![22
shall we go?” – trying to check his insecurity with
politeness. I explain to him that I want to meet
people who have left the Orthodox community for
secular society, people who have gone through an
inner migration, an extreme migration, being rad-
ically cut off from the lives they had known until
the moment they entered a world they knew little
to nothing about. Rafi nods and glides through the
small, dirty alleys surrounding the Carmel Market
with its somewhat oriental feel. “I love this city,”
he suddenly blurts out, widening his arms as if to
embrace it. In Café Basta in Ha’Schomer Street, he
greets the other guests with a handshake, young
people. He likes to come here, he says, “totally
unkosher, pork and all that stuff”. Here, in this
café, everyone knows him and knows his personal
history. “They take me as I am,” he proudly asserts.
Heintroducesmetotheotherswithgrandgestures.
They give a quick nod and turn back to their tables,
signaling their lack of interest, as if my presence
were something better overlooked. Is my desire to
talk to them strange, even absurd, in their eyes? Or
do they perhaps have ulterior motives? Rafi orders
himself an Arak and, without asking, a coffee for
me. “Do you want something to eat? The food here
is fantastic! FANTASTIC!”
Rafi is a computer scientist at an IT firm. His wife
is a teacher, and they have six children and one
grandson. He met his wife at the age of 5 in the
sandpit. She was 4. They have been a couple since
then. It is standard practice that a matchmaker,
working on behalf of one of the couple’s families,
finds a bride or groom, to keep the young people
from making a mistake. After all, divorce is not
desirable and very uncommon, not to mention a
great disadvantage for the woman, since Rabbis
tend to rule in favor of the man. It’s the matchmak-
er’s responsibility to bring two people together,
who suit each other, though more often matches
are made in the interest of the family: an excellent
bride or groom is a status symbol and, ultimately,
the match is about money. Rafi grows furious as he
explains, “The couple is only allowed to see each
other one, two, maybe five times before they’re
married. Once they’re engaged, they’re assigned a
mentor, a madrich, who is supposed to tell them all
the secrets of marriage, even the marriage bed. If
things aren’t working out, they’re supposed to call
and ask him what to do.”
Rafi says he hasn’t believed in God since he was a
child. When he turned 30, he made his decision, but
was consumed by fear and sadness that everything
he had learned until then had suddenly become
useless. “Not guilt, no,” he describes, thinking
back, “No, not guilt, but a lot of regret.” He fought
with his wife for 6 years and, in all that time, she
never stopped hoping he would come back, while
he wished she would be willing to make this
momentous step to enter secular society with him,
to move to Tel Aviv and live a normal life. A normal
life – that’s what he called it even then. But then
he realized the hopelessness of their battle and
they gave up. “It was a very difficult time, but we
made it through,” he recalls. Rafi feels compelled,
however, to lead a double life, to go into “inner emi-
gration”. “I had to convince [my wife] that I was
staying out of love for her. She had always thought
I had another woman in Tel Aviv, but why would I
have stayed, if not out of my great love for her?”
Suddenly in a dark mood, Rafi gazes through the
window and orders another Arak. I begin to feel](https://image.slidesharecdn.com/25555416-250514072653-d3954219/85/Transdiscourse-2-Turbulence-And-Reconstruction-Jill-Scott-Editor-24-320.jpg)
![33
Teresa
Chen
that the fictitious Guatinaui identities were real
(Fusco 1994). Gómez-Peña had discovered a provoc-
ative strategy through his parody of ethnographic
display methods in a performance which he con-
tinued to use for many of his next major perfor-
mance works.
Gómez-Peña’s next important project was the
participatory performance, installation and exhi-
bition The Temple of Confessions (1994-1996),
which he produced in collaboration with Roberto
Sifuentes. According to Gómez-Peña, they re-en-
acted the narrative of “two living santos [saints]
from an unknown border religion, in search of
sanctuary across America. People were invited
to experience this ‘pagan temple’ and confess to
the saints their intercultural fears and desires”
(Gómez-Peña 2000, p. 35). The installation had
three separate areas: the Chapel of Desires, the
Chapel of Fears and a “sort of mortuary chamber in
the middle.” In the Chapel of Desires, Sifuentes sat
in a Plexiglas box posing as a “holy gang member,”
the “El Pre-Columbian Vato” (5). His arms and face
were covered with pre-Columbian tattoos and he
wore a bloodstained shirt and he held a gun that
he occasionally cleaned with an American flag
(see Fig. 2). Behind him was a Styrofoam facade
of a “pre-Columbian temple” with a neon sign dis-
playing: “We incarnate your desires.” Opposite the
Chapel of Desires was another Plexiglas box, the
Chapel of Fears, where Gómez-Peña sat on a toilet
bowl or in a wheelchair dressed in a “Tex-Mex
Aztec outfit” as a futuristic shaman, “San Pocho
Aztlaneca”(6), under a neon sign that read: “We
incarnate your fears.” Two “chola/nuns”, one preg-
nant and the other dressed as “dominatrix/nun”
with a moustache and goatee, performed the role
of care-takers and encouraged visitors to “con-
fess”. Wooden church kneelers and microphones
were located in front of the Plexiglas boxes with
the “santos” for recording the viewer confessions
about their intercultural fears and desires. Those
Fig. 1: The Couple in a Cage: Undiscovered Amerindians by
Guillermo Gómez-Peña and Coco Fusco, 1992-93.
Guillermo Gómez-Peña and Coco Fusco at the Smithsonian
Courtesy Pocha Nostra Archives.
Fig. 2: The Temple of Confessions by Guillermo Gómez-Peña
and Roberto Sifuentes, 1994-96.
Roberto Sifuentes in The Temple of Confessions
Courtesy Pocha Nostra Archives.](https://image.slidesharecdn.com/25555416-250514072653-d3954219/85/Transdiscourse-2-Turbulence-And-Reconstruction-Jill-Scott-Editor-35-320.jpg)
![48
In The Overexposed City, Virilio describes an
“aesthetics of the disappearance,” in which we
experience space primarily through time-based
media images, rather than corporeal reality. For
example, TV news has come to create our spa-
tial understanding of ‘the world’, rather than our
actual travels or other first-hand experiences.
He suggests that transmutation of representa-
tions has taken place From the aesthetics of
the appearance of stable images, present pre-
cisely because of their static nature, to the aes-
thetics of the disappearance of unstable images,
present because of their motion (cinematic, cine-
magraphic). (Virilio 1984) What does Virilio mean
by this transmutation, and why is it ‘cinematic’? To
answer this question, I will consider the language
and imagery of his essay in detail. Virilio begins
with an account of the technologisation of the city
in order to increase its security. The example he
gives lists surveillance: counter-terrorist mea-
sures, such as CCTV and “the sudden proliferation
of cameras, radar and detectors at mandatory pas-
sageways” (Virilio 1984). Virilio suggests that the
movie camera is the ultimate form for these sys-
tems. He writes, “The camera has become our best
inspector,” John F. Kennedy declared a short while
before he was killed on a street in Dallas. Actually,
the camera allows us to participate in – live on tape
or computer – certain political events and optical
phenomenon. For example, the phenomenon of
breaking into effraction, in which the city lets
itself be seen through surveillance, and the phe-
nomena of breaking apart diffraction, in which
its image is reflected beyond the atmosphere to
the ends of space. This overexposure attracts our
attention. [Emphasis in the original] (Virilio 1984)
The terms diffraction, effraction and overexposure
introduce key features of derealisation. Diffrac-
tion refers to a specific optical event, the apparent
bending of light as it passes through small aper-
tures. This can cause a single ray of light to appear
to radiate in a circular pattern. Effraction literally
means “a breaking into a house, store, etc., by
force; forcible entry”, in the sense of a burglary,
it also suggests the permeability of an object to
light, but in the opposite direction: light breaks
in, rather than out (1). This disrupts boundaries,
and the criminal connotations of this are impor-
tant to the understanding of a further key term,
overexposure:
Replacing the old distinctions between public
and private or ‘habitation’ and ‘circulation’
is an ‘overexposure’ because the gap between
‘near’ and ‘far’ ceases to exist, in the same
way that the gap between ‘micro’ and ‘macro’
can disappear through the lens of a scanning
electron microscope.
(Virilio 1984)
For Virilio, the collapse of public and private can
be understood as what happens when the private is
exposed to the public; habitation violated by circu-
lation. What is striking about Virilio’s description
is that the transparency or permeability that dif-
fraction and effraction create is aligned with crime
or violation. The camera, as a machine that medi-
ates light, is therefore a means to that end. Is film
then a crime?](https://image.slidesharecdn.com/25555416-250514072653-d3954219/85/Transdiscourse-2-Turbulence-And-Reconstruction-Jill-Scott-Editor-50-320.jpg)
![50
sections – such as a flock of birds that fly across
the scene – reinforce this sense of cohesion. Like
Las Vegas, to which Virlio alludes, Xanadu com-
presses multiple iconic architectural and land-
scape features into a synthetic whole.
The work extends the confines of the traditional
rectangular frame of cinema into the space of the
gallery, through the mirrored ellipse at the lower
edge of the projection. The mirror uses reflection
to stretch the space of the screen and in a Virilian
sense, re-models the space through light. This is
also the function of cinema, where artificial spa-
tial effects are created through projected light-
based images. In Xanadu I do not supersede the
physical space as completely as Virilio suggests
the constructs of Hollywood and Cinecittà do, but
it does suggest that:
The city of living cinema where sets and
reality, cadastral urban planning and cine-
matic footage planning […] merge to the point
of delirium.
(Virilio 1984)
However, as this performative perceptual dereal-
isation suggests, it is important to consider the
simultaneous ethical derealisation that he identi-
fies in a discussion of Hollywood:
Here, more than anywhere, advanced tech-
nologies have converged to create a synthetic
space-time. The Babylon of film ‘dereali-
sation,’ the industrial zone of pretence,
Hollywood built itself up neighbourhood by
neighbourhood, avenue by avenue, upon
the twilight of appearance, the success of
Fig 1 and 2. Xanadu: an Experimenta Festival Commission, Melbourne, 2010 by Kit Wise HD single channel video, 5’50”.
Japan and Italy, found digital images and digital video from Getty Images.](https://image.slidesharecdn.com/25555416-250514072653-d3954219/85/Transdiscourse-2-Turbulence-And-Reconstruction-Jill-Scott-Editor-52-320.jpg)
![identified with the preservation of the lives of tens of thousands of
foundlings; while that of a simple miniature painter is for ever linked
with the history of practical “Benevolence.” The list might include
nearly the whole of the charities of London, which, from similar small
sources, have become mighty waters—spreading, healing, fertilizing,
and blessing!
The absence of a hospital for the relief and cure of consumptive
patients, was a national reproach; when, happily, exertions which
followed the efforts of a single individual removed it. He was without
rank or fortune to give weight and strength to the cause he had
undertaken; he was a member of a profession which necessarily
occupied much time and thought—entailed daily labour from morn till
night—and is, indeed, supposed, however falsely, to check and chill
the sympathies of the natural heart, engendering indifference to
human suffering. Most happily, his mind and heart were both rightly
directed: in him the conviction of what ought to be was followed by a
resolution that it should be; his generous and merciful feelings were
not limited to good intentions: he added energy to zeal, and industry
to stern resolve; and, in a word, the mighty object has been
accomplished. [26a]
The Institution, which originated at a small
meeting, in a comparatively humble house in “Hans-place, Chelsea,”
is now the patronized of the Queen, and the aided of the people; and
its power to do good has been marvellously augmented. Even with
the very limited means hitherto at the command of its Directors,
prodigious service has been rendered; in numerous instances, vast
relief has been afforded; in some cases restorations to health have
been effected, and, in others, the passage to the grave has been
made easy, tranquil, and happy. [26b]
And surely this latter consideration is one of very vital importance.
Not only is the chaplain of the Institution aided earnestly by the
matron and other excellent ladies, who read and pray, and soothe
and comfort the fainting and struggling spirit; but no distinction of
creeds is here made—where death is so often busied in levelling all
distinctions; a clergyman of the Roman Catholic faith, and ministers
of all Christian societies and sects, are gladly admitted whenever](https://image.slidesharecdn.com/25555416-250514072653-d3954219/85/Transdiscourse-2-Turbulence-And-Reconstruction-Jill-Scott-Editor-62-320.jpg)
![members of their congregations require spiritual comfort and aid.
[27a]
Who is there, then, with mind and heart influenced by religion,
who will not rejoice at opportunities of soothing a dying-bed—
removing misery, alleviating pain, and averting want, while preparing
for a change of time for eternity? The yet limited chronicles of this
infant Institution record many touching instances of courage,
encouragement, hope, and salvation, obtained there, while passing
through the valley of the shadow of death. The fatal disease gives
abundant time for such consolations and such results; the tyrant
advances slowly; the issue has been long foreseen; there is no need
to hurry or confuse; divine grace may be infused surely—the mists of
unbelief being gradually dispelled; bright and cheering gospel truths
may be learned, one by one, until the last sigh wafts the soul into the
haven “prepared by the blood of the Lamb.”
But temporal, as well as eternal good, has been already achieved by
this Institution. Several of its inmates have been discharged, fitted to
become useful members of society; strengthened in constitution as
well as spiritually enlightened; beneficially changed, in all respects,
by a temporary residence in this blessed Asylum. I have seen, not
one or two, but several, pale faces return, after a sojourn in the
Hospital, to thank me for “my letter,” with the hues of health upon
their cheeks, and able to bless the Institution, without pausing to
breathe between the breaks in every sentence.
There is, however, a consideration connected with the subject which
presses sorely on the mind of every inhabitant of these islands—rich
as well as poor—for no station in exempt from the influence of the
subtle disease; no blood, however ancient and pure, can repel it;
exemption from its attacks cannot be purchased by any excess of
wealth; caution can do little to avert it; its advances are perceived
afar off without a prospect of escape; it seems, indeed, the terrible
vanquisher against whom it is idle to fight. [27b]
Surely, then, ALL are interested—deeply interested—in helping the
only plan by which the disease may be so studied as to secure a
remedy. It is foolish to speak of it as INCURABLE; the term signifies](https://image.slidesharecdn.com/25555416-250514072653-d3954219/85/Transdiscourse-2-Turbulence-And-Reconstruction-Jill-Scott-Editor-63-320.jpg)
![Footnotes.
[6] This was the third botanic garden, established about the year
1673, in England. In a very old manuscript the spot is thus quaintly
described:—“Chelsea physic garden has great variety of plants, both
in and out of green-houses; their perennial green hedges, and rows
of different coloured herbs, are very pretty, and so are the banks set
with shades of herbs in the Irish style.” The drawing Mr. Fairholt was
so good as to make for this little book, gives a faithful representation
of the statue of Sir Hans Sloane, by Rysbach, the two famous cedars,
and the water-gate; and as this time-honoured garden is about to be
converted into “a square of houses,” I am glad of the opportunity to
preserve a memorial of it. It is not only sacred to science, but full of
pleasant memories: Evelyn has sate beneath those cedars; Sir Joseph
Banks used to delight in measuring them, and proving to his friends
that the girth of the larger “exceeded twelve feet eleven inches;” and
it is said that, when Dean Swift lodged at Chelsea, he was often to be
found in this “physic garden.” When we call to mind the number of
persons of note who selected the “sweet village of Chelsea” as a
residence, there can he no lack of associations for this spot.
Between the garden and the college is the place (according to
Maitland) where Cæsar crossed the Thames.
[26a] Philip Rose, Esq., the Hon. Sec. and Founder of the Institution.
[26b] Independent of advantages afforded within the present
Hospital, application for orders to obtain “out of door” advice and
medicine have been very numerous; and they have not unfrequently
been made by persons far superior to those who are supposed (but
most erroneously) to be the only recipients of charitable aid. I](https://image.slidesharecdn.com/25555416-250514072653-d3954219/85/Transdiscourse-2-Turbulence-And-Reconstruction-Jill-Scott-Editor-66-320.jpg)
![entreat the reader’s indulgence while I briefly relate one circumstance
within my own knowledge. A few months ago, a lady (for poverty is
no destroyer of birth-rights) requested from me a ticket for an out-
door patient; and, in answer to my inquiries, at length, with
trembling lips and streaming eyes, confessed it was for her husband
she needed it. She had made what is called a love-match; her family
refused to do anything to alleviate the poverty which followed his
misfortunes, unless she forsook her husband; her knowledge of the
most sacred duty of woman’s life, and, indeed, I believe, poor thing,
her enduring love, prevented her having the great sin to answer for,
of abandoning him in his distress; and her skill in drawing and
embroidery enabled her to support her sick husband and herself. “I
can do that,” she said, “and procure him even little luxuries, if I have
not a doctor’s bill to pay; but the medicines are so expensive, that he
will be comfortless unless we can receive aid from this Institution; I
have paid, during the last two weeks, twelve shillings for medicine.”
His case was utterly and entirely without hope, but, as she told me
afterwards, no words could express the alleviation to his sufferings,
mental and physical, which followed the assistance he obtained at the
Hospital.
[27a] “To provide him with an Asylum, to surround him with the
comforts of which he stands so much in need, to ensure him relief
from the sufferings entailed by his disease, to afford him spiritual
consolation, at a period when the mind is, perhaps, best adapted to
receive, with benefit, the divine truths of religion, and to enable
those who depend upon him to earn their own subsistence, are the
great objects of this new Hospital.”—Appeal of the Committee.
