Journal articles on the topic 'Enunciative project'

AbstractWhat is a genre? Applied to the textual domain, this question has received a descriptive answer in language studies. Genres would thus be distinguished from one another through formal (syntactic and lexical) traits and specific enunciative markers, as well as through the specificities of punctuation on the layout. Such response presupposes a global model where genres assemble texts (that actually undergo analysis) and are in turn integrated into discourse. I question this model in the name of empiricism: genres, as governed by usage, do not allow for such integration. Genres are heterogeneous by nature and their description cannot be rigid. The reason is that genres are a product of a certain type of interpretative practice of texts and, beyond texts, of all sorts of works. The aim of this study is to show how genre is the categorization that corresponds to a hermeneutics of appropriation and, in this sense, is reluctant to being disclosed through a formal description. Greimas seems never to have doubted this, since his semiotic project was precisely centered in the neutralization of generic categories.

Este estudo está contextualizado na atividade de formação docente a partir do projeto de Extensão Universitária “_______” e PIBID [1]- Língua Inglesa (LI), na Universidade ______. O trabalho tem o objetivo de analisar a produção de significados na atividade de formação docente e compreender o papel da argumentação para o desenvolvimento crítico-criativo de futuras-professoras. Apresenta como base teórica os fundamentos da Teoria da Atividade Sócio-Histórico-Cultural. A análise é realizada a partir de dois excertos advindos da discussão em um encontro de formação, embasada pelo aporte teórico metodológico da Pesquisa Crítico-Colaborativa. Os excertos são discutidos por meio de categorias argumentativas, que centralizam os aspectos enunciativo-discursivo-linguísticos e interpretados mediante o quadro teórico apresentado neste trabalho. A análise aponta que a oposição configura-se como categoria argumentativa, materializando o confronto entre os sentidos produzidos pelas futuras-professoras e a pesquisadora-formadora. Assim, a oposição apresenta papel fundamental para o desenvolvimento crítico-criativo das futuras-professoras, legitimando a importância da argumentação no contexto escolar.
 
 Palavras-chave: Argumentação. Formação docente. Teoria da Atividade Sócio-Histórico-Cultural. Crítico-criativo.
 
 This study is situated on a teacher education context, from an Extramural project “________”, at University _______. The text aims at analyzing the meaning production in the teacher education activity and comprehending the argumentation role to a critical-creative view´s development. The research is based on the Social-Historical-Cultural Activity Theory. The analysis is development from two excerpts originated from a discussion in a meeting of the teacher education activity, theoretical methodologically based on the Critical-Collaboration Research. The excerpts are discussed from categories that focus on enunciative-discoursive-liguistic aspects and interpreted under the theoretical base presented on this study. The analysis shows that the opposition configures itself as an argumentative category which materializes the confrontation between future teacher´s and research teacher’s produced senses. Thus, the opposition is essential in order to contribute to a critical-creative view´s development of the future teachers, legitimizing the argumentation importance in scholar context.
 Key-words: Argumentation. Teacher Education. Cultural-historical Activity Theory. Critical-creative.
 
 [1] Programa Institucional de Bolsa de Iniciação à Docência de Língua Inglesa (Pibid-LI).

Abstract: In this article, we begin by specifying a definition of “text” that will fit our present purpose; then, we will attempt to contribute, in the light of the demands involved in its treatment and the difficulties involved in learning it, to an explanation of its complexity, particularly its double construction, which is both linear and reticulated. In order to do that, we will recall the conditions of its progression along the linear axis, where the reader establishes semantic, syntactic, thematic, logical and argumentative connections between words and propositions that follow each other; and the conditions of its organic composition, which allows the reader to incorporate the words, phrases and paragraphs so constituted into a global structure (sequences, parts of the text, its general structure) as a function of textual models he or she may have experienced. But we insist upon the fact that, in order for these two types of organisation – linear sequence and hierarchical inclusion – to constitute a text, it is necessary for them to be inscribed in an enunciative context and a communicative project that give the text its origin, its finality, and its function. In view of the development of the use of New Information and Communication Technologies, we will ask ourselves to what extent these new supports, in terms of their nature as well as their modes of functionality, require or lead toward new linguistic and cognitive strategies for treatment of text, especially in learners, children and/or non-native speakers, and how these learners can perceive and construct the local and global coherence (semantic, logical, argumentative…) of a document presented in a hypertextual form.

Este artigo propõe-se a mostrar que a semântica da enunciação de Émile Benveniste é formulada sob as premissas de uma visão antropológica, que implica uma relação mútua entre linguagem, homem, cultura e sociedade. Por essa razão, pode sustentar o projeto da metassemântica, anunciado em Semiologia da língua, pelo qual o legado benvenistiano encontra abertura para ir além da disciplina linguística. Recorre-se à entrevista concedida por Benveniste a Pierre Daix para buscar a noção de significado que fundamenta o pensamento do autor. PALAVRAS-CHAVE: Significação. Semântica da Enunciação. Metassemântica. Linguagem. Intersubjetividade.
 ABSTRACTThis article aims to show that Émile Benveniste’s semantics of enunciation is formulated under the premises of an anthropological vision, which implies a mutual relationship between language, man, culture and society. For this reason, it provides the basis for the metassemantic project, announced in Semiologia da língua, whereby the Benvenistian legacy finds a way to go beyond linguistics. We refer to the interview given by Benveniste to Pierre Daix to seek the notion of meaning that substantiates the author's thought.KEYWORDS: Meaning. Semantics of Enunciation. Metassemantic. Language. Intersubjectivity.

In this article, we map conditions and enactments for a new plane of inquiry, what Mazzei named a minor inquiry. Informed by our collective thinking with Deleuze and Guattari’s discussion of a minor literature and its attendant characteristics, deterritorialization, political immediacy, and collective assemblage of enunciation, we present the conditions for inquiry on this new plane, provide enactments from our individual projects, and conclude with incitements for escaping the dogma of prescribed method.

Nilgiri Biosphere Reserve (NBR) was established in 1986 and since then various environmental projects have been introduced in the region, across the three southern states of Karnataka, Tamil Nadu and Kerala. Local tribal communities have been protesting against these projects, both for its vision and politics that disregard their traditional association with forests. The article substantiates on both these protestations. There have been significant shifts in the governance of forest areas following the establishment of the NBR. Environmental projects have initiated host of actors and interest groups who, along with state departments, play a critical role in the management of forest resources. The focus would be on enunciating the ensuing politics and its implications on the lives of local tribal communities.

This paper presents the results of a research project on the new modes of production of television crime news. The enquiry involved monitoring television newscasts of the five major channels in Buenos Aires City and interviews with news workers. We analyze the news content, the ways of narrating and enunciating crime news on television, the role played by the police in the structure of the news, the emergence of new sources of information and the production routines of crime news. Our findings suggest that most of the newscasts on television give prominence to crime news within their agendas and that its production and presentation has changed as the result of the spread of digital technologies as sources of information.

Lahore is an ancient, culturally rich city amidst which are embedded two world heritage sites. The state of historic preservation in the country is impoverished with a dearth of training and poor documentation skills, thus these monuments are decaying and in dire need of attention. The Aga Khan Cultural Service - Pakistan is one of the first working in heritage conservation in the country. AKCSP is currently subjecting the UNESCO World Heritage site of the Mughal era Lahore Fort to an intensive and multi-faceted architectural documentation process. This is presented here as a case study to chart the evolution of documentation techniques and enunciate the spectrum of challenges faced in the documentation of an intricate Mughal heritage site for conservation in the Pakistani context.<br><br> 3D - laser scanning is used for the purpose of heritage conservation for the first time, and since has been utilised on heritage buildings and urban fabric in ongoing projects. These include Lahore Fort, Walled city of Lahore as well as the Baltit Fort, a project restored in the past, assisting in the maintenance of conserved buildings. The documentation team is currently discovering the full potential of this technology especially its use in heritage conservation simultaneously overcoming challenges faced. Moreover negotiating solutions to auto-generate 2D architectural drawings from the 3D pointcloud output. The historic architecture is juxtaposed with contemporary technology in a region where such a combination is rarely found. The goal is to continually develop the documentation methodologies whilst investigating other technologies in the future.

This article examines epistolary enunciation in the recent cinema of former Soviet republics (Russia, Ukraine, and Estonia), and in particular how filmmakers use the letter device in their engagements with their nations’ past, present, and future. After discussing the post-Soviet epistolary through the prism of the region’s history, with reference to Altman (1982) and Naficy (2001), the article analyses the device in specific films. Recent examples often follow the Soviet-era model of the letter as a medium for contact not only (or primarily) between individuals, but also for more abstract kinds of contact, between distinct realms of human existence and consciousness: East and West, Public and Private, Life and Death/Afterlife, Freedom and Captivity, Science and Superstition, Authenticity and Imposture, History and Contemporaneity. The meanings created via epistolary efforts to bridge such gaps – by the characters and the filmmakers – are central to the post-Soviet cinematic project of national and individual introspection.

At the centre of the debates on internationalisation one can notice tensions between the agenda of completing the incomplete project of modernity, which dovetails into the current hegemonic neoliberal capitalist globalisation with its �global turn� towards the creation of �global� universities; and the resurgent and insurgent agenda of completing the incomplete project of decolonisation predicated on deracialisation, de-hierarchisation, decorporatisation, and depatriachisation of knowledge and education. This article contributes to the decolonisation of internationalisation of higher education at four main levels. In the first place, it underscores the primacy of knowledge in creating a reality known as �the international� with Europe and North America at the centre. In the second, it makes a strong case for taking seriously the idea of the locus of enunciation of knowledge as a basis of critique of the hegemonic neoliberal globalisation�s notion of a global economy of knowledge that is decontextualised and ignores the resilient uneven division of intellectual and academic labour. In the third, it calls for intercultural translation, mosaic/convivial epistemology, and ecologies of knowledges as key to any successful decolonised internationalisation of higher education. In the fourth, it argues for the reconstruction of university into pluriversity informed by the practices of globalectics and the coexistence of particularities. These four interventions constitute essential enablers in the cultivation of transnational knowledge that is of service to a world characterised by planetary human entanglements.

Narration and thematics. Pontoppidan’s Mimoser read once againIn Danish literary criticism Pontoppidan’s short novel Mimoser (1886) has maintained a reputation for being an enigmatic piece of fiction. What is it really about, and what is its point in the end? This paper approaches the text by close-reading the oblique, changing relationships between the implied narrator, the characters he presents, and the grim story he tells about how their life projects are ruined. In contrast to the elusive enunciation of the text, its thematic structure is very stable, however. The ‘vertical’ relationships between parents and their children persistently dominate the grown-up children’s wishes and futile attempts to form permanent ‘horizontal’ matrimonial relationships. Especially the dominance of the mother in relation to the son is decisive for the outcome of these conflicts. Eventually, the paper sketches what happens to the way Pontoppidan narrates in his long, monumental novels later on.

Healthcare professionals’ education is evolving to meet people’s needs towards a more comprehensive, collaborative and interdisciplinary training. In medical education in Argentina, in the context of international discussions around competence-based education (CBE), competence frameworks are being developed for undergraduate and postgraduate education, constituting agreed criteria that lead to the design of training programs and work as key tools to ensure educational quality. The Tuning Project and other international frameworks account for this process towards a common definition of standards beyond geographic and disciplinary boundaries. Generic competences (GCs) have acquired increased relevance in CBE discussions, whereas in medical education they involve key skills for patient safety – yet clarity in their implementation still has to be accomplished. In competence-based medical education (CBME), some changes are being hindered by the absence of a common language as well as diverging ideologies and theories. The purpose of this work was to explore conceptions and the terms used when referring to GCs by people in charge of educational planning and design of Human Resources (HR) training policies in Argentina. A qualitative informants from different levels and fields in medical education. Interviews were conducted by one interviewer and analysed by two independent researchers. Results showed that medical educational planners have different conceptions regarding GCs and fail to share a common language to enunciate them. They acknowledge their relevance for patient safety and agree with the notion that, at this time of educational transformation, it would be useful to enunciate them separately from specific competences, although they realise that this involves potential risks in curricular design. From all terms used in this regard, “generic competence” was identified as a contradiction in itself. Consensus on denomination, meaning and visibility in curricula is mandatory.Received: 26 April 2018Accepted: 18 May 2018Published online: 31 May 2018

The present work approaches the way Odete Semedo, in her literary text and specifically in the short story Naquela Noite, uses strategies which can be considered as a possible symbolization of “sites of memory”. Such strategies reinforce resistance mechanisms and indicate ways of survival to go through difficult periods in the troubled space of Guinea-Bissau. The discussion that is now underway intends to endorse part of the thought of Amílcar Cabral, the most expressive revolutionary leader on the Guinean ground, in which the greater meaning of his people’s struggle for independence is clarified. Cabral’s lucid perception seems to be the same that can be seen in the work carried out by Semedo when he enacts, in his literary project, possibilities for the Guinean people to assume, even with great difficulties, the direction of their destiny. The strategies assumed by the writer configure a literary project of a politicized nature. This work, fueled by these reflections, can verticalize the discussion by focusing on the symbolization of “sites of memory” in Semedo’s text, emphasizing, in the enunciation of it, its performativity as a beacon of resistance and an input for survival to overcome the harshness of current times of Guinea-Bissau. In Naquela Noite, Semedo’s dexterity is proven by her skill of handling the concomitance of divergent times and spaces, as well as the remains of traditions threatened with extinction due to the acceleration of history. (Image Recanto do Poeta)

<p class="Abstract"><span lang="EN-GB">A number of European projects – ELAN (2006), Dylan (2006-2011), CELAN (2011-2013) – have confirmed the importance of multilingualism in the workplace. They provide evidence that a multilingual environment increases the diversity and the quality of projects, while monolingualism can mean a loss of markets. Since the ‘80s, English as a lingua franca (ELF) has been accepted as the international business language. Although English is not considered a threat to multilingualism (House, 2002, 2003), tensions exist between these two forms of communication: ELF and multilingualism. In this paper, I present an analysis of Airbus employee interviews using argument formulas (Anscombre, Ducrot, 1983). The initial analysis of what is said before and after the connector “but/pero/aber/mais” within interviews in four languages indicates tensions between the use of English and multilingual exchanges in daily work activities. The combination of “enunciation frames” (Charolles, 1997) and the role of personal pronouns (Benveniste, 1974) shows that the employees adapt their communication according to workplace structures: they tend to use English at an executive or a departmental level, while at team and face-to-face levels their communication benefits from multilingual skills. </span></p><p class="Abstract"> </p>

We analyze how activism proclaimed by brands works with discussion on the consumption of activism and trademarks. Which communication strategies are related to brand activism? Few initiatives go so far as their first aim to add good intentions to their brands since they would not be directly responsible for problems that they solve. For procedures, we use a semiotic discursive theory based on Greimas and Landowski. As a result, the performance of the brand analyzed shows acts from the regime of the sense of strategy in its value object, which is the adhesion, not dispensing, also strategically, the regime of sensible adjustment, which gains relevance in the relations of identification, from the utopian values. More than ever, brand image building must consider the values by the enunciate identifies and defines itself subjectively, and it seems to us that brand identity designs have never been so close to consumer identity projects.

Requirements elicitation is concerned with learning and understanding the needs of users w.r.t. a new software development. Frequently the methods employed for requirements elicitation are adapted from areas like social sciences that do not include executable (prototype based on) feedback. As a consequence, it is relatively common to discover that the first release does not fit the requirements defined at the beginning of the project. Using domain-specific languages (DSLs) as an auxiliary tool for requirements elicitation is a commonly well accepted idea. Unfortunately, there are few works in the literature devoted to the definition of design principles for DSLs to be experienced in the frameworks for DSL developing such as ANTLR, Ruby, and Curry. We propose design principles for the DSL development (regardless of paradigm) which are sufficient to model the domain in a requirements phase. Further more we enunciate a new profile for the requirements analyst and a set of elicitation steps. The use of DSLs not only giveus an immediate feedback with the stake holders; it also allows us to produce part of the real code.

O presente artigo se propõe a desenvolver o conceito de remediação a partir do ponto de vista da semiótica greimasiana e pós-greimasiana. A semiótica da enunciação aborda a questão da (re)mediação sob a perspectiva de um tríplice ângulo: aquele da mediação “originária”, que corresponde à experiência que uma instância faz do mundo; o da mobilização de configurações significantes reunidas na práxis enunciativa; enfim, aquele dos elementos (re)mediadores implicados em uma dinâmica responsável pelo devir das semióticas-objetos. A reflexão desenvolve-se em três tempos. Em primeiro lugar, visamos a identificar as operações da remediação: a recontextualização (agir sobre o ambiente), a remediatização (mudar para outro meio), a reformatação (modificar o formato), a remedialização (transformar o meio) e a retexturização (intervir no nível das relações micro- e macrotextuais). Na sequência, exploramos os regimes da remediação: a hibridização, a bricolagem, a mestiçagem e a espetacularização, tomando nossos exemplos essencialmente do domínio do digital (a ópera filmada, o Google Arts&Culture Project, a Visual Aesthetics de Manovich, Living Mona Lisa). Por fim, a atenção concentra-se nas modalidades da recepção das semióticas-objetos remediadas: as noções de “imediaticidade” e “hiperimediaticidade”, no sentido em que as entendem Bolter e Grusin, são questionadas em relação com aquelas de imersão, de participação (cf. “cultura participativa” – Jenkins) e de tomada de distância reflexiva.

Este artigo pretende analisar a relação de intertextualidade existente entre os romances O som e a fúria, de William Faulkner, e O vento assobiando nas gruas, da escritora portuguesa Lídia Jorge, a partir do ponto de vista de narradores marginais, anormais e veiculadores de processos de enunciação considerados ineficientes. A saga familiar, a loucura e a incomunicabilidade são temas apresentados por meio de um foco narrativo dificultoso, responsável por representar o alcance de um projeto comum de comunicação ideal em ambos os autores, promovendo a empatia do leitor com pontos de vista descentrados e novas possibilidades de visão de mundo.This article aims to analyze the relation of intertextuality existent between the novels The sound and the fury, by William Faulkner, and O vento assobiando nas gruas, by Portuguese writer Lídia Jorge, from the point of view of marginal and insane narrators, with ineffective enunciation processes. Furthermore, it can be seen in the approach of both stories that embrace familiar saga, craziness, and communicative failure, presented by them, an effort to reach a common project of ideal communication, encouraging reader’s empathy with decentralized views and new possibilities of existential examinations.

One of my favourite photos of my son is him as an over-tired, dishevelled and very disgruntled five-year-old. He stands, holding out two globs of unidentifiable rusted metal, and looks at the camera (at me), with an accusing, penetrating glare (Fig. 1). As a distracted, overextended parent trying to run an archaeological field project (the Rising Sun Hotel in New Orleans), I had sent him to play in the dirt—the back dirt of our discard pile. I thought that's where he couldn't get into any trouble. I didn't imagine that it would get me into trouble. He was mad because we had overlooked these obvious artefacts (he had already grasped the subtle nature/culture distinction of the archaeological sorting process). We had disregarded them. We had attempted to make them unworthy of notice. What my son, in his innocence, was enunciating is the intentionality of ignoring something—and with intentionality, there is always a potential politics. That is what I would like to focus on here: how can we approach Beiläufigkeit—the incidental and taken-for-granted—as indexical of politics?

RÉSUMÉ Le présent travail étudie l’écriture de soi dans les deux œuvres de Malika Mokeddem : Mes hommes et je dois tout à ton oubli. Il s’agit particulièrement d’interroger le projet autobiographique dans Mes hommes et la coïncidence du réel et du fictionnel dans Je dois tout à ton oubli, afin d’appréhender la connexité tissée dans ces deux romans. Notre étude est étayée par deux concepts théoriques de l’écriture de soi à savoir : l’autobiographe et l’autofiction. Sur le plan méthodologique, il sera question d’examiner plusieurs éléments qui font basculer le récit entre référentialité et fictionnalité. Lesquels éléments sont, d’une part, d’ordre narratif, ils révèlent la stratégie d’écriture chez M. Mokeddem. D’autre part, d’ordre thématique qui couvrent les objectifs de l’écriture de soi. Conséquemment, l’écriture de soi chez M. Mokeddem puise sa particularité à la fois des procédés usités et du réseau de significations qui relie les deux romans. Mots- clés : autobiographie, autofiction, énonciation, thèmes et objectifs, indices paratextuels. ABSTRACT. This research paper attempts to expose self writing in thetwo works of Malika Mokeddem My Men and I Owe Everything to Your forgetfulness . This study is particularly about questioning the autobiographical project in My Men and the fact and the fictional in I Owe Everything to Your forgetfulness and that to comprehend the connectedness woven in these two novels. Our study will be grounded on two theoritical concepts of self writing: the autobiography and the autofiction. From a methodological point of view, it will be a question of examining several elements that swing texts between referentiality and functionality. These elements are on one hand narrative; they reveal the writing strategy of M Mokeddem. On the other hand, that of the thematic order which covers the objectives of self writing. Consequently, Mokeddem 's self writing draws its particularity from both the commonly used processes and the network of meanings which link the two novels. Keywords: autobiography, autofiction, enunciation, themes and objectives, Paratextual indices

Abstract In the scant scholarship relative to Alberto Blest Gana’s Mariluán, several critics have underscored the unfeasibility or superfluidity of the protagonist’s aspired project for restitution, indigenous assimilation, and fraternity in the Araucanía during the novel’s context of enunciation. Under the theoretical framework of Athena Athanasiou and Judith Butler on dispossession, and in dialogue with the concept of “sediments of time” by Reinhart Koselleck, this study argues that an analysis of the overlapping chronologies in “play” in Mariluán serves to revise the statements seemingly offered for advancement nearly 160 years ago. Mariluán’s pseudo-revival of a Lautaro and the manner in which he makes himself “present” or “becoming,” and remains “present” after his beheading, can be re-signified as a means to challenge the terms imposed from structures that inhibit, subjugate, and seek to fully exterminate or nullify the “other” – insomuch in the 1860s, as in future temporalities involving repetitions of historical events and their related, yet distinguishable, singularities. Through a reconsideration of the protagonist’s aims that refute his call for cultural assimilation as a necessary means of integration, today’s status quo on indigenous issues can be re-problematised, to contest the pervasive logic of dispossession and advocate for more practical and politically inclusive structures that celebrate Chile’s plurality.

AbstractThis paper underlines Vattel's commitment to maintaining the sovereignty of Europe's small states by enunciating the duties he deemed incumbent upon all political communities. Vattel took seriously the threat to Europe from a renascent France, willing to foster an equally aggressive Catholic imperialism justified by the need for religious unity. Preventing a French version of universal monarchy, Vattel recognised, entailed more than speculating about a Europe imagined as a single republic. Rather, Vattel believed that Britain had to be relied upon to prevent excessive French ambition, and to underwrite the independence of the continent's smaller sovereignties. Against those who saw Britain as another candidate for the domination of Europe, Vattel argued that Britain's commercial interests explained why it was a different kind of state to the great empires of the past. The paper goes on to consider the reception of Vattel's ideas after the Seven Years War. Although further research is required into readings of Vattel, especially in the smaller states of Europe in the later eighteenth century, the paper concludes that by the 1790s Vattel was being used to justify war to defeat the gargantuan imperialist projects of newly republican France, in order to maintain Europe itself, and the smaller states within it.

The present work is presented as an approach between the notion of the imaginary with the theory of the film viewer, formulated in 1956 by Edgar Morin, in his classic text The cinema or the imaginary man and enlarged by Francesco Casetti with the thesis of the enunciation in the cinema. In this way, the main objective of this article is to capture theoretical bases from the reflection of both conceptualizations. Thus, this initiatory work aims to be an epistemological contribution to future research projects. For this, at the methodological level, an initial theoretical path is developed that has its anchor -and its respective critical reading- in the contributions of Gilbert Durand and Cornelius Castoriadis, in the permanent concern of both for “drawing” those elements inherent in anthropos that allow the construction of their historical-social environment from subjectivity. The latter conceived as intrinsic peculiarity to the human being. It is concluded that through an artificial-imaginary state the viewer feels close and is able to recognize the reality of the images that the big screen offers him, coming into direct contact with his fantasies, fears and dreams. In other words, here the double dimension of the film is observed as an artifact and as a subjective experience.

Purpose – The purpose of this paper is to discuss that in 2012, a small group of teaching staff in a new diploma of Education Studies program came together to critically reflect on teaching approaches that either hindered or encouraged learners to thrive in the transition environment in higher education (HE). Design/methodology/approach – This paper reports on the use of case writing as a methodological tool for engaging in reflexive inquiry in a HE cross-faculty setting; it also adds a further dimension to the work of (Burridge et al., 2010). The team used a systematic coding activity, known as “threading,” to unpack over-arching themes that were embedded in each other’s narratives. Findings – Throughout the two years of the project, 12 cases were presented on key critical teaching moments that the researchers had experienced. The themes varied and included topics like student reflections on why they found learning challenging, teachers’ mixed emotions about failing students, difficulties for teachers in having to persuade students to read academic texts, teacher/student confrontations and student resilience amidst challenges linked to their personal and student lives. Social implications – A central theme to emerge from the research was that complexities arise for teachers when they are faced with learners who are apparently not suited to the career pathway they have signed up for. Originality/value – Through using a collaborative practitioner research framework, enunciating concerns were raised and different interpretations of the same incident were shared. The paper concludes that case writing can assist academics to be more informed of teaching approaches that lead to successful learning outcomes.

