Graziano, Mars & Medak
Learning from #Syllabus
2019


ACTIONS

LEARNING FROM
#SYLLABUS
VALERIA GRAZIANO,
MARCELL MARS,
TOMISLAV MEDAK

115

116

STATE MACHINES

LEARNING FROM #SYLLABUS
VALERIA GRAZIANO, MARCELL MARS, TOMISLAV MEDAK
The syllabus is the manifesto of the 21st century.
—Sean Dockray and Benjamin Forster1
#Syllabus Struggles
In August 2014, Michael Brown, an 18-year-old boy living in Ferguson, Missouri,
was fatally shot by police officer Darren Wilson. Soon after, as the civil protests denouncing police brutality and institutional racism began to mount across the United
States, Dr. Marcia Chatelain, Associate Professor of History and African American
Studies at Georgetown University, launched an online call urging other academics
and teachers ‘to devote the first day of classes to a conversation about Ferguson’ and ‘to recommend texts, collaborate on conversation starters, and inspire
dialogue about some aspect of the Ferguson crisis.’2 Chatelain did so using the
hashtag #FergusonSyllabus.
Also in August 2014, using the hashtag #gamergate, groups of users on 4Chan,
8Chan, Twitter, and Reddit instigated a misogynistic harassment campaign against
game developers Zoë Quinn and Brianna Wu, media critic Anita Sarkeesian, as well as
a number of other female and feminist game producers, journalists, and critics. In the
following weeks, The New Inquiry editors and contributors compiled a reading list and
issued a call for suggestions for their ‘TNI Syllabus: Gaming and Feminism’.3
In June 2015, Donald Trump announced his candidacy for President of the United
States. In the weeks that followed, he became the presumptive Republican nominee,
and The Chronicle of Higher Education introduced the syllabus ‘Trump 101’.4 Historians N.D.B. Connolly and Keisha N. Blain found ‘Trump 101’ inadequate, ‘a mock college syllabus […] suffer[ing] from a number of egregious omissions and inaccuracies’,
failing to include ‘contributions of scholars of color and address the critical subjects
of Trump’s racism, sexism, and xenophobia’. They assembled ‘Trump Syllabus 2.0’.5
Soon after, in response to a video in which Trump engaged in ‘an extremely lewd
conversation about women’ with TV host Billy Bush, Laura Ciolkowski put together a
‘Rape Culture Syllabus’.6

1
2
3
4
5
6

Sean Dockray, Benjamin Forster, and Public Office, ‘README.md’, Hyperreadings, 15 February
2018, https://samiz-dat.github.io/hyperreadings/.
Marcia Chatelain, ‘Teaching the #FergusonSyllabus’, Dissent Magazine, 28 November 2014,
https://www.dissentmagazine.org/blog/teaching-ferguson-syllabus/.
‘TNI Syllabus: Gaming and Feminism’, The New Inquiry, 2 September 2014, https://thenewinquiry.
com/tni-syllabus-gaming-and-feminism/.
‘Trump 101’, The Chronicle of Higher Education, 19 June 2016, https://www.chronicle.com/article/
Trump-Syllabus/236824/.
N.D.B. Connolly and Keisha N. Blain, ‘Trump Syllabus 2.0’, Public Books, 28 June 2016, https://
www.publicbooks.org/trump-syllabus-2-0/.
Laura Ciolkowski, ‘Rape Culture Syllabus’, Public Books, 15 October 2016, https://www.
publicbooks.org/rape-culture-syllabus/.

ACTIONS

117

In April 2016, members of the Standing Rock Sioux tribe established the Sacred Stone
Camp and started the protest against the Dakota Access Pipeline, the construction of
which threatened the only water supply at the Standing Rock Reservation. The protest at the site of the pipeline became the largest gathering of native Americans in
the last 100 years and they earned significant international support for their ReZpect
Our Water campaign. As the struggle between protestors and the armed forces unfolded, a group of Indigenous scholars, activists, and supporters of the struggles of
First Nations people and persons of color, gathered under the name the NYC Stands
for Standing Rock Committee, put together #StandingRockSyllabus.7
The list of online syllabi created in response to political struggles has continued to
grow, and at present includes many more examples:
All Monuments Must Fall Syllabus
#Blkwomensyllabus
#BLMSyllabus
#BlackIslamSyllabus
#CharlestonSyllabus
#ColinKaepernickSyllabus
#ImmigrationSyllabus
Puerto Rico Syllabus (#PRSyllabus)
#SayHerNameSyllabus
Syllabus for White People to Educate Themselves
Syllabus: Women and Gender Non-Conforming People Writing about Tech
#WakandaSyllabus
What To Do Instead of Calling the Police: A Guide, A Syllabus, A Conversation, A
Process
#YourBaltimoreSyllabus
It would be hard to compile a comprehensive list of all the online syllabi that have
been created by social justice movements in the last five years, especially, but not
exclusively, those initiated in North America in the context of feminist and anti-racist
activism. In what is now a widely spread phenomenon, these political struggles use
social networks and resort to the hashtag template ‘#___Syllabus’ to issue calls for
the bottom-up aggregation of resources necessary for political analysis and pedagogy
centering on their concerns. For this reason, we’ll call this phenomenon ‘#Syllabus’.
During the same years that saw the spread of the #Syllabus phenomenon, university
course syllabi have also been transitioning online, often in a top-down process initiated
by academic institutions, which has seen the syllabus become a contested document
in the midst of increasing casualization of teaching labor, expansion of copyright protections, and technology-driven marketization of education.
In what follows, we retrace the development of the online syllabus in both of these
contexts, to investigate the politics enmeshed in this new media object. Our argument

7

‘#StandingRockSyllabus’, NYC Stands with Standing Rock, 11 October 2016, https://
nycstandswithstandingrock.wordpress.com/standingrocksyllabus/.

118

STATE MACHINES

is that, on the one hand, #Syllabus names the problem of contemporary political culture as pedagogical in nature, while, on the other hand, it also exposes academicized
critical pedagogy and intellectuality as insufficiently political in their relation to lived
social reality. Situating our own stakes as both activists and academics in the present
debate, we explore some ways in which the radical politics of #Syllabus could be supported to grow and develop as an articulation of solidarity between amateur librarians
and radical educators.
#Syllabus in Historical Context: Social Movements and Self-Education
When Professor Chatelain launched her call for #FergusonSyllabus, she was mainly
addressing a community of fellow educators:
I knew Ferguson would be a challenge for teachers: When schools opened across
the country, how were they going to talk about what happened? My idea was simple, but has resonated across the country: Reach out to the educators who use
Twitter. Ask them to commit to talking about Ferguson on the first day of classes.
Suggest a book, an article, a film, a song, a piece of artwork, or an assignment that
speaks to some aspect of Ferguson. Use the hashtag: #FergusonSyllabus.8
Her call had a much greater resonance than she had originally anticipated as it reached
beyond the limits of the academic community. #FergusonSyllabus had both a significant impact in shaping the analysis and the response to the shooting of Michael
Brown, and in inspiring the many other #Syllabus calls that soon followed.
The #Syllabus phenomenon comprises different approaches and modes of operating. In some cases, the material is clearly claimed as the creation of a single individual, as in the case of #BlackLivesMatterSyllabus, which is prefaced on the project’s
landing page by a warning to readers that ‘material compiled in this syllabus should
not be duplicated without proper citation and attribution.’9 A very different position on
intellectual property has been embraced by other #Syllabus interventions that have
chosen a more commoning stance. #StandingRockSyllabus, for instance, is introduced as a crowd-sourced process and as a useful ‘tool to access research usually
kept behind paywalls.’10
The different workflows, modes of engagements, and positioning in relation to
intellectual property make #Syllabus readable as symptomatic of the multiplicity
that composes social justice movements. There is something old school—quite
literally—about the idea of calling a list of online resources a ‘syllabus’; a certain
quaintness, evoking thoughts of teachers and homework. This is worthy of investigation especially if contrasted with the attention dedicated to other online cultural
phenomena such as memes or fake news. Could it be that the online syllabus offers

8

9
10

Marcia Chatelain, ‘How to Teach Kids About What’s Happening in Ferguson’, The Atlantic, 25
August 2014, https://www.theatlantic.com/education/archive/2014/08/how-to-teach-kids-aboutwhats-happening-in-ferguson/379049/.
Frank Leon Roberts, ‘Black Lives Matter: Race, Resistance, and Populist Protest’, 2016, http://
www.blacklivesmattersyllabus.com/fall2016/.
‘#StandingRockSyllabus’, NYC Stands with Standing Rock, 11 October 2016, https://
nycstandswithstandingrock.wordpress.com/standingrocksyllabus/.