[27b] “To all who have either felt the power of the destroyer, or who
have reason to fear his attack—and what family throughout the
country has not had sad experience of his presence?—an earnest
appeal is now made, in the full assurance that those who give their
support to this Institution will aid in materially lessening the amount
of misery.”—Appeal of the Committee.](https://image.slidesharecdn.com/25555416-250514072653-d3954219/85/Transdiscourse-2-Turbulence-And-Reconstruction-Jill-Scott-Editor-67-320.jpg)
Transdiscourse 2 Turbulence And Reconstruction Jill Scott Editor
- 1. Transdiscourse 2 Turbulence And Reconstruction Jill Scott Editor download https://ebookbell.com/product/transdiscourse-2-turbulence-and- reconstruction-jill-scott-editor-51110832 Explore and download more ebooks at ebookbell.com
- 2. Here are some recommended products that we believe you will be interested in. You can click the link to download. Transdiscourse 1 Mediated Environments Andrea Gleiniger Angelika Hilbeck https://ebookbell.com/product/transdiscourse-1-mediated-environments- andrea-gleiniger-angelika-hilbeck-4293554
- 3. Edited by Jill Scott Transdiscourse 2 Turbulence and Reconstruction Cultural Studies: An anthology of viewpoints on society from the arts and the sciences
- 4. 5 Foreword Sigrid Schade 7 INTRODUCTION TO TURBULENCE AND RECONSTRUCTION Jill Scott ART AND SOCIETY 15 The Big Gap Johanna Lier / With Photos by Nurit Sharett 29 Identifying and Categorizing: Power, Knowledge, Truth and the Artistic Strategies of Guillermo Gómez-Peña and Fiona Tan Teresa Chen 47 Derealisation, Cinema and the Turbulence of Information Kit Wise 59 Imaging the Norm Ellen K. Levy 75 GALLERY A TURBULENCE curated by Susanne N. Hillman Dawn DeDeaux, Ziad Zitoun and George Osodi DESIGN AND ECOLOGY 91 Subsistence farming — the Survival Strategy Angelika Hilbeck and Herbert Hilbeck 107 Uncertainty, Utopia, and our Contested Future Patrick Moriarty and Damon Honnery
- 5. 121 Redesigning Nature: Situating Art and Ecology Christoph Kueffer and Jill Scott 139 TURBULENT SOCIETIES, THE CHALLENGES OF DIGITAL CONTEMPORARY ARCHITECTURE Jan Słyk 157 GALLERY B Interrogating the sublime: reconstructions curated by Anna Achtelik Tamiko Tiel, Josephine Starrs and Leon Cmielewski, Eugenio Tisselli and Juanita Schlaepfer-Miller TECHNOLOGY AND SOCIETY 169 Resilient Society Agnieszka Jelewska 185 EMPATHETIC THINGS Juergen Moritz 201 Paranoia at Play: The Darkest Puzzle and the Elegant Turbulence of Alternate Reality Games Hugh Davies and Vince Dziekan 217 Alternative Visions: Human Futures Boris Magrini BIOGRAPHIES 233 Authors
- 7. 5 FOREWORD Sigrid Schade Transdiscourse is a series of books that represent the outcome of reflections and works of artists, PhD students and scientists crossing the borders of science and art within the broader field of cultural studies. The diverse aspects of such questioning and procedures have been at the core of the PhD- program z-node, directed by Jill Scott, which the Institute for Cultural Studies in the Arts has hosted over the last twelve years. Transdiscourse is the appropriate term for such a quest since it signifies a crossing of the borders of limitations, regulated and regulating the very discourses, which according to the French author and historian Michel Foucault are the medial and material “substance” of all knowledge, in the daily life of societies as well as in the sciences and the arts. These discourses are deeply inter- twined with the institutions in which they are (re)produced and at the same time (re)construct those institutions. The second Volume of Transdiscourse, with the title Turbulence and Reconstruction, shifts topics which had been featured in the first Volume, Mediated Environments, towards an even more complex field of questioning in which approaches of artists, scientists, sociologists and cultural studies intertwine. Since a dominant part of the power of discourses is their interest in (re)producing their power itself, we definitely need turbulences to transgress the borders and the frames of the discourses of knowledge pro- duction in order to address the main political issues of today. Our specific profile at the Institute for Cultural Studies in the Arts invites investigations into environments and frames of acting, in forms of communication and representation, within socie- ties’ constant levels of changes and networks. Our society continues to be confronted with migrations of people forced away from their homes by markets or wars, climate change and the need for sustain- ability and biodiversity and questions of survival of humans: their societies and cultures. The second volume of Transdiscourse contains con- tributions from former z-node PhD students, col- leagues with whom we met at a visiting scholars’ project at Monash University in Melbourne Aus- tralia in 2011, and other academics and artists who directly address the topics we have been working on. I would like to express my gratitude to the editor and my colleague Jill Scott as well as to all other contributors to Transdiscourse II, without whose devotion and engagement, the book could not have been published. Sigrid Schade Head: Institute of Cultural Studies in the Arts, Zürich University of the Arts.
- 9. 7 INTRODUCTION TO TURBULENCE AND RECONSTRUCTION Jill Scott This book had two inspirations: one was my co- edited book, “Mediated Environments” (2012), the first volume in the Transdiscourse 1 series of which this is the second volume (1). The other was a visiting scholars project I organized in 2011, for my PhD students (from z-node in Zurich) to my own old school – Monash University in Mel- bourne, Australia. Although Transdiscourse 1 was devoted to the relationship between the media and environmental problems; the interplay between turbulence and reconstruction was the direction that occurred to me for Transdiscourse 2 when I revisited Monash University. In the late 1960s and 1970s, Monash University was the Australian equivalent of the Berkeley campus of the Univer- sity of California, and my attendance then at the Caulfield campus of Monash not only alerted me – then a wide-eyed art student – to the necessity of confronting the Vietnam War, but provided expo- sure to broader discussions of the means and ends of replacing capitalism with more humane eco- nomic and value-oriented systems (2). Radical and often imaginative approaches to social problems were debated during this turbu- lent era. These passionate if sometimes naïve or idealistic discussions influenced me deeply. They helped set the intellectual course I have pursued over the intervening decades. I remain committed to some socialist goals – perhaps most simply defined here as a more equitable distribution of wealth and health – and to ecological practices that would bring us into greater harmony with our global allies and with a planet suffering under our stewardship. Our understandings of the interre- latedness and complexity of our social concerns – whether categorized as media, art or science – have rapidly accelerated. They affect our approaches to pretty much everything we call human civiliza- tion: agriculture, urban planning, energy produc- tion and political relations to name just a few. The rapid expansion of our own species is the single constant in an era marked by an increase in ecolog- ical novelty from climate change and also the clash of the virtual and the embodied, at a time when the ultimate in embodiment, the genetic redesign of species including our own, coexists with the post- human ideals of disembodiment inherent in the virtual realms of media and technology. I evoke the concepts of turbulence and reconstruc- tion partly to problematize them, to save them from the overly simplistic meanings often imposed on them. Although turbulence has often been seen as a negative condition, some indispensible ideas have arisen from this state of emotion, for example, consider the status of women from the female Suffragette movements in the early 1900s or the relatively recent Occupy Wall Street movements that disrupted “business as usual”, both of which intended to shake up social norms. Construction, however benefits from a more positive reputation or connotation, which is not always deserved. For instance, solutions are sometimes proffered for
- 10. 8 problems and characterized as rebuilding a society or restoring some feature of the natural environ- ment in a very superficial way. It is then that the backward looking character of the term’s prefix, “re”, becomes apparent. When the term is used as a synonym for building or construction, one must consider whether the retroactive “re” might be seen as a means of conferring dubious historical prestige, or an unfortunate set of developments that can produce chaos or violence, as with the so-called Cultural Revolution in China. Throughout these essays, the reader will find an uncharacteristically complex, less dualistic pic- ture of the relationship between turbulence and construction, cause and effect. The “and” between the paired terms that comprise the titles of the three sections of the book – art and society, design and ecology and technology and society – are sim- ilarly intended to give pause, to invite reflection on these hybrid perspectives from the arts and the sciences in our current world where disorder often overflows into the world of order. All the authors in this book were invited to write the new works that have been anthologized in this volume, because of their shared social concerns. Each believes in the potential of the arts and the sciences to raise public awareness about sustain- able futures, unpredictable outcomes and new approaches. Like me, most of them were radical- izedbytheirinterestinrepresentationofandoppo- sition to the current Neo-Imperialist adventures of our present global system. All have watched the regimes of both Eastern and Western coun- tries ignore the idealism embodied in the United Nations Charter as well as related international conventions and laws. Instead, they have wit- nessed the denial of certain rights of individuals, the manipulation of fears of ethnic and religious groups toward one another, and the establish- ment of an order that regards the privations (and privacy) of non-elites as merely collateral damage en route to the new globalism. All the writers in this book should be considered as theorists who are concerned about this direction, theory being, fundamentally, an act of imagination, of revising or re-envisioning the world. Some, are artists con- ducting research that extends beyond the reach of their own disciplines to those of science and engineering, a practice of exploding the conven- tional boundaries of visual art that dates back to conceptual art. Others are scientists whose ideolo- gies have emerged from those of the late 60s and allowed them to extend their gaze into the human- ities. Sustainability, diversity and resilience are the current terms on every one’s lips. Transdiscourse 2 consists of 12 original essays and two gallery inserts produced by eighteen tal- ented contributors. I am extremely grateful to them for their efforts and for working alongside Anna Trzska and I, to revise and develop their theoretical concepts. Let me now introduce them to explore the character of the book and the pro- posals, analyses and debates therein. Turbulence and Reconstruction is divided into 3 broadly thematic sections: “Art and Society”, “Design and Ecology”, and “Technology and Society”. In the Art and Society section each contrib- utor is an artist who addresses the nature of iden- tity, taxonomy and representation – post-modern
- 11. 9 Introduction to Turbulence and Reconstruction concerns that have dominated art since the 1980s. Johanna Lier is a Swiss writer and journalist who ventured with a photographer, Nurit Sharett, to document the demographic imbalances of tradi- tionalism and modernism in Israel. Teresa Chen is a Chinese-American Swiss photographer who works with representations and post-colonial discourse and Kit Wise references Paul Virilio to conduct his own analysis of the Overexposed City. Finally, Ellen K. Levy is an artist from the USA whose interest in the subject of attention has taken her into the realm of neuropsychology. These are anthropological, sociological and psy- chological concerns that carry stories about dis- placement, migration and mental health. As Arnd Schneider posits, instead of thinking of two sep- arate fields: one being the investigatory field of science and the other being the passive object of research (art) both should be seen “as endeav- ours of knowledge production involved in setting experimental research agendas which can enter into a fruitful dialogue” (3). Inspired by her dialogues with people about changing religious lifestyles and her grand- mothers “inner migration” from a Jewish com- munity in Ukraine to Switzerland, Johanna Lier examines the process of reconstructing a life in a diverse society through both words (interviews she’s conducted) and images by her collaborator Nurit Sharett. In this situation the individual must necessarily adopt new rules and regula- tions, yet also negotiate the customs, conventions and degree of conformity that are comfortable or possible in a new locale. “Outsiderdom” offers a more detached and distanced perspective ena- bling reconstruction as well as the possibilities for turbulence in the form of alienation and isola- tion. She learns that the sharing of similar prob- lems might help to overcome these boundaries. Teresa Chen investigates the strategies of two art- ists who have migrated from their homelands to their long-time residencies abroad – Guillermo Gómez-Peña’s in San Francisco from his native Mexico, and Fiona Tan’s in Amsterdam from Indo- nesia and Australia. Both reflect the author’s experiences racially – as a Chinese-American who investigates Eurocentric anthropological dis- courses and their relevance to the work of these artists. Unlike the alienated subjects Lier dis- cusses, performance artist Gómez-Peña revels in the outsider status that validates his construc- tion of over-the-top, stereotypic “characters” that revealandridiculethestatusquo.Ifeveranacerbic and amusing solo voice has shaken things up, it is Gómez-Peña’s. Tan, too, is interested in lost ances- tors and the representational depredations of colo- nialism, but her work is more related to family ties than the work of Gómez-Peña. Working in film and installation, her artworks of the past decade have grown increasingly narrative, employing scripts, voice-overs and professional actors. Her work is also a strategy to question the status quo of neo- liberal classification. Similarly in his concern for more “real” relation- ships though cinema, theorist Kit Wise provides us with an overview of Paul Virilio’s notion of dere- alisation and applies it to artworks that address the surveillance and post modern appropiation of cities and city life. He is interested in how the rem- nants of information itself can expose colonialism and racism, and cites artists like Jordan Baseman
- 12. 10 and curators like Okwui Enwezor, as examples. His notion of the ‘remnant’ lies between the familiar (near) and the unfamiliar (far) forms of informa- tion. It is a kind of turbulence that might lead to interesting revelations, providing we give it the attention it deserves! In the next essay, Ellen K. Levy is an artist fasci- nated by “attention” as a subject in itself. Consid- ered to be a “very chaotic and turbulent syndrome” the diagnosis of Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder or ADHD and the representations accom- panying this diagnostic category constitute the subject of her article. The medicalization of eve- rything the pharmaceutical industry can appro- priate is called into question as is the sometimes tragic unreliability of these categories and des- ignations. “What is normal childhood develop- ment?” Levy asks in reference to definitions of ADHD characterized largely by their opposition to dubious “norms”. She looks closely not only at the diagnostic criteria attached to ADHD but to the drawings that often reveal children’s sense of themselves, as well as works by some contem- porary artists addressing concepts of normality such as Robert Buck and Janet Biggs. These artists provide a sharp contrast to the tests designed for ADHD by neuropsychologists, whose tests fail to consider any graphic abilities or knowledge of art conventions of the subjects they are testing. The second section of the book, too, is the work of writers with hybrid professional callings (farming, ecology, art and architecture) situated at the inter- sections of Design and Ecology. Unlike the artists discussed above, their concerns are less directly connected with individual artists in many cases. They share an interest in trans-disciplinary education about the state of our urban or rural environment, as well as the way it is designed and managed. For example Hilbeck and Hilbeck (Father and Daughter) teamed up to comment on the value of learning more about subsistence farming, while Christoph Kueffer and I collaborated on art and sci- ence interventions about the redesigning of nature. New problems about the educational and digital goals of urban planning are addressed by archi- tect Jan Słyk, and the issue of energy is debated by a prominent design and engineering team: Patrick Moriarity and Damon Honnery. For her investigation of agricultural land use policy in the former East Germany between 1950 and 1989, agricultural scientist, Angelika Hillbeck col- laborated with her father, a former farmer in the GDR. Herbert Hilbeck began to advise Bonn – after the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1989 – about the redistribution of lands that had been appropri- ated by the former GDR government, but he has first-hand experience of subsistence farming that occurred alongside the commercial Eastern collec- tive farming. Together, they explored the diverse and emotional affects of subsistence farming on communities and compared these results with Western and Eastern dominant commercial prac- tices. Through their seminal interviews with East German farmers who lived through the Communist era, they suggest the emotional and communitarian benefits of the subsistence survival – a practice that has since been discredited for neo-liberal economic reasons. By unpacking an analysis of the pros and cons of energy solutions design/engineers Patrick Moriarty
- 13. 11 Introduction to Turbulence and Reconstruction and Damon Honnery share their concerns about climate change and fast-approaching resource and pollution limits. These signs of turbulent times ahead are embodied in their astute assessments of energy policy. They are not optimistic, suggesting that social attitudes toward energy consumption and energy-consuming lifestyles need to be radi- cally altered – not merely tinkered with – in light of the anthropocene. They show how deeper analysis can help us to learn from the past, rather than the familiar reason we often hear in the media: that our energy use is greater than in the past. Indeed, unprecedented human-initiated altera- tions in the world around us have, not surpris- ingly, focused attention on climate change, both within and outside the rapidly growing discipline of ecolology, as well as in the art schools where designers are challenged by societies’ needs. Ecol- ogist Christoph Kueffer and I (artist/designer Jill Scott) focus on these changes in the urban envi- ronment and the growing number of collabora- tions between designers and scientists reflecting new thinking in this realm. Our own collaborative workshops are also local attempts to combine art, media and ecology, that seek to disrupt estab- lished concepts, blur disciplinary boundaries and encourage new thinking that reflects the changing face of our environmental practices, a relational approach may be more appropiate. Architect Jan Słyk interrogates the effects on architecture of the new focus on modular, and pro- grammable solutions for our crowded urban envi- ronments. Working within Warsaw University, whose architectural labs exert significant influ- ence on this fast growing metropolitan area, he questions the pedagogical value of a near-exclu- sive orientation toward digital design methods. Although architecture seemingly benefits from its nature as an inherently slow-moving, future- and consensus-driven discipline, this can also com- pound the problematic character of developments within the field, such as that of the seemingly unstoppable, 20th century direction of dehuman- izing, modernist architectural design. The impact of serviceable digital technologies on our lives is a widely and hotly debated subject today. In the Technology and Society por- tion of the book, hybrid theorists and media art- ists contemplate both the individual and social effects of technological capabilities as different as those connected with social media and the genetic redesign of species. En masse,the implica- tions of them are so radical and far-reaching that they challenge our sense(s) of reality and imply the necessity of very unique sorts of relation- ships and identities for the future. Here writers Agnieszka Jelewska, Juergen Moritz, Hugh Davies, Vince Dziekan and Boris Magrini conduct some analysis into different areas of technological and artistic research that may shed light on future dis- cussions. By confronting the turbulence of reality inside networked society, theorist Agnieszka Jelewska asserts the need for a redefinition of the concept of Resilience – frequently evoked in reference to the presumably durable and elastic character of the decentralized net – in the face of increasing cor- porate control of the online infrastructure. Social media might be used to enhance resilience and democratic features of network culture including
- 14. 12 accessibility and the potentials for community out-reach and political resistance, rather than their opposites. Can a kind of resilient mesh be built into our networks; a kind of alternative plat- form to help us navigate our way through social or environmental problems? Both human and specially-designed non-human agents may have to be involved in the reconstruction of our survival. Jelewska uses examples from gaming, wearable technology and internet-events to illustrate the potentials of such resilient networks. Jürgen Moritz, an Austrian media artist who lives in Thailand, for instance, references psychologists Jean Piaget and Sherry Turkle as well as the phi- losopher Michael Foucault, while examining our dependent relationships with electronic objects or “Empathetic Things”. He traces the shaping of our subjectivity that these inventions produce and highlights the deep psychological desire for self-mastering them and the ethical need to create a future where the care of ourselves is featured. While Moritz acknowledges the influence of tech- nology as ubiquitous, he cautions that we need to remain critical in order to construct a future that does not imperil our understandings of reality and humanity. In their unusual approach to gaming, Hugh Davies and Vince Dziekan assert that serious games with a satirical approach might help “save the world”. Echoing a viewpoint originating with surrealism nearly a century ago, they argue that games dis- engage us from and disrupt normal perceptions, opening up more free-form, unconventional spaces for thought. Many typical augmented reality games encourage paranoid sensations of being the hunter or the hunted! In order to breakdown this rather dualistic design of gaming real-world situations Davies and Dziekan encourage emotional tags and associations that deal with the following question: Can real world problems ever be designed in games that are non-violent? To investigate this question they produced “The Darkest Puzzle”, an alternate reality game based on the 9/11 terrorist attacks, in which players can reconstruct and ameliorate tur- bulent social conditions and can alter the actual outcome, causing a simulated world to be a discus- sion for real-world problems. Art historian, Boris Magrini finds another aspect of our networks not so appealing – the replacement of human transactions by technology fed by the philosophers and theorists of trans-humanism. Looking back at previous utopian visions of society, he points out how three artists/groups are dealing with this thin line, the porous border between science fact and science fictions of “the future-body”. As Magrini and others – including many sci-fi authors such as Margaret Atwood – sug- gest, science fiction is a mirror of current hopes and fears for the future, which reflect the turbu- lence of the past. In an era of medical and genetic miracles, a future that obviates the burden of our bodies seems not just possible but inevitable, and has become a nearly ubiquitous trope in so much literature and art. Using unconventional artworks as case studies from Tobias Bernstrup, Špela Petrič and etoy.CORPORATION, Magrini compares their speculative vision with related discourses such as hypothetical mapping, elitism, technophilic elitism and environmental activism, and encour- ages more artists to contribute to any alternative visions of our future.
