The quote by Raymond Carver that opens the recent film Birdman is the exact same that my father read at my grandfather's funeral this past summer.
And did you get what you wanted from this life, even so?
I did.
And what did you want?
To call myself beloved, to feel myself beloved on the earth.
-Raymond Carver, Late Fragment
Image source: http://www.indyweek.com/imager/movie-review-birdman-soars-despite/b/original/4280927/6e25/Birdman_courtesy_Fox_Searchlight.jpg
Words, images and documents by or collected by Jessica Schouela
Wednesday, 11 March 2015
Tuesday, 10 March 2015
Critters that Move (Us): Lygia Clark’s Bichos
Here is a version of the presentation I am giving on an essay that I have written on Lygia Clark.
Today I will be discussing the Brazilian Neoconcretist artist Lygia
Clark’s series called “Bichos” which she began making in 1965. Just for a bit
of background information, Neoconcretism was a movement beginning in the 1950s
in Rio de Janeiro in response to the Sao Paolo Concretism group. For the
Neoconcretists, the Sao Paolo movement focused too much on the theoretical and
dogmatic aspects of geometric abstract art whereas their own focus was to
restore a sense of expression in the production of art objects, or as they are
sometimes called, instruments.
Clark’s Bichos
have been translated to English as animal, beast or critter. They are composed
of metal plates that are hinged together to create a mutable polymorphous
sculpture, which can be held in the viewer’s hands. Its original design was
such that it instructed the viewer to play with the Bicho by folding it to
create new forms. For my essay, I was interested to see how we might approach
the Bichos as having a certain agency as well as occupying a body. Some of the
questions I want to ask are: What would we discover if we were to set aside
what we already think we understand about the subjectivity of objects and of
animals? What would a democratic, a more egalitarian, encounter between human
and thing look like? If we were to consider technologies and objects as having
bodies, how might this change the ways in which we approach the world as well
as ourselves as humans?
The argument
that I would like to put forward is that the Bicho is a subjective agent that
behaves as an equal participant in the encounter between itself and the viewer.
In such a meeting, wherein the viewer takes hold of the Bicho’s metallic limbs
and moves them, she too is moved as a function of the distinct limitations of
the physical structure of the given Bicho.
I begin my
argument by exploring Bill Brown’s notion of the “thing” which he distinguishes
from the object. For Brown, we don’t see objects, or as he puts it, we see
through objects because of their cultural associations with a particular
function. It is only when an object fails to function for humans and is rendered
obsolete or inoperable that it asserts itself as an agential thing. Brown
explains how a thing is a description of a subject-object relationship. In this
way, a thing is born through its encounter with a viewer. While the Bicho may
initially signify as a work of art, especially in the context of a gallery, the
permission to touch it and play with it destabilizes the look-but-don’t-touch
rule. In this sense, it stops being a typical artwork and asserts itself as a
participant in the encounter, as a thing.
I go on to
discuss how this encounter can be repeated again and again because of the multitude
of forms that the Bicho can claim. In her discussion of the Bichos, Briony Fer argues
that this kind of variability is dependent on the Bicho’s sensitivity to its
surroundings and to the hands that manipulate it.
What I want
to draw out here is the performability that is inherent in such an encounter.
What I find particularly interesting here are the ways in which the subject
also moves as she moves the Bicho. What I mean by this is that the joints of
that particular Bicho dictate the subject’s physical disposition. In this way,
there is a sort of harmonious dance that occurs when a viewer moves a Bicho and
a Bicho consequently moves the viewer.
In another
aspect that is crucial to my argument, I make use of Derrida’s text “The Animal
That Therefore I Am”. In this context, I first discuss Derrida’s return to
Genesis to recount how God instructs Adam to name the animals. Derrida explains
that this power is a privilege reserved for man alone. Clark names her
sculptures beasts, animals or critters but does not provide any further
specification, only tells us that they belong to this category. Because of the
polymorphic and mutable nature of the Bichos, they can never resemble a
specific animal long enough to be named after it. In this way, by refraining
from specifying the Bichos more acutely, Clark decidedly does not participate
in the violence inherent in the human methods of ordering living things into a
hierarchy. Instead of subjugating her Bichos to the dominating power described
by Derrida, by titling her work in this way, as well as facilitating a
respectful exchange between the human subject and the Bicho, Clark draws
attention to the human as animal as well as to the animal as subject.
I briefly
discuss Donna Haraway’s section on critters in her book When Species Meet. Interestingly enough, Haraway equates the
critter with the thing. For Haraway however, things are material and specific.
Alternatively, I suggest that the very quality that makes an object a thing is
its inability to be specific, its abstractness. In the case of the Bichos, this
is twofold: firstly, it is not specific because of its changeable and ever-changing
form and secondly, because it is named a critter and not anything more
descriptive or concrete. Haraway also proposes that things never function alone
but are compound and interact with other things in the world. If this is true
then things function as a component that contributes to a larger assemblage of
active agents. In other words, the thing collaborates with the viewer in order
to come into its thingness and to create an encounter that challenges the
hierarchy of bodies, whether animal, thing or human.
The last
section of my essay discusses the recent curatorial decisions and exhibition
strategies of the Bichos in the exhibition at the Whitechapel Gallery called “Adventures
of the Black Square”. In this show, the Bichos are shown on a plinth inside a
clear display case. By enclosing the critter in this way, its ability to
interact with the viewer is so compromised that its previous generative
potential to produce meaning and to move the viewer as the viewer moves it is
utterly lost and rendered sterile. The ability to play with the Bicho is vital
not only to the viewer’s conception of it as thing, as animal, but also to the
animation of it as an agent in motion.
