(with follow-up commentary, below)

The luminous German-Jewish intellectual, writer, and critic Walter Benjamin (1892-1940) wrote his dissertation on romantic conceptions of art, and created, across the arc of his brilliant and too-short life, an astonishing textual record of his own aesthetic sensitivity — and analytic rigor. Was he an active associate of the Avis Tertia?  There has been a good deal of informal speculation on this matter over the years. That he moved in “Birdish” circles in Paris in the late 1930s is beyond question, and in her compelling article on the Order of the Third Bird and Surrealism (“The Kittiwake Dossier: Object-Oriented Aggregation and Foundational Efforts of the Order among the Parisian Surrealists, 1932–1941,” Proceedings of ESTAR(SER) New Series vi, Vol. 6 [2015] : 17–35, and reproduced as chapter 13 of Burnett, Hansen, Smith, eds., In Search of the Third Bird [London: Strange Attractor & MIT, 2021]), Joanna Fiduccia considers whether Benjamin’s notion of the “Profane Illumination” might properly apply to the ecstatic forms of metempsychotic transport at the heart of Birdish practices.

Recent correspondence from Berlin has nudged this issue again to the fore:

This past week I was re-reading Benjamin’s affecting Berliner Kindheit um neunzehnhundert (“Berlin Childhood around 1900”), and came across the following passage, which struck me with new force:

The story comes from China, and tells of an old painter who invited friends to see his newest picture. This picture showed a park and a narrow footpath that ran along a stream and through a grove of trees, culminating at the door of a little cottage in the background. When the painter’s friends, however, looked around for the painter, they saw that he was gone — that he was in the picture. There, he followed the little path that led to the door, paused before it quite still, turned, smiled, and disappeared through the narrow opening.

Benjamin goes on to position this charming tale of painterly magic in relation to his own youthful transports as a lover of Chinese ceramics (and painting):

In the same way, I too, when occupied with my paintpots and brushes, would be suddenly displaced into the picture. I would resemble the porcelain which I had entered in a cloud of colors.

It seems impossible NOT to read this as a powerful invocation of the metempsychotic potency of certain kinds of aesthetic reverie.  I notice, further, that the German-Korean philosopher Byung-Chul Han has recently signaled this very passage in his Vita Contemplativa, juxtaposing it with a short passage from the Gesammelte Schriften (Vol. VI, p. 194) where Benjamin invokes the “mastery of mimesis in the form of adaptive metamorphosis.” For Han, the “magic smile” in the cited story of the Chinese painting is, for Benjamin (and for us), an indicator of “mimetic openness” and indicates a willingness to “make oneself similar to the on at which it is directed.” 

It seems to me that, properly read, this section of Benjamin’s recollections can be understood to bear on the larger issue of his putative association with the Avis Tertia.

But perhaps it is even more interesting to consider the place of that smile in Birdish activities more generally? A quick perusal of several issues of the Proceedings surfaces a number of instances of archival invocations of somewhat mysterious smiles in the context of various Bird activities (perhaps none more mysterious than the line in the seventh canto of the poem “The Urn” [Weng 瓮], by the twentieth-century Chinese poet, and associate of the Order, Xu Zhimo [徐志摩], “A smile must miss its corner to find its crease…”).

More work is surely needed on this aspect of Birdish affect. Might the classic exhortation in the Practice — “Temporary metempsychosis may occur, but must not become permanent” — want rethinking in the context of the “magic smile?”

-Zibel Frette, Berlin

Much for further reflection here.  We would only note that the “The Urn” can be found reproduced, and translated, in: The Sevens Working Group, “The Fitzwilliam Schism: Practical Criticism and Practical Aesthesis in Britain and Beyond, 1925–1975,” Proceedings of ESTAR(SER) New Series v, Vol. 4 (2013) : 90–110.