- 15. 13 Introduction to Turbulence and Reconstruction Of course, from my own long history I know that visual artists and writers communicate and con- tribute to these visions through different means. For this book, it therefore seemed important to allow additional artists – that is, those who are not represented by essays – to participate by contrib- uting works rendered through their “language” of the visual. Therefore, two gallery spreads insti- gated by two curators are included in this book and they engage the themes of turbulence and recon- struction in varied ways. Art historian Susanne Hillman, who is interested in the after-effects of catastrophe, curated one gallery, which features reproductions of works on turbulence by artists Dawn DeDeaux, Ziad Zitoun and George Osodi. The dynamic works of these three artists about local environmental conditions speak for them- selves. The second gallery is by educator Anna Trzaska, who selected the artists Tamiko Thiel, Juanita Schlaepfer-Miller, Josephine Starrs/Leon Cmielewski and Eugenio Tisselli, because they all explore what she calls a reconstruction or interro- gationofthesublime.Heretheapplicationsoftech- nology and biotechnology on our historical view of history and the grandeur of nature is explored as well as the communities that rely on nature for survival. It is a pleasure to be able to offer these social oriented artworks in a book that is not origi- nally designed as an illustrated catalogue. Turbulence and Reconstruction was designed for an audience of educators and students of art, media, design, ecology and cultural theory inter- ested in engaging in a transdisciplinary discus- sion that suits the daunting complexity of our ever- expanding and inter-related problems. We seem to be ill-prepared for our current crisis of nature (climate change, biodiversity loss, feeding a growing population), technology (the steady accel- eration of microchips and technology into our daily lives-More’s Law) and the market economy (globalization with neoliberal values). These three crises raise a big, novel question: Is it possible to alter our out-dated modes of represen- tation, categorization, social prejudice, environ- mentally-sensitive design and notions of physical survival now? And – the elephant in the room – is there really any alternative if our species is to sur- vive? In that vein, I hope that these diverse essays and artistic interpretations variously provoke, inform and – especially – inspire further action by readers, artists and researchers who are inter- ested in the current issues of cultural studies. One solution might be found in the prescription by the existentialist Albert Camus: “Real generosity toward the future,” he wrote. “lies in giving all to the present.” (4) References 1. Gleiniger, A, Hilbeck, A & Scott.J , 2010, Transdiscourse 1, Mediated Environments. Springer NewYork/Vienna 2. Monash University History: http://www.lastsuperpower. net/Members/dmelberg/melbmaoists. Accessed 02.10.2015 3. Schneider, A , Wright, C 2013, “Art an Anthropology” in Antropology and Art Practice, Bloomsbury, UK 4. Campus, A , http://www.nobelprize.org/nobel_prizes/litera- ture/laureates/1957/camus-bio.html
- 16. ART AND SOCIETY
- 17. 15 The Big Gap Johanna Lier / With Photos by Nurit Sharett Perhaps the most significant difference we have to deal with today might not be about religion and nationality but about identification with new communities. In the second part of the 19th century Jewish refugees took the long journey to Switzerland from present-day Ukraine and upon arrival had to assimilate totally in order to survive. This extreme transition was doubleedged a migration from their religion and also from their country. This article is reflective of my own similar ancestral background. As a writer who was researching a book on the subject, I wanted to investigate a possible mirror situation.What happens in Israel when one has an orthodox life, and how does it really feel to leave this lifestyle behind you, either on a voluntary level or because of difficult circumstances. This journey took me to the Haredi community in Bnei Brak near Tel Aviv, and to Givat Shaul in Jerusalem to explore these differences. About 550 000 Orthodox Jews live in Israel today, many of whom live in Jerusalem or in smaller villages in both south and north Israel. Bnei Brak, the northern most city from Tel Aviv and home to some 151 000 residents, counts as one of the largest Orthodox communities in the world.Rabbi Yitzchak Gerstenkorn and a group of Polish immigrants founded this village in 1924. In this article the gap within the Jewish popula- tion between the Orthodox, or Haredim, as they are called, and the secular, or Chofschim, is taken as an allegory for the conflict between the problems of both traditionalism and modernity that shapes world politics today (Strenger 2006). Points of conflict include, among other things, the legal reg- ulation of everyday life, the question of whether
- 18. 16 traffic should be stopped on Shabbat, if restau- rants should be required to offer kosher foods, as well as questions of gender and, not least, of demo- graphic imbalance. The situation is exacerbated by the dramatic reductions in the quality of life for the people of Israel over the last twenty years, thanks to an economy driven by neoliberal poli- cies. Together with Palestinians, Orthodox Jews make up three-quarters of Israel’s poor. There is even talk in the country of “Haredi slums.” The Orthodox community, however, should not be confused with the Zionists, or so-called settlers, who with the large support from the current gov- ernment, continue to expand their illegal settle- ments in the Westbank and who see it as their duty, based on their interpretation of certain passages in the Torah, to re-conquer the “Holy Land.” This is a more right wing, nationalist posi- tion from which Orthodox Jews are far removed. For Orthodox Jews, the territorial, geographical possession of the Holy Land would be equivalent to human arrogance, a betrayal of the Messianic ideal (1) (Alain 2002). “So you want to go to Bnei Brak?” the taxi driver repeats, for a moment remaining motionless. Out- side the taxi, the steady rush of traffic – honking, hurried, aggressive. “Do you actually know what goes on there?” I respond, “Yes, I know.” He turns around and surveys me intensely, “At this hour? It’s six o’clock. It’s dark.” I point to the clock in the dashboard, signaling him to drive, “I’m run- ning late.” He throws the car into drive, shaking his head, “Okay. I’ll take you to Bnei Brak.” He accelerates to merge into the heavy evening traffic clogging the Shderot Yerushalaim, every now and again attempting to make eye contact with me in the rear view mirror, “You want to immigrate?” “No,” I answer, “I’m visiting a friend.” He whips around to look me in the eye, “You have friends there?” “Yes,” I say, aghast, directing his attention back to the street with a gesture of my hand. We are near the outskirts of Tel Aviv. On the side- walk an older man, Kaftan and long side locks. He walks quickly with a sunken head. The taxi driver points at the man excitedly, “You have friends like that?” “Yes,” I say. He continues, “And that’s not a problem?” “Do you have a problem?” I retort. “No,” he says, “To tell the truth, I like these people. You know, I like science fiction movies. Going to Bnei Brak is like a trip to another planet. These people are creatures from another world.” “What about politics?”, I ask. “Politics?” he repeats inquis- itively. “Yeah, their privileges.” I clarify, “The Orthodox get welfare, lots of them don’t pay their taxes, they don’t have to serve in the army...” “You know,” he says, “that doesn’t bother me. It’s all the same to me. Everyone should live like they want to. There are so many minorities in Israel! Every group should live the way they want, and they should all have the same rights. That’s the only way Israel’s going to survive. If we can’t do that – then forget it!” We drive past store after store after store, but rarely see an advertisement. Just the name of the store and that’s it. Colorful spots – vegetables and fruits. Mountains of long, round-white and light- brown varieties of bread – bakeries. Children run along the sidewalks of Rabbi Akiva Street, screaming and playing. The men travel in groups, hurried – some carry the Torah, praying under their breath, some adorned in enormous hats. The taxi driver searches for the street where my friend
- 19. 17 Johanna Lier Chawa Silberman lives, a complicated endeavor that prolongs our journey. I stare out the car window and remember the words of Paulina Ryklin, a secular acquaintance from Tel Aviv, a 40-year-old independent film producer who caustically remarked that for every secular family that produces two generations with an average of two children per family, there is a religious family that produces three generations with an average of eight. I remember, Paulina’s fury was directed at Palestinians as well, many of whom live traditional lives. She ranted, “They will outnumber all other groups when they leave the refugee camps!” In the streets young girls look tired and strain to push strollers, some holding as many as three children. Theirgazesseemtoconsciouslyexcludeallbutwhat relates to the task at hand. Women schlepp copious, overflowing shopping bags, walking upright and with purpose toward their destinations. “She would never ever shave her head and wear a wig or headscarf”, Paulina declared indignantly. In a majority rule democracy, she contended, the traditional populations would have also the say: “It was irrelevant if they came from Orthodox Jewish or Christian or Muslim Palestinian com- munities.” I remember the physical reaction of my muscles as they tensed in the face of Paulina’s anger. Her hatred of Orthodox Jews is a haunting reminder of European Anti-Semitism – and for us the Palestinian situation is a reminder of brutal, post-colonial policy. Is this the conflict between tradition and moder- nity that is tearing Israel apart more than the struggle between ethnic and religious communi- ties? I let these questions swim through my mind and try to release my tension by looking at what is passing before my eyes as the taxi flits in and out of the city streets. The dominant colors – black, gray, brown, and lots of dark blue, despite the occa- sional turquoise or purple – create a rather sub- dued, even gloomy atmosphere. It is as if external appearances, surfaces didn’t matter; no need to put on airs or impress with fashionable looks. By con- trast, my red blouse seems like a beacon, and I’m glad to still be in the taxi. The wind blows through the street lamps and yellow light flickers. We circle the city for an hour while, with a cell phone pressed to his ear, I hear Chawa Silberman’s insistent voice trying to give directions. Instead my frustrated driver simultaneously throws open the taxi door and bellows after a passerby for help. Finally, we reach a better part of town, and the driver appears to grow less nervous. Customer in good hands, this must be the place. He stops, turns suddenly around and says, “I wish you a lot of love, yes, I wish you a lot of love, be careful!” I pay and get out of the cab. “Call me when you want to go back. Give me a call!” shouts the driver out of the nearly closed window, as he races away to the roar of the accelerating motor. Tall palm trees sway slightly in the wind. No street signs. No house numbers. Virtually no light. Windows covered by venetian blinds. “Hello?” a soft voice says and, in the halo of a weakly shimmering street light, appears the tall, thin, slightly hunched over figure of Chawa Silberman. The next day I travel to Bnei Brak a second time. In the daylight, the area seems friendly. Bright Jeru- salem stone, lots of green, and the leisurely pace of
- 20. 18 people in the streets give the impression of petty bourgeois calm and order. Only a few squalid rear courtyards reveal the area’s rampant poverty. I sit in the foyer of the city administration building, waiting for Chawa Silberman and watching the people. Women in all variations of traditional clothing enter the hall, ascend the stairs, come back down after a little while and leave the building. They intrigue me. I observe them care- fully, longing to know more about the community my grandmother’s family elected to leave behind, to know more about the world embodied by these women, who one hundred years later, in a com- pletely different world, pursue essentially that same lifestyle once rejected by my grandmother (2). I examine their bare ankles or covered legs; Fig. 1: Little boys wait eagerly on Rabbi Akiva Street – rush hour traffic in Bnei Brak. Photo Nurit Sharett 2010. Fig. 2: Young women rush home, pushing their prams. Photo Nurit Sharett 2010 (Prams). Fig. 4: On Shabbat: a young Haredi-man goes to the synagogue while a secular girl rides a bike to a coffee shop. Rothschild in Tel Aviv. Photo Nurit Sharett 2010. Fig. 3: Young women crossing a square in Bnei Brak. Instead of headscarves they are now wearing wigs. Photo Nurit Sharett 2010.
- 21. 19 Johanna Lier some wear wigs, others caps, still others nothing on their heads at all; some wear short-sleeved t-shirts, others blouses buttoned to the neck. The standardized traditional woman doesn’t exist. Each has her own way of adhering to the rules in certain things and not in others. I decided then to adapt in some respects to my new surround- ings: most important is the skirt, then the covered shoulders and the pulled back hair – the rest is not something I am prepared to compromise on. I roll up the sleeves of my blouse, I do not wear stockings or cover my head and I even smoke the occasional cigarette in public, which contrary to the predic- tions of my friends, did not provoke an aggressive response from Orthodox men. No, they check me out, unequivocally flirting with their eyes, only to look away at the very moment our paths intersect. Suddenly, I am jolted from my thoughts by the entrance of a secular couple. She is tall, volup- tuous and scantily dressed, he is dressed casu- ally in shirt and shorts. They traverse the foyer, engaged in lively, intimate conversation. I follow them with my eyes and am briefly consumed by a flash of longing. I imagine at this moment that I am a Haredi teenager and that such sights would awaken in me the urgent desire to get out, to leave and lead a different life. But why? It’s not the clothes or the couple’s lightheartedness but rather the conversation: the intimacy between a man and a woman, displayed, lived out in public space, an intimacy not necessarily sexual but demonstrating their mutual respect and unencumbered commu- nication. I’m surprised at the ease with which I admit idealizations of the scene, as familiar as I am with the reality behind the appearance. Chawa Silberman, who works as a public auditor in the community’s administration, descends the stairs, greeting me with a smile and shows me around the building. Is she wearing a wig? Her hair seems to fall around her face so softly and naturally. With time, I notice that it doesn’t move in the slightest, that Chawa never runs her fingers through it nor plays with a single curl. Today, right now, in the hall of the City Council, contracts are to be awarded for a public construc- tion project. The tables have been set up in a semi- circle. At the head, sit the council members, men with kippah, beard and tallit, (3) while the busi- nessmen from secular Israel wait impatiently, playing with their cell phones and increasingly becoming irritated. The Chairman of the Council flips through the stacks of paper in front of him, looks helplessly about the room and sinks into his chair with resignation, turning to the colleague sitting next to him and posing questions. His questions are answered with great patience and in equally great detail – time appears to be no con- sideration. The Chairman is apparently unaware what matter of business is on the agenda, which, judging from the reaction of the council members is nothing new. The businessmen grow increas- ingly more irritated, they look repeatedly at their watches, make phone calls, tap (demonstratively impatient) on the table, sneer at one another. The man in shorts even shows his middle finger, and the tall voluptuous woman laughs aloud, shaking her head in disbelief – all such behavior goes fully unnoticed or unremarked upon by the Orthodox city council members. Chawa leans over and whispers, “For a decision to be legally binding, three members of each com-
- 22. 20 mission have to be present. Since this has not hap- pened, the regulation was amended. If all required people are not present half an hour after the start of the meeting, everyone in the room will be made a member of the commission in order to meet the legal requirements. If no one comes in the next few minutes, you’ll be made a member, too!” When I asked why the businessmen were so irritated, when they knew what was going on, Chawa shrugged her shoulders, “Yeah, everyone knows. It’s a game. The businessmen get angry, the council members ignore them. We don’t have to like them, nor they us. We’re just doing business. But doing business with members of the Orthodox community, that’s difficult. Then you have to make sure you don’t make any mistakes at the interpersonal level. You have to like the people, or at least pretend to, otherwise there is bound to be conflict.” “The city councilmen seem to be more relaxed than the businessmen,” I remark. “Why should you bother with people who don’t belong to your community?” Chawa explains, “With your own people, though, that’s complicated. Before you know it, you’re in the midst of a big fight. One mistake and you’re out. Oh, he’s here! Now there are enough of us. Too bad, now you won’t get to be a city council member, after all.” Chawa reclines calmly in her seat. The meeting concerns the installation of recycling systems for PET bottles and waste baskets, as well as street cleaning and heating systems for the mikvehn, the ritual immersion baths. There’s a problem with the mikvehn in the community of Bnei Brak. In the courtyards and basements, rear buildings and gardens, in the synagogues and public squares there are countless numbers of mikvehn, whose rooms have to be cooled, but whose showers and immersion baths have to be heated. The old systems of now rusty and porous gas tanks, leaking fumes and fuel, have become a massive environmental problem. A company based in Tel Aviv has developed a green energy concept that uses the residual heat from the warm air given off by the air conditioners to heat the water for the city’s mikvehn. This proposal is to be discussed in today’s council meeting. “Do you go to the mikveh regularly?” I ask. “Yes, of course,” Chawa replies, “Why do you ask?” “Because,” I explain, “I’d like you to tell me about it, though I hesitate to ask. It’s so intimate, so personal, almost like sex. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mean in the pornographic sense. It’s just that I’m asking a woman I only know through acquaintance about her body and her experiences with that body.” Chawa concedes, “Alright. Before you immerse yourself, you have to be clean. Women shower, wash their hair, clean and trim their nails, remove nail polish and make-up. It’s a ritual during which you devote your attention to your body in peace and quiet. Afterward you go naked to the mikveh attendant, who inspects your body to make sure there are no hairs or anything on you. When you immerse yourself, nothing, not even the tiniest piece of lint, is allowed to be between your skin and the water. Then you enter the water, say the blessing, and immerse yourself.” “What do you say?” I ask, pushing my luck. Chawa retorts, “Why does that matter to you? It’s none of your business.” “But, how do you manage to stay under?” I ask, slightly changing the topic, “I tried it once in a river and could hardly stay down. The water pushed me right back up to the surface.” Chawa laughs out loud, “In a river? I’d never tried that before! You only have to immerse for a second. You say the prayer, immerse for a second. That’s it. Pretty simple.”