El trabajo analiza, desde el enfoque glotopolítico, la sección de consultas lingüísticas que brinda la RAE en Twitter como un nuevo dispositivo de normatividad, resultado tanto de requerimientos específicos que impone esta plataforma de comunicación como de decisiones glotopolíticas al servicio del proyecto panhispánico. Inicialmente, se presentará el marco donde se inscribe esta acción de intervención de la RAE, la política lingüística panhispánica, consignando las principales investigaciones críticas sobre el tema; luego se describirán las características de los materiales que son objeto de estudio; a continuación, se analizarán en una selección de tuits los rasgos enunciativos del locutor y del destinatario, así como del discurso normativo que aquel produce; finalmente, se examinarán algunos criterios normativos adoptados por la institución en interacciones con usuarios. The work analyzes, from the glottopolitical approach, the section of linguistic consultations provided by the RAE on Twitter as a new device of normativity, resulting both from specific requirements imposed by this communication platform and from glottopolitical decisions at the service of the pan-Hispanic project. At first, it will be present the framework where this action of intervention of the RAE is inscribed, the pan-Hispanic language policy, recording the main critical research on the subject; then it will describe the characteristics of the materials that are the object of study; also it will analyze the declarative features of the speaker and the recipient in a selection of tweets, as well as the normative discourse that the institution produces; finally, some normative criteria adopted by the institution in interactions with users will be examined.

ResumoO capítulo chileno do exílio de Mário Pedrosa, terminado abruptamente em 1973 com o golpe ao governo Allende, e o subsequente exílio francês marcaram a passagem do crítico do europeísmo para a defesa de uma posição terceiro-mundista. Na França, Pedrosa escreveu o Discurso aos Tupiniquins e Nambás (1975), ponto de partida para uma reflexão sobre a América Latina que resultará, em 1978, em um verdadeiro projeto de descolonização do pensamento eurocêntrico a partir da arte ameríndia: a exposição (não realizada) Arte de viver, Arte de criar. Tendo como foco a década de 1970, último período de atuação política e intelectual do crítico, este trabalho tem como objetivo apresentar a opção terceiro-mundista de Pedrosa na vertente das teorias do “pensamento liminar”, voltadas a reveindicar para o Brasil um lugar não mais de colônia, mas de locus de enunciação das narrativas historicamente subalternizadas.AbstractThe Chilean chapter of Mário Pedrosa’s exile, finished abruptly in 1973 with the coup to the Allende government, and the subsequent French exile, marked the critic’s crossing from Europeanism to the defense of a third-world position. In France, Pedrosa wrote the “Discurso aos Tupiniquins e Nambás”, starting point for a reflection on Latin America, that will result, in 1978, in a true project of decolonization of the Eurocentric thought from Amerindian art: the exhibition (not accomplished) “Arte de viver, Arte de criar”. Focusing on the 1970s, the last period of political and intellectual activity of the critic, this paper aims to insert Pedrosa’s third-world option in the liminary thinking theories, aimed at revealing to Brazil a place no longer a colony, but a “locus” of enunciation of historically subalternized narratives.

Edward Said was the quintessential intellectual of the last quarter of the twentieth century. Commonly celebrated as the founding figure of postcolonialism, his critical oeuvre spans varied terrain. The very strength of his critique lies in these diverse tributaries of thought. Crossing borders and boundaries incessantly, Said’s intellectual project celebrates the culture of resistance while opposing doctrinaire rhetoric. The paper tries to journey along the multifarious “margins” of discourses that crop up in Said. “In-between” spaces have to be investigated for their radical potential, while daring to “transgress” has its own dangers. Said unmasks the unholy nexus between knowledge and power in the mapping of the “Orient” that abetted the colonial enterprise. His contrapuntal readings of literary texts reveal the ubiquitous presence of imperial empire. Consequently, voices from the margins spur counter narratives and “writing back” in the postcolonial condition. Intellectuals in exile tend to be “marginal” and this location helps in looking at the two or even three sides of an issue. Questions of identity, selfhood, nationality, politics, memory, history, representation, geography, homeland, anxieties of influence are dealt with in the paper. The intertwining of the personal and the political occurs in Said. “Memory” is the only hope for resuscitating a “lost world” and battling the accompanying sense of “loss” and “despair” infused in both individuals and communities alike. The paper tries to address how “border crossing” and the “coalescing of margins” create an interdisciplinary breadth in Said, which resist categorization. The “centre/margin” binary is problematized by acknowledging the presence of “many voices,” “polyphony” being a favourite concept of Said. Music gave to him metaphors for human emancipation, while “transgression” was vital. His acknowledgement and assimilation of fellow critics is also mentioned. Beyond enunciating insider-outsider distinctions, Said tried to cultivate knowledge as a bridge between different interests and locations.

Since the end of the 1990s, research on discursive ethos – the image of the speaker which is projected by his or her utterance – has been very active in discourse analysis. It contributes to a better understanding of how an enunciation can attract the support of addressees. But in general, this research 1) focuses on isolated texts or individual speakers, not on discursive formations, 2) does not take into account the lexicon when it does not have clear ideological content. On the contrary, this article deals with the role played by some French polysemous adjectives (simple, doux, clair) to make the incorporation (Maingueneau 1999) of readers or listeners possible, to make them adhere to the universe of meaning that is proposed to them. This point of view is first illustrated by the study of an advertising text, before being applied to large discursive formations: a religious movement (“devout humanism”) of the first half of the 17th century; and, in the political field, two antagonistic positions in France under the French Third Republic (1870–1940): the handbooks of Republican School and the monarchist movement “l’Action Française”. We are led to conclude that adjectives, by their polysemy, “saturate discourse.” Through ethos, discourse does not only persuade by the ideas it delivers: it also sets the addressee in a speech scene that partakes of the semantic characteristics of the ideological universe that discourse aims to promote.

The article considers new aspects in researching the soviet culture transformations. It has been become a point at issue of a seminar-debate on the topic «Soviet existence on the threshold of conformation of totalitarian and authoritarian frameworks» (May, 2020). It was organized on the grant project of Russian Science Foundation № 20-68-46013 «Philosophic-anthropological analysis of soviet existence. Suppositions, dynamics, influence over modernity». The analysis of seminar-debate items, feedback of outstanding researches and students, invited to debate, spots that soviet existence is defined as being a difficult unhomogeneous integrative phenomenon. Its research is important and significant in contemporary and exploratory scope. The content of seminar shows that an essential researching tendency becomes a consideration of the soviet culture in the aspect of mythologization. The soviet reality is noticeable as myths and the soviet way of life is noticeable as mythologemas. In the direction of the declared cultural tradition, mythological figures (primal forefathers, heroes, enemies, rulers) of the soviet culture are indicated and defined. They correspond to realistic historical persons. It is noted the main tendencies of the soviet mythological system creation, founded on traditional cultural concepts, transformed in tune with ideological principles. Consequently, the participants of seminar enunciate straight and suppose implicitly varied contacts between pre-soviet and soviet existence, apparent in a philosophical thought and in an artwork. In this context it is noted next dimensions of the soviet existence problem: beginnings of the soviet existence and its organization, chronotopos of the soviet existence, chemistry between a person and power. An individual aspect in researching the soviet existence becomes the problem of creative person’s presence. This aspect was interesting not only for the participants of the seminar but students invited to debate.

Resumo: Este trabalho interliga os resultados da pesquisa “A formação de professores em cursos de licenciatura EaD: do aprender com tecnologia ao ensinar com tecnologia”, atrelado à linha de pesquisa “Ensino de Linguagens e suas Tecnologias”, cujo objetivo é investigar o impacto das novas tecnologias na formação discente, mais especificamente no Estágio Curricular Obrigatório, dos alunos de Letras, na modalidade Ensino Presencial Conectado. Para tanto, procedeu-se uma pesquisa qualitativa, realizada junto aos alunos de graduação dos últimos períodos do curso de Letras de uma universidade particular do estado de Minas Gerais, utilizando-se o questionário, enquanto instrumento de pesquisa. A ancoragem teórica seguiu a linha epistemológica do multiletramento enquanto prática social, tendo em vista a necessidade de novas práticas de leitura, dentro do contexto tecnológico vigente. Os dados apontaram para uma consciência dos discentes sobre a necessidade do uso da tecnologia na esfera escolar, porém a enunciação dos sujeitos indicou, também, que ainda há falta de saberes sobre como transpor o construto teórico na prática.Palavras-chave: Ensino. Educação a Distância. Formação de Professor. Abstract: This work connects the results of the research that was carried out in the Project “Teacher education in undergraduate courses distance learning: of learning with technology while teaching with technology", linked to the line of research "Teaching of Languages and their Technologies”, which aims to investigate the impact that new technologies have on students formation, more specifically in Mandatory Curricular Practicum for Letters students in Connected Classroom Teaching. For this purpose, a qualitative research was carried out with students who were in the last semesters of the Letters Course in a private university in the state of Minas Gerais. A questionnaire was used as an instrument for the research. The theoretical references followed an epistemological basis of multiliteracy as a social practice and the data showed that students are conscious about the necessity of using technology at schools. Nevertheless, their enunciation also indicated that they still do not know how to put this theory in practice.Keywords: Education. Distance Education. Teacher Education.

Parliamentary debates on the definition of the nation-state and national identities are a very revealing discursive domain of tracing the cues of the social construction of this category. Integrating social-psychological and discourse analyses, this article studies how Spanish nationalism interacts with the most influential regional (Catalonian and Basque) nationalisms in the Spanish Parliament in Madrid, and in the regional Parliaments of Catalonia and the Basque Country. The study is based on a two-dimensional framework, which characterises nationalist cultures in terms of their Institutional Status (“established” vs. “rising” nationalism), and in terms of the Basic Assumptions (“civic” vs. “ethnic” aspects in the social representation of the nation — Smith, 19986, 1991). According to the conceptual framework, each of these nationalisms represents a different combination of “established” (Spanish) or “rising” (Basque and Catalonian) Institutional Status as well as of “civic” (in Catalonia) or “ethnic” (Spanish and the Basque) Basic Assumptions (Grad, 1999). The study shows that, in these parliamentary contexts, the Institutional Status and the Basic Assumptions not only configure different nationalist positions, but also configure distinct “discursive formations” — reflected in interactional dynamics (of inclusion vs. exclusion, compatibility vs. incompatibility, and consensus vs. conflict relations) — between the different national projects and identities. These discourses belong to an “enunciative system” including systematic subject (the dominant national identity), system of references (or referential) terms to denote national categories or supra-regional — Spain, Spanish State, Basque Country, Catalonia — that serve to distinguish between national in-group and out-group, and clearly differ in extent and connotations in established and rising national codes), as well as associated fields (more ascriptive membership criteria, rigid group boundaries, requirement of internal homogeneity, restrictive referent and extension of the “us” in the ethnic than in civic codes), and materiality (strategies of discursive polarisation, especially salient in the Basque Country parliamentary discourse, which both indicate less compatibility between identities and aim to delegitimise dissent with regard to national referents and goals). Finally, in parliaments where ethnic codes are confronted (Spanish and Basque) politeness is impaired, there is a higher degree of controversy, and the strategies of delegitimisation constitute strong face-threatening acts which endanger the “tacit contract” of the parliamentary interactions. In this regard, ethnic centralist and independentist political positions make harder the compatibility between national identities than civic regional-nationalist and federal proposals. Recent confrontations between Spanish and Basque national positions seem to confirm the patterns found in this analysis.

ResumenEl presente artículo puede ser leído como una declaración de propósitos. Nos proponemos esbozar el punto de partida del proyecto teórico que de- nominaremos Hermenéutica Emergente. Un primer paso argumentativo en esta dirección implica releer el programa de la Hermenéutica Analógica propuesto por el filósofo mexicano Mauricio Beuchot, desde el programa de la “moral de la emergencia” construido por el filósofo argentino Arturo Roig. Siguiendo la tradición de la Filosofía de la Liberación, nuestra idea de una “hermenéutica emergente” pretende dilucidar las políticas inter- transculturales del discurso latinoamericanista, y por esta vía, contribuir al diálogo entre saberes Sur-Sur. Con este fin, asume sistemáticamente ellocus de enunciación de la periferia capitalista-dependiente del moderno sistema mundial.Palabras clave: Hermenéutica, emergencia, transculturación, Sur.AbstractThis article can be read as a statement of purpose. We propose to outline the starting point of the theoretical project that we will call Emergent Hermeneutics. A first argumentative step in this direction involves re- reading the program of Analogic Hermeneutics proposed by the Mexi- can philosopher Mauricio Beuchot, from the program of the “morality of emergence” constructed by the Argentine philosopher Arturo Roig. Following the tradition of the Philosophy of Liberation, our idea about an “emerging hermeneutics” seeks to elucidate the inter-transcultural policies of the Latin American discourse, and thereby contribute to the South-South dialogue and knowledge. To this end, it systematically as- sumes the locus of enunciation of the capitalist periphery-dependent of the modern world system.Keywords: Hermeneutics - emergence - transculturation - South.ResumoO presente artigo pode ser lido como uma declaração de propósitos. Propomo-nos delinear o ponto de partida do projeto teórico que vamos chamar Hermenêutica Emergente. Num primeiro passo argumentativo esta direção envolve reler o programa da Hermenêutica Analógica pro- posto pelo filósofo mexicano Mauricio Beuchot a partir do programa de “moral da emergência” construída pelo filósofo argentino Arturo Roig. Seguindo a tradição da Filosofia da Libertação, a nossa ideia de uma “hermenêutica emergente” visa elucidar as políticas inter-transculturais do discurso latino-americanista e, assim, contribuir para o diálogo entre saberes Sul-Sul. Para este fim, assume sistematicamente o locus da enun- ciação da periferia capitalista – dependente do moderno sistema mundial.Palavras-chave: Hermenêutica - Emergência - Transculturação - Sul.

Resumen Por un lado, “Cósmica habitación” y “Velar tu desnudez” pertenecen al poemario inédito Depravación de la luz, el cual buscan abrir de nuevo el espacio de enunciación de la voz homoerótica en la poesía costarricense. Para ello, se apoya no solo en la herencia cultural de las místicas hispano-musulmana, hispano-judía, indoamericana e hispano-cristiana y otras perspectivas filosóficas y estéticas, sino también en una consciencia ecológica, con el fin de configurar un mundo íntimo e interconectado donde las metáforas conducen lo erótico desde una corporalidad dinámica y reflexiva plena hasta las vivencias cotidianas y cósmicas de lo sagrado. De ahí que la cósmica habitación, esa suprarrealidad habitada por estos dos varones amantes, se convierta poema a poema en un espacio vivido de luminosa resistencia, en un espacio transparente, desde donde se lucha simbólica y performativamente contra la injuria ejercida sobre los sujetos gays en el ámbito nacional y mundial. Por otra parte, los poemas I, II y III son muestras de un proyecto poético también inédito en el que se pretende, siguiendo a Roberto Fonrs-Broggi, dar voz a “grietas”: a esas materias vivas no humanas, consideradas tradicionalmente inertes; grietas que, en todo caso, se encuentran interconectadas, por ejemplo: el escarabajo, la calima sahariana o el cedro.Abstract On one hand, “Cosmic room” and “Veil your nudity” belong to Depravity of the Light. This unpublished poetry-book seeks to open again the space of enunciation of homoerotic voice in Costa Rican poetry. For that purpose, it is based not only on cultural heritage of Hispanic-Muslim, Hispanic-Jewish, Indo-American and Hispanic-Christian mystiques and another philosophical and aesthetic perspective, but also on an ecological awareness. According to these, an intimate and interconnected world, where metaphors lead the eroticism from a dynamical and reflexive full corporeality to the daily and cosmic experiences of the sacred. Thus, the cosmic room, this supra-reality dwelled by these two lover men, is poem by poem turned into a space of life, of luminous resistance, where they symbolical and performatively fight against homophobic injury nationally and worldwide. On the other hand, the I, II and III poems are samples of an unpublished poetic project, which pretends, according to Roberto Forns-Broggi, gives a voice to “cracks”: those living no human material, traditionally considered as inert; “cracks” that, in any case, are interconnected, for example: the beetle, the Saharan haze or the cedar.

Architect, author and teacher, Michael Brawne was also an arq contributor and referee. His article ‘Research, design and Popper’ published in our second issue (1/2, pp 10–15) was an analysis of the similarity between architectural design and scientific research based on Karl Popper's hypothetico-deductive theory. It cut straight to the heart of the declared subject of this journal. Reading it again, one can almost hear Michael – with his characteristically precise enunciation (and often exquisitely drawly voice) – elucidating his argument.The following celebration of Michael and his contribution to architecture speaks eloquently about the man and his teaching but surprisingly little about his completed buildings – especially those of the '60s and '70s. There was something very rigorous about these. Indeed, Charles Correa asserts that the houses in Hampstead are ‘among the half-dozen most important pieces of architecture’ constructed in the UK over the last 50 years.It was in the first Hampstead house that, in 1962, there emerged the surface mounted vertical mullions that were to appear again – always subtly related to the internal spatial arrangement – in later projects. And there was his use on the upper levels of his buildings of steeply sloping Cor-Ten sheet (something that today's generation, who seem to have rediscovered this problematic material, could well learn from). In plan, his buildings often made a powerful use of the diagonal (the Cambridge influence perhaps?) and occasionally revealed his admiration for Alvar Aalto's work. This thoughtful, highly distinctive body of work extended from country cottage conversions and extensions to competition designs such as his ‘groundscraper’ high-density housing entry for the Portsdown competition.And what of Michael's exhibition designs? Following the 1965 publication of his book, The New Museum, it was a field in London which he seemed to dominate for much of the late '60s and the '70s – with shows such as the stunning Art in Revolution at the Hayward Gallery in 1971 and the exquisite Age of Neo-Classicism at the Royal Academy in the following year. In the mid '90s, his work for ecclesiastical museums in Germany was equally elegant and well-judged. And, over the last six years, recalling his artist father, he turned to making sculpture at Bath College.Michael Brawne is remembered here by some of his contemporaries, fellow teachers and students. The first contribution, by Bob Allies, is reproduced by permission from The Independent newspaper in which it appeared on 16 August 2003.

<p>http://dx.doi.org/10.5007/2175-795X.2015v33n1p161</p><p>Neste trabalho procura-se contextualizar a importância para a alfabetização da concepção dialógica da linguagem – da arquitetônica de Bakhtin –, e da perspectiva de aprendizagem de Vigotski, buscando contribuir com discussões que se põem desde a década de 1980 sobre o assunto, estendendo-se aos dias atuais. Para tal intento, são apresentadas, em linhas gerais, as orientações dos documentos oficiais no que diz respeito às concepções de linguagem e às propostas teórico-metodológicas em uma perspectiva de letramento e de interação social. Também se faz a defesa da alfabetização pela abordagem histórico-cultural e de práticas sociais de leitura e escrita constituídas na relação eu/outro. Discutem-se, ainda, algumas possibilidades metodológicas desenvolvidas com base em projetos de docência que possam edificar o processo alfabetizador pela atividade da comunicação verbal, ou seja, pela palavra real como enunciado concreto. Por fim, defende-se a consolidação de uma metodologia da alfabetização que propicie o desenvolvimento de práticas sociais no decorrer do processo de apropriação do sistema de escrita, ao mesmo tempo em que conduza à valoração do sujeito com responsabilidade sobre o pensar, falar e atuar. Preconiza-se assim o reforço de políticas públicas de formação em serviço de professores, fomentando atitudes responsivas perante os sujeitos-alunos, constituindo-os leitores e escritores competentes.</p><p><strong><br /></strong></p><p><strong>Literacy and dialogism: meetings with the word in life</strong></p><p><strong> </strong><strong>Abstract</strong></p><p>In this work we tried to contextualize the importance for literacy dialogical conception of language – the architectural Bakhtin – and Vygotsky's learning perspective, seeking to contribute to discussions on the subject that have been put through since the 1980s until the present day. For such purpose, the guidelines of the official documents with regard to language concepts and theoretical and methodological proposals in a perspective of literacy and social interaction are presented in a general aspect. This paper also makes the defense of literacy by the historical-cultural approach and social practices of reading and writing that are constituted in the relationship self / other. We also discuss some methodological possibilities that are developed based on teaching projects that can build the literacy process by the verbal communication activity, i.e .the real word as a concrete enunciation. Finally, it advocates the consolidation of a methodology of literacy which encourages the development of social practices in the course of the writing system appropriation process, as well as a methodology that can lead to the valuation of the subject with responsibility for thinking, speaking and acting.</p><p><strong>Keywords</strong>: Literacy. Verbal interaction. Teacher training.</p><p> </p><p><strong>L’alphabétisation et le dialogisme: rencontres avec la parole dan la vie</strong></p><p><strong> </strong><strong>Résumé</strong></p><p>Dans ce travail, on cherche de contextualiser l’importance pour l’alphabétisation de la conception dialogique du langage – l’architectonique de Bakhtin –, et de la perspective d’apprentissage de Vigotski, en cherchant de contribuer avec les discussions qui s’y posent depuis les anées 1980 jusqu' à aujourd'hui. À cet effet, sont présentées, en lignes générales, les orientations des documents officiels dans ce qui concerne aux conceptions du langage et aux propostes théorique-méthodologiques dans une perspective de lettrement et d’intération sociale. On fait aussi la défense de l’alphabétisation à travers l’approche historique-culturel et des pratiques sociales de lecture et écrite constituées dans le rapport je/l’autre. On discute encore quelques possibilités méthodologiques développées sur des projets d’enseignement qui puisse édifier le processus d'alphabétisation par l’activité de la communication verbale, c’ést à dire, par la parole reél comme énoncé concret. Pour la fin, on défendent la consolidation d’une méthodologie de l’alphabétisation qui favorise le développement de pratiques sociales pendent le processus de l’appropriation du système de l’écriture, au même temps que conduit à valorisation du sujet résponsable de la pensée, du parler et de l’agir. On recommend, ainsi, le renfort de politiques públiques de formation de professeurs dans le travail, en stimulant des attitudes responsables devant les sujets-étudiants, en leur formant de lecteurs et d’écrivains compétents.</p><p><strong>Mots-clés:</strong> Alphabétisation. Interactions verbale. Formation d’enseignant.</p>