ACTIONS

119

a useful, fresh format precisely for the characteristics that foreground its connections to older pedagogical traditions and techniques, predating digital cultures?
#Syllabus can indeed be analyzed as falling within a long lineage of pedagogical tools
created by social movements to support processes of political subjectivation and the
building of collective consciousness. Activists and militant organizers have time and
again created and used various textual media objects—such as handouts, pamphlets,
cookbooks, readers, or manifestos—to facilitate a shared political analysis and foment
mass political mobilization.
In the context of the US, anti-racist movements have historically placed great emphasis on critical pedagogy and self-education. In 1964, the Council of Federated Organizations (an alliance of civil rights initiatives) and the Student Nonviolent
Coordinating Committee (SNCC), created a network of 41 temporary alternative
schools in Mississippi. Recently, the Freedom Library Project, a campaign born out
of #FergusonSyllabus to finance under-resourced pedagogical initiatives, openly
referenced this as a source of inspiration. The Freedom Summer Project of 1964
brought hundreds of activists, students, and scholars (many of whom were white)
from the north of the country to teach topics and issues that the discriminatory
state schools would not offer to black students. In the words of an SNCC report,
Freedom Schools were established following the belief that ‘education—facts to
use and freedom to use them—is the basis of democracy’,11 a conviction echoed
by the ethos of contemporary #Syllabus initiatives.
Bob Moses, a civil rights movement leader who was the head of the literary skills initiative in Mississippi, recalls the movement’s interest, at the time, in teaching methods
that used the very production of teaching materials as a pedagogical tool:
I had gotten hold of a text and was using it with some adults […] and noticed that
they couldn’t handle it because the pictures weren’t suited to what they knew […]
That got me into thinking about developing something closer to what people were
doing. What I was interested in was the idea of training SNCC workers to develop
material with the people we were working with.12
It is significant that for him the actual use of the materials the group created was much
less important than the process of producing the teaching materials together. This focus
on what could be named as a ‘pedagogy of teaching’, or perhaps more accurately ‘the
pedagogy of preparing teaching materials’, is also a relevant mechanism at play in the
current #Syllabus initiatives, as their crowdsourcing encourages different kinds of people
to contribute what they feel might be relevant resources for the broader movement.
Alongside the crucial import of radical black organizing, another relevant genealogy in
which to place #Syllabus would be the international feminist movement and, in particular, the strategies developed in the 70s campaign Wages for Housework, spearheaded

11
12

Daniel Perlstein, ‘Teaching Freedom: SNCC and the Creation of the Mississippi Freedom Schools’,
History of Education Quarterly 30.3 (Autumn 1990): 302.
Perlstein, ‘Teaching Freedom’: 306.

120

STATE MACHINES

by Selma James and Silvia Federici. The Wages for Housework campaign drove home
the point that unwaged reproductive labor provides a foundation for capitalist exploitation. They wanted to encourage women to denaturalize and question the accepted
division of labor into remunerated work outside the house and labor of love within
the confines of domesticity, discussing taboo topics such as ‘prostitution as socialized housework’ and ‘forced sterilization’ as issues impacting poor, often racialized,
women. The organizing efforts of Wages for Housework held political pedagogy at their
core. They understood that that pedagogy required:
having literature and other materials available to explain our goals, all written in a
language that women can understand. We also need different types of documents,
some more theoretical, others circulating information about struggles. It is important
that we have documents for women who have never had any political experience.
This is why our priority is to write a popular pamphlet that we can distribute massively and for free—because women have no money.13
The obstacles faced by the Wages for Housework campaign were many, beginning
with the issue of how to reach a dispersed constituency of isolated housewives
and how to keep the revolutionary message at the core of their claims accessible
to different groups. In order to tackle these challenges, the organizers developed
a number of innovative communication tactics and pedagogical tools, including
strategies to gain mainstream media coverage, pamphlets and leaflets translated
into different languages,14 a storefront shop in Brooklyn, and promotional tables at
local events.
Freedom Schools and the Wages for Housework campaign are only two amongst
the many examples of the critical pedagogies developed within social movements.
The #Syllabus phenomenon clearly stands in the lineage of this history, yet we should
also highlight its specificity in relation to the contemporary political context in which it
emerged. The #Syllabus acknowledges that since the 70s—and also due to students’
participation in protests and their display of solidarity with other political movements—
subjects such as Marxist critical theory, women studies, gender studies, and African
American studies, together with some of the principles first developed in critical pedagogy, have become integrated into the educational system. The fact that many initiators of #Syllabus initiatives are women and Black academics speaks to this historical
shift as an achievement of that period of struggles. However, the very necessity felt by
these educators to kick-start their #Syllabus campaigns outside the confines of academia simultaneously reveals the difficulties they encounter within the current privatized and exclusionary educational complex.

13
14

Silvia Federici and Arlen Austin (eds) The New York Wages for Housework Committee 1972-1977:
History, Theory and Documents. New York: Autonomedia, 2017: 37.
Some of the flyers and pamphlets were digitized by MayDay Rooms, ‘a safe haven for historical
material linked to social movements, experimental culture and the radical expression of
marginalised figures and groups’ in London, and can be found in their online archive: ‘Wages
for Housework: Pamphlets – Flyers – Photographs’, MayDay Rooms, http://maydayrooms.org/
archives/wages-for-housework/wfhw-pamphlets-flyers-photographs/.

ACTIONS

121

#Syllabus as a Media Object
Besides its contextualization within the historical legacy of previous grassroots mobilizations, it is also necessary to discuss #Syllabus as a new media object in its own
right, in order to fully grasp its relevance for the future politics of knowledge production and transmission.
If we were to describe this object, a #Syllabus would be an ordered list of links to
scholarly texts, news reports, and audiovisual media, mostly aggregated through a
participatory and iterative process, and created in response to political events indicative of larger conditions of structural oppression. Still, as we have seen, #Syllabus
as a media object doesn’t follow a strict format. It varies based on the initial vision
of their initiators, political causes, and social composition of the relevant struggle.
Nor does it follow the format of traditional academic syllabi. While a list of learning
resources is at the heart of any syllabus, a boilerplate university syllabus typically
also includes objectives, a timetable, attendance, coursework, examination, and an
outline of the grading system used for the given course. Relieved of these institutional
requirements, the #Syllabus typically includes only a reading list and a hashtag. The
reading list provides resources for understanding what is relevant to the here and
now, while the hashtag provides a way to disseminate across social networks the call
to both collectively edit and teach what is relevant to the here and now. Both the list
and the hashtag are specificities and formal features of the contemporary (internet)
culture and therefore merit further exploration in relation to the social dynamics at
play in #Syllabus initiatives.
The different phases of the internet’s development approached the problem of the
discoverability of relevant information in different ways. In the early days, the Gopher
protocol organized information into a hierarchical file tree. With the rise of World Wide
Web (WWW), Yahoo tried to employ experts to classify and catalog the internet into
a directory of links. That seemed to be a successful approach for a while, but then
Google (founded in 1998) came along and started to use a webgraph of links to rank
the importance of web pages relative to a given search query.
In 2005, Clay Shirky wrote the essay ‘Ontology is Overrated: Categories, Links and
Tags’,15 developed from his earlier talk ‘Folksonomies and Tags: The Rise of User-Developed Classification’. Shirky used Yahoo’s attempt to categorize the WWW to argue
against any attempt to classify a vast heterogenous body of information into a single
hierarchical categorical system. In his words: ‘[Yahoo] missed [...] that, if you’ve got
enough links, you don’t need the hierarchy anymore. There is no shelf. There is no file
system. The links alone are enough.’ Those words resonated with many. By following
simple formatting rules, we, the internet users, whom Time magazine named Person of
the Year in 2006, proved that it is possible to collectively write the largest encyclopedia
ever. But, even beyond that, and as per Shirky’s argument, if enough of us organized
our own snippets of the vast body of the internet, we could replace old canons, hierarchies, and ontologies with folksonomies, social bookmarks, and (hash)tags.

15

Clay Shirky, ‘Ontology Is Overrated: Categories, Links, and Tags’, 2005, http://shirky.com/writings/
herecomeseverybody/ontology_overrated.html.

122

STATE MACHINES

Very few who lived through those times would have thought that only a few years later
most user-driven services would be acquired by a small number of successful companies and then be shut down. Or, that Google would decide not to include the biggest
hashtag-driven platform, Twitter, into its search index and that the search results on
its first page would only come from a handful of usual suspects: media conglomerates, Wikipedia, Facebook, LinkedIn, Amazon, Reddit, Quora. Or, that Twitter would
become the main channel for the racist, misogynist, fascist escapades of the President
of United States.
This internet folk naivety—stoked by an equally enthusiastic, venture-capital-backed
startup culture—was not just naivety. This was also a period of massive experimental
use of these emerging platforms. Therefore, this history would merit to be properly
revisited and researched. In this text, however, we can only hint to this history: to contextualize how the hashtag as a formalization initially emerged, and how with time the
user-driven web lost some of its potential. Nonetheless, hashtags today still succeed in
propagating political mobilizations in the network environment. Some will say that this
propagation is nothing but a reflection of the internet as a propaganda machine, and
there’s no denying that hashtags do serve a propaganda function. However, it equally
matters that hashtags retain the capacity to shape coordination and self-organization,
and they are therefore a reflection of the internet as an organization machine.
As mentioned, #Syllabus as a media object is an ordered list of links to resources.
In the long history of knowledge retrieval systems and attempts to help users find
relevant information from big archives, the list on the internet continues in the tradition of the index card catalog in libraries, of charts in the music industry, or mixtapes
and playlists in popular culture, helping people tell their stories of what is relevant and
what isn’t through an ordered sequence of items. The list (as a format) together with
the hashtag find themselves in the list (pun intended) of the most iconic media objects
of the internet. In the network media environment, being smart in creating new lists
became the way to displace old lists of relevance, the way to dismantle canons, the
way to unlearn. The way to become relevant.
The Academic Syllabus Migrates Online
#Syllabus interventions are a challenge issued by political struggles to educators as
they expose a fundamental contradiction in the operations of academia. While critical pedagogies of yesteryear’s social movements have become integrated into the
education system, the radical lessons that these pedagogies teach students don’t
easily reconcile with their experience: professional practice courses, the rethoric of
employability and compulsory internships, where what they learn is merely instrumental, leaves them wondering how on earth they are to apply their Marxism or feminism
to their everyday lives?
Cognitive dissonance is at the basis of degrees in the liberal arts. And to make things
worse, the marketization of higher education, the growing fees and the privatization
of research has placed universities in a position where they increasingly struggle to
provide institutional space for critical interventions in social reality. As universities become more dependent on the ‘customer satisfaction’ of their students for survival, they
steer away from heated political topics or from supporting faculty members who might
decide to engage with them. Borrowing the words of Stefano Harney and Fred Moten,

ACTIONS

123

‘policy posits curriculum against study’,16 creating the paradoxical situation wherein
today’s universities are places in which it is possible to do almost everything except
study. What Harney and Moten propose instead is the re-appropriation of the diffuse
capacity of knowledge generation that stems from the collective processes of selforganization and commoning. As Moten puts it: ‘When I think about the way we use the
term ‘study,’ I think we are committed to the idea that study is what you do with other
people.’17 And it is this practice of sharing a common repertoire—what Moten and
Harney call ‘rehearsal’18—that is crucially constitutive of a crowdsourced #Syllabus.
This contradiction and the tensions it brings to contemporary neoliberal academia can
be symptomatically observed in the recent evolution of the traditional academic syllabus. As a double consequence of (some) critical pedagogies becoming incorporated
into the teaching process and universities striving to reduce their liability risks, academic syllabi have become increasingly complex and extensive documents. They are
now understood as both a ‘social contract’ between the teachers and their students,
and ‘terms of service’19 between the institution providing educational services and the
students increasingly framed as sovereign consumers making choices in the market of
educational services. The growing official import of the syllabus has had the effect that
educators have started to reflect on how the syllabus translates the power dynamics
into their classroom. For instance, the critical pedagogue Adam Heidebrink-Bruno has
demanded that the syllabus be re-conceived as a manifesto20—a document making
these concerns explicit. And indeed, many academics have started to experiment with
the form and purpose of the syllabus, opening it up to a process of co-conceptualization with their students, or proposing ‘the other syllabus’21 to disrupt asymmetries.
At the same time, universities are unsurprisingly moving their syllabi online. A migration
that can be read as indicative of three larger structural shifts in academia.
First, the push to make syllabi available online, initiated in the US, reinforces the differential effects of reputation economy. It is the Ivy League universities and their professorial star system that can harness the syllabus to advertise the originality of their
scholarship, while the underfunded public universities and junior academics are burdened with teaching the required essentials. This practice is tied up with the replication
in academia of the different valorization between what is considered to be the labor of
production (research) and that of social reproduction (teaching). The low esteem (and
corresponding lower rewards and remuneration) for the kinds of intellectual labors that
can be considered labors of care—editing journals, reviewing papers or marking, for
instance—fits perfectly well with the gendered legacies of the academic institution.

Stefano Harney and Fred Moten, The Undercommons: Fugitive Planning & Black Study, New York:
Autonomedia, 2013, p. 81.
17 Harney and Moten, The Undercommons, p. 110.
18 Harney and Moten, The Undercommons, p. 110.
19 Angela Jenks, ‘It’s In The Syllabus’, Teaching Tools, Cultural Anthropology website, 30 June 2016,
https://culanth.org/fieldsights/910-it-s-in-the-syllabu/.
20 Adam Heidebrink-Bruno, ‘Syllabus as Manifesto: A Critical Approach to Classroom Culture’,
Hybrid Pedagogy, 28 August 2014, http://hybridpedagogy.org/syllabus-manifesto-criticalapproach-classroom-culture/.
21 Lucy E. Bailey, ‘The “Other” Syllabus: Rendering Teaching Politics Visible in the Graduate
Pedagogy Seminar’, Feminist Teacher 20.2 (2010): 139–56.
16

124

STATE MACHINES

Second, with the withdrawal of resources to pay precarious and casualized academics during their ‘prep’ time (that is, the time in which they can develop new
course material, including assembling new lists of references, updating their courses as well as the methodologies through which they might deliver these), syllabi
now assume an ambivalent role between the tendencies for collectivization and
individualization of insecurity. The reading lists contained in syllabi are not covered
by copyrights; they are like playlists or recipes, which historically had the effect of
encouraging educators to exchange lesson plans and make their course outlines
freely available as a valuable knowledge common. Yet, in the current climate where
universities compete against each other, the authorial function is being extended
to these materials too. Recently, US universities have been leading a trend towards
the interpretation of the syllabus as copyrightable material, an interpretation that
opened up, as would be expected, a number of debates over who is a syllabus’
rightful owner, whether the academics themselves or their employers. If the latter interpretation were to prevail, this would enable universities to easily replace
academics while retaining their contributions to the pedagogical offer. The fruits of
a teacher’s labor could thus be turned into instruments of their own deskilling and
casualization: why would universities pay someone to write a course when they can
recycle someone else’s syllabus and get a PhD student or a precarious post doc to
teach the same class at a fraction of the price?
This tendency to introduce a logic of property therefore spurs competitive individualism and erasure of contributions from others. Thus, crowdsourcing the syllabus
in the context of growing precarization of labor risks remaining a partial process,
as it might heighten the anxieties of those educators who do not enjoy the security
of a stable job and who are therefore the most susceptible to the false promises of
copyright enforcement and authorship understood as a competitive, small entrepreneurial activity. However, when inserted in the context of live, broader political
struggles, the opening up of the syllabus could and should be an encouragement
to go in the opposite direction, providing a ground to legitimize the collective nature
of the educational process and to make all academic resources available without
copyright restrictions, while devising ways to secure the proper attribution and the
just remuneration of everyone’s labor.
The introduction of the logic of property is hard to challenge as it is furthered by commercial academic publishers. Oligopolists, such as Elsevier, are not only notorious for
using copyright protections to extract usurious profits from the mostly free labor of
those who write, peer review, and edit academic journals,22 but they are now developing all sorts of metadata, metrics, and workflow systems that are increasingly becoming central for teaching and research. In addition to their publishing business, Elsevier
has expanded its ‘research intelligence’ offering, which now encompasses a whole
range of digital services, including the Scopus citation database; Mendeley reference
manager; the research performance analytics tools SciVal and Research Metrics; the
centralized research management system Pure; the institutional repository and pub-

22 Vincent Larivière, Stefanie Haustein, and Philippe Mongeon, ‘The Oligopoly of Academic
Publishers in the Digital Era’, PLoS ONE 10.6 (10 June 2015),https://journals.plos.org/plosone/
article?id=10.1371/journal.pone.0127502/.

ACTIONS

125

lishing platform Bepress; and, last but not least, grant discovery and funding flow tools
Funding Institutional and Elsevier Funding Solutions. Given how central digital services
are becoming in today’s universities, whoever owns these platforms is the university.
Third, the migration online of the academic syllabus falls into larger efforts by universities to ‘disrupt’ the educational system through digital technologies. The introduction
of virtual learning environments has led to lesson plans, slides, notes, and syllabi becoming items to be deposited with the institution. The doors of public higher education are being opened to commercial qualification providers by means of the rise in
metrics-based management, digital platforming of university services, and transformation of students into consumers empowered to make ‘real-time’ decisions on how to
spend their student debt.23 Such neoliberalization masquerading behind digitization
is nowhere more evident than in the hype that was generated around Massive Open
Online Courses (MOOCs), exactly at the height of the last economic crisis.
MOOCs developed gradually from the Massachusetts Institute of Techology’s (MIT) initial experiments with opening up its teaching materials to the public through the OpenCourseWare project in 2001. By 2011, MOOCs were saluted as a full-on democratization of access to ‘Ivy-League-caliber education [for] the world’s poor.’24 And yet, their
promise quickly deflated following extremely low completion rates (as low as 5%).25
Believing that in fifty years there will be no more than 10 institutions globally delivering
higher education,26 by the end of 2013 Sebastian Thrun (Google’s celebrated roboticist
who in 2012 founded the for-profit MOOC platform Udacity), had to admit that Udacity
offered a ‘lousy product’ that proved to be a total failure with ‘students from difficult
neighborhoods, without good access to computers, and with all kinds of challenges in
their lives.’27 Critic Aaron Bady has thus rightfully argued that:
[MOOCs] demonstrate what the technology is not good at: accreditation and mass
education. The MOOC rewards self-directed learners who have the resources and
privilege that allow them to pursue learning for its own sake [...] MOOCs are also a
really poor way to make educational resources available to underserved and underprivileged communities, which has been the historical mission of public education.28
Indeed, the ‘historical mission of public education’ was always and remains to this
day highly contested terrain—the very idea of a public good being under attack by
dominant managerial techniques that try to redefine it, driving what Randy Martin

23 Ben Williamson, ‘Number Crunching: Transforming Higher Education into “Performance Data”’,
Medium, 16 August 2018, https://medium.com/ussbriefs/number-crunching-transforming-highereducation-into-performance-data-9c23debc4cf7.
24 Max Chafkin, ‘Udacity’s Sebastian Thrun, Godfather Of Free Online Education, Changes Course’,
FastCompany, 14 November 2013, https://www.fastcompany.com/3021473/udacity-sebastianthrun-uphill-climb/.
25 ‘The Rise (and Fall?) Of the MOOC’, Oxbridge Essays, 14 November 2017, https://www.
oxbridgeessays.com/blog/rise-fall-mooc/.
26 Steven Leckart, ‘The Stanford Education Experiment Could Change Higher Learning Forever’,
Wired, 20 March 2012, https://www.wired.com/2012/03/ff_aiclass/.
27 Chafkin, ‘Udacity’s Sebastian Thrun’.
28 Aaron Bady, ‘The MOOC Moment and the End of Reform’, Liberal Education 99.4 (Fall 2013),
https://www.aacu.org/publications-research/periodicals/mooc-moment-and-end-reform.

126

STATE MACHINES

aptly called the ‘financialization of daily life.’29 The failure of MOOCs finally points to a
broader question, also impacting the vicissitudes of #Syllabus: Where will actual study
practices find refuge in the social, once the social is made directly productive for capital at all times? Where will study actually ‘take place’, in the literal sense of the phrase,
claiming the resources that it needs for co-creation in terms of time, labor, and love?
Learning from #Syllabus
What have we learned from the #Syllabus phenomenon?
The syllabus is the manifesto of 21st century.
Political struggles against structural discrimination, oppression, and violence in the
present are continuing the legacy of critical pedagogies of earlier social movements
that coupled the process of political subjectivation with that of collective education.
By creating effective pedagogical tools, movements have brought educators and students into the fold of their struggles. In the context of our new network environment,
political struggles have produced a new media object: #Syllabus, a crowdsourced list
of resources—historic and present—relevant to a cause. By doing so, these struggles
adapt, resist, and live in and against the networks dominated by techno-capital, with
all of the difficulties and contradictions that entails.
What have we learned from the academic syllabus migrating online?
In the contemporary university, critical pedagogy is clashing head-on with the digitization of higher education. Education that should empower and research that should
emancipate are increasingly left out in the cold due to the data-driven marketization
of academia, short-cutting the goals of teaching and research to satisfy the fluctuating demands of labor market and financial speculation. Resistance against the capture of data, research workflows, and scholarship by means of digitization is a key
struggle for the future of mass intellectuality beyond exclusions of class, disability,
gender, and race.
What have we learned from #Syllabus as a media object?
As old formats transform into new media objects, the digital network environment defines the conditions in which these new media objects try to adjust, resist, and live. A
right intuition can intervene and change the landscape—not necessarily for the good,
particularly if the imperatives of capital accumulation and social control prevail. We
thus need to re-appropriate the process of production and distribution of #Syllabus
as a media object in its totality. We need to build tools to collectively control the workflows that are becoming the infrastructures on top of which we collaboratively produce
knowledge that is vital for us to adjust, resist, and live. In order to successfully intervene in the world, every aspect of production and distribution of these new media objects becomes relevant. Every single aspect counts. The order of items in a list counts.
The timestamp of every version of the list counts. The name of every contributor to

29 Randy Martin, Financialization Of Daily Life, Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 2002.

ACTIONS

127

every version of the list counts. Furthermore, the workflow to keep track of all of these
aspects is another complex media object—a software tool of its own—with its own order and its own versions. It is a recursive process of creating an autonomous ecology.
#Syllabus can be conceived as a recursive process of versioning lists, pointing to textual, audiovisual, or other resources. With all of the linked resources publicly accessible to all; with all versions of the lists editable by all; with all of the edits attributable to
their contributors; with all versions, all linked resources, all attributions preservable by
all, just such an autonomous ecology can be made for #Syllabus. In fact, Sean Dockray, Benjamin Forster, and Public Office have already proposed such a methodology in
their Hyperreadings, a forkable readme.md plaintext document on GitHub. They write:
A text that by its nature points to other texts, the syllabus is already a relational
document acknowledging its own position within a living field of knowledge. It is
decidedly not self-contained, however it often circulates as if it were.
If a syllabus circulated as a HyperReadings document, then it could point directly to the texts and other media that it aggregates. But just as easily as it circulates, a HyperReadings syllabus could be forked into new versions: the syllabus
is changed because there is a new essay out, or because of a political disagreement, or because following the syllabus produced new suggestions. These forks
become a family tree where one can follow branches and trace epistemological
mutations.30
It is in line with this vision, which we share with the HyperReadings crew, and in line
with our analysis, that we, as amateur librarians, activists, and educators, make our
promise beyond the limits of this text.
The workflow that we are bootstrapping here will keep in mind every aspect of the media object syllabus (order, timestamp, contributor, version changes), allowing diversity
via forking and branching, and making sure that every reference listed in a syllabus
will find its reference in a catalog which will lead to the actual material, in digital form,
needed for the syllabus.
Against the enclosures of copyright, we will continue building shadow libraries and
archives of struggles, providing access to resources needed for the collective processes of education.
Against the corporate platforming of workflows and metadata, we will work with social
movements, political initiatives, educators, and researchers to aggregate, annotate,
version, and preserve lists of resources.
Against the extractivism of academia, we will take care of the material conditions that
are needed for such collective thinking to take place, both on- and offline.

30 Sean Dockray, Benjamin Forster, and Public Office, ‘README.md’, Hyperreadings, 15 February
2018, https://samiz-dat.github.io/hyperreadings/.

128

STATE MACHINES

Bibliography
Bady, Aaron. ‘The MOOC Moment and the End of Reform’, Liberal Education 99.4 (Fall 2013), https://
www.aacu.org/publications-research/periodicals/mooc-moment-and-end-reform/.
Bailey, Lucy E. ‘The “Other” Syllabus: Rendering Teaching Politics Visible in the Graduate Pedagogy
Seminar’, Feminist Teacher 20.2 (2010): 139–56.
Chafkin, Max. ‘Udacity’s Sebastian Thrun, Godfather Of Free Online Education, Changes Course’,
FastCompany, 14 November 2013, https://www.fastcompany.com/3021473/udacity-sebastianthrun-uphill-climb/.
Chatelain, Marcia. ‘How to Teach Kids About What’s Happening in Ferguson’, The Atlantic, 25 August
2014, https://www.theatlantic.com/education/archive/2014/08/how-to-teach-kids-about-whatshappening-in-ferguson/379049/.
_____. ‘Teaching the #FergusonSyllabus’, Dissent Magazine, 28 November 2014, https://www.dissentmagazine.org/blog/teaching-ferguson-syllabus/.
Ciolkowski, Laura. ‘Rape Culture Syllabus’, Public Books, 15 October 2016, https://www.publicbooks.
org/rape-culture-syllabus/.
Connolly, N.D.B. and Keisha N. Blain. ‘Trump Syllabus 2.0’, Public Books, 28 June 2016, https://www.
publicbooks.org/trump-syllabus-2-0/.
Dockray, Sean, Benjamin Forster, and Public Office. ‘README.md’, HyperReadings, 15 February 2018,
https://samiz-dat.github.io/hyperreadings/.
Federici, Silvia, and Arlen Austin (eds) The New York Wages for Housework Committee 1972-1977: History, Theory, Documents, New York: Autonomedia, 2017.
Harney, Stefano, and Fred Moten, The Undercommons: Fugitive Planning & Black Study, New York:
Autonomedia, 2013.
Heidebrink-Bruno, Adam. ‘Syllabus as Manifesto: A Critical Approach to Classroom Culture’, Hybrid
Pedagogy, 28 August 2014, http://hybridpedagogy.org/syllabus-manifesto-critical-approach-classroom-culture/.
Jenks, Angela. ‘It’s In The Syllabus’, Teaching Tools, Cultural Anthropology website, 30 June 2016,
https://culanth.org/fieldsights/910-it-s-in-the-syllabus/.
Larivière, Vincent, Stefanie Haustein, and Philippe Mongeon, ‘The Oligopoly of Academic Publishers in the Digital Era’, PLoS ONE 10.6 (10 June 2015), https://journals.plos.org/plosone/
article?id=10.1371/journal.pone.0127502/.
Leckart, Steven. ‘The Stanford Education Experiment Could Change Higher Learning Forever’, Wired,
20 March 2012, https://www.wired.com/2012/03/ff_aiclass/.
Martin, Randy. Financialization Of Daily Life, Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 2002.
Perlstein, Daniel. ‘Teaching Freedom: SNCC and the Creation of the Mississippi Freedom Schools’,
History of Education Quarterly 30.3 (Autumn 1990).
Roberts, Frank Leon. ‘Black Lives Matter: Race, Resistance, and Populist Protest’, 2016, http://www.
blacklivesmattersyllabus.com/fall2016/.
‘#StandingRockSyllabus’, NYC Stands with Standing Rock, 11 October 2016, https://nycstandswithstandingrock.wordpress.com/standingrocksyllabus/.
Shirky, Clay. ‘Ontology Is Overrated: Categories, Links, and Tags’, 2005, http://shirky.com/writings/
herecomeseverybody/ontology_overrated.html.
‘The Rise (and Fall?) Of the MOOC’, Oxbridge Essays, 14 November 2017, https://www.oxbridgeessays.
com/blog/rise-fall-mooc/.
‘TNI Syllabus: Gaming and Feminism’, The New Inquiry, 2 September 2014, https://thenewinquiry.com/
tni-syllabus-gaming-and-feminism/.
‘Trump 101’, The Chronicle of Higher Education, 19 June 2016, https://www.chronicle.com/article/
Trump-Syllabus/236824/.
‘Wages for Housework: Pamphlets – Flyers – Photographs,’ MayDay Rooms, http://maydayrooms.org/
archives/wages-for-housework/wfhw-pamphlets-flyers-photographs/.
Williamson, Ben. ‘Number Crunching: Transforming Higher Education into “Performance Data”’,
Medium, 16 August 2018, https://medium.com/ussbriefs/number-crunching-transforming-highereducation-into-performance-data-9c23debc4cf7/.


Constant
Tracks in Electronic fields
2009


figure 3 Dmytri Kleiner: Web 2.0
is a business model, it capitalises
on community created values.

figure 1 E-traces: In the reductive
world of Web 2.0 there are no
insignificant actors because once
added up, everybody counts.

figure 4 Christophe Lazaro:
Sociologists and anthropologists
are trying to stick the notion of
‘social network' to the specificities
of digital networks, that is to say
to their horizontal character

figure 2

1

1

1

2

2

figure 5 The Robot Syndicat:
Destined to survive collectively
through multi-agent systems
and colonies of social robots

figure 6

figure 11

figure 7
figure 9

figure 8

figure 10

2

2

2

3

3

figure 12
Destination port:
Every single passing
of a visitor triggers
the projection of
a simultaneous
registration

figure 15

figure 18

figure 16

figure 13

figure 17

figure 19
Doppelgänger: The
electronic double
(duplicate, twin) in
a society of control
and surveillance

figure 14

3

3

3

4

4

figure 20 CookieSensus: Cookies
found on washingtonpost.com

figure 22 Image Tracer: Images
and data accumulate into layers as
the query is repeated over time

figure 21 ... and
cookies sent by tacodo.net
figure 23 Shmoogle: In one click,
Google hierarchy crumbles down

