Magnificient soundwork by prolific young russian femme avantgardist electronic composer


MEDIA OPERA
by Lyoubov Touinova
The media opera consists of 31 pieces, like 31 extra days in a month, performed by the author in the form of a diary of a digital artist of posthumanity. Working at the junction of numbers, poetry, sound, beyond Dada and Zaumi, everyday life - the touching part emerges from the dust of time.

Media opera Data City is a story about lonely consciousness, a diary of a posthistorical solipsist, if you like. A depressing echo of a voice that is in an eternal return to its immortal nostalgia for real life. Living in a data city is a hide and seek game with its own and collective memory. The body is distorted in numbers, nothing claims to be realism, everything is hyper-realistic, given the fact of total power of abstraction in the digital space.
the work of memory is not always a story with a happy ending, it is not necessarily a useful or healing activity, success is not guaranteed here, experts said, "this is a difficult, tragic thing." Memory deals with matter, which by its nature is unreliable, slipping out of hands, and the figure, the data of the city in this digital empire in this case is no exception ... the matter on which we depend, of which we are composed, or even feel our duty to it realizing those opportunities that have not come true in it.
And all this is superimposed, provided by new technical means, an already almost painful passion for fixing one’s own life, archiving oneself - this is what a contemporary artist’s diary in the form of a media opera is - the more digital dust we rake into our cloud storage, the greater the mystery becomes the answer to the question, who will understand the feelings from the city of data, who will understand them, if not archangels of data, if not a given deity ..
Cities are traces of people's lives. In the case of the media opera, Data City is the artist’s digital footprint, a trace given by a feeling of inescapable.
The memory of givenness, and everything connected with it, everything that is thought over and spoken out about this, is not a retelling of the “single textbook of history”, in which the same “national matrix”, “cultural code” is implemented from century to century ”, - this is from Lyubov Tuinova’s words“ the abyss of shining digital dust ”, a multidimensional probabilistic space, whose laws we do not really understand.


"hello, we invite you to the course" how to trust people safely ", only a mature person is able to create a harmonious world around you, and when will you mature? will you be quick to thank all those who helped you to be yourself and become who you are? did you manage to not only to say thank you to everyone, but also to repay good? Moira has twisted her tangle - but who will give you time to unravel it? in the underworld room crumpled sheets covered with ciphers, but not having figured them out, the soul will die. it’s not only thought his own soul, but also to strengthen their spirit?
can a course of safe trust in people prove to be an assistant in this matter? what is this spirit, do you have a soul, do you trust people safely? a man at the back of the community, a man at the back of ideas, a man at the back, how are you? you radiate and create, nothing prevents you from being happy. a man at the back of the world who does not expect anyone, but also does not absolve anyone from responsibility either for being late or for rushing. but the most terrible thing is that you can’t do something for the most part at the wrong time.
and together with the concept of fate, a baby streams on us from the horizontal ceiling of freedom .. I will rest my head against the wall, I will stick my gaze into it. who will stop me if there is a director or a free artist on my back? yes, one of the passers-by will hint with a grin that I am deceiving myself, but no one can stop self-deception until this creates a pathology incompatible with life. but life suffers both pathologies and self-deception, for the time being, the ball of moira is woven more and more, the loops are tightened ever tighter. nothing is irreparable. pickles will not be fresh. Does a mature child remain?
Vladik Monroe had a club of mature youth, he was wise. he died . they say he died stupidly. they say, do not evaluate the life and happiness of a person until you find out how he died, they say ... the dog barks - the wind wears. they say, the word creates worlds, they say, you were on the other, they talk about what they cannot keep silent about, they are silent about what they cannot say, the cunning of omnipotence, the wort of the witch of the witch. veil.