- 23. 21 Johanna Lier Chawa gives me a skeptical look, as if to say, “Can you really understand, or are you only here to con- firm your prejudices? Do you really want to know, or am I wasting my time?” She pushes a plastic cup of water toward me across the table and begins to speak, “Two thousand years ago, people were only allowed to enter the great temple in Jerusalem after ritual immersion in the mikveh. You didn’t go through a doorway, but through a mikveh. Since the temple was a place where people took care of lots of everyday things, they were always in the mikveh. When women went into the mikveh seven days after the end of menstruation and then could sleep with their husbands again, it reminded us of this lost tradition and the loss of the temple.” Does the thread of time pass through the female body, preserving what has long been lost? Wom- en’s bodies not only bring forth new generations but serve as vessels of history, sustaining our memories of past generations. “Why is the blood of women taboo? Is it because women bleed and their soul is in the blood and, out of respect for the other and one’s own protection, one shouldn’t come into contact with the souls of other people?” “No!” snaps Chawa, losing her patience, “That’s a simplification. It’s about remembering the temple. The law requiring women to purify themselves in the mikveh is important, because it is the only way to sustain what was once most important in the temple.” (4) Why, then, do men thank God every morning when they wake up that they were not born as women? Why are women asked to offer their bodies, the most personal, intimate pos- session of all, to the community as a medium for remembering that two-thousand-year-old temple? Why does it have to be the female body that serves this purpose and not something else? “Seriously?” my secular friend Paulina Ryklin says as she shakes her head in disbelief, “Really, that’s what she told you? I can’t imagine that. It’s not about the temple, it’s about blood! A friend of mine made a film about it. She used to be secular, but now she’s ultra Orthodox… In childbirth, the father sits next to her and isn’t allowed to touch her. Imagine that! She gives birth to a child and he’s not allowed to touch her or his child! Because of the blood, he sits on the side of the bed and just looks at his wife and newborn child. Or, imagine, a couple might not touch each other for three weeks out of the month because the woman’s menstrual cycle is long.” Paulina reacts poorly, when I tell her about Chawa a few days later. She questions whether women were even permitted to enter the temple two thousand years ago. “Men were the only ones allowed in there. I can’t imagine for a second that women ever went in.” I meet Rafi Aloni, who looks like a farmer hiding another identity beneath his clothes, a patchwork person. He has a beard, wears a kippah on his head and a tallit around his waist. But his loose, check- ered shirt is longer than usual, nearly covering the tallit, so that only the tassels are visible at the bottom. He clears the air right away by explaining that although he wears traditional clothing, he is a confirmed atheist. “And you better put your camera away right now!” He doesn’t want to be photographed. If the people from his village found out what he was doing in the middle of Tel Aviv – what a catastrophe! He looks at me sternly, “Me or the camera! You can’t have both.” “Then you, of course,” I say, trying to ease his tension. “Where
- 24. 22 shall we go?” – trying to check his insecurity with politeness. I explain to him that I want to meet people who have left the Orthodox community for secular society, people who have gone through an inner migration, an extreme migration, being rad- ically cut off from the lives they had known until the moment they entered a world they knew little to nothing about. Rafi nods and glides through the small, dirty alleys surrounding the Carmel Market with its somewhat oriental feel. “I love this city,” he suddenly blurts out, widening his arms as if to embrace it. In Café Basta in Ha’Schomer Street, he greets the other guests with a handshake, young people. He likes to come here, he says, “totally unkosher, pork and all that stuff”. Here, in this café, everyone knows him and knows his personal history. “They take me as I am,” he proudly asserts. Heintroducesmetotheotherswithgrandgestures. They give a quick nod and turn back to their tables, signaling their lack of interest, as if my presence were something better overlooked. Is my desire to talk to them strange, even absurd, in their eyes? Or do they perhaps have ulterior motives? Rafi orders himself an Arak and, without asking, a coffee for me. “Do you want something to eat? The food here is fantastic! FANTASTIC!” Rafi is a computer scientist at an IT firm. His wife is a teacher, and they have six children and one grandson. He met his wife at the age of 5 in the sandpit. She was 4. They have been a couple since then. It is standard practice that a matchmaker, working on behalf of one of the couple’s families, finds a bride or groom, to keep the young people from making a mistake. After all, divorce is not desirable and very uncommon, not to mention a great disadvantage for the woman, since Rabbis tend to rule in favor of the man. It’s the matchmak- er’s responsibility to bring two people together, who suit each other, though more often matches are made in the interest of the family: an excellent bride or groom is a status symbol and, ultimately, the match is about money. Rafi grows furious as he explains, “The couple is only allowed to see each other one, two, maybe five times before they’re married. Once they’re engaged, they’re assigned a mentor, a madrich, who is supposed to tell them all the secrets of marriage, even the marriage bed. If things aren’t working out, they’re supposed to call and ask him what to do.” Rafi says he hasn’t believed in God since he was a child. When he turned 30, he made his decision, but was consumed by fear and sadness that everything he had learned until then had suddenly become useless. “Not guilt, no,” he describes, thinking back, “No, not guilt, but a lot of regret.” He fought with his wife for 6 years and, in all that time, she never stopped hoping he would come back, while he wished she would be willing to make this momentous step to enter secular society with him, to move to Tel Aviv and live a normal life. A normal life – that’s what he called it even then. But then he realized the hopelessness of their battle and they gave up. “It was a very difficult time, but we made it through,” he recalls. Rafi feels compelled, however, to lead a double life, to go into “inner emi- gration”. “I had to convince [my wife] that I was staying out of love for her. She had always thought I had another woman in Tel Aviv, but why would I have stayed, if not out of my great love for her?” Suddenly in a dark mood, Rafi gazes through the window and orders another Arak. I begin to feel
- 25. 23 Johanna Lier uncomfortable, like I had created the mood by asking him to tell his story. I feel helpless, unable to console him, knowing that any attempt to do so could only be awkward at best. Still, I want to know more, because I’m convinced that lots of people of all ages and situations, time and places are experi- encing or have experienced this same thing. That this kind of precarious, restless life of transition is more common now than the sense of conti- nuity across generations, which is propagated in conservative circles as the ideal, if not simply a matter of course. I physically sense a kind of rest- lessness in my own body that is perhaps best con- veyed with terms like agitation, mourning, hope and fury. These feelings are based on an age-old experience that cannot be located in any of my own concrete past. Finally, I ask him how he deals with traditional life when he returns to his village. “My wife lives the religious life and I do what I have to, to keep from drawing attention. I go to the syna- gogue, because she wants me to. Of the two hun- dred people on Shabbat I’m the only one who has a good reason to be seen.” I laugh out loud and Rafi gives me a wink. Contented, he looks through my papers, at the coffee cup, then wanders off into the café to take up conversation with someone at a neighboring table. I am left alone to think. I think about what he said, how the total break with his past would have made it seem like everything he had felt, thought and learned up to that point had been for nothing. I think about my own life, shaped as it is by radical breaks in my environment, and the dominant belief that such breaks are necessary to free oneself, to develop. Rafi returns to the table and continues his story. “The whole family comes together to celebrate on the Shabbat. We talk and discuss, each of us tells each other about his week. I would never want to miss that. I speak the kiddush at these gatherings, the blessing, yeah, I do, no problem, it’s only a few words. I like to do it.” However, it makes him angry that you’re only allowed to say what is in the Talmud and the Torah, that it’s forbidden to express your own thoughts or try to discuss them. And he doesn’t understand the seculars who continue to call them- selves Jews. “I am not a Jew,” he proclaims, emp- tying his glass of Arak in one swig. “A Jew is only allowed to be with other Jews, can only help other Jews. Maybe I’m an Israeli, but that’s something else.” Don’t these seem to be typical anti-Semitic arguments? Rafi chuckles, raising his hands and pointing to his chest. “Am I not allowed to say that? Anti-Semitism is when I’m ridiculed in the street because of my traditional clothing. When I act on the basis of well-founded and carefully considered arguments, that’s critique. Critique is good. It’s hate that makes the difference. Hate is always racist.” I ask Rafi if he is truly able to hide his identity in his village. “When I drink a beer with a religious person, I murmur the blessing, move my lips. When I enter a room where religious people are, I touch the Mezuzah and kiss my fingers” (5). His parents know, but can’t accept it, so they argue a lot. There are also families that don’t want their children to play with his. He had to fight for the right to send his children to the Talmud school. Two of his sons served their time in military service. An affront! “If you’re looking for great, dramatic reactions, for scandals, you’re going to be disappointed. It’s the small, subtle gestures in everyday life that make it clear, you don’t belong.” “Isn’t that even worse?” I ask. He shrugs his shoulders and shies from my
- 26. 24 Fig. 6: Young man looking for religious literature in a bookshop in the neighborhood of Chawa’s house. Photos Nurit Sharett 2010. Fig. 7: An emotionally turbulent encounter with the dog of a secular couple. Orthodox people believe that dogs are impure animals that must be feared. Photos Nurit Sharett 2010. Fig. 5: Kitchen in Chawa Silberman’s house. On the left side she cooks dishes with milk and on the right side only with meat. Photos Nurit Sharett 2010.
- 27. 25 Johanna Lier gaze, “Maybe.” Now, more insistently, I add, “What about feeling lonely?” Rafi explains, when he goes to eat with his colleagues from work, the seculars among them, who he would actually like to talk to, send him to the Orthodox colleagues, with whom he can’t talk the way he would like to. Home is where he can be himself, with his wife and his older chil- dren, or in Tel Aviv, or in this café, where everyone knows him. “You want to know where I like to go best? To the lesbian bar! Right around the corner is a popular gay bar. They love me. They even made me an honorary member. I feel at home there. They exist on the margins of society and many of them lead a double life like I do.” Friday afternoon. In Café Landwehr in Gan Meir Park on King George Street in the center of Tel Aviv an ample breakfast is being served. Rafi trav- erses the café with a bottle of self-made schnapps under his arm and places it resolutely on the table. Miron Sofer, startled by the noise, raises his head from his overfilled plate and acknowledges us with a friendly greeting. He’s wearing a polo shirt, white boxer shorts, tennis shoes and sunglasses. He gulps his food and talks with his mouth full. A crowd of people gather under the trees in the nearby park. Loud voices reverberate through megaphones, flyers are being distributed. Miron is a student in business administration, who left the Haredi community to join secular society. It felt to him, at the time, “like a secret with seven seals”. Religion, he says, has never interested him. Even as a child, he could tell that many in the community weren’t really religious but stayed because their grandparents and great grandparents had lived in the community. Staying was easy and comfortable. “Though, I like my people. Why not go to the syna- gogue every now and then? But that’s not possible. It’s all or nothing here. Flexibility and mixing, like you see in Europe, America or Australia, is unthink- able here.” As a reflex, he looks repeatedly at Rafi for confirmation, who sluggishly, kindly nods his head and gets up from the table to make his way to the crowd assembled in the park to protest for the rights of children of undocumented guest workers from Eritrea. “Those are the real problems,” Rafi says with the wink of an eye and makes his way across the street. The worst thing about modern society is the lone- liness. “There are some who can’t deal with it and commit suicide. We’re not used to being alone. The idea that someone would die and no one would notice until the apartment started smelling is absolutely unimaginable for the Haredim! If you’re sick, someone comes round straightaway to see how you’re doing, if there’s anything you need!” explains Miron. “Don’t you ever meet other ex-Haredim?” I ask naively. He chews quickly and swallows a spoonful of scrambled eggs, nodding his head, “Yeah, yeah, we see each other, if some- one’s moving, it’s perfectly normal for someone to offer a car, an old refrigerator or a bed. Just say what you need, without having to ask. In a manner of speaking, it’s in our blood.” “What do you do to keep from feeling lonely?” I continue. “I watch TV, work, play on the computer, chat, read or listen to the radio,” Miron says. “And sometimes I meet up with other ex-Haredim.” It’s easier they say. They speak the same language, have the same humor. They talk about movies, music, work and their anxieties about love and sex. “But if a woman lays her hand on my knee, I don’t know what to do. If she kisses me, I don’t know what to do. If she
- 28. 26 looks at me full of expectation, it’s a catastrophe. What does she want? How does she want it? Where does she want it? I didn’t even know that the man inserts his penis into the woman’s vagina. We don’t know anything.” “So how did you find out?” I ask, to which Miron responds with barking laughter, like an innocent child. “I figured it out on the Internet. Let’s just say I learned the tech- nical aspect of sex online.” He speaks profusely. His openness surprises me. He treats me like an intimate friend. Is it the age difference? What does he want? He didn’t remove his sunglasses the entire conversation. His expressly sporty attire doesn’t really match his plump arms and legs. His skin is pale and seem- ingly soft. While I sit there wondering about the reasons for his candor, Miron leans over, takes hold of my arm and softly explains that he isn’t just doing this for me but for himself as well. Talking about it, again and again, is his therapy. With that he continued, “If a Haredi man comes home and hangs his hat in the bedroom or if he comes out of the shower with only a towel wrapped around his waist, his wife knows he wants to have sex. Those are clear signals we learn in the community. I am used to communicating essen- tial information through signals. I can’t imagine articulating what I want. Expressing your needs, the psychological side of interpersonal relation- ships, is something completely foreign to us. We don’t know how to do it.” There are no statistics on how many Haredim have entered secular society, the subject is taboo among many families. Miron confirms, he is one of the lucky ones who was able to maintain con- tact with his family, although it is very compli- cated. For most, leaving the community means a radical break. Their families even hold a wake, a Schiwa, because for them, their son or daughter is dead. “Do you still consider yourself a Jew?” I ask. Miron wipes his hand across his mouth, an intimate question, with an answer that could be political dynamite! This is the question that may ultimately decide the fate of a democratic Israel. (6) In many ways, Israel’s legislative system still follows rabbinical rules. “If Israel were a secular state, there might be more peace between its various groups. Only then will Israel be truly democratic. But a secular state wouldn’t be a state for the Jews. I see it as an irreconcilable opposition. I admit, when it comes to the question of a Jewish State, I can’t manage to change my attitude.” “So what do you do on Shabbat?” I pose one final question. Miron grins playfully, “I eat pork sandwiches!” We walk down King George Street toward Carmel Markt. In less than an hour all the shops will be closed, the streets empty but right now the side- walks are bustling. Everyone is rushing about, doing their shopping. You can hardly get through all the bicycles, strollers, and dogs. Miron stays close to me, making sure I don’t get lost in the crowd. It feels like he never wants to let go of this time together, as if he longed to continue our conversation forever. Every few feet, he greets someone he knows, exchanging a few words with each. “All ex-Haredim,” he explains, looking at me sideways. When he happens to run into so many people he considers friends in such rapid succes- sion, his life seems anything but lonely, more full,
- 29. 27 Johanna Lier even overloaded. But the self-evident nature of love and family is different from the freedom we have with friends. I thank Miron for our conversation and begin to make my way toward Bus number 25 through Allenby Street toward Jaffa. He holds me back, “But what bus are you taking?” Then after a pause, “Never mind! I’ll go with you.” A few days later I return again to Bnei Brak with photographer Nurit Sharett. Chawa Silbermann has given us permission to take some photos in her house. Nurit is hesitant but finally agrees. As we drive along Rabbi Akiva Street toward our destina- tion,Nuritisnervous.Hermoodmakesmeinsecure and I begin to question my plans to take pictures in Bnei Brak. Nurit tells some terrible stories on the way: “They yelled ‘You are a whore, a whore!’ as I walked through Bnei Brak, and threw stones at me. I was twenty, being harassed by a horde of teenage boys about 13 years old.” Then she tells the story of the young man on a motorcycle who fell victim to a wire some Orthodox had spanned across the street to keep people from driving in their quarter on Shabbat. He was decapitated instantly. We find a place to park and get out making jokes to ease the tension. Chawa opens the door. Her face brightens when she sees me standing there. Then she spots Nurit as she enters from the light beyond the dark entryway. Chawa’s face turns to a hard, ominous stare. She snaps at me in English, “Do you have former Israeli friends?” Taken aback by the sudden unwelcoming tone and brashness of her inquiry, I retort, “Yes. Do you think I should not?” In the course of the next few hours, the two women avoid one another. Nurit concentrates on her work and asks me what she is allowed to photo- graph. Chawa leads me eagerly around the house, explaining everything about the kitchen, the Book of Esther, the Shabbat dishes, and the velvet sack her husband takes with him to the synagogue. The two women communicate through me to keep from looking at, much less addressing, each another. I, a stranger to both their cultures, have come to serve as the connective tissue mediating between two warring parties. Toward the end of our visit, Chawa invites us to sit at the kitchen table adorned with melon and incomparable, heavenly-tasting vanilla yogurt. She suddenly turns to Nurit and begins to tell her stories – of the abuse she has suffered at the hands of seculars. Nurit listens attentively, throwing the ball back in Chawa’s court with her own horror stories with the Orthodox. In time the duel evolves into a discussion and, finally, to points of intersection where they might meet to find a solution: What should one do when secular rela- tives come to visit on Shabbat on a motorcycle? Are you allowed to take an Orthodox relative to the hos- pital on Shabbat in the car? The melon and yogurt have been eaten. Meanwhile Nurit and Chawa’s conversation has arrived at private life: family, home, travel, food. Soon they have forgotten me entirely. Still tense about their explosive poten- tials, I observe the conversation and sense the extraordinary significance of what is happening, without realizing its future. In the summer of 2011, when secular Tel Aviv was shaken by protests sparked by the international Occupy Movement and protestors were camped in their tents on Shderot Rothschild for weeks, I received an astonishing email from Chawa. It read, “I met your photographer friend in Tel Aviv at the tent protest in Rothschild Blvd. Maybe you
- 30. 28 have read about our social protest over the last two months. Your friend had some interesting sugges- tions. We have had a lot of intensive discussions.” That a Haredi woman was among the protestors, that she joined secular women in their tents to talk politics is, though small and inconspicuous, nothing less than a revolution. An involuntary, complicated encounter had created the possibility for two people, who would otherwise have hated each other, to squeeze together in a tent to fight for a common cause. Such an encounter must surely feel turbulent to both parties, especially when thought of in terms of the synonyms of turbulence – namely unrest, tempest, and uproar. Perhaps the most significant issue that these communities have to contend with today might not necessarily be about different religious beliefs and nationali- ties, but about the need to identify and share the same problems with other concerned residents! References — — Alain, G 2002, ‘Israel, Palestine. Vérité sur un conflit’, Librairie Arthème Fayard, Paris. — — Alfred, JK 2000, The Jewish Book of Why, Jonathan David Publishers, New York. — — Strenger, C 2006, ‘Israel – Einführung in ein schwieriges Land’ Jüdischer Verlag im Suhrkamp Verlag, Frankfurt am Main. — — Gershom, S, Haredim 1970, ‘Those who tremble (Hebr.). Chofschim: those who question (Hebr.)’ Über einige Grundbe- griffe des Judentums, Edition Suhrkamp, Frankfurt am Main — — Chawa Silberman, 2010, Interview between the Author and Silberman in Bnei Brak and with Paulina Ryklin, 2010 in Tel Aviv, both in the archives of the author. Endnotes 1 For Orthodox Jews, the territorial, geographical possession of the Holy Land would be equivalent to human arrogance, a betrayal of the Messianic ideal. 2 In traditional Jewish culture the 613 laws (Hebrew: Mitzwa/ Mitzwot), including 365 prohibitions and 248 command- ments, are to be practiced each and every day. 3 A Kippah is a small hat or headcovering and is the tradi- tional headcovering for men. A Tallit is a Jewish prayer shawl that men wear daily and use to cover their heads and shoulders during prayer. 4 The Jewish Laws of Niddah (a woman having her regular menstrual period) are based on a passage from Leviticus: “If a woman has an emission, and her emission in her flesh is blood, she shall be seven days in her separation…” Later Jewish law proscribes that the time of sexual abstinence shall last twelve days. The Laws of Niddah are a point of controversy among Jewish women. Many see them as a massive intrusion on their physical self and the self-deter- mination of their own intimacy. Others see them as a way to celebrate the female cycle, and to demand respect and consideration. Still others contend that they are a way of maintaining sexual desire. 5 After every activity or occurrence, a special blessing is spoken specifically for that event. A Mezuzah is a small capsule containing a piece of parchment with verses from the Torah. It is affixed to the right hand doorjamb of every room in the house. 6 In a program on Swiss Radio DRS 2 from 18 October 2011 in Bern, the journalist Naomi Bubis points out that this summer the author Yoram Kaniuk is the first Israeli to have been awarded Isreali citizenship without being Jewish. He is the first genuinely secular Israeli citizen. Bubis also reports that in the wake of protest movements in the summer of 2011 there is discussion in the Knesset about reintroducing civil marriage. Bubis sees both developments stemming from the rise of a secular class that had long been quiet, but which is now growing active again.