In this paper we analyze discourses about Human Sciences within the social and political movement called Bolsonarism (movement in favor of the Brazilian president Jair Bolsonaro). Our objective is to relate repetitions of specific truths about this area to practices revealed by institutional attacks that minimize this field of knowledge and the subjects who work with it. Taking it into consideration, we support this work with theoretical perspectives proposed by Michel Foucault about enunciation, discourse, discourse practice, discourse formation, power, knowledge and truth. The corpus of this work surrounds a variety of enunciations made by the president Bolsonaro, former educational ministers and further supporters, which rebounded on digital medias. The study has a descriptive-qualitative character, with predominating qualitative approaches. Our analysis allows to perceive that the repetition of adverse discourses about Human Sciences reveals a project of unilateral and authoritarian power which primarily objectives to hinder a raising of subjects with critical opinions that may counteract the wills of a bolsonarist practical discourse. As it conceives this knowledge field as a target to be aimed, as a potential enemy, the bolsonarist project proposes to mischaracterize Human Sciences’ researches along the public opinion and, therefore, to scrap educational institutions and impoverish the scientific research.ResumoNeste artigo, analisam-se discursos sobre as Ciências Humanas no esteio do movimento social e político denominado de bolsonarismo. O intento é relacionar a repetição de determinadas verdades acerca dessa área do conhecimento com a prática que se revela em ataques institucionais para minimizar esse campo do saber e os sujeitos que nele atuam. Para tanto, busca-se respaldo teórico na perspectiva de Michel Foucault acerca do enunciado, do discurso, da prática discursiva, da formação discursiva, do poder, do saber e da verdade. O corpus de análise percorre diversos enunciados produzidos pelo presidente Bolsonaro, os ex-ministros da Educação e demais apoiadores, os quais tiveram repercussão na mídia digital. Trata-se de um estudo descritivo-qualitativo, cuja abordagem segue um viés predominantemente qualitativo. A análise possibilita entrever que a repetição de discursos desfavoráveis às Ciências Humanas revela um projeto de poder autoritário e unilateral que objetiva, sobretudo, minar a emergência de um sujeito crítico que possa contrariar as vontades de verdade da prática discursiva bolsonarista. Na medida em que concebe esse campo do saber como um alvo a ser atingido, como um inimigo em potencial, o projeto bolsonarista se propõe a descaracterizar as pesquisas das Ciências Humanas junto à opinião pública e, com isso, sucatear as instituições de ensino e precarizar a pesquisa científica.Palavras-chave: Análise do discurso, Ciências humanas, Poder político, Bolsonarismo.Keywords: Discourse analysis, Human Science, Political power, Bolsonarism.ReferencesAGOSTINI, Renata. MEC cortará verba de universidade por ‘balbúrdia’ e já enquadra UnB, UFF e UFBA. O Estado de S. Paulo, 2019. Disponível em: <https://educacao.estadao.com.br/noticias/geral,mec-cortara-verba-de-universidade-por-balburdia-e-ja-mira-unb-uff-e-ufba,70002809579> Acesso em: 02 jul. 2020.AMARAL, Luciana. Weintraub deixa saldo negativo e projeto sem perspectiva no Congresso. UOL, 2020. Disponível em: <https://noticias.uol.com.br/politica/ultimas-noticias/2020/06/25/weintraub-deixa-saldo-negativo-e-projeto-sem-perspectiva-no-congresso.htm> Acesso em: 02 jul. 2020. AVANÇA a perseguição ideológica às Ciências Humanas e Sociais. Associação Brasileira de Ciência Política, 2020. Disponível em: <https://cienciapolitica.org.br/noticias/2020/04/avanca-perseguicao-ideologica-ciencias-humanas-e-sociais> Acesso em: 01 jul. 2020.BOLSONARISTAS não querem Paulo Freire patrono da educação. Istoé, 2019. Disponível em: <https://istoe.com.br/bolsonaristas-nao-querem-paulo-freire-patrono-da-educacao/> Acesso em: 02 jul. 2020.BOLSONARO critica Paulo Freire, e Twitter lembra que ‘energúmeno’ é referência mundial em educação. HuffPost, 2019. Disponível em: <https://www.huffpostbrasil.com/entry/paulo-freire-energumeno_br_5df7d8fae4b0ae01a1e51db2> Acesso em: 02 jul. 2020.BOLSONARO diz que jovem brasileiro tem “tara” por formação superior. Exame, 2018. Disponível em: <https://exame.com/brasil/bolsonaro-diz-que-jovem-brasileiro-tem-tara-por-formacao-superior/> Acesso em: 30 jun. 2020.BORGES, Helena. Bolsonaro defende cortes em cursos de Humanas e diz que dinheiro do contribuinte deve ir para ‘leitura, escrita e fazer conta’. O Globo, 2019. Sociedade. Disponível em: <https://oglobo.globo.com/sociedade/bolsonaro-defende-cortes-em-cursos-de-humanas-diz-que-dinheiro-do-contribuinte-deve-ir-para-leitura-escrita-fazer-conta-23623980> Acesso em: 02 jul. 2020.CAFARDO, Renata. Ao avançar no ensino domiciliar, Bolsonaro prioriza 7 mil em vez de trabalhar para 45 milhões. Terra, 2019. Disponível em: <https://www.terra.com.br/noticias/educacao/ao-avancar-no-ensino-domiciliar-bolsonaro-prioriza-7-mil-em-vez-de-trabalhar-para-45-milhoes,90ffd9f6c72da49b96570fc30aaf39f33s9vyad2.html> Acesso em: 01 jul. 2020.CARLOS Bolsonaro diz que Humanas ensinam ‘como dar a rosca sem dor’. Catraca Livre, 2019. Disponível em: <https://catracalivre.com.br/cidadania/carlos-bolsonaro-diz-que-humanas-ensinam-como-dar-a-rosca-sem-dor/> Acesso em: 01 jul. 2020.CHARLOT, Bernard. A questão antropológica na Educação quando o tempo da barbárie está de volta, Educ. rev. Curitiba, v. 35 n.73, jan./fev. 2019.CURCINO, Luzmara. “Conheceis a verdade e elas vos libertará: livros na eleição presidencial de Bolsonaro, Discurso & Sociedad, Santiago, v. 13, n.3, p. 468- 494, 2019. ERNESTO, Marcelo. Entenda a briga entre olavistas e militares no governo Bolsonaro. Estado de Minas, 2019. Disponível em: <https://www.em.com.br/app/noticia/politica/2019/05/07/interna_politica,1051683/entenda-a-briga-entre-olavistas-e-militares-no-governo-bolsonaro.shtml> Acesso em: 02 jul. 2020.FIGUEIREDO, Patrícia. Bolsonaro mente ao dizer que Haddad criou o ‘kit gay’. El País, 2018. Disponível em: <https://brasil.elpais.com/brasil/2018/10/12/politica/1539356381_052616.html> Acesso em: 02 jul. 2020.FOUCAULT, Michel. A Arqueologia do Saber. 7. ed. Rio de Janeiro: Forense Universitária, 2008.FOUCAULT, Michel. Microfísica do Poder. Rio de Janeiro: Ed. Graal, 1998. GESTORES educacionais criticam falta de orientação do MEC durante a pandemia. Agência Câmara de Notícias, 2020. Disponível em: <https://www.camara.leg.br/noticias/657705-gestores-educacionais-criticam-falta-de-orientacao-do-mec-durante-a-pandemia/> acesso em: 02 jul. 2020.GIACOMONI, Marcelo Paniz.; VARGAS, Anderson Zalewski. Foucault, a Arqueologia do Saber e a Formação Discursiva. Veredas, Juiz de Fora, v. 14, n. 2, p. 119-129, fev/2010. Disponível em: <https://periodicos.ufjf.br/index.php/veredas/article/view/25129> Acesso em: 01 jul. 2020.GOVERNO Bolsonaro corta recursos da educação básica. Rede Brasil Atual, 2019. Disponível em: <https://www.redebrasilatual.com.br/educacao/2019/07/governo-bolsonaro-corta-recursos-da-educacao-basica/> Acesso em: 02 jul. 2020.JANARY JUNIOR; SILVEIRA, Wilson. Projeto revoga lei que declarou Paulo Freire patrono da educação. Agência Câmara de Notícias, 2019. Disponível em: <https://www.camara.leg.br/noticias/558470-projeto-revoga-lei-que-declarou-paulo-freire-patrono-da-educacao/> Acesso em: 02 jul. 2020.KLEM, Bruna Sultz. PEREIRA, Mateus; ARAÚJO, Valdei. (Org.). Do fake ao fato: (des) atualizando Bolsonaro. Vitória: Milfontes, 2020.MACHADO, Roberto. Por uma Genealogia do Poder. In.: FOUCAULT, Michel. Microfísica do Poder. Rio de Janeiro: Ed. Graal, 1998.MARTINS, Maria do Carmo. Reflexos reformistas: o ensino das humanidades na ditadura militar brasileira e as formas duvidosas de esquecer, Educ. rev. Curitiba, n. 51, p. 37-50, jan./mar. 2014.MENEZES, Dyelle; PERA, Guilherme. “É a maior revolução na área de ensino no país dos últimos 20 anos”, diz ministro. Gov.br, 2019. Disponível em: <http://portal.mec.gov.br/ultimas-noticias/12-acoes-programas-e-projetos-637152388/83511-e-a-maior-revolucao-na-area-de-ensino-no-pais-dos-ultimos-20-anos-diz-ministro> Acesso em: 02 jul. 2020.MINISTRO Vélez diz que vai revisar livros didáticos sobre golpe de 64 e ditadura. G1, 2019. Disponível em: <https://g1.globo.com/jornal-nacional/noticia/2019/04/04/ministro-velez-diz-que-vai-revisar-livros-didaticos-sobre-golpe-de-64-e-ditadura.ghtml> Acesso em: 02 jul. 2020.ORDINE, Nuccio. A utilidade do inútil: um manifesto. Trad. Luiz Bombassaro. Rio de Janeiro: Zahar, 2016.‘OLAVISTAS’ acusam militares de sabotagem e de isolar o ministro da Educação. Gazeta do Povo, 2019. Disponível em: <https://www.gazetadopovo.com.br/educacao/olavistas-acusam-militares-de-sabotagem-e-de-isolar-o-ministro-da-educacao-6s7bb3fxu0ji5d76moblcpxhp/> Acesso em: 02 jul. 2020.‘OLAVISTAS’ e militares estão entre os grupos que brigam por poder no Ministério da Educação. Itatiaia, 2019. Disponível em: <https://www.itatiaia.com.br/noticia/olavistas-emilitaresestao-entre-os-grupos-que> Acesso em: 02 jul. 2020.OLIVEIRA, Rodrigo Perez. O negacionismo científico olavista: a radicalização de um certo regime epistemológico. In: KLEM, B. S.; PEREIRA, M.; ARAÚJO, V. (Org.). Do fake ao fato: (des) atualizando Bolsonaro. Vitória: Milfontes, 2020. p. 81-100.ORGIS, Guido. O que o MEC pode fazer além de discutir o ‘olavismo’. Gazeta do Povo, 2019. Disponível em: <https://www.gazetadopovo.com.br/vozes/guido-orgis/o-que-o-mec-pode-fazer-alem-de-discutir-o-olavismo/> Acesso em: 02 jul. 2020.PAULO Freire é declarado patrono da educação brasileira. Agência Senado, 2012. Sanções/Vetos. Disponível em: <https://www12.senado.leg.br/noticias/materias/2012/04/16/paulo-freire-e-declarado-patrono-da-educacao-brasileira> Acesso em: 02 jul. 2020.PROPOSTA DE PLANO GOVERNO DE JAIR BOLSONARO. O caminho da prosperidade, 2018. Disponível em: <http://divulgacandcontas.tse.jus.br/candidaturas/oficial/2018/BR/BR/2022802018/280000614517/proposta_1534284632231.pdf>. Acesso em: 05 jul. 2020.PRATA, Pedro. Propostas para a educação: o que já foi feito pelo governo Bolsonaro? O Estado de S. Paulo, 2019. Disponível em: <https://politica.estadao.com.br/noticias/geral,propostas-para-a-educacao-o-que-ja-foi-feito-pelo-governo-bolsonaro,70002857514> Acesso em: 02 jul. 2020.REZENDE, Costança. Weintraub: 'Não quero sociólogo, antropólogo e filósofo com meu dinheiro', Uol, 2020.Disponível em <https://noticias.uol.com.br/colunas/constanca-rezende/2020/06/14/weintraub-nao-quero-sociologo-antropologo-e-filosofo-com-meu-dinheiro.htm>. Acesso em 07 jul. 2020.ROCHA, Gessyca. Vélez teve a terceira gestão mais curta no MEC desde 1985; veja lista com todos os ministros. G1, 2019. Disponível em: <https://g1.globo.com/educacao/noticia/2019/04/08/velez-teve-a-terceira-gestao-mais-curta-no-mec-desde-1985-veja-tempo-de-gestao-de-todos-os-ministros.ghtml> Acesso em: 01 jul. 2020.SALDAÑA, Paulo. Em meio a pandemia, governo Bolsonaro investe contra pesquisa em ciências humanas. Folha de S. Paulo, 2020. Disponível em: <https://www1.folha.uol.com.br/educacao/2020/03/em-meio-a-pandemia-governo-bolsonaro-investe-contra-pesquisa-em-ciencias-humanas.shtml> Acesso em: 01 jul. 2020.SALDAÑA, Paulo. Gestão de Weintraub no MEC foi marcada por ataques e projetos parados. Folha de S. Paulo, 2020. Disponível em: <https://www1.folha.uol.com.br/educacao/2020/06/gestao-de-weintraub-no-mec-foi-marcada-por-ataques-e-projetos-parados.shtml> Acesso em: 01 jul. 2020.SANTOS, Fabiano, TANSCHEIT, Talita. Quando velhos atores saem de cena: a ascensão da nova direita política no Brasil, Colomb.int, Bogotá, n.99,p. 151-186, jul/sep. 2019.SEIXAS, Rodrigo. A retórica da pós-verdade: o problema das convicções. EID&A, Ilhéus, n. 18, p. 122-138, abr./2019. Disponível em: <file:///C:/Users/Cliente%20Especial/Desktop/MESTRADO/LEITURAS%20DE%20TEXTOS/SEIXAS%20(TEXTO).pdf> Acesso em: 03 jun. 2020.SIMON, Rodrigo. Novos critérios da Capes vão cortar bolsas até de cursos de excelência. Folha de S. Paulo, 2020. Disponível em: <https://www1.folha.uol.com.br/ciencia/2020/03/novos-criterios-da-capes-vao-cortar-bolsas-ate-de-cursos-de-excelencia.shtml> Acesso em: 01 jul. 2020.SOUZA, Isabela. Projeto Escola Sem Partido: argumentos contra e a favor. Politize. 2018. Disponível em: <https://www.politize.com.br/projeto-escola-sem-partido/> Acesso em: 02 jul. 2020.VEJA. Vídeo completo: a reunião de Bolsonaro com Ministros em 22 de abril. 2020. (1h32m40s). Disponível em: <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nfgv7DLdCqA> Acesso em: 15 jun. 2020.VEJA. Universidades com ‘balbúrdia’ terão verbas reduzidas, diz Weintraub, 2019. Disponível em: <https://veja.abril.com.br/brasil/universidades-com-balburdia-terao-verbas-reduzidas-diz-weintraub/>. Acesso em: 05 jun. 2020.VILELA, Pedro Rafael. Bolsonaro anuncia Carlos Decotelli como novo ministro da Educação. Agência Brasil, 2020. Política. Disponível em: <https://agenciabrasil.ebc.com.br/politica/noticia/2020-06/bolsonaro-anuncia-carlos-decotelli-como-novo-ministro-da-educacao> Acesso em: 30 jun. 2020.ZINET, Caio. Especialistas descontroem os 5 principais argumentos do Escola Sem Partido. Educação Integral, 2016. Notícias. Disponível em: <https://educacaointegral.org.br/reportagens/especialistas-desconstroem-os-5-principais-argumentos-escola-sem-partido/> Acesso em: 02 jul. 2020.e4524141

After Alberti, the “architecture project” started to be understood as an autonomous entity mediating two separate phenomena: the conception of an architectural artifact and its eventual execution. In 1967, Sol LeWitt advocates a new framework for artistic practice, which he calls “conceptual”, saying that “when an artist uses a conceptual form of art, it means that all of the planning and decisions are made beforehand and the execution is a perfunctory affair”. Apparently, LeWitt merely seems to claim, within the scope of visual arts, an operative model similar to what Alberti inaugurated within the scope of architecture. However, I do not believe that this is all he does. I propose to dicuss the enunciability of architectural artifacts, comparing and contrasting the operative model of the “project” inaugurated by Alberti – which is essentially formal (the project is mainly constituted by drawings) – vis-à-vis the operative model that is characteristic to conceptual art – essentially discoursive (the idea can be verbalized). In this way, I also propose to discuss how the issue of the fidelity to the “executed work” in relation to its enunciation can be addressed within these two approches. * A partir de Alberti, o “projecto de arquitectura” terá começado a ser entendido como uma entidade autónoma e intermediária entre dois fenómenos independentes: a concepção de um artefacto arquitectónico e a sua eventual execução. Em 1967, Sol LeWitt preconiza uma nova conjuntura para a prática artística, que designa como “conceptual”, afirmando que “quando um artista usa uma forma de arte conceptual, isso significa que todo o planeamento e todas as decisões são efectuados de antemão e que a execução é uma tarefa perfunctória”. Aparentemente, LeWitt parece não fazer mais do que reivindicar, para o âmbito das artes visuais, uma conjuntura operativa semelhante àquela que Alberti terá inaugurado no âmbito da arquitectura. Contudo, julgo que não é apenas isso que faz. Proponho discutir a enunciabilidade dos artefactos arquitectónicos, confrontando o modelo operativo do “projecto” inaugurado por Alberti – essencialmente formal (o projecto é sobretudo desenho) – com o modelo operativo característico da arte conceptual – essencialmente discursivo (a ideia pode ser verbalizável). Neste sentido, proponho ainda discutir de que modo, nestas duas conjunturas, pode colocar-se o problema da fidelidade da “obra executada” ao respectivo enunciado.

Recent research projects and conferences devoted to the book arts have responded to Johanna Drucker’s 2005 call that a more rigorous theoretical underpinning of the field of book art production needs to be established urgently. Yet these projects and conferences, resultant from the participation of artists and other practitioners in the field, not surprisingly, have biased their discussions on the book arts towards practice and away from theory. In establishing that a need still exists for an appropriate lens through which the artist’s book might be more rigorously and theoretically examined, this article explored the following publications: Stéphane Mallarmé and Marcel Broodthaers’s Un coup de dés, Buzz Spector’s reductive Marcel Broodthaers, Ulises Carrión’s For fans and scholars alike and Helen Douglas and Telfer Stokes’s Real fiction. These specific examples, and particularly their relationships and dialogues which each other, were examined through a lens provided by the Russian philosopher and literary theorist Mikhail Bakhtin’s writings on dialogism and heteroglossia. These critical terms, which demonstrate the dialogic, multivocal and heteroglot voices between works in history and within themselves, as cultural utterances, were shown to be appropriate and useful frames for the analysis of particular qualities which enunciate the presence of artists’ books in the world: self-consciousness, discursive perceptivity and reflexivity. I therefore, applied Bakhtin’s notions of dialogism and heteroglossia to the task of proposing a theoretical foundation for the artist’s book, as a dynamic visual language, which is relational and engaged in a process of endless redescriptions of the world.

Non-Muslim permanent residents of an Islamic state were traditionally conferred a kind of nationality status which was juridically defined as dhimmah (protected). With the demise of Islamic Caliphate System and the constitutional collapse of its underlying principles and the subsequent emergence of nation-states, its retention, redefinition, or even abandonment became a subject of intense debate particularly among modern jurists. By and large, within juristic community the discourse has followed two divergent trends, namely the paradigm of traditionalists and that of re-constructionists. The former regards dhimmah as a permanently fixed concept and an integral part of immutable laws of the sharʑah, while the latter views it as a historically contingent institution capable of adaptation to fit the notion of modern citizenship in post-caliphate modern nation states. Consequently, this tussle has given rise to two divergent discourses among the researchers outside the Islamic faith. Some hail the traditionalist approach as more authentic voice, while others applaud the re-constructionist project as more sensible alternative paradigm capable of harmonizing Islamic law with modern notion of citizenship for Non-Muslim subjects of a Muslim state as envisioned by Universal Declaration of Human Rights (see article 15). This article proves that in both sides of the divide the emphasis on constitutional dimension of the issue has not been sufficiently explored hence attempts to place the debate in its true context so as to avoid the folly of singularly insisting on reinstating the dhimmah without the ability to revive its constitutional bases or wholly equating it with the concept of citizenship in a liberal sense as some make us to enunciate.

International audience The prose of Kazimierz Brandys shows a constant questioning about its narrative structures. It reveals different tricks concerning the organization of the literary fiction: crypto-biography, mixing genres and styles, decomposition of discursive forms, self-creation, self-review (reinterpretations of previous works on the principle of distancing), romantic stylization, etc. Writing signs are pathetically opposed with notes of diarist tirelessly scrutinizing the daily realities. The rhetoric of the author of Letters to Ms Z never disregards the horizon of the readers expectations, Theartistic project of The Notebooks seems to be carried out through a dialectic confrontation (voluntarily articulated) between romantic fiction and the logbook. Indeed, Autobiography establishes a kind of separation between the two programmed me (the one of the statement, and of the enunciation), between the wrinting person and the described character. Moreover, at any time the purpose is to update the vision of«realistic» things perceived, without sacrificing the consciousness, the fundamental concern of literary performance. Brandys tries to snatch the romance of its only narrative function, creating fables and stories, and invest alongside another duty, that of restoring a privileged contact with the surrounding world. la prose de Kazimierz Brandys exhibe un questionnement constant à propos de ses structures narratives. On y découvre différents stratagèmes au niveau de l’organisation de la fiction littéraire : crypto-biographie, mélange de genres et de styles, décomposition des formes discursives, auto-création, auto-commentaire (relectures des oeuvres précédentes selon le principe de la distanciation), stylisation romantique, etc. Les signes de l’écriture s’opposent de manière pathétique aux notes de diariste scrutant inlassablement les réalités quotidiennes. La rhétorique de l’auteur de Lettres à Madame Z ne fait jamais abstraction de l’horizon d’attente des lecteurs du moment, ceux qui abordent le texte dans un lieu et un tempsbien définis. Le projet artistique des Carnets semble être mené à bien à travers un affrontement dialectique (volontairement articulé) entre la fiction romanesque et le journal de bord. C’est bien l’autobiographie qui établit une sorte de séparation programmée entre les deux moi (celui de l’énoncé, celui de l’énonciation), entre la personne écrivant et le personnage qu’elle décrit. De surcroît, il s’agit à tout moment de réactualiser la vision « réaliste » des choses perçues au fil des jours, sans toutefois renoncer à la conscience, au souci fondamental de la performance littéraire. Brandys s’efforce d’arracher le roman à sa fonction exclusivement narrative, génératrice de fables et de récits, pour l’investir parallèlement d’un autre devoir, celui de restaurer un contact privilégié avec le monde ambiant. Proza Kazimierza Brandysa ujawnia liczne eksperymenty narracyjne. Przybiera ona formy gatunkowe takie jak krypto-biografia, powieść auto tematyczna, powieść epistolarna, wywiad radiowy, reportaż, nota do wydawcy, scenariusz filmowy itp. Eseizacja opowiadań, estetyka fragmentu, montaż utworu z kawałków innych tekstów, to typowe cechy wypowiedzi sylwicznych. Natomiast mniej więcej od połowy lat siedemdziesiątych autor Nierzeczywistości i Ronda próbuje systematycznie łączyć formułę wypowiedzi powieściowej z dokumentaryzmem. Odtąd właśnie autobiografia, jako określone i wybrane miejsce kreacyjnych zmagań, pozwala Brandysowi na programowe rozszczepienie “ja” autorskiego od “ja” bohatera opowiadającego. Metoda ta prowadzi go nieuchronnie do załamań i falowań głównych linii kompozycyjnych. Technika przebrań fabularnych oraz dialektycznych zderzeń świata fikcjonalnego z rzeczywistym rzuca podwaliny pod oryginalny rodzaj poetyki, której ramy umacniają się w miarę jak doskonalą się środki warsztatowe pisarza od powieści do dziennika i od dziennika do powieści. Przygody Robinsona jawią się nam, w zestawieniu z Rondem, Miesiącami czy Zapamiętanym jako częściowy (choć nie całkowity) powrót do literackiej fikcji sensu stricto, a przynajmniej do kilku jej koronnychatrybutów. Tak więc w konsekwencji zwycięża świadoma gra z czytelnikiem, którastaje się atrakcyjną sprężyną utworu. Przeszczep fikcji w prawdziwe przeżycia autoranie udaje się, albowiem fikcja i nieprawda to dwie różne sprawy nie przystające dosiebie. Po przeczytaniu tej powieści mamy wrażenie, że Kazimierz Brandys jest świadomfaktu, iż “autentyczna”, godna zaufania autobiografia, gdyby nawet przyjąć, żetaka istnieje, może co najwyżej, biorąc pod uwagę niedoskonałość wszelkiej konwencjireality show, pretendować do rangi nieudanej tragedii.

