Extreme hardcore: birth of the blast beat

There's debate around who pioneered the blast beat first. Many cite Napalm Death (UK), but they were heavily influenced by extreme hardcore bands such as Siege (Boston, USA), among others. It would be fair to say that Swedish band Asocial are among the first, with their 1982 EP, How Could Hardcore Be Any Worse?

Other extreme hardcore bands around 1982/83 who used blast beats include Youth Korps (USA):

and DRI (USA):

A little later (1984) Siege was putting extreme hardcore on the map:

Worthy of a mention is Deep Wound (USA) who were pretty fast for 1983 (and feature future Dinosaur Jr members):

Gang Green (USA) gets overlooked but they too were super fast on their first EP:

Total Chaoz (Pre-Larm) from Holland are also worthy of a mention:

I'm sure I've missed a heap of bands (especially Japanese HC and other European HC bands), as well as those outside of hardcore who were using blast beats in the 1960's (Jazz musicians, for example).

So I wrote a book...

In between babies, work and now study, I've been quietly trying to find out what happened to Joe Hill's ashes in New Zealand. It's been a form of escapism which has rewarded me with new skills and new knowledge—plus it's been fun trawling archives. Now that I've come to the close of my research, it's going to be coming out as a book. Here's the blurb for Remains to be Seen: Tracing Joe Hill's ashes in New Zealand:

"On the eve of his execution in 1915, Joe Hill — radical songwriter, union organiser and member of the Industrial Workers of the World (IWW) — penned one final telegram from his Utah prison cell: “Could you arrange to have my body hauled to the state line to be buried? I don’t want to be found dead in Utah.” His fellow ‘Wobblies’, remaining faithful to his Last Will, did one better. After two massive funerals, Hill’s body was cremated, his ashes placed into tiny packets and sent to IWW ‘Locals’, sympathetic organizations and individuals around the world. Among the nations said to receive Hill’s ashes, New Zealand is listed.

Yet nothing is known about what happened to the ashes of Joe Hill in New Zealand. If some kind of ceremony had taken place, there are no oral or written records that recall such an event. Were Hill’s ashes really sent to New Zealand? Or was New Zealand simply listed to give such a symbolic act more scope? If they did make it, what happened to them?

‘Remains to be Seen’ traces the ashes of Joe Hill, from their distribution in Chicago to wartime New Zealand. Evidence is provided to suggest Hill’s ashes were not scattered around the World on May Day 1916 as commonly believed, and draws on previously unseen archival material to examine the persecution of anarchists, socialists and Wobblies in New Zealand during the First World War. It also examines how intense censorship measures — put in place by the National Coalition Government of William Massey and zealously enforced by New Zealand’s Solicitor-General, Sir John Salmond — effectively silenced and suppressed the IWW in New Zealand."

Thanks to the peeps at Rebel Press, the thing is going to be published very soon. They've also been cool with me doing all the design myself, which is rad. Check back for more updates—hopefully there will be a bit of a book launch/tour (really an excuse to go to Wellington...), but in the meantime, here's a spread from the book.

Operation 8: the movie

nzherald.co.nz: If you're not paranoid, you haven't been paying attention. It's an old line, coined half in wry humour, half in deadly earnest, but it has a special pungency for Wellington filmmaker Errol Wright.

Wright and co-director Abi King-Jones have spent most of the last three years making Operation 8, a restrained, even sober survey of the October 2007 "anti-terror raids" and their aftermath, that patiently paints a disturbing picture of the use of state force to suppress political dissent.

Wright is aware that the undertaking will have attracted close official attention. He recalls driving along a remote road late one evening and noticing a car a couple of hundred metres behind.
"My cellphone rang," he says, "so I pulled over to answer it. And the other car pulled over 200m back. Then when I drove off, it continued to follow me."

The incident spurred Wright to write to the Security Intelligence Service asking what information it held about him. He shows me the short letter he received in response. Over the signature of director Warren Tucker, it declines to confirm or deny that the SIS holds anything. In doing so, the letter says, it relies on section 32 of the Privacy Act, which allows an agency to withhold information if its release could "prejudice the maintenance of the law".

"Which is a yes," chips in King-Jones.

"We have just taken the view that we expect there will be surveillance [of us] and we carry on. It's not a very nice feeling, but it brings you closer to the world of the people you are documenting."

The events of October 15, 2007 introduced the word "terrorist" into our domestic political discourse for the first time since 9/11 made it the century's most electrifying buzzword. More than 300 police raided 60 houses around the country, many in the Ruatoki valley in the heart of Tuhoe country.
The raids, which resulted in 18 arrests, followed more than a year of surveillance and related to an alleged paramilitary training camp deep in the forests of the Urewera ranges.

Within less than four weeks, the police case was in tatters: charges laid under the Terrorism Suppression Act 2002 were dropped after the Solicitor-General declined to prosecute them. He specifically defended the police action, but said there was insufficient evidence to sustain the charges, brought under legislation he called "complex and incoherent" and "almost impossible to apply to domestic circumstances".

The firearms charges that remain are scheduled to be heard - controversially before a judge alone, not a jury, for reasons that have themselves been suppressed - next month in Auckland.

Operation 8 - the film takes its title from the police codename for the 2007 raids - deliberately avoids using an instructive or tendentious voiceover. But it provides a pretty useful summary of a story which, its makers fear, has fallen off the public radar.