AND A FOLLOW-UP NOTE ON THE ABOVE

“The Quack Heard Around the World”

No sooner had we “posted” the correspondence above than we received a follow-up note from another longstanding ESTAR(SER) scholar. We reproduce it here in full:

To the editors:

I was happy to read Zibel Frette’s recent note on magical paintings — and magical painters. But could I ask that you publish my brief comment?  The “Chinese” story invoked by Benjamin is, whether he knew it or not, an oft-repeated commonplace and can be found in numerous forms in diverse cultural traditions. The “painting that comes to life,” the “painter that enters his painting” — these are touchstones across the many folk traditions that press (nervously) on the potency of mimetic gestures.

This is particularly on my mind at the present moment, in that I am preparing a submission to the Proceedings that will look closely at the “Birdish” entanglements of a winsome children’s story published in 1988 by the author/illustrator Jon Agee. I am referring to The Incredible Painting of Felix Clousseau. The book tells the tale of the titular bohemian (and under-appreciated) artist who eventually becomes the toast of Paris for his canvases, which are endowed with seemingly magical powers — in that they can “come to life.” This is initially celebrated as a wonder, but eventually leads (sorcerer’s-apprentice-style) to calamity.

It will be of interest to the readers of the Communiqués that, in the wake of the chaos, Felix Clousseau escapes into one of his own paintings:

So far, so charming.  But what stands out for the student of the Avis Tertia in this lovely book is that CLOUSSEAU’S “BREAKOUT” PAINTING DEPICTS A BIRD…

…WHICH SINGS OUT FROM THE CANVAS IN THE COURSE OF A COMPETITIVE EXHIBITION:

The result is instant acclaim — though a “can of worms” has also been opened…

I will not, here, attempt to summarize my forthcoming study of this book in relation to the history of the Order, as the material is too intricate to résumé concisely. However, readers conversant with the wider historiography of ESTAR(SER) will readily recognize the ways that the Incredible Painting of Felix Clousseau can be read as a remarkable inversion of the constitutive origin-story of the Birds themselves — to wit, the Plinian account of Zeuxis and the birds that come to peck at the painting of the child carrying grapes. In that story, of course, real birds come to the “lure” of the simulacral image. In the tale of Felix Clousseau, real birds come OUT of the simulacral image, and they and their conjured kin wreak havoc. Here we have a very different kind of “image trouble” — a double-effect, in which, read properly, the “real” bird can be seen to enter a “second” image (that of the illustrated book itself).  We might call this an instance of “mimetic exacerbation” (as theorized by Hal Foster). 

Is Jon Agee associated with the Avis Tertia? And should his bright little story be read as an actual allegory of metempsychotic transport?  I address these questions in my (forthcoming) study, which I appreciate your announcing to your readers.

-Molly Gottstauk, Agawam, Oklahoma

Readers of the Proceedings of ESTAR(SER) will be aware that there has been a great deal of work done on the place of the Order of the Third Bird in the history of South America, none of it more suggestive than the effort to disentangle the place of the Birds in the biography of Hercule Florence (1804–1879), and the notorious Expedição Langsdorff.

We recently received, in the editorial office, a new publication, KUSKA PURIKUSUN or, “Let’s Walk Together,” a compendium of folk-tales in Quechua, presented in a useful trilingual edition (with translations into Spanish and English).  Imagine our surprise on flipping through this attractive scholarly volume, and discovering the following:

Which can be rendered into Spanish, apparently, as follows:

Or, in English (!!!):

Obviously, we are in need of further work here.  Anyone with insight is invited to pass along leads.  An ESTAR(SER) “Working Group” is likely to emerge to investigate this new discovery in a proper way.

