Journal articles on the topic 'Singers, correspondence'

AbstractThis article examines the protracted negotiations between the castrato Francesco Bernardi, known as ‘Senesino’, and the Royal Academy of Music, documented in five letters sent by the singer to diplomat Giuseppe Riva between 1717 and 1720. They reveal a tight network of singers, patrons and agents, and highlight how Senesino negotiated not only for a role of primo uomo in the cast, but also for a role of artistic influence in London. This episode in Senesino’s career together with examples of ‘unofficial’ directorial practice and ‘hidden’ artistic influence of singers such as Nicola Grimaldi (‘Nicolini’), Antonio Bernacchi and Luigi Marchesi suggest a yet stronger presence of singers, especially castrati, in the economy of eighteenth-century opera than has been hitherto recognised.

The analysis of the causes of the pathology of the vocal apparatus in vocalists is carried out. 136 singers were investigated in age from 23 till 70 years old with length of service from 3 till 42 years. It is shown that the occurrence of diseases of the larynx is affected by the state of the vocal apparatus itself, the volume and intensity of the vocal load. Of great importance is the quality of the singer’s vocal training, his age and length of service, the availability of additional work (concert, pedagogical activity), the correspondence of the performed parts to the singer’s technical and acting abilities, domestic and social living conditions. The structure of voice apparatus diseases also depend on type of singer’s voice and his nervous system status. Prevention of impaired voice function in musical theater vocalists should be aimed at eliminating all provoking factors.

Anteroposterior diameter changes of the rib cage and abdomen were recorded during respiratory, speaking, and singing activities in six adult male subjects, all baritones with extensive classical singing training and performance experience. Data were charted to solve for lung volume, volume displacements of the rib cage and abdomen, and inferred muscular mechanisms. Separate major roles were inferred for different parts of the respiratory apparatus in the singing process. The abdomen served as a posturing element that mechanically tuned the diaphragm and rib cage to optimal configurations for performance. The rib cage operated as a pressure-flow generating element that regulated expiratory drive. And, the diaphragm functioned as an inspiratory element devoted to reinflating the lungs. Subjects' descriptions of how they thought they breathed during singing bore little correspondence to how they actually breathed. Implications for the training of singers are offered.

Purpose – There has been virtually no explication of poetry-writing pedagogy in historical accounts of Australian distance education during the 1930s. The purpose of this paper is to satisfy this gap in scholarship. Design/methodology/approach – The paper concerns a particular episode in the cultural history of education; an episode upon which print media of the 1930s sheds a distinctive light. The paper therefore draws extensively on 1930s press reports to: contextualise the key educational debates and prime-movers inspiring verse-writing pedagogy in Australian education, particularly distance education, in order to; concentrate specific attention on the creation and popular reception of Brave Young Singers (1938), the first and only anthology of children's poetry written entirely by students of the correspondence classes of Western Australia. Findings – Published under the auspices of the Australian Council for Educational Research (ACER) with funds originating from the Carnegie Corporation, two men in particular proved crucial to the development and culmination of Brave Young Singers. As the end result of a longitudinal study conducted by James Albert Miles with the particular support of Frank Tate, the publication attracted acclaim as a research document promoting ACER's success in educational research investigating the “experiment” of poetry-writing instruction through correspondence schooling. Originality/value – The paper pays due critical attention to a previously overlooked anthology of Australian children's poetry while simultaneously presenting an original account of the emergence and implementation of verse-writing instruction within the Australian correspondence class curriculum of the 1930s.

To ensure a significant place among both the local and international Bhojpuri singers, the singers keep reproducing the cultural content of this type of Bhojpuri songs, called the ‘Jhoomar’ which literally means dancing in a circular motion. However, in this process of cultural evolution, the fear of either preserving the traditional or digressing from the latter will always be there. This paper deals with the sociological analysis of jhoomar songs of the present generation who create new lyrics in the Mauritian Bhojpuri songs. For entertainment purposes, some singers, at times, interpret the traditional forms in an expression of personal or group identity. The recent albums of certain of the artistes deal with contemporary issues, true to an articulation of social hierarchies, most notably race, gender and class. In correspondence to contemporary issues, a research question arises with the preservation of traditional form, how do the contemporary songs relate to broader social distinctions, especially class, race and gender? Fieldwork with local Bhojpuri singers has helped in understanding the significance of the study. This paper argues from a conceptual analysis of popular cultural significance of the study. The content of these jhoomar songs are relevant in culture and music of the 21st century, entailing fascinating issues of discussion.

The phenomenon known as the heavenly choir was a common feature of early Pentecostal worship and revival, rivaled only by speaking in tongues. Participation in the heavenly choir was transformative of both singer and hearer, producing a desire for a fuller experience of God. The experience of participation in the communion of singers transformed the marginalized into prophetic leaders, their earthy meeting places became sanctuaries of ‘heaven below’. This transformation was subversive in that dominant cultural constructs based on race, gender, class, ethnicity, and age were weakened if not toppled. Interpretation of this phenomenon by participants involved an approach to Scripture more dynamic than the later biblicism, interpreters finding resonance with the worship scenes in the book of Revelation rather than dependence upon a one-to-one correspondence of events in the Acts narrative or discourse by Paul, subverting later doctrinal construction beholden to Evangelical schemes.

Song playback to western meadowlarks (Sturnella neglecta) at Delta, Manitoba, using recordings of song types that the subjects had in their repertoires, showed that the tendency of males to respond with the same song type (match) depended on the source of the recording. Song-type matching decreased from own to stranger to neighbor recordings (not significantly above the chance level in the latter case). An explanation for these results is offered that combines elements of facilitation and neighbor recognition. Correspondence between response latency and intersong intervals of the responding bird suggested that matching song was entrained by the playback but nonmatching responses were not. This indicates that matching and nonmatching are qualitatively different responses. However, matching and nonmatching responses did not differ with respect to conventional measures of response strength. Matching directs a response to a particular singer and may facilitate one-to-one exchange of information, for example, concerning location of the singers. Comparisons are drawn with parallel studies of great tits (Parus major).

These extracts on music from the correspondence between Charles Jennens (1700–73) and Edward Holdsworth (1684–1746) reflect the authors' shared interests and (prohibited) political views. Though commonly known as the librettist of Messiah, Jennens was also a collector of music and art, and as such capitalized on Holdworth's travels as a tutor of young gentlemen on the Grand Tour. Many of the letters detail musical commissions and their fulfilment by a willing Holdsworth. In return, Jennens acted as Holdsworth's financial advisor, editorial consultant and publication adviser. Other discussions centre around the public and personal rating of singers and operas, in London and abroad, and include discussions of Handel's fortunes, his borrowing of music from Jennens's collection and his health. Mentions of personnel are not restricted to musicians but also encompass members of Jennens's family and of his and Holdsworth's social circles, many of whom were supporters of Handel.

AbstractThis article delves into the lives and careers of two significant Russian singers: the bass Osip Petrov and his wife, the mezzo-soprano Anna Vorobyova, who created or inspired leading roles in operas by Glinka, Dargomïzhsky and Musorgsky. Over the course of a career that spanned some four decades, Petrov would become the most celebrated Russian bass of the nineteenth century; Vorobyova, whose career was cut short by a tragic accident, would turn her attention to the private sphere and incubate a younger generation of musicians. Drawing on reviews, memoirs and personal correspondence, I chart the influence of this couple not only on individual composers and operas, but also on the development of stock characters such as the father, the buffoon, the antihero and the trouser role.

This article is focused on Eugene O’Neill’s failed artistic collaborations with outstanding directors, actors and singers. It is the first attempt, in the Russian theatre studies, to get to the truth behind the playwright’s unrealized tandem with the legendary opera singer Feodor Chaliapin. The creative destiny of O’Neill’s play Lazarus Laughed (1927) is tracked from the attempts to stage it in New York, Chicago, Berlin and Moscow, all the way to the long-anticipated premiere at the Pasadena Playhouse in Pasadena, California. Special attention is paid to the Kamerny Theatre shows in Paris and Buenos Aires. Also under scrutiny is the American playwright’s private correspondence — in particular, with literary agent Richard Madden, translator Alexander Berkman and theatre producer Kenneth Macgowan. Particular emphasis is put on the playwright’s work behind the scenes and his active contribution to the translation of his ideas to the stage. The article reflects O’Neill’s approach to picking actors for lead roles in the stage productions of his plays, and also gives a logical conclusion to his failed meeting with two-time Academy Award winner Spencer Tracy at the Tao House in Danville, California. The paper provides a review of Ingrid Bergman’s acting performance in the Anna Christie production (Lobero Theatre, Santa Barbara, 1941) and in Jose Quintero’s Broadway production More Stately Mansions (Broadhurst Theatre, New York, 1967) based on Eugene O’Neill’s late unfinished play.

This Article Reports Two Experiments. In the first experiment, 13 professional singers performed a vocal exercise consisting of three ascending and descending melodic intervals: minor second, tritone, and perfect fifth. Seconds were sung more narrowly but fifths more widely in both directions, as compared to their equally tempered counterparts. In the second experiment, intonation accuracy in performances recorded from the first experiment was evaluated in a listening test. Tritones and fifths were more frequently classified as out of tune than seconds. Good correspondence was found between interval tuning and the listeners responses. The performers themselves evaluated their performance almost randomly in the immediate post-performance situation but acted comparably to the independent group after listening to their own recording. The data suggest that melodic intervals may be, on an average, 20 to 25 cents out of tune and still be estimated as correctly tuned by expert listeners.

On the example of connected historic facts it is analyzed the separate aspects of interaction of the Italian community, the Italian consulate, regional and municipal authority, management of the Odessa city theatre for the purpose of decision of disciplinary problems and legal collisions which have arisen concerning actors of the Italian troupe. For the purpose of all-round studying of the problem a number of special methods of the scientific analysis is involved: narrative, systematic and locally-historical. As a result of problem investigation it is proved that imperfection of the theatrical contracts signed with the entrepreneur, ignoring of requirements of actors’ qualification at hiring in troupe structure led to indignations in troupe and in local Italian community. Events of arrest and deportation to Italy singers of chorus of V.Antuano and L.Ichillio for violent acts and other infringements of public calmness became an example of effective interaction of the Italian community, consulate and local authorities as well.

the modern cultural preferences of children and youth pose the task for teachers of aesthetic education of students, the formation of their musical tastes in the process of teaching. This problem receives a special sound when students of foreign pop are included in the educational repertoire. On the one hand, children get the opportunity to expand their horizons, deepen ideas about the styles and genres of modern music, get acquainted with the work of famous foreign pop singers of the past and the present, master new techniques of performance, increase the level of proficiency in a foreign language, etc. On the other hand, the question arises about the correspondence of these works to the age characteristics of novice vocalists, about the content side of mastered music. Picking up a foreign repertoire, the teacher, as a rule, turns to the work of pop performers whose works are addressed to an adult listener, which requires an extremely attentive attitude to what information is contained in the words of the song.

Gio. Giacomo Zamboni, merchant, diplomat and amateur harpsichordist, was born in Florence on 26 July 1683, arrived in London late in 1711 and lived there until his death on 8 April 1753. His career closely parallels that of George Frideric Handel, composer, manager and harpsichordist, who was born in Hanover in 1685, arrived in London late in 1710 and lived there from late 1712 until his death in 1759. When these two men arrived in London, opera in Italian was a novelty at the Queen's Theatre in the Haymarket, which had just begun to employ Italian singers, instrumentalists, composers, librettists and stage designers. During the ensuing decades, there was an unprecedented influx of Italian performers and creators who, like Handel and other ‘outlandish’ personnel at this theatre, found that salaries were higher, working conditions were better and freedom was greater in England than in their own lands. Many therefore stayed as long as possible, and their artistic accomplishments as well as their intricate interactions with British and foreign patrons, diplomats, merchants and musicians are fascinating endeavours that deserve detailed study. At present, the best survey is that in George Dorris, Paolo Rolli and the Italian Circle in London, 1715–44 (The Hague and Paris, 1967), which focuses upon literary accomplishments. The essential base for any such study must, of course, be primary source materials, which include letters and other documents as well as librettos and scores. My hope is that the passages cited below from 458 items, most of which have never before been printed, will significantly broaden our base for study of ‘the Italian circle’ in London between 1716 and 1750.

PURPOSE: To map voice handicap of popular singers with a general voice and two singing voice self-assessment questionnaires. METHODS: Fifty singers, 25 male and 25 female, 23 with vocal complaint and 27 without vocal complaint answered randomly the questionnaires. For the comparison of data, the following statistical tests were performed: Mann-Whitney, Friedman, Wilcoxon, Spearman and Correlation. RESULTS: Data showed that the VHI yielded a smaller handicap when compared to the other two questionnaires (VHI x S-VHI - p=0.001; VHI x MSVH - p=0.004). The S-VHI and MSVH produced similar results (p=0.723). Singers with vocal complaint had a VHI total score of 17.5. The other two instruments showed more deviated scores (S-VHI - 24.9; MSVH - 25.2). There was no relationship between gender and singing style with the handicap perceived. A weak negative correlation between the perceived handicap and the time of singing experience was found (-37.7 to -13.10%), that is, the smaller the time of singing experience, the greater the handicap is. CONCLUSION: The questionnaires developed for the assessment of singing voice, S-VHI and MSVH, showed to be more specific and correspondent to each other for the evaluation of vocal handicap in singers. Findings showed that the more the time of singer's singing experience, the smaller the handicap is. Gender and singing styles did not influence the perception of the handicap.

