Metamodernism: Oscillation Revisited

Greg Dember
WiM on Med
Published in
14 min readFeb 26, 2023

This is a very lightly edited transcription of a presentation I recently gave at the Melbourne Metamodernism Conference, February 2–3, 2023.

Hello —

This will be a speculative and theoretical talk about oscillation. The ideas I’m sharing are a work in progress, so I’m equally happy whether you disagree with me or agree with me. Mainly I want to provoke a fresh and somewhat nuanced look at a term that is very much tied to the term “metamodern.” My talk is roughly broken into 2 parts. First I will situate oscillation in my understanding of the general phenomenon of metamodernism, and then I will propose some distinctions about what I see as different types of metamodern oscillation (or types of dynamics between modernist and postmodernist aesthetic dualities), and provide some examples from art and popular culture.

Part One: Situating Oscillation in Metamodernism Theory

So, most of you I’m sure are very familiar with this quote from Tim Vermeulen and Robin van den Akker’s seminal 2010 essay “Notes on Metamodernism.”

Here they are describing metamodern cultural products as having a dynamic that oscillates across polarities of modern vs. postmodern qualities. I certainly agree that what they have identified is a central aspect of metamodernism, but I want to use this paper to remind us all that there is more to understanding metamodernism beyond a simple understanding of oscillation, and then to also get more detailed about how metamodern oscillation works, as I see it.

Does metamodernism = oscillation? Exclusively?

Let’s start by looking at a few examples of how the term “oscillation” has come to be publicly associated with metamodernism, almost as if they are synonymous.

• If you’re familiar with the Vermeulen and van den Akker quote, you’re probably also familiar with Luke Turner’s 2011 Metamodernist Manifesto, which became well-known outside of academic circles because of Turner’s association with the actor Shia Laboeuf, in their work as a conceptual art team also including Nastja Säde Rönkkö.

The manifesto include 8 points, but it opens with a very grand statement about oscillation and closes with an exhortation to its readers that they should go forth and oscillate — whatever that means, exactly. Of course it has a somewhat tongue-in-cheek tone, while also taking itself seriously, which is indeed a metamodern combination. In any case, though, I think that this manifesto instructed many people in the world at large that metamodernism equals oscillation.

• Another example, in 2014: what I believe was the first academic conference on metamodernism, named itself “Oscillate.”

• And this 2021 article pulled together by British-Chess-Master-and-now philosopher Jonathan Rowson, is a partially-outsider’s perspective on metamodernism, juxtaposing the thoughts of multiple thinkers, including myself in fact, but the main chunk of thought is drawn from another article by philosopher Samuel Ledford, titled “Against Metamodernism” in which he attacks oscillation after largely equating it with metamodernism.

I think it is common for the term “oscillation” to spring to mind when people who know a bit about metamodernism think about it, but I’m not quite ready to tie the two notions together so tightly.

So, I went back to Tim and Robin’s original 2010 article to see how central the term oscillation was to it. I used a tool to get counts of concept words that occur 10 or more times in the 10,000 word article.

As you can see, “oscillation” and its variants occur 16 times in the essay. Significant, for sure, but lower down in the list than many others, such as postmodern, art, romanticism, irony and architecture. In my reading of that essay, oscillation is a metaphor the authors use to help describe the metamodern structure of feeling, but it is only one part of their account.

And, indeed, in the 2017 multi-author volume called Metamodernism, edited by Alison Gibbons along with Vermeulen and van den Akker, surely oscillation is a big part of the thinking of many of the included authors, but nevertheless, the volume’s subtitle emphasizes other terms: historicity, affect and depth.

In the way Gibbons, van den Akker and Vermeulen have conceptualized metamodernism, along with their affiliated authors, there is more to it than oscillation. Meanwhile, it is also important to emphasize that not all oscillations are metamodern.

To me, the oscillation in metamodernism involves a dynamic between opposing aesthetic sensibilities, not merely opposing beliefs, or other sorts of opposite pairs, like, say … chocolate and vanilla. I consider it a mistake when people construe the balancing of opposing political positions as metamodern. That’s really more of a postmodern multi-perspectivalism. Now, if you have an oscillation between that kind of non-committal multi-perspectival sensibility and a modernist enthusiastic sense of convicted certainty, THAT would be metamodern, in my book.

Why Metamodernism?

Now, it’s also important to note that regardless of how central oscillation is to metamodernism, that when we observe oscillation between modernist and postmodern polarities in metamodern culture, at best we are giving a what not a why. We are describing the texture of the metamodern sensibility but not offering an explanation for why postmodernism has receded and metamodernism has arisen to replace it, at least in part.

Some have explained the move to metamodernism as being motivated by changes in societal conditions: that with the combined crises in the financial system, climate change ramping up, the radicalization of our political discourse, etc., we can no longer “afford” to be entirely glib and ironic in our arts and culture — that there is a need to fold back in the the possibility of earnestness, enthusiasm and universalism that postmodernism shied away from. Others have credited internet culture for the rise in the metamodern sensibility. While I believe that both of those are part of it, I personally think that the best way to understand the rise of metamodernism is as a response in both artists and audiences to an exhaustion they feel with postmodernism’s negation of the self, and sometimes modernism’s atomizing of the self.