- 31. 29 Identifying and Categorizing: Power, Knowledge, Truth and the Artistic Strategies of Guillermo Gómez-Peña and Fiona Tan Teresa Chen Although categorisation or identification of things in the world is an impor- tant human trait for understanding the environment and its relationship to us, when combined with power inequalities to produce ‘knowledge’ about certain groups of people, this process can generate beliefs and actions that can have horrifying consequences. Here, I compare the strategic approaches of Guillermo Gómez-Peña and Fiona Tan in order to investigate the role of power, knowledge, and truth in classifying and identifying people. Gómez- Peña and Tan create visual art that reveal how systems of classification, as well as the mediums of film and photography, are invariably subjective. While Tan interrogates the validity or objective truth of systematic catego- rization, Gómez-Peña exposes our collective unconscious assumptions and associations about other cultures by using oversimplified classifications or stereotypes. Both artists have a personal history of multiple cultural iden- tities and make work that critically challenges historical assumptions and consequences within the discipline of anthropology, including ethnographic methodologies. Although the works have similar themes and make critical references to the history of anthropology and its “crisis of representation”, the strategies and aesthetics employed by both artists are radically different. I will introduce some theoretical discussions about the correlations between knowledge and power and how this affects classifying and stereotyping.
- 32. 30 “In short, if I am inescapably Chinese by descent, I am only sometimes Chinese by consent. When and how is a matter of politics” (Ang 2001, p. 36). Cultural theorist Ien Ang’s quote not only reveals the correlation between the aesthetic and the political meanings of representation, it also affirms the personal and the political power in defining and identifying ethnic or racial differ- ence. By rejecting essentialist categories, creative production of new meanings in representation can be inspired. Moreover, the power inherent in defining or controlling knowledge about who is different and why is also significant. In gen- eral, categorisation or identification of things in the world is an important human trait for under- standing the environment and its relationship to us. However, as cultural theorist Stuart Hall observes in his filmed lecture Race, the Floating Signifier (1997), classifying things is a human impulse, one that is necessary to determine meaning and to understand the world around us. Nevertheless, a problem arises “when the systems of classification become the objects of the dispo- sition of power” (Hall 1997) in the categorising of human beings; in other words, when these phys- ical markers of difference become the reason one group of people receives more advantages than another. According to Antonio Gramsci’s idea of cultural hegemony (1), the dominating class retains its power with the consent of the subordi- nating classes by projecting its view of the world as ‘natural’ or ‘common sense’ which then becomes the consensus view. Following Michel Foucault (2), Hall has repeatedly emphasized the significance of hierarchies of power for defining or controlling knowledge or truth about who is different and why. The principal method for the classification of people is based on physiognomic factors where particular ethnic and racial signifiers are corre- lated to a set of meanings from specific social and historical contexts. As these definitions of differ- ence are subject to power relations, one group with particular ethnic or racial signifiers has typically received more advantages than another. There- fore, although identifying and classifying things around us is important and practical, when com- bined with power inequalities to produce ‘knowl- edge’ about certain groups of people, this process can generate beliefs and actions that can have horrifying consequences including genocide and ethnic cleaning. In this essay, I examine and compare the artistic practices of Guillermo Gómez-Peña and Fiona Tan in order to reveal the correlations between power, knowledge and truth inherent in historical ethnographic practices which classified people. Although at first glance, Gómez-Peña and Tan seem to have little in common, both critically chal- lenge historical assumptions and consequences within the discipline of anthropology and its ethnographic methodologies. While Gómez-Peña incorporates a strategy of “reverse anthropology” in his installative performances in order to expose the unconscious and invisible nature of stereo- types, Tan interrogates the ‘objectivity’ of catego- rization and depictions of people and cultures in documentary film and photography in her work. I contend that these artists challenge the assump- tions which establish how people have been his- torically categorized and identified and thus stim- ulate us to reflect on and potentially reject these classifications as well as their representations.
- 33. 31 Teresa Chen Anthropology: Colonialist Heritage, Ethnographic Displays Because the artistic approaches of Gómez-Peña and Tan are both influenced by the history of anthropology, it may be valuable to provide some historical background to this discipline and its ethnographic practices. The discipline of anthro- pology as a study of humans and society emerged during the European colonialist expansion in the mid-nineteenth century. At this time, unilineal evolutionary theories were popular and explained societaldevelopmentintermsofculturalevolution, where societies began in a ‘primitive’ state and gradually progressed to a ‘civilized’ one. As each societyintheworldwasbelievedtohaveprogressed through similar stages of culture (Smith and Young 1997), Western culture was seen as the high point of social evolution and non-European people (par- ticularly Africans) were positioned between the great apes and human beings of European descent. Charles Darwin’s theories about evolution and natural selection reinforced this idea. Correspond- ingly, British social anthropology concentrated on the exotic Other in the British colonial territories in order to discover ‘facts’ about these cultures and “liked to present itself as a science which could be useful in colonial administration” (Kuper 1996, p. 100). This perspective also prompted Bronislaw Malinowski, a Polish anthropologist who studied and taught in London during the early twentieth century, to pioneer a methodology based on ‘partic- ipant observation’ which still forms the basis for modern ethnographic practice. The assumption was that observation by a neutral, detached sci- entific expert would produce objective knowledge about other ‘exotic’ societies and cultures. Representing ‘exotic’ cultures with displays of live non-white bodies for public entertainment in cir- cuses, zoos and museums, as well as World Expo- sitions, also became very popular in Europe and America during the nineteenth century. In these ethnographic exhibitions, the ‘natives’ would often live in ‘authentic’ villages and present cer- emonies, dances, and tasks of their supposedly daily life (Kirshenblatt-Gimblett 1991, p. 406). The people would be classified based on the geography of the exhibition, or according to the prevailing common beliefs of their evolutionary condition (Greenhalgh 1988). The absurd and contemptible social evolutionary ideas of the time claimed that non-Western humans were inferior and closer to an earlier stage of human evolution than Western civilized societies. For example, in 1906, the Con- golese ‘pygmy’ (3), Ota Benga, was put on display at the Bronx Zoo in New York City in a cage with an orangutan and labelled “The Missing Link”. Displaying live human specimens was not the only form of human spectacle at this time; often the dis- sected and embalmed remains of the ‘native’ body, particularly the skull, and sexual organs, were also publicly exhibited. In fact, many Western museums including the British Museum and le Musée de l’Homme, in France still have various body remains in their collections, which have also caused much public debate (4). Cultural differences were vis- ually observed on the ‘native’ body, whether in live human exhibitions or in dissected body parts on public display. Both forms of spectacle served to confirm the fallacious view of Western culture’s superiority by presenting non-white cultures as being inferior and ‘primitive’. Whereas both Fiona Tan and Guillermo Gómez-Peña have created art- work that examines anthropology’s problematic
- 34. 32 history, Gómez-Peña established his key strategic approach to art by parodying and undermining the concept of ethnographic displays. “Reverse Anthropology”: The Artistic Strategies of Guillermo Gómez-Peña In performance, impersonating other cultures and problematizing the very process of impersonation can be an effective strategy of what I term ‘reverse anthropology’. By ‘reverse anthropology’ I mean pushing the dominant culture to the margins and treating it as exotic and unfamiliar. Whether conscious or not, performance challenges and critiques the ideological products of anthropology and its fraudulent history and yet still utilizes parts of the discipline’s methodologies (Gómez-Peña 2005). In the above quote, Gómez-Peña describes his main artistic strategy for his performances from the last twenty years. What was historically seen as the ‘neutral’ standpoint of anthropologists observing ethnographic subjects is called into question and found to be highly subjective. Foucauldian power hierarchies or Hall’s argument of racial discourse and the cultural hegemonic ‘norms’ of the domi- nant culture influence and define the knowledge or the beliefs and values of the anthropologist him- self, a profession that has been historically mascu- line and Eurocentric. Through an imitation of the ethnographic method of participant observation, where the ‘objective’ observer actually has subjec- tive ‘knowledge’ of the Other he/she is observing, Gómez-Peña ‘reverses’ the awareness of what these fantasies are – they are no longer unseen, uncon- scious and mutually accepted categories of the dominant society, but instead they become clear, concrete, absurd realities acted out by Gómez-Peña and his colleagues in their performance installa- tions. Therefore, his intention for his strategy of “reverse anthropology” is to reveal the dominant culture’s cultural projections as well as its prob- lems in relating to other cultures rather than an attempt to represent the Latino Other (Gómez- Peña 2005). For example, in one of his earlier significant perfor- mance installations, The Couple in a Cage: Undis- covered Amerinidians (1992), Gómez-Peña together with Coco Fusco re-enacted colonial ethnographic display methods by dressing up as exotic tribal fig- ures and presenting themselves in a cage as “spec- imens representative of the Guatinaui people” in several major cities (see Fig. 1). Using established museum presentation methods (explanatory texts, maps, etc.), Gómez-Peña and Fusco staged their own display by wearing absurd costumes and performing bizarre ‘native’ rituals. Similar to the live human displays of the past, Fusco and Gómez-Peña performed the role of the cultural Other for the museum audience. They presented exotic ‘native traditions’ such as sewing voodoo dolls or watching television. Museum guards from local institutions provided visitors with further (fictitious) information about the couple, passed bananas to the artists during ‘feeding time’, and escorted them to the bathroom on leashes. For a small fee, they would also pose for pictures. Some of the visitors in London, Madrid, and New York saw the irony, but more than half of them believed
- 35. 33 Teresa Chen that the fictitious Guatinaui identities were real (Fusco 1994). Gómez-Peña had discovered a provoc- ative strategy through his parody of ethnographic display methods in a performance which he con- tinued to use for many of his next major perfor- mance works. Gómez-Peña’s next important project was the participatory performance, installation and exhi- bition The Temple of Confessions (1994-1996), which he produced in collaboration with Roberto Sifuentes. According to Gómez-Peña, they re-en- acted the narrative of “two living santos [saints] from an unknown border religion, in search of sanctuary across America. People were invited to experience this ‘pagan temple’ and confess to the saints their intercultural fears and desires” (Gómez-Peña 2000, p. 35). The installation had three separate areas: the Chapel of Desires, the Chapel of Fears and a “sort of mortuary chamber in the middle.” In the Chapel of Desires, Sifuentes sat in a Plexiglas box posing as a “holy gang member,” the “El Pre-Columbian Vato” (5). His arms and face were covered with pre-Columbian tattoos and he wore a bloodstained shirt and he held a gun that he occasionally cleaned with an American flag (see Fig. 2). Behind him was a Styrofoam facade of a “pre-Columbian temple” with a neon sign dis- playing: “We incarnate your desires.” Opposite the Chapel of Desires was another Plexiglas box, the Chapel of Fears, where Gómez-Peña sat on a toilet bowl or in a wheelchair dressed in a “Tex-Mex Aztec outfit” as a futuristic shaman, “San Pocho Aztlaneca”(6), under a neon sign that read: “We incarnate your fears.” Two “chola/nuns”, one preg- nant and the other dressed as “dominatrix/nun” with a moustache and goatee, performed the role of care-takers and encouraged visitors to “con- fess”. Wooden church kneelers and microphones were located in front of the Plexiglas boxes with the “santos” for recording the viewer confessions about their intercultural fears and desires. Those Fig. 1: The Couple in a Cage: Undiscovered Amerindians by Guillermo Gómez-Peña and Coco Fusco, 1992-93. Guillermo Gómez-Peña and Coco Fusco at the Smithsonian Courtesy Pocha Nostra Archives. Fig. 2: The Temple of Confessions by Guillermo Gómez-Peña and Roberto Sifuentes, 1994-96. Roberto Sifuentes in The Temple of Confessions Courtesy Pocha Nostra Archives.
- 36. 34 who were too shy to speak into the microphone could either write their confessions and deposit them in an urn or call a toll-free number after they left the installation. Gómez-Peña and Sifuentes would later choose the most revealing ones to be included on the soundtrack for future perfor- mances (Gómez-Peña 2000, pp. 35-41). There was an overwhelming, often very emotional, response to The Temple performances. The range of confessions included assertions of extreme violence and racism to expressions of solidarity or guilt. By confronting viewers with a variety of powerful cultural stereotypes in an exagger- ated theatrical and religious setting, the artists triggered memories of buried stereotypes from the viewers. Shock, shame, anger, and resent- ment were expressed in the ‘confessions’ and the embedded fears and thoughts towards Mexi- cans, Chicanos, and people of other cultures were revealed. Some examples were: ‘Please don’t shoot me. I’m afraid of getting shot…by Mexicans, simply for being white.’ ‘Chicanos scare me. The men, they scream at me. When I see them, I think ‘rape.’ I feel this is wrong, but I can’t help it.’ ‘I am afraid that we will soon be outnumbered citizens.’ ‘I hate you precisely because I understand you.’ ‘Why the voodoo in your work? Many things in your culture scare people visually. Can’t you be more positive, more sensitive towards us?’ ‘I confess to listening to the real lives of Mexicans as if they were movies because they are so foreign to me that they don’t seem real.’ ‘I desire to fall in love with a Hispanic and be mistreated.’ (Gómez-Peña 2000, pp. 41-43). A related website was created where users could fill out a pseudo-anthropological questionnaire and ‘confess’ their fears about the Other online. In the first year, they received over 20,000 hits and the information collected provided Gómez- Peña with inspirational material for subsequent major performance installations including The Mexterminator Project (1997-99). In this installation, the performance space was dramatically lit and accompanied by loud music as well as recorded texts. Fake documentary films about a Second US/ Mexico war combined with filmed images of Mexican stereotypes on American television were projected in the perfor- mance space. Live human “ethno-cyborgs” were displayed on platforms with special gadgets and objects. Sifuentes played a “Cybervato”, a more technically upgraded “robo-gang member” which reenacted fears about the dangers of Chicano youth similar to his previous role in The Temple. Gómez-Peña played “El Mad Mex,” a transgen- dered Tex-Mex Shaman on a lowrider wheel- chair with chrome fenders, in order to portray a spiritual healer, another stereotype of Mexican and other ‘primitive’ societies.
- 37. 35 Teresa Chen In their following performance installation, The Mexterminator Project (1997-1999), Gómez-Peña and Sifuentes designed visual and performative representations of fantasy Mexican and Chicano “ethno-cyborgs” based on descriptions from the “confessions”. Since a majority of the responses saw Mexicans and Chicanos as threatening Others, Gómez-Peña and Sifuentes used the name Mex- terminator, in reference to the Schwarzenegger movies (7), and their superhuman robotic assas- sins (see Fig. 3). As Gómez-Peña writes: “Our goal was to incarnate the intercultural fantasies and nightmares of our audiences, refracting fetishized constructs of identity through the spectacle of our ‘primitive,’ eroticized bodies on display” (Gómez- Peña 2000, p. 49). Gómez-Peña and his performance group La Pocha Nostra (roughly translated to mean “Our Impuri- ties” (8)) have had a pioneering role in the realm of performance/installation with their creation of interactive “living museums” that parody colo- nial practices of representation including ethno- graphic dioramas and freak shows. These works were particularly powerful in America during the 1990s, when concepts of identity politics were still being encouraged in art discourse. His perfor- mance installation with Coco Fusco described ear- lier was also included in the highly controversial 1993 Whitney Biennial which had concentrated on overtly political art. His various activities that include performance, video, installation, poetry, and cultural theory have focused on the border cultures between North and South (Mexico and the USA) and are often based on his own personal experiences. In fact, Gómez-Peña, a prolific writer and charismatic culture figure and artist, states: “I only write or make art about myself when I am completely sure that the biographical paradigm intersects with larger social and cultural issues” (Gómez-Peña 2000, p. 8). Through these experi- ences and circumstances, Gómez-Peña has con- sistently and publicly positioned his artistic prac- tice as politically activist with the aim to achieve political and social change through his work. Gómez-Peña’s primary method for resisting fixed identification categories has been his incorpo- ration of over-exaggerated cultural stereotypes about natives, primitives, traditions, etc. in his performance installations. Stereotyping is a method of classification by dominant groups that Fig. 3: The Mexterminator Project by Guillermo Gómez-Peña and Roberto Sifuentes, 1997-1999. Guillermo Gómez-Peña as El Mad Mex Courtesy Pocha Nostra Archives.