Through Andy Warhol, much important thinking about the meanings of celebrity for a capitalist, schizoid world takes place — by Andy, by his significant others (Pat Hackett, Bob Colacello, Brigid Berlin), and by the consumers and contemplators of his works. Both a source of his own observations and a screen on which philosophies are projected, Warhol presents an unparalleled critique of celebrity. Other horizontalities, such as Madonna’s, do not generate half the heat as Warhol’s own tendril-like intrusion into so many aspects of the media machine (music, publishing, modeling, painting, film-making, writing). Exchanging competence for breadth, Warhol follows Michel de Certeau’s critique of Freud in Heterologies: Discourse on the Other perfectly: he, too, makes a “conquista” of disciplines and practices outside his sphere of competence. Warhol’s comments with respect to actress Janet Gaynor’s paintings after her May 1976 opening at Manhattan’s Wally Findlay Gallery refer both to Gaynor and himself: “‘The paintings are so bad…but I bet they go up. Look how big she signs her name. It’s like buying an autograph and then you get the flowers thrown in, right?’” (Colacello 289). Comprehending the power of branding, Warhol grants autograph primacy over “autographed.” Factoring the art market into his aesthetics, Warhol founds his definition about what counts as art upon what counts as economics. Through him, business art truly comes into its own. Contemplating art suddenly means comprehending art’s social and financial contexts as well — as when, for example, Warhol ponders the absence of a black audience for his work: “Some blacks recognized me a few times this weekend, and I’m trying to figure out what they recognize so I can somehow sell it to them, whatever it is” (Diaries, Sunday 3 July 1977). Setting his own life up as a philosophical object, Warhol exemplifies astrophysics’ great question of how nothing can produce something. Fashion philosophe himself, he also answers fellow thinker Quentin Crisp’s important question about how “zero” becomes “one.” For both Warhol and Crisp, celebrity is founded upon the algebraic exchange of a positive quantity (fame) for a placeholding nonquantity (nonentity). In How to Have a Life-Style, Crisp traces his interest in the proliferative zero to the educative childhood lunchtime acquisition which first taught him the importance of spontaneous generation: One day, when I was lying as naked as the Greater London Council would allow on a few planks in the “life” room of Walthamstowe College of Art, a student came and sat beside me. It did not befit my station in life to begin a conversation with her. My supposition was that she wished less to be with me than in front of the only electric heater in the place. I was amazed when she asked me if I would like some of the chocolate that formed the “afters” of her instant lunch. I sat up at once. My limbs were galvanized, as though insulin had been pumped into my muscles, by the thought of getting something for nothing. The girl broke her slab of chocolate in two and handed me half. (3) For Crisp, the production of celebrity from nonentity echoes other unbalanced nonexchanges; concerned with similar economic aberrances, Warhol takes a related pleasure in the freak appearance of fame. Like Crisp, he also finds himself “galvanized” by the prospect of converting the null set into the productive series. Setting himself up as a “stargazer” (Stephen Koch’s epithet), Warhol makes it his project to reflect the fame of others, while using those reflections to garner fame for himself. Becoming a surface, Warhol makes fame a question of optics. Throughout the Diaries, we witness Warhol’s constant attention to his own appearance: “Got my live-in contacts but I can’t read or draw in them. Do they have bifocals you can wear with contacts? It’s so scary to wake up in the middle of the night and be able to see” (Tuesday 11 Aug. 1981). Normality is consistently painted in the fauve colors of the bizarre — in this quote, vision becomes a source of disorientation. Sight and unsight cross wires. Rather than facilitate the production of his art, ocular prostheses impede it — implying that he is a better artist when blind or half-sighted. Even odder is the fact that Warhol’s new contacts boost his performance as a model. That someone with so “off” an appearance should ever qualify as model material seems almost like a cruel insider joke (as in John Waters’ 1972 film Female Trouble, the repulsive is given new life as the gorgeous). Warhol had always been interested in modeling, though, as a 1968 photo shoot, “The Status Shirt Put On,” demonstrates. The caption reads: “Andy Warhol, right, garnishes velvet pants ($40, from Stone the Crows) with chains, belts and a lace-trimmed dinner shirt from Turnbull & Asser ($40, Bonwit Teller).” Situated at the confluence of status, fashion and chicanery, Warhol as putter-on emerges from his chrysalis as a model — someone meant to be looked at and emulated, a body meant to be run through the media machine and copied. As the Diaries draw to a close, Warhol’s modeling career provides him with his final cultural act: “In the morning I was preparing myself for my appearance in the fashion show Benjamin coordinated at the Tunnel. They’d sent the clothes over and I look like Liberace in them. Should I just go all the way and be the new Liberace? Snakeskin and rabbit fur. Julian Schnabel (laughs) would be so impressed he would start wearing them” (Tuesday 17 Feb. 1987). Bob Colacello is less than kind in his analysis of Warhol as model: Zoli did get him a couple of runway jobs and Daniela Morela put him in a L’Uomo Vogue spread jumping up and down with some other cute guys, but it was obvious that he was being used for his joke value. That October, Halston asked him to model in a Martha Graham charity fashion show as Bloomingdale’s. He didn’t appear until the end of the show, accompanied by Victor Hugo. His face was caked with makeup and he wore a voluminous royal blue taffeta smock with a big red bow around his neck. He looked like a cross between a clown and a Christmas present. Victor wore the same outfit in emerald green. As Andy minced down the runway, I could hear the ladies around me buzz. The words they used were weirdo, creep, and sissy. (442-3) Bursting Warhol’s balloon, and probably paying him back for countless episodes of personal humiliation, Colacello points out the strangeness of Warhol’s new career choice. Like so many other classes of people (old bags, debs), models pique Andy’s curiosity by virtue of their ontological freshness. In his Diaries, Warhol expresses a keen interest in model anthropology: how this new breed of human beings and these new workers comport themselves commands attention. Their language bemuses him: “Jerry Hall came by with a Halston model named Carol, and models just all talk that baby talk, the girls and the boys — you always know you’re talking to a model” (Wednesday 8 July 1981). Like all other industry-bound jargons, model talk emerges from a concrete set of practices and concerns. All creatures from the modeling industry seem to partake of its linguistic possibilities: “Went into the kitchen for coffee in the main house. Pat Cleveland was reading her Latin books and her mind-control books…She was after Jon, showing him how to walk like you have a dime up your ass and they did that well. She talks model talk. And she plays the flute. And she does yoga. All those things” (Saturday 11 July 1981). Generically distinct from other public creatures, models have their own enunciative staples and rules for structuring an utterance. Like Martians, they have their own unique mode of communicating. Ever interested in specificity, Warhol cannot help but be intrigued by the novelty of their speech; in its simplicity and in its constant juvenilization, their language mirrors his own. Saturated with Hollywoodisms, like “up-there” or “the kids,” Warhol’s vocabulary and syntax point to the existence of other linguistic subsystems and idioms. What matters most is the existence of what de Certeau refers to as a “way of operating,” a mode of getting around. Warhol’s fascination with celebrity species informs his own attention to his development over time. Reflecting important fashion debates of the decades he inhabits, Warhol makes his body a living record of all that transpires around it. As in Richard Avedon’s famous photograph of Warhol’s torso (Andy Warhol, Artist, New York City, 8/20/69), his body tells a story — in this instance, about Valerie Solanas’ rage and its traces. Warhol gets to know Warhol, recording his own oscillations in image: “Everyone tells me they like my hair this new way. I cut it every day. It’s almost a crewcut. Fred said I dress like the kids I hang around with now, he likes it. I guess the preppie look really is big because of the Preppie Handbook. I’m wearing all of Jed’s leftover clothes, the ones he left behind. I’m so skinny they fit me now” (Wednesday 8 July 1981). Warhol monitors his appearance with precision, never failing to provide his readers with the details of his transformation from one type to another. With almost an evolutionary sensibility, Warhol traces the development of new styles while also showing the effect they have on his own aesthetic of dressing. Inextricably immersed in time, Warhol gives in to its flows, which wash over him, carrying his body along with their currents. Similarly, he keeps meticulous track of styles of locomotion, as when, after a Twyla Tharp show, he comments: “The dancing, it’s a funny new kind of dancing, falling and tripping, and it looks like disco dancing. It looks like if you had a creative person on the disco floor, that they would do this (intermission drinks $10)” (Thursday, February 15, 1979). Using his early films, like Vinyl, to document dance styles, such as the frug, Warhol records different ways of posturing. He also documents the emergence of new social diseases: “The Donahue Show was on the flasher problem. This is a big important new problem, right? Men who flash. A wife and her husband who flashed were on, they were in the dark, and businessmen and lawyers who flashed” (Monday 28 July 1980). Within the hypermediated universe of capitalism, everything has its fifteen moments of fame, including problems. Ever the voyeur, Warhol makes note of new trends in exhibitionism, well aware that the job of the talk show is to fabricate and disseminate new fears (What do I do if my neighbor flashes me?, etc.). Fears, too, are commodities, as discussed by Barry Glossner in his The Culture of Fear. Alongside locomotionary styles and fashion creature Feynmann sums, anxieties wax and wane in popularity, produced, dissolved and eventually recycled by the media as products-of-the-week. Recognizing the new status of the media in everyday life, Warhol dedicates himself to recording its fluctuations for the purposes of fashion documentary, biography and contemplation. Positing glamour as a breakdown in the fashion system, Warhol offers a worldview in which the faux pas, the leftover and the mismatched forge an aesthetics of desperation. Warhol is the vehicle for fame. Through him, this abstract entity comes to know itself as such, realizing its possibilities through sensual and material objectification. References Books Colacello, Bob. Holy Terror: Andy Warhol Close Up. New York: Cooper Square Press, 1990. Crisp, Quentin. How to Have a Life-Style. Los Angeles: Alyson Books, 1998. De Certeau, Michel. Heterologies: Discourse on the Other. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1986. Glossner, Barry. The Culture of Fear. New York: Basic Books, 1999. Warhol, Andy. The Warhol Diaries. New York: Warner Books, 1989. ——— and Hackett, Pat. POPism: The Warhol Sixties. New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1980. Articles “The Status Shirt Put On.” Look. 12 Nov. 1968. Time Capsule –12. Films Warhol, Andy. Vinyl, 1965. Waters, John. Female Trouble. New Line Cinema, 1972. Citation reference for this article MLA Style Tata, Michael Angelo. "Beyond the Stars: Warholian Meta-Celebrity." M/C Journal 7.5 (2004). echo date('d M. Y'); ?> <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0411/11-tata.php>. APA Style Tata, M. (Nov. 2004) "Beyond the Stars: Warholian Meta-Celebrity," M/C Journal, 7(5). Retrieved echo date('d M. Y'); ?> from <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0411/11-tata.php>.

This series of digital cut-ups offers a personal response to my readings of selected works by Luce Irigaray, using words, images, and graphemes from domestic cookery books as ingredients for thinking and writing. Through these textual montage experiments, I engage with parler-femme (speaking (as) woman) as both concept and practice to explore love, fluidity, and desire through multiple mimetic modes. Textual montage is an alternative writing practice that foregrounds embodied ways of knowing (Emberley). By merging and juxtaposing diverse elements in non-linear modes, textual montage encourages the visual to enter the written, exposing the conditions of reading, writing and making meaning (Lupton). This opens a space of dialogue that challenges scholarly conventions surrounding “the essay form and the production of knowledge within its logics, rhetorics, and silences” (Emberley 72). This project uses an eclectic range of mass-produced cookbooks from 1928 to 1962 as source material for textual montage. These texts are intended for domestic use by women, as evidenced by their modes of direct address, and/or illustrations or photographs. This reflects the traditional construction of cooking as a gendered practice undertaken by women in Western societies within the private sphere of the home (Fleitz). While such allegiance to the sexual division of domestic labour mobilises hierarchies of race and sexuality in addition to gender (Hill Collins), domestic cookbooks represent collective social, embodied and textual practices that are constructed as being specific to women (Fleitz). Importantly, such constructions are not static. As evidenced by the revisions and amendments made to popular cookbooks over time, texts about domestic cooking are shaped by broader technological, cultural, social, and economic conditions. This is apparent in several of the source texts I have used, which have been revised or updated to acknowledge changes to ingredient availability or type (Royles Food Products), cooking techniques (Wijey), kitchen equipment (Wijey; Bentley; Howard), or health research (Davy in Royles Food Products) current at the time of their publication. In addition, three of the source texts reflect the historic relationship between women’s magazines and commercially published cookbooks (State Library of Victoria). The Delineator Cook Book (1928, taken from the New Butterick Cook Book), the Australian Women’s Weekly Cookery Book (c.1950), and Good Housekeeping’s Picture Cake Making (c.1955) are all published by popular magazine franchises, positioning domestic cookery within the sphere of consumer culture. Here, the inclusion of a text by the Australian Women’s Weekly (AWW) is particularly significant, as this franchise has achieved “trusted brand status” among many consumers within Australia, and continues to publish cookbooks today (State Library of Victoria). The enduring relationship between the AWW and domestic cooking in Australia indicates the importance of cookbooks in communicating knowledge between different generations of women, as both established and innovative foodmaking practices are circulated by a collectively known and “trusted” source. In constructing this inter-generational body of knowledge, women are of central importance as both authors and readers of cookbooks, in contrast to many other spheres of activity where their knowledge and participation has historically been subjugated or limited (Fleitz). In considering this, my inclusion of textual montage elements from cookbooks produced by, and/or used by, different generations of women acknowledges the maternal genealogy made absent within patriarchal Western thought and institutions (Irigaray). Although cookbooks are a source of instruction, they can also facilitate women’s experimentation and innovation (Supski). When women revise or recast cookbook recipes, they perform an authorship role by editing or rewriting the original text (Fleitz). Similarly, textual montage is a dynamic and performative process that complicates notions of the author (Emberley) while challenging the conventional “recipe” of writing; demonstrating the parallel between cooking and women’s writing as forms of embodied knowledge (Fleitz). In this project, textual montage aligns to the “thoughtful practice” of cooking, which entwines knowledge and practical application (Heldke 203). In writing through my body, I reject the binary opposition between thinking and doing, and advance parler-femme as a practice of enunciation (Irigaray). In cutting and reassembling the language of domestic cookery within an alternative context, I seek to open it to different modes of thought, address, and sensual affect. Here, I endeavour to present a series of playful encounters that embrace the potentiality, plurality, and mutability of language in the feminine. Fig. 1. As she is rendered Fig. 2. Re: generative organs Fig. 3. Fluid measuresReferencesAustralian Woman’s Weekly. The Australian Woman’s Weekly Cookery Book. Compiled by the Food and Cookery Experts of the Australian’s Women’s Weekly under the direction of Leila C Howard. Sydney: Consolidated Press, c.1950. Delineator Home Institute. Delineator Cook Book. Rev. ed. Ed. Mildred Maddocks Bentley. New York: Butterick, 1928. Emberley, Julia. “Body, Interrupted: Textual Montage, Traumatised Bodies, and the De-disciplining of Knowledge.” Resources for Feminist Research. 29 (2002): 69–84. Fleitz, Elizabeth. “Cooking Codes: Cookbook Discourses as Women’s Rhetorical Practices.” Present Tense. 1 (2010): 1–8. Good Housekeeping. Good Housekeeping’s Picture Cake Making. Melbourne:Colorgravure, c.1955.Heldke, Lisa M. “Foodmaking as Thoughtful Practice.” Cooking, Eating, Thinking: Transformative Philosophies of Food. Ed. Deane W. Curtin, and Lisa Maree Heldke. Bloomington: Indiana UP, 1992. 203–29.Hill Collins, Patricia. “It’s all in the Family: Intersections of Gender, Race, and Nation.” Hypatia.13 (1998): 62–82.Irigaray, Luce. The Irigaray Reader. Ed. Margaret Whitford. Oxford: Blackwell, 1991.Lupton, Ellen and Miller, J. Abbott. “Deconstruction and Graphic Design: History Meets Theory.” Visible Language. 28 (1994): 346–66.Royles Food Products. Cardiol Good Health Cook Book. Sydney: Royles Food Products, 1962.State Library of Victoria. “Research Guides: Food in Victoria”. State Library of Victoria. 9 May 2013. 28 May 2013. ‹http://guides.slv.vic.gov.au/content.php?pid=338940&sid=2771583›.Supski, Sian. “‘We Still Mourn that Book’: Cookbooks, Recipes and Foodmaking Knowledge in 1950s Australia.” Journal of Australian Studies. 28 (2005): 85–94.Wijey, Mabel. Ed. Warne’s Everyday Cookery. Revised ed. London: Frederick Warne, 1929.

