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Jonathan Quinn

Jon was the first real artist i met after moving to nyc's east village in 1983. he was a graduate of sva and tight with some of the group material art crowd and the fleshtones music scene. (new fleshtones book just out!!!) he put me in my first nyc art show. a one nighter group show he was putting together at club 57. jon was a conceptual painter then. he used painted pictures of the sea/sky as a symbol of dialectics. he soon moved into photography and film. we just spoke over the phone after a long hiatus. hes currently working on a masters in film history (i think thats what he said). pls look through his current photographic artworks "water." they are a great continuation of his painted work from the 80's and his film writing is quite good too. i brought him up to date with some of our mutual friends he hasnt seen in a while. he says hi.


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free jazz ~ punk rock / lester bangs

I'll be the first to admit that I know next to nothing about music technically, but the way I always looked at it, it made perfect sense that you could take one guy playing two moronic chords over and over again, let one other guy whoop and swoop all around him in Ornettish free flight, and if the two players were blessed with that magic extra element of conviction and the kind of inspiration that produces immense energy if nothing else, then hell, they could only complement each other. Because, to get just a little cosmic about it (any free jazz critic has a right to at least once in each article), the two principles of metronomic or even stumblethud repetition and its ostensible converse of endless flight through measureless nebulae should by the very laws of nature meet right in the middle like yin-yang, etc.

All of this, of course, relates intimately to the search for new forms and absolutely open-ended freedom of expression that all the arts were undergoing in the dear, dead Sixties. I can recall my own shivers of delight when, in early 1965, I first heard the Yardbirds and the Who unleash their celebrated deluges of searing feedback. It struck me immediately that this was one element which perhaps more than any other gave the rock renaissance of the day a full-fledged shot at matching the experimental forays that jazz had been experiencing since the turn of the decade

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