4

4

4

5

5

figure 24 Jussa
Parrikka: We move
onto a baroque world,
a mode of folding
and enveloping new
ways of perception
and movement

figure 25

figure 26 Extended Speakers: A
netting of thin metal wires suspends
from the ceiling of the haunted
house in the La Bellone courtyard

figure 28

figure 27

figure 29

figure 30

5

5

5

6

6

figure 31

figure 32

figure 33

figure 34

figure 35

figure 38

figure 41

figure 44

figure 47

figure 36

figure 39

figure 42

figure 45

figure 48

figure 37

figure 40

figure 43

figure 46

figure 49

6

6

6

7

7

figure 50

figure 55

figure 60

figure 65

figure 70

figure 75

figure 51

figure 56

figure 61

figure 66

figure 71

figure 76

figure 52

figure 57

figure 62

figure 67

figure 72

figure 77

figure 53

figure 58

figure 63

figure 68

figure 73

figure 78

figure 54

figure 59

figure 64

figure 69

figure 74

figure 79

7

7

7

8

8

figure 80 Elgaland-Vargaland:
Since November 2007, the Embassy
permanently resides in La Bellone

figure 81 Ambassadors Yves
Poliart and Wendy Van Wynsberghe

figure 85

figure 82
figure 84

figure 86
figure 83

8

8

8

9

9

figure 87 It could be the
result of psychic echoes from
the past, psychokinesis, or the
thoughts of aliens or nature spirits

figure 89 Manu
Luksch: Our
digital selves are
many dimensional,
alert, unforgetting

figure 88

figure 91

figure 93

figure 92

figure 94

figure 90

9

9

9

10

10

figure 95

figure 97

figure 96

figure 99

figure 98

10

10

10

11

11

figure 100

figure 101

figure 103
Audio-geographic
dérive: Listening to
the electro-magnetic
spectrum of Brussels

figure 106

figure 107

figure 102

figure 104

figure 108

figure 110

figure 105

figure 112

figure 111

figure 109

11

11

11

12

12

figure 113 Michael Murtaugh:
Rather than talking about
leaning forward or backward,
a more useful split might be
between reading and writing

figure 114

figure 117
figure 115 Adrian
Mackenzie: This
opacity reflects the
sheer number of
operations that have
to be compressed
into code ...

figure 116 ... in
order for digital signal
processing to work

figure 118

12

12

12

13

13

figure 119 Sabine Prokhoris and
Simon Hecquet: What happens
precisely when one decides to
consider these margins, these
‘supplementen', as fullgrown
creations – slave, nor attachment?

figure 120 Praticable:
Making the body as a locus of
knowledge production tangible

figure 121

figure 123

figure 122

figure 124

figure 125

13

13

13

14

14

figure 126 Mutual
Motions Video Library:
A physical exchange
between existing
imagery, real-time
interpretation,
experiences
and context

figure 129

figure 130

figure 127 Modern
Times: His gestures
are burlesque responses
to the adversity
in his life, or just
plain ‘exuberant'

figure 131 Michael
Terry: We really
want to have lots of
people looking at it,
and considering it,
and thinking about
the implications

figure 128

figure 132

figure 133 Görkem
Çetin: There's a lack of
usability bug reporting
tool which can be
used to submit, store,
modify and maintain
user submitted videos,
audio files and pictures

figure 134 Simon
Yuill: It is here
where contingency
and notation meet,
but it is here also
that error enters

14

14

14

15

15

figure 135

figure 141
figure 138

figure 136

figure 139

figure 137

figure 140

15

15

15

16

16

figure 144 Séverine Dusollier:
I think amongst many of the
movements that are made, most are
not ‘a work', they are subconscious
movements, movements that
are translations of gestures that
are simply banal or necessary

figure 142

figure 145

figure 143

16

16

16

17

17

figure 146 Sadie Plant: It is
this kind of deep collectivity,
this profound sense of
micro-collaboration, which
has often been tapped into

17

17

17

18

18

18

18

18

19

19

Verbindingen/Jonctions 10
EN
NL
FR

Tracks in electr(on)ic fields

19

19

19

20

20

Introduction
E-Traces

25

EN, NL, FR

35

EN, NL, FR

Nicolas Malevé, Michel Cleempoel
E-traces en contexte NL, FR

38

Dmytri Kleiner, Brian Wyrick
InfoEnclosure 2.0 NL

47

Christophe Lazaro

58

Marc Wathieu

65

Michel Cleempoel
Destination port
Métamorphoz
Doppelgänger
Andrea fiore
Cookiesensus

FR

70

EN, NL, FR

71

FR, NL, EN

73

EN

Tsila Hassine
Shmoogle and Tracer

EN

Jussi Parikka
Insects, Affects and Imagining New
Sensoriums EN

75
77

81

20

20

20

21

21

Pierre Berthet
Concert with various extended objects

EN, NL, FR

93

Leiff Elgren, CM von Hausswolff
Elgaland-Vargaland EN, NL, FR

95

CM von Hausswolff, Guy-Marc Hinant
Ghost Machinery EN, NL

98

Read Feel Feed Real

101

EN, NL, FR

Manu Luksch, Mukul Patel
Faceless: Chasing the Data Shadow

EN

104

Julien Ottavi
Electromagnetic spectrum Research code
0608 FR

119

Michael Murtaugh
Active Archives or: What's wrong with the
YouTube documentary? EN

131


EN, NL, FR

Femke Snelting

NL

139
143

Adrian Mackenzie
Centres of envelopment and intensive
movement in digital signal processing EN

155

Elpueblodechina
El Curanto EN

174

21

21

21

22

22

Alice Chauchat, Frédéric Gies

181

Dance (notation)

184

EN

Sabine Prokhoris, Simon Hecquet
Mutual Motions Video Library

188
198

EN, NL, FR

Inès Rabadan
Does the repetition of a gesture irrevocably
lead to madness?

215

Michael Terry (interview)
Data analysis as a discourse

217

EN

233

254

Sadie Plant
A Situated Report

275

Biographies

EN

287

EN, NL, FR

License register

311

Vocabulary

313

22

22

22

23

23

The Making-of

323

EN

Colophon

331

23

23

23

24

24

24

24

24

25

25

EN

Introduction

25

25

25

26

26


29

EN

Traces in electr(on)ic fields documents the 10 th edition
of Verbindingen/Jonctions with the same name, a bi-annual multidisciplinary festival organised by Constant, association for arts and media. It is a meeting point for a
diverse public that from an artistic, activist and / or theoretical perspective is interested in experimental reflections
on technological culture.
Not for the first time, but during this edition more explicit than ever, we put the question of the interaction
between body and technology on the table. How to think
about the actual effects of surveillance, the ubiquitous presence of cameras and public safety procedures that can only
regard individuals as an amalgamate of analysable data?
What is the status of ‘identity' when it appears both elusive and unchangeable? How are we conditioned by the
technology we use? What is the relationship between commitment and reward? flexibility of work and healthy life?
Which traces does technology leave in our thinking, behavior, our routine movements? And what residue do we
leave behind ourselves on electr(on)ic fields through our
presence in forums, social platforms, databases, log files?
The dual nature of the term ‘notation' formed an important source of inspiration. Systems that choreographers,
composers and computer programmers use to record ideas
and observations, can then be interpreted as instruction,
as a command which puts an actor, software, performing artist or machine in to motion. From punch card to
musical scale, from programming language to Laban notation, we were interested in the standards and protocols
needed to make such documents work. It was the reason
29

29

29

30

30

to organise the festival inside the documentation, library
and workshop for theater and dance, ‘maison du spectacle'
La Bellone. Located in the heart of Brussels, La Bellone
offered hospitality to a diverse group of thinkers, dancers,
artists, programmers, interface designers and others and
its meticulously renovated 17th century façade formed the
perfect backdrop for this intense program.
Throughout the festival we worked with a number of
themes, not meant to isolate areas of thinking, but rather
as ‘spider threads' interlinking various projects:
E-traces (p. 35) subjected the current reality of Web 2.0
to a number of critical considerations. How do we regain
control of the abundant data correlation that mega-companies such as Google and Yahoo produce, in exchange for
our usage of their services? How do we understand ‘service' when we are confronted with their corporate Janus
face: one a friendly interface, the other Machiavellian
user licenses?
Around us, magnetic fields resonate unseen waves (p.
77) took the ghostly presence of technology as a starting
point and Read Feel Feed Real (p. 101) listened to unheard
sounds and looked behind the curtains in Do-It-Yourself,
walks and urban interventions. Through the analysis of radio waves and their use in artistic installations, by making
electro-magnetic fields heard, we made unexplained phenomena tangible.
As machines learn about bodies, bodies learn about machines and the movements that emerge as a result, are
not readily reduced to cause and effect. Mutual movements (p. 139) started in the kitchen, the perfect place to
30