The article deals with the formation of sacred music by Christians in the early Middle Ages. Basing on the historical sources and scientific literature, the authors show a connection between the musical traditions of Rome, the Western Goths of Spain and the empire of Charlemagne. The teaching of professional church singers, the birth of Mass, the complexity of the musical pattern of Christian singing, the educational ideas of Isidore of Seville and Alcuin of York, the metriz school timely opened by Christian mentors – all of it contributed to the formation of the early medieval educational process. Alcuin is the author of many (about 380) Latin instructive, panegyric, hagiographic, and liturgical poems (among the most famous are The Cuckoo (lat. De cuculo) and The Primate and Saints of the York Church (lat. De pontificibus et sanctis Ecclesiae Eboracensis )). Alcuin also wrote puzzles in poetry and prose. Alkuin conducted the extensive correspondence (with Charles the Great, Anguilbert, Pope Leo III and many others, a total of 232 letters to various people); Alcuin's letters are an important source on the history of the Carolingian society. At the Palace Academy, Alquin taught trivium and quadrivia elements; in his work On True Philosophy, he restored the scheme of the seven liberal arts, following Kassiodor’s parallel between the seven arts and the seven pillars of the temple of Wisdom of Solomon. He compiled textbooks on various subjects (some in a dialogical form). The Art of Grammar (lat. Ars grammatica) and the Slovene of the Most Noble Young Man Pipin with Albin Scholastic (Lat. Disputatio regalis et nobilissimi juvenis Pippini cum Albino scholastico) became very famous. Alcuin’s textbooks on dialectics, dogmatics, rhetoric, and liturgy are also known.

The purpose of the article is to study the creative aspects of the performance interpretation of the choral work “Lux Aurumque” by the modern American composer E. Whitacre in the perspective of comparative analysis of performance versions. The research methodology includes classical musicological methods – analytical, interpretive and comparative methods. The concept of the article was created in the process of developing the ideas of I. Polusmyak and K. Timofeyeva. The scientific novelty is based on the fact of virtualization of choral singing that has not become the subject of a separate scientific study yet. The overriding task of the study is to clarify the specifics of the communicative conditions for the coexistence of national and cultural traditions of American and Ukrainian choral cultures. The influence of the semantics of the poetic source and the peculiarities of the composer’s choral writing are considered. The ways and possibilities of choral performance in the synthesis of traditional conditions and tendencies of cultural communication of modern society in the global network Internet are investigated. The specifics of the communicative conditions of coexistence of national and cultural traditions of American and Ukrainian choral culture are clarified. Comparative methods in this study include the analysis of several performance varieties – Virtual Choir 1.0., singing of the choir Eric Whitacre Singers under the direction of the author and the performance of the Student Choir of Kharkiv I. P. Kotlyarevsky National University of Arts. In the process of studying the cognitive possibilities of comparative analysis of performing interpretations of the selected composition, common and different features dui to various physical conditions and vocal-technological approaches were revealed. Conclusions. Consideration of the features of performance drama in the process of creation virtual and real choral work versions has revealed that the selected performance versions can be divided into two types: correspondence (the first two author’s options) and adaptation (Student Choir). This topic provides a perspective area for further research and will have an exceptional scientific result in case of cooperation of specialists in several spheres – musicology, sound design, acoustics and sociology.

Abstract This article focuses on two aspects of Isaac Bashevis Singer’s life and work from 1923 to 1935. First, it outlines his early career in Warsaw, focusing on his essays and tracing his efforts to establish a literary career independent from that of his older brother, Israel Joshua. Second, it considers Singer’s emigration from Warsaw, with a focus on his brother’s efforts to get him out, as found in personal correspondence. Along the way, I expose gaps between Singer’s memoirs and details found in letters, especially relating to historical circumstances leading him to obtain a tourist visa to the United States in 1935. The article delineates a tension between Singer’s establishment of a position within Yiddish literature in Warsaw distinct from his brother’s, and the need to leave the city in order to survive, adding Israel Joshua’s own voice to the testimony from this period.

The arrival of St Augustine in England from Rome in 597 was an event of profound significance, for it marked the beginnings of relations between Rome and Canterbury. To later generations this came to mean relations between the papacy in its universal role, hence the throne of St Peter, and the metropolitical see of Canterbury and the cathedral priory of Christ Church, for the chair of St Augustine was the seat of both a metropolitan and an abbot. The archiepiscopal see and the cathedral priory were inextricably bound in a unique way.Relations with Rome had always been particularly close, both between the archbishops and the pope and between the convent and the pope. The cathedral church of Canterbury was dedicated to the Saviour (Christ Church) as was the papal cathedral of the Lateran. Gregory had sent the pallium to Augustine in sign of his metropolitan rank. There had been correspondence with Rome from the first. In Eadmer's account of the old Anglo-Saxon church, it was built in the Roman fashion, as Bede testifies, imitating the church of the blessed Peter, prince of the Apostles, in which the most sacred relics in the whole world are venerated. Even more precisely, the confessio of St Peter was copied at Canterbury. As Eadmer says, ‘From the choir of the singers one went up to the two altars (of Christ and of St Wilfrid) by some steps, since there was a crypt underneath, what the Romans call a confessio, built like the confessio of St Peter.’ (Eadmer had both visited Rome in 1099 and witnessed the fire that destroyed the old cathedral some thirty years before in 1067.) And there, in the confessio, Eadmer goes on to say, Alfege had put the head of St Swithun and there were many other relics. The confessio in St Peter's had been constructed by Pope Gregory the Great and contained the body of the prince of the Apostles and it was in a niche here that the pallia were put before the ceremony of the vesting, close to the body of St Peter. There may be, too, another influence from Rome and old St Peter's on the cathedral at Canterbury. The spiral columns in St Anselm's crypt at Canterbury, which survived the later fire of 1174, and are still standing, were possibly modelled on those that supported St Peter's shrine. These twisted columns were believed to have been brought to Rome from the Temple of Solomon. At the end of the sixth century, possibly due to Gregory the Great, they were arranged to form an iconostasis-like screen before the apostle's shrine. Pope Gregory III in the eighth century had added an outer screen of six similar columns, the present of the Byzantine Exarch, of which five still survive. They are practically the only relics of the old basilica to have been preserved in the new Renaissance St Peter's.

AbstractGiven a holomorphic Hilbertian bundle on a compact complex manifold, we introduce the notion of holomorphic L2 torsion, which lies in the determinant line of the twisted L2 Dolbeault cohomology and represents a volume element there. Here we utilise the theory of determinant lines of Hilbertian modules over finite von Neumann algebras as developed in [CFM]. This specialises to the Ray-Singer-Quillen holomorphic torsion in the finite dimensional case. We compute ametric variation formula for the holomorphic L2 torsion, which shows that it is not in general independent of the choice of Hermitian metrics on the complex manifold and on the holomorphic Hilbertian bundle, which are needed to define it. We therefore initiate the theory of correspondences of determinant lines, that enables us to define a relative holomorphic L2 torsion for a pair of flat Hilbertian bundles, which we prove is independent of the choice of Hermitian metrics on the complex manifold and on the flat Hilbertian bundles.

The epistolary heritage of Ivan Franko contains over six thousand letters. Germanepistolary correspondence addressed to Vienna, Berlin, Budapest, Heidelberg, Freiburg, Stanislav,Chernivtsi. The author of the article analyzes also the response letters sent to I. Franko. His firstletters in German were addressed to Olha Roshkevych. They were written under the strongimpression that the epistolary novel “The Sorrows of Young Werther” by J.W. von Goethe had hadon I. Franko. The Ukrainian writer’s correspondence with H. Kanner and I. Singer the editors of theweekly newspaper “Zeit” is an evidence of their close cooperation. I. Franko had close professionalties with V. Adler one of the founders and leaders of the Austrian social-democratic party, theeditor of Vienna newspaper “Arbeiterzeitung”, as well as with V. Adler’s wife Emma. I. Franko’scorrespondence with a prominent Slavic scholar V. Yagic didn’t contain only private mattersdiscussions. The third part of it is totally scientific which actually makes it valuable for researchers.I. Franko’s epistolary works reflect his artistic writer’s style neither in form nor in content. Hisletters are characterized by the depth of his thought, consistency of his statements, clearness of thesentence constructions, tendency to critical assessments of phenomena and scientific findings.

It is R. Penrose who constructed the twistor theory which gives a correspondence between complex space-times and 3-dimensional complex manifolds called twistor spaces. He and his colleagues investigated conformally invariant equations (e.g. massless field equations, self-dual Yang-Mills equations) on the space-time by transforming them into objects in complex analytical geometry. See e.g. Penrose-Ward [P-W] or Ward-Wells [W-W]. After that, Atiyah-Hitchin-Singer ([A-H-S], cf. [Fr]) constructed the twistor spaces corresponding to real 4-dimensional Riemannian manifolds. Their construction as well as that of Penrose is mainly effective under the condition of the self-duality. In this paper we will construct twistor spaces more geometrically from real 4-dimensional Lorentzian manifolds under a suitable curvature condition.

Russian Army and Border guard Colonel Fyodor Fyodorovich Tyutchev (1860–1916), a well – known chronicler of the Russian army and the border guard, served in the Russo-Japanese War of 1904–1905.The purpose of the publication is a comprehensive description of the stay in the Russo-Japanese War of 1904– 1905. The work used sources that had not been previously introduced into scientific circulation, which allowed analyzing the formation of F. F. Tyutchev as a military professional, as well as concretizing the literary and aesthetic concept of the writer. Russian-Japanese War correspondent F. F. Tyutchev, being a correspondent of the newspaper Novoe Vremya, promptly transmitted “hot” information about the affairs of the Russian army to the editorial office. The writer collecting material for future literary works talked with the participants of the Japanese campaign, valuing the opportunity to have conversations not only with the lower ranks who were on the front line but also with the generals whose decisions the outcome of hostilities sometimes depended on. According to the works by Fyodor Fedorovich, we can judge not only the events that took place in the Far East but also analyze the writer’s civil and author’s position, investigate his philosophical beliefs on what is happening, clarify his thoughts, compare the assessments given to him from what he saw and experienced in the war. The presented article develops scientific ideas and traditions in the field of national historiography, generalizing and analyzing individual, previously unknown materials about the Russian-Japanese war and its participants. F. F. Tyutchev, being on the staff of the 1st Argun regiment not only participated in the fighting but also proved himself as a talented artist of the word, conveying the truth of the Japanese campaign in his writings, creating a portrait gallery of the personnel of the regiments of the Trans-Baikal Cossack army.

AbstractIn his television program Sing Along with Mitch (1961–1964), Mitch Miller employed the talents of African American singer Leslie Uggams in ways that explicitly countered the legacy of minstrelsy. Although the program can be criticized as reactionary on other grounds, the fact that Sing Along with Mitch presented older, white viewers with a nostalgic vision of American identity realized through collective song amplified the impact of Uggams's performances. The program was well-received by Black viewers, and suited the dominant integrationist philosophy of the early 1960s. However, surviving correspondence indicates that some viewers persisted in perceiving Uggams through a lens clouded by minstrel stereotypes. This article documents and analyzes the ways in which these viewers continued to see and hear Uggams as a minstrel performer despite her presentation as a consummate professional and fully integrated member of the Sing Along “family.”

Kirchhoff energy is a classical functional on the space of arclength-parameterized framed curves whose critical points approximate configurations of springy elastic rods. We introduce a generalized functional on the space of framed curves of arbitrary parameterization, which model rods with axial stretch or cross-sectional inflation. Our main result gives explicit parameterizations for all periodic critical framed curves for this generalized functional. The main technical tool is a correspondence between the moduli space of shape similarity classes of closed framed curves and an infinite-dimensional Grassmann manifold. The critical framed curves have surprisingly simple parameterizations, but they still exhibit interesting topological features. In particular, we show that for each critical energy level there is a one-parameter family of framed curves whose base curves pass through exactly two torus knot types, echoing a similar result of Ivey and Singer for classical Kirchhoff energy. In contrast to the classical theory, the generalized functional has knotted critical points which are not torus knots.

ABSTRACTWe often read about the castrato Senesino's arrogant, self-absorbed personality, especially in relation to Handel and his London years. Concerns about Senesino's difficult character spread in London even before his arrival in September 1720. That this preoccupied the singer is shown in his correspondence with Giuseppe Riva, which reveals that Senesino was also apprehensive about working with the composer. Evidence shows that Senesino sought to control his debut through the choice of and involvement in a production of the opera Arsace. The selection of a libretto that exploits a subject drawn from British history, the poetic and dramaturgical revisions made by Rolli to the original text from 1715, and the changes and additions to Orlandini's original score all brought Senesino to the fore. That Senesino's voice stood as a strong argument in his rhetorical strategy may not be surprising; the aria type that he chose and the avoidance of ostentatious ornamentation are unexpected, however, and may reveal a more subtle plan of self-fashioning.

