An extract from my keynote address last week at Ogilvy´s creative directors conference:
“We seem to be consuming one catastrophe after another, and maybe this was one of the most enduring legacies of September 11, 2001, as far as news and narratives are concerned: the establishment of a continuous state of catastrophe, the agent and subjects of which shift regularly, but nonetheless a narrative in which we envision the possibility of some sort of global dead end on a weekly basis.
The end of the World never quite happens, or at least it hasn´t happened yet, and once the catastrophe of the week seems stabilized, we go back to our previous routines, fairly expecting the next grand narrative to hit any time soon, while gaining a sort of added muscle in the process. It is interesting to notice how, as soon as the majority of European air space shut down due to volcanic ash, news writers and bloggers began speculating about what a world without planes would be like, dreaming of a brighter future where distance would go back to becoming the key issue in communication and presence: a sort of nostalgia took over for a brief while, and a few writers seemed to want this world without planes to become our future. Yet this vision, this quasi-desire, was all but wiped out from our minds once airspace was re-opened. We understood it as it was: an exercise in reverie, just as the episode itself.”
and an excerpt from my talk yesterday at Dia D. A moment of rapturous audience applause as soon as this image was projected: