Category Archives: Visual

Exit: Moon. A Short Story About Staying With The Trouble

I spent two weeks in August at Planetary Futures, a summer school at Concordia University in Montreal organised by Orit Halpern, Marie-Pier Boucher, and Pierre Louis Patoine, and hosted at Milieux, the centre for art, technology, and culture at Concordia. The course made links between planetary scale catastrophe and the Anthropocene, and histories of infrastructure, colonialism, and investigated design and fiction as vehicles of speculation about the future(s). It brought

“together the disciplines of the arts, humanities, social sciences, and sciences to collectively investigate this question of how we shall inhabit the world in the face of the current ecological crisis and to rethink concepts and practices of environment, ecology, difference, and technology to envision, and create, a more just, sustainable, and diverse planet. The course will include field visits to extraction sites, energy infrastructures, earth science installations, and speculative architecture and design projects.”

Continue reading Exit: Moon. A Short Story About Staying With The Trouble

Past present: Revisiting the past through documentary

When you’re curating a program for yourself at an event or conference you’re often doing so consciously and conscientiously: there are things you need to see or attend for work, or for something new you need to wrap your head around. Then there are those times when it seems like you have no agenda except for entertainment and pleasure, which doesn’t mean, however, that your curated program is serendipitious or magical. This is what this week’s Berlinale is for me. I found myself curating one part of my program with some expected resonances: three films involving female protagonists reconstructing or re-discovering the past, and in doing so visit the unstable ground between, and in the creation of, fiction and non-fiction:

1. Kate plays Christine. Robert Greene. 2016.
In 1974 in Sarasota, Florida, a 29 year old newscaster, Christine Chubbuck, shot herself, fatally, on live TV. In 2015, an actress, Kate Lyn Sheil, prepares to recreate that moment and the film follows her journey.

2. A Magical Substance Flows Into Me. Jumana Manna. 2016
In the 1930s, Robert Lachmann, a German, had a radio show featuring “Oriental” i.e Palestinian music. In 2014, Jumana Manna, a Palestinian artist, travels around Israel and Palestine playing recordings from the old shows and recording contemporary versions. What do these songs sound like now when performed by Moroccan, Kurdish, or Yemenite Jews, by Samaritans, members of the urban and rural Palestinian communities, Bedouins and Coptic Christians?

3. The Watermelon Woman. Cheryl Dunye. 1996
Cheryl is a young black woman working at a video store. She becomes curious about black women playing stereotypical ‘mammys’ in films from the 1930s and 1940s. She sets out to discover one who is known only as the Watermelon Woman, a black lesbian actress who had an affair with a white woman director….

I’m excited to see them all and will be writing about them here..

Seeing/ Not seeing

Socialization is "the lifelong process of inheriting and disseminating norms, customs and ideologies provide an 
individual with the skills and habits necessary for participating within his or her own society. Socialization is
thus ‘the means by which social and cultural continuity are attained." The social internet socialises us, its users. 
It, us, teaches us new ways to be. 

Here is a somewhat new practice on social media, which has been written about: encouraging fellow 
social media users to not see something violent/violating because the act of sourcing and 
seeing is acknowledged as perpetuating that violence. After James Foley's and Steven Sotloff's murders,
internet users were saying of the videos circulating online: 'don't see it, don't look at it'; and, 
there were pictures of the journalists with their families, shared, possibly, to counter these videos. Their families, 
understandably, wanted their loved one to be remembered in a certain way, not as a headless body or as the victim of a
gruesome crime. Even as fact is being ruthlessly documented, there is a reactive counter-pressure to erase the facts. 

The same thing played out as personal photos of the actor Jennifer Lawrence were stolen and revealed. Social media saw some specific kinds 
of struggles over seeing and not seeing:
"this is the internet and this is how it works, so just deal with it… and take a look at how hot she is"; 
"seeing those pictures is abusive so be part of the solution, not the problem"; and another version of this:
"if she sent them to you, then you were meant to see those pictures, not otherwise"

How does this relate to the work of images in politics? It is a little like the visual equivalent of the right to be forgotten, 
or the peekaboo games that delight babies: if you can't see it, the violence isn't there any more, the violations 
don't hurt, it has been neutralised.

Just another post about the Abused Goddesses Campaign

The Abused Goddesses Campaign is creating waves ,  raising hackles (best exemplified by recent posts from Nisha Susan, Brinda Bose and Sayantani Dasgupta). Created by an advertising agency, Taproot, the campaign uses the images of (models dressed as) popular and much-loved Indian goddesses bearing the most telling signs of mortality – pain and hurt – and urges the viewer to consider that the only kind of woman free from the threat of violence is the divine kind and possibly not even them.

enhanced-buzz-26844-1378409278-4 enhanced-buzz-6833-1378409613-36

The conversation this campaign has generated is polarised; on the one hand you have Buzzfeed breathlessly declaring it ‘powerful’ and many agree; the viral sharing of the images on Twitter and Facebook are one indication of this. On the other, smaller, side, you have  people raising questions like:

– Why Hindu Goddesses? Not everyone in India relates to these images. We shouldn’t be using these images in a diverse and multicultural country

– Why must we be likened to goddesses in order to earn our rights as humans?

– Why these goddesses, we already have the image of the terrifying and terrible Kali who is violent and invincible.

– Hinduism has been interpreted to have practices and rituals that discriminate against women (this of course greatly upsets the Hindu Right and a champion, an academic, comes to the defense of Hinduism and the Right)

As you know, I’m the questioning kind, so you know where I sit. I’m writing this post in order to raise something that hasn’t so far in all the deconstruction: the visual itself. The Delhi Gang Rape has revealed some things about middle class, social media-enabled Indian: we’re data-illiterate, and don’t understand how government works and laws get made. I’m going to add another one: we are visually illiterate and don’t know how to read the visual. In particular, in this context, I don’t think the critics of this campaign have approached it as a visual campaign. This is the subject of this post.

Tactical Tech, where I work (there’s the disclaimer/plug) is going to officially launch our newest publication, Visualising Information for Advocacy which is all about how the visual works in advocacy, on October 1st, 2013.  The Abused Goddesses Campaign is a good example of what we would refer to as a ‘Get the Idea’ sort of campaign – one that uses strong and provocative imagery to inspire extreme emotions such as shock, suprise and anger or humour and laughter. These sorts of campaigns typically feature captivating and arresting images, very little data or nuance. As we say:

“If badly conceived or executed, it can alienate or insult an audience. But when it works, the effect of such a campaign can be significant: it can spread quickly across media, be talked about and rapidly bring attention to an issue. These kinds of images pass on tiny packets of information about the issue, referring only obliquely to what people commonly think of as evidence, rather than presenting it directly. As provocations, such images mostly work as routes leading into a wider campaign where further information about the issue can be found. They are often designed to appeal to people who have not yet been exposed to the issue or who don’t have a clear position.”

In this respect, I think the Abused Goddesses campaign works very well. I think it has got a lot of people’s attention because the creators of the campaign have very smartly chosen a provocative set of symbols to work with. In the print at the bottom of the poster (really have to zoom in online to see it) the designers say they intend to send out a strong message and I think they have. Whether I agree with the use of particular symbols is another matter, and I’m not the person tasked with creating an arresting campaign. This isn’t to challenge what people like Nisha and Brinda are saying – I think their deconstructions and critiques are much-needed and we only need to continue to challenge our readings and use of the visual. I think their analyses focus on the politics of representation rather than the deployment of the visual in advertising. There is a difference. Personally, I think that in a plural society we only need more kinds of visuals – annoying, bad ones and really great ones – and more conversations about why they work or don’t.