- 38. 36 uses extremely simplified definitions of differ- ence. In his essay “The Spectacle of the ‘Other’”, Stuart Hall referred to film theorist Richard Dyer’s distinction between “typing” where “a few traits are foregrounded” and “stereotyping” which exaggerates and simplifies these traits and then reduces an individual or group to them, without any possibility of change (cited in Hall 1997, p. 258). When the link between ethnic or racial sig- nifiers and other attributes appears natural and unconscious, racial or cultural differences are “fixed”. Dyer asserted that stereotypes function as “mechanisms of boundary maintenance, are char- acteristically fixed, clear-cut, and unalterable” (cited in Hall 1997, p. 258). Hall extends Dyer’s argument and contends that stereotypes create “a symbolic frontier between … what ‘belongs’ and what is ‘other’, between ‘insiders’ and ‘outsiders’, Us and Them” (Hall 1997, p. 258). Therefore, ste- reotypes are used by the dominant group to clas- sify and exclude what is viewed as the Other. According to Dyer, hegemony or the establishment of normalcy (i.e. what is accepted as ‘normal’) uses stereotypes to construct an Other and make power inequalities appear natural and inevitable (cited in Hall 1997, 258). In this way, dominant Western representations of the Other are often stereotypes which continue to support and maintain unequal power relations. In art, both Stuart Hall and Lucy Lippard have noted that artists frequently incorporate stereotypes as a strategy to counter fixed assumptions; however, they have also both warned that this usage could also have the opposite effect (Hall 1997; Lippard 1990). Gómez-Peña’s parody of stereotypes is so extreme and exaggerated that the unconscious cultural associations are clearly made absurd and ridiculous for the viewer. Through a compilation of cultural projections, Gómez-Peña created absurd and grotesque Others, and thus exposed the exist- ence of these views in the collective unconscious of Anglo-American society. Furthermore, Gómez- Peña’s criticism of the “fraudulent history” of anthropologypopularizedtheproblemsanddebates within anthropology at this time, which culminated in the “crisis of representation” in the late 1980s. Anthropology and the “Crisis of Representation” In the late 1960s, anthropology’s duplicitous search for objective knowledge within a colonial power structure began to be denounced in several critical essays (Gough 1968; Lewis 1973). The critique culmi- nated in 1973 with the seminal work Anthropology and the Colonial Encounter edited by Talal Asad. Following Foucault’s assertions about truth as a historical condition embedded within a given power structure, Asad and others argued that anthro- pology was deeply intertwined with the politics of imperialism and colonial practices and, in effect, helped maintain power relationships between the colonial regime and indigenous populations by representing them as inferior and Other. Similar to Edward Said’s claims in Orientalism (9), Asad criticized the constructed Western views of Others and the unquestioned acceptance of Western dom- ination. By producing knowledge based on gender and racial power inequalities, Western hegemonic views of the Other were reaffirmed. These critiques about anthropology were a precursor to the “crisis of representation”, a term coined by Marcus and Fis-
- 39. 37 Teresa Chen cher (eds. 1986, p. 7), that has affected many social sciences and still continues to haunt the discipline of anthropology. This paradigm crisis forced anthro- pologists to become aware of the power structures involved in representing various cultures as well as issues of race, gender and class. Many anthropolo- gists and cultural theorists during this time criti- cally examined questions of authenticity, truth, and objectivity embedded in the discipline of anthro- pology and its ethnographic representations (eds. Clifford and Marcus 1986; Rabinow 1985). A significant critic is the filmmaker and post- colonial feminist theorist Trinh T. Minh-ha who challenged the objective truths of anthropology and the “speaking for”, or representation of other societies, through the subjective racial and gen- dered lens of the Western male. Trinh pointed out that all discussions about native societies were limited to “mainly a conversation of ‘us’ with ‘us’ about ‘them’, of the white man with the white man about the primitive-nature man ... in which ‘them’ is silenced” (Trinh 1989, pp. 65-67). The ‘primitive’ Other does not speak; the anthropologist speaks for him. Moreover, Trinh criticized many of the ethnographic writings of Malinowski, whom she refers to as “The Great Master”. The anthropolog- ical “master” not only made assumptions, but also drew conclusions about the lives of other humans and societies based on his own experiences and his own subjective world view. That what was consid- ered an objective and universal truth could actu- ally be a subjective view was a radically new con- cept for many anthropologists at the time. Trinh T. Minh-ha’s work in ethnography and film led her to challenge the prevalent concepts of eth- nography. Is it possible to be an objective observer? Does there exist one truth? Is authenticity repre- sented or invented? Trinh challenged the concept of a single viewpoint with an ultimate vision of the world. There are instead always multiple realities, multiple standpoints, multiple meanings for the concept ‘Woman’. She argued that conventional ethnographic filmmaking did not objectively rep- resent the Third World subject, and vehemently denounced the validity of ‘objective truth’: “There is no real – reality is something already classified by men, a ready made code” (Trinh 1991, p. 136). Using this code allowed writers and filmmakers to produce work that seemed ‘real’ because they followed the rules and expectations about what the ‘real’ should be or look like. Trinh’s first film Reassemblage (1982) contested these conventions and is both a commentary and a critique of eth- nographic film practices. Trinh stated in an inter- view with Nancy Chen that her intention was “not to speak about/just speak near by”, which was a radical change to conventional ethnographic doc- umentary film. Trinh also proposed that the audi- ence construct “their own film” from the film they have seen (Chen 1992, p. 91) in order to create new meanings and experiences for the film beyond what the filmmaker may have intended. Trinh T. Minh-ha’s writings and films were important in including ideas of self-reflection to the discipline of anthropology where multiple perspectives and the subjective role of the observer should be taken into account. Moreover, other artists explored similar ideas in their work, such as Fiona Tan.
- 40. 38 Interrogating ‘Objectivity’: The Artistic Strategies of Fiona Tan Type, archetype, stereotype. An irrational desire for order; or at least for the illusion thereof. However, I am constantly reminded that all my attempts at systematic order must be arbitrary, idiosyncratic and — quite simply — doomed to fail (Tan 2002, Countenance voice-over). In the quote above, Tan explains her view about classification and typing as well as the arbitrary nature of attempting any systematic order. Her critical examination of any type of categorizing or ordering, especially of people or cultures, is an important theme throughout her work. Tan works with the mediums of photography and film and is interested in the roles of history and memory on the present and the future. Tan’s work is an exten- sion of many of the concerns and concepts previ- ously described in this essay from Trinh T. Minh-ha. Similar to Gómez-Peña, Tan has experienced a mobile and culturally hybrid background. She was born in 1966 in Indonesia to a Chinese father and an Australian mother, but due to racist policies against ethnic Chinese in Indonesia, she grew up in Melbourne, Australia. She moved to the Nether- lands in 1988 in order to study art and currently lives in Amsterdam. Because of her personal back- ground and her context, her focus is concerned with ‘East-West’ themes rather than ‘North-South’ border issues like Gómez-Peña. In the next few sections, I present five artistic pieces from Fiona Tan in order to analyze related strategies and ideas and compare these with work from Guillermo Gómez-Peña. For an early film, a TV documentary called May You Live In Interesting Times (10), Fiona Tan vis- ited various Chinese relatives, who all lived in dif- ferent places around the world in order to question ideas of origin and cultural identity. At one point, she visits the village of her ancestors where every- one has the family name ‘Tan’. In the resulting filmed ‘family portrait’, the artist smiles into the camera in the middle of all the other Tans, but still does not seem to ‘belong’ (see Fig. 4). In the film, she exposed her personal quest to understand her own cultural origins, as well as the contrived nature of her search, reminiscent of ideas from Trinh T. Minh-ha. In another important earlier work, Facing Forward (1999),Tanappropriatedoriginalearly20thcentury film footage from the Amsterdam Filmmuseum Archives (Cooke 2000; Godfrey 2006). The footage had been filmed in various non-western locations such as rain forests in Papua New Guinea or cities in Japan and South East Asia. Most of the imagery Fig. 4: May You Live In Interesting Times by Fiona Tan, documentary film, 1997. Courtesy of the artist and Frith Street Gallery, London.
- 41. 39 Teresa Chen is problematic, because it appears to be made for people who would find the subjects ‘exotic,’ and in some cases, it is also clear, the films were made to survey, classify, and control the people in front of the camera (see Fig. 5b). For example, tribes-people are often instructed to line up, face forward (also the title of the work), or turn around to present their sides and backs to the camera. Tan’s montage makes the viewer aware of the different aesthetics of filming and also manages to make the viewer quite uncomfortable at times. The two inserted scenes of a cameraman with his camera (see Fig. 5a) from other archival footage are used in order to reveal another level to the filming process – who is filming, why is he filming, what do those feathers in his hair mean? With much of this material, one experiences a certain tension between the idea of observation and that of being observed. However, her critical approach also reveals poetic personal moments like two young girls who are smiling and laughing at the end of the film. Although the archival footage was originally silent, Tan wove a multi-layered soundtrack into her film. Sometimes she added natural sounds like animal or insect noises in the rainforest or instrumental music for atmosphere. In addition, there are two sections with voice-overs extracted from Italo Calvino’s Invisible Cities (1978), narrating a hypothetical conversation between the Venetian explorer Marco Polo and the emperor Kublai Khan who asks “You advance always with your head turned back?” or “Is what you see always behind you?” or “Does your journey take place only in the past?” The voice- overs illustrated Tan’s interest in the crucial roles of history and memory of the past on the present and the future. With her editing of found archival film footage together with a soundtrack and voice- overs, Tan critically examined ethnographic film practices and documentary film’s authoritative voice and created a complex, critical and yet per- sonal view of the colonial practices of categoriza- tion and identification. In this way, Tan’s editing process also implements a type of “reverse anthro- pology” strategy, like Gómez-Peña. Both artists make the viewer aware of the power imbalances involved in colonial ethnographic practices – the ‘objective’ ethnographic observer cannot and does not exist. Unlike Gómez-Peña, Tan’s method is not immediately confrontational or exaggerated; Fig. 5a and 5b: Facing Forward by Fiona Tan, video projection, 1999. Courtesy of the artist and Frith Street Gallery, London.
- 42. 40 instead she uses poetic, subtle imagery and film editing and sound to communicate her critical view to the viewer. For her installation Countenance (2002), Tan collected over 90 minutes of filmed portraits of approximately 250 people living in Berlin (Cotter and Nairne 2005) (11). The pictures were catego- rized according to the professions of the subjects and filmed in static poses so that the images seemed more like a series of photographs; however, the people’s slight movements suddenly brought the images to life and communicated a personal or human aspect of the subject to the observer. The black and white film was a conscious reference to August Sander’s portfolio work People of the 20th Century where he tried to categorize and photo- graph all the types of people living at that time in Germany. Sander’s long-term project began at the turn of the century and continued until the 1950’s, and consisted of more than 40000 images. He attempted to record and archive all of German life and created his own pseudo-ethnographic catego- ries based on his view of society’s hierarchy and its “portfolio of archetypes” consisting of: The Skilled Tradesman, The Woman, Classes and Professions and,hisfinalcategory,TheLastPeople(thesick, the insane) (Lange 2002). Tan transforms this investi- gation into a sociological study of people in Berlin. Tan recognised that her project, like Sander’s, was impossible, but she presented a comment on social order and classification and consciously created a tension between the supposed objectivity of Sand- er’s project and her own subjective approach. She filmed people, individually, in groups, in families and roughly followed Sander’s categories, except for her last category called “Others”, which included pensioners, the unemployed, drug addicts, politi- cians, curators and artists. However, the personal moments, the details, the passing of time, and the intimacy of the portraits were more important than the categories. In addition, Tan’s voice-over clari- fied her position that all attempts for systematic ordering are invariably subjective and can never be successful, and is also reminiscent of Trinh T. Minh-ha’s remark: “Despite our desperate, eternal attempt to separate, contain, and mend, catego- ries always leak” (Trinh 1989, p. 94). Tan exposed the non-objective nature of categorisation while Gómez-Peña exaggerated the collective uncon- scious ethnic stereotypes of many Anglo-Ameri- cans: the concerns were similar, but the aesthetics and the outcomes were very different. In another work entitled Lapse of Memory (2007), Tan further examined questions of truth and fic- tion and how post-colonial history influence perceptions of the present and future. Tan con- structed the identity of a fictional person: a con- fused, old man – Henry – who is living alone in a beautiful historical building and has not left for a long time (see Fig. 6). In the film, the camera Fig. 6: Lapse of Memory by Fiona Tan, HD installation, 2007. Courtesy of the artist and Frith Street Gallery, London.
- 43. 41 Teresa Chen follows his simple daily routine and his eccentric rituals. By describing the action happening in the film as a voice-over, the contrived nature of the situation and the character is emphasized. In addition to Henry, the viewer also sees fragments of a previously opulent interior décor, which is actually the Royal Pavilion in Brighton (UK), a strange colonial building with a classical Indian facade and interiors decorated in Chinese and Japanese style. Built in 1815 by King George IV, it is one of the best preserved examples of Chinese architecture and design in the world. However, neither the king nor his architect was ever in Asia and the pavilion is a colonial fantasy, built com- pletely on cultural projections of the Orient. Tan’s fictional character is a reflection of this strange building. Offered a variety of possible truths and possible fictions, the viewer must decide what has happened and who this person could be. In this piece, Tan examines the colonial situation, and reveals the role of fantasy which has constructed the exotic Other. There are clear similarities to the performance works of Gómez-Peña as he also explores and exposes ethnic cultural projections. Fig. 7: Disorient by Fiona Tan, HD Video installation, 2009. Courtesy of the artist, Frith Street Gallery, London and Wako Works of Art, Tokyo.
- 44. 42 However, Gómez-Peña seeks an emotional and cathartic effect with his confrontational manner and extreme exaggerations of stereotypes, while Tan gently prompts the viewer into questioning what could be involved in constructing cultural identities, hoping that each individual can recog- nize the history of colonial representation and its effects on the present as well as the future. One of Tan’s recent works is a video installation entitled Disorient (2009) (12) and composed of two screens facing each other. One large screen shows images from the interior of an exotic showroom where rows of objects are displayed including ani- mals in formaldehyde, spices and foods, Asian dec- orations and other Oriental looking items (see Fig. 7). The other smaller screen on the opposite side presents contemporary images from various Asian countries including their inhabitants. Tan con- trasts the alluring illusion of exotic merchandise where culture is commercial production with more documentary footage of poverty, pollution, land- scape, and urban development. Also on the smaller screen, edited together with the contemporary doc- umentary footage, are images of the exotic show- room space being dismantled. Whilst watching this film, it is revealed that the exotic Oriental storage area is actually an illusion, a stage set-up in the Dutch pavilion itself, with the closing shot a view of all the exotic objects, looking more like cheap junk, deposited outside the Dutch pavilion. A voice-over consisting solely of quotes from The Travels of Marco Polo accompanies the two videos describing his impressions from his journeys. In a previously described work Facing Forward (1999), Tan references Marco Polo by quoting Italo Calvino’s texts that described his travels. She also believes that Marco Polo represents an ideal trav- eler, and also that his seven-centuries old descrip- tions have greatly influenced how the west thinks about the east (Dutch Pavilion Press Release 2009). Furthermore, I claim that the title “Diso- rient” also contains several layers of meaning. The root “orient” refers to direction, position or orientation, but Tan is also clearly referring to the ‘Orient’. With the prefix “dis-” preceding “orient”, the ‘Orient’ as well as orientation is negated, revealing Tan’s intention to expose the distortion of Western cultural projections of the ‘Orient’. Tan has described her goal as to “continue to exper- iment and develop a filmic language that could per- haps be described as simultaneously constructing and deconstructing – employing the tricks of the trade and at the same time exposing them, laying them bare… I am also interested in the slipper- iness of truth or truths” (Bos 2009, p. 23). Tan’s quote is similar to Trinh T. Minh-ha’s writings and films. Both use various editing techniques in order to present multiple perspectives and views, as well as to expose the subjective nature of what could be real or true. Similarly, Tan continued: “I want to empower the subject, empower the viewer, and to bring aspects to the surface, to create a cer- tain visibility, if you like, to foster awareness of our interpretation of the images that surround us” (Bos 2009, p. 25). Both Tan and Trinh deconstruct the film-making process in order to expose the relationship between truth and fiction, and, at the same time, encourage the viewer to construct the meaning from what he or she has seen.