Image from: https://historiasdasartes.files.wordpress.com/2010/10/23-bicho-de-bolso-lygia-clark.jpg
Thursday, 19 February 2015
Harun Farocki: Images of the World and the Inscription of War
As a part of the exhibition at the Tate called Time, Conflict, Photography and at the recommendation of my professor at UCL, Stephanie Schwartz, who teaches a seminar that I am participating in called American Media: Publicity and the Logics of Surveillance, I attended a screening of Harun Farocki's film, "Images of the World and the Inscription of War". The film was probably one of the most complicated that I have ever watched and I feel as though I should screen it several times before I could really sense that I have come to some kind of palpable understanding of it in its entirety.
"Images of the World and the Inscription of War" tells the story of how images of Auschwitz during the World War II were captured by the American surveillance cameras attempting to take aerial photographs of an industrial plant nearby in Germany. It was only in the 1970s when the CIA noticed that the concentration camp in operation was visible in these shots. The images show a queue of dots - prisoners lining up for their death in the gas chambers.
The film pieces also together a variety of seemingly unrelated shots as a sort of recurring collage, one of which includes scenes showing close-ups of a woman who remains still as makeup is applied to her face and then removed from it. Farocki sews in a multitude of distinct images that relate to surveillance and perception, visibility and invisibility and what it might mean to look at and see a face.
Images taken from http://images.tate.org.uk/sites/default/files/styles/grid-normal-8-cols/public/images/brenez_05_0_1.jpg?itok=EwLPhRZb and http://www.tate.org.uk/whats-on/tate-modern/film/harun-farocki-images-world-and-inscription-war
"Images of the World and the Inscription of War" tells the story of how images of Auschwitz during the World War II were captured by the American surveillance cameras attempting to take aerial photographs of an industrial plant nearby in Germany. It was only in the 1970s when the CIA noticed that the concentration camp in operation was visible in these shots. The images show a queue of dots - prisoners lining up for their death in the gas chambers.
The film pieces also together a variety of seemingly unrelated shots as a sort of recurring collage, one of which includes scenes showing close-ups of a woman who remains still as makeup is applied to her face and then removed from it. Farocki sews in a multitude of distinct images that relate to surveillance and perception, visibility and invisibility and what it might mean to look at and see a face.
Images taken from http://images.tate.org.uk/sites/default/files/styles/grid-normal-8-cols/public/images/brenez_05_0_1.jpg?itok=EwLPhRZb and http://www.tate.org.uk/whats-on/tate-modern/film/harun-farocki-images-world-and-inscription-war
Conflict, Time, Photography at the Tate Modern
I went to see the exhibition Conflict, Time, Photography at the Tate Modern a few weeks ago and have been meaning to write something on it. What I particularly found interesting about the show were the curatorial choices. The way the exhibition was organized was according to how long after the catastrophic event the photograph was made. None of the works could be considered photojournalism but instead are artistic responses in the photographic medium to make sense of these events. The first room consisted of photographs made only moments have the (usually) war related event in question. The rooms that followed were a few days after, a few months after, a few years after up to 100 years after the event whereby artists continued to respond to the traumas that occurred one century before.
What I also found engaging about Conflict, Time, Photography was that it attended to events from all over the world without a focus on any one or two era or areas of conflict. In this way, there was a certain kind of democracy in the selection of photographs where no one image seemed more dire than the other. Rather, the included works came together to insist on two opposing yet connected sentiments: that the experience of catastrophe is at once unique to an individual and at the same time reflects a collective trauma.
One of the works that struck me in particular was Wolf’s Lair / Adolf Hitler’s War Headquarters by Polish artist Jerzy Lewczynski taken in the 1960s.
Image taken from http://images.tate.org.uk/sites/default/files/styles/grid-normal-16-cols/public/images/conflicttimewebbanner_0.jpg?itok=BeZ9lXzV
What I also found engaging about Conflict, Time, Photography was that it attended to events from all over the world without a focus on any one or two era or areas of conflict. In this way, there was a certain kind of democracy in the selection of photographs where no one image seemed more dire than the other. Rather, the included works came together to insist on two opposing yet connected sentiments: that the experience of catastrophe is at once unique to an individual and at the same time reflects a collective trauma.
One of the works that struck me in particular was Wolf’s Lair / Adolf Hitler’s War Headquarters by Polish artist Jerzy Lewczynski taken in the 1960s.
Image taken from http://images.tate.org.uk/sites/default/files/styles/grid-normal-16-cols/public/images/conflicttimewebbanner_0.jpg?itok=BeZ9lXzV
The Collie I Never Had
Here is a poem of mine called "The Collie I Never Had" that was recently published by Ink Sweat and Tears... kind of seeing a pattern here about things I don't have or things I didn't experience... http://www.inksweatandtears.co.uk/pages/?p=8133
Image from http://bilder.markt.de/images/cms/hunde/collie.jpg
Sunday, 1 February 2015
Two poems on The Quietus
Two poems of mine were published today on The Quietus ("AEIOU" and "Frog Karma"). Very exciting!! http://thequietus.com/articles/17143-two-poems-jessica-schouela
(The image chosen to accompany my poems on the site)
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