"I think a lot of people are saying 'whatever happened with that? Are they in prison?'," says King-Jones. "Other people think the whole issue was finished when the Solicitor-General made the decision. People want to know - and they need to know - what happened and why."

What's new about the film is that it gives a voice to those who have so far been voiceless. The opening shots, a helicopter-eye view of the forest, plays over the words of 12-year-old Patricia Lambert, caught in the raids on Tuhoe.

"I saw all these people in black," she says. "It was really scary."

Patricia ushers in the testimony of others in Tuhoe and elsewhere whose stories of police actions would be comical if they were not so chilling: unlocked doors kicked down; fences smashed a few metres from a wide-open gate; children and grannies in their nightwear, kneeling on wet concrete at gunpoint; officers yelling "you will be sent to Guantanamo!".

Meanwhile a gallery of talking heads including security analyst Paul Buchanan, law professor Jane Kelsey and lawyer Moana Jackson comment lucidly and disturbingly on the original actions and the conduct of the case since.

There is testimony from former cops too, including Ross Meurant, whose contribution lent the film its subtitle "Deep in the Forest", and a one-time undercover man who makes some troubling inferences from the size of a police application for a surveillance warrant.

Wright and King-Jones are aware of the charge that they sometimes appear almost to merge with their subjects. At one point, one of the more eloquent of those arrested, Valerie Morse, accosts Detective Sergeant Aaron Pascoe, the head of the operation, outside the Auckland District Court. "Do you really think I am a terrorist?", she asks.

The microphone she thrusts towards him is plugged into King's camera and I feel constrained to ask him whether he has crossed the invisible, but important, line between a documentarian and his subject.
"I think it's impossible to be totally neutral when you are making something. It's very difficult to understand what the environment is for being a political activist in NZ if you don't spend enough time finding out."

Adds King-Jones: "When you collect all this observational material, you get to know these people. It's an important part of the process because these people are in a way quite isolated because of what they have been through. You have to get over their very understandable suspicion. They are wondering 'Are you someone that can be trusted?' or 'What's your angle?', that sort of thing. You can't really separate yourself from your environment."

No one disputes that most, if not all, of the 18 have a history of activism. But the film raises concerns about the role police anti-terrorism measures can play in stifling the legitimate dissent that is the lifeblood of democracy.

Wright and King-Jones point out that what might be dubbed the "protest movement" has been sidelined since the 1970s when political dissent was commonplace.

"It's been really crushed in the last 10 or 20 years," says Wright, "and this was a further crunch."
In any case they are impatient with the notion of objectivity, a term commonly used by people who wish something had been slanted their way.

"[In the raid], 18 people were arrested, 60 houses smashed into, stuff turned totally upside down," says Wright. "The police got to present their point of view through the media and they called press conferences all the time. They have a whole full-time PR team at Police National HQ. They are very well-resourced to look after their own interests. And at the same time, you have these people who really have no voice."

So is their film a dispassionate or activist one?

"Both, really," says King-Jones. "It's about allowing the audience to hear and see something and take away from it what they want. They don't want to be banged over the head with anything. But you want to be able to take them by the hand and lead them somewhere and say: 'What do you think of that?'."
Unsurprisingly the pair are hoping for a good turnout at the screenings - and even a bit of noise. "It's an opportunity for people to take stock of where this country is going," says Wright, "and ask themselves whether we want this kind of country. Because if we don't rein it in soon we are going to be in too deep."

King-Jones: "I just hope that audiences will get a first-hand experience of the people who were targeted. If you are able to get a broader picture of where this has all come from, maybe you will go away from it being more aware of what's going on."

Operation 8: Deep In The Forest screens at the Paramount in Wellington tomorrow at 2.45pm and at Skycity Theatre in Auckland on Monday at 3pm and 8.15pm as part of the World Cinema Showcase.

New Archives video

New video from Archives New Zealand, describing a little bit of what they do, and why. Quite good really.

From Christchurch to Chiapas: Red Fed poster in Mexico

Over at Justseeds.org the team have just posted a few pics of some Celebrate People's History posters subverting the Mexican scenery — including my poster on the New Zealand 'Red' Federation of Labor (far right). Next time I'll have do do a version in Spanish!

Absence, Archives, and Assignments...

I haven't posted here in a while — the Christchurch earthquake, an obsession with my research on Joe Hill, and becoming a student has meant this wee blog has been neglected. Sorry blog.

I'm going to be posting up essays and things from my Postgrad Certificate (eventually Masters) in Information Studies. I'm not sure if anyone will find them interesting, but hey, it's better than them sitting on my desktop.

Here's assignment number one: to critically review two online Archive exhibitions at Archives NZ.


Exhibition Review
With the growth of archive advocacy, archives across the globe are employing the use of online exhibitions. Like the museum sector before them, the power of the object (the record) and the access to our collective heritage is being promoted in the virtual realm. Unlike the museum sector however, archival exhibitions come with a number of concerns unique to its field. These include principles of original order, the loss of archival bonds, the importance of the record’s context (provenance, integrity, authenticity), and the level of interpretation provided.

This essay aims to highlight the formalist and analyst approach to interpretation as identified by Peter Lester (Lester, 2001), through the examination of two online Archives New Zealand exhibitions. Both ‘Passchendale Casualty Forms’ and ‘An Impressive Silence’ deal with New Zealand’s involvement in the First World War, but in very different ways and with very different results.

