We collaborate here...definition: "In the mediatrix, you throw yourself to others. You create through others. The media philosopher realizes painfully that she must sacrifice her beloved cogito, her cherished institutionalism, her age-old desire for total control to a communal process-in-the-making" (Mark Taylor_Esa Saarinen, _Imagologies_ 8)
@create $thing called peace
AQ 435 = THE ORDER-WORD ASSEMBLAGE = AQUASSASSINS OF HYPER-C = DE-OEDIPALIZED SENTIENCES = ELEGANT MATHEMATICAL MODEL = PRODUCTIVITY GROWTH = PSYCHIC TELEPATHIC ORGAN = THE DARK NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
Imagologies is an enormous stack of slogans, statements, oracles, confessionals, questions and ukases about the role of the (new, mostly) media. The bits of text are often only a few lines long and impossible to assemble into one narrative. Because the book is printed and bound, an order is imposed, but it is rather an arbitrary one. Today's reader, after all, is used to reading books in every way except from front to back, so one adjusts quite easily to Imagologies. Unfortunately there is no index, an instrument that somewhat eases criss-cross reading + Esa Saarinen suggests a somewhat different tactic: Shock-effect reading, that is what I would recommend. Hypertextual reading, in the sense in which you jump around at will in a given textmass, not necessarily intending to grasp the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Instead, you just pump gas in your engine. He has also used this principle in his classes, with what he calls 'excellent results', because the students care as little for reading as he does himself. He works as follows: students are given a photocopy of a random page from a random book and must let the book inspire them to comment upon it. Through the limitation of that one photocopy it becomes possible to set aside the 'real' context of the text and to concentrate on one paragraph. Freed of the excess baggage formed by the complete book, it becomes much simpler to generate commentary as a reader; or, better yet, to write further + Nonlinear, fragmentary and jumpy though the book may be, a series of ideas are developed here into theoretical concepts and commentaries. The most important is 'imagologies', for which the book is named. The basis of this concept consists of the observation that since image has displaced print as the primary medium for discourse, the public use of reason can no longer be limited to print culture. To be effective, writing must become imagoscription that is available to everyone.
communism is a defining moment of double articulation; it is a moment of reinforcement, of repetition or redundancy production. It finds its distorted reversal in the ‘password’, inherent in every retrograde as its potentials for breaking open new zones of relations, rather than reaffirming (helping to lock in) the relations already in place. a crossover point not only for fiction and theory, but for everything that either doesn't know its place or is in the process of escaping it. whatever is emerging where authority is getting lost and middle men are being made redundant. the redundancy of the semiology is clearly visible in the machineries which give the teleonomic their force, that are the preconditions of those phrases being attached to those meanings in the first place. there is no one founding point or principle to be arrived at, though the zeitgeist has emerged as the locus of switchings between these paths, constitutive of both sub- and inter-personal levels.
the order-word assemblage
Television companies possess extremely precise technical knowledge about this boundary and respect it less as an ethical taboo than they fear it as that fine line which, when crossed, leaves the viewer at a sudden loss for a pretext for watching. Images of manhunts and murder can only be comprehended up to a certain point with concepts. Then, the camera eye insistently focused on the mob or the marauding military legitimizes itself as a duty of testimony, is declared information, moral appeal. That outrage over injustice can only be invoked by means of vivid imagery is a thesis that has been tirelessly repeated ever since the war images from Vietnam plunged the American public into turmoil. And after the Signal Corps of the American army systematically photographed the liberated concentration camps in order to coerce the German populace into acknowledging the facts, the documentary image became an authority of historical judgment. Photography alone can develop sufficient power of evidence to portray the inconceivable. Even when the images have become spent and the possibilities of digital manipulation have rendered that evidence relative: the public judgment on violence is decided through the image, which makes a kind of consensus on faraway terrors possible.