- 45. 43 Teresa Chen Conclusion Through a comparative analysis of specific works from Guillermo Gómez-Peña and Fiona Tan, I have shown that there are many correlations in their respective artistic practices; however, there are still crucial differences. Despite their similar interest in borders, their references reflect the hemispheres in which they locate themselves: Tan often considers the relationship between East / West, whereas Gómez-Peña’s concern is mostly between North / South. Gómez-Peña’s experiences are connected to his Mexican background and the USA’s immigration issues with Mexico. Further- more, as an artist, he has been influenced by the political and cultural atmosphere of the 1980s and 1990s when activist art and identity politics were important issues. Gomez-Peña is involved in an impressive variety of interdisciplinary cultural production activities, mostly in North America. Tan’s experiences have been quite different: she has been formed by a European and less politically confrontational environment, and her aesthetics and artistic approach seem to be more compatible to a mediation of the contemporary global situa- tion as well as more conventional ‘art world’ exhi- bitions, albeit international ones. Gómez-Peña’s artistic strategy of “reverse anthro- pology” specifically aims to reverse concepts from anthropology and ethnographic methodology that previously defined ‘objective’ knowledge of the Other. In comparison, Tan’s approach corresponds to anthropology’s “crisis of representation” where ideas of authenticity, truth and objectivity were questioned and power structures in representa- tions of cultures were revealed. Furthermore, Tan’s work has correlations to writings from Trinh T. Minh-ha which emphasized ideas of self-reflec- tion and the subjective role of the observer as well as the active role of the audience. Although her work could be seen as political in nature, it is also poetic and her intention is not specifically an activist one. Conversely, Gómez-Peña sees himself as a political activist, with a myriad of cultural activities and highly charged, provocative perfor- mances which are an extension of his own extrav- agant and extraverted personality. His strategy to present over-exaggerated stereotypes based on cultural projections is simple and direct. In con- trast, Tan’s works are complex and involve the viewer intellectually; she interrogates concepts of objective truth and reality in order to expose subjective and historical connections between power and knowledge. Tan’s artistic strategies are inspired by the mediums of film and photography, and she often challenges the truth of images and representations. However, because of the com- plexity and the relatively subtle nuances of her critique, some viewers may not always recognize the ideas behind her works. In this essay, I examined the connection between Foucault’s concepts about power/knowledge in connection with anthropology’s colonial heritage by comparing the strategic approaches of Guill- ermo Gómez-Peña and Fiona Tan, two artists who have interrogated the history of anthropology in their art. The spectacle of exhibiting ‘native’ people in ethnographic displays in order to estab- lish Western culture’s delusions of superiority motivated Gómez-Peña to create and produce sev- eral significant performance installations during the 1990s. Likewise, the “crisis of representation”
- 46. 44 where anthropologists became aware of the power structures involved in representing various cul- tures inspired Tan to critically examine questions of authenticity and objectivity embedded in the act of classifying people as well as their representa- tions in film and photography. Thus, through their respective artistic practices, both artists expose the subjectivity inherent in ethnological practices and reveal correlations between power, knowledge and truth in discourses about the Other. References Books and Articles — — Ang, I 2001, ‘Can One Say No to Chineseness? Pushing the Limits of the Diasporic Paradigm’ in On Not Speaking Chinese, Routledge, New York, pp. 37-51. — — Asad, T (ed.) 1973, Anthropology and the Colonial Encounter, Ithaca Press, London. — — Bos, S 2009, ‘Other Facets of the Same Globe. A conversa- tion between Fiona Tan and Saskia Bos’ in Fiona Tan: Dis- orient, ed. M. Bloemheuvel, Kehrer Verlag, Heidelberg, pp. 22-27. — — Calvino, I 1978, Invisible Cities, Harvest Books, New York. — — Chen, N 1992, ‘Speaking Nearby’: A Conversation with Trinh T. Minh-ha’ in Visual Anthropology Review, vol. 8, no. 1, pp. 82-91. — — Clifford, J & Marcus, GE (eds) 1986, Writing Culture: The Poetics and Politics of Ethnography, University of Cali- fornia Press, Berkeley. — — Cooke, L 2000, ‘Fiona Tan: Re-Take’ in van den Berg, M & Götz, GF (eds.), Fiona Tan – Scenario, Vandenberg & Wall- roth, Amsterdam, pp. 20-61. — — Cotter, S & Nairne, A 2005, ‘Preface’ in Fiona Tan: Counte- nance, Modern Art Oxord, Oxford, pp. 5-7. — — Dutch Pavilion, 2009. Amsterdam-based film and video artist Fiona Tan represents the Netherlands at the 53rd International Art Exhibition of La Biennale di Venezia with a new audio-visual installation entitled ‘Disorient’. Press release, 18. May 2009, available at: <http://www.e-flux.com/ shows/view/6781> accessed 10.02.2011. — — Foucault, M 1980, Power/Knowledge: Selected Interviews and Other Writings, 1972-1977, Pantheon, New York. — — Fusco, C 1994, ‘The Other History of Intercultural Perfor- mance’, The Drama Review, vol. 38, no. 1, pp. 143-167. — — Gómez-Peña, G & Sifuentes, R 1997, Temple of Confessions: Mexican Beasts and Living Santos, PowerHouse Books, New York. — — Gómez-Peña, G 2000, Dangerous Border Crossers: The Artist Talks Back, Routledge, New York. — — Gómez-Peña, G 2005, Ethno-Techno: Writings on Perfor- mance, Activism and Pedagogy, Routledge, New York. — — Godfrey, M 2006, ‘Facing Forward: Backwards into the Future’ in Coetzee, M & Lagos, L (eds.), Memorials of Iden- tity - New Media from the Rubell Family Collection, Rubell Family Collection, Miami, Florida, pp. 132-146. — — Gough, K 1968, ‘Anthropology: Child of Imperialism’, Monthly Review, vol. 19, no. 11, pp. 12-27. — — Gramsci, A 2000, The Antonio Gramsci Reader: Selected Writings, 1916-1935, New York University Press, New York. — — Greenhalgh, P 1988, Ephemeral Vistas: The Expositions Universelles, Great Exhibitions and World’s Fairs, 1851- 1939, Manchester University Press, Manchester and New York. — — Gómez-Peña, G, Gómez-Peña’s La Pocha Nostra, available at <http://www.pochanostra.com/who/> accessed 20. February 2010. — — Hall, S 1986, ‘Gramsci’s Relevance for the Study of Race and Ethnicity’, Journal of Communication Inquiry, vol. 10, no. 2, pp. 5-27. — — Hall, S 1997, ‘The Spectacle of the ‘Other’’ in Representa- tion: Cultural Representations and Signifying Practices, Sage, London, pp. 225-279. — — Hall, S 1997, ‘The Work of Representation’ in Representa- tion: Cultural Representations and Signifying Practices, Sage, London, pp. 15-74. — — Kirshenblatt-Gimblett, B 1991, ‘Objects of Ethnography’ in Karp, I & Lavine, S (eds.), Exhibiting Cultures: The Poetics and Politics of Museum Display, Smithsonian Institution Press, Washington, DC, pp. 386-443. — — Kuper, A 1996, Anthropology and Anthropologists: The Modern British School, Routledge, New York. — — Lange, S 2002, August Sander - Menschen des 20 Jahrhun- derts: Studienband (German Edition), Schirmer/Mosel Verlag Gmbh, Munich. — — Lewis, D 1973, ‘Anthropology and Colonialism’, Current Anthropology, vol. 14, no. 5, pp. 581-602. — — Lippard, L 1990, Mixed Blessings: New Art in a Multicul- tural America, Pantheon Books, New York.
- 47. 45 Teresa Chen — — Marcus, G & Fischer, M (eds) 1986, Anthropology as Cul- tural Critique, University of Chicago Press, Chicago. — — Orvell, M & Ibieta G 1996, Inventing America: Readings in Identity and Culture, St. Martin’s Press, New York. — — Rabinow, P 1985, ‘Discourse and Power: On the Limits of Ethnographic Texts’, Dialectical Anthropology, vol. 10, no. 1, pp. 1-14. — — Smith, S & Young PD 1997, ‘The Early History of Anthropo- logical Thought: Unilineal Evolution and Diffusion’ in Cul- tural Anthropology: Understanding a World in Transition, Allyn & Bacon, Boston, pp. 70-106. — — Spivak, GC 1988, ’Can the Subaltern Speak?’ in Ashcroft, B & Griffiths, G (eds.) 2006, The Post-Colonial Studies Reader, Routledge, London, pp. 28-38. — — Trinh, TM 1991, When the Moon Waxes Red: Representa- tion, Gender and Cultural Politics, Routledge, New York. — — Trinh, TM 1989, Woman, Native, Other: Writing Postcoloni- ality and Feminism, Indiana University Press, Bloomington. — — von Bismarck, B 2002 ‘Of All the Images in the World, Which Am I then Left With?’ in Fiona Tan: Akte 1, De Pont Foundation for Contemporary Art, Tilburg, pp. 73 -97. — — Wiarda, A 2002, ‘Seeing, Observing, Thinking: On Time and Place in the Work of Fiona Tan’, A-Prior, no. 8, pp. 94-103. Films — — Race, the Floating Signifier with Stuart Hall 1996, Film, Directed by Sut Jhally, Media Education Foundation. — — Reassemblage 1982, Film, Directed by Trinh T. Minh-ha, Women Make Movies. Art Works — — Gómez-Peña, G and Fusco, C 1992, The Couple in a Cage: Undiscovered Amerinidians. — — Gómez-Peña, G 1997-99, The Mexterminator Project. — — Gómez-Peña, G 1999-2002, The Living Museum of Fetishized Identities. — — Gómez-Peña, G 1994-96, The Temple of Confessions. — — Tan, F 2002, Countenance. — — Tan, F, 2009, Disorient. — — Tan, F 1999, Facing Forward. — — Tan, F 2007, Lapse of Memory. — — Tan, F 1997, May You Live in Interesting Times. Endnotes 1 Following Karl Marx’s ideas of society based on economic class hierarchy, Antonio Gramsci proposed that prevailing norms of a society are not natural and inevitable, but arti- ficial social constructs used in social-class domination by the ruling class. 2 Michel Foucault’s theories addressed the relationship between power and knowledge and how they are used as a method of social control through institutional structures. 3 Pygmy is an English word indicating shortness of stature that was applied to indigenous ethnic groups, particularly in Central Africa, who were on average less than 150 cm tall. 4 A well-documented case concerns Saartje Baartman also known as “Hottentot Venus”, an African woman who was exhibited semi-naked in a cage at various freak shows in England and France during the early 19th century. Her “native” body had the enlarged buttocks characteristic for certain peoples of South Africa and confirmed ideas about the “primitive sexuality” of non-European women. After her early death in 1815, “scientists” dissected her body and displayed her preserved genitals and skeleton at the Musée de l’Homme in Paris until 1974. Her remains were finally returned to South Africa in 2002. 5 The word ‘vato’ is Chicano slang for guy or dude. 6 Roughly translated means ‘The Holy Americanized Mex- ican from Aztlan.’ 7 The Terminator films are a series of popular science fic- tion movies where the human race struggles to survive against an artificially intelligent machine network. Arnold Schwarzenegger portrayed the original “Terminator” char- acter in 1984, a cyborg robotic assassin who is sent to termi- nate or destroy the future leader of the human resistance. He also starred in the sequels Terminator 2: Judgement Day (1991), and Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines (2003) and Terminator 5: Genisys (2015). 8 According to Gómez-Peña, the term La Pocha Nostra is a “Spanglish neologism” meaning either “our impurities” or “the cartel of cultural bastards” (2005, p. 78). A Pocho or pocha, originally describing a fruit that is discoloured or rotting, is Americanised Mexican. The term is often used disparagingly for describing someone who has lost his/her Mexican cultural roots. 9 Edward Said’s seminal book Orientalism written in 1978, challenged Western perceptions and representations of the East. Said contends that the ‘Orient’ is constructed by and in relation to the West and exists as a mirror image of what is inferior, and alien or Other. 10 The title of the work has many layers and meanings. What sounds like a pleasant wish ‘May You Live in Interesting Times’ is supposedly an ancient Chinese curse, as Chinese people always want to have a very quiet life. However, no authentic Chinese saying like this has been found, leading many to believe that it actually originated from the English or the Americans themselves in the 1930’s. 11 First presented at the Documenta 11, Kassel in 2002. 12 First presented at the Dutch Pavilion at the 53rd Venice Biennial in 2009.
- 49. 47 Derealisation, Cinema and the Turbulence of Information Kit Wise Paul Virilio’s essay ‘The Overexposed City’ (1984) provides a basic frame- work for an analysis of the turbulence of the contemporary city. His essay introduces the concept of “derealisation”, which he claims is a consequence of the flow of digital information as light. Virilio identifies a point where ‘the crisis of the dimension… appears as the crisis of the whole’: cities are extensions of our experience of the world, and they are no longer ‘real’. He describes this crisis as: ‘the phenomenon of “derealisation” which can affect our means of expression, our modes of representation and our information.’ Three aspects of this derealisation can be identified: The derealisation of means of expression (the collapse of language), The derealisation of the modes of representation (the overexposure of material/space ‘as’ light) and finally,the derealisation of information (globalisation and the legacy of colo- nialism). Of these three facets, the derealisation of information is the most troubling in regard to the turbulence of contemporary societies. For Virilio, derealised information is associated with a collapse of ethics: an inability to find stable ethical coordinates. Further, Virilio associates this collapse with the unreality of film or what he calls ‘cinematism’. Within this essay I will address this ethical turbulence, through the notion of the “remnant”.
- 50. 48 In The Overexposed City, Virilio describes an “aesthetics of the disappearance,” in which we experience space primarily through time-based media images, rather than corporeal reality. For example, TV news has come to create our spa- tial understanding of ‘the world’, rather than our actual travels or other first-hand experiences. He suggests that transmutation of representa- tions has taken place From the aesthetics of the appearance of stable images, present pre- cisely because of their static nature, to the aes- thetics of the disappearance of unstable images, present because of their motion (cinematic, cine- magraphic). (Virilio 1984) What does Virilio mean by this transmutation, and why is it ‘cinematic’? To answer this question, I will consider the language and imagery of his essay in detail. Virilio begins with an account of the technologisation of the city in order to increase its security. The example he gives lists surveillance: counter-terrorist mea- sures, such as CCTV and “the sudden proliferation of cameras, radar and detectors at mandatory pas- sageways” (Virilio 1984). Virilio suggests that the movie camera is the ultimate form for these sys- tems. He writes, “The camera has become our best inspector,” John F. Kennedy declared a short while before he was killed on a street in Dallas. Actually, the camera allows us to participate in – live on tape or computer – certain political events and optical phenomenon. For example, the phenomenon of breaking into effraction, in which the city lets itself be seen through surveillance, and the phe- nomena of breaking apart diffraction, in which its image is reflected beyond the atmosphere to the ends of space. This overexposure attracts our attention. [Emphasis in the original] (Virilio 1984) The terms diffraction, effraction and overexposure introduce key features of derealisation. Diffrac- tion refers to a specific optical event, the apparent bending of light as it passes through small aper- tures. This can cause a single ray of light to appear to radiate in a circular pattern. Effraction literally means “a breaking into a house, store, etc., by force; forcible entry”, in the sense of a burglary, it also suggests the permeability of an object to light, but in the opposite direction: light breaks in, rather than out (1). This disrupts boundaries, and the criminal connotations of this are impor- tant to the understanding of a further key term, overexposure: Replacing the old distinctions between public and private or ‘habitation’ and ‘circulation’ is an ‘overexposure’ because the gap between ‘near’ and ‘far’ ceases to exist, in the same way that the gap between ‘micro’ and ‘macro’ can disappear through the lens of a scanning electron microscope. (Virilio 1984) For Virilio, the collapse of public and private can be understood as what happens when the private is exposed to the public; habitation violated by circu- lation. What is striking about Virilio’s description is that the transparency or permeability that dif- fraction and effraction create is aligned with crime or violation. The camera, as a machine that medi- ates light, is therefore a means to that end. Is film then a crime?
- 51. 49 Kit Wise For Virilio cinematism implies a criminal act: Once the polis inaugurated a political theatre, with the agora and the forum, but today nothing remains but a cathode ray screen, with its shadows and specters of a com- munity in the process of disappearing. Is ‘cinematism’ really the last appearance of urbanism, the last image of an urbanism without urbanity, where tact and contact yield to televisual impact? (Virilio 1984) Unlike the democratic, civic and purposeful spaces of the classical city, the new overexposed city brings everyone together as a ‘shadow or spectre of community’, one that is already fading or ‘disappearing’. Indeed, urbanity, understood as a community with shared ideals of civilized behaviour, is replaced by its image: urbanism, a collection of people who share only their location. The implication is that society has dissolved and communal ethical coordinates have been lost. Cinematism for Virilio is therefore a collapse of the social order. Our understanding of cinematism is extended in the closing paragraphs of the essay: From the aesthetics of the appearance of stable images, present precisely because of their static nature, to the aesthetics of the disappearance of unstable images, present because of their motion (cinematic, cine- matographic), a transmutation of representa- tion has taken place. The emergence of form and volume intended to exist as long as their physical material would allow has been replaced by images whose only duration is one of retinal persistence. (Virilio 1984) ForVirilio,the“aestheticsofdisappearance”isboth the fleeting quality of moving, light-based images (such as cinema) as well as the disappearance of societal norms and expectations. A “transmutation of representation” has taken place: the transforma- tion of architecture into film, and the cinematic has replaced the spatial. “Ultimately, it seems that Hol- lywood much more than Venturi’s Las Vegas, merits a study of urbanism.” (Virilio 1984) Let us consider an artwork, for example Xanadu, a high definition digital video that combined cinema with a sculptural component. The sculptural component was a curved lip, or lunette of mirrored glass; positioned at a 45-degree angle to the wall at the bottom of the screen. This mirror reflected the screen image above, and cre- ated an extension of the frame of the projection, thus the space of the film image was expanded. So when a waterfall was shown on screen, the mirror lip sculpture seemed to reflect a kind of liquid, giving the impression that the turbulent waters ended in a lake (2). Xanadu, a work of mine from 2010, can be under- stood as a work where spatial coordinates have been replaced by cinematic events. The work is a synthesis of numerous viewpoints and perspec- tives. Still-image components have been artifi- cially unified through sleight of hand, tricking the eye into assembling a whole. The animated
- 52. 50 sections – such as a flock of birds that fly across the scene – reinforce this sense of cohesion. Like Las Vegas, to which Virlio alludes, Xanadu com- presses multiple iconic architectural and land- scape features into a synthetic whole. The work extends the confines of the traditional rectangular frame of cinema into the space of the gallery, through the mirrored ellipse at the lower edge of the projection. The mirror uses reflection to stretch the space of the screen and in a Virilian sense, re-models the space through light. This is also the function of cinema, where artificial spa- tial effects are created through projected light- based images. In Xanadu I do not supersede the physical space as completely as Virilio suggests the constructs of Hollywood and Cinecittà do, but it does suggest that: The city of living cinema where sets and reality, cadastral urban planning and cine- matic footage planning […] merge to the point of delirium. (Virilio 1984) However, as this performative perceptual dereal- isation suggests, it is important to consider the simultaneous ethical derealisation that he identi- fies in a discussion of Hollywood: Here, more than anywhere, advanced tech- nologies have converged to create a synthetic space-time. The Babylon of film ‘dereali- sation,’ the industrial zone of pretence, Hollywood built itself up neighbourhood by neighbourhood, avenue by avenue, upon the twilight of appearance, the success of Fig 1 and 2. Xanadu: an Experimenta Festival Commission, Melbourne, 2010 by Kit Wise HD single channel video, 5’50”. Japan and Italy, found digital images and digital video from Getty Images.