Passchendaele Casualty Forms

In 2005 the personnel files of those who served in the New Zealand Defence Services, namely in the South African War and the First World War, were transferred to Archives New Zealand (Lafferty-Hancock, 2006). As well as general records pertaining to each soldier, casualty forms are also included. ‘Passchendaele Casualty Forms’ makes a selection of these records available as an easy to use online exhibition.

Upon ‘entering’ the exhibition, the viewer is greeted with a brief explanation on the series’ original source and the selected files on show. The records are accessed through an alphabetically organised list of soldiers (of which there are close to 700). These are then displayed to the left of a generic description on how to use Archway (Archives New Zealand’s finding aid) in order find out more on that particular soldier. In Flanders Fields, a poem by John McCrae, serves as the solitary contextual information alongside the records.

The usability of the exhibition is excellent. A clean and concise layout, coupled with a linear process, enables the user to easily find the records on show. However this comes at the expense of a choice-led experience through the exhibition, and the possibility of user interaction. There are no hyper links to outside contextual information, and the user is confined to exploring the records as determined by the structure of the exhibition; that is, alphabetically. There is no space for comments or other participatory functions (commonly described as Web 2.0).

The lack of contextual information and the relatively linear format would suggest that ‘Passchendale Casualty Forms’ is an object-focused exhibition, employing a ‘formalist’ methodology (Lester, 2001, p.93). The records are essentially left to ‘speak for themselves.’ This may be appropriate given the kind of emotional response viewers could have to such records (especially family members) and the sheer amount of records on display. But as a result, the exhibition fails to locate the subject at hand within a broader historical framework, concentrating solely on the records themselves.

This object-focus is made clear in the title of the exhibition and reinforced throughout its opening description. The viewer is given some background information about how the records relate to the Ypres-Passchendale sector of Belgium during 1917-1918, and that many of the casualties on show are buried at Tyne Cot Military Cemetery. We are also told what the records contain, such as name, date of birth, rank, and the movements of the individual during their service.

What we are not given is any information about the Battle of Passchendaele, or how events at Passchendaele sit in wider relation to the First World War. In fact, the First World War is not mentioned at all. Nor is the reason for New Zealand’s involvement in the First World War, including who and what caused so many casualties amongst the New Zealand forces.

This lack of wider context assumes the viewer has prior knowledge of the Battle of Passchendaele and indicates the exhibition’s target audience: genealogists, researchers, and war historians. Yet some basic background information on why these young men were in Belgium, and what they perceived themselves to be fighting (and dying) for, could have personalised the records and placed them into a wider framework of understanding. It would also have made the exhibition (and the records) more available to a larger audience.

Because of the lack of contextual information, the exhibition offers limited interpretation of the records or how they contribute to the larger topic of the First World War. But if one takes a moment to examine the records and use the Archways finding aid provided, the viewer can gain access to a wealth of contextual information not explicitly described. It is the records, the facilitation of self-driven research and the use of Archives New Zealand via Archway that is the exhibition’s strength.

The records consist of two personnel forms: Form B.103 and Form NZR.2, which are described in Archway’s Series Description. The series from which the 700 records come from is hyper linked in the initial text of the exhibition. It is here the viewer is given a history of the records: who created them, how they are arranged, and how they came to Archives New Zealand. The integrity of the files is also described — we are told that sometime before transferral the records were integrated from two sequences into one.

The records themselves are reproduced relatively well and are filled with a variety of information (which makes up for the lack of contextual information). The enlargement of records, however, is limited to one zoom. Nonetheless, the viewer can still get a sense of the individual’s life during their service, such as where they served, if they were promoted, and how they were killed. Evident is the fact that many of these soldiers were wounded more than once. For example, Mathias Becks of the Wellington Infantry, was wounded on 24 June 1917, and then killed in action on 4 October 1917.

How the records are displayed raises a number of questions about the archival principle of original order. For example, the records are displayed and arranged by page, yet the pages are not displayed in any particular order — both the records of an individual and across the collection. The front and back of Matthias Becks’ B.103 Form are not displayed together; instead, the first page of his NZR.2 Form divides it. In some cases the front page of a form is displayed at the bottom of the page, rather than at the top. Likewise, the records of some individuals start with the blue B.103 Form while others start with the white NZR.2 Form. This randomness of display is to either preserve the original order of the physical records, or the result of haphazard uploading on the part of the exhibitors. The lack of contextual information means we do not know the reason for such arrangement.

The information provided does not explain the reason why the casualty forms of the Ypres-Passchendaele sector were selected for display, or how the 700 records from that sector were chosen for digital reproduction. The viewer is not told how many more records from the Ypres-Passchendaele sector are available, or whether records from other sectors are as available as the records on display.

This formalist method of interpreting the records suggests the premise of the exhibition and its intended audience: the highlighting of Archives New Zealand’s acquisition of personnel files and their availability to genealogists, researchers and war historians through Archways. In this sense, the exhibition is rather successful in meeting its intended thesis.

Research into how genealogists search for information revealed that “genealogists… wanted lists of names, or names indexes, or search engines that retrieved by name to facilitate their research” (Duff & Johnson, 2003, p.85). The alphabetical structure of the records and the encouraged use of names in Archway ensure these needs are met. Instead of being given the reference number to each file, the viewer is prompted to enter the individual’s name into Archway in order to find out more. This prompt appears to the right of every record on display. In the case of Matthias Becks, entering his name in Archway furnished an additional digital file not on display in the exhibition.