A surprising AI-generated image (Dall-E), in reply to a prompt asking for an image of “Birds”

An associate of ESTAR(SER) who stays abreast of recent developments in “cyberspace” has recently written to Communiqués with an interesting report.  We append it here below:

TO THE EDITORS:

Many of the readers of ESTAR(SER)’s Proceedings, and the more regular “Notes and Comments” circulars will be familiar with the proliferation of new digital tools that facilitate archival research. Much of the scholarship on the “Order of the Third Bird” over the last two decades has made exciting new use of bibliographical finding aids and full-text searchable databases of rare published materials, and this has enabled discoveries and insights not previously available to earlier generations of researchers.  But nothing in any of that work has prepared us for the ground-breaking power of the new “Artificial Intelligence” systems that have become widely available in the last two years.  The generative AI architecture that underlies ChatGPT is capable of synthesizing resources, analyzing problems, and even making independent (and novel!) observations across the widest conceivable range of human endeavor.  The implications for historical research (in general), and ongoing study of the Birds (specifically) could not be greater.  Though it is difficult, at this early stage of so radical a new technology, to foresee exactly where all this will lead.

In order to make a preliminary demonstration of the utility of these instruments, my colleagues and I, making use of ChatGPT-4, conducted a preliminary AI “parley” concerning the Order.  We were struck by the results, and convey them here: 

ESTAR(SER) researchers:  What are you able to tell me about the group known as “the Order of the Third Bird?”

ChatGPT – 4:  The Order of the Third Bird is a somewhat enigmatic group with a focus on attentive practices, particularly regarding the contemplation of art and objects. Here are some key aspects of this group:

• 1. Mystique and Secrecy: The Order of the Third Bird has a certain aura of mystery surrounding it. The details about its origins, membership, and specific practices often seem intentionally obscured, contributing to its enigmatic reputation.
• 2. Art and Contemplation: Central to the group’s activities is the act of intense and prolonged contemplation of artworks or objects. This practice is often described as a ritualistic or meditative engagement with art, going beyond mere observation to a deeper, more immersive experience.
• 3. Historical References: While the true history of the Order is difficult to trace, various historical references and documents suggest that it has been in existence for centuries. These references often imply a longstanding tradition of intellectual and artistic engagement among its members.
• 4. Influence on Art and Thought: The Order has reportedly influenced various artists, writers, and thinkers throughout history. Its emphasis on deep contemplation and the experiential aspect of art has been said to contribute to broader discussions in aesthetics and the philosophy of perception.
• 5. Modern Interpretations: In recent times, the Order has been the subject of various artistic and scholarly interpretations. Some see it as a real entity with a significant historical presence, while others view it as a fictional or metaphorical construct used to explore ideas about art and observation.
• 6. Cultural and Literary Appearances: The Order of the Third Bird occasionally appears in cultural and literary works, often used as a device to explore themes of observation, the nature of art, and the boundaries between reality and fiction.

Given the elusive nature of the Order, it’s challenging to distinguish between historical fact and creative interpretation. Much of what is known about the Order comes from artistic and literary sources, which may blend truth, myth, and artistic license.

We were impressed by this overview, which strikes us as less confused than we often encounter when raising the topic — even with relatively well-informed persons.  It will be worth considering other ways this new tool can facilitate our research and point the way to new perspectives on Birdish historiography.

Follow-up suggestions, or parallel reports are welcome: esthetical.society@gmail.com

A correspondent from Paris wrote recently:

“I was struck, on page 184 of my edition of The Portrait of a Lady, by James’s use of scare-quotes around “sustained” as it modifies “attention” (see attached).

It is almost as if there were some fixed phrase with which he was familiar and to which he wishes to allude…”

While much ink has been spilled on William James’s relationship to the Order of the Third Bird (see, for instance, The William James Working Group, “ ‘Fix Your Eyes Right Here !’ The Life and Times of Inyard Kip Ketchem, the Performing Attention Doctor,” Proceedings of ESTAR(SER) New Series IV, Vol. 2 [2012] : 63–91; recently reprinted in Burnett, Hansen, and Smith, In Search of the Third Bird), much less is known about the other James brother’s entanglements with avian matters. The topic invites further work, and additional references or documents are solicited.