Tichler proved (Tischler D. 1970 Topology 9 , 153–154. ( doi:10.1016/0040-9383(70)90037-6 )) that a manifold admitting a smooth non-vanishing and closed one-form fibres over a circle. More generally, a manifold admitting k -independent closed one-form fibres over a torus T k . In this article, we explain a version of this construction for manifolds with boundary using the techniques of b -calculus (Melrose R. 1993 The Atiyah Patodi Singer index theorem . Research Notes in Mathematics. Wellesley, MA: A. K. Peters; Guillemin V, Miranda E, Pires AR. 2014 Adv. Math. ( N. Y. ) 264 , 864–896. ( doi:10.1016/j.aim.2014.07.032 )). We explore new applications of this idea to fluid dynamics and more concretely in the study of stationary solutions of the Euler equations. In the study of Euler flows on manifolds, two dichotomic situations appear. For the first one, in which the Bernoulli function is not constant, we provide a new proof of Arnold's structure theorem and describe b -symplectic structures on some of the singular sets of the Bernoulli function. When the Bernoulli function is constant, a correspondence between contact structures with singularities (Miranda E, Oms C. 2018 Contact structures with singularities. https://arxiv.org/abs/1806.05638 ) and what we call b -Beltrami fields is established, thus mimicking the classical correspondence between Beltrami fields and contact structures (see for instance Etnyre J, Ghrist R. 2000 Trans. Am. Math. Soc. 352 , 5781–5794. ( doi:10.1090/S0002-9947-00-02651-9 )). These results provide a new technique to analyse the geometry of steady fluid flows on non-compact manifolds with cylindrical ends. This article is part of the theme issue ‘Topological and geometrical aspects of mass and vortex dynamics’.

Background. Turning to the original sources of Ukrainian musical culture, we should point out the greatest achievements that appear to be the folk-song tradition. The problem of authorship of musical folklore was not considered for well-known reasons: its decisive features are oral, anonymous, collective way of creation. If the phenomenon of authorship is present in various manifestations of musical creativity (composing, performing, directing, etc.) and works in various forms of musical art of the past and present, today the study of the role of the singer as a co-author in the contemporary representation of Ukrainian folk song has not yet become a subject of a special scientific interest. The stated problem opens the prospect of developing the interpretation science as a science of the phenomenology of the artist’s creative personality in various artistic discourses. The urgency of the topic is to study the peculiarities of the representation of Ukrainian folk songs in the contemporary concert repertoire on the example of the activities of the iconic representatives of the national culture: Kvitka (Kacey) Cisyk, Nina Matvienko, and Taras Kompanichenko. Objectives. The purpose of the research is to substantiate the role of the singer as the co-author in representing the Ukrainian folk song in the contemporary concert and artistic space on examples of multi-genre patterns (folk song, song-romance, spiritual chants). Methods. The methodology of the research is based on the genre, structurally functional and interpretive scientific approaches. Results. In order to highlight the peculiarities of the representation of Ukrainian folk songs in the concert and artistic space of today, within the framework of the scientific article, let us dwell on the consideration of the following genres of folk song: folk song, song-romance, and chant. In the unique performance by Kvitka Cisyk (1953–1998) of the chosen folk song “Verse, my verse” the singer appears as the co-author of the song. As one knows, this folk song has no authorship (being an example of the collective folk-song tradition). The level of co-authorship of the singer can be defined as the one corresponding to the traditional performance (the performer as the author). Another example considered is G. Skovoroda’s “Every City Should Have Its Character and Rights” in two versions (N. Matvienko and T. Kompanichenko) and two genre dimensions. Thus, in the detailed analysis of the sample, it can be argued that in the performance of N. Matvienko it sounds like a song-romance, and T. Kompanichenko’s interpretation makes clearer its genre attribution as a spiritual chant (the ethical basis). The song-romance performed by N. Matvienko appears as a bright theatrical performance. The singer represents the song in an elegant manner, appealing to the style basics of the musical baroque. In the instrumental accompaniment of the Ensemble of Ancient Music of K. Chechenia (Konstantin Chechenia), the baroque sound-ideal of the court secular culture was embodied. N. Matvienko, as the co-author of this composition, refined the baroque sounding (the deep understanding of the verbal text by G. Skovoroda, organic in the embodiment of the aesthetic and musically-immanent principles of the baroque style). “Every City Should Have Its Character and Rights” performed by T. Kompanichenko is characterized by such features as: 1) the introvert nature of the expression as a notable feature of the kobza-lyre tradition; 2) the interpretation by the performer of the “Skovoroda” song as an example of the spiritual chant (the correspondence of the repertoire of the traditional singing); 3) the organic and indissoluble nature of the vocal and instrumental components (singing performance (spivogra) as an attributive quality of the kobza-lyre tradition). Conclusions. The role of K. Cisyk as the co-author of the folk song “Verse, my verse” is evidenced in the fact that the singer managed to reach the level of the standard of interpretation of Lemko folk song, as much as possible tending to perform the song without any change. The subtle feeling of Ukrainian melody with the introduction of the contemporary sound (the high artistic orchestral arrangements by J. Cortner) is stated as a manifestation of the national sound ideal (according to O. Bench). In N. Matvienko’s performing interpretation of the song-romance “Every City Should Have Its Character and Rights” in the framework of the modern concert stage (with the sound of timbres of unique Ukrainian baroque musical instruments), the national baroque style constants (the concept of “the world as a theatre”) became more visible. The performing interpretation by T. Kompanichenko is aimed at the completeness of the disclosure of the concept of the composition as an ideological and aesthetic orientation of the kobza-lyre tradition. Without violating its style basics, the singer, as the co-author of the composition performed, appears to be the driving force behind the enrichment and development of the established stylistic principles of the kobza-lyre tradition. The provided multi-genre samples performed by the iconic representatives of the national culture are based on the established tradition of folk song and express the integrity of the creative personality of the performers as bearers of the spiritual tradition of ethnic culture. The prospects for further research in this direction may be related to the study of the iconic phenomena of the performing music culture of Ukraine, which find an appeal in the socio-cultural and research space of today

This article examines Feodor Chaliapin’s guest performances in Budapest. The famous singer visited Hungary altogether eight times over ten years, playing the roles of Mephisto (Faust), Basilio (The Barber of Seville), and Don Quixote in the opera, as well as giving individual concerts. His performances were considered the most outstanding events during the opera and theatre season, taking place before full houses, the boxes being filled with representatives of the Hungarian elite, political actors, businessmen, writers, and actors. The Hungarian press followed Сhaliapin everywhere, correspondents tried to inform readers about each and every moment of his stay in Hungary, and he obliged journalists — that problematic group — with great patience and professionalism by never declining an interview. Prestigious critics and musicologists (including Aladár Tóth, Emil Haraszti, and Dezső Szomory) wrote laudatory commentaries on Сhaliapin’s performances on the pages of Hungarian journals and newspapers. They all praised his talent, creative power, amazing bass, and charm as well as his ability to win the hearts of the audience from the very first moment. Hungarian people regarded Сhaliapin not only as the king of the opera, but also as the embodiment of Russia and Russian culture. Сhaliapin used his tournees to Budapest to get acquainted with the Hungarian capital; he visited the most famous sights of the city (he especially loved walking on the banks of the Danube) and he enjoyed spending his time eating out in restaurants and bars while listening to Hungarian gypsy music. Journal articles enable us to reconstruct this somewhat forgotten episode in Russian-Hungarian cultural relations.

In August of 1846, Margaret Fuller – one of the most influential feminist intellectuals in American history – sailed from New York City to Europe prepared to continue her work as the lead columnist for theNew-York Tribune. As it was planned by Fuller and Horace Greeley – theTribune'seditor – while abroad, Fuller would work as an international correspondent and send to theTribuneletters of her travels that recorded her thoughts about Europe, which she did from late 1846 until late 1849, with her final piece appearing in the 6 January 1850 edition of the paper. In ‘Letter No. XI’ (1847) of Fuller's more than 30 European dispatches to theTribune, she recounted for her readers several of the operas that she attended while in Paris. After first reviewingRobert le Diable, Guillaume Tell, L'Elisire d'Amore and Semiramidein this 31 March letter, Fuller turned her attention to a performance of Mozart'sDon Giovanni. Fuller assessedDon Giovannidifferently from the other operas in her letter. Rather than highlight the merits of the singers or staging, she prefaced her review with an account of her decision to take ether in an attempt to alleviate the pain she had been suffering as a result of toothache. In some depth, Fuller described the pleasurable sensations that she had experienced because of the ether. As she noted, however, the treatment had not stopped her discomfort. This troubled her on more than one level. For one, she was in acute pain; but Fuller was also worried that her suffering might make it difficult for her to sit through the entirety ofDon Giovanni. Fuller had long wanted to attend this opera, so despite her concern she went. Her choice to go would delight her, for as Fuller wrote in her letter, onceDon Giovannibegan, ‘the music soothed the nerves’ of her toothache ‘at once’. But even more wonderful than this, she explained, was that, after hearing Mozart's music, the pain from her toothache ‘left [her] from that time’ on.

В статье рассматриваются песни Полины Виардо, имеющие несколько вариантов текста на разных языках; определяется роль, которую сыграл Иван Тургенев в композиторском творчестве певицы, а также обосновывается гипотеза о влиянии музыки Виардо на выполненные для нее Тургеневым поэтические переводы. В качестве необходимого контекста излагается информация о художественном кружке, сложившемся в Баден-Бадене в 1860-е годы вокруг семьи Виардо и Тургенева, а также об изданиях песен Виардо в России, Германии и Франции. Специфические требования Тургенева к переводу текстов песен выясняются путем анализа его переписки с Фридрихом фон Боденштедтом. Заключительный раздел статьи содержит подробный разбор взаимодействия музыки и слова в двух песнях Виардо: «Синица» на стихи Тургенева и «In der FrChe» на стихи Эдуарда Мёрике («На заре» в переводе Тургенева). Как показывает автор статьи, Виардо удалось тонкими музыкальными приемами подчеркнуть экзистенциальные глубины стихотворения Тургенева, оставшиеся без внимания его переводчиков на немецкий и французский языки. В то же время Тургенев, переводя миниатюрный шедевр Мёрике, не просто вдохновлялся музыкой Виардо, но принял под впечатлением от нее важные художественные решения, которые помогли ему эксплицировать христианские смыслы, заложенные немецким поэтом, и создать конгениальное оригиналу произведение. The article examines the songs by Pauline Viardot, which have several versions in different languages, determines the role Ivan Turgenev played in the musical compositions by the singer, and substantiates the hypothesis of the influence of Viardot's music on the poetic translations made for her by Turgenev. As a necessary context, the information is provided about the artistic circle that developed in Baden-Baden in the 1860s around the Viardot family and Turgenev, as well as about the publications of Viardot's songs in Russia, Germany and France. Turgenev's specific requirements for the translation of song lyrics are clarified by analysing his correspondence with Friedrich von Bodenstedt. The final section of the article contains a detailed analysis of the interaction of music and poetry in two songs by Viardot: “The Tit” (“Sinitsa,” in Turgenev's text) and “In der Frühe” by Eduard Mörike (“Na zare,” in Turgenev's translation). As shown by the author, Viardot succeeded in using subtle musical devices to emphasize the existential depths of Turgenev's poem, which were ignored by its translators in German and French. At the same time, when translating Mörike's miniature masterpiece, Turgenev was not only inspired by Viardot's music, but under its influence, he made important artistic decisions that helped him explicate the Christian dimension of the original and create a congenial work.

A special correspondent for the leading Egyptian newspaper al-Ahram wrote from Alexandria on 28 May 1936: “One of the effects of the Al-Bosfur nightclub murder in Cairo is that its circumstances have led to an interest in the problem of ‘al-futuwwat’ [sing., al-futuwwa] and how much power and influence (al-sat˙wa) they have in the capital and in other Egyptian cities.” The murder referred to was that of a popular singer and dancer, Imtithal Fawzi, by a band of assassins led by failed businessman and weight-trainer Fuad al-Shami. I argue here that this murder can be read as an instance of a larger event, which might be inscribed in the following way: a moment that irrevocably branded the public figure of futuwwa with the additional meanings of thug, mobster, and nefarious villain—bal ˙tagi. This is not the conventional way of registering this moment; indeed, the modern transformation of al-futuwwa is rarely considered as a historical event. It is not my aim here to affirm or deny the outcome of this transformation, nor am I suggesting that the normative conception of al-futuwwa as an Islamic ideal of masculinity had never before had any negative connotations. Rather, I posit—and want to interrogate—a changed historical relationship in the constitution of al-futuwwa, in which the nature of history itself was radically transformed and contributed to the formation of a new politics and a new subject of politics. As part of the hegemonic rise of this field of politics and its subject, history typically shows, or simply presumes, that other life-worlds, like that of the futuwwat and their particular form of power, were rendered exceptional and ultimately obsolete. In a larger project from which this article is drawn, I explored the gendered constitution of that new cultural and political hegemony. I labeled the gender norm that emerged at the intersection of colonial modernity and nationalism as effendi (bourgeois) masculinity, which I located in a new constellation of practices and discourses around the desirable, modern body. The present essay is in part an effort to de-center this bourgeois figure and the terms of its narration, which I unwittingly reproduced in the original study by rendering the event of the futuwwa's transformation as a bit part within a larger story of ostensibly greater national and historical import.