What this highlights is that Archives New Zealand has more records to access, that they are easy to access, and most importantly, that the user can do it themselves. It promotes the use of archival material and archives, Archway as a functional finding aid, and fulfils the mandate of Archives New Zealand to show “public archives are accessible and used” (http://.archives.govt.nz/about).

That genealogists can easily access these records online or through Archway is the standout feature of the exhibition. While the documents themselves do not evoke reservoirs of resonance, ‘Passchendaele Casualty Forms’ is an excellent online resource for family wanting to learn more about their loved ones, and succinctly promotes the value of the archival record and archives in general.

An Impressive Silence

In contrast to the formalist method taken in ‘Passchedaele Casualty Forms’, ‘An Impressive Silence: Public Memory and Personal Experience of the Great War’ employs a range of interactive tools to mark the 90th Anniversary of the end of the First World War. It offers a wealth of contextual information, analysis, and interpretation. Originally a physical exhibition, the online version uses a vast array of records to cover a number of perspectives, while the exhibition itself is organised in a way to promote both a user-led experience and the aesthetic strengths of the records. However, like ‘Passchendaele Casualty Forms’, the exhibition is not without its faults.

The opening description of ‘An Impressive Silence’ presents a number of questions and perspectives, acknowledging the “differing attitudes visible during and after the war” (http://exhibitions.archives.govt.nz/animpressivesilence). The interpretation provided by the exhibition goes some way in highlighting these attitudes, challenging normative views on the Great War and providing a balanced analysis. The first section, ‘Off to War’, includes traditional information around New Zealand’s entry into the Great War, but also includes overlooked anti-war perspectives of anti-militarists and conscientious objectors. Records are provided to further illustrate their oppositional viewpoint.

In doing so, the exhibition is both evocative and didactic, contributing to a more in-depth understanding of the First World War and those returning from it. Covering the challenges and concerns of those coming home from the war is the exhibition’s intended thesis, and while more information on the records would have helped enrich its analysis, ‘An Impressive Silence’ meets its mandate in an open, entertaining and engaging manner.

‘An Impressive Silence’ takes “the ‘analyst’ approach, in which meaning and ideas become the focus of the exhibition” (Lester, 2001, p.93). The context, and in turn, the records, are used to illustrate its central theme. There are five sections of focus ordered chronologically, each with its own theme, home page, contextual information, sub-menu, records, and related links. In turn, each sub-menu has its own records and information, ranging from recruitment and propaganda to the physical and mental costs of the war.

The user can navigate through these menus in any order they please, visit the many hyper links to outside information within the text, and use interactive media such as audio and video. An interactive timeline at the bottom of each page, a gallery section that alphabetically databases the records, and an excellent search function, adds to the user-led experience.

The pitfalls of too much choice or too much content can often accompany such an approach. Studies around online museum exhibitions have shown that when users are faced with too many options, they can be overwhelmed, “skim[ing] the available choices, and select what appears to them to be the first most plausible choice. Even if a more likely choice appears later on in the list of possible choices, few users will have the patience required to find it” (Marty & Twidale, 2004). ‘An Impressive Silence’ seems get the balance of choice and content just right. That the exhibition can be read in a number of ways rather than in one linear process avoids the issue of skipping a crucial part of the narrative. In other words, the exhibition doesn’t have to be viewed from start to finish in order to gain something from it.

Unfortunately, the user’s gain in personalised navigation and in-depth information is the record’s loss. The records are visually exciting, engaging, evocative, and begging for their own descriptions, yet they are completely devoid of contextual information. Apart from a title (often cut short due to graphic design constraints) and an archive reference number, the user is not told who created the record, where it came from, and what else is the series. Records are pulled from their archival bonds and displayed to represent the text, and not the other way round. As a result and in contrast to ‘Passchendaele Casualty Forms’, the records become “mere props to the story”, easily replaceable by “an illustrated publication or leaflet” (Lester, 2001, p. 93).

For example, there is a number of visually striking recruitment posters throughout the exhibition. But in order to find out anything about the creator, the viewer has to squint at the fine print on the poster itself. For viewers of an artistic bent, information around the size of the poster, its print medium and whether there are more posters by the same artist would go a long way. For users of archives, knowing what other posters are contained in the series or where one can find similar posters in the vaults is also important.

Having the option of viewing each record’s context, in a pop up box or in the gallery section, would have produced an even more rewarding online experience. While the records do generally fit with the theme of each page and the narrative provided, a degree of meaning is lost when the object is not put into its own context. Doing so may have swamped the viewer with too much information, but if structured well, it could have also created even more interactive learning opportunities — meeting the needs of specific audiences in an original and intellectually rich manner.

Conclusion

The Archives New Zealand exhibitions reviewed above illustrate two different approaches to interpreting archival records online. The ‘formalist’ approach in ‘Passchendaele Casualty Forms’ places emphasis on the object, making the archival record readily available but at the expense of analysis and interpretation. ‘An Impressive Silence’ employs an ‘analyst’ methodology, providing a wealth of challenging and informative context that engages the viewer, but neglects the record. Both have their strengths and weaknesses, and both are appropriate for their intended audiences.