The documentary photographer thereby becomes a designer of political allegories. He has to transform horrible occurrences into pleasurable lucidity. The more his image's aesthetic brilliance absorbs the violence it contains, the more suitable it is for high-gloss print. Political documentary photographs are mannerist. It is their theatrical stylization alone that integrates them into the procession of consumable illustrations. Their dramatic density saves the viewer time, while the image itself signifies a summary of events. For this reason, the war photographs of the documentary artistes in the larger press agencies constitute the very opposite of a firsthand observation. They are always entire, sentence-long statements - and not the representative moments in the larger chains of events that the ideology of classical war coverage claimed them to be. They redirect the gaze to an aesthetic gesture, by means of which the documentary photographer distills a unique peculiarity from the terror. Rhetorical finesse thus enables one to overcome the horror. At the same time, a competition over the iconography of evidence arises, as though the most conclusive visual vocabulary offered proof of the most real horror, or as though the most credible evidence grew out of the most beautiful image.
John Julius Norwich described Belgian architect Victor Horta as "undoubtedly the key European Art Nouveau architect". Born in Ghent, he was first attracted to the architectural profession when he helped his uncle on a building site at the age of twelve. He studied in Ghent, but left to become an interior designer living in Montmartre in Paris. There, he was inspired by the emerging impressionist and pointillist artists, and also by the possibilities of working in steel and glass + By 1885, Horta was working on his own, and designed three houses which were built that year. He then decided to avoid residential work for wealthy clients and instead devoted himself to competitions for public work, including statuary and even tombs. He focused on the curvature of his designs, believing that the forms he produced were highly practical and not artistic affectations. During this period, Horta socialised widely and joined the freemasons. This ensured a stream of clients when he returned to designing housing and shops from 1893 + After Art Nouveau lost favor, many of Horta's buildings were destroyed, most notably the Maison du Peuple (1896-1909) built for the progressive political party, the Parti Ouvrier Belge and demolished in 1965. Four of his private houses (hôtels) were designated as a UNESCO World Heritage Site: Hôtel Tassel, Hôtel Solvay, Hôtel van Eetvelde & Maison and Atelier Horta (now the Horta Museum) + Belgian comic book artist & writer François Schuiten & Benoît Peeters restored the Maison Autrique + asteroid #2913-HORTA named in his honor.
"La frontera se mueve sin cesar, cambia tanto que se ha vuelto invisible…" —Mariscal Radisic
Nostalgia por los antiguos métodos, las arraigadas técnicas contraviniendo intereses políticos y una particular relación de amor por "los mapas" se puede ver en esta entrega de "Las ciudades oscuras". El leit motiv se encuentra en la cartografía y la necesidad de fijar límites, ya sea para ver hasta dónde podemos extender los reinos, hasta dónde alcanza nuestro mundo, nuestro poder y nuestros sueños. La historia comienza mostrándonos a Roland de Cremer, cartógrafo no titulado, llegando a la ciudad de Sodrovni, donde se encuentra el centro de cartografía de las ciudades oscuras, una cúpula de piedra, amarilla e inexpugnable en medio de un páramo sofocante, producto de ráfagas de viento cálido provenientes del desierto de los somonitas. "Lo que más me pesa es esta atmósfera confinada", piensa en un momento el protagonista, ilustrando así la situación de abandono del lugar.
Inexpugnable, decía, y de mayor dificultad aún el arribo para el protagonista, ya que paradójicamente, siendo estudiante de cartografía y proviniendo de una ilustre familia ligada a la actividad, goza de un pésimo sentido de orientación. En este álbum los autores vuelven a sumergirnos en su universo imaginario con gran virtud, creando atmósferas inquietantes tanto a nivel narrativo y visual. Llenando de detalles el relato, los que inevitablemente evocan de manera sutil aspectos reconocibles de la sociedad moderna. No en vano sus autores señalan: "ciertas ciudades son de otra parte con referencia explícita a ciudades que nosotros conocemos bien, cómo son el caso de Brüsel y Parhy".
Cito al comienzo del artículo al mariscal Radisic, personaje que representa a un político de las ciudades oscuras que llega a hacerse cargo del centro cartográfico, imponiendo un nuevo ritmo y visión. El mariscal pide acelerar los trabajos de tratamiento de datos y, de paso, limitar el trabajo de análisis: "¡Adiós a los mapas de precipitaciones, de caza y de cultivos!, ¡adiós a los mapas de rumores y de creencias!, ¡paso a los datos materiales, a los elementos más visibles!".