Many readers of these Communiquées will remember the late, great ESTAR(SER) scholar Gregg C. Toomey (1958-2018), whose unparalleled review essay, “ESTAR(SER) and the W- Cache: The State of the Discussion” (originally published in the Proceedings, New Series v, Vol. 3 [2013]: 1–16), was recently reprinted, as Chapter 3, in the “Best of the Proceedings” volume, In Search of the Third Bird (London: Strange Attractor, 2021). Toomey was, of course, something of a “character,” and, even by his own account, a persistent thorn in the side of the administration at Ball State. He had a reputation as a practical joker, but at times it could be difficult to tell if he was joking.  An unfinished short manuscript by Toomey, recently come to light, has left a number of us uncertain as to his intentions in this regard.  We offer a précis of the problem here, in case anyone has any ideas.

The term “bird” is surely “polysemous,” in that we have no shortage of meanings (hugely diverse!) that have been associated with the word.  Used as a verb and a noun, and deployed in a host of settings (including many slangs), the term can sometimes seem too slippery for reliable communication.  Toomey, of course, taught in the Communications department at Ball State, and had a longstanding interest in American popular argots. A folder of notes found in his Nachlass reveals that he collected a host of sources bearing on the stemma of the expression “The Bird is the Word” – a jingle best remembered in connection with the 1963 hit by the landlocked midwestern “surfing” band, the Trashmen, “Surfin’ Bird,” in which, amidst a bass-line warble of indecipherable phonemes, the agitated lead vocalist continuously chants “The Bird, the Bird, the Bird is the Word.” The lyrics can be reconstructed as follows:

A-well-a everybody’s heard about the bird
B-b-b-bird, b-birdd’s the word
A-well, a bird, bird, bird, bird is the word
A-well, a bird, bird, bird, well-a bird is the word
A-well, a bird, bird, bird, b-bird’s the word
A-well, a bird, bird, bird, well-a bird is the word
A-well, a bird, bird, b-bird is the word
A-well, a bird, bird, bird, b-bird’s the word
A-well, a bird, bird, bird, well-a bird is the word
A-well, a bird, bird, b-bird’s the word
A-well-a don’t you know about the bird?
Well, everybody knows that the bird is the word
A-well-a-bird, bird, b-bird’s the word, a-well-a
A-well-a everybody’s heard about the bird
Bird, bird, bird, b-bird’s the word
A-well, a bird, bird, bird, b-bird’s the word
A-well, a bird, bird, bird, b-bird’s the word
A-well, a bird, bird, b-bird’s the word
A-well, a bird, bird, bird, b-bird’s the word
A-well, a bird, bird, bird, b-bird’s the word
A-well, a bird, bird, bird, b-bird’s the word
A-well, a bird, bird, bird, b-bird’s the word
A-well-a don’t you know about the bird?
Well, everybody’s talking about the bird!
A-well-a bird, bird, b-bird’s the word
A-well-a bird, surfing bird, brr, brr, ah, ah
Ah, bap-a-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pap
Ma-ma-mow, pa-pa, ma-ma-mow, pa-pa
Ma-ma-mow, pa-pa, ma-ma-mow, pa-pa
Ma-ma-mow, pa-pa, ma-ma-mow, pa-pa
Ma-ma-mow, pa-pa, ma-ma-mow, pa-pa
Ma-ma-mow, pa-pa, ma-ma-mow, pa-pa
Ma-ma-mow, pa-pa, ma-ma-mow, pa-pa
Ma-ma-ma-ma-mow, pa-pa, ma-ma-mow, pa-pa
Ma-ma-ma-ma-mow, pa-pa, ma-ma-mow, pa-pa
Ma-ma-mow, pa-pa, ma-ma-mow, pa-pa
Ma-ma-mow, pa-pa, ma-ma-mow, pa-pa
Ma-ma-mow, ma-ma-mow, pa-pa
Ma-ma-mow, ma-ma-mow, pa-pa
Ma-ma-ma-ma, ma-ma-mow
Ma-ma-ma-ma, ma-ma-mow
Ma-ma-mow, pa-pa, ma-ma-mow, pa-pa
Ma-ma-mow, pa-pa, ma-ma-mow
A-well-a don’t you know about the bird?
Well, everybody knows that the bird is the word
A-well, a bird, bird, b-bird’s the word
A-well-a mow, mow, pa-pa, ma-ma-mow, pa-pa
Ma-ma-mow, ma-ma, mow, pa-pa