Lester argues that “the best approach is to take a middle line between these two methods”, so that the viewer can derive their own meaning and engage with the “social, cultural and economic factors surrounding the record’s context and use” (Letser, 2001, p.93). In the two exhibitions above, the middle ground, unfortunately, remained untouched.


References

• Archives New Zealand: About Us (2000). Retrieved March 19, 2011, from http://archives.govt.nz/about

• An Impressive Silence: Public Memory and Personal Experience of the Great War (2008). Retrieved March 18, 2011, from http://exhibitions.archives.govt.nz/animpressivesilence/

• Duff, W. M. & Johnson, C. A. (2003). Where is the list with all the names? Information seeking behavior of genealogists. American Archivist, 66 (Spring/Summer), 79-95.

• Lafferty-Hancock, F. (2007). Public Records and Archives New Zealand. In A. Fields & R. Young (Eds.) Informing New Zealand: Libraries, Archives and Records (5th ed., pp.187-201). Lower Hutt, New Zealand: The Open Polytechnic of New Zealand.

• Lester, P. (2006). Is the virtual exhibition the natural successor to the physical? Journal of the Society of Archivists, 27 (1), 85-101.

• Marty, P. & Twidale, M. (2004, September 6). Lost in gallery space: A conceptual framework for analyzing the usability flaws of museum Web sites. First Monday, 9 (9). Retrieved from http://firstmonday.org/htbin/cgiwrap/bin/ojs/index.php/fm/rt/printerFriendly/1171/1091

• Passchendaele Casualty Forms (2011). Retrieved March 17, 2011, from http://www.archives.govt.nz/exhibitions/passchendaele/main

Bibliography

• In Flanders Fields (2011, March 18). In Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia. Retrieved 23:06, March 21, 2011, from http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=In_Flanders_Fields&oldid=419523735

• School of Information Management. (2011). Module 3: Public Programming and Archival Exhibitions. Retrieved from http://blackboard.vuw.ac.nz/

'Red Ruffians': online archive of Aotearoa's anarchist and syndicalist past

‘Red Ruffians’ is an online archive of writings, pictures and other goodies on Aotearoa’s anarchist and syndicalist past. Such a tradition did (and does) exist, but records of it are fragmented across different websites, books or archives — making them hard to find and accessible to only those in the know. The role of this site is to compile these fragments into one easily accessible location.

Why anarchism and syndicalism? And why care about the past?
Firstly, history is not static — the lessons from the past inform and influence both the present and future struggle:

“This type of historical awareness is a key reminder that we still live in a society deeply divided by class. The actions of the past stand as inspiring, yet unfinished movements to continue to build upon and to adapt to present conditions.” (Nicholas Lampert, Realising the Impossible).

Secondly, such narratives are important because those in power would have us believe that revolutionary currents in Aotearoa were either misdirected, without influence, or simply didn’t exist. The examples here go some way in debunking such notions.

Finally, it is important to acknowledge those who have held firm in their beliefs and struggled for a more humane and just society, “those spectral, semi-mythical figures whose humor, iconoclasm, commitment to working-class culture and dedication to democratic principles can still provide inspiration for actions in the present and hopes for the future” (Mark Derby, A Country Considered to be Free). Not just those mentioned in writing, but the nameless yet equally important women and men whose actions deserve to be remembered.

“Traditionally, labour history has tended to deal almost exclusively with the development of trade unions, implying that the workers had no history but that of the unions.” (Jeremy Brecher, Strike!). By focussing on anarchism and syndicalism, this site aims to highlight historical narratives that have gone beyond such a narrow scope.

It is important to remember that while Aotearoa is the focus, the ideas of anarchism and syndicalism and those who adhered to them were internationalist in scope — often transient by nature and committed to solidarity that transcended nation states. The site is here to link Aotearoa to that wider, transnational movement, rather than promote Aotearoa in a nationalist sense.

If you would like to contribute an article or know of something that should be on here, please contact garage.collective [at] gmail [dot] com. Content is always being uploaded, so be sure to bookmark the site.

Red Ruffians: http://redruffians.tumblr.com/

Gerd Arntz book out now

Have a peek here: http://issuu.com/ontwerpwerk/docs/gerdarntz_preview

As a politically engaged graphic artist and designer Gerd Arntz (1900-1988) portrayed the world in wood and linoleum cuts. During the 1920s, he conveyed his vision on social wrongs and the rise of Nazism in Germany in his prints. He did this in such a simple, direct style that anyone - regardless of their education and nationality - was able to understand his images. This prompted the Viennese social scientist Otto Neurath (1882-1945) to ask him to design the symbols for the ’International system Of Typographic Picture Education’ (ISOTYPE). During his long career, Arntz made more than 4000 coherent, powerful and legible symbols and figures. We still see their traces around us on a daily basis: in pictograms featured on objects ranging from traffic signs to gameboys, and in information graphics.

This book displays many Isotypes and explains the system and its context. This overview of Gerd Arntz’s life and work includes a selection of his political prints and other rare visual material that was never published previously. With contributions from Flip Bool, Gert Dumbar, Mieke Gerritzen, Nigel Holmes, Max Kisman, Paul Mijksenaar and Erik Spiekermann.

Previous blog posts on Arntz here:
— Art as a Weapon
— The Radical Design of Gerd Arntz
—

'A little packet containing the ashes of Joe Hill...'