- 53. Random documents with unrelated content Scribd suggests to you:
- 54. a worn memorandum-book of her father’s, in which all the battles he was engaged in were chronicled after a soldier’s fashion; the day of the month noted, the name of the place, which added another to our wreath of glories, illuminated by the colours of his regiment rudely indicated by a star or an “hurra,” in a peculiarly cramped hand—she would become excited, and weave imaginary trophies, calling to her broken-hearted nurse to bring her the green laurel which her father loved to distribute among his comrades; these fever fits, however, were at long intervals, and brief; gradually as “the spring,” the physician had spoken of, advanced, the mingled hopes of this world, which are but as the faint shadowings of the great HEREAFTER, strengthened and spiritualized; and her thoughts were prayer, prayer to Him the Saviour and Redeemer; prayerful and patient she was, gentle and grateful; her perceptions which had been, for a time, clouded, quickened as her end drew near; she saw the furniture departing, piece by piece; at last she missed her father’s sash and sword; and when poor Mary would have framed excuses, she placed her quivering fingers on her lips, and spoke more than she had done for many days. “God will reward you for your steadfast love of a poor parentless girl; you spared my treasure as long as you could, caring nothing for yourself, working and starving, and all for me. Oh, that the world could know, and have belief in the fervent enduring virtues that sanctify such rooms as this, that decorate bare walls, and make a bright and warming light when the coal is burnt to ashes, and the thin candle, despite our watching, flickers before the night is done. I have not thought it night, when I felt your hand or heard you breathe.” Oh! what liberal charities are there of which the world knows nothing! How generous, and how mighty in extent and value, are the gifts given by the poor to the poor! It is useless as well as painful to note what followed; she faded and faded; yet the weaker her body grew, the clearer grew her mind, the more deep became her faith; she would lie for hours, sleepless, with her eyes fixed on what we should call vacancy—but which, to her, seemed a bright world of angels, with the Redeemer in the midst— murmuring prayers, and broken fragments of hymns, and listening to
- 55. words of peace which no ear but her own could hear—her mind only returning to this world to bless Mary, when she came from her daily toil, or with the fruits of that solicitation, which she employed for her sake, to the last. The dog, too, the poor old dog, that had partaken of her bounty, shared in her poverty, and would stand with his paws on the bed, looking with his dim eyes into her face, and licking her hand whenever she moved or moaned. It was again the anniversary of the battle of Toulouse, and Lucy remembered it; she begged the old woman not to leave her; it would be her last day; her mind wandered a little; and then she asked for a bough of laurel—and to sit up—and Mary went out to seek for a few green leaves. As she past hastily along, she met James Hardy stumping joyously onwards, and talking to himself, as if poor old John Coyne, who had been dead a year, was by his side; she saw he had something green in his hand, and she asked him to share it with her,
- 56. for a poor girl, her “young lady,” the sergeant-major’s daughter, who was dying! The veteran did as she desired; but the bow was yew, not laurel. Well versed in omens, she returned it to him, burst into tears, and ran on. He had heard that Miss Lucy was ill; but age is often forgetful; he had not thought of it; yet now, the memory of the past rushed into his heart, and he discovered so quickly where “Irish Mary” lived, that when she was home again, with a fresh green sprig of laurel, James Hardy was weeping bitterly by Lucy’s side, while Lucy was in an ecstacy of joy. “Her father,” she said, “had come for her; there should be no more sorrow, no more pain; no more want for Mary or for her; her dear father had come for her.” By a strong effort, she laid her head on James Hardy’s shoulder, and grasped her nurse’s hard, honest hand. “I come, my FATHER!” she exclaimed, and all was over. “To die so, in her prime, her youth, her beauty; to be left to die, because they say there’s no cure for it; THEY NEVER TRIED TO CURE HER!” exclaimed the nurse, between her bursts of grief—“no place to shelter her—no one to see to her—no proper food, or air, or care—my heart’s jewel—who cared for all, when she had it! Still, the Lord is merciful; another week, and I should have had nothing but a drop of cold water to moisten her lips, and no bed for her to lie on. I kept that to the last, anyhow; and now it may go; it must go; small loss; what matter what comes of the likes of me, when such as her could have no help! I’ll beg from door to door, ’till I raise enough to lay her by her father’s side, in the churchyard of ould Chelsea.” But that effort, at all events, was not needed; the hospital was astir; the sergeant-major was remembered; and the church-bell tolled when Lucy was laid in her father’s grave, in the Churchyard of Old Chelsea.
- 58. L’ENVOY. The reader of this little book must not close it with a sad aspect. Thank God, there are few griefs without some counterbalancing comforts; and this afflicting subject, so long without hope, is now FULL OF HOPE. The contrasts of life, the lights and shadows of existence, are sometimes so strong as to be absolutely painful; yet their strength and rapidity of change are, in many cases, blessings. Our church bell the other morning had been tolling, at intervals, for a funeral; the morning was dull and clouded, and the sound, instead of rising through the atmosphere, boomed heavily and gloomily along it. A cesssation followed: I was so occupied that I hardly noted how long it was, when, suddenly, the joy bells struck up, ringing out such
- 59. merry music that I remembered, at once, there was a wedding going forward that day; a right gay bridal; rank, fashion, and wealth; love also, I had been told, was, of a surety, there; all that young hearts desire bring gathered together; and the bells again and again rang forth, until the air vibrated. At first the change was very painful; so sudden, and startling, and jarring, that I longed to shut it out; but when I opened my window and looked forth, the contrast of sight was as great as was that of sound; the clouds were floating away in the distance, and around us all was light! I was almost angry with myself for feeling so immediately happy; but, after the lapse of a few minutes, the heaviness of the past was superseded by the joyfulness of the present. The evening came in due time, with its sober hues and tones, and I had leisure to think over the doleful knell and the marriage ringings; and then, indeed, I saw, with gratitude to Him who orders all things for the best, how wise it is that the tear should be followed by the smile, and that cause for sorrow should be succeeded by motive for joy! How many and how marvellous are the changes that ten years have wrought. New sympathies have been awakened; a new spirit has been hovering above us and around us, with “healing on its wings.” Ten years ago—women and children slaved in our coal mines, degraded far below the level of “brutes that perish;” women, harnessed to their loads, crawling like reptiles along damps and slimes, underneath the earth: children, whose weak and “winking” eyes had never seen the light, with minds as dark as the strata wherein they toiled! Ten years ago—the loom, too, hid its victims far away out of Humanity’s sight, in the sole keeping of those who, in their thirst for “gold, more gold,” made their alchemy of infant sinews, and sweats from the brow of age. Ten years ago—the shopman—in the hot summer time, centred in the crowded thoroughfare, where dust and air so closely mingle that they are inhaled together from sunrise to midnight—laboured for eighteen hours; an item of God’s creation for whom there was no care; never, during the six days of his master’s week, seeing the faces of his children, save in sleep, and too worn, too weary, when the sabbath
- 60. came, to find it a day of rest. How long was the prayer unanswered, — “Give me one hour of rest from toil, From daily toil for daily bread; Untwisting Labour’s heavy coil From round the heart and head!” Ten years ago—no voice was raised for mercy to the lone sempstress; sure “slave of the lamp;” working from “weary chime to chime;” bearing her cross in solitude—toiling, while starving, for the few soiled pence, the very touch of which would be contamination to the kidded hands of tawdry footmen; these poor women sunk into their graves, they and their famished children, unmissed of any, for there were none to ask where they were gone. Ten years ago—and the governess, in age, in poverty, in sickness, had no refuge—no shelter, even from a storm that might have been a passing one. Her life of labour—labour of head, eyes, hands, and tongue; toil without rest— uncheered, unappreciated, unrecompensed, which left “No leisure to be gay or glad,” followed by a deserted sick bed; a death, unmarked by any kindly eye, and a coffin grudged for its cost. Such was her too common lot! Ten years ago, the poor dressmaker fagged out her life; fainting during her brief minutes of “rest;” standing when sleepy, while one, of more robust strength than her companions, stalked about the thronged and ill-ventilated work-room, till past midnight, touching those whose fingers relax, and whispering the warning sound—“Wake up—wake up!” Need we prolong this list—this contrast, appalling yet glorious, of the present time with ten years ago? One more must be added to it presently. Ten years have, indeed, wrought many and marvellous changes, A cry has been raised throughout the Empire, NOT BY THE POOR BUT FOR THE
- 61. POOR; not by the oppressed, but for them! It was a righteous cry, and holy are the sympathies it has awakened; sympathies which convey our superfluous riches to that storehouse where neither moth nor rust can corrupt; convincing us that, while a closed heart is never happy, a hand open as day to melting charity, secures a mightier reward than the wealth of Crœsus can purchase! There is, then, one newly-awakened sympathy to be yet added to the LIST, of which, in preceding remarks, I have given only an abridgement. Ten years ago—nay, THREE years ago—the poor woman or man, who had been stricken with CONSUMPTION was left to perish. For her or for him there was literally “no hope.” Every other ailment was cared for—might be “taken in time.” But this terrible disease was, like the leprosy of old, or the plague in modern times—a signal for the sufferer to be deserted, abandoned in despair. Blessed be the God of mercy, such is not the case now; a “new sympathy,” has been awakened, and, by the aid of a merciful Providence, it has spread widely! An establishment, hitherto conducted on a small scale, but hereafter to be in a degree commensurate with the WANT, exists in this Metropolis, where the patient will not apply for help in vain. It is sufficiently notorious that nearly all the great projects which have given pre-eminence to this country, and have made it—as it has been, is, and, by God’s help, ever will be—the envy and admiration of surrounding states, have been the births of private enterprise. It is so in science, in literature, in the arts, and, above all, in charity. Some one man, more thoughtful, more energetic, and more indefatigable than the great mass of his fellow men, stirs the hearts of others, sets himself and them to the great work of improvement, or mercy—and the thing is done. If we recur to the several leading public charities, we shall find that all, or nearly all, of them, have thus originated; the names of their founders have been handed down to posterity, and individuals, comparatively insignificant and obscure, are classed as benefactors to mankind, entitled to, and receiving, the gratitude of a whole people. Thus the name of a poor player, whose monument is at Dulwich, has been made famous for ages; that of a humble sea-captain is
- 62. identified with the preservation of the lives of tens of thousands of foundlings; while that of a simple miniature painter is for ever linked with the history of practical “Benevolence.” The list might include nearly the whole of the charities of London, which, from similar small sources, have become mighty waters—spreading, healing, fertilizing, and blessing! The absence of a hospital for the relief and cure of consumptive patients, was a national reproach; when, happily, exertions which followed the efforts of a single individual removed it. He was without rank or fortune to give weight and strength to the cause he had undertaken; he was a member of a profession which necessarily occupied much time and thought—entailed daily labour from morn till night—and is, indeed, supposed, however falsely, to check and chill the sympathies of the natural heart, engendering indifference to human suffering. Most happily, his mind and heart were both rightly directed: in him the conviction of what ought to be was followed by a resolution that it should be; his generous and merciful feelings were not limited to good intentions: he added energy to zeal, and industry to stern resolve; and, in a word, the mighty object has been accomplished. [26a] The Institution, which originated at a small meeting, in a comparatively humble house in “Hans-place, Chelsea,” is now the patronized of the Queen, and the aided of the people; and its power to do good has been marvellously augmented. Even with the very limited means hitherto at the command of its Directors, prodigious service has been rendered; in numerous instances, vast relief has been afforded; in some cases restorations to health have been effected, and, in others, the passage to the grave has been made easy, tranquil, and happy. [26b] And surely this latter consideration is one of very vital importance. Not only is the chaplain of the Institution aided earnestly by the matron and other excellent ladies, who read and pray, and soothe and comfort the fainting and struggling spirit; but no distinction of creeds is here made—where death is so often busied in levelling all distinctions; a clergyman of the Roman Catholic faith, and ministers of all Christian societies and sects, are gladly admitted whenever
- 63. members of their congregations require spiritual comfort and aid. [27a] Who is there, then, with mind and heart influenced by religion, who will not rejoice at opportunities of soothing a dying-bed— removing misery, alleviating pain, and averting want, while preparing for a change of time for eternity? The yet limited chronicles of this infant Institution record many touching instances of courage, encouragement, hope, and salvation, obtained there, while passing through the valley of the shadow of death. The fatal disease gives abundant time for such consolations and such results; the tyrant advances slowly; the issue has been long foreseen; there is no need to hurry or confuse; divine grace may be infused surely—the mists of unbelief being gradually dispelled; bright and cheering gospel truths may be learned, one by one, until the last sigh wafts the soul into the haven “prepared by the blood of the Lamb.” But temporal, as well as eternal good, has been already achieved by this Institution. Several of its inmates have been discharged, fitted to become useful members of society; strengthened in constitution as well as spiritually enlightened; beneficially changed, in all respects, by a temporary residence in this blessed Asylum. I have seen, not one or two, but several, pale faces return, after a sojourn in the Hospital, to thank me for “my letter,” with the hues of health upon their cheeks, and able to bless the Institution, without pausing to breathe between the breaks in every sentence. There is, however, a consideration connected with the subject which presses sorely on the mind of every inhabitant of these islands—rich as well as poor—for no station in exempt from the influence of the subtle disease; no blood, however ancient and pure, can repel it; exemption from its attacks cannot be purchased by any excess of wealth; caution can do little to avert it; its advances are perceived afar off without a prospect of escape; it seems, indeed, the terrible vanquisher against whom it is idle to fight. [27b] Surely, then, ALL are interested—deeply interested—in helping the only plan by which the disease may be so studied as to secure a remedy. It is foolish to speak of it as INCURABLE; the term signifies
- 64. only that the cure has not been yet discovered; there are scores of other diseases which, half a century ago, were regarded as consumption now is—sure steps to death, for which the physician could do nothing. How many seeming miracles has simple science worked in our day! Why have other diseases been completely conquered, while this maintains its power unchecked? Merely because, in reference to the one, ample opportunities for studying them have been of late years afforded, while, with regard to the other, a single case at a time was all the physician could take for his guidance. Now, in this Institution, a school is forming, to which it is not too much to say, even the most healthy and beautiful children of our highest nobles may be indebted for life; for who can say how soon a slight cold may sow the seeds of consumption, which skill may fail to baffle and subdue until greater knowledge has been supplied by means more enlarged and more effectual than as yet exist in the kingdoms swayed by a royal lady, who is at once the pride and the model of British wives and mothers? To all our interests, then—of time and of eternity—this CHARITY makes earnest and eloquent appeal. Surely these considerations will have their weight in obtaining all-sufficient aid to create and sustain the Institution it is my happy privilege to advocate—in humble but earnest hope that my weak advocacy may not be altogether vain. The Rosery, Old Brompton.
- 65. COOK AND CO., PRINTERS, 76 FLEET STREET, LONDON
- 66. Footnotes. [6] This was the third botanic garden, established about the year 1673, in England. In a very old manuscript the spot is thus quaintly described:—“Chelsea physic garden has great variety of plants, both in and out of green-houses; their perennial green hedges, and rows of different coloured herbs, are very pretty, and so are the banks set with shades of herbs in the Irish style.” The drawing Mr. Fairholt was so good as to make for this little book, gives a faithful representation of the statue of Sir Hans Sloane, by Rysbach, the two famous cedars, and the water-gate; and as this time-honoured garden is about to be converted into “a square of houses,” I am glad of the opportunity to preserve a memorial of it. It is not only sacred to science, but full of pleasant memories: Evelyn has sate beneath those cedars; Sir Joseph Banks used to delight in measuring them, and proving to his friends that the girth of the larger “exceeded twelve feet eleven inches;” and it is said that, when Dean Swift lodged at Chelsea, he was often to be found in this “physic garden.” When we call to mind the number of persons of note who selected the “sweet village of Chelsea” as a residence, there can he no lack of associations for this spot. Between the garden and the college is the place (according to Maitland) where Cæsar crossed the Thames. [26a] Philip Rose, Esq., the Hon. Sec. and Founder of the Institution. [26b] Independent of advantages afforded within the present Hospital, application for orders to obtain “out of door” advice and medicine have been very numerous; and they have not unfrequently been made by persons far superior to those who are supposed (but most erroneously) to be the only recipients of charitable aid. I
- 67. entreat the reader’s indulgence while I briefly relate one circumstance within my own knowledge. A few months ago, a lady (for poverty is no destroyer of birth-rights) requested from me a ticket for an out- door patient; and, in answer to my inquiries, at length, with trembling lips and streaming eyes, confessed it was for her husband she needed it. She had made what is called a love-match; her family refused to do anything to alleviate the poverty which followed his misfortunes, unless she forsook her husband; her knowledge of the most sacred duty of woman’s life, and, indeed, I believe, poor thing, her enduring love, prevented her having the great sin to answer for, of abandoning him in his distress; and her skill in drawing and embroidery enabled her to support her sick husband and herself. “I can do that,” she said, “and procure him even little luxuries, if I have not a doctor’s bill to pay; but the medicines are so expensive, that he will be comfortless unless we can receive aid from this Institution; I have paid, during the last two weeks, twelve shillings for medicine.” His case was utterly and entirely without hope, but, as she told me afterwards, no words could express the alleviation to his sufferings, mental and physical, which followed the assistance he obtained at the Hospital. [27a] “To provide him with an Asylum, to surround him with the comforts of which he stands so much in need, to ensure him relief from the sufferings entailed by his disease, to afford him spiritual consolation, at a period when the mind is, perhaps, best adapted to receive, with benefit, the divine truths of religion, and to enable those who depend upon him to earn their own subsistence, are the great objects of this new Hospital.”—Appeal of the Committee. [27b] “To all who have either felt the power of the destroyer, or who have reason to fear his attack—and what family throughout the country has not had sad experience of his presence?—an earnest appeal is now made, in the full assurance that those who give their support to this Institution will aid in materially lessening the amount of misery.”—Appeal of the Committee.
- 68. *** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FORLORN HOPE: A TALE OF OLD CHELSEA *** Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will be renamed. Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away—you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. START: FULL LICENSE
- 69. THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
- 70. PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work (or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at www.gutenberg.org/license. Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works 1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™ electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property (trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. 1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below.
- 71. 1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the United States and you are located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™ works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when you share it without charge with others. 1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any country other than the United States. 1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: 1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, copied or distributed:
- 72. This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook. 1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg™ trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. 1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is posted with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. 1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg™ License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg™. 1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1
- 73. with active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project Gutenberg™ License. 1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format other than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ website (www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. 1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. 1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works provided that: • You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in Section 4, “Information
- 74. about donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.” • You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ works. • You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of receipt of the work. • You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works. 1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. 1.F. 1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project Gutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual property infringement, a defective or
- 75. damaged disk or other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment. 1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGE. 1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further opportunities to fix the problem. 1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’, WITH NO OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED,
- 76. INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. 1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. 1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any Defect you cause. Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™ Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from people in all walks of life. Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™’s goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will
- 77. remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org. Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit 501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal Revenue Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws. The Foundation’s business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to date contact information can be found at the Foundation’s website and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many
- 78. small donations ($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt status with the IRS. The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate. While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who approach us with offers to donate. International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate. Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg™ concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and distributed Project Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
- 79. Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. Most people start at our website which has the main PG search facility: www.gutenberg.org. This website includes information about Project Gutenberg™, including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
- 81. back
- 82. back
- 83. back
- 84. back
- 85. back
- 86. back
- 87. Welcome to our website – the perfect destination for book lovers and knowledge seekers. We believe that every book holds a new world, offering opportunities for learning, discovery, and personal growth. That’s why we are dedicated to bringing you a diverse collection of books, ranging from classic literature and specialized publications to self-development guides and children's books. More than just a book-buying platform, we strive to be a bridge connecting you with timeless cultural and intellectual values. With an elegant, user-friendly interface and a smart search system, you can quickly find the books that best suit your interests. Additionally, our special promotions and home delivery services help you save time and fully enjoy the joy of reading. Join us on a journey of knowledge exploration, passion nurturing, and personal growth every day! ebookbell.com