So, my formulation would be that the essence of metamodernism is a conscious or unconscious need to protect the solidity of felt experience against the scientific reductionism of the modernist perspective and the ironic detachment of the postmodern sensibility. And perhaps also to protect the sense of the interior self from the destabilizing effect of chaotic contemporary societal changes. In any case, as I see it, that need to protect the solidity of interior felt experience is the central way I understand metamodernism, and I locate oscillation as being just one possible method among many that metamodern artworks employ for doing so.

In other writing I’ve proposed eleven aesthetic methods that may be found in various combinations in metamodern artworks.

Oscillation is an important one, but not the only one.
Though I don’t have time in this talk to unpack all of these methods, if you’re interested I have an article online that goes into more detail.

Same Stuff, Different Explanations

Now, at this point, I want to take a moment and clarify that, while I may be suggesting a slightly different way of explaining the metamodern sensibility, I still see myself as talking about the same actual phenomena, as, say Vermeulen and van den Akker. I’m doing this:

Not this:

Some people do indeed define the term “metamodernism” in their own way and are using it to refer to things that are very different from what most of us, here, probably have in mind. But I’m not doing that. I’m starting with the same empirical observations and just theorizing about them differently — and only somewhat differently at that.

Part 2: Types of Metamodern Oscillation

From what I’ve said so far, you may have the impression that I’m here to diminish oscillation or “put it in its place,” but I will now show that that is not my purpose. In this section of the talk, I will give oscillation its due attention and nuance. I will suggest that there is more than one kind of metamodern oscillation, and I will offer a sort of taxonomy of four categories, each of which works in a different way. I have to give the disclaimer that I’m not fully happy with the labels that I’ve temporarily settled on, but they are what I’m working with at the moment. And to be more accurate, only the first two are actually oscillation. The other two — braiding and juxtaposition — are other dynamics in which modern and postmodern qualities relate, but they don’t actually involve the back-and-forth motion that the metaphor of oscillation suggests.

So let me start off by just naming them with very brief definitions, and then I’ll go into more detail and offer examples of each.

Hermeneutic Oscillation: This oscillation is not in any sort of movement within the object itself, but rather is in the audience’s response to the object. As the viewer swings to, say a postmodern pole in interpreting the object, the very logic of that reaction compels the viewer to swing back to a modernist pole, and then it reverses again and the cycle continues. Meanwhile, the object itself remains in the same place.

Structural Oscillation: This is perhaps what you might be most likely to envision with the metaphor of oscillation — that the artwork itself includes pieces from both sides of a duality and it switches back and forth between them in time.

Braiding: In this dynamic, you don’t have a switching through time, but rather you have a modernist thread and a postmodern thread, each running throughout the entire piece (usually a longer narrative work, like a film or a novel) and each relating to and influencing the other but also maintaining its own integrity. They don’t cancel each other out, or form a blend, but rather they coexist separately and exist in relation to each other.

Juxtaposition: You have modernist and postmodern elements existing in the same cultural artifact, but there’s no sense of movement between them and not even the kind of inter-relating between them that you would find in braiding.

Hermeneutic Oscillation (Example One)

If you think about it, if a painting involves oscillation, it kind of has to be hermeneutic oscillation, because paintings don’t move or change across time. It would be the viewer’s response that changes as they register the painting and seek to interpret it. As an example of this dynamic, I will share my oscillating responses to this oil painting by Mathew Grabelsky, called “Hello Kitten.”

MATTHEW GRABELSKY, “Hello Kitten” (2019), Oil on Canvas, 16x20 in.

My first reaction is to marvel over the fact that it IS a painting, and not simply a digitally altered photo… but then I realize “wait, I’m marveling over the photo-realism of this painted image that is not realistic at all, in terms of what it is portraying.”

Meanwhile, the cats are cute, and it makes me think about the permission I have to project my “male gaze” onto the faces of cats/kittens in a way that I would fear would be creepy with a human woman, especially one who is in a maternal role. And then I think “no, I’m overthinking this, it’s just a visual joke on Hello Kitty.” And then I think about the title “Hello, Kitten” and how the difference between that and “Hello, Kitty” evokes something more real and personal… like when you say “Hello, Kitten” suddenly it’s like you’re talking about one, real specific ANIMAL BEING, not just the abstraction that “Hello Kitty” evokes.

Meanwhile, what is going on with the man appearing in the window behind them? Is his image something that in real-life would appear that way, or is it an intentionally off “uncanny valley” kind of thing. And… is it meant to be a person looking IN from the outside, or is it the reflection of a man sitting on a bench directly across from the Catwoman and her kitten? And if it’s a man sitting directly across… IS IT ME????? Does he represent me, in the way I’m experiencing the painting, and in the way I’m sort of intruding on these people’s lives.