Over the last year or two I've been researching what happened to the ashes of Joe Hill — IWW organiser, poet and songwriter — in New Zealand. According to most sources:

“Joe Hill’s ashes were placed in many small envelopes. These were sent to IWW members and sympathizers in all forty-eight states of the United States except one, the State of Utah… and to every country in South America, to Europe, to Asia, to Australia, to New Zealand and to South Africa. With fitting ceremonies and the singing on his songs, on May 1st, 1916, the ashes of Joe Hill were scattered over the earth in these many countries.”

Yet nothing is known about what happened to the ashes of Joe Hill in New Zealand. Were Hill’s ashes really sent here? Or was New Zealand simply listed to give such a symbolic act more scope? If they did make it, what happened to them? I've been pondering this question for a while now, and it's satisfying to feel my research has gone some way in answering this. It also questions the May Day 1916 date accepted for so long as the date his ashes were released. But you'll have to wait for my finished essay to find out more! It's in draft format and undergoing peer review as we speak... so hopefully soon.

In the meantime, here's images of the actual packet that contained the ashes of Joe Hill and the letter that went with it, courtesy of the Labadie Collection. Julie Herrada at Labadie has been a fantastic help, scanning the images, trawling newspapers, and fielding a number of my requests. The collection is fascinating in itself, recognised as one of the world's most complete collections of materials documenting anarchism in both the USA and around the world.

Poster: General Strike in Greece

"They hold the scissors, we hold the rock", poster from the recent General Strike in Greece.

CELEBRATE PEOPLE'S HISTORY: The Poster Book of Resistance and Revolution

From Josh at Justseeds: "The culmination of 12 years of work, this is a massive collection of all of the Celebrate People's History posters, the 65 that have been printed, and another 45 brand new designs that have yet to be printed yet except for in this book! I've also written a history of the project, and there is a great introduction by Rebecca Solnit."

This book is simply amazing. The visuals alone are worth the look, yet each poster contains a part of our past not often celebrated. Anyone who has seen a CPH poster or one of their shows will definitely like this book.

I was lucky enough to have my poster on the New Zealand Federation of Labor (the 'Red Feds') featured in the book, which makes it even more special (to me at least).

You can order it online at www.justseeds.org

time for change: help build a collective action network in Christchurch

We live in troubled times

We are overworked and under-payed — we have the second highest rate of average hours worked in the developed world, while two-thirds of kiwis earn less than two-thirds of the average wage. Work dominates our lives and clouds our free time. Many of us, both in and out of work, are isolated and without support. Our isolation makes it easy for the boss, the landlord or the red tape of institutions (such as WINZ) to push us around, short change us and offer nothing more than the bottom line.

Unemployment is on the rise while our benefits are slashed, our working conditions are under attack, our neighborhoods knocked down and replaced in the name of ‘development’.

Yet it doesn’t have to be like this

Together we have the power to make change, to support each other, and to wind back the ongoing attacks we face. To do this we need to stand shoulder to shoulder whenever and wherever someone is in need. Through the power of numbers, collective action and solidarity, we can start to enjoy what is rightfully ours and fight for a better world.

A network of people that supports each other, a network where help is just a text or email away, a network that gets things done — at work or in our wider communities — is the kind of network we’d like to see in Christchurch.

This network could span across different communities and different workplaces (regardless of whether we are in unions or not). Such a network could support each other to fight for better wages and working conditions, to win workplace struggles by generating community, solidarity and publicity, and support those of us out who are out of work and in the firing line.

Likewise, when our neighborhoods are scarred by greedy developers, our rents raised and living conditions worsened, we will have the means to fight back together rather than on our own.

Such a network makes it harder for us to be attacked, to be walked over, to be treated like nothing but numbers.

A day-long get together is taking place on September 25th to form a network in Christchurch, and we invite you to take part.

WHERE: WEA (Workers Educational Association). 59 Gloucester St, Christchurch
WHEN: September 25th, 9.30AM — 4.30PM
WHAT: Discussions // workshops // video // lunch

A draft agenda will be announced soon. This event is child friendly and lunch will be provided. If you have any questions at all, please contact: otautahianarchists (at) gmail.com.

Your input is most welcome, and we hope to see you there for what should be an inspiring and important day.

Protest this Sunday! Stop the Ant-worker Laws!

A protest against National's Anti-Worker Laws will be taking place this Sunday 8th August at 12 noon, on the corner of Colombo St and Hereford St.

Home to fast food outlets, retail stores and hotels (industries which house staff that are most at risk from the proposed legislation) we plan to bring a lot of noise and enthusiasm to the event, with stories from the workers themselves and reactions from various officials and commentators.

Bring a friend, a banner and some noise!

There will also be a Public Meeting on Thursday 12th August at the WEA (7PM). There are four speakers who will be sharing knowledge about the law changes, how they've already effected workers (22% percent of all workers fired since it was introduced were fired in the first 90 days), and possible ways to resist them. Jointly organised by the Workers Party and Beyond Resistance: it should be quite good.

WHAT ARE THE CHANGES? Info about the law changes are here.

xmas woodcut

My first two-colour woodcut attempt. Need to suss a few things still, and the type is pretty boring, but it was fun.