Formulation of the problem. The opera “Siberia” by U. Giordano is one of the most interesting in his creative work. The composer is considered to be a bright representative of the verismo (“Mala Vita”, “Marina”, “Andrea Chenier”, “Theodora”); his later creativity is represented by comedies (in particular, “Madame Saint-Germaine”), the opera-novella (“The King»”), and the opera of the mature period called “Siberia” reflects the boundary tendencies. The main characters (Stephana, Gleby, her pimp, and Vassili, an officer who is in love with Stephana) also appear as ambiguous characters. The action is reinforced not only by the love triangle, but also by the unfolding of the tragedy of two people on the background of the tragedies of many (the scenes of the deporting of the convicts and the penal settlement) and against the background of the Easter holiday (by contrast). After the premiere the opera was performed in many theatres, that why it is interesting to consider the variants of its interpretation, in particular, in the Italian stage versions, and a look at this opera not only from the historical point of view, but also in the context of the Italian tradition and performing reception during its stage life. The purpose of the research is to present a comparative analysis of the interpretation of the image of Vassili from the opera “Siberia” by U. Giordano for the identification of its constant and mobile features, in the context of the author’s thought and the contemporary tendencies of performing art. Analysis of recent publications on the topic of the article. U. Giordano’s creative work is presented systematically in the study of M. Morini (1968), where he collected articles not only written by himself, but also by other researchers of the composer’s creative work. We have used the correspondence by the composer with his librettist L. Illika and the critical reviews (by A. Beloni, G. Cesari, A. Bruno, and R. Carugati) on the first performances of the opera in Italy and Paris. However, the analysis of the performance the opera material by U. Giordano is almost absent. The results of the study. While writing the opera, U. Giordano significantly reduced the libretto, changed the final and strengthened the volitional features of the character of Vassili. He longed for a “powerful explosion” from his hero in Act 3 (when he fallen in jealousy of Stephana), and, in general – drama, passion and emotionality. These features should be reflected in the staging. We have presented the comparative analysis of the Vassili’s image scenic embodiment in two Italian settings in Milan performed by Amedeo Zambon (1974) and Viacheslav Lesik (2014). The comparison has led to the following conclusions. A. Zambon is highly skilled in the vocal technique, has a clean, crystal timbre of the voice, in which the high frequencies prevails; his voice is perceived by the listener as light, flexible and full of optimism. The important feature of his performing is the rhythmic freedom. So, in the themes related to lyrics, feelings of love, the soloist holds the musical sounds longer than it is indicated in the composer text. In the themes associated with doom, drama, on the contrary, he reduces the duration of the notes. With equal lengths of notes, the soloist often makes a dotted line, and if a dotted line already wrote by composer, he further exacerbates, emphasizes it. In emotional episodes, the singer uses marcato accents and agogical deviations in almost every sound of the phrase, thus emphasizing the most sensitive states of the human soul. Therefore, the “theme of death” (Act 2) perceives in a special way, when the voice of the singer sounds here almost without a dynamic expression and in a rigidly rhythmic way, with an emphasis on each of notes. V. Lesik’s voice sounds more forced, has a vibrato with wide amplitude, the resounding “juicy” timbre, saturated with a wide spectrum of overtones. Compared with the performance by A. Zambon, the party of this soloist contains less the moments of overt emotional expression; he sings all of the phrases rhythmically and with a large “drag”, breadth. There are never changes in the rhythmic patterns, the soloist performs all the eighth and quaternary notes as it is provided by the composer and is indicated in the musical text. Strict observance of the instructions in the musical text is one of the characteristic features of V. Lesik’s performance. For example, he sings “the theme of love” from the First Act without the emphasizing of the three first notes, performing the half-lengths without delays, and on the rises to high notes almost does not make fermatas. The latter is, in our opinion, a rare phenomenon, since the vocal operatic tradition has developed in such a way that the soloists should be to demonstrate their skills and make a stop on the extreme notes of the range, giving the audience a chance to get the pleasure from this technical method. Conclusions. So, let us summarize. According to the traditions of verismo, the constant features of the interpretation of opera hero image are the loftiness of expression and high level of emotionality related to the great force of a voice and the virtuoso vocal technique. The distinctive (mobile) features of interpretation are, in one hand, the rhythmic freedom, free attitude to the text, vocalization of the recitatives, flexible phrase splitting (A. Zambon); in other hand, more disciplined, accurate observance of musical text with a smaller spectrum of tempo-dynamic varieties, gradations and the great importance of pauses (V. Lesik). As a result, there is the impression of greater youth and sensuality of the embodied character (A. Zambon) and his greater experience, equableness of mind, courage, in general, more vital reality of the personage (V. Lesik). The prospect of further study of the topic is associated with a steady interest in the late operas by U. Giordano, in particular – to the opera “Siberia”, due to that its performing analysis actualizes. The experience of comparing the performers with different cultures of singing, as well as the aspect of interaction the opera traditions and contemporary performing traits may be of interest. In general, owing to the performing interpretation, the meaningful senses of this most interesting opera from the creative work by U. Giordano deepen essentially.

Background. The modern practice of teaching and training the specialists of higher education, in particular, choral performance specialists, introduces new requirements to the content of education and organization of the educational process, emphasizing the importance and necessity of using the independent work of students in nowadays conditions. In this connection, there is a need to determine the directions of the independent work of students and to systematize this type of work in the educational process. Objectives. The purpose of the article is to define and theoretically substantiate all aspects of the independent work of students in the process of the vocal education for the further formation of their professional skills. Methods. To solve this task, the following methods were used: studying the state of the problem in the practice of the present (analysis of curricula content and educational and methodical literature); the analysis of academic progress and performing activity of the vocal students; the research and generalization of pedagogical experience. Results. In the vocal training, the independent work of students involves organizing their educational activities both during practice in the classroom and in the process of working outside the classroom in such a way as to get the intended result. Planning the independent work on solo singing allows finding the concrete ways of the development of vocal skills and criteria for evaluation in the professional training of a specialist. The essence of organization of the independent work of students in the process of learning singing is concluded in the creation and implementation of a specific system of tasks, which takes in account general didactic principles and the interdisciplinary interactions arising in the educational process in the formation of vocal abilities and skills. The planning of this work is carried out on the basis of both the focused activity of the teacher, who poses the necessary tasks and controls the results of their implementation, as well as the organization of the student’s own extra-curricular work, containing moments of introspection and self-assessment of the achieved results. So, the organization of the independent work of students in the process of singing education should be carried out necessarily taking into account the person-oriented approach. The independent work on solo singing is considered as a specific form of the educational activity of the student and is characterized by a number of the following psychological and pedagogical peculiarities. First, it is a continuation and extension of the vocal-performing activity in classroom organized expediently by the teacher, which stimulates students to the further professional work in the lessons-free time. In this case, the educational and cognitive activity of the student during his/her individual classes is called to act as a kind of the algorithm for the independent work on the preparation of the vocal concert program. Secondly, the student’s independent work on solo singing should be understood by him/her as a chosen and internally motivated activity, which includes: a) the awareness of the goals of his/her activities; b) the adoption or setting of a vocal-performing or vocal-methodical task; c) the self-organization in the distribution of the educational load in time; d) the adjustment of own work on the basis of self-control and self-esteem. Thirdly, the students’ independent work on solo singing should be a highly organized form of the educational activity, and the methods of its execution should be conditioned by the level of development a number of student’s personal qualities. These include: self-regulation, which involves a certain level of the self-awareness; an adequate self-esteem; active thinking; independence; time management skills; purposefulness; the complex of will qualities, as well as the so-called substantive self-regulation. An important indicator of the formation of the student’s substantive self-regulation is the availability of skills related to the definition of the goal and the final results of the proposed tasks. In determining the tasks for the independent work of students, it is necessary to cover several aspects: the complexity on theoretical and practical levels; the necessity to include tasks with increasing complexity, as well as use of interdisciplinary connections. The tasks for self-mastering of material should adhere to the following principles: 1) the principle of minimizing the level of the complexity and amount of scientific information, vocal exercises and compositions; 2) the principle of coherence of the content of the educational material for the independent work with the previously presented scientific information, studied vocal material during individual classes; the reflection in the content of essential information on the topic being studied, interdisciplinary connections, stylistic diversity of the vocal music; 3) the principle of the correspondence of the volume and the complexity of the selected vocal material to the real possibilities and individual characteristics of the students and to the time interval allocated in accordance with the curriculum; 4) the principle of the content-technological continuity between the forms and methods of independent study of the material by the students, the self-examination of vocal knowledge, skills and abilities. Also, the article deals with: a) the ways of organizing the independent work of students on solo singing; b) the plan of the independent work on a vocal composition; and c) the conditions for the effectiveness of the students’ independent work. Conclusion. So, the independent work on solo singing is considered as a specific form of the educational work of the student and is characterized as an activity that is purposeful, internally motivated, structured and adjusted by the student himself/herself. Its implementation involves a sufficient level of self-awareness, self-discipline, personal responsibility, and creativity of the learner, which allows one to consider the independent activities of students as a process of self-improvement and self-knowledge. Independent work is a necessary component of the vocational training of the singer and a specific form of his educational activity, which is characterized by certain psychological and pedagogical features, namely: - it organically complements and continues the vocal and performing activity during the individual lessons in the classroom, contributing to the unveiling of the student’s creative potential and its formation as a thinking artistic personality; - independent work should be perceived by a student as a chosen and internally motivated activity, since the development of the motivational sphere stimulates the growth of his professional interest in vocal performance and nurtures his/her ability to develop strategies for forming a system of vocal skills, hence, the strategies of success.

Abstract We study the large N sign oscillation of the twisted indices for 3D theories of class ℛ obtained from M5-branes wrapped on a hyperbolic 3-manifold. Holographically, the oscillatory behavior can be understood from the imaginary part of on-shell actions for the two Euclidean supergravity solutions, Bolt± with p = 0, which are Wick rotation of magnetically charged AdS4 black holes. The two solutions have the same imaginary part with opposite sign. The imaginary part comes from the F ∧ F-term in the supergravity and the coefficient is proportional to the Chern-Simons invariant of 3-manifold. Combining the holographic computation with 3D-3D relation for twisted indices, we propose a non-trivial mathematical conjecture regarding the phase factor of a twisted Reidemeister-Ray-Singer torsion on hyperbolic 3-manifold.

Abstract When Ugandan singer Geoffrey Oryema died in France in 2018 after forty-one years in exile, his wish was to be cremated, repatriated to Uganda, and dispersed on the wind. His wish implied improper burial and ignited a controversy due to varied meanings of the bush. The bush is a keyword with a painful past. Oryema’s experience and Acholi concepts of the bush suggest the bush is partly a discourse, inherited from one generation to the next, about the shifting space between home and wild. For this analysis, Lagace draws on songs, social media, Ugandan and French press, archives, scholarship, and correspondence with Ugandans.

Cecil Arthur Hoare was born on 6 March 1892 of a British father, Arthur Stowell Hoare, of Middlesex, and a Russian-born mother, Aimée Challet of Vitebsk (Bielorussia). Arthur Hoare was a journalist, working as a foreign correspondent first in Holland and then in France. Aimée was a professional singer, who graduated from the Kiev Conservatoire and later travelled widely in Europe with various operatic companies. Cecil’s parents met and married in France, and later moved to Holland where they lived until 1898; they separated when Cecil was 6 years of age. On the paternal side the Hoares were mainly business people connected with banking; on the maternal side the relations belonged to the Russian intelligentsia: lawyers, doctors and engineers.