Drawing on my recent experience of working in collaboration with the artist-led project, Open City, I want to explore the potential of an active and resistant - rather than passive and acquiescent – form of stillness that can be activated strategically within a performance-based practice. The article examines how stillness and other forms of non-productive or non-teleological activity might contribute towards the production of a radically dissenting – yet affirmative – model of contemporary subjectivity. It will investigate how the performance of stillness within an artistic practice could offer a pragmatic model through which to approach certain philosophical concepts in relation to the construction of subjectivity, by proposing a practical application of the various ideas explored therein. Stillness is often presented as antithetical to the velocity, mobility, speed and supposed freedom proposed by new technologies and the various accelerated modes by which we are encouraged to engage with the world. In one sense, stillness and slowness have been deemed outmoded or anachronistic forms of temporality, as fastness and efficiency have become the privileged terms. Alternatively, stillness has been reclaimed as part of a resistant – or at least reactive – “counter-culture” for challenging the enforced and increased pace at which we are required to perform. The intent, however, is not to focus on the transcendent possibilities – or even nostalgic dimension – of stillness, where it could be seen as a form of escape from the accelerated temporalities of contemporary capitalism, a move towards a slower, more spiritual or meditative existence by the removal of or self-imposed isolation from contemporary societal pressures. Instead, this article attempts to explore the potential within those forms of stillness specifically produced in and by contemporary capitalism, by reflecting on how they might be (re)inhabited – or appropriated through an artistic practice – as sites of critical action. The article will suggest ways in which habitually resented, oppressive or otherwise tedious forms of stillness, inaction or immobility can be turned into active or resistant strategies for producing the self differently to dominant ideological expectations or pressures. With reference to selected theoretical ideas primarily within the writing of Gilles Deleuze – especially in relation to Spinoza’s Ethics – I want to explore how the collective performance of stillness in the public realm produces an affect that both reveals and disrupts habitual patterns of behaviour. Stillness presents a break or pause in the flow of events, illuminating temporal gaps and fissures in which alternative or unexpected possibilities – for life – might be encountered and encouraged. The act of collective stillness can be understood as a mode of playful resistance to, or refusal of, societal norms, a wilful and collaborative attempt to break or rupture habitual flows. However, collective stillness also has the capacity to exceed or move beyond resistance by producing germinal conditions for a nascent community of experience no longer bound by existing protocol; a model of “communitas” emerging from the shared act of being still. The focus then, is to reflect on how the gesture of stillness performed within the context of an artistic practice – such as that of Open City – might offer an exemplar for the production of an affirmative form of subjectivity, by arguing how the practice of stillness paradoxically has the potential for increasing an individual’s capacity to act. Open City is an investigation-led artistic project – led by Andrew Brown and Katie Doubleday – that explores how public space is conceptualised and organised by interrogating the ways in which our daily actions and behaviours are conditioned and controlled. Their research activity involves inviting, instructing or working with members of the public to create discreet interventions and performances, which put into question or destabilise habitual patterns or conventions of public behaviour, through the use of invitations, propositions, site-specific actions and performative events. The practical and theoretical research phase of the Open City project was initiated in 2006 in collaboration with artist/performer Simone Kenyon. During this phase of research Open City worked with teachers of the Alexander Technique deconstructing the mechanics of walking, and observed patterns of group behaviour and ‘everyday’ movements in public spaces. This speculative phase of research was expanded upon through a pilot project where the artists worked with members of the public, inviting them to attempt to get lost in the city, to consider codes of conduct through observation and mimicry, to explore behavioural patterns in the public realm as a form of choreography, and to approach the spaces of the city as an amphitheatre or stage upon which to perform. This culminated in a series of public performances and propositional/instructive works as part of the nottdance festival in Nottingham (2007) where audiences were invited to participate in choreographed events, creating a number of fleeting and partially visible performances throughout the city. Members of the public were issued specific time-based invitations for collective and individual actions such as ‘Day or night – take a walk in which you notice and deliberately avoid CCTV cameras’ or ‘On the high street during rush hour … suddenly and without warning, stop and remain still for five minutes … then carry on walking as before.’ Image 1: Open City, documentation of publicly-sited postcards. As part of this phase of activity, I was invited by Open City to produce a piece of writing in response to their work – to be serialised over a number of publicly distributed postcards – which would attempt to critically contextualise the various issues and concerns emerging from the investigation-led research that the project had been developing in the public realm. The postcards included an instruction written by Open City on one side, and my serialised text on the other. I have since worked more collaboratively with Open City on new research investigating how the different temporalities within the public realm might be harnessed or activated creatively; how movement and mobility affect the way in which place and locality are encountered or understood. My involvement with the project has specifically been in exploring the use of text-based elements, instructions and propositions and has included further publicly-sited postcard texts and the development of sound-based works using iPod technology to create synchronised actions. In 2008, I successfully secured Arts Council of England funding for a practice-based research trip to Japan with Open City in which we initiated our specific investigations around stillness, slowness, obstruction, and blockage. During this phase of research we became interested in how speed and slowness can be utilised within a performance practice to create points of anchor and location within the urban environment, or in order to affect a psychological shift in the way that space is encountered and understood. Image 2: Open City, research investigations, Japan, 2008.On one level, Open City can be located within a tradition of publicly-sited performance practices. This genealogy of politically – and more often playfully – resistant actions, interventions and models of spatial occupation or navigation can be traced back to the ludic practice of Surrealist errance or aimless wandering into and through the Situationists’ deployment of the dérive and conceptualisation of “psychogeography” during the 1950s and 60s. In its focus on collective action and inhabitation of the everyday as a site of practice, Open City is also part of a trajectory of artistic activity – epitomised perhaps by Allan Kaprow’s Happenings – intent on blurring the line between art and life, or in drawing attention to those aspects of reality marginalised by dominant discourses and ideologies. Performed as part of an artistic practice, non-habitual or even habitually discouraged actions such as aimless wandering, standing still, even the (non)event of 'doing nothing' operate as subtle methods through which to protest against increasingly legislated conditions of existence, by proposing alternative modes of behaviour or suggesting flexibility therein. Artistic practice can be seen as a site of investigation for questioning and dismantling the dominant order – or “major” language – through acts of minor rebellion that – whilst predominantly impotent or ineffective – might still remind us that we have some agency and do not always need to wholly and passively acquiesce. Life itself becomes the material for a work of art, and it is through such an encounter that we might be encouraged to conceive other possibilities for life. Through art, life is rendered plastic and capable of being actively shaped or made into something different to how it might habitually be. However the notion of ‘life as a work of art’ is not exclusive to artistic practice. Various theorists and philosophers – including Nietzsche, Foucault, Spinoza, Deleuze and Guattari – have advocated the necessity of viewing life as a kind of project or mode of invention, suggesting ways in which one’s “style of life” or way of existing might be produced or constructed differently. They urge us to consider how we might actively and consciously attend to the full possibilities of life in order to become more human, by increasing our “affective capacity,” that is, our capacity to affect and be affected in affirming or “augmentative terms” (Deleuze, Spinoza and Us 124). In one sense, Spinoza’s Ethics offers a pragmatic model – or guide to living – through which to attempt to increase one’s potential capacity for being, by maximising the possibility of augmentative experiences or joyful encounters. Here, Spinoza formulates a plan or model through which one might attempt to move from the “inadequate” realm of signs and effects – the first order of knowledge in which the body is simply subject to external forces and random encounters of which it remains ignorant – towards a second order of knowledge. Here, the individual body is able to construct concepts of causes or “common notions” with other “bodies in agreement.” The “common notions” of the second order are produced at the point where the individual is able to rise above the condition of simply experiencing effects and signs in order to form agreements or joyful encounters with other bodies. These harmonious synchronicities with other bodies harness life-affirming affects whilst repelling those that threaten to absorb or deplete power. It is only through the construction of “concepts” – an understanding of causality – that it is possible to move from the realm of inadequate ideas towards the production of “adequate ideas from which true actions ensue” (Deleuze, Spinoza and the Three Ethics 143). According to Spinoza’s Ethics, the challenge is to attempt to move from a state in which existence is passively experienced – or suffered blindly – as a series of effects upon the body, towards understanding – and working harmoniously with – the causes themselves. In his reading of Spinoza’s Ethics, Gilles Deleuze suggests that this shift occurs through consciously selecting those affects that offer the possibilities of augmentation (an increase in power through joy) rather than diminution (the decrease of power through sadness). Whilst Spinoza appears to denounce affects as simply inadequate ideas that should be avoided, Deleuze argues that there are certain life-affirming or joyful affects that can be seen as the “dark precursors” of the notions (The Three Ethics 144). According to Deleuze, whilst such “signs of augmentation remain passions and the ideas that they presuppose remain inadequate,” they alone have the capacity to enable the individual to increase in power, for the “selection” of affect is in itself the “condition of leaving the first kind of knowledge, and for attaining the concept” (The Three Ethics 144). For Deleuze-Spinoza, the production of subjectivity is a form of endeavour or “passional struggle,” whereby the individual attempts to increase his or her capacity for turning affects or signs into common notions or concepts (The Three Ethics 145). Deleuze argues that the “common notions are an Art, the art of Ethics itself: organising good encounters, composing actual relations, forming powers, experimenting” (Spinoza and Us 119). This is then a life-long project or practice – the making of life into a work of art – focused on increasing one’s potential to affect and be affected by signs that increase power, whilst simultaneously reducing or minimising one’s threshold of affectivity towards those which diminish or reduce it. I am interested in the role that the artist or artist collective could have in the production of this Spinozist model of subjectivity; how they might function as an intermediary or catalyst, creating conditions or events in which augmentative affects – such as those made possible through a dynamic or active form of stillness – are increased and their energies harnessed. Here perhaps, the affective potential of an art practice is in itself the “dark precursor” of common notions, drawing together bodies in agreement by calling into being an audience or community of experience. On one level, the artist performs an analogous role to Spinoza’s “scholia” – the intermittent sequence of polemical notations “inserted into the demonstrative chain” of propositions – within the Ethics, which according to Deleuze:Operate in the shadows, trying to distinguish between what prevents us from reaching our common notions and what, on the contrary, allows us to do so, what diminishes and what augments our power, the sad signs of our servitude and the joyous signs of our liberations (The Three Ethics 146).Certainly the project, Open City, attempts to draw attention to the habitually endured –or suffered – signs and affects of contemporary experience; striving to remedy the sad affects of capitalism through the production of playful, disruptive or even joyful interventions, events and encounters between bodies in agreement. The disempowering experience or affect of being controlled – blocked, stopped or restricted – by societal or moral codes and civic laws, is replaced by a minor logic of ambiguous, arbitrary and optional rules. Such rules foreground experimentation and request an ethical rather than obedient engagement that in turn serves to liberate the individual from habitual passivity. Open City attempts to reveal – and then resist or refuse – the hidden rules that determine how to operate or perform within contemporary capitalism, the coded orders on how to behave, move and interact. It exposes such insidious legislation as constructs whose logic has been put in place or brought into effect over time, and which in turn might be revoked, dislocated or challenged. For Open City, the performance of stillness can be used as a gesture through which to break from or rupture the orchestrated and controlled flow of capitalist behaviours and its sad affects. Image 3: Open City, documentation of performance, Nottingham, 2008. Random acts of stillness produce moments of friction within the smooth, regulated flows of contemporary capitalism; singularised or inconsistent glitches or jolts that call to attention its unnoticed rhythms and temporal speeds, by becoming its counter-point or by appropriating its “language” for “strange and minor uses” (Deleuze and Guattari 17). Dawdling or meandering reveals the fierceness of the city’s unspoken bylaws, whilst the societal pressure towards speed and efficiency is thwarted by moments of deliberate non-production, inaction and the act of doing nothing. In one example of collective action – at noon on a shopping street – around fifty pedestrians, suddenly and without warning, stop still in their tracks and remain like this for five minutes before resuming their daily activity. In another, a group of individuals draw to a standstill and slowly sway from side to side; their stillness becomes a device for affecting a block or obstacle that limits or modifies others’ behaviour, creating an infinitely imaginable ricochet of further breaks and amendments to routine journeys and directional flows. Open City often mimics or misuses familiar behavioural patterns witnessed in the public realm, inhabiting their language or codes in a way that playfully transforms their use or proposes elasticity or flexibility therein. Habitual or routine actions are isolated and disinvested of their function or purpose, or become repeated until all sense of teleological imperative is wholly evacuated or rendered absurd. For example, a lone person stops still and holds their hand out to check for rain. Over and over, the same action is repeated but by different individuals; the authenticity of the original gesture shattered and separated from any causal motivation by the reverberations of its uncanny echo. Such performed actions remove or distance the response or reaction from its originary stimulus or excitation, creating an affective gap between – a no longer known or present – cause and its effect. This however, is not to return action back to realm of Spinoza’s first order of knowledge – where the body only experiences effects and remains ignorance of their cause – but rather an attempt to create a gap or space of “hesitancy” in which a form of creativity might emerge. Within the act of stillness, habitually imperceptible rhythms and speeds become visible. By being still it is possible to witness or attend to the presence of different or heterogeneous temporal “refrains” or durations operating beneath and within the surface appearance of capitalism’s homogeneous flow.Open City attempts to recuperate the creative potential within those moments of stillness generated through the accelerated technologies of contemporary capitalism: the situational ennui endured whilst waiting or queuing; the moments of collective and synchronised impasse controlled by technologies such as traffic lights and pedestrian crossings, and even – though perhaps more abstractly – the nebulous experience of paralysis and impotency induced by fear, anxiety and uncertainty. Performances attempt to neutralise these various diminutive affects by re-inhabiting or re-framing them; ‘turning’ their stillness towards a form of memorial, protest or social gathering, or alternatively rendering it seemingly empty, unreadable or absurd. This emptiness can also be understood as a form of disinterestedness that refuses to react to immediate stimulus – or lack of – and rather remains open to other possibilities of existence or inhabitation. Stillness is curiously equivocal, an “ambiguous or fluctuating sign” that has the capacity to “affect us with joy and sadness at the same time” (Deleuze The Three Ethics 140). The external appearance of stillness is ultimately blank, its “event” able to affect a “vectorial passage” of contradictory directions, towards an “increase or decrease, growth or decline, joy or sadness” (Deleuze, The Three Ethics 140). Open City attempts to transform the – potentially – diminutive affects of stillness into “augmentative powers” by occupying the stillness of contemporary capitalism as a disguise or camouflage for producing invisible performances that hijack a familiar language in order to misuse its terms. More recently Open City have adapted or occupied the moments of stillness made possible or enabled by everyday technologies: the inconsistent rhythm patterns of stopping, pausing or circling about on the spot exhibited by someone absorbed in a mobile-phone call, text messaging or changing a track on their MP3 player. Here, certain technologies allow, legitimate or even give permission for the disruption of the flow of movement within the city, or are used as a device through which to explore and exploit the potential of collective synchronised action through the use of recorded instructions.Image 4: Open City, public performance from the Dislocate festival (Yokohama, Japan, 2008).The alienating and atomising affects of such personal technologies – which are habitually used and isolate the individual from their immediate surroundings and from others around them – are transformed into tools for producing collective action. In one sense, Open City’s performances operate as a form of “minor art” as outlined by Deleuze and Guattari, where a major language – the dominant order of capitalism and control – is neutralised or deterritorialised before being “appropriated for strange and minor uses” (17). For Deleuze and Guattari a minor practice is always political and collective, signalling the “movement from the individual to a ‘collective multiplicity’” where there is no longer an individual subject as such but “only collective assemblages of enunciation”(18). The minor always operates within the terms of the major but functions as a destabilising agent where it attempts – according to Simon O’Sullivan – to “stammer and stutter the commodity form, disassembling those already existing forms of capital and indeed moving beyond the latter’s very logic” (73). However, as with all acts of deterritorialisation there is always the potential that they will in turn become reterritorialised; assimilated or absorbed back into the language of the “major”. This can be seen, for example, in the way that the proposed radical potential of the flash-mob phenomenon has been swiftly recuperated through the language of the corporate publicity campaigns of high-profile companies – specifically telecommunication multi-nationals - for whom the terms ‘community’ and ‘collectivity’ are developed as Unique Selling Points for further capitalist gain.By contrast, the intent of Open City is to create an event that operates not only as a visible rupture, but which also has the capacity to transform or radicalise the subjectivities of those involved beyond the duration of the event itself. Open City encourage the movement from the individual to a “collective multiplicity,” through performances that produce synchronised action where individuals become temporally united by a rule or instruction that they are collectively adhering to. Publicly distributed postcards have been used to invite or instruct as-yet-unknown publics to participate in collective action, setting the terms for the possibility of imagined or future assemblies. Or more recently, recorded spoken word instructions listened to using MP3 player technology have been used to harmonise the speeds, stillness and slowness of individual bodies to produce the possibility of a new collective rhythm or “refrain” (Guattari, Subjectivities). For example, within the Dislocate festival (Yokohama, Japan, 2008) a group of individuals were led on a guided walk in which they engaged with a series of spoken instructions listened to using MP3 player technology. The instructions invited a number of discreet performances culminating in a collective moment of stillness that was at once a public spectacle and a space of self-contained or private reflection. Image 5: Open City, public performance from the Dislocate festival (Yokohama, Japan, 2008). Once still, the individuals listened to a further spoken text which interrogated how the act of ‘being still’ might shift in meaning moving from or between different positions. For example, stillness can be experienced as a controlling or restrictive mode of enforced waiting, as an act of resistant refusal or protest, or alternatively as a model of quiet contemplation or idle daydreaming. For Spinoza, a body is defined by its speeds and slowness – by the relationship between motion and rest – and by its capacity to affect and be affected. In attempting to synchronise the speeds and affectivity of individuals through group action, Open City create the conditions for the production of Spinoza’s “common notions” – or second kind of knowledge – through the organisation of a collective or shared understanding of causality by bodies in agreement. Acts of collective stillness also function in an analogous manner to the transitional or liminal phase within ritual performance by producing the possibility of “communitas,” the transient experience of togetherness or even of collective subjectivity. In From Ritual to Theatre, The Human Seriousness of Play, anthropologist Victor Turner identifies a form of “existential or spontaneous communitas” – an acute experience of community – experienced by individuals immersed in the "no longer/not yet" liminal space of a given ritualistic process, in which “the past is momentarily negated, suspended or abrogated, and the future has not yet begun, an instant of pure potentiality when everything, as it were, trembles in the balance” (44). Stillness is presented as pure disinterestedness, a non-teleological event enabling nothing but the possibility of a community of experience to come into being.Within Open City then, the gesture of stillness recurs as a device or “event-encounter” for simultaneously producing a break or hiatus in an already existing formulation of experience, at the same time as creating a gap or space of possibility in which to imagine or affirm an alternative mode of being. Referring to the Deleuzian notion of encounter, O’Sullivan reflects on the dual presence of rupture and affirmation within the moment of encounter itself whereby “our typical ways of being in the world are challenged, our systems of knowledge disrupted” (Sullivan,xxiv). He argues that the encounter:Operates as a rupture in our habitual modes of being and thus in our habitual subjectivities. It produces a cut, a crack. However … the rupturing encounter also contains a moment of affirmation, the affirmation of a new world, in fact a way of seeing and thinking this world differently (Sullivan, xxv).Open City attempts to create the conditions for these dual possibilities – of rupture and affirmation – through the production of joyful encounters between bodies within the event of performed stillness. Stillness operates as a double gesture where it creates a stop or block – a break with the already existing or with the events of the past – and also a moment of pause, the liminal space of projection; a future-oriented or preparatory zone of pure potentiality. Stillness thus offers the simultaneous possibility of termination and of a new beginning, within which it becomes possible to move from a paradigm of resistance – to the present conditions of existence – towards one of augmentative refusal or proposal that invites reflection on a still future-possible way of life. Poised at a point of anticipation or as a prophetic mode of waiting, stillness offers the promise of as-yet-undecided possibilities where options for future action or existence remain momentarily open, not yet known. Collective stillness thus always has a quality of “futurity” by creating the transitional conditions of communitas or the possibility of a community emerging outside or beyond the temporal frame of capitalism: a community that is still in waiting. ReferencesBergson, Henri. Matter and Memory. Trans. N. M. Paul and W. S Palmer. New York: Zone Books, 1991.De Certeau, Michel. The Practice of Everyday Life. Trans. Steven Rendall. Berkeley: U of California P, 1984. Deleuze, Gilles, and Félix Guattari.“What Is a Minor Literature.” Kafka toward a Minor Literature. Trans. Dana Polan. Minneapolis: U of Minnesota P, 1986.Deleuze, Gilles. “Spinoza and the Three ‘Ethics’.” Essays Critical and Clinical. Trans D. W. Smith and M. A. Greco. London: Verso, 1998.———. “Life as a Work of Art.” Negotiations: 1972-1990. New York: Columbia U P, 1995.———. “Spinoza and Us.” Spinoza: Practical Philosophy. Trans. R. Hurley. San Francisco: City Lights Books, 1988. Guattari, Felix. “Subjectivities: For Better and for Worse.” The Guattari Reader. Ed. G. Genosko. Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1996.Foucault, Michel. “An Aesthetics of Existence.” Politics, Philosophy, Culture. Ed. L. Kritzman. London: Routledge, 1990.O’Sullivan, Simon. Art Encounters Deleuze and Guattari. London: Palgrave Macmillan, 2006.Spinoza, Benedict. Ethics. Trans. A Boyle. London: Everyman, 1989. Turner, Victor. From Ritual to Theatre: The Human Seriousness of Play. New York: PAJ Publications, 1982.


 
 
 Rather than trying to lead an audience into a suspension of disbelief, cornball artists who get their own joke hope everyone will play along, or anyway enjoy the joke, which suggests that successful corn involves a suspension of embarrassment, or else a revel in it. (Marcus 323)
 
 
 Sure, it was corny as anything, pretentious, and silly beyond reason. But it felt so refreshing to see a band so absolutely devoid of irony and hipster chic, to see them perform and actually have enough sense and gravitas to not take themselves so damned seriously. And I think that, for a lot of people (myself included), that was a breath of fresh air. If there had been even the slightest trace of irony in the Illinoisemakers’ performance, the crowd would have picked up on it, and I doubt Sufjan and Co would have made it out with their pom-poms intact. (Morehead)
 
 
 The club was packed tight but I managed to find a spot to stand for the next two hours, squeezed along the rail of the upstairs balcony, looking down almost directly at the top of Sufjan Stevens’s head and, in front of him, an unusually hushed audience of fresh-faced indie rock kids. In conversation with some of the club’s staff a few days after the show, they would confide in me that they were unnerved by the evening’s crowd: “Where did these people come from?”, just “too well-behaved” for an all-ages show, there was something vaguely eerie about the level of rapt attention, about their/our unembarrassed affection for the on-stage spectacle. After all, with his gender-split six-piece back-up band (why have just one glockenspiel when two could be better?) dressed in matching cheerleader uniforms (offering between-song cheers and “spirit fingers” and a show-closing human pyramid) and himself all decked-out in a silk American flag jumpsuit, which may or may not have also had a cape, it would be tempting to see and hear 30-year-old Sufjan Stevens and his band – known, on this tour, as the Illinoisemakers – as “kitsch” or “camp”, but that’s not quite it. The affective tone is a bit too far off the mark – the archly self-ironic quotation marks – to qualify as camp or kitsch (or, for that matter, it is also far too waxing to fit any thesis about the waning of affect, such as Fredric Jameson’s notion of “blank parody”). Migrating elsewhere, this affect locates its heartfelt kernel, unabashedly, as corn. 
 
 Susan Sontag, in her 1964 essay Notes on “Camp”, helped to set out the critical coordinates for the camp sensibility. Among them, an affection for the affectations of artifice and exaggeration, a rewiring of the logics of taste (bad can be good!) in order to account for an excessiveness and/or a “failed seriousness” that doubles back to slip quotation marks around itself, often undertaking a kind of historical salvage operation whereby the once-banal might now be redeemed as fantastic. As a significant subset of (non-naïve) camp, kitsch pertains to the more intentionally frivolous or ostentatious, and it inheres, most immediately, in the practices/objects produced through the camp sensibility. In sum, camp and kitsch take pleasure and refuge in affectedness, and regularly draw upon a particular relationship to the past: a past not to be conserved as it once was but to be transformed toward different, potentially more liberating ends within the present. 
 
 The sensibility of corn occupies an almost coincidental space in our contemporary moment (where else could it be?) but its initial impulse faces in the other direction: rather than a past, it seeks to redeem a future for the present. Although by no means bypassing the powers of being affected (though without ironically turning this affectedness upon itself), cornball art sets to work by fictively divulging capacities to affect among existing constellations of forces and aesthetic figures, finding hidden-in-plain-sight alliances and branchings, offering a glimpse of a future not quite in view. That is, if camp and especially kitsch are the sound of a world chortling in the mirror at the sight of its own enlightened cynicism, corn gives voice to the near-impossible belief, in the face of all-available evidence to the contrary, that traversing the dreadfully familiar still holds the chance potential for imagining (and perhaps creating) a world that is decidedly otherwise. A work of (“successful”) corn actively dedicates itself to conjuring up an affective topography – opening the way for the possibility of collective inhabitation or contagion – within and around the hollows and shadows of the cliché and the commonplace, extracting from the field of its circulation the tiniest differences and variations.
 
 Although camp and kitsch are “statistically” on the political left (in the same way that Roland Barthes claims that “myth” is statistically on the right), corn has no intrinsic political valence. Making itself at home in the midst of the already known and patently obvious, corn’s stubborn (“silly beyond reason”) act of faith in the conversion of the banal becomes the future-oriented task of the always-to-be-made. The fabulist potential of corn then is that, beginning in the middle of nowhere, it can deliver us somewhere else: even if somewhere else is inevitably right here (no-where turned now-here). Corn’s politics don’t arrive in advance but only through its own act of creative, patchwork assembling. Rather than camp’s self-inoculating wink of solidarity (often delivered from arm’s length), whatever might be the coming politics of corn, it is precisely in its articulations and the expanse of its arms-wide embrace.
 
 Sufjan Stevens is already a fairly complex tangle of articulations all by himself: a plainly quirky musical composer-arranger and multi-instrumentalist (imagine Philip Glass writing “twee lo-fi” scores for a local community theater) / simultaneously straightforward balladeer and goofy-assed cheerleader-bandleader / fabulating geo-philosopher / practicing Christian (Episcopalian) of the non-evangelical variety / undeterred and affectionate chronicler of an increasingly unsettled America. What keeps this tangle of articulations from falling into a mess of contradictions is his earnestly cornball conceit as a musical surveyor – with or without a cape – of the vast American landscape. Stevens’s new Come on Feel the Illinoise and his 2003 release Greetings from Michigan serve merely as the first two states in an ambitious and admittedly foolhardy “50 States” project. Stevens re-conjures these states as immensely intimate geographies of the everyday mundane (folding laundry, wasp stings, zoo visits), of the cosmically mythic (UFOs, God, ghosts), and through figures, events and places, both past and present (Mary Todd Lincoln, the Black Hawk War, Decatur, his stepmother). In and across his musical compositions, there are no conceptual, lyrical or moral hierarchies (no above or below, including God); everything is situated alongside each other. Nothing is subordinated to anything else, and all are linked as one. 
 
 Describing his “poetics of landscape”, Stevens says: 
 
 I think this is a complicated subject, this idea of environment and geography shaping our doctrines, our behavior, our memory, even our inclinations … Now, our life is not a series of compartments. Here is our health. Here is our diet. Here is our genealogy. Here is our religion. Here is our politics. Here is our job. No, these things are all one big thing. Landscape is the palate of all activity. We live and move on the surface of this planet. Of course the character of that geography informs us. Even more, it determines us, and we affect it as well. It’s correlative … (Dodd). 
 
 
 Although everything is already in immanence, it is also always to be articulated. Or, in the case of Sufjan Stevens’s rewrite of the United States’ national anthem, it is still all to be re-articulated: reclaiming God from the religious right while declaiming America’s militarism. The affective-aesthetic resonance of these articulations, through corn’s familiar traversal of the recurring same, serves as a selective ontology that comes to guide what falls out or rises up – the difference in repetition – into resources for hope in the present (Massumi). By nurturing these hopeful fall-outs and rise-ups into their next iterations, and by sustaining them into ever-expanding and self-varying accumulation, corn’s peculiar affective sensibility invokes its ethical task and, thus, its capacity to deliver its audience – though there are no guarantees – from nowhere (especially given the present sorry state of affairs on the US political left). It takes landscape as the palate of its activity, and then “populate[s] it with other instances, with other poetic, novelistic, or even pictorial or musical entities” (Deleuze and Guattari 66-7), populates it with a people to come. 
 
 At present, it is safe to say that Sufjan Stevens is almost precisely nowhere, a mere speck on the popular music landscape of North America – at least as such matters might be determined through sales statistics or mainstream radio airplay. But a growing number of US music critics, journalists, and music bloggers have begun to take notice. See, for example, the critics at Amazon.com in the US or Metacritic.com – a Website that cross-tabulates critical reviews (mostly US and British) of film, television, music, etc – where, in both, Stevens’s Illinoise stands as the number one music release for 2005. All of which might add up, of course, to next to nothing (a temporary crush, this year’s model, a critical darling). Except that, wedged along the balcony rail as I observed the evening’s crowd in resonant conjunction with Stevens and his band, there seemed and still seems every reason to believe or every reason to want to believe that a reconfigured, newly-weird and corn-fed America may be nudging its way onto the horizon as an emergent, fledgling generational sensibility. Or, so, that’s the infectious hope anyway … admittedly as naïve as any before it. 
 
 Think of it as a manifestation of what Deleuze calls the need for belief (and not its suspension) in the world. In this world (this world now: no waiting for a next one) belief that operates, in one way, through “the powers of the false” (fabulation): supplanting the close-to-expired effectivity of “speaking truth to power” anytime too soon. Deleuze and Guattari maintain that, “belief becomes a genuine concept only when it is made into belief in this world and is connected rather than projected” (92). To connect. To fabulate. To pass into the landscape. To create the conditions for a people-who-are-missing. But, more than any other ingredient to be drawn as political necessity from the contemporary moment, it is belief – unembarrassed by its open expression, unfettered by irony’s built-in self-protection mechanism – that sets corn apart from camp and kitsch.
 
 It is belief in this world that sets Sufjan Stevens’s music and its live performance, as corn, into motion: belief as force for belonging. Corn lends itself, almost by its very nature (albeit its fictive nature), to such gathering-up, to collective enunciation. “All things go / All things go / To re-create us / All things grow / All things grow”, Stevens sings in part of the chorus of his Chicago (arguably the centrepiece of Illinoise), his voice supported – both live and on record – by what feels like every other voice in its vicinity. But, in the song, Chicago serves as just a momentary passing through on the way to somewhere else, on the way to New York and beyond that: “Freedom from myself and from the land”. In the sliver of this moment (beyond one state or two, a nation or land dissolving into what develops), the affect of corn reveals its opening on to a boundless expansion of landscape, out past the amber waves of grain, the majesty of purple mountains, and God shedding his grace, pom-poms intact.
 
 References
 
 Deleuze, Gilles, and Felix Guattari. What is Philosophy? Trans. H. Tomlinson, and G. Burchell. New York: Columbia UP, 1994. Dodd, J. “Feature Interview with Sufjan Stevens.” Bandoppler #5. 10 Oct. 2005 http://www.bandoppler.com/5_F_Sufjan.htm>. Marcus, G. Ranters and Crowd Pleasers: Punk in Pop Music, 1977-92. New York: Anchor, 1993. Massumi, Brian. “Navigating Movements.” In M. Zournazi, Hope: New Philosophies for Change. New York: Routledge, 2002. This interview with Massumi is also available online: http://www.21cmagazine.com/issue2/massumi.html>. Morehead, J. “Omaha, Lift Up Your Weary Head.” OpusZine.com 23 Sep. 2005. http://www.opuszine.com/blog/entry.html?ID=1276>. Sontag, Susan. “Notes on ‘Camp’.” Against Interpretation. New York: Farrar, Straus & Giroux, 1966.
 