Beyond Representation: tactics for building a culture of resistance in Aotearoa

“Power keeps hacking away at the weeds, but it can’t pull out the roots without threatening itself.”
— Eduardo Galeano

We live in troubled times. The National Government has set in motion a number of attacks on the working class: prisons open while schools close, there’s been cuts to education and ACC support for victims of sexual abuse, a draconian search and surveillance bill proposed, plans to mine conservation land, GST hikes, and changes to the benefit that would extend the patriarchal hand of the state even more. But let’s not kid ourselves into thinking a Labour Government (or a Green one) would be any better — government, under whatever facade, is still the rule of the few over the many.

Capitalism, hand-in-hand with the state once again finds itself in an economic situation that hits those already feeling the effects of a bankrupt system. In Aotearoa (and across the globe) we are witnessing wage freezes coupled with rising prices. Companies close or move offshore, resulting in workers losing their jobs — our livelihoods are destroyed in their never-ending scramble for profit. We unwillingly pay for a crisis not of our doing.

The responses to these attacks have not challenged the state in any meaningful way. Protest activity, while at times large in number has been small in results. Trade unions have failed dismally in resisting the wind back of workers’ gains, completely lacking in both radical ideology and effective activity. Politicians — well they’re part of the problem and will never offer any kind of solution that would threaten their positions of privilege.

Unfortunately, the overwhelming answer for many is to give up their power to that of a representative (politician, community bureaucrat or union official) who will supposedly act on our behalf. We are encouraged to believe that we are powerless to effect any real change in our lives, and political structures are designed to reinforce this. Yet as long as a minority make decisions on our behalf we cannot be free. The sense of community, solidarity, and collective action needed for meaningful change is diffused through structures that privilege a debasing of power (giving our power to somebody else).

Challenging this trend towards the delegation of activity to others is no easy feat, yet it’s one way to move from current defensive action and onto the offensive. Structures and tactics that empower, employ direct action and offer revolutionary alternatives to capitalism and the state are needed more than ever. The time has come for real resistance, for the building of a movement that will effect actual change. This is nothing new. Nor are we the first to point this out. Establishing solidarity and gaining real power through struggle will enable us to break with a culture of dependency and the existing order: this is the pressing task ahead.


“You can’t destroy a society by using the organs which are there to preserve it… any class who wants to liberate itself must create its own organs.”
— H. Lagardell

Recent protest action has been merely symbolic and sporadic. We turn up, feel disillusioned, and go home. Politicians then get kudos and claim ‘grassroots’ bragging rights. Nothing changes. There are next to no organisational links being made, analysis of the root causes of the issues we protest against are not being heard, and there’s not much relevant follow-up action. These protests, if they do draw people along, are limited to the usual lobbying of government and illustrate quite plainly the passivity that is symptomatic of a culture of representation.

This same ineffectuality carries through to trade union structures. While there are many sincere and militant members in these unions, a union’s hierarchical and bureaucratic nature limits their scope. It should be clear to all by now that any chance of using the existing unions as tools of social change is, well, kaput — due to their mediating position within capitalism, their conciliatory rather than confrontational stance, and their limitation to trade or workplace.

The last century has been full of failed attempts to reform trade unions. Any reform attempt that seriously threatens the union’s role as ‘social partners’ to management would require a significant upsurge in militancy from the membership. This upsurge would naturally have to come about through actual class struggle, so it seems odd to focus on making an existing union ‘more radical’ when the struggle needed to make it more radical would be enough on its own. This approach equates working class action with trade union action. Yes, lets work with those in unions who share a critique of them and win members to our ideas, but our orientation should be towards actual working class conflict, not one particular form that conflict can take (ie the traditional trade union form). To become absorbed in current unions and their hierarchy destroys militancy and meaningful action.

Furthermore, current unions cause divisions between different groups of workers (non-members/ members of other unions) in the same workplace, trade or industry who share the same interests, acting as a barrier to common class action. A focus on current unions in Aotearoa also neglects their low membership — it also ignores sites of struggle outside of the traditional union’s scope such as unpaid work in the home and community, fights by the unemployed, possible rent strikes etc.

We must take note and move on from the failed forms of the past and look to foster effective struggle — to build dual power and a culture of resistance.


“We carry a new world here, in our hearts. That world is growing this minute.”
— Buenaventura Durruti

What do we mean by dual power, and how can we build it? Dual power can be understood as a way of practicing anarchist methods of organisation in order to grow a culture of resistance. It means encouraging direct control of struggle by those in struggle, the practice of non-hierarchical workplace and community assemblies, and collective decision-making based on direct democracy. It’s a way of challenging the power of boss, landlord and government until such time we can abolish them. Building dual power challenges authoritarian structures of power and at the same time, points towards the libertarian future we envision. It not only opposes the state, it also prepares for the difficult confrontations and questions that will arise in a revolutionary situation.

Dual power has to come about through struggle, through ongoing organising around real (not perceived) needs, and through direct action. Running a collective for food distribution or a radical bookshop, while having its own value, does not really confront wider social relations — this is collectively managing a resource, not the building of dual power. Dual power is not prefigurative in the sense that it is building counter institutions that will magically grow within capitalism and replace it once it’s gone. Dual power is prefigurative in terms of the means we use now, the way we organise our struggles, and the way we relate to others during that struggle. Building dual power points to a possible, but not predetermined future.

Dual power can’t be built in isolation or by traditional structures such as trade unions or political parties, as such structures are not set up to encourage such a sharing of power (as we pointed out above). This is where some kind of network that would span across union lines and workplace isolation — and link to the wider community — could play a significant role.