PEOPLE? They’re CATS. And this is just a painting! A PAINTING? It sure looks like a photoshopped photograph to me! But no, I’m told that it’s an oil painting. And on and on…

Is the point of this painting to encourage me to reflect, like a postmodernist, on the deception inherent in all visual reproduction? Or is it a satisfyingly evocation of simple cuteness? Is it merely “cute” or is it partially and covertly sexual? Or is it a commentary on the ambiguity of such categories. Or is it an artistically ambitious, optimistic exhibition of technical ability (remember, it IS an oil painting). These oscillations between postmodern and modernist responses ultimately leave me with no choice but to simply revel in the intricate weirdness of being a feeling human being in 2023.

Hermeneutic Oscillation (Example Two)

I will give another example of hermeneutic oscillation, this time in music. The song, by Jonathan Richman, is from 1978, about 20 years prior to when we normally periodize metamodernism, but it’s such a good example, and I will include it as “proto-metamodern.” I’ll share a verse and a chorus.

“Affection” by Jonathan Richman

The remarkable thing about this song is that it is so over the top in its earnestness, that you have to take it with at least some degree of irony or sarcasm. He has to be poking fun at himself and mocking the idea that anybody would sing about “affection” in this way. And yet… if you suspend disbelief and take the song at face value, it’s a poignant little gem that perfectly and compassionately sums up the kind of private inner experiences that many people have but rarely talk about. But then you remember that the guy is singing a song called “Affection” and you go back to thinking it must be a joke. And, it being a joke, and you being in on that joke, makes you feel less embarrassed to be earnestly moved by what he was singing about. This endless oscillation between sarcasm and vulnerability ultimately flips the listener into a mindstate beyond the paradox, where it can be cool to be sentimental, and meaningful to be ironic.

Structural Oscillation
Bringing things back to the contemporary, this is a clip from a 2021 Billie Eilish song called “Happier than Ever” that I think exemplifies what I’m calling Structural Oscillation. As distinct from the Jonathan Richman song, this song’s oscillation happens in the artwork itself, not only in the viewer’s reaction. So you’ll see a switch from an almost childlike, sweet tone with chimes and acoustic guitar; a sympathetic attitude; and warm tones in the video itself … to a raging, disruptive aggro tone evocative of the postmodern 90s grunge sound.

“Happier than Ever” by Billie Eilish

The oscillation between tones allows for the expression of the fullness of the singer’s interiority, not being limited by the doctrine imposed by either one of them alone. In a postmodern version, their opposition might cancel each other out, each undermining the emotional reality of the other, but in this metamodern version they add together.

Braiding

Miranda July’s 2005 film, Me and You and Everyone we Know, which she wrote, directed and stars in, provides my example of metamodern braiding. The narrative is built around the efforts of a young-ish woman named Christine to establish herself in the art world and to find a fulfilling romantic relationship.

Still from Miranda July’s Me and You and Everyone We Know (2005)

It’s really two narratives though. One is a disruptive, postmodern story in which characters do outrageous things like intentionally burn their own arm, involve themselves in inappropriate relationships with under-age people, and careless allow goldfish to die.

The other story is a sweet, modernist story of people learning about themselves and learning how to connect with each other.

Both stories involve the same characters and each runs as a through line throughout the entire film, wrapped around each other, but separate, influencing each other but neither subsuming the other. Each narrative serves to protect the other from the distaste of viewers who are not on board with one aesthetic paradigm or the other. Snarky, postmodern viewers who would potentially dismiss the uplifting version of the film as sickly-sweet are reassured by the inclusion of transgressive elements that the film-maker is “cool” and has a nuanced, sophisticated take on things. Other viewers who would be repulsed by the shocking elements are (or may be) ultimately comforted by the happy ending. Often, of course, the same viewer will be engaging with the film with both paradigms at the same time, and this may be the audience that a metamodern film like this best serves: people who are beyond the innocence of modernist, positivistic approaches to film, but have found themselves unsatisfied with the nihilist emptiness that postmodernism often ends in.

Juxtaposition

My last example, this time to show metamodern juxtaposition, also helps remind us that not everything metamodern is going to be something we like or approve of.

Pepe the Frog is a joking symbol that has been adopted by The American Alt-Right movement, which distinguishes itself from the conventional Right Wing by adding a playful sense of irony to the earlier generation’s dry, stuffy conservatism. However, side-by-side with this irony is still a very serious mission to restore what they consider the rightful place of the Christian White Male at the top of society. When I say “serious” I mean both that it is serious to the people it harms and also serious to its adherents. As offensive as they seem to those who oppose them — myself included — they feel they are on a supremely important mission. And yet, having inherited a sense of “cringe” from postmodernism, they NEED the irony part as much as the mission. As reactionary terrorists who also happen to have a metamodern sensibility… they can have both, which allows them to feel more like their true selves. And just returning to my point about the categories of modern/postmodern dynamics, I put this example in the simple juxtaposition category because there is no complicated oscillation or braiding going on here. Just a “both things together.”

I’d rather not end my talk on that image, so I’m closing with a scene from a Wes Anderson film, just to change the tone. I hope some of my thoughts here were helpful. Thank you.

Still image from Wes Anderson’s The French Dispatch (2021)

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Greg Dember
WiM on Med

Human-centric ontological adventures! (a little bit of heart, a little bit of brain) (topics will vary) gregdember.com