 
 
 
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In mid-2001, in a cultural policy discussion at Arts Queensland, an Australian state government arts policy and funding apparatus, a senior arts bureaucrat seeking to draw a funding client’s gaze back to the bigger picture of what the state government was trying to achieve through its cultural policy settings excused his own abstracting comments with the phrase, “but then I might just be a policy ‘wank’”. There was some awkward laughter before one of his colleagues asked, “did you mean a policy ‘wonk’”? The incident was a misstatement of a term adopted in the 1990s to characterise the policy workers in the Clinton Whitehouse (Cunningham). This was not its exclusive use, but many saw Clinton as an exemplary wonk: less a pragmatic politician than one entertained by the elaboration of policy. The policy work of Clinton’s kitchen cabinet was, in part, driven by a pervasive rationalist belief in the usefulness of ordered policy processes as a method of producing social and economic outcomes, and, in part, by the seductions of policy-play: its ambivalences, its conundrums, and, in some sense, its aesthetics (Klein 193-94). There, far from being characterised as unproductive “self-abuse” of the body-politic, policy processes were alive as a pragmatic technology, an operationalisation of ideology, as an aestheticised field of play, but more than anything as a central rationalist tenant of government action. This final idea—the possibilities of policy for effecting change, promoting development, meeting government objectives—is at the centre of the bureaucratic imagination. Policy is effective. And a concomitant belief is that ordered or organised policy processes result in the best policy and the best outcomes. Starting with Harold Lasswell, policy theorists extended the general rationalist suppositions of Western representative democracies into executive government by arguing for the value of information/knowledge and the usefulness of ordered process in addressing thus identified policy problems. In the post-war period particularly, a case can be made for the usefulness of policy processes to government—although, in a paradox, these rationalist conceptions of the policy process were strangely irrational, even Utopian, in their view of transformational capacities possibilities of policy. The early policy scientists often moved beyond a view of policy science as a useful tool, to the advocacy of policy science and the policy scientist as panaceas for public ills (Parsons 18-19). The Utopian ambitions of policy science finds one of their extremes in the contemporary interest in whole-of-government approaches to policy making. Whole-of-governmentalism, concern with co-ordination of policy and delivery across all areas of the state, can seen as produced out of Western governments’ paradoxical concern with (on one hand) order, totality, and consistency, and (on the other) deconstructing existing mechanisms of public administration. Whole-of-governmentalism requires a horizontal purview of government goals, programs, outputs, processes, politics, and outcomes, alongside—and perhaps in tension with—the long-standing vertical purview that is fundamental to ministerial responsibility. This often presents a set of public management problems largely internal to government. Policy discussion and decision-making, while affecting community outcomes and stakeholder utility, are, in this circumstance, largely inter-agency in focus. Any eventual policy document may well have bureaucrats rather than citizens as its target readers—or at least as its closest readers. Internally, cohesion of objective, discourse, tool and delivery are pursued as a prime interests of policy making. Failing at Policy So what happens when whole-of-government policy processes, particularly cultural policy processes, break down or fail? Is there anything productive to be retrieved from a failed fantasy of policy cohesion? This paper examines the utility of a failure to cohere and order in cultural policy processes. I argue that the conditions of contemporary cultural policy-making, particularly the tension between the “boutique” scale of cultural policy-making bodies and the revised, near universal, remit of cultural policy, require policy work to be undertaken in an environment and in such a way that failure is almost inevitable. Coherence and cohesions are fundamental principles of whole-of-government policy but cultural policy ambitions are necessarily too comprehensive to be achievable. This is especially so for the small arts or cultural offices government that normally act as lead agencies for cultural policy development within government. Yet, that these failed processes can still give rise to positive outcomes or positive intermediate outputs that can be taken up in a productive way in the ongoing cycle of policy work that categorises contemporary cultural governance. Herein, I detail the development of Building the Future, a cultural policy planning paper (and the name of a policy planning process) undertaken within Arts Queensland in 1999 and 2000. (While this process is now ten years in the past, it is only with a decade past that as a consultant I am in apposition to write about the material.) The abandonment of this process before the production of a public policy program allows something to be said about the utility and role of failure in cultural policy-making. The working draft of Building the Future never became a public document, but the eight months of its development helped produce a series of shifts in the discourse of Queensland Government cultural policy: from “arts” to “creative industries”; and from arts bureaucracy-centred cultural policy to the whole-of-government policy frameworks. These concepts were then taken up and elaborated in the Creative Queensland policy statement published by Arts Queensland in October 2002, particularly the concern with creative industries; whole-of-government cultural policy; and the repositioning of Arts Queensland as a service agency to other potential cultural funding-bodies within government. Despite the failure of the Building the Future process, it had a role in the production of the policy document and policy processes that superseded it. This critique of cultural policy-making rather than cultural policy texts, announcements and settings is offered as part of a project to bring to cultural policy studies material and theoretical accounts of the particularities of making cultural policy. While directions in cultural policy have much to do with the overall directions of government—which might over the past decade be categorised as focus on de-regulation, out-sourcing of services—there are developments in cultural policy settings and in cultural policy processes that are particular to cultural policy and cultural policy-making. Central to the development of cultural policy studies and to cultural policy is a transformational broadening of the operant definition of culture within government (O'Regan). Following Raymond Williams, the domain of culture is broadened to include the high culture, popular culture, folk culture and the culture of everyday life. Accordingly, in some sense, every issue of governance is deemed to have a cultural dimension—be it policy questions around urban space, tourism, community building and so on. Contemporary governments are required to act with a concern for cultural questions both within and across a number of long-persisting and otherwise discrete policy silos. This has implications for cultural policy makers and for program delivery. The definition of culture as “everyday life”, while truistically defendable, becomes unwieldy as an imprimatur or a container for administrative activity. Transforming cultural policy into a domain incorporating most social policy and significant elements of economic policy makes the domain titanically large. Potentially, it compromises usual government efforts to order policy activity through the division or apportionment of responsibility (Glover and Cunningham 19). The problem has given rise to a new mode of policy-making which attends to the co-ordination of policy across and between levels of government, known as whole-of government policy-making (see O’Regan). Within the domain of cultural policy the task of whole-of-government cultural policy is complicated by the position of, and the limits upon, arts and cultural bureaux within state and federal governments. Dedicated cultural planning bureaux often operate as “boutique” agencies. They are usually discrete line agencies or line departments within government—only rarely are they part of the core policy function of departments of a Premier or a Prime Minister. Instead, like most line agencies, they lack the leverage within the bureaucracy or policy apparatus to deliver whole-of-government cultural policy change. In some sense, failure is the inevitable outcome of all policy processes, particularly when held up against the mechanistic representation of policy processes in policy typical of policy handbooks (see Bridgman and Davis 42). Against such models, which describe policy a series of discrete linear steps, all policy efforts fail. The rationalist assumptions of early policy models—and the rigid templates for policy process that arise from their assumptions—in retrospect condemn every policy process to failure or at least profound shortcoming. This is particularly so with whole-of-government cultural policy making To re-think this, it can be argued that the error then is not really in the failure of the process, which is invariably brought about by the difficulty for coherent policy process to survive exogenous complexity, but instead the error rests with the simplicity of policy models and assumptions about the possibility of cohesion. In some sense, mechanistic policy processes make failure endogenous. The contemporary experience of making policy has tended to erode any fantasies of order, clear process, or, even, clear-sightedness within government. Achieving a coherence to the policy message is nigh on impossible—likewise cohesion of the policy framework is unlikely. Yet, importantly, failed policy is not without value. The churn of policy work—the exercise of attempting cohrent policy-making—constitutes, in some sense, the deliberative function of government, and potentially operates as a force (and site) of change. Policy briefings, reports, and draft policies—the constitution of ideas in the policy process and the mechanism for their dissemination within the body of government and perhaps to other stakeholders—are discursive acts in the process of extending the discourse of government and forming its later actions. For arts and cultural policy agencies in particular, who act without the leverage or resources of central agencies, the expansive ambitions of whole-of-government cultural policy makes failure inevitable. In such a circumstance, retrieving some benefits at the margins of policy processes, through the churn of policy work towards cohesion, is an important consolation. Case study: Cultural Policy 2000 The policy process I wish to examine is now complete. It ran over the period 1999–2002, although I wish to concentrate on my involvement in the process in early 2000 during which, as a consultant to Arts Queensland, I generated a draft policy document, Building the Future: A policy framework for the next five years (working draft). The imperative to develop a new state cultural policy followed the election of the first Beattie Labor government in July 1998. By 1999, senior Arts Queensland staff began to argue (within government at least) for the development of a new state cultural policy. The bureaucrats perceived policy development as one way of establishing “traction” in the process of bidding for new funds for the portfolio. Arts Minister Matt Foley was initially reluctant to “green-light” the policy process, but eventually in early 1999 he acceded to it on the advice of Arts Queensland, the industry, his own policy advisors and the Department of Premier. As stated above, this case study is offered now because the passing of time makes the analysis of relatively sensitive material possible. From the outset, an abbreviated timeframe for consultation and drafting seem to guarantee a difficult birth for the policy document. This was compounded by a failure to clarity the aims and process of the project. In presenting the draft policy to the advisory group, it became clear that there was no agreed strategic purpose to the document: Was it to be an advertisement, a framework for policy ideas, an audit, or a report on achievements? Tied to this, were questions about the audience for the policy statement. Was it aimed at the public, the arts industry, bureaucrats inside Arts Queensland, or, in keeping with the whole-of-government inflection to the document and its putative use in bidding for funds inside government, bureaucrats outside of Arts Queensland? My own conception of the document was as a cultural policy framework for the whole-of-government for the coming five years. It would concentrate on cultural policy in three realms: Arts Queensland; the arts instrumentalities; and other departments (particularly the cultural initiatives undertaken by the Department of Premier and the Department of State Development). In order to do this I articulated (for myself) a series of goals for the document. It needed to provide the philosophical underpinnings for a new arts and cultural policy, discuss the cultural significance of “community” in the context of the arts, outline expansion plans for the arts infrastructure throughout Queensland, advance ideas for increased employment in the arts and cultural industries, explore the development of new audiences and markets, address contemporary issues of technology, globalisation and culture commodification, promote a whole-of-government approach to the arts and cultural industries, address social justice and equity concerns associated with cultural diversity, and present examples of current and new arts and cultural practices. Five key strategies were identified: i) building strong communities and supporting diversity; ii) building the creative industries and the cultural economy; iii) developing audiences and telling Queensland’s stories; iv) delivering to the world; and v) a new role for government. While the second aim of building the creative industries and the cultural economy was an addition to the existing Australian arts policy discourse, it is the articulation of a new role for government that is most radical here. The document went to the length of explicitly suggesting a series of actions to enable Arts Queensland to re-position itself inside government: develop an ongoing policy cycle; position Arts Queensland as a lead agency for cultural policy development; establish a mechanism for joint policy planning across the arts portfolio; adopt a whole-of-government approach to policy-making and program delivery; use arts and cultural strategies to deliver on social and economic policy agendas; centralise some cultural policy functions and project; maintain and develop mechanisms and peer assessment; establish long-term strategic relationships with the Commonwealth and local government; investigate new vehicles for arts and cultural investment; investigate partnerships between industry, community and government; and develop appropriate performance measures for the cultural industries. In short, the scope of the document was titanically large, and prohibitively expansive as a basis for policy change. A chief limitation of these aims is that they seem to place the cohesion and coherence of the policy discourse at the centre of the project—when it might have better privileged a concern with policy outputs and industry/community outcomes. The subsequent dismal fortunes of the document are instructive. The policy document went through several drafts over the first half of 2000. By August 2000, I had removed myself from the process and handed the drafting back to Arts Queensland which then produced shorter version less discursive than my initial draft. However, by November 2000, it is reasonable to say that the policy document was abandoned. Significantly, after May 2000 the working drafts began to be used as internal discussion documents with government. Thus, despite the abandonment of the policy process, largely due to the unworkable breadth of its ambition, the document had a continued policy utility. The subsequent discussions helped organise future policy statements and structural adjustments by government. After the re-election of the Beattie government in January 2001, a more substantial policy process was commenced with the earlier policy documents as a starting point. By early 2002 the document was in substantial draft. The eventual policy, Creative Queensland, was released in October 2002. Significantly, this document sought to advance two ideas that I believe the earlier process did much to mobilise: a whole-of-government approach to culture; and a broader operant definition of culture. It is important not to see these as ideas merely existing “textually” in the earlier policy draft of Building the Future, but instead to see them as ideas that had begun adhere themselves to the cultural policy mechanism of government, and begun to be deployed in internal policy discussions and in program design, before finding an eventual home in a published policy text. Analysis The productive effects of the aborted policy process in which I participated are difficult to quantify. They are difficult, in fact, to separate out from governments’ ongoing processes of producing and circulating policy ideas. What is clear is that the effects of Building the Future were not entirely negated by it never becoming public. Instead, despite only circulating to a readership of bureaucrats it represented the ideas of part of the bureaucracy at a point in time. In this instance, a “failed” policy process, and its intermediate outcomes, the draft policy, through the churn of policy work, assisted government towards an eventual policy statement and a new form of governmental organisation. This suggests that processes of cultural policy discussion, or policy churn, can be as productive as the public “enunciation” of formal policy in helping to organise ideas within government and determine programs and the allocation of resources. This is even so where the Utopian idealism of the policy process is abandoned for something more graspable or politic. For the small arts or cultural policy bureau this is an important incremental benefit. Two final implications should be noted. The first is for models of policy process. Bridgman and Davis’s model of the Australian policy cycle, despite its mechanistic qualities, is ambiguous about where the policy process begins and ends. In one instance they represent it as linear but strictly circular, always coming back to its own starting point (27). Elsewhere, however, they represent it as linear, but not necessarily circular, passing through eight stages with a defined beginning and end: identification of issues; policy analysis; choosing policy instruments; consultation; co-ordination; decision; implementation; and evaluation (28–29). What is clear from the 1999-2002 policy process—if we take the full period between when Arts Queensland began to organise the development of a new arts policy and its publication as Creative Queensland in October 2002—is that the policy process was not a linear one progressing in an orderly fashion towards policy outcomes. Instead, Building the Future, is a snapshot in time (namely early to mid-2000) of a fragmenting policy process; it reveals policy-making as involving a concurrency of policy activity rather than a progression through linear steps. Following Mark Considine’s conception of policy work as the state’s effort at “system-wide information exchange and policy transfer” (271), the document is concerned less in the ordering of resources than the organisation of policy discourse. The churn of policy is the mobilisation of information, or for Considine: policy-making, when considered as an innovation system among linked or interdependent actors, becomes a learning and regulating web based upon continuous exchanges of information and skill. Learning occurs through regulated exchange, rather than through heroic insight or special legislative feats of the kind regularly described in newspapers. (269) The acceptance of this underpins a turn in contemporary accounts of policy (Considine 252-72) where policy processes become contingent and incomplete Policy. The ordering of policy is something to be attempted rather than achieved. Policy becomes pragmatic and ad hoc. It is only coherent in as much as a policy statement represents a bringing together of elements of an agency or government’s objectives and program. The order, in some sense, arrives through the act of collection, narrativisation and representation. The second implication is more directly for cultural policy makers facing the prospect of whole-of-government cultural policy making. While it is reasonable for government to wish to make coherent totalising statements about its cultural interests, such ambitions bring the near certainty of failure for the small agency. Yet these failures of coherence and cohesion should be viewed as delivering incremental benefits through the effort and process of this policy “churn”. As was the case with the Building the Future policy process, while aborted it was not a totally wasted effort. Instead, Building the Future mobilised a set of ideas within Arts Queensland and within government. For the small arts or cultural bureaux approaching the enormous task of whole-of government cultural policy making such marginal benefits are important. References Arts Queensland. Creative Queensland: The Queensland Government Cultural Policy 2002. Brisbane: Arts Queensland, 2002. Bridgman, Peter, and Glyn Davis. Australian Policy Handbook. St Leonards: Allen & Unwin, 1998. Considine, Mark. Public Policy: A Critical Approach. South Melbourne: Palgrave Macmillan, 1996. Cunningham, Stuart. "Willing Wonkers at the Policy Factory." Media Information Australia 73 (1994): 4-7. Glover, Stuart, and Stuart Cunningham. "The New Brisbane." Artlink 23.2 (2003): 16-23. Glover, Stuart, and Gillian Gardiner. Building the Future: A Policy Framework for the Next Five Years (Working Draft). Brisbane: Arts Queensland, 2000. Klein, Joe. "Eight Years." New Yorker 16 & 23 Oct. 2000: 188-217. O'Regan, Tom. "Cultural Policy: Rejuvenate or Wither". 2001. rtf.file. (26 July): AKCCMP. 9 Aug. 2001. ‹http://www.gu.edu.au/centre/cmp>. Parsons, Wayne. Public Policy: An Introduction to the Theory and Practice of Policy Analysis. Aldershot: Edward Edgar, 1995.Williams, Raymond. Key Words: A Vocabulary of Culture and Society. London: Fontana, 1976.

Drift: An IntroductionEntering into Drift is akin to entering—or becoming ensnared by—a hum. Projected across one wall, the work uses abstract visual forms to draw visitors into its meditational folds. Quadraphonic sound circulates in smooth, heavy pulses, like the steady rumble of a train running over deep-set tracks. A succession of vibrating lines occupy the screen, much like the horizontal static of a poorly-tuned television. Gradually, the ambient timbre darkens, the hum becomes more persistent and atmospheric undulations more frequent, until room and body expand with intensity. Throbbing vibrations connect ground to feet, roll along skin, finding their way into deep interiors until organs and sinew become subsumed by Drift’s thick, heart-gripping drone. The installation’s tight, affective grasp only becomes apparent upon the sudden release of this tension; the room lightens and hum eases as the screen whitens with faint patterns, like a window opening from a darkened room. Drift, by German artist Ulf Langheinrich, appeared in White Noise, an exhibition dedicated to abstract moving image art at the Australian Centre for the Moving Image in Melbourne (ACMI). At the time of this exhibition in 2005, I was undertaking a seven month study of ACMI’s Screen Gallery, also documenting the preceding exhibition, World without End. My research used the Gallery as a site to examine the shifting relationship between visitor experience, digital art and museums, as the space compelled unusual modalities of visitor interaction. Most notable were states of complete stillness. I aimed to investigate how art and technology might mediate visitor agency through such experiences; not only to understand how museum visitation is transforming in new and significant ways, but to also extrapolate a substantial account of an individual’s agency within this era of what Beck, Giddens and Lash have termed ‘reflexive modernisation’. However, existing studies of museum visitation are rarely informed by the subjective modalities of visitor encounter, but rather, detail how experiences are shaped by institutional practices (Bourdieu; Luhmann; Silverman; Falk; Falk and Dierking) or governmental agendas (Bennett; Hooper-Greenhill). A notable exception is Megan Hick’s phenomenological study of Sydney’s Powerhouse museum. Following this example, I developed a phenomenology of museum visitation that could privilege the visitor’s enunciation of experience, whilst also exploring how expressions of agency may be highly subjective, multifarious and nuanced. I used qualitative ethnographic techniques to gather phenomenological material. Firstly, I attended the Gallery on a fortnightly basis to conduct longitudinal participant observations. However, as observation offered no means to interpret quiet faces and still bodies I also undertook visitor interviews. I approached visitors immediately after their visitation, and attempted to capture a wide cross-sample of responses by recruiting on the basis of age, gender and reason for visitation. I undertook ten 45 minute interviews, enquiring into the factors influencing impressions of the Gallery, prior familiarity with museums, and opinions about media art and technology. This ethnographic material was central to my study, as the voices of visitors guided its thematic direction and ensuing analysis. As the first in-depth, qualitative analysis of visitation to the Screen Gallery, my study therefore makes an empirical contribution to existing visitor research by offering an original means of exploring issues of museum visitation and agency, and movement and stillness.For example, visitors often received Drift with complete stillness, lulled into a focused state of attention by the shiftings of light and sound. As interviewee Colleen reveals, this concentration arose because Drift resonated intimately, akin to a meditative encounter:There wasn’t any other emotion or feeling behind it other than feeling relieved and comfortable, and relaxed. It was almost meditative … I was actually trying not to think about anything! … I didn’t want it to be influenced by the morning’s happenings … I just thought ‘this is relaxing’.Colleen has described how stillness and movement are therefore modalities within a broad vocabulary of interaction. While theorists have long noted how the transition from painting to film marked a shift from still to more ‘active’ forms of contemplation (Benjamin), an unanticipated finding of my study reasserted stillness as a dominant modality of active reception. In this article I therefore ask how agency finds expression within states of stillness.I propose that stillness mediates a distinctive form of agency as it is laden with what Brian Massumi calls ‘potential movement.’ I explore this concept with reference to visitors’ experiences of History of a Day, a work in World Without End. I then draw upon Henri Lefebvre’s description of ‘eurrhythmic’ congruence to describe how stillness is characterised by a focused state of attention, reflecting a highly subjective form of agency. I conclude by describing how this spatial awareness enables individuals to realise their own creativity, and inspire new praxes for daily living.1. Stillness: A State of Potential MovementBy dedicating its exhibition space to time-based art, ACMI’s Screen Gallery has cultivated a new temporal paradigm for visitor participation. It mediates both stillness and movement. Visitors described how the task of negotiating multiple time-based screens in a singular space loosened the temporal boundaries of engagement. Visitors were frequently compelled to pause and wait, as there was an absence of ‘entry’ or ‘exit’ points for viewing a piece. This raises questions as to how slower, or ‘still’, forms of participation in the Gallery may elicit agency. If considering stillness as a state that exists as an inverse of movement, rather than a state lacking in movement, it becomes possible to locate agency within the process of maintaining stillness, and as a result, engender what Brian Massumi describes as ‘potential movement’.In his account of architect Lars Spuybroek’s wetGRID design, Massumi describes how Spuybroek compares the experience of viewing images with the spatial experience of moving through buildings. Spuybroek drew from the premise that while movement can be understood as “the actual content of architecture” (322), it is more difficult to draw correlations between the properties of movement and perception of still images. He developed the idea of potential movement to breach a commonality between the two, as paraphrased by Massumi: “potentials for movement are extracted from actual movement, then fed back into it via architecture. We normally think of abstraction as a distancing from the actual, but here potentials are being ‘abstracted into it’” (323). Spuybroek therefore inscribed the idea of ‘tendency’ in his work, an ‘affordance’ that manifests as “a possibility of convergence that unconsciously exerts a pull, drawing the body forward into a movement the body already feels itself performing before it actually stirs” (Gibson in Massumi 324). This idea suggests that the act of sitting and viewing an image, can be reconceived as a state laden with potential movement. As Massumi describes, “sitting still is the performance of a tendency towards movement … It is the pre-performance, in potential, of the movement and its function … It is in intensity” (324).Sitting can therefore be regarded an 'active' state, where 'tendency'—indeed intensity—charges stillness with a potential for movement, actualisation and change. Conventions that invite still forms of participation in an interactive museum are an opportunity to express one’s agency, as one cannot feel the full momentum of tendency if not having at first remained still. At one level, the process of waiting for a work to begin or end generates a potential for movement, as visitors must decide when they will move towards another work. However, the potential for agency is also articulated within a less performative, ‘internal’ shift that arises within stillness, when visitors eschew reflexive forms of interaction to maintain a focused state of attention.2. Focusing Attention in StillnessVisitors’ interaction with Simon Carrol and Martin Friedel's History of a Day (2004) demonstrated how such a focused attention arises. This work comprises five screens arranged in a pentagonal shape. Visitors engage with this work whilst moving or still, seating themselves on an ottoman set within the pentagon or viewing the work while walking around its outside perimeter. The work came to mediate a number of different types of still and playful encounters, as described by Sean:I was aware that there was other stuff going on around the gallery … could see that out the corner of your eye because there’s spaces in-between screens, but at the same time I wasn’t hurried … And Luke who was with me, he sat down and watched one particular screen, whereas I sort of moved around. When I got to the edge I could see two or three screens at once, so I was just trying to work out what the story was. On one hand, the ‘gaps’ between these screens could fragment visitors’ attention and mediate reflexive forms of perception. Sean described how he “moved around”, as he was drawn to these ‘gaps’ as he exchanged peripheries and centres of focus. However, the close arrangement of the five screens also created a veiled, intimate space that confined visitors’ attention within the spatial parameters of the work. Unlike Sean, Luke remained seated. His experience was conditioned by stillness. He sat observing a single screen and maintained a focused state of attention. By focusing their attention in this way, visitors become more receptive towards the affective experience of viewing art. For example, History of a Day flutters with time-lapse images, a soothing rhythm of night turning to day and to night again. On one hand, each screen has been allocated its own narrative, a temporal illustration of a day’s passing within natural and human-made landscapes. A fairground, for example, was shot at night and showed crowds arriving, swarming, alighting rides and departing. However, it is possible to yield to the projection’s visual and aural rhythm, and in doing so abstract the figurative signifier of each scene. Narrative logic recedes as the senses become flooded, and in turn slows the pace of reflexive perception. Without the imposition of a linear narrative the work’s images begin to unfold with a new slowness. The main ride comes to resemble the slowly beating wings of a moth in lamplight, arms lifting, rotating and dropping in the fairground floodlights. People, rides and the dark sky blend into a meditation on colour, rhythm and sound, a palette comprising the many moments that emerge and pass at a night carnival.This form of perception elicits an agency of complex, affective awareness. Sound artist Brian Eno’s account of the role of silence in ambient music provides a close analogy as to how experiences of stillness in the Screen Gallery become dynamic with enhanced affective awareness. He describes how silences—a ‘stillness’ in sound—actually draw attention to the aural experience that preceded it, as the “‘rests’ are invariably filled in by ‘echoes’ of previously heard fragments” (in Tamm 134). In other words, the experience of listening is heightened by silences, for they create a space of reflection that resonates with the impressions of sound passed. The Gallery is an ambient chamber that echoes with affective forms of experiential encounter rather than echoes of sound. The echoes of visitors’ encounters are also intensified by stillness. Stillness focuses attention, so visitors garner an affective awareness of their spatial environment. This awareness constitutes a distinctive form of agency within the museum, for it enables visitors to locate what Henri Lefebvre describes as a ‘rhythmic’ congruence between their subjective experience and conditions of external environment.3. Awareness of Rhythmic CongruenceIn his theory of rhythmnanalysis, Henri Lefebvre (16) describes how an awareness of ‘rhythmic’ congruity and incongruity can be used to inform a politics in daily life. He argues that practices of self-observation and spatial awareness can reveal how our internal and environmental rhythms are a part of a rhythmic landscape, and can be used as a political means for change. Lefebvre (20) delineates between ‘eurhythmia’ and ‘arrhythmia’ as the forms of rhythmic logic that describe states of congruity:What is certain is that harmony sometimes (often) exists: eurhythmia. The eu-rhythmic body, composed of diverse rhythms – each organ, each function, having its own – keeps them in a metastable equilibrium, which is always understood and often recovered, with the exception of disturbances (arrhythmia) that sooner of later becomes illness (the pathological state). But the surroundings of bodies, be they in nature or a social setting, are also bundles, bouquets, garlands of rhythms, to which it is necessary to listen in order to grasp the natural or produced ensembles. While Lefebvre uses these definitions to develop a Marxist critique of modernity, they also show how within the flexible temporal boundaries of stillness, visitors can express a form of agency by using their heightened affective awareness to locate eurhythmic and arrhythmic experiences. By becoming aware of the way we are conditioned by rhythms, we can begin to imprint new rhythms upon the patterns that govern cultural and social practices. Within the Screen Gallery, this rhythmic observation manifests as an attentiveness towards the temporal relationship between internal sensation and external environment.Congruence between internal and external rhythms was often described by visitors as a feeling of relaxation, even meditation. For example, Sean drew comparisons between still encounters with time-based art and his impression of quiet environments: “It’s like having background music while you’re falling asleep, or you turn the radio on so you haven’t caught the start of a song but you catch the end of it”. These associations imply a close environmental relationship between sound and body, where the rich aesthetic presence of art overrides the expectation of narrative continuity. Perhaps most telling is Sean’s analogy of falling asleep to background music, as it suggests that time-based art can maintain an ambient presence while not intruding upon natural bodily ‘rhythms’. It seems that a harmony between body and art environment allows a pull towards a state of relaxation akin to the drift of sleep, which, notably, is a point where both internal and external rhythms synchronise. Falling asleep is a crossing of thresholds into a space dominated by the activities of the unconscious. Occupying the Gallery and surrendering to a state of relaxation can therefore also be understood as crossing a threshold into a deeper, more internal realm of interaction with art.Affective awareness therefore enables visitors to cultivate a greater sensitivity towards their sensory responses. This is a highly-subjective agency, as it arises when visitors develop a keen awareness of the eurrhythmic alignment between the rhythm of external space, and their own, internal rhythm. Stillness therefore draws attention to the complexity of our own subjective experience, and the different ways we are conditioned by our environments. Yet most importantly, these experiences also generated self-reflection and a desire to creatively transform their circumstances. Matthew described how his encounter with art aroused creative inspiration: “I go there to experience something new. I would love to be able to do something like that… Maybe it’s something for me, where I wish I was doing something else in terms of my occupation.” Paul noted how expressive potential could be expanded by considering oneself an artist: “you can do it yourself as well, and I suppose that’s what draws people in to the whole thing”. Katrina suggested that aesthetic forms of interaction can challenge the conventional ways of thinking about and responding to our environment: “if it gets somebody to do something different, or, gets someone to do something in a different way maybe, expand their minds in that way, maybe that’s a use for it as well … give them something to think about, and they can see it again in a different light”. These comments show how stillness can enable a realisation of one’s own subjective, creative potential by countering the reflexive speed of the everyday.ConclusionMy study of ACMI’s Screen Gallery has shown how agency finds expression in stillness. The temporal elasticity created by artwork and institution allows visitors to appropriate time and space in a way that slows the pace of movement and focuses attention, in turn enhancing a visitor’s awareness of their presence and spatial environment. Stillness therefore heightens visitors’ awareness of sensation, sentience, the body’s occupation of time and space. This form of encounter elicits a feeling of congruence and awakens the spirit. This transformation was the mainstay of the political project set by Lefebvre, a statement on mobilising individuals to affect change by becoming more attentive towards incongruities between self and environment. In the Gallery it became possible, through immersion in an aesthetic, ambient space, for visitors to cultivate an intuition towards their own rhythms and those of surrounding environments. An important claim is to be staked on creating spaces for stillness in daily life, as opportunities for stillness are becoming increasingly scarce within the dynamics of spatial and temporal compression that characterise this era of globalisation and informationalisation. As Heidi describes, these moments given to daydreaming and reflection can become powerful conduits for realising one’s own potential:[It] gives you a new lease on life. And all the dreams you have – it’s possible … Sometimes you think ‘it’s all a bit out of reach, it’s too difficult,’ whereas you go and see something like that, and … it makes everything clear. And makes everything possible.ReferencesBeck, Ulrich, Anthony Giddens, and Scott Lash. Reflexive Modernization: Politics, Tradition and Aesthetics in the Modern Social Order. Cambridge, UK: Polity Press, 1994.Benjamin, Walter. “The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction.” Illuminations. Ed. Hannah Arendt. Great Britain: Fontana/Collins, 1977. 219-253.Bennett, Tony. “Museums and 'the People'.” The Museum Time-Machine: Putting Cultures on Display. London: Routledge, 1988. 63-85.———. “Putting Policy into Cultural Studies.” Cultural Studies. London: Routledge. 1992, 23-37.———. The Birth of the Museum: History, Theory, Politics. London: Routledge, 1995.———. “Consuming Culture, Measuring Access and Audience Development”. Culture and Policy 8.1 (1997): 89-113.———. “Culture and Policy” Culture:a Reformer's Science, St. Leonard's, NSW: Allen & Unwin, 1998. 189-213.———. “Culture and Governmentality.” In J.Z. Bratich, J. Packer & C. McCarthy, eds. Foucault, Cultural Studies and Governmentality. Albany: State U of New York P, 2003. 47-64.Bourdieu, Pierre. “The Economy of Practices.” Distinction: A Social Critique of the Judgement of Taste. Trans. Richard Nice. Cambridge: Harvard U P, 1984. 97-256.———. The Love of Art, Stanford: Stanford U P, 1991.Falk, John. “Museum Recollections.” Visitor Studies - 1988: Theory, Research and Practice. Jacksonville: Center for Social Design, 1988. 60-65.Falk, John, and Lynn Dierking. The Museum Experience. Washington, D.C.: Whalebooks, 1992.Hicks, Megan. "'A Whole New World': The Young Person's Experience of Visiting the Sydney Technological Museum." Museum and Society 3.2 (2005): 66-80. Hooper-Greenhill, Eilean. Museum and Gallery Education. London: Leicester U P, 1991.Lefebvre, Henri. “The Critique of the Thing.” Rhythmnanalysis: Space Time and Everyday Life. London: Continuum, 2004. 5-18.———. “The Rhythmanalyst: A Previsionary Project.” Rhythmanalysis: Space Time and Everyday Life. London: Continuum, 2004. 19-26.Luhmann, Niklas. Art as a Social System, Trans. Eva Knodt. Stanford: U of Stanford P, 2000.Massumi, Brian. “Building Experience: The Architecture of Perception.” NOX: Machining Architecture. London: Thames and Hudson, 2004. 322-331.Silverman, Lois. “Visitor Meaning Making in Museums for a New Age.” Curator 38 (1995): 161-170.Tamm, Eric. “The Ambient Sound.” Brian Eno: His Music and the Vertical Color of Sound. Boston: Faber and Faber, 1989. 131-150.