Nine Inch Nails have just released a new single; In addition to the usual formats, “The Hand That Feeds” was available for free download in Garageband format. Trent Reznor explained, “For quite some time I’ve been interested in the idea of allowing you the ability to tinker around with my tracks – to create remixes, experiment, embellish or destroy what’s there” (MacMinute 15 April 2005). Reznor invites creativity facilitated by copying and transformation. “Copy” carries connotations of unsavoury notions such as piracy, stealing, fake, and plagiarism. Conversely, in some circumstances copying is acceptable, some situations demand copying. This article examines the treatment of “copy” at the intersection of musical creativity and copyright law with regard to cover versions and sampling. Waldron reminds us that copyright was devised first and foremost with a public benefit in mind (851). This fundamental has been persistently reiterated (H. R Rep. (1909); Sen. Rep. (1909); H. R. Rep. (1988); Patterson & Lindberg 70). The law grants creators a bundle of rights in copyrighted works. Two rights implicated in recorded music are located in the composition and the recording. Many potential uses of copyrighted songs require a license. The Copyright Act 1976, s. 115 provides a compulsory licence for cover versions. In other words, any song can be covered for a statutory royalty fee. The law curtails the extent of the copyright monopoly. Compulsory licensing serves both creative and business sides of the recording industry. First, it ensures creative diversity. Musicians are free to reinterpret cultural soundtracks. Second, it safeguards the composer’s right to generate an income from his work by securing royalties for subsequent usage. Although s. 115 permits a certain degree of artistic licence, it requires “the arrangement shall not change the basic melody or fundamental character of the work”. Notwithstanding this proviso, songs can still be transformed and their meaning reshaped. Johnny Cash was able to provide an insight into the mind of a dying man through covering such songs as Nine Inch Nails’ “Hurt”, Depeche Mode’s “Personal Jesus” and Parker & Charles’ “We’ll Meet Again”. Compulsory licensing was introduced in response to a Supreme Court decision that deprived composers of royalties. Congress recognised: The main object to be desired in expanding copyright protection accorded to music has been to give to the composer an adequate return for the value of his composition, and it has been a serious and difficult task to combine the protection of the composer with the protection of the public, and to so frame an act that it would accomplish the double purpose of securing to the composer and at the same time prevent the formation of oppressive monopolies, which might be founded upon the very rights granted to the composer for the purpose of protecting his interests (H. R. Rep. (1909)). Composers exercise rights over the initial exploitation of a song. Once a recording is released, the right is curtailed to serve the public dimension of copyright. A sampler is a device that allows recorded (sampled) sounds to be triggered from a MIDI keyboard or sequencer. Samplers provide potent tools for transforming sounds – filters, pitch-shifting, time-stretching and effects can warp samples beyond recognition. Sampling is a practice that formed the backbone of rap and hip-hop, features heavily in many forms of electronic music, and has proved invaluable in many studio productions (Rose 73-80; Prendergast 383-84, 415-16, 433-34). Samples implicate both of the musical copyrights mentioned earlier. To legally use a sample, the rights in the recording and the underlying composition must be licensed. Ostensibly, acquiring permission to use the composition poses few obstacles due to the compulsory licence. The sound recording, however, is a different matter entirely. There is no compulsory licence for sound recordings. Copyright owners (usually record labels) are free to demand whatever fees they see fit. For example, SST charged Fatboy Slim $1000 for sampling a Negativland record (Negativland). (Ironically, the sample was itself an unlicensed sample appropriated from a 1966 religious recording.) The price paid by The Verve for sampling an obscure orchestral version of a Rolling Stones song was more substantial. Allan Klein owns the copyright in “The Last Time” released by The Andrew Oldham Orchestra in 1965 (American Hit Network, undated). Licence negotiations for the sample left Klein with 100% of the royalties from the song and The Verve with a bitter taste. To add insult to injury, “Bittersweet Symphony” was attributed to Mick Jagger and Keith Richards when the song was nominated for a Grammy (Superswell, undated). License fees can prove prohibitive to many musicians and may outweigh the artistic merit in using the sample: “Sony wanted five thousand dollars for the Clash sample, which … is one thousand dollars a word. In retrospect, this was a bargain, given the skyrocketing costs of sampling throughout the 1990s” (McLeod 86). Adam Dorn, alias Mocean Worker, tried for nine months to licence a sample of gospel singer Mahalia Jackson. Eventually his persistent requests were met with a demand for $10,000 in advance with royalties of six cents per record. Dorn was working with an album budget of a mere $40 and was expecting to sell 2500 copies (Beaujon 25). Unregulated licensing fees stifle creativity and create a de facto monopoly over recorded music. Although copyright was designed to be an engine of free expression1 it still carries characteristics of its monopolistic, totalitarian heritage. The decision in Bridgeport Music v. Dimension Films supported this monopoly. Judge Guy ruled, “Get a license or do not sample. We do not see this stifling creativity in any significant way” (397). The lack of compulsory licensing and the Bridgeport decision creates an untenable situation for sampling musicians and adversely impacts upon the public benefit derived from creative diversity and transformative works (Netanel 288, 331). The sobering potential for lawsuits, ruinous legal costs, injunctions, damages (to copyright owners as well as master recordings), suppresses the creativity of musicians unwilling or unable to pay licence fees (Negativland 251.). I’m a big fan of David Bowie. If I wanted to release a cover version of “Survive”, Bowie and Gabrels (composers) and BMI (publishers) could not prevent it. According the Harry Fox Agency’s online licensing system, it would cost $222.50 (US) for a licence to produce 2500 copies. The compulsory licence demands fidelity to the character of the original. Although my own individual style would be embedded in the cover version, the potential for transformation is limited. Whilst trawling through results from a search for “acapella” on the Soulseek network I found an MP3 of the vocal acapella for “Survive”. Thirty minutes later Bowie was loaded into Sonar 4 and accompanied by a drum loop and bass line whilst I jammed along on guitar and tinkered with synths. Free access to music encourages creative diversity and active cultural participation. Licensing fees, however, may prohibit such creative explorations. Sampling technology offers some truly innovative possibilities for transforming recorded sound. The Roland VariOS can pitch-eliminate; a vocal sample can be reproduced to a melody played by the sampling musician. Although the original singer’s voice is preserved the melody and characteristic nuances can be significantly altered: V-Producer’s Phrase Scope [a system software component] separates the melody from the rest of the phrase, allowing users to re-construct a new melody or add harmonies graphically, or by playing in notes from a MIDI keyboard. Using Phrase Scope, you can take an existing vocal phrase or melodic instrument phrase and change the actual notes, phrasing and vocal gender without unwanted artefacts. Bowie’s original vocal could be aligned with an original melody and set to an original composition. The original would be completely transformed into a new creative work. Unfortunately, EMI is the parent company for Virgin Records, the copyright owner of “Survive”. It is doubtful licence fees could be accommodated by many inspired bedroom producers. EMI’s reaction to DJ Dangermouse’s “Grey Album“ suggests that it would not look upon unlicensed sampling with any favour. Threatening letters from lawyers representing one of the “Big Four” are enough to subjugate most small time producers. Fair use? If a musician is unable to afford a licence, it is unlikely he can afford a fair use defence. Musicians planning only a limited run, underground release may be forgiven for assuming that the “Big Four” have better things to do than trawl through bins of White Labels for unlicensed samples. Professional bootlegger Richard X found otherwise when his history of unlicensed sampling caught up to him: “A certain major label won’t let me use any samples I ask them to. We just got a report back from them saying, ‘Due to Richard’s earlier work of which we are well aware, we will not be assisting him with any future projects’” (Petridis). For record labels “copy” equals “money”. Allan Klein did very well out of licensing his newly acquired “Bittersweet Symphony” to Nike (Superswell). Inability to afford either licences or legal costs means that some innovative and novel creations will never leave the bedroom. Sampling masterpieces such as “It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back” are no longer cost effective (McLeod). The absence of a compulsory licence for sampling permits a de facto monopoly over recorded music. Tricia Rose notes the recording industry knows the value of “copy” (90). “Copy” is permissible as long as musicians pay for the privilege – if the resultant market for the sampling song is not highly profitable labels may decline to negotiate a licence. Some parties have recognised the value of the desire to creatively engage with music. UK (dis)band(ed) Curve posted component samples of their song “Unreadable Communication” on their website and invited fans to create their own versions of the song. All submissions were listed on the website. Although the band reserved copyright, they permitted me to upload my version to my online distribution website for free download. It has been downloaded 113 times and streamed a further 112 times over the last couple of months. The remix project has a reciprocal dimension: Creative engagement strengthens the fan base. Guitarist/programmer, Dean Garcia, states “the main reason for posting the samples is for others to experiment with something they love . . . an opportunity as you say to mess around with something you otherwise would never have access to2”. Umixit is testing the market for remixable songs. Although the company has only five bands on its roster (the most notable being Aerosmith), it will be interesting to observe the development of a market for “neutered sampling” and how long it will be before the majors claim a stake. The would-be descendants of Grand Master Flash and Afrika Bambaataa may find themselves bound by end-user licences and contracts. The notion of “copy” at the nexus of creativity and copyright law is simultaneously a vehicle for free expression and a vulgar infringement on a valuable economic interest. The compulsory licence for cover versions encourages musicians to rework existing music, uncover hidden meaning, challenge the boundaries of genre, and actively participate in culture creation. Lack of affirmative congressional or judicial interference in the current sampling regime places the beneficial aspects of “copy” under an oppressive monopoly founded on copyright, an engine of free expression. References American Hit Network. “Bittersweet Symphony – The Verve.” Undated. 17 April 2005 http://www.americanhitnetwork.com/1990/fsongs.cfm?id=8&view=detail&rank=1>. Beaujon, A. “It’s Not The Beat, It’s the Mocean.’ CMJ New Music Monthly, April 1999. EMI. “EMI and Orange Announce New Music Deal.” Immediate Future: PR & Communications, 6 January 2005. 17 April 2005 http://www.immediatefuture.co.uk/359>. H. R. Rep. No. 2222. 60th Cong., 2nd Sess. 7. 1909. H. R. Rep. No. 609. 100th Cong., 2nd Sess. 23. 1988. MacMinute. “NIN Offers New Single in GarageBand Format.” 15 April 2005. 16 April 2005 http://www.macminute.com/2005/04/15/nin/>. McLeod, K. “How Copyright Law Changed Hip Hop: An Interview with Public Enemy’s Chuck D and Hank Shocklee.” Stay Free 2002, 23 June 2004 http://www.stayfreemagazine.org/archives/20/public_enemy.html>. McLeod, K. Freedom of Expression: Overzealous Copyright Bozos and Other Enemies of Creativity. United States: Doubleday Books, 2005. Negativland. “Discography.” Undated. 18 April 2005 http://www.negativland.com/negdisco.html>. Negativland (ed.). Fair Use: The Story of the Letter U and the Numeral 2. Concord: Seeland, 2005. Netanel, N. W. “Copyright and a Democratic Civil Society.” 106 Yale L. J. 283. 1996. Patterson, L.R., and S. Lindberg. The Nature of Copyright: A Law of Users’ Rights. Georgia: U of Georgia P, 1991. Petridis, A. “Pop Will Eat Itself.” The Guardian (UK) 2003. 22 June 2004 http://www.guardian.co.uk/arts/critic/feature/0,1169,922797,00.html>. Prendergast, M. The Ambient Century: From Mahler to Moby – The Evolution of Sound in the Electronic Age. London: Bloomsbury, 2003. Rose, T. Black Noise: Rap Music and Black Culture in Contemporary America. Middletown: Wesleyan UP, 2004. Sen. Rep. No. 1108, 60th Cong., 2nd Sess. 7. 1909. Superswell. “Horror Stories.” 17 April 2005 http://www.superswell.com/samplelaw/horror.html>. Waldron, J. “From Authors to Copiers: Individual Rights and Social Values in Intellectual Property.” 68 Chicago-Kent Law Review 842, 1998. Endnotes 1 Harper & Row, Publishers, Inc. v. Nation Enterprises 471 U.S. 539, 558 (1985). 2 From personal correspondence with Curve dated 16 September 2004. Citation reference for this article MLA Style Collins, Steve. "Good Copy, Bad Copy: Covers, Sampling and Copyright." M/C Journal 8.3 (2005). echo date('d M. Y'); ?> <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0507/02-collins.php>. APA Style Collins, S. (Jul. 2005) "Good Copy, Bad Copy: Covers, Sampling and Copyright," M/C Journal, 8(3). Retrieved echo date('d M. Y'); ?> from <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0507/02-collins.php>.