“History always repeats itself: first time as tragedy, second time as farce.”
— Karl Marx

Revisiting successful aspects of the anarcho-syndicalist tradition and its tactics of revolutionary struggle (within and outside of the workplace) is something that could potentially move beyond representation and build the culture of resistance described above. By coming together in one network based on direct action, solidarity and the ideas of anarchism, we could offer a very real alternative to both reformist action and the capitalist system itself. It could do what the current unions can’t or won’t do.

We don’t buy the argument that what’s needed is a similar network but without the explicitly anarchist position. Membership is not the goal of a successful network, meaningful struggle with a radical vision is. The focus would be to build class conflict, not the building of a union. To fetishise union membership over radical content has failed time and time again — an effective network should focus on class struggle rather than recruiting as many people as possible. A network of 20 people who manage to foster the growth of radical assemblies wherever they are (workplace or community) would have a larger effect than a network of 200 without any confrontational vision or strategy.

Likewise, a network that waters down its politics to a perceived level of resistance acceptable to people ends up reducing the level of both. This is the problem with ‘pure syndicalism’ that would concentrate on economic demands (wages etc) without an anarchist analysis of political structures that enforce wage slavery. It is absurd to say that someone who could be concerned with the money they receive would not also be concerned with why that money exists and how it is shared around. It’s also absurd to assume people don’t question the fact they have to work for a wage all their life. We need to move beyond pure economics and question the political nature of work itself.


“An organization must always remember that its objective is not getting people to listen to speeches by experts, but getting them to speak for themselves.”
— Guy Debord

Instead, the role of those of us in a network would be to put forward explicitly anarchist ideas and call for open assemblies in our workplace or community struggles. We would argue for direct control of these struggles by the mass assembly itself (not by any union or representative, including our own network). This means wherever we are based we should try to get together with our workmates and neighbours to collectively discuss our problems, regardless of whether they are in the network or not. Anyone who is affected by a particular issue should be included and involved, regardless of their union membership, place of employment, gender, race or age. The key is the self-activity of all of those concerned, to widen the fight and encourage a state of permanent dialogue.

By promoting direct action and solidarity, putting across anarchist ideas and offering practical examples of those ideas in practice, we would hopefully start to build a culture of resistance. This is vastly different to the current representative unions or community boards, whose unaccountable officials take it on themselves to control the fight and steer it along an acceptable path. By practicing and promoting mass meetings in times of struggle, we plant the seeds of ongoing, relevant forms of resistance which empower all of those effected — not just network members, but those who aren’t members of the network and who may never want to be.

A network could also offer important solidarity to those who are isolated (such as sub-contractors, temps, causal workers, the unemployed and those at home) and help build a sense of community. It could act as an important source of skill sharing and education — doing all the useful things the current unions do (acting as source of advice, sharing knowledge on labour law, foster solidarity etc) while critiquing their legalist and bureaucratic frameworks. Advice on employment law, community law, bullying at work, health and safety, WINZ and benefit changes — these are all important needs that a network could meet.

However it’s not our job as anarchists to resolve the problems of capitalism, but to keep alive the differences between the exploited and the exploiter, to build a culture of resistance. Our skill sharing and advice must be geared towards this vision. While we should offer practical support we can’t lose sight of our anarchist critique of the current system and our ultimate aim of social revolution: the network is not a help line that simply privileges outsider expertise, but is a fighting organization aimed at empowering those in need and encouraging radical self-activity.

If the activity of such a network related to real needs, was structured so that it involved the wider community in meeting those needs, and illustrated anarchist ideas in practice, it would show that anarchism is relevant to everyday life more effectively than a flyer, discussion group or theoretical journal ever could.


“The self-emancipation of the working class is the breakdown of capitalism”
— Anton Pannekoek

Historically we are currently in a low period of radical struggle, partly because of the culture of representation described above. But radical struggle doesn't pick up by magic, by the right mix of historical context. Struggle picks up through struggle, through the self-activity of the working class. The economic breakdown of capitalism doesn’t equate to radical change: just because we’re experiencing an economic downturn doesn’t mean the social revolution is on our doorstep. Nor does capitalism follow a pre-determined tune that allows us to sit back and wait for it to play out. Capitalism has the ability to adapt and even profit from such downturns. As the quote above illustrates (and history proves), the self-activity of those in struggle is paramount to moving beyond a capitalist ‘crisis’ to social revolution. A network and its activity could aid in this upswing of struggle.

A revolutionary network premised on the ideas and tactics described above is what Beyond Resistance aims to help create in the near future. We call for and encourage discussion about these ideas and tactics — if you agree or disagree then let’s get talking. An email list has been set up for this very purpose: discussionbeyondresistance-subscribe (at) lists.riseup.net We hope to start regionally, but we invite all those in Aotearoa interested in such a network and its formation to participate in a hui tentatively organised for September 2010. Any input and knowledge is welcomed. Let us move forward together in the fight against this inhumane, patriarchal and exploitative system and start to build a culture of resistance in Aotearoa. — JUNE 2010. beyondresistance.wordpress.com

Examples and further reading:

Solidarity Federation
Anarchist Workers Network
Seattle Solidarity Network
Strategy and Struggle: anarcho-syndicalism in the 21st century
Anarcho-syndicalism in Puerto Real
To Work or Not to Work: Is that the Question?
Winning the Class War: an anarcho-syndicalist strategy