30

30

31

31

reconsider human-machine configurations, without having
to separate these from everyday life and the patterns that
are ingrained in it. Would a different idea of ‘user' also
change our approach to ‘use'?
At the end of the adventure Sadie Plant remarked in
her ‘situated report' on Tracks in electr(on)ic fields (p.
275): “It is ultimately very difficult to distinguish between
the user and the developer, or the expert and the amateur. The experiment, the research, the development is
always happening in the kitchen, in the bedroom, on the
bus, using your mobile or using your computer. (...) this
sense of repetitive activity, which is done in many trades
and many lines, and that really is the deep unconscious
history of human activity. And arguably that's where the
most interesting developments happen, albeit in a very unsung, unseen, often almost hidden way. It is this kind of
deep collectivity, this profound sense of micro-collaboration, which has often been tapped into.”
Constant, October 2009

34

34

35

35

EN

E-Traces

35

35

35

36

36

How does the information we seize in search engines
circulate, what happens to our data entered in social networking sites, health records, news sites, forums and chat
services we use? Who is interested? How does the ‘market' of the electronic profile function? These questions
constitute the framework of the E-traces project.
For this, we started to work on Yoogle!, an online game.
This game, still in an early phase of development, will allow users to play with the parameters of the Web 2.0 economy and to exchange roles between the different actors
of this economy. We presented a first demo of this game,
accompanied by a public discussion with lawyers, artists
and developers. The discussion and lecture were meant
to analyse more deeply the mechanism of the economy
behind its friendly interface, the speculation on profiling,
the exploitation of free labor, but also to develop further
the scenario of the game.

EN

NL

36

36

36

37

37

47

DMYTRI KLEINER, BRIAN WYRICK
License: Dmytri Kleiner & Brian Wyrick, 2007. Anti-Copyright. Use as desired in whole or in part. Independent or collective commercial use encouraged. Attribution optional.
Text first published in English in Mute: http://www.metamute.org/InfoEnclosure-2.0. For translations in
Polish and Portuguese, see http://www.telekommunisten.net

figure 3
Dmytri
Kleiner


MICHEL CLEEMPOEL
License: Free Art License
figure 12
Every single
passing of
a visitor
triggered the
projection
of a
simultaneous
registration

figure 14

EN

Destination port
During the Jonctions festival, Destination port registered the flux
of visitors in the entrance hall of La Bellone. Every single passing
of a visitor triggered the projection of a simultaneous registration
in the hall, and this in superposition with formerly captured images
of visitors, thus creating temporary and unlikely encounters between
persons.

Doppelgänger
Born in September 2001, represented here by Valérie Cordy et
Natalia De Mello, the MéTAmorphoZ collective is a multidisciplinary
association that create installations, spectacles and transdisciplinary
performances that mix artistic experiments and digital practices.
With the project Doppelganger, the collective MéTAmorphoZ focuses on the thematic of the electronic double(duplicate, twin) in a
society of control and surveillance.
“Our electronic identity, symbol of this new society of control,
duplicates our organic and social identity. But this legal obligation
to be assigned a unique, stable and unforgeable identity isn't, in the
end, a danger for our fundamental freedom to claim identitites which
are irreducibly multiple for each of us?”
72

72

72

73

73

ANDREA fiORE
License: Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike
EN

Cookiecensus
Although still largely perceived as a private activity, web surfing
leaves persistent trails. While users browse and interact through the
web, sites watch them read, write, chat and buy. Even on the basis
of a few basic web publishing experiences one can conclude that most
web servers record ‘by default' their entire clickstream in persistent
‘log' files.
‘Web cookies' are sort of digital labels sent by websites to web
browsers in order to assign them a unique identity and automatically
recognize their users over several visits. Today, this technology, which
was introduced with the first version of the Netscape browser in 1994,
constitutes the de facto standard upon which a wide range of interactive functionalities are built that were not conceived by the early web
protocol design. Think, for example, of user accounts and authentications, personalized content and layouts, e-commerce and shopping
charts.
While it has undeniably contributed to the development and the
social spread of the new medium, web cookie technology is still to
be considered as problematic. Especially the so-called ‘third party
cookies' issue – a technological loophole enabling marketeers and advertisement firms to invisibly track users over large networks of syndicated websites – has been the object of a serious controversy, involving
a varied set of actors and stakeholders.
Cookiecensus is a software prototype. A wannabe info tool for
studying electronic surveillance in one of its natively digital environments. Its core functionality consists of mapping and analyzing third
party's cookies distribution patterns within a given web, in order to
identify its trackers and its network of syndicated sites. A further
feature of the tool is the possibility to inspect the content of a web
page in relation to its third party cookie sources.

figure 20
Cookies
found on
Washingtonpost.com

figure 21
Cookies
sent by
Tacodo.net

73

73

73

74

74

It is an attempt to deconstruct the perceived unity and consistency
of web pages by making their underlying content assemblage and their
related attention flows visible.

74

74

74

75

75

TSILA HASSINE
License: Free Art License
EN

Shmoogle and Tracer
What is Shmoogle? Shmoogle is a Google randomizer. In one
click, Google hierarchy crumbles down. Results that were usually exiled to pages beyond user attention get their ‘15 seconds of PageRank
fame'. While also being a useful tool for internet research, Shmoogle
is a comment, a constant reminder that the Google order is not necessarily ‘the good order', and that sometimes chaos is more revealing
than order. While Google serves the users with information ready for
immediate consumption, Shmoogle forces its users to scroll down and
make their own choices. If Google is a search engine, then Shmoogle
is a research engine.

figure 22
Images
and data
accumulate
into layers
as the query
is repeated
over time

figure 23 In
one click,
Google
hierarchy
crumbles
down

In Image Tracer, order is important. Image Tracer is a collaboration between artist group De Geuzen and myself. Tracer was born
out of our mutual interest in the traces images leave behind them on
their networked paths. In Tracer images and data accumulate into
layers as the query is repeated over time. Boundaries between image
and data are blurred further as the image is deliberately reduced to
thumbnail size, and emphasis is placed on the image's context, the
neighbouring images, and the metadata related to that image. Image Tracer builds up an archive of juxtaposed snapshots of the web.
As these layers accumulate, patterns and processes reveal themselves,
and trace a historiography in the making.

75

75

75

76

76

76

76

76

77

77

EN

NL

FR

Around us, magnetic fields resonate
unseen waves
Om ons heen resoneren ongeziene
golven
Autour de nous, les champs
magnétiques font résonner des ondes
invisibles

77

77

77

78

78

In computer terminology many words refer to chimerical images such as bots, demons and ghosts. Dr. Konstantin Raudive, a Latvian psychologist, and Swedish film
producer Friedrich Jurgenson went a step further and explored the territory of the Electric Voice phenomena. Electronic voice phenomena (EVP) are speech or speech-like
sounds that can be heard on electronic devices that were
not present at the time the recording was made. Some
believe these could be of paranormal origin.
For this part of the V/J10 programme, we chose a
metaphorical approach, working with bodiless entities and
hidden processes, finding inspiration in The Embassy of
Elgaland-Vargaland, semi-fictional kingdoms, consisting
of all Border Territories (Geographical, Mental & Digital). These kingdoms were founded by Leiff Elgren and
CM Von Hausswolff. Elgren stated that: “All dead people
are inhabitants of the country Elgaland-Vargaland, unless
they stated that they did not want to be an inhabitant”.