Did Toomey actually believe that this song spoke to the history of the Order of the Third Bird?  It seems unlikely.  There are many reasons to doubt the connection.  Minneapolis native Steve Wahrer, the drummer and lead vocalist for the Trashmen (who conjured the hit), is not otherwise known to have associated with the Avis Tertia, or to have shown any particular interest in durational exercises of immersive attention of a “Birdish” character.  Toomey may have collected the related sources, then, as part of a gag, or in connection with a piece of nonce-scholarship with which he may have intended to amuse a few colleagues.

But there is evidence that Toomey may have gotten increasingly seduced by the intricacies of the story he gradually uncovered.  After all, Wahrer and the Trashmen ultimately had to cede credit for “Surfin’ Bird,” after legal proceedings revealed what many insider-aficionados already knew:  the song was a satura (at best) or, less charitably, a total rip-off, in that the lyrics and the tune had been cobbled together, without acknowledgement, from the work of the African-American R&B band The Rivingtons, whose “The Bird’s the Word” had established the gnomic refrain, and whose “Papa-Oom-Mow-Mow” set the canonical bass-line.  Both releases predated “Surfin’ Bird” (the latter in 1962; the former in 1963, but in advance of the Trashmen’s vinyl).  A settlement was reached.  The Rivingtons themselves followed up on the success of “Surfin’ Bird” (which reached #4 on the Billboard top 40) by producing a new song, “Mama-Oom-Mow-Mow” which (like the work of their plagiarists) integrated the bass-line of “Papa-Oom-Mow-Mow” with the lyrical elements of “The Bird’s the Word.” Released on a new LP entitled “Doin’ the Bird,” the song failed to chart.

The “Bird” in this context was, of course, a dance, the moves of which are demonstrated here, on the back of a subsequent Rivington’s album:

There is a good deal of material in Toomey’s final writings suggesting that he came to suspect that there was, in fact, a genealogical link tying the somatics and kinetics of the “Bird” to “Birdish” practices of ludic aesthesis.  But did he, really?  Anyone having further archival information or other insights on this matter is invited to pass correspondence to the Secretary.

The Frye Trunk (closed)

Readers of the Communiqués will likely have heard some discussion, over the last two years, concerning the discovery and acquisition of the unusual valise that has come to be known as “The Frye Trunk.” This large leather-trimmed portable storage unit came to the attention of ESTAR(SER) researchers in connection with investigations into the history of radical practices of attention in the Pacific Northwest, a program of inquiry occasioned by a commission from the Frye Art Museum, in Seattle (which contacted us in 2019 about the possibility of mounting an exhibition on this topic).  A preliminary report on the trunk, and its remarkable contents, is now available in the form of a new Proceedings monograph, The Working Group on Exhibitions, “The Frye Trunk: Opening a ‘Pandora’s Box’ in the Archives of Attention,” Proceedings of ESTAR(SER) New Series VIII, Supplement (2022). There is broad consensus that this portmanteau ATTENTIONAL ECOSYSTEM represents a key artifact attesting to nearly a century of “Birdish” activities in Seattle and its environs.  The object is at the center of a new exhibition at the Frye Museum, THE THIRD, MEANING, and interested persons are encouraged to make an effort to see this useful installation, which is complete with explanatory text, etc.  Special thanks to the Frye Trunk Conservation Committee (Grace Caiazza, Stevie Knauss, Jared Rankin, and Max Taylor-Milner) who did a great deal of work to stabilize this special find, and to prepare it for public display.