I. The early twentieth century may seem, at first glance, a strange place to begin a survey of attitudes towards deafness. At this point, the American Deaf community was just forming, American Sign Language was not yet recognised as a language, and most Americans who did consider deafness thought of it as a disability, an affliction to be pitied. As I will demonstrate, however, modernist writers actually had a great deal of insight into issues central to the experience of many deaf people: physical and visual language. While these writers were not thinking of such language in relation to deafness, their experimentations into the merging of the body and language can offer us fresh perspectives on the potential of manual languages to impact mainstream society today. In the early decades of the twentieth century deafness was becoming visible in new ways, due in large part to the rapid expansion of schools for the deaf. This increased visibility led to increased representation in popular culture. Unfortunately, as Trent Batson and Eugene Bergman point out, these literal portrayals of deafness were predictable and clichéd. According to them, deaf characters in literature functioned almost exclusively “to heighten interest, to represent the plight of the individual in a technocratic society, or simply to express a sense of the absurd” (140). In all of these cases, such characters were presented as pitiable. In the least derogatory accounts, like Isabel Adams’ 1928 Heart of the Woods, characters stoically overcome their “disability,” usually by displaying miraculous proficiency with lip-reading and the ability to assimilate into hearing society. Other texts portray deaf people as grotesques, as in Mary Roberts Rinehart’s 1919 “God’s fool,” or as the butts of jokes, as in Anatole France’s 1926 The Man Who Married a Dumb Wife, a Comedy in Two Acts. Constructed as pathetic and disgusting, deaf characters were used thematically to invoke a sense of revulsion at the unknowable other, at those perceived as languageless and therefore cut off from full access to humanity. Literature was not the only medium in which representations of deaf people were appearing with greater frequency. Early filmmakers also demonstrated a fascination with the idea of deafness. But as John S. Schuchman points out in Hollywood Speaks, as in literature, these portrayals were nearly always one-dimensional. Depicted as mutes, fakers, comically clueless, and deeply unhappy individuals, with few exceptions these characters created a very negative image of deafness. In Siege (1925), for example, a deaf character is driven to suicide by cruel mockery. In The Silent Voice (1915), another deaf character contemplates suicide. In the 1932 version of The Man Who Played God, a deaf character falls into a deep depression, sends away his fiancé, and declares “I am not a man. I am just an empty shell…I am only an animal now” (qtd. in Schuchman 48). Without the solidarity of Deaf culture, community, or pride, these characters become morbidly depressed and alienated; they experience their hearing loss as a subject of shame, and it was this image of deafness that was presented to the public. Despite these unpromising literal references to deafness, however, the early twentieth century does in fact offer intriguing and productive ideas about how we might understand deafness today. In the years separating the beginning of the last century from this one, public perceptions of deafness have undergone a significant shift. Buoyed by developments in American Sign Language research and the political activism of the Deaf President Now movement (1988), Deaf people are increasingly viewed as a linguistic minority with a distinct and valuable cultural identity and history, whose communicative differences have much to teach us about how we all interact with language. Deafness (the capital D signaling the distinction between Deafness as a culture and deafness as an audiological condition) is now understood in many circles as a linguistic difference, rather than as a deficiency. And hearing modernist writers had very interesting things to say about the value of linguistic and communicative difference. Modernists’ interest in communication emerged in large part because the same cultural movement toward linguistic homogenisation that led to the denigration of sign language and the exclusive focus on speech and lip-reading in American deaf education also sought to draw a line around the kinds of language considered acceptable for usage in writing. Many of modernism’s formal innovations developed as responses to the push for conformity that we see evidenced in the thinking behind the Oxford English Dictionary, which was completed between the 1880s and the 1920s—notably the period during which most modernist writers were born and began publishing. The 1858 proposal for the dictionary was, in fact, one of the first instances in which the term “standard language” was used (North 12). A desire to establish “standard language” usage was also the goal of the American Academy of Arts, established in 1916 and dedicated to maintaining the integrity of English. Such projects strove to consolidate American national identity around the standardised use of the English language, thereby eliminating spaces for linguistic and communicative diversity within the national body politic. Within literary circles, many rebelled against both the political and aesthetic underpinnings of this movement by experimenting in increasingly dramatic ways with how written language could represent the fragmentation many associated with modern life. As part of their experimentation, some of these writers attempted to develop the idea of embodied language. While they were ignorant of the actual manual languages used by the deaf, the ways they were thinking outside the box in relation to communication can give us both a new perspective on manual languages and new insights into their relevance to mainstream society today. II. One writer whose poems engaged such themes was the poet Hart Crane. Though he worked during the period we think of as high modernist, publishing major volumes of verse in 1926 and 1930, his work challenges our definitions of modernist poetry. Unlike the sparse language and cynicism of his contemporaries, Crane’s poems were decadent and lush. As Eliza New has noted, “Hart Crane is the American poet of Awe” (184); his work reflected his belief in the power of the written word to change the world. Crane viewed poets as inheritors of an ecstatic tradition of prophesy, to which he hoped his own poems would contribute. It is because of this overflowing of sentiment that Crane frequently found both himself and his work mocked. He was accused of overreaching and falling short of his goals, of being nothing more than what Edward Brunner termed a “splendid failure” in the title of his 1985 book. Critics and ordinary readers alike were frustrated with Crane’s arcane language and convoluted syntax, as well as the fact that each word, each image, in his poems was packed with multiple meanings that made the works impossible to summarise. Far from constituting a failure, however, this tangled web of language was Crane’s way of experimenting with a new form of communication, one that would allow him to access the transformative power of poetry. What makes Crane instructive for our purposes is that he repeatedly linked this new conception of language with embodiment. Driven in part by his sense of feeling, as a gay man, a cultural outsider, he attempted to find at the intersection of words and bodies a new site for both personal and cultural expression, one in which he could play a central role. In “General Aim and Theories,” Crane explains his desire to imagine a new kind of language in response to the conditions of modernity. “It is a terrific problem that faces the poet today—a world that is so in transition from a decayed culture toward a reorganization of human evaluations that there are few common terms, general denominators of speech that are solid enough or that ring with any vibration or spiritual conviction” (218). Later in the same essay, Crane stresses that these new common terms could not be expressed in conventional ways, but would need to constitute “a new word, never before spoken and impossible to actually enunciate” (221). For Crane, such words were “impossible to enunciate” because they were not actually spoken through the mouth, but rather expressed in other ways through the body. In “Voyages,” a six-part poem that appeared in his first book, The White Building, Crane explores the potential of these embodied words. Drawing in the influence of Walt Whitman, the work is an extended meditation on the intersection of languages, bodies, and love. The poem was inspired by his relationship with the merchant seaman Emil Oppfer. In it, embodied language appears as a privileged site of connection between individuals and the world. The first section of “Voyages,” which Crane had originally titled “Poster,” predated the composition of the rest of the poem by several years. It opens with a scene on a beach, “bright striped urchins” (I. 2) playing in the sand with their dog, “flay[ing] each other with sand” (I. 2). The speaker observes them on the border between land and sea. He attempts to communicate to them his sense of the sea’s danger, but is unsuccessful. And in answer to their treble interjectionsThe sun beats lightning on the waves,The waves fold thunder on the sand;And could they hear me I would tell them: O brilliant kids, frisk with your dog,Fondle your shells and sticks, bleachedBy time and the elements; but there is a lineYou must not cross nor ever trust beyond itSpry cordage of your bodies to caressesToo lichen-faithful from too wide a breast.The bottom of the sea is cruel. (I. 6-16) The speaker’s warning is incomprehensible to the children, not because they cannot literally hear him, but because he is unable to present his previous experience with the sea in a way that makes sense to the them. As Evelyn J. Hintz notes, “the child’s mode of communication is alogical and nonsyntactical—‘treble interjections.’ To tell them one would have to speak their language” (323). In the first section of the poem, the speaker is unable to do this, unable to get beyond linear verbal speech or to conceive of alternative modes of conveying his message. This frustrated communication in the first section gives rise to the need for the remaining five, as the poet explores what such alternatives might look like. In sections II through VI, the language becomes more difficult to follow as Crane breaks away from linearity in an attempt to present his newly conceived language on the page. The shift is apparent in the stanza immediately following the first section. –And yet this great wink of eternity,Of rimless floods, unfettered leewardings,Samite sheeted and processioned whereHer undinal vast belly moonward bendsLaughing the wrapt inflections of our love; (II. 1-5). It is not only that Crane’s diction has become more difficult and archaic, which it has, but also that he creates words that exist between two known meanings. “Wrapt,” for example, both visually and aurally calls to mind ‘wrapped’ as well as ‘rapt.’ “Leewardings” points both toward ships and something positioned away from the wind. What it means to be unrestrained or “unfettered” in this position, Crane leaves unclear. Throughout the remainder of the poem, he repeatedly employs these counterintuitive word pairings. Words are often connected not through logic, but through a kind of intuitive leap. As Brian Reed describes it, “the verse can…be said to progress ‘madly…logically,’ satisfying a reader’s intuition, perhaps, but rarely satisfying her or his rage for order” (115). The lines move according to what Crane called a “logic of metaphor” (General 63). Like his curving syntax, which draws the reader into the beautiful melody before pulling back, withholding definitive meaning like the sea’s waves lapping and teasing, Crane’s metaphoric associations endlessly defer definitive meaning. In “Voyages,” Crane associates this proliferation of meaning and lack of linear progression with physicality, with a language more corporeal and visceral that transcends the restrictions of everyday speech. In a letter to Waldo Frank describing the romantic relationship that inspired the poem, Crane declared “I have seen the Word made Flesh. I mean nothing less, and I know now that there is such a thing as indestructibility” (O 186). Throughout “Voyages,” Crane highlights such words made flesh. The sea with whom the speaker seeks to communicate is embodied, given “eyes and lips” (III.12), a “vast belly” (II. 4-5), “shoulders” (II. 16), and “veins” (II. 15). What’s more, it is precisely through the body that communication occurs. “Adagios of islands, O my Prodigal, / Complete the dark confessions her veins spell” (II. 14-15, emphasis mine), the poet entreats. He describes the sea’s “Portending eyes and lips” IV. 12), her “dialogue with eyes” (VI. 23), and declares that “In signature of the incarnate word / The harbor shoulders to resign in mingling / Mutual blood, transpiring as foreknown” (IV. 17-19, emphasis mine). It is only through this wordless communication that the kind of sublime meaning Crane seeks can be transmitted. For him, this “imaged Word” (VI.29) permits access to knowledge that conventional language obscures, knowledge that can only be transmitted through manual connection, as the speaker asks the sea to “Permit me voyage, love, into your hands…” (III.19). Crane saw the proliferation of meanings that he believed accompanied such embodied language as a response against the movement toward a standardisation of language that threatened to edit out modes of communication and identities that did not fit within its confines. As Thomas Yingling notes, “meaning, such as it occurs in Crane, is a process of indeterminacy, is constituted precisely in the abrupt disfigurements and dislocations, in the sudden clarities and semantic possibilities” (30). It was in large part these “semantic possibilities,” these indeterminate and multiple meanings that refused to line up, which led critics to characterise Crane’s work as a “poetics of failure” (Riddel). As later research into sign languages has revealed, however, far from representing a failure of poetic vision, Crane was actually incredibly forward thinking in associating embodied languages with a non-linear construction. Conventional spoken and written languages, those Crane was attempting to complicate, are necessarily linear. Letters and sounds must proceed one after another in order for an utterance to make sense. Manual languages, however, are not bound by this linearity. As Margalit Fox explained nearly a century later in Talking Hands, Because the human visual system is better than the auditory system at processing simultaneous information, a language in the visual mode can exploit this potential and encode its signals simultaneously. This is exactly what all signed languages do. Whereas words are linear strings, signs are compact bundles of data, in which multiple unites of code—handshapes, location and movement—are conveyed in virtually the same moment. (101) Such accounts of actual embodied languages help to explain the frustrating density that attends Crane’s words. Morphologically rich physical languages like the kind Crane was trying to imagine possess the ability for an increased layering of meaning. While limited by the page on which he writes, Crane attempted to create this layered affect through convoluted syntax and deliberately difficult vocabulary which led readers away from both a sense of fixed meaning and from normative standards usually applied to written words. Understanding this rebellion against standardisation is key to the turn in “Voyages.” It is when the speaker figures the sea’s language in conventional terms, when he returns to the more straightforward communication that failed in the first section, that the spell is broken. “What words / Can strangle this deaf moonlight?” (V. 8-9), he asks, and is almost instantly answered when the sea’s language switches for the first time into dialogue. Rather than the passionate and revelatory interaction it had been before, the language becomes banal, an imitation of tired words exchanged by lovers throughout history: “‘There’s // Nothing like this in the world,’ you say” (V. 13-14). “ ‘—And never to quite understand!’” (V. 18). There is “Nothing so flagless as this piracy” (V.20), this loss of meaningful communication, and the speaker bemoans the “Slow tyranny of moonlight, moonlight loved / And changed…” (V. 12-13). With the reversion to conventional language comes the loss of any intimate knowledge of both the sea and the lover. The speaker’s projection of verbal speech onto the sea causes it to “Draw in your head… / Your eyes already in the slant of drifting foam; / Your breath sealed by the ghosts I do not know” (V. 22-24). The imposition of normative language marks the end of the speaker’s experiment with new communicative modes. III. As he demonstrates by situating it in opposition to the enforced standardisation of language, for Crane embodied language—with its non-linear syntax and layered meanings—represented the future in terms of linguistic development. He saw such non-normative languages as having the potential to drastically change the ways human relationality was structured, specifically by creating a new level of intimacy through a merging of the semantic and the physical. In this way, he offers us productive new ways to think about the potential of manual languages, or any other non-normative means of human expression, to fundamentally impact society by challenging our assumptions about how we all relate to one another through language. When asked to define deafness, most people’s first response is to think of levels of hearing loss, of deficiency, or disability. By contrast, Crane’s approach presents a more constructive understanding of what communicative difference can mean. His poem provides an intense mediation on the possibilities of communication through the body, one that subsequent research into signed languages allows us to push even further. Crane believed that communicative diversity was necessary to move language into the next century. From this perspective, embodied language becomes not “merely” the concern of a “disabled” minority but, rather, integral to our understanding of language itself. References Batson, Trent, and Eugene Bergman, eds. Angels and Outcasts: An Anthology of Deaf Characters in Literature. 3rd ed. Washington DC: Gallaudet UP, 1985. Brunner, Edward J. Splendid Failure: Hart Crane and the Making of The Bridge. Champaign: U of Illinois P, 1985. Crane, Hart. “Voyages.” The Complete Poems of Hart Crane: The Centennial Edition. New York: Liveright, 2001. ———. “General Aims and Theories.” Hart Crane: Complete Poems and Selected Letters. Ed. Langdon Hammer. New York: The Library of America, 2006. 160-164. ———. O My Land, My Friends: The Selected Letters of Hart Crane. Eds. Langdon Hammer and Brom Weber. New York: Four Walls Eight Windows, 1997. Fox, Margalit. Talking Hands. New York: Simon and Schuster, 2007. Hinz, Evelyn J. “Hart Crane’s ‘Voyages’ Reconsidered.” Contemporary Literature 13.3 (1972): 315-333. New, Elisa. “Hand of Fire: Crane.” The Regenerate Lyric: Theology and Innovation in American Poetry. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1993. 182-263. North, Michael. The Dialect of Modernism: Race, Language, and Twentieth-Century Literature. Oxford: Oxford UP, 1994. Reed, Brian M. Hart Crane: After His Lights. Tuscaloosa, AL: U of Alabama P, 2006. Riddel, Joseph. “Hart Crane’s Poetics of Failure.” ELH 33.4 (1966): 473-496. Schuchman, John S. Hollywood Speaks: Deafness and the Film Entertainment Industry. Urbana: U of Illinois P, 1988. Yingling, Thomas. Hart Crane and the Homosexual Text: New Thresholds, New Anatomies. Chicago: U of Chicago P, 1990.

