittance of 500 billion florins per year, government backed and soundly invested, will let the goons call their buddies at the Fed for 5 trillion more free ducats to buy up land and water systems and raise everybody’s rent by tearing down downtown to build more empty condos.

Frankly, tragically, Sir David has no business lending his golden credit to a call for more phantom wealth to be created by central banks, backed by bank-captive governments. The debt money trap is what finances the killing the world. Sir David should be telling us, solemnly, to look at our individual lives, our daily conscious decisions, the importance of reconnecting on a personal level to wild places, by loving and caring about them. Just like he’s always done.

He’s old and establishment; maybe he does believe money can solve our problem. But surely it’s also an old belief — an old establishment belief — that you can’t serve God and Mammon?

Everything That’s Wrong With The World

LACMA is the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, a public institution since 1961, when the art collection was moved out of the stairwells of the Science Museum in Expo Park. Like the Science Museum, and like baseball and soccer fields, libraries, parks, nature paths, water fountains, public emergency rooms, safe beaches, and family-friendly picnic tables, the County’s mission for the art collection as it grew was to keep it available free or pull-ticket-cheap to anybody, any day of the week. My God does that sound bloody noble today.

Q: How do you turn a dusty public art collection into a prohibitively expensive elite commodity only the rich get to enjoy? A: Build an expensive new museum, and lock it up inside!

Atelier Peter Zumthor and Parter, architect

https://laist.com/2020/09/18/lacma_unveils_inside_look_at_its_new_750-million_expansion.php

The latest breathless projection into the Orwellian future of a plan that was already out of date and controversial before Coronavirus. The push to replace LACMA has had a bloated design process, going through many, many starchitects in the past few years, with costs getting ever more gigantic. Plus the HUGE carbon footprint attached. At least the design, at last, is pretty. But why build it at all?

LACMA has been under constant construction ever since I arrived in LA, and access to the collection has been woefully limited, mostly because “these old galleries are too small for the collection.” So they’d build a new building with much closure and re-opening fanfare. Each new pavilion or plaza, while individually okay, was seemingly selected to be totally at war with what came before it. Then two years later you’d start reading again about a major re-fit. Now, they aren’t even bothering to keep the art accessible at all, the collection has been crated up in storage for a few years now. It’s being held essentially for ransom; we’ll have to see that the new building gets its financing and permits, because they’ve already torn down the old ones. [Peremptory tear-downs being the old Trump Management trick, by the way.]

See, it sprawls across Wilshire Blvd., both sides of the street! What an important expensive building.

They released some new sketches to get us all excited. But after Coronavirus, this seems like a parody ad from the fifties of a gleaming future where art is important because it’s expensive, and it’s expensive because it’s important. It’s being built at tremendous cost even though right now, it’s unclear anybody may ever willingly visit a dead-air public space again. And even if there’s a vaccine, with the economic disaster, Americans, will find it tough for years to afford hundred-dollar admission prices. So it seems they’re building this sexy new building specifically to have a reason to justify luring tourists in numbers large enough to justify charging them a hundred bucks to visit this really sexy building. It might as well be the concourse of an airport, to process timed trips to Venus, to see the 2.4 trillion-dollar Van Gogh that’s already on your coffee mug.


The trend of huge echoey ware-house spaces for everything is not good for art. The idea being sold is, the curators will be constantly shifting art around the deliberately amorphous galleries, to make fabulous ever-changing moments in the fabulous ever-changing space they’re building. So who knows what we’ll get to see? The public — returning visitors — local citizens — us — have lost forever the chance to view, and get to know, our art collection, over long years, even generations, during many delightful visits. That is one of the best services any art museum can perform. Otherwise, the public is removed from feelings of connection and ownership. Individuals, particularly the poor, lose interest and inspiration. We lose the casual habit of art, of having day-to-day relationship with certain works, which is indispensable for civilization. We lose the tickle of coming back to get lost in a loved painting or artist, just because you had a free afternoon. Now the managing curatorial experts own the art, and will dangle bits of it temporarily before you, then snatch it away somewhere. If you assume your passive position in a long queue hours before the showtime, you’ll eventually get in and get a whole three-minute pass; if during that pass you are jostled from behind by a stroller, or don’t look up from your cell-phone, you’ll miss it forever, whatever it was. Next.

Hmmm…looks like the Getty…and everything else. Where’d they put all the art again?

The way to save the future of Nature and our connection to it, and art and our connection to it, is to NOT build museums as “tourist events” — de-natured, multi-purpose, ever-changing, where-has-that-painting-gone, but-look-there’s-a-yoghurt stand, white-Star-Wars-plastic, airport-anomic crowd-processors. Can’t you just hear the squeals of children racing around? The piercing squeak! of sneakers on marble floors, the coughs and sneezes, the grunts and protestations of a thousand cell-phone conversations twittering all around you in a Babel of languages? You will. Not a breath of fresh air that doesn’t come already stale from the ducts. Not a window that could ever be opened. In LA.

Paintings, recall, are best seen indoors, in controlled light, well spaced but in curatorial communication with each other, and kept shaded and at constant temperature, where silence or hush is preserved, so that an individual or a class of students can find their own (collective) privacy to contemplate individual art objects. Exactly like the 1960s ’70’s and ’80’s galleries they’ve torn down. Indeed, Zumthor’s big design concept is: We wanted glass windows facing south so the sun bakes the canyon-sized concourse, requiring constant air conditioning….so the art goes in the usual small, boring, dark galleries at the back. What a design innovation!

Injury: this isn’t being financed cost-free through the public bank. Nope, it’s Wall Street. Kids of kids yet unborn will be floating this debt, a large multiple of the $750 million. For a County art collection donated in 1910.

Insult to injury: In the article above, read how the spokesperson coyly admits when this fantasy crowd-processor is built, it will be mostly empty because its capacity dwarfs the current art collection. Chuckle, “I guess we’ll have to go on a big art-buying spree to fill the barn!”