BUT OF SPECIAL INTEREST, and much less well-known, is the recent TRANS-AMERICAN ESTAR(SER) RESEARCH EXPEDITION, undertaken in August of 2022, in connection with the translation of the Frye Trunk from the Milcom Memorial Reading Room and Attention Library in Jersey City (where it had been the subject of the research reflected in the new monograph) to the Frye Art Museum in Seattle (for the new exhibition).  This cross-country trip was made conjoint with a series of formal, semi-formal, and fully-informal site-visits and collecting stops — all of the greatest interest to anyone familiar with the history of the Order of the Third Bird (together with its associated [and disassociated] movements, communities, collectives, etc.).  The editors of Communiqués recently received an informative research report from one of the members of the traveling party, THE DIARY OF OREN S. UNDERWOOD.  Click on the “hyperlink” to consult the full document. And click on the image below for an actual glimpse of video footage from the expedition itself….

No formal documentation thus far surfacing in the W-Cache—or, for that matter, in other repositories—directly links Edgar Allen Poe (1809 – 1849) to the Avis Tertia. However, there have been a number of efforts over the years to suggest that this celebrated (and notoriously macabre) American writer did indeed have connections to associates of the Order working in the antebellum United States (see, for instance, Michael Neet, “‘Quoth the Raven’: Baltimore Birds and the Writing of The Raven,” proceedings of ESTAR(SER), Vol. 11, No. 4 [1967]: 62-83).

Recent correspondence from an ESTAR(SER) affiliate in Paris reopens this question along what is, we believe, a new line of inquiry. The following will orient interested readers:

I was struck this past summer in the course of a beach-read of Edgar Allen Poe’s brutal Berenice (1835) by the unmistakable odor of the Order.  Those familiar with the story will recall that it centers on a young and ill-fated couple, BOTH of whom suffer from what must be understood as a disfiguring hypertrophy of the attentional faculty. Just as the black bird in Poe’s celebrated Raven would seem to smack of a sepulchral and pessimistic “take” on Birdishness, Berenice strongly suggests a stern warning to all those who would cultivate extreme/metempsychotic forms of attention. Was Poe again harping resentfully on the activities of the Avis Tertia on account of the perceived slights documented by Michael Neet in his classic article? It seems likely. I am enclosing, here, a transcription of the key early passage in which the attentional fixations of the two main characters are explicitly invoked:

Among the numerous train of maladies superinduced by that fatal and primary one which effected a revolution of so horrible a kind in the moral and physical being of my cousin may be mentioned as the most distressing and obstinate in its nature a species of epilepsy not unfrequently terminating in trance itself – trance very nearly resembling positive dissolution, and from which her manner of recovery was, in most instances, startlingly abrupt. In the meantime my own disease – for I have been told that I should call it by no other appellation – my own disease, then, grew rapidly upon me, and assumed finally a monomaniac character of a novel and extraordinary form – hourly and momently gaining vigour — and at length obtaining over me the most incomprehensible ascendancy. This monomania, if I must so term it, consisted in a morbid irritability of those properties of the mind in metaphysical science termed the “attentive.” It is more than probable that I am not understood, but I fear, indeed, that it is in no manner possible to convey to the mind of the merely general reader an adequate idea of that nervous intensity of interest with which, in my case, the powers of meditation (not to speak technically) busied and buried themselves in the contemplation of even the most ordinary objects of the universe.

To muse for long unwearied hours, with my attention riveted to some frivolous device on the margin, or in the typography of a book – to become absorbed, for the better part of a summer’s day, in a quaint shadow falling aslant upon the tapestry or upon the floor – to lose myself, for an entire night, in watching the steady flame of a lamp or the embers of a fire – to dream away whole days over the perfume of a flower – to repeat, monotonously, some common word until the sound by dint of frequent repetition, ceased to convey any idea whatever to the mind; to lose all sense of motion or physical existence by means of absolute bodily quiescence long and obstinately persevered in: such were a few of the most common and least pernicious vagaries induced by a condition of the mental faculties – not, indeed, altogether unparalleled, but certainly bidding defiance to anything like analysis or explanation. Yet let me not be misapprehended…

Appreciation for this fascinating lead; further work, following up, would be of great interest.