JUSSI PARIKKA
License: Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike
EN

Insects, Affects and Imagining New Sensoriums

figure 24
Jussa
Parrikka
at V/J10

A Media Archaeological Rewiring
from Geniuses to Animals
An insect media artist or a media archaeologist imagining a potential weird medium might end up with something that sounds quite
mundane to us humans. For the insect probe head, the question of
what it feels like to perceive with two eyes and ears and move with two
legs would be a novel one, instead of the multiple legs and compound
eyes that it has to use to manoeuvre through space. The uncanny
formations often used in science fiction to describe something radically inhuman (like the killing machine insects of Alien movies) differ
from the human being in their anatomy, behaviour and morals. The
human brain might be a much more effcient problem solver and the
human hands are quite handy tool making metatools, and the human
body could be seen as an original form of any model of technics, as
Ernst Kapp already suggested by the end of the 19 th century. But
still, such realisations do not take away the fascination that emerges
from the question of what would it be like to move, perceive and think
differently; what does a becoming-animal entail.
I am of course taking my cue here from the philosopher Manuel DeLanda who in his 1991 book War in the Age of Intelligent Machines,
asked what would the history of warfare look like from the viewpoint
of a future robot historian? An exercise perhaps in creative imagination, DeLanda's question also served other ends relating to physics of
self-organization. My point is not to discuss DeLanda, or the history
of war machines, but I want to pick an idea from this kind of an
approach, an idea that could be integrated into media archaeological considerations, concerning actual or imaginary media. As already
said, imagining alternative worlds is not the endpoint of this exercise
81

81

81

82

82

in ‘insect media', but a way to dip into an alternative understanding
of media and technology, where such general categories as ‘humans'
and ‘machines' are merely the endpoints of intensive flows, capacities, tendencies and functions. Such a stance takes much of its force
from Gilles Deleuze's philosophical ontology of abstract materialism,
which focuses primarily on a Spinozian ontology of intensities, capacities and functions. In this sense, the human being is not a distinct
being in the world with secondary qualities, but a “capacity to signify, exchange, and communicate”, as Claire Colebrook has pointed
out in her article ‘The Sense of Space' (Postmodern Culture). This
opens up a new agenda not focused on ‘beings' and their tools, but
on capacities and tendencies that construct and create beings in a
move which emphasizes Deleuze's interest in pre-Kantian worlds of
baroque. In addition, this move includes a multiplication of subjectivities and objects of the world, a certain autonomy of the material
world beyond the privileged observer. Like everybody who has done
gardening knows: there is a world teeming with life outside the human
sphere, with every bush and tree being a whole society in itself.
To put it shortly, still following Colebrook's recent writing on the
concept of affect, what Deleuze found in the baroque worlds of windowless monads was a capacity of perception that does not stem from
a universalising idea of perception in general. Man or any general
condition of perception is not the primary privileged position of perception but perceptions and creations of space and temporality are
multiplied in the numerous monadic worlds, a distributed perception
of a kind that according to Deleuze later found resonance in the philosophy of A.N.Whitehead. For Whitehead, the perceiving subject is
more akin to a ‘superject', a second order construction from the sum
of its perceptions. It is the world perceived that makes up superjects
and based on the variations of perceptions also alternative worlds.
Baroque worlds, argues Deleuze in his book Le Pli from 1988, are
characterised by the primacy of variation and perspectivism which is
a much more radical notion than a relativist idea of different subjects
having different perspectives on the world. Instead, “the subject will
be what comes to the point of view”, and where “the point of view is
not what varies with the subject, at least in the first instance; it is, to
82

82

82

83

83

the contrary, the condition in which an eventual subject apprehends
a variation (metamorphosis). . . ”.
Now why this focus on philosophy, this short excursion that merely
sketches some themes around variation and imagination? What I am
after is an idea of how to smuggle certain ideas of variation, modulation and perception into considerations of media culture, media
archaeology and potentially also imaginary media, where imaginary
media become less a matter of a Lacanian mirror phase looking for
utopian communication offering unity, but a deterritorialising way
of understanding the distributed ontology of the world and media
technologies. Variation and imagination become something else than
the imaginations of a point of view – quite the contrary, the imagination and variation give rise to points of view, which opens up a
whole new agenda of a past paradoxically not determined, and even
further, future as open to variation. This would mean taking into
account perceptions unheard of, unfelt, unthought-of, but still real in
their intensive potentiality, a becoming-other of the sensorium so to
speak. Hence, imagination becomes not a human characteristic but
an epistemological tool that interfaces analytics of media theory and
history with the world of animals and novel affects.
Imaginary media and variations at the heart of media cultural
modes of seeing and hearing have been discussed in various recent
books. The most obvious one is The Book of Imaginary Media, edited
by Eric Kluitenberg. According to the introduction, all media consist
of a real and an imagined part, a functional coupling of material characteristics and discursive dreams which fabricate the crucial features
of modern communication tied intimately with utopian ideals. Imaginary media – or actual media imagined beyond its real capacities
– have been dreamed to compensate insuffcient communication, a
realisation that Kluitenberg elaborates with the argument that “central to the archaeology of imaginary media in the end are not the
machines, but the human aspirations that more often than not are
left unresolved by the machines. . . ”. Powers of imagination are then
based in the human beings doing the imagining, in the human powers
able to transcend the actual and factual ways of perception and to

83

83

83

84

84

grasp the unseen, unheard and unthought of media creations. Variation remains connected to the principle of the central point where
variation is perceived.
Talking of the primacy of variation, we are easily reminded of
Siegfried Zielinski's application of the idea of ‘variantology' as an
‘anarchaeology of media', a task dedicated to the primacy of variation resisting the homogeneous drive of commercialised media spheres.
Excavating dreams of past geniuses, from Empedocles to Athanius
Kircher's cosmic machines and communication networks to Ernst florens Friedrich Chladni's visualisation of sound, Zielinski has been underlining the creative potential in an exercise of imagining media. In
this context, he defines in threefold the term ‘imaginary media' in his
chapter in the Book of Imaginary Media:
• Untimely media/apparatus/machines: “Media devised and designed
either much too late or much too early. . . ”
• Conceptual media/apparatus/machines: “Artefacts that were only
ever sketched as models. . . but never actually built.”
• Impossible media/apparatus/machines: “Imaginary media in the
true sense, by which I mean hermetic and hermeneutic machines. . .
they cannot actually be built, and whose implied meanings nonetheless have an impact on the factual world of media.”
A bit reminiscent of the baroque idea, variation is primary, claims
Zielinski. Whereas the capitalist orientated consumer media culture
is working towards a psychopathia medialis of homogenized media
technological environments, variantology is committed to promoting
heterogeneity, finding dynamic moments of media archaeological past,
and excavating radical experiments that push the limits of what can
be seen, heard and thought. Variantology is then implicitly suggested
as a mode of ontogenesis, of bringing forth, of modulation and change
– an active mode of creation instead of distanced contemplation.
Indeed, the aim of promoting diversity is a much welcomed one,
but I would like to propose a slight adjustment to this task, something that I engage under the banner of ‘insect media'. Whereas
Zielinski and much of the existing media archaeological research still
84

84

84

85

85

starts off from the human world of male inventor-geniuses, I propose
a slightly more distributed look at the media archaeology of affects,
capacities, modes of perception and movement, which are primarily
not attached to a specific substance (animal, technology), but since
the 19 th century at least, refer to a certain passage, vector from animals to technology and vice versa. Here, a mode of baroque thought,
a thought tuned in terms of variations becomes unravelled with the
help of animality that is not to be seen as a metaphor, but as a metamorphosis, as ‘teachings' in weird perceptions, novel ways of moving,
new ways of sensing, opening up to the world of sensations and contracting them. Instead of looking for variations through inventions of
people, we can turn to the ‘storehouses of invention' of for example
insects that from the 19 th century on were introduced as an alien
form of media in themselves. Next I will elaborate how we can use
these tiny animals as philosophical and media archaeological tools to
address media and technology as intensities that signal weird sensory
experiences.
Novel Sensoriums

During the latter half