One of the problems working with and about technology is trying to define what exactly technology actually is. This seemingly straightforward, even banal question -- because, let's face it, we all know what technology is, don't we...? -- has caused philosophers since Aristotle no end of grief, and causes humble graduate students like myself unspeakable dilemmas. Attempting to define what technology is involves diving headlong into such murky problems as the subject/object dichotomy, the ontology of artefacts and the limits of the body -- that is, the very definition of humanity, if I may be so melodramatic. I won't pretend this piece will be even able to address all these problems, let alone solve them, but it may at least point to some of the ways the implications of this very simple question -- 'what is technology?' -- might be thought through. in which things seem so simple Of course, it is always possible that I am making a doctorate out of a molehill here, as there are a number of ostensibly straightforward and simple answers to this question. The first one is basic common sense, and which we might call naïve realism. It says that technology is artefacts made for and used by humans. End of story, right? Well maybe, but what is an artefact? It's an object-in-the-world, a thing-in-itself, which can be directly experienced through sense-impressions by conscious beings. It isn't a subject, obviously, because it's inert, nonhuman, constructed and totally nonconscious. (Remember -- guns don't kill, people do!) There are a few philosophical problems with such a naïve realism though, no matter what use as a rule of thumb it might be. For one, basic semiology demonstrates that whatever objects may or may not exist out there in the world, they are only sensible, comprehendible through and via discourse: to so much as understand an object means one is making sense not of the referent but of a signifier, which is, as we know, very definitely not an 'object-in-the-world'. Furthermore, to make the sort of ontological assumptions necessary to take for granted that objects are in fact objects-in-the-world, experienced or not by a subject, leads one more or less inexorably to the sort of crypto-fascism popularised by Ayn Rand and known, appropriately enough, as 'Objectivism'. in which things get a bit messier Another approach derives from our sense-impressions, and might be called inductive, or less charitably, naïve empiricism. We can, after all, decide fairly easily that some things -- cruise missiles, computers, automotive vehicles and microwave ovens, for example -- are quite obviously 'technological'. They don't appear in nature or spontaneously, they need a good deal of both human effort and other, pre-existing pieces of technology, to come into existence, and they consist largely of inorganic componentry. Other things -- human beings, most obviously, but other organic matter as well -- can reasonably be categorised as non-technological. Of course, once we move on past these simple examples, things get a bit messier: what exactly is a fulcrum, or a hammer, or a screw? Or a bandage? Technology, tool, non-technology or something else? Nevertheless, it is reasonable to expect that these problems might, in theory, be solvable with enough time and consensus. And yet, where does this leave someone like the Melbourne performance artist Stelarc? When he's not suspending himself from ceilings with fishhooks, he has a project known as the Third Arm. This consists of a metal arm-like mechanism, containing computer componentry, which is attached to his body. Simple enough -- sounds like technology: inorganic, non-natural and requiring sophisticated manufacturing capacity. Except that it is controlled and operated by the nerve-endings in his body, just like a real arm -- or a prosthetic arm, for that matter. It isn't attached like a dildo or a belt, it is attached and controlled like any organic limb. Okay, so maybe what Stelarc needs is not a new definition of technology but a strong bout of therapy and a good lie down, but what about pacemakers? Replacement hips? Dildos, for that matter? Or belts, for that matter? Or what about running shoes or football boots? There is a television advertisement for adidas football boots and featuring Alessandro del Piero, in which the ideal football player is built from the ground up according to written and reproducible specifications (that is, as a piece of technology) -- wearing adidas boots and looking exactly like the Juventus striker. True enough, this is just an advert on telly, they're allowed to use metaphor to shift their technologically produced product, but what about other sports people? James Hird, the AFL footballer, is about to have another (metal, technological) pin put in his foot; Michael Voss, another AFL footballer, has a plate in his leg and pins in his knee following a complete knee reconstruction. Where do their bodies end and the technology begin? Or mine, for that matter: I have a mouthful of mercury amalgam fillings, the result of a misspent childhood eating too much sugar. The fillings are obviously technological: they're inorganic, they require sophisticated manufacturing technology to install (unless your dentist is a butcher ouch!) and they're not naturally occurring. But they've been in my mouth for nearly two decades now, they're older and more part of me than any of my hair, nails or skin. Our inductive logic is just another rule of thumb, which breaks down just where it gets interesting, at the boundary of the body and the technology. It is neither by accident nor to be obfuscatory that Foucault talks of 'technologies of the self'. in which things cease making any sense whatsoever So if there is no technological ontology or taxonomy we can discern, what other possibilities are there for definitions of technology? One useful way forward comes from the Italian psychoanalyst Felix Guattari. In Chaosmosis, his last work before his untimely death, Guattari suggests that common usage would speak "of the machine as a subset of technology". However, he argues, we should "consider the problematic of technology as dependent upon machines, and not the inverse. The machine would become the prerequisite for technology rather than its expression. Machinism is an object of fascination ... about which there's a whole historical 'bestiary'. (33) A machine, or more precisely, a 'machinic assemblage' is thus a functional ensemble of different components that are swept up and reshaped by a power of ontological auto-affirmation (35). These components are by no means limited to material existence, however -- Guattari gives the example of the hammer, which can be destroyed through various ingenious means until it reaches "a threshold of formal consistency where it loses its form" -- where it ceases to be a hammer. This threshold beyond which a hammer ceases to be a hammer is not simply physical, however -- it might be semiotic or representational, for instance: "this machinic gestalt", says Guattari, "works moreover as much on a technological plane as an imaginary one, to evoke the dated memory of the hammer and sickle" (35). That is, "the technical object [is] nothing outside of the technical ensemble to which it belong[s]" (36): technology is never simply inert alterity, the silent other -- it always contains humans inside it and before it, and contains within it "a 'nonhuman' enunciation", a protosubjectivity (37). Another way to consider this queasy combination of subject and object that makes up technology -- and by corollary, makes up the body of the subject -- is through Bruno Latour's conception of the 'quasi-object' (closely allied, as it is, to the 'cyborg' deployed by Donna Haraway in some of her earlier work). Latour shares much of Guattari's unease at common-sense definitions of technology and his desire for 'ontological relativity' (51). Working from a sociological (albeit a French sociological tradition that is far less obsessed with particular forms of reductive rationality than the mainstream Anglo-American sociological tradition) rather than a philosophical or psychoanalytic perspective, Latour's quasi-object is perhaps more user-friendly and widely applicable than Guattari's machinic assemblages. In his work We Have Never Been Modern, his most sustained attempt at a coherent philosophy rather than a contingent pragmatics, Latour argues that the distinction between the Object and the Subject is not ontologically given nor a pre-existing truth, but rather the result of struggles over the naming of things as 'objects' or 'subjects'. "We do not need", says Latour, to attach our explanations to these two pure forms known as the Object or Subject/Society, because these are, on the contrary, partial and purified results of the central practice which is our concern. The explanations we seek will indeed obtain Nature and Society, but only as a final outcome, not as a beginning. (79) The quasi-object -- which Latour sometimes refers to as 'quasi-subject' to remind us that he is not simply describing especially complex objects -- is thus an entity of variable ontology and dimensions, structured by the particular and contingent needs of its own and of other quasi-objects who/that seek to enrol, mobilise or define it. Quasi-objects are, says Latour, "[r]eal as Nature, narrated as Discourse, collective as Society, existential as Being" (90). Questions like 'where does the body end?' or 'what is technology' therefore, are not so much abstract philosophical questions as very real struggles between different agglomerations -- different networks or arrangements, if you would -- of quasi-objects, the answer to which will not result from a logical exercise so much as a 'reality on the ground', to use current NATO parlance. As Latour says in a companion piece to We Have Never Been Modern, the quasi-object is a continuous passage, a commerce, an interchange, between what humans inscribe in it and what it prescribes in humans. It transplants the one into the other. This thing is the nonhuman version of people, it is the human version of things. (ARAMIS or The Love of Technology 213) So there we have an answer -- questions concerning technology and the body do not need to be answered before one proceeds to study any given socio-technical imbroglio, because they are not ontological realities. Rather, such questions become answerable -- albeit in highly contingent and specific ways -- as one proceeds through the research and the variable geometries and ontologies of the assemblage of actors becomes apparent and definable. Sure, its not as universal as Heidegger, I admit, but it's a damn sight more useful. postscript: in which the plot has been lost If we take seriously Latour and Guattari's imputation of agency and removal of certainty from what used to be harmless objects, we are led, eventually, to question just what we, as speaking, thinking, centres of agency -- i.e., as subjects -- actually are. If we too are quasi-objects, where does subjectivity reside and come from? Although I can confidently state that there are several doctoral theses in that question, I'd like to hazard a solution in the space available. Guattari and his frequent collaborator, the French philosopher Gilles Deleuze, in their immense work A Thousand Plateaus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia, define a mode of individuation that is not a subjectivity as a haecceity (261). The haecceity precedes, exists underneath and exceeds the subject -- they are "the subjectless individuations that constitute collective assemblages" (266), "the entire assemblage in its individuated aggregate" (262). That is what people are, that is what we are: collective assemblages of haecceities -- of looks and stomachs and fillings, of becomings and desires and histories and career paths, of tired feet and sore heads, of emotions, mood swings and family backgrounds, and many more individuations and affects. As Deleuze and Guattari state, you will yield nothing to haecceities unless you realise that is what you are, and you are nothing but that. ... You are longitude and latitude, a set of speeds and slownesses between unformed particles, a set of nonsubjectified affects. You have the individuality of a day, a season, a life (regardless of its duration) -- a climate, a wind, a fog, a swarm, a pack (regardless of its regularity). Or at least you can have it, you can reach it. (262) Where does my body end? Well, that depends upon the question. References Deleuze, Gilles, and Felix Guattari. A Thousand Plateaus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia. Trans. Brian Massumi. Minneapolis: U of Minnesota P, 1987. Foucault, Michel. The Care of the Self. Vol.3 of The History of Sexuality. Trans. Robert Hurley. New York: Pantheon Books, 1986. Guattari, Felix. Chaosmosis: An Ethico-Aesthetic Paradigm. Trans. Paul Bains and Julian Pefanis. Sydney: Power Publications, 1995. Haraway, Donna. Simians, Cyborgs, and Women: The Reinvention of Nature. New York: Routledge, 1991. Latour, Bruno. ARAMIS or the Love of Technology. Trans. Catherine Porter. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard UP, 1996. ---.We Have Never Been Modern. Trans. Catherine Porter. London: Harvester Wheatsheaf, 1993. Citation reference for this article MLA style: Sean Aylward Smith. "Where Does the Body End?" M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2.3 (1999). [your date of access] <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9905/end.php>. Chicago style: Sean Aylward Smith, "Where Does the Body End?" M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2, no. 3 (1999), <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9905/end.php> ([your date of access]). APA style: Sean Aylward Smith. (1999) Where does the body end? M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2(3). <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9905/end.php> ([your date of access]).

Murray Forman’s text The ‘Hood Comes First: Race, Space, and Place in Rap and Hip-Hop provides insightful commentary on the workings of and relationship between place and space. To highlight the difference of scale between these two parameters, he writes that, “place defines the immediate locale of human interaction in the particular, whereas space is the expanse of mobile trajectories through which subjects pass in their circulation between or among distinct and varied places” (25). This statement reflects Doreen Massey’s earlier observation from her book Space, Place, and Gender that “one view of a place is as a particular articulation” of the spatial (5). These descriptions clarify how human action shapes, and is shaped by, what Forman describes as the “more narrowly circumscribed parameters” of place (25) and the broader realm of space. Clearly, these two terms describe interconnected components that are socially constructed and dynamic: that is, they operate at different scales but are constructed in time, constantly reshaped by human action and perception. “Space and time are inextricably interwoven,” states Massey. She continues: “It is not that the interrelations between objects occur in space and time; it is these relationships themselves which create/define space and time” (261). If place and space represent different scales of social interaction and space and time are interconnected, place and time must be linked as well.While this indicates that human experience and representation operate on different scales, it is important to note that these two factors are also interrelated. As Stuart Hall writes, “[I]t is only through the way in which we represent and imagine ourselves that we come to know how we are constituted and who we are” (473). There is no objective experience, only that which is subjectively represented through various means. Through depictions of these relationships between place, space, and time, rap music shapes listeners’ comprehension of these parameters. DJs, MCs, producers, and other creative artists express personal observations through the influence of both the local and global, the past and present. In rap lyrics and their musical accompaniment, countries, cities, neighbourhoods, and even specific government housing developments inform the music, but the identities of these places and spaces are not fixed – for the performers or for the audience. They are more than the backdrop for what happens, inanimate structures or coordinates of latitude and longitude. Their dynamic nature, and their representation in music, serves to continually redefine “how we are constituted and who we are” (473).In MC Solaar’s Léve-toi et Rap from his 2001 album Cinquième as and his song Nouveau Western, from 1994’s Prose Combat, this is demonstrated in two very different ways. Léve-toi et Rap, a personal history told in the first person, clearly demonstrates both American hip-hop lineage and the transnational influences of Solaar’s upbringing. This song serves as an example of the adoption of American musical and lyrical techniques as means through which personally empowering, often place-based stories are told. In Nouveau Western, the narrative demonstrates the negative effects of globalization through this story about a geographically and temporally transported American cowboy. This track employs musical materials in a way that reflects the more critical lyrical commentary on the repercussions of American cultural and economic power. Through the manner of his storytelling, and through the stories themselves, MC Solaar explicitly demonstrates his own agency in representing, and thus constructing the meaning of, dynamic place and space as they are defined from these two perspectives.As a Paris-based French rapper, MC Solaar often makes his affiliation to this geographic focal point significant in his lyrics. This is especially clear in Léve-toi et Rap, in which Parisian banlieues (HLM government housing projects), nightclubs, and other places figure prominently in the text. From the lyrics, one learns a great deal about this rapper and his background: MC Solaar was born in Senegal, but his parents brought him to France when he was young (MC Solaar, “Léve-toi et Rap”; Petetin, 802, 805). He grew up struggling with the isolation and social problems of the banlieues and the discrimination he faced as an immigrant. He began rapping, established a musical career, and now encourages others to rap as a means of making something constructive out of a challenging situation. In the excerpt below, MC Solaar explains these origins and the move to the banlieues (Solaar, “Lève-toi et rap;” All translations by the author).Lève-toi et rap elaborates on the connection between the local and global in rap music, and between place, space, and time. The lyrics and music represent these properties in part by appropriating American rap’s stylistic practices. The introductory chorus incorporates sampled lyrics of the American artists Lords of the Underground, the Beastie Boys, Nas, and Redman (Various Contributors, “‘Lève-toi et rap’ Direct Sample of Vocals/Lyrics,” whosampled.com.). A bassline originally recorded by the funk group The Crusaders grounds the musical accompaniment that begins with the first verse (partially printed above), in which MC Solaar begins to depict his own place and space as he has experienced it temporally.In this chorus, the first sample is “I remember way back in the days on my block” from Lords of the Underground’s song Tic-Toc. This leads to “Oh My God” and “Ah, Ah, Ah,” both samples from Q-Tip’s contribution to the Beastie Boys’ song Get It Together. “I Excel,” which appears in Nas’s It Ain’t Hard to Tell comes next. The last sample, “Who Got the Funk,” is from Can’t Wait by Redman (Lords of the Underground, “Tic-Tic;” Beastie Boys and Q-Tip, “Get It Together;” Nas, “It Ain’t Hard to Tell;” The Crusaders, “The Well’s Gone Dry”).Scratching begins the introductory chorus (printed below), which ends with a voice announcing “MC Solaar.” At this point, the sampled bassline from The Crusaders’ 1974 song The Well’s Gone Dry begins.[Scratching]I remember back in the days on my block... Lords of the UndergroundOh my God... Ah, Ah, Ah... Beastie Boys and Q-TipI excel… NasWho got the funk... RedmanMC Solaar[Crusaders sample begins] The rap samples all date from 1994, the year Solaar released his well-received album Prose Combat and most are strategically placed: the first sample originated in the last verse of Tic-Toc, the Q-Tip samples in the middle are from the middle of Get It Together, and the last sample, “I Excel,” is from the first line of It Ain’t Hard to Tell. As Lève-toi et rap continues, MC Solaar’s statement of the song title itself replaces the iteration “MC Solaar” of the first chorus. In a sense, “Lève-toi et rap” becomes the last sample of the chorus. Through these American references, Solaar demonstrates an affiliation with the place in which rap is commonly known to have originally coalesced. For French rappers consciously working to prove their connection to rap’s lineage, such demonstrations are useful (Faure and Garcia, 81-82). Achieved by sampling music and lyrics from 1974 and 1994 from sources that are not all that obvious to a casual listener, Solaar spatially connects his work to the roots of rap (Shusterman, 214). These particular samples also highlight a spatial relationship to particular styles of rap that represent place and space in particular ways. Nas and Lords of the Underground, for instance, have added to the discourse on street credibility and authenticity, while Q-tip has provided commentary on social and political issues. MC Solaar’s own story widens the parameters for illustrating these concepts, as he incorporates the personally significant places such as Senegal, Chad, and the Saint Denis banlieue to establish street credibility on a transnational scale; the lyrics also describe serious social and political issues, including the “skinheads” he encountered while living in Paris. Dynamic place is clear throughout all of this, as everything occurring in these places is meaningful in part because of the unavoidable relationship with the passing of time – Solaar’s birth, his upbringing, and his success occurred through his choices and social interactions in specific places.Looking more closely at the representation of place and time, Lève-toi et rap is less than straightforward. As discussed previously, some of the vocal samples are rearranged, demonstrating purposeful alteration of pre-recorded material; in contrast, the use of a repeated funk bassline sample during a clear narrative of Solaar’s life juxtaposes a linear story with a non-linear musical accompaniment. To this, MC Solaar made a contemporary textual contribution to later choruses, with the title of the song added as the chorus’s last line. Such manipulation in the context of this first-person narrative to express this movement supports the conclusion that, far from being a victim of political and economic forces, MC Solaar has used them to his advantage. After all, the title of the song itself, Lève-toi et rap, translates roughly to “get up and rap.”In addition to manipulating the materials of American rap and funk for this purpose, Solaar’s use of verlan, a type of slang used in the banlieues, brings another level of locality to Lève-toi et rap. The use of verlan brings the song’s association with French banlieue culture closer: by communicating in a dialect fluently understood by relatively few, rappers ensure that their message will be understood best by those who share the constellation of social and temporal relations of these housing developments (Milon, 75). Adding verlan to other slang and to unique grammatical rules, the rap of the banlieues is to some extent in its own language (Prévos, “Business” 902-903).Referring to MC Solaar’s 1994 album Prose Combat, André Prévos observed that this material “clearly illustrates the continuity of this tradition, all the while adding an identifiable element of social and personal protest as well as an identifiable amount of ‘signifying’ also inspired by African American hip-hip lyrics” (Prévos, “Postcolonial” 43). While it is clear at this point that this is also true for Lève-toi et rap from Cinquème as, Nouveau Western from Prose Combat demonstrates continuity in different way. To start, the samples used in this song create a more seamless texture. A sample from the accompaniment to Serge Gainsbourg’s Bonnie and Clyde from 1967 undergirds the song, providing a French pop reference to a story about an American character (Various Contributors, “Nouveau Western” whosampled.com). The bassline from Bonnie and Clyde is present throughout Nouveau Western, while the orchestral layer from the sample is heard during sections of the verses and choruses. Parts of the song also feature alto saxophone samples that provide continuity with the jazz-influenced character of many songs on this album.The contrasts with Lève-toi et rap continue with the lyrical content. Rather than describing his own process of acquiring knowledge and skill as he moved in time from place to place, in Nouveau Western MC Solaar tells the story of a cowboy named “Harry Zona” who was proud and independent living in Arizona, hunting for gold with his horse, but who becomes a victim in contemporary Paris. In the fabled west, the guns he carries and his method of transportation facilitate his mission: Il erre dans les plaines, fier, solitaire. Son cheval est son partenaire [He wanders the plains, proud, alone. His horse is his partner.]. After suddenly being transported to modern-day Paris, he orders a drink from an “Indian,” at a bistro and “scalps” the foam off, but this is surely a different kind of person and practice than Solaar describes Harry encountering in the States (MC Solaar, “Nouveau Western”).After leaving the bistro, Harry is arrested driving his stagecoach on the highway and shut away by the authorities in Fresnes prison for his aberrant behaviour. His pursuit of gold worked for him in the first context, but the quest for wealth advanced in his home country contributed to the conditions he now faces, and which MC Solaar critiques, later in the song. He raps, Les States sont comme une sorte de multinationale / Elle exporte le western et son monde féudal / Dicte le bien, le mal, Lucky Luke et les Dalton [The States are a kind of multinational”/ “They export the western and its feudal way/ Dictate the good the bad, Lucky Luke and the Daltons] (MC Solaar, “Nouveau Western”).Harry seems to thrive in the environment portrayed as the old west: as solitary hero, he serves as a symbol of the States’ independent spirit. In the nouveau far west [new far west] francophone comic book characters Lucky Luke and the Daltons sont camouflés en Paul Smith’s et Wesson [are camouflaged in Paul Smith’s and Wesson], and Harry is not equipped to cope with this confusing combination. He is lost as he negotiates le système moderne se noie l’individu [the modern system that drowns the individual]. To return to Bonnie and Clyde, these ill-fated and oft-fabled figures weren’t so triumphant either, and in Gainsbourg’s song, they are represented by 1960s French pop rather than by even a hint of local 1930s musical traditions. “Harry Zona” is not the only person whose story unfolds through the lens of another culture.While Solaar avoids heavy use of verlan or other Parisian slang in this song, he does use several American cultural references, some of which I have already mentioned. In addition, the word “western” refers to western movies, but it also serves as another term for the United States and its cultural exports. “Hollywood” is another term for the west, and in this context MC Solaar warns his listeners to question this fictional setting. Following his observation that John Wayne looks like Lucky Luke, “well groomed like an archduke,” he exclaims Hollywood nous berne, Hollywood berne! [Hollywood fooled us! Hollywood fools!]. This is followed by, on dit gare au gorille, mais gare à Gary Cooper [as they say watch out for the gorilla, watch out for Gary Cooper]. Slick characters like the ones Gary Cooper played have ultimately served as cultural capital that has generated economic capital for the “multinational” States that Solaar describes. As Harry moves “epochs and places,” he discovers that this sort of influence, now disguised in fashion-forward clothing, is more influential than his Smith and Wesson of the old west (MC Solaar, “Nouveau Western”).It is important to note that this narrative is described with the language of the cultural force that it critiques. As Geoffrey Baker writes, “MC Solaar delves into the masterpieces and linguistic arsenal of his colonizers in order to twist the very foundations of their linguistic oppression against them” (Baker, 241). These linguistic – and cultural – references facilitate this ironic critique of the “new Far West”: Harry suffers in the grip of a more sophisticated gold rush (MC Solaar, “Nouveau Western”).Lève-toi et rap transforms musical and verbal language as well, but the changes are more overt. Even though the musical samples are distinctly American, they are transformed, and non-American places of import to MC Solaar are described with heavy use of slang. This situates the song in American and French cultural territory while demonstrating Solaar’s manipulation of both. He is empowered by the specialized expression of place and space, and by the loud and proud references to a dynamic upbringing, in which struggle culminates in triumph.Empowerment through such manipulation is an attractive interpretation, but because this exercise includes the transformation of a colonizer’s language, it ultimately depends on understanding rap as linked to some extent to what Murray Forman and Tricia Rose describe as “Western cultural imperialism” (Rose, 19; Forman, 21). Both Rose and Forman point out that rap has benefitted from what Rose describes as “the disproportionate exposure of U.S. artists around the world,” (Rose, 19) even though this music has provided an avenue through which marginalized groups have articulated social and political concerns (Rose, 19; Forman 21). The “transnational circulation of contemporary culture industries” that Forman describes (21) has benefitted multinational corporations, but it has also provided new means of expression for those reached by this global circulation. Additionally, this process has engendered a sense of community around the world among those who identify with rap’s musical and lyrical practices and content; in many cases, rap’s connection to the African diaspora is a significant factor in the music’s appeal. This larger spatial connection occurs alongside more locally place-based connections. Lève-toi et rap clearly manifests this sense of simultaneously negotiating one’s role as a global citizen and as an individual firmly grounded in the place and space of local experience.Even though rap has been a music of resistance to hegemonic social and economic forces for people around the world, it is nonetheless important to recognize that the forces that have disseminated this music on a global scale have contributed to the unequal distribution of wealth and power. Working within this system is almost always unavoidable for rappers, many of whom criticize these conditions in their music, but depend on these transnational corporations for their success. Paul A. Silverstein writes that “hip-hop formations themselves, while enunciating an explicit critique of both state interventionism and the global market, have directly benefited from both and, to be sure, simultaneously desire their end and their continuation” (47-48). This is very clear in Nouveau Western, which Silverstein writes “portrayed neo-liberalism as a ‘new Far West’ where credit cards replace Remingtons.” (48) That this critique has reached a large audience in the francophone world and elsewhere highlights the irony of the situation: under the current system of popular musical production and circulation, such material often must reach its audience through complicity with the very system it denounces. This view on the mixture of the local and global presented in these songs illustrates this confusing situation, but from another perspective, the representation of social interaction on varying scales connects to the factors that have contributed to rap since its inception. Local places and geographically broad spatial connections have been articulated in constantly changing ways through musical and lyrical sampling, original lyrical references, and the uses that creators, listeners, and the industry enact vis-à-vis global rap culture. Whether revealed through clear references to American rap that facilitate a personal narrative or through a more complicated critique of American culture, MC Solaar’s songs Lève-toi et rap and Nouveau Western expose some accomplishments of a French rapper whose work reveals personal agency both outside and within the “multinational” United States. ReferencesBaker, Geoffrey. “Preachers, Gangsters, Pranksters: MC Solaar and Hip-Hop as Overt and Covert Revolt.” The Journal of Popular Culture 44 (2011): 233-54.Beastie Boys and Q-Tip. “Get It Together.” Ill Communication. Grand Royal Records, 1994. CD.Faure, Sylvia, and Marie-Carmen Garcia. “Conflits de Valeurs et Générations.” Culture Hip Hop Jeunes des Cités et Politiques Publiques. Paris: La Dispute SNÉDIT, 2005. 69-83. Forman, Murray. “Space Matters: Hip-Hop and the Spatial Perspective.” The ‘Hood Comes First: Race, Space and Place in Rap and Hip-Hop. Middletown: Wesleyan UP, 2002. 1- 34. Hall, Stuart. “What Is This ‘Black’ in Black Popular Culture?” Critical Dialogues in Cultural Studies, Edited by David Morley and Kuan-Hsing Chen. London: Routledge, 1996. 465-475. Lords of the Underground. “Tic-Tic.” Keepers of the Funk. Pendulum Records, 1994. CD.Massey, Doreen. Space, Place and Gender. Minneapolis: U of Minnesota Press, 1994. 19-24.Milon, Alain. “Pourquoi le Rappeur Chante? Le Rap comme Expression de la Relégation Urbaine.” Cités 19 (2004): 71-80.MC Solaar (Claude M’Barali). “Lève-toi et rap.” Cinquème as. Wea International, 2001. CD.———. “Nouveau Western.” Prose Combat. Cohiba, 1994. CD.Nas. “It Ain’t Hard to Tell.” Illmatic. Columbia Records, 1994. CD.Petetin, Véronique. “Slam, Rap, et ‘Mondialité.” Études 6 (June 2009): 797-808.Prévos, André J.M. “Le Business du Rap en France.” The French Review 74 (April 2001): 900-21.———. “Postcolonial Popular Music in France.” Global Noise: Rap and Hip-Hop outside the USA. Ed. Tony Mitchell. Middletown: Wesleyan UP, 2001. 39-56. Rose, Tricia. Black Noise: Rap Music and Black Culture in Contemporary America. Middletown: Wesleyan UP, 1994.Shusterman, Richard. “L’Estitique Postmoderne du Rap.” Rue Deseartes 5/6 (November 1992): 209-28.Silverstein, Paul A. “‘Why Are We Waiting to Start the Fire?’: French Gangsta Rap and the Critique of State Capitalism.” Black, Blanc, Beur: Rap Music and Hip-Hop Culture in the Francophone World. Ed. Alain-Philippe Durand. Oxford: Scarecrow Press, 2002. 45-67. The Crusaders. “The Well’s Gone Dry.” Southern Comfort. ABC/Blue Thumb Records, 1974. CD.Various Contributors. “‘Lève-toi et rap’ Direct Sample of Vocals/Lyrics.” whosampled.com.———. “‘Nouveau Western’ Direct Sample of Hook/Riff.” whosampled.com.Various Contributors. “MC Solaar – ‘Lève-toi et rap’ Lyrics.” Rap Genius.