Sometimes the post brings the most extraordinary things.  As many readers will know, the Milcom Memorial Room and Attention Library has been closed for much of the Pandemic, and that has meant a considerable backlog of correspondence.  On a recent visit, the current B.B. Chamberlin Fellow collected a satchel of snailmail and two shoebox-sized packages postmarked Chattanooga, Tennessee.  The latter, it has turned out, convey to the archive a remarkable clutch of ESTAR(SER) ephemera, most of which dates to the 1960s and early 1970s. The materials (which are a gift of one “Howard Kirkeyard,” not previously known to any of us) appear to have belonged to the legendary “Sonny” Kirkeyard, who briefly assumed editorial control over the Proceedings in the mid-1960s.  The gem of gems, which came to light in the smaller of the two boxes, is a short Super-8 film introducing the work of ESTAR(SER) for lay audiences.  None of us had previously seen this, or anything quite like it!  (Many thanks to Seth “Kilimanjaro” Pybas for his careful digitization of this treasure…)

ESTAR(SER) researchers have a longstanding interest in the ways that new media forms shift attentional behaviors and dynamics. The Order of the Third Bird has been, of course, directly affected, across history, by changing media regimes.  The work of Rein Narma, for instance, is a notable and well-studied instance of the intersection of new technologies and new forms of Bird Practice (in this case involving audio processing systems in the 1940s-1960s).  Television, too, had massive implications for the attentional regimes of mid-century America, and can be assumed to have reverberated through volées of active Birds.  Unfortunately, this remains an under-studied aspect of the history of the Avis Tertia — in large part on account of a paucity of relevant source material.  An ESTAR(SER) researcher living in Royal Oak, MI, wrote recently to the Corresponding Secretary concerning a possible lead in this ares.  She has approved the posting of the following anonymous query/announcement:

Working in the archives of the Hudson Theater, in New York City, I came recently upon a body of documents suggesting a connection between the Order of the Third Bird and the modestly successful 1950s television gameshow Feather Your Nest.  Each broadcast featured a pair of contestants who endeavored to “feather their nest” (i.e., acquire various domestic appliances and furnishings) by means of successful answers to quiz-questions. These were notionally posed by an animatronic “bird” who transited from branch to nest as a kind of countdown timer, pressuring the respondents to make their guesses briskly. The actress Janis Carter, who served as an assistant on the show, and handled the physical “feathers” that served as currency in the game, has long been thought to have been associated with a community of aesthetes operating in the museums of New York City in the mid-1950s. Be that as it may, I have come to suspect, on the basis of documentation I hope soon to publish, that a number of the Feather Your Nest broadcasts made use, surreptitiously, of “Test Pattern” interruptions that were structured to create mesmeric moments of immersive televisual attention — a kind of attention made “pure” via the dramatic attenuation of narrative or graphic “content.”  I believe I can show that a cohort of Birds, working playfully within the studio structure of NBC in those years, experimented with specific protocols geared for use on television Test Patterns.  Consider the attached sample as a suggestive instance.

We attach the video she sent along, which is indeed very striking.  More research is surely wanted in this area, and those having additional information are encouraged to convey it.

While Communiqués generally serves as a clearinghouse for specific attention-related research projects (announcing archival discoveries, reporting preliminary findings for larger works-in-progress, floating queries to the ESTAR[SER] research community), there is also some precedent for using this forum to share updates about ESTAR(SER) itself, as an association (its history, personnel, and doings).  In keeping with that tradition, we provide here a link to a recent PODCAST, produced by the Glasgow International.  In it, ESTAR(SER) associates Sal Randolph and D. Graham Burnett, both of whom have served on the board of the Milcom Memorial Reading Room and Attention Library, discuss how they have collaborated on several ESTAR(SER) undertakings over the last decade.