De nombreux anthropologues appréhendent la santé comme une « construction sociale » qui varie considérablement d’une société à une autre, d’une époque à une autre. Dans toutes les sociétés, les anthropologues constatent que le concept santé s’exprime en des termes et des mots variés généralement associés à la notion de « bien-être ». Chez les Tzeltal et Tzotzil Maya des hautes terres du Chiapas, le concept de santé s’exprime par les mots « vital warmth » (chaleur vitale) (Groark 2005). Chez les vieux Innus (Montagnais), la santé réfère à la qualité de vie tandis que chez les Inuits, la santé serait conçue comme un ordre harmonieux dans lequel la personne est intégrée dans un environnement social, temporel, spirituel et non empirique (Therrien et Laugrand 2001). Et si cette notion de qualité de vie/santé varie d’un peuple à l’autre, elle fluctue également d’une classe ou d’un groupe social à un autre. Les anthropologues du début du XXe siècle ne parlaient pas d’ethnomédecine et encore moins d’anthropologie médicale, d’anthropologie de la santé ou d’anthropologie de la maladie, mais plutôt, de médecine primitive, archaïque ou traditionnelle. Presque toutes les monographies ethnologiques anciennes proposent des sections portant sur la maladie, les médecines indigènes ou les pratiques et croyances médicales. Dès le XVIIIe siècle, le missionnaire jésuite, Joseph-François Lafitau, qualifié par William N. Fenton et Elizabeth L. Moore de « premier éclat de lumière sur la route de l'anthropologie scientifique » (Fenton et Moore 1969) documenta, dans son œuvre Mœurs des sauvages américains comparées aux mœurs des premiers temps (Lafitau 1983), les pratiques médicales, les maladies ainsi que la santé des Iroquois. Au début du XXe siècle, les anthropologues décrivirent et analysèrent les us et coutumes de peuples vivants à l’écart de la modernité (Massé 1995). Les nombreuses monographies publiées à la suite de longs terrains contribuèrent aux développements de connaissances concernant les représentations sociales de la santé et de la maladie chez les praticiens et les peuples éloignés et isolés d’une modernité qui s’imposait tout autour de la planète. Constatant l’accroissement du nombre d’anthropologues travaillant au sein des structures médicales et sur des questions de santé et de maladie, Normand Scotch crée, au début des années 1960, le terme Medical anthropology (Scotch 1963 cité par Walter 1981). Peu à peu, cette nouvelle discipline se distingue à la fois aux niveaux théoriques et de l’application. Cherchant à comprendre les phénomènes de la santé/maladie dans différents contextes culturels, l’anthropologie médicale prend comme objet d’analyse les façons dont les acteurs sociaux reconnaissent et définissent leur santé, nomment les maladies, traitent leurs malades (Massé 1995). Les premiers travaux des anthropologues médicaux répondent surtout aux demandes d’une médecine qui cherche à comprendre comment la culture intervient dans l’avènement des maladies et comment contrer les résistances des populations aux entreprises déployées pour améliorer la santé depuis une perspective biomédicale. « Quand on fait appel à l’anthropologue dans une étude épidémiologique, c’est souvent afin qu’il trouve les bonnes formulations pour cerner les “facteurs culturels” qui influencent les pratiques sanitaires... » (Fassin 2001 :183). Rapidement, ce nouveau champ de l’anthropologie fait l’objet de critiques. Qualifiée de discipline bioculturelle, l’anthropologie médicale est critiquée en raison de ses thèmes de recherche dictés par la santé publique et de la domination des professionnels de la santé dans le dialogue avec les anthropologues impliqués dans les milieux de la santé. Byron Good (1994) estimait pour sa part que les travaux des anthropologues médicaux, dans les années 1950-1960, contribuèrent au développement d’une critique de la naïveté culturelle soutenant le regard porté par les instances de santé publique internationales sur le complexe santé/maladie. Toutefois, quelques chercheurs s’intéressent spécifiquement à la notion de santé en dehors de l’axe santé/maladie et proposent celui de santé/vie. Au début des années 1970, Alexander Alland formule une théorie anthropologique médico-écologique qui se base sur le principe de l’adaptation culturelle à l’environnement. Cette théorie postule que la santé résulte de l’adaptation biologique et culturelle d’un groupe d’individus dans un environnement donné. Un peu moins de dix années plus tard, McElroy et Towsend (1979) élaborent un cadre écologique qui affine cette première proposition. Pour McElroy et Towsend, la santé des individus et des collectivités résulte de l’équilibre établi entre les éléments biotiques, abiotiques et culturels d’un écosystème. Cette conception de la santé proposée par le courant écologique fera l’objet de nombreuses critiques du fait, entre autres, du nivèlement de la culture sur la nature qu’elle soutenait. Parallèlement aux courants écologique et bioculturaliste se développe une tendance phénoménologique (Laplante 2004). Délaissant les catégories objectives de la médecine, Kleinman (1980) et Good (1994) proposent d’appréhender la santé et la maladie sur les bases de l’expérience humaine. Tandis que Kleinman s’intéresse à la manière dont les gens expriment leur notion de la maladie à partir de leur expérience (Illness) qu’il articule autour de modèles explicatifs indissociables des systèmes culturels, Good s’intéresse aux réseaux sémantiques qui permettent à la personne de réorganiser en permanence son expérience en fonction du contexte et des circonstances. La maladie, et par extension la santé, ne correspondent plus à une chose en soi ou à sa représentation. L’une et l’autre résulteraient, plutôt, d’interactions qui permettent de synthétiser des significations multiples. D’autres anthropologues estimeront que la santé et la maladie sont des résultantes de l’histoire propre aux communautés humaines. Ces anthropologues proposent un recadrage radical de toute démarche visant à identifier les problèmes de santé et leurs dynamiques d’émergence dans une communauté humaine. Cette anthropologie considère d’emblée la communauté comme unité centrale d’analyse et s’intéresse « à la manière dont un contexte social et culturel informe les perceptions, valeurs et comportements des personnes » dans les dynamiques productrices de santé et de maladies. (Corin, Bibeau, Martin,et Laplante 1990 : 43). Dans ces contextes il reviendra aux anthropologues de participer à l’élaboration de politiques de santé adaptées aux diversités culturelles. Dès les années 1960, des anthropologues développent une critique de la médecine et de la santé internationale. Ils proposent de porter davantage attention aux conditions macrosociétales de production de la santé et de la maladie. En 1983, lors de la réunion annuelle de l’American Anthroplogical Association des anthropologues soulèvent l’importance pour l’anthropologie médicale de porter son attention sur les conditions sociales, économiques et politiques de production de la santé et de la maladie (Baer, Singer et Johnsen 1986). Pour ces anthropologues, la santé constitue un produit social et politique qui révèle l’incorporation de l’ordre social et des inégalités dans les corps (Fainzang 2005). Leurs recherches s’orienteront, du coup, autour de l’idée selon laquelle les inégalités sociales, les rouages du pouvoir et de l’exploitation, constituent les tout premiers facteurs de détermination de la santé et, par conséquent, de la maladie. La santé n’est plus ici considérée comme une réalité dérivée de définitions biologiques, médicales. Elle apparait comme une notion et un espace définis par les rapports entre le corps physique et le corps social. La santé ne correspond plus à la reconnaissance d’une norme physiologique, moyenne ou idéale. Elle est une construction culturelle qui ne peut être appréhendée que de manière relationnelle, comme un produit du monde social (Fassin 1996). Si les travaux des anthropologues ont davantage porté sur les phénomènes entourant la maladie et non sur ceux concernant la santé, ils ont toutefois largement contribué à la distinction analytique de la maladie dans ses dimensions médicales (disease), personnelles/expérientielles (illness), sociale(sickness) et, plus tard, en évoquant le concept de la souffrance sociale. Mais un constat s’impose. Les réflexions et recherches menées à l’endroit du concept de la santé par les sciences de la santé et les sciences sociales sont généralement moins développées que celles portant sur la notion de maladie. La perspective anthropologique impose d’appréhender le concept de santé comme un objet socialement et culturellement construit dans un espace-temps indissociable du global. Loin de se référer à une simple absence de pathologie, la santé se développe, se révèle dans le rapport entretenu par le sujet à lui-même et aux autres. Pour l’anthropologie, il y a d’abord l’intérêt à situer la santé dans l’expérience vécue d’un sujet en lien avec les autres. Acteur et créateur, il est également assujetti aux forces du contexte socioéconomique, politique et historique (Fainzang 2005). La santé se révèle ainsi comme une notion polysémique et un objet complexe qui se situe dans une trame d’interactions collectivement partagée du vivant avec son milieu s’incarnant dans les expériences singulières de l’être-au-monde (Massé 2010). Toutefois les propos de l’anthropologue Gilles Bibeau demeurent pertinents. « La santé continue d’être sous-conceptualisée et appréhendée de manière encore trop souvent inadéquate. […] Se pourrait-il que le surplus d’interventions de santé nous expédie hors du champ de la santé? » (Bibeau 2006 : 82, 84).

At the start of the twentieth century, many young Australian artists travelled abroad to expand their art education and to gain exposure to the modern art movements of Europe. Most of these artists were active members of artist associations such as the Victorian Artists Society or the New South Wales Society of Artists. Male artists from Victoria were generally also members of the Melbourne Savage Club, a club with a strong association with the arts.This paper investigates the dual function of the club, as a space where the artists felt “at home” in the familiar environment that the club offered whilst they were abroad and, at the same time, a meeting space where they could engage in a stimulating artistic environment and gain introductions to leading figures in the art world. For those artists who chose England, London’s arts clubs played a large role, for it was in these establishments that they discussed, exhibited, shared, and met with their English counterparts. The club environment in London would have a significant impact on male Australian artists, as it offered a space where they were integrated into the English art world, which enhanced their experience whilst abroad.Artists were seldom members of Australia’s early gentlemen’s clubs, however, in the late nineteenth century Melbourne, artists formed less formal social groupings with exotic names such as the Prehistoric Order of Cannibals, the Buonarotti Club, and the Ishmael Club (Mead). Melbourne artists congregated in these clubs until the Melbourne Savage Club, modelled on the London Savage Club (1857)—a club whose membership was restricted to practitioners in the performing and visual arts—opened its doors in 1894.The Melbourne Savage Club had its origins in the Metropolitan Music Club, established in the late 1880s by a group of professional and amateur musicians and music lovers. The club initially admitted musicians and people from the dramatic professions free-of-charge, however, author Randolph Bedford (1868–1941) and artist Alf Vincent (1874–1915) were not content to be treated on a different basis to the musicians and actors, and two months after Vincent joined the club, at a Special General Meeting, the club resolved to vary Rule 6, “to admit landscape or portrait painters and sculptors without entrance fee” (Melbourne Savage Club). At another Special General Meeting, a year later, the rule was altered to admit “recognised members of the musical, dramatic and artistic professions and sculptors without payment of entrance fee” (Melbourne Savage Club).This resulted in an immediate influx of prominent Victorian male artists (Williams) and the Melbourne Savage Club became their place of choice to gather and enjoy the fellowship the club offered and to share ideas in a convivial atmosphere. When the opportunity arose for them to travel to London in the early twentieth century, they met in London’s famous art clubs. Membership of the Melbourne Savage Club not only conferred rights to visit reciprocal clubs whilst in London, but also facilitated introductions to potential patrons. The London clubs were the venue of choice for visiting artists to meet their fellow artist expatriates and to share experiences and, importantly, to meet with their British counterparts, exhibit their works, and establish valuable contacts.The London Savage Club attracted many Australian expatriates. Not only is it the grandfather of London’s bohemian clubs but also it was the model for arts clubs the world over. Founded in 1857, the qualification for admission was (and still is) to be, “a working man in literature or art, and a good fellow” (Halliday vii). If a candidate met these requirements, he would be cordially received “come whence he may.” This was embodied in the club’s first rules which required applicants for membership to be from a restricted range of pursuits relating to the arts thought to be commensurate with its bohemian ideals, namely art, literature, drama, or music.The second London arts club that attracted expatriate Australian artists was the New English Arts Club, founded in 1886 by young English artists returning from studying art in Paris. Members of The New English Arts Club were influenced by the Impressionist style as opposed to the academic art shown at the Royal Academy. As a meeting place for Australia’s expatriate artists, the New English Arts Club had a particular influence, as it exposed them to significant early Modern artist members such as John Singer Sargent (1856–1925), Walter Sickert (1860–1942), William Orpen (1878–1931) and Augustus John (1878–1961) (Corbett and Perry; Thornton; Melbourne Savage Club).The third, and arguably the most popular with the expatriate Australian artists’ club, was the Chelsea Arts Club, a bohemian club formed in 1891 by local working artists looking for a place to go to “meet, talk, eat and drink” (Cross).Apart from the American-born founding member, James McNeill Whistler (1834–1903), amongst the biggest Chelsea names at the time of the influx of travelling young Australian artists were modernists Sir William Orpen, Augustus John, and John Sargent. The opportunity to mix with these leading British contemporary artists was irresistible to these antipodean artists (55).When Melbourne artist, Miles Evergood (1871–1939) arrived in London from America in 1910, he had been an active exhibiting member of the Salmagundi Club, a New York artists’ club. Almost immediately he joined the New English Arts Club and the Chelsea Arts Club. Hammer tells of him associating with “writer Israel Zangwill, sculptor Jacob Epstein, and anti-academic artists including Walter Sickert, Augustus John, John Lavery, John Singer Sargent and C.R.W. Nevison, who challenged art values in Britain at the beginning of the century” (Hammer 41).Arthur Streeton (1867–1943) used the Chelsea Arts Club as his postal address, as did many expatriate artists. The Melbourne Savage Club archives contain letters and greetings, with news from abroad, written from artist members back to their “Brother Savages” (Various).In late 1902, Streeton wrote to fellow artist and Savage Club member Tom Roberts (1856–1931) from London:I belong to the Chelsea Arts Club now, & meet the artists – MacKennel says it’s about the most artistic club (speaking in the real sense) in England. … They all seem to be here – McKennal, Longstaff, Mahony, Fullwood, Norman, Minns, Fox, Plataganet Tudor St. George Tucker, Quinn, Coates, Bunny, Alston, K, Sonny Pole, other minor lights and your old friend and admirer Smike – within 100 yards of here – there must be 30 different studios. (Streeton 94)Whilst some of the artists whom Streeton mentioned were studying at either the Royal Academy or the Slade School, it was the clubs like the Chelsea Arts Club where they were most likely to encounter fellow Australian artists. Tom Roberts was obviously attentive to Streeton’s enthusiastic account and, when he returned to London the following year to work on his commission for The Big Picture of the 1901 opening of the first Commonwealth Parliament, he soon joined. Roberts, through his expansive personality, became particularly active in London’s Australian expatriate artistic community and later became Vice-President of the Chelsea Arts Club. Along with Streeton and Roberts, other visiting Melbourne Savage Club artists joined the Chelsea Arts Club. They included, John Longstaff (1861–1941), James Quinn (1869–1951), George Coates (1869–1930), and Will Dyson (1880–1938), along with Sydney artists Henry Fullwood (1863–1930), George Lambert (1873–1930), and Will Ashton (1881–1963) (Croll 95). Smith describes the exodus to London and Paris: “It was the Chelsea Arts Club that the Heidelberg School established its last and least distinguished camp” (Smith, Smith and Heathcote 152).Streeton, who retained his Chelsea Arts Club membership when he returned for a while to Australia, wrote to Roberts in 1907, “I miss Chelsea & the Club-boys” (Streeton 107). In relation to Frederick McCubbin’s pending visit he wrote: “Prof McCubbin left here a week ago by German ‘Prinz Heinrich.’ … You’ll introduce him at the Chelsea Club and I hope they make him an Hon. Member, etc” (Streeton et al. 85). McCubbin wrote, after an evening at the Chelsea Arts Club, following a visit to the Royal Academy: “Tonight, I am dining with Australian artists in Soho, and shall be there to greet my old friends. How glad I am! Longstaff will be there, and Frank Stuart, Roberts, Fullwood, Pontin, Coates, Quinn, and Tucker’s brother, and many others from all around” (MacDonald, McCubbin and McCubbin 75). Impressed by the work of Turner he wrote to his wife Annie, following avisit to the Tate Gallery:I went yesterday with Fullwood and G. Coates and Tom Roberts for a ramble … to the Tate Gallery – a beautiful freestone building facing the river through a portico into the gallery where the lately found turners are exhibited – these are not like the greater number of pictures in the National Gallery – they represent his different periods, but are mostly in his latest style, when he had realised the quality of light (McCubbin).Clearly Turner’s paintings had a profound impression on him. In the same letter he wrote:they are mostly unfinished but they are divine – such dreams of colour – a dozen of them are like pearls … mist and cloud and sea and land, drenched in light … They glow with tender brilliancy that radiates from these canvases – how he loved the dazzling brilliancy of morning or evening – these gems with their opal colour – you feel how he gloried in these tender visions of light and air. He worked from darkness into light.The Chelsea Arts Club also served as a venue for artists to entertain and host distinguished visitors from home. These guests included; Melbourne Savage Club artist member Alf Vincent (Joske 112), National Gallery of Victoria (NGV) Trustee and popular patron of the arts, Professor Baldwin Spencer (1860–1929), Professor Frederick S. Delmer (1864–1931) and conductor George Marshall-Hall (1862–1915) (Mulvaney and Calaby 329; Streeton 111).Artist Miles Evergood arrived in London in 1910, and visited the Chelsea Arts Club. He mentions expatriate Australian artists gathering at the Club, including Will Dyson, Fred Leist (1873–1945), David Davies (1864–1939), Will Ashton (1881–1963), and Henry Fullwood (Hammer 41).Most of the Melbourne Savage Club artist members were active in the London Savage Club. On one occasion, in November 1908, Roberts, with fellow artist MacKennal in the Chair, attended the Australian Artists’ Dinner held there. This event attracted twenty-five expatriate Australian artists, all residing in London at the time (McQueen 532).These London arts clubs had a significant influence on the expatriate Australian artists for they became the “glue” that held them together whilst abroad. Although some artists travelled abroad specifically to take up places at the Royal Academy School or the Slade School, only a minority of artists arriving in London from Australia and other British colonies were offered positions at these prestigious schools. Many artists travelled to “try their luck.” The arts clubs of London, whilst similarly discerning in their membership criteria, generally offered a visiting “brother-of-the-brush” a warm welcome as a professional courtesy. They featured the familiar rollicking all-male “Smoke Nights” a feature of the Melbourne Savage Club. With a greater “artist” membership than the clubs in Australia, expatriate artists were not only able to catch up with their friends from Australia, but also they could associate with England’s finest and most progressive artists in a familiar congenial environment. The clubs were a “home away from home” and described by Underhill as, “an artistic Earl’s Court” (Underhill 99). Most importantly, the clubs were a centre for discourse, arguably even more so than were the teaching academies. Britain’s leading modernist artists were members of the Chelsea Arts Club and the New English Arts Club and mixed freely with the visiting Australian artists.Many Australian artists, such as Miles Evergood and George Bell (1878–1966), held anti-academic views similar to English club members and embraced the new artistic trends, which they would bring back to Australia. Streeton had no illusions about the relative worth of the famed institutions and the exhibitions held by clubs such as the New English. Writing to Roberts before he joins him in London, he describes the Royal Academy as having, “an inartistic atmosphere” and claims he “hasn’t the least desire to go again” (Streeton 77). His preference lay with a concurrent “International Exhibition”, which featured works by Rodin, Whistler, Condor, Degas, and others who were setting the pace rather than merely continuing the academic traditions.Architect Hardy Wilson (1881–1955) served as secretary of The Chelsea Arts Club. When he returned to Australia he brought back with him a number of British works by Streeton and Lambert for an exhibition at the Guild Hall Melbourne (Underhill 92). Artists and Bohemians, a history of the Chelsea Arts Club, makes special reference of its world-wide contacts and singles out many of its prominent Australian members for specific mention including; Sir John William (Will) Ashton OBE, later Director of the Art Gallery of New South Wales, and Will Dyson, whose illustrious career as an Australian war artist was described in some detail. Dyson’s popularity led to his later appointment as Chairman of the Chelsea Arts Club where he initiated an ambitious rebuilding program, improving staff accommodation, refurbishing the members’ areas, and adding five bedrooms for visiting members (Bross 87-90).Whilst the influence of travel abroad on Australian artists has been noted, the importance of the London Clubs has not been fully explored. These clubs offered artists a space where they felt “at home” and a familiar environment whilst they were abroad. The clubs functioned as a meeting space where they could engage in a stimulating artistic environment and gain introductions to leading figures in the art world. For those artists who chose England, London’s arts clubs played a large role, for it was in these establishments that they discussed, exhibited, shared, and met with their English counterparts. The club environment in London had a significant impact on male Australian artists as it offered a space where they were integrated into the English art world which enhanced their experience whilst abroad and influenced the direction of their art.ReferencesCorbett, David Peters, and Lara Perry, eds. English Art, 1860–1914: Modern Artists and Identity. Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2000.Croll, Robert Henderson. Tom Roberts: Father of Australian Landscape Painting. Melbourne: Robertson & Mullens, 1935.Cross, Tom. Artists and Bohemians: 100 Years with the Chelsea Arts Club. 1992. 1st ed. London: Quiller Press, 1992.Gray, Anne, and National Gallery of Australia. McCubbin: Last Impressions 1907–17. 1st ed. Parkes, A.C.T.: National Gallery of Australia, 2009.Halliday, Andrew, ed. The Savage Papers. 1867. 1st ed. London: Tinsley Brothers, 1867.Hammer, Gael. Miles Evergood: No End of Passion. Willoughby, NSW: Phillip Mathews, 2013.Joske, Prue. Debonair Jack: A Biography of Sir John Longstaff. 1st ed. Melbourne: Claremont Publishing, 1994.MacDonald, James S., Frederick McCubbin, and Alexander McCubbin. The Art of F. McCubbin. Melbourne: Lothian Book Publishing, 1916.McCaughy, Patrick. Strange Country: Why Australian Painting Matters. Ed. Paige Amor. The Miegunyah Press, 2014.McCubbin, Frederick. Papers, Ca. 1900–Ca. 1915. Melbourne.McQueen, Humphrey. Tom Roberts. Sydney: Macmillan, 1996.Mead, Stephen. "Bohemia in Melbourne: An Investigation of the Writer Marcus Clarke and Four Artistic Clubs during the Late 1860s – 1901.” PhD thesis. Melbourne: University of Melbourne, 2009.Melbourne Savage Club. Secretary. Minute Book: Melbourne Savage Club. Club Minutes (General Committee). Melbourne: Savage Archives.Mulvaney, Derek John, and J.H. Calaby. So Much That Is New: Baldwin Spencer, 1860–1929, a Biography. Carlton, Vic.: Melbourne University Press, 1985.Smith, Bernard, Terry Smith, and Christopher Heathcote. Australian Painting, 1788–2000. 4th ed. South Melbourne, Vic.: Oxford University Press, 2001.Streeton, Arthur, et al. Smike to Bulldog: Letters from Sir Arthur Streeton to Tom Roberts. Sydney: Ure Smith, 1946.Streeton, Arthur, ed. Letters from Smike: The Letters of Arthur Streeton, 1890–1943. Melbourne: Oxford University Press, 1989.Thornton, Alfred, and New English Art Club. Fifty Years of the New English Art Club, 1886–1935. London: New English Art Club, Curwen Press 1935.Underhill, Nancy D.H. Making Australian Art 1916–49: Sydney Ure Smith Patron and Publisher. South Melbourne: Oxford University Press, 1991.Various. Melbourne Savage Club Correspondence Book: 1902–1916. Melbourne: Melbourne Savage Club.Williams, Graeme Henry. "A Socio-Cultural Reading: The Melbourne Savage Club through Its Collections." Masters of Arts thesis. Melbourne: Deakin University, 2013.

Photograph by Gonzalo Echeverria (2010)The Screen would light up. They would feel a thrill of satisfaction. But the colours had faded with age, the picture wobbled on the screen, the women were of another age; they would come out they would be sad. It was not the film they had dreamt of. It was not the total film each of them had inside himself, the perfect film they could have enjoyed forever and ever. The film they would have liked to make. Or, more secretly, no doubt, the film they would have liked to live. (Perec 57) Over the years that I have watched and thought about Jean-Luc Godard’s films I have been struck by the idea of him as an artist who works with the moving image and perhaps just as importantly the idea of cinema as an irresolvable series of problems. Most obviously this ‘problematic condition’ of Godard’s practice is evidenced in the series of crises and renunciations that pepper the historical trace of his work. A trace that is often characterised thus: criticism, the Nouvelle Vague, May 1968, the Dziga Vertov group, the adoption of video, the return to narrative form, etc. etc. Of all these events it is the rejection of both the dominant cinematic narrative form and its attendant models of production that so clearly indicated the depth and intensity of Godard’s doubt in the artistic viability of the institution of cinema. Historically and ideologically congruent with the events of May 1968, this turning away from tradition was foreshadowed by the closing titles of his 1967 opus Week End: fin de cinema (the end of cinema). Godard’s relentless application to the task of engaging a more discursive and politically informed mode of operation had implications not only for the films that were made in the wake of his disavowal of cinema but also for those that preceded it. In writing this paper it was my initial intention to selectively consider the vast oeuvre of the filmmaker as a type of conceptual project that has in some way been defined by the condition of doubt. While to certain degree I have followed this remit, I have found it necessary to focus on a small number of historically correspondent filmic instances to make my point. The sheer size and complexity of Godard’s output would effectively doom any other approach to deal in generalities. To this end I am interested in the ways that these films have embodied doubt as both an aesthetic and philosophical position. There is an enduring sense of contentiousness that surrounds both the work and perceived motives of the filmmaker Jean-Luc Godard that has never come at the cost of discourse. Through a period of activity that now stretches into its sixth decade Godard has shaped an oeuvre that is as stylistically diverse as it is theoretically challenging. This span of practice is noteworthy not only for its sheer length but for its enduring ability to polarise both audiences and critical opinion. Indeed these opposing critical positions are so well inscribed in our historical understanding of Godard’s practice that they function as a type of secondary narrative. It is a narrative that the artist himself has been more than happy to cultivate and at times even engage. One hardly needs to be reminded that Godard came to making films as a critic. He asserted in the pages of his former employer Cahiers du Cinema in 1962 that “As a critic, I thought of myself as a filmmaker. Today I still think of myself as a critic, and in a sense I am, more than ever before. Instead of writing criticism, I make a film, but the critical dimension is subsumed” (59). If Godard did at this point in time believe that the criticality of practice as a filmmaker was “subsumed”, the ensuing years would see a more overt sense of criticality emerge in his work. By 1968 he was to largely reject both traditional cinematic form and production models in a concerted effort to explore the possibilities of a revolutionary cinema. In the same interview the director went on to extol the virtues of the cine-literacy that to a large part defined the loose alignment of Nouvelle Vague directors (Chabrol, Godard, Rohmer, Rivette, Truffaut) referred to as the Cahiers group claiming that “We were the first directors to know that Griffiths exists” (Godard 60). It is a statement that is as persuasive as it is dramatic, foregrounding the hitherto obscured history of cinema while positioning the group firmly within its master narrative. However, given the benefit of hindsight one realises that perhaps the filmmaker’s motives were not as simple as historical posturing. For Godard what is at stake is not just the history of cinema but cinema itself. When he states that “We were thinking cinema and at a certain moment we felt the need to extend that thought” one is struck by how far and for how long he has continued to think about and through cinema. In spite of the hours of strict ideological orthodoxy that accompanied his most politically informed works of the late 1960s and early 1970s or the sustained sense of wilful obtuseness that permeates his most “difficult” work, there is a sense of commitment to extending “that thought” that is without peer. The name “Godard”, in the words of the late critic Serge Daney, “designates an auteur but it is also synonymous with a tenacious passion for that region of the world of images we call the cinema” (Daney 68). It is a passion that is both the crux of his practice as an artist and the source of a restless experimentation and interrogation of the moving image. For Godard the passion of cinema is one that verges on religiosity. This carries with it all the philosophical and spiritual implications that the term implies. Cinema functions here as a system of signs that at once allows us to make sense of and live in the world. But this is a faith for Godard that is nothing if not tested. From the radical formal experimentation of his first feature film À Bout de soufflé (Breathless) onwards Godard has sought to place the idea of cinema in doubt. In this sense doubt becomes a type of critical engine that at once informs the shape of individual works and animates the constantly shifting positions the artist has occupied. Serge Daney's characterisation of the Nouvelle Vague as possessed of a “lucidity tinged with nostalgia” (70) is especially pertinent in understanding the way in which doubt came to animate Godard’s practice across the 1960s and beyond. Daney’s contention that the movement was both essentially nostalgic and saturated with an acute awareness that the past could not be recreated, casts the cinema itself as type of irresolvable proposition. Across the dazzling arc of films (15 features in 8 years) that Godard produced prior to his renunciation of narrative cinematic form in 1967, one can trace an unravelling of faith. During this period we can consider Godard's work and its increasingly complex engagement with the political as being predicated by the condition of doubt. The idea of the cinema as an industrial and social force increasingly permeates this work. For Godard the cinema becomes a site of questioning and ultimately reinvention. In his 1963 short film Le Grand Escroc (The Great Rogue) a character asserts that “cinema is the most beautiful fraud in the world”. Indeed it is this sense of the paradoxical that shadows much of his work. The binary of beauty and fraud, like that of faith and doubt, calls forth a questioning of the cinema that stands to this day. It is of no small consequence that so many of Godard’s 1960s works contain scenes of people watching films within the confines of a movie theatre. For Godard and his Nouvelle Vague peers the sale de cinema was both the hallowed site of cinematic reception and the terrain of the everyday. It is perhaps not surprising then he chooses the movie theatre as a site to play out some of his most profound engagements with the cinema. Considered in relation to each other these scenes of cinematic viewing trace a narrative in which an undeniable affection for the cinema is undercut by both a sense of loss and doubt. Perhaps the most famous of Godard’s ‘viewing’ scenes is from the film Vivre Sa Vie (My Life to Live). Essentially a tale of existential trauma, the film follows the downward spiral of a young woman Nana (played by Anna Karina) into prostitution and then death at the hands of ruthless pimps. Championed (with qualifications) by Susan Sontag as a “perfect film” (207), it garnered just as many detractors, including famously the director Roberto Rosellini, for what was perceived to be its nihilistic content and overly stylised form. Seeking refuge in a cinema after being cast out from her apartment for non payment of rent the increasingly desperate Nana is shown engrossed in the starkly silent images of Carl Dreyer’s 1928 film La Passion de Jeanne d’Arc (The Passion of Joan of Arc). Godard cuts from the action of his film to quote at length from Dreyer’s classic, returning from the mute intensity of Maria Faloconetti’s portrayal of the condemned Joan of Arc to Karina’s enraptured face. As Falconetti’s tears swell and fall so do Karina’s, the emotional rawness of the performance on the screen mirrored and internalised by the doomed character of Nana. Nana’s identification with that of the screen heroine is at once total and immaculate as her own brutal death at the hands of men is foretold. There is an ominous silence to this sequence that serves not only to foreground the sheer visual intensity of what is being shown but also to separate it from the world outside this purely cinematic space. However, if we are to read this scene as a testament to the power of the cinematic we must also admit to the doubt that resides within it. Godard’s act of separation invites us to consider the scene not only as a meditation on the emotional and existential state of the character of Nana but also on the foreshortened possibilities of the cinema itself. As Godard’s shots mirror those of Dreyer we are presented with a consummate portrait of irrevocable loss. This is a complex system of imagery that places Dreyer’s faith against Godard’s doubt without care for the possibility of resolution. Of all Godard’s 1960s films that feature cinema spectatorship the sequence belonging to Masculin Féminin (Masculine Feminine) from 1966 is perhaps the most confounding and certainly the most digressive. A series of events largely driven by a single character’s inability or unwillingness to surrender to the projected image serve to frustrate, fracture and complexify the cinema-viewing experience. It is however, a viewing experience that articulates the depth of Godard’s doubt in the viability of the cinematic form. The sequence, like much of the film itself, centres on the trials of the character Paul played by Jean-Pierre Léaud. Locked in a struggle against the pop-cultural currents of the day and the attendant culture of consumption and appearances, Paul is positioned within the film as a somewhat conflicted and ultimately doomed romantic. His relationship with Madeleine played by real life yé-yé singer Chantal Goya is a source of constant anxiety. The world that he inhabits, however marginally, of nightclubs, pop records and publicity seems philosophically at odds with the classical music and literature that he avidly devours. If the cinema-viewing scene of Vivre Sa Vie is defined by the enraptured intensity of Anna Karina’s gaze, the corresponding scene in Masculin Féminin stands, at least initially, as the very model of distracted spectatorship. As the film in the theatre starts, Paul who has been squeezed out of his seat next to Madeleine by her jealous girlfriend, declares that he needs to go to the toilet. On entering the bathroom he is confronted by the sight of a pair of men locked in a passionate kiss. It is a strange and disarming turn of events that prompts his hastily composed graffiti response: down with the republic of cowards. For theorist Nicole Brenez the appearance of these male lovers “is practically a fantasmatic image evoked by the amorous situation that Paul is experiencing” (Brenez 174). This quasi-spectral appearance of embracing lovers and grafitti writing is echoed in the following sequence where Paul once again leaves the theatre, this time to fervently inform the largely indifferent theatre projectionist about the correct projection ratio of the film being shown. On his graffiti strewn journey back inside Paul encounters an embracing man and woman nestled in an outer corner of the theatre building. Silent and motionless the presence of this intertwined couple is at once unsettling and prescient providing “a background real for what is being projected inside on the screen” (Brenez 174). On returning to the theatre Paul asks Madeleine to fill him in on what he has missed to which she replies, “It is about a man and woman in a foreign city who…”. Shot in Stockholm to appease the Swedish co-producers that stipulated that part of the production be made in Sweden, the film within a film occupies a fine line between restrained formal artfulness and pornographic violence. What could have been a creatively stifling demand on the part of his financial backers was inverted by Godard to become a complex exploration of power relations played out through an unsettling sexual encounter. When questioned on set by a Swedish television reporter what the film was about the filmmaker curtly replied, “The film has a lot to do with sex and the Swedish are known for that” (Masculin Féminin). The film possesses a barely concealed undertow of violence. A drama of resistance and submission is played out within the confines of a starkly decorated apartment. The apartment itself is a zone in which language ceases to operate or at the least is reduced to its barest components. The man’s imploring grunts are met with the woman’s repeated reply of “no”. What seemingly begins as a homage to the contemporaneous work of Swedish director Ingmar Bergman quickly slides into a chronicle of coercion. As the final scene of seduction/debasement is played out on the screen the camera pulls away to reveal the captivated gazes of Madeleine and her friends. It finally rests on Paul who then shuts his eyes, unable to bear what is being shown on the screen. It is a moment of refusal that marks a turning away not only from this projected image but from cinema itself. A point made all the clearer by Paul’s voiceover that accompanies the scene: We went to the movies often. The screen would light up and we would feel a thrill. But Madeleine and I were usually disappointed. The images were dated and jumpy. Marilyn Monroe had aged badly. We felt sad. It wasn't the movie of our dreams. It wasn't that total film we carried inside ourselves. That film we would have liked to make. Or, more secretly, no doubt the film we wanted to live. (Masculin Féminin) There was a dogged relentlessness to Godard’s interrogation of the cinema through the very space of its display. 1963’s Le Mépris (Contempt) swapped the public movie theatre for the private screening room; a theatrette emblazoned with the words Il cinema é un’invenzione senza avvenire. The phrase, presented in a style that recalled Soviet revolutionary graphics, is an Italian translation of Louis Lumiere’s 1895 appraisal of his new creation: “The cinema is an invention without a future.” The words have an almost physical presence in the space providing a fatalistic backdrop to the ensuing scene of conflict and commerce. As an exercise in self reflexivity it at once serves to remind us that even at its inception the cinema was cast in doubt. In Le Mépris the pleasures of spectatorship are played against the commercial demands of the cinema as industry. Following a screening of rushes for a troubled production of Homer’s Odyssey a tempestuous exchange ensues between a hot-headed producer (Jeremy Prokosch played by Jack Palance) and a calmly philosophical director (Fritz Lang as himself). It is a scene that attests to Godard’s view of the cinema as an art form that is creatively compromised by its own modes of production. In a film that plays the disintegration of a relationship against the production of a movie and that features a cast of Germans, Italians and French it is of no small consequence that the movie producer is played by an American. An American who, when faced with a creative impasse, utters the phrase “when I hear the word culture I bring out my checkbook”. It is one of Godard’s most acerbic and doubt filled sequences pitting as he does the implied genius of Lang against the tantrum throwing demands of the rapacious movie producer. We are presented with a model of industrial relations that is both creatively stifling and practically unworkable. Certainly it was no coincidence that Le Mépris had the biggest budget ($1 million) that Godard has ever worked with. In Godard’s 1965 film Une Femme Mariée (A Married Woman), he would once again use the movie theatre as a location. The film, which dealt with the philosophical implications of an adulterous affair, is also notable for its examination of the Holocaust and that defining event’s relationship to personal and collective memory. Biographer Richard Brody has observed that, “Godard introduced the Auschwitz trial into The Married Woman (sic) as a way of inserting his view of another sort of forgetting that he suggested had taken hold of France—the conjoined failures of historical and personal memory that resulted from the world of mass media and the ideology of gratification” (Brody 196-7). Whatever the causes, there is a pervading sense of amnesia that surrounds the Holocaust in the film. In one exchange the character of Charlotte, the married woman in question, momentarily confuses Auschwitz with thalidomide going on to later exclaim that “the past isn’t fun”. But like the barely repressed memories of her past indiscretions, the Holocaust returns at the most unexpected juncture in the film. In what starts out as Godard’s most overt reference to the work of Alfred Hitchcock, Charlotte and her lover secretly meet under the cover of darkness in a movie theatre. Each arriving separately and kitted out in dark sunglasses, there is breezy energy to this clandestine rendezvous highly reminiscent of the work of the great director. It is a stylistic point that is underscored in the film by the inclusion of a full-frame shot of Hitchcock’s portrait in the theatre’s foyer. However, as the lovers embrace the curtain rises on Alain Resnais’s 1955 documentary Nuit et Brouillard (Night and Fog). The screen is filled with images of barbed wire as the voice of narrator Jean Cayrol informs the audience that “even a vacation village with a fair and a steeple can lead very simply to a concentration camp.” It is an incredibly shocking moment, in which the repressed returns to confirm that while memory “isn’t fun”, it is indeed necessary. An uncanny sense of recognition pervades the scene as the two lovers are faced with the horrendous evidence of a past that refuses to stay subsumed. The scene is all the more powerful for the seemingly casual manner it is relayed. There is no suspenseful unveiling or affected gauging of the viewers’ reactions. What is simply is. In this moment of recognition the Hitchcockian mood of the anticipation of an illicit rendezvous is supplanted by a numbness as swift as it is complete. Needless to say the couple make a swift retreat from the now forever compromised space of the theatre. Indeed this scene is one of the most complex and historically layered of any that Godard had produced up to this point in his career. By making overt reference to Hitchcock he intimates that the cinema itself is deeply implicated in this perceived crisis of memory. What begins as a homage to the work of one of the most valorised influences of the Nouvelle Vague ends as a doubt filled meditation on the shortcomings of a system of representation. The question stands: how do we remember through the cinema? In this regard the scene signposts a line of investigation that would become a defining obsession of Godard’s expansive Histoire(s) du cinéma, a project that was to occupy him throughout the 1990s. Across four chapters and four and half hours Histoire(s) du cinéma examines the inextricable relationship between the history of the twentieth century and the cinema. Comprised almost completely of filmic quotations, images and text, the work employs a video-based visual language that unremittingly layers image upon image to dissolve and realign the past. In the words of theorist Junji Hori “Godard's historiography in Histoire(s) du cinéma is based principally on the concept of montage in his idiosyncratic sense of the term” (336). In identifying montage as the key strategy in Histoire(s) du cinéma Hori implicates the cinema itself as central to both Godard’s process of retelling history and remembering it. However, it is a process of remembering that is essentially compromised. Just as the relationship of the cinema to the Holocaust is bought into question in Une Femme Mariée, so too it becomes a central concern of Histoire(s) du cinéma. It is Godard’s assertion “that the cinema failed to honour its ethical commitment to presenting the unthinkable barbarity of the Nazi extermination camps” (Temple 332). This was a failure that for Godard moved beyond the realm of doubt to represent “nothing less than the end of cinema” (Brody 512). In October 1976 the New Yorker magazine published a profile of Jean Luc Godard by Penelope Gilliatt a writer who shared the post of film critic at the magazine with Pauline Kael. The article was based on an interview that took place at Godard’s production studio in Grenoble Switzerland. It was notable for two things: Namely, the most succinct statement that Godard has made regarding the enduring sense of criticality that pervades his work: “A good film is a matter of questions properly put.” (74) And secondly, surely the shortest sentence ever written about the filmmaker: “Doubt stands.” (77)ReferencesÀ Bout de soufflé. Dir. Jean Luc Godard. 1960. DVD. Criterion, 2007. Brenez, Nicole. “The Forms of the Question.” For Ever Godard. Eds. Michael Temple, James S. Williams, and Michael Witt. London: Black Dog, 2004. Brody, Richard. Everything Is Cinema: The Working Life of Jean-Luc Godard. New York: Metropolitan Books / Henry Holt & Co., 2008. Daney, Serge. “The Godard Paradox.” For Ever Godard. Eds. Michael Temple, James S. Williams, and Michael Witt. London: Black Dog, 2004. Gilliat, Penelope. “The Urgent Whisper.” Jean-Luc Godard Interviews. Ed. David Sterritt. Jackson: University Press of Mississippi, 1998. Godard, Jean-Luc. “Jean-Luc Godard: 'From Critic to Film-Maker': Godard in Interview (extracts). ('Entretien', Cahiers du Cinema 138, December 1962).” Cahiers du Cinéma: 1960-1968 New Wave, New Cinema, Reevaluating Hollywood. Ed. Jim Hillier. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1986. Histoires du Cinema. Dir. and writ. Jean Luc Godard. 1988-98. DVD, Artificial Eye, 2008. Hori, Junji. “Godard’s Two Histiographies.” For Ever Godard. Eds. Michael Temple, James S. Williams, and Michael Witt. London: Black Dog, 2004. Le Grand Escroc. Dir. Jean Luc Godard. Perf. Jean Seberg. Film. Ulysse Productions, 1963. Le Mépris. Dir. Jean Luc Godard. Perf. Jack Palance, Fritz Lang. 1964. DVD. Criterion, 2002. La Passion de Jeanne d’Arc. Dir. Carl Theodor Dreyer. Film. Janus films, 1928. MacCabe, Colin. Godard: A Portrait of the Artist at 70. London: Bloomsbury, 2003. Masculin Féminin. Dir. and writ. Jean Luc Godard. Perf. Jean-Pierre Léaud. 1966. DVD. Criterion, 2005. Nuit et Brouillard. Dir Alain Resnais. Film. Janus Films, 1958. Perec, Georges. Things: A Story of the Sixties. Trans. David Bellos. London: Collins Harvill, 1990. (Originally published 1965.) Sontag, Susan. “Godard’s Vivre Sa Vie.” Against Interpretation and Other Essays. New York: Picador, 2001. Temple, Michael, James S. Williams, and Michael Witt, eds. For Ever Godard. London: Black Dog, 2004. Une Femme Mariée. Dir. and writ. Jean Luc Godard. Perf. Macha Meril. 1964. DVD. Eureka, 2009. Vivre Sa Vie. Dir. and writ. Jean Luc Godard. Perf. Anna Karina. 1962. DVD. Criterion, 2005. Week End, Dir. and writ. Jean Luc Godard. 1967. DVD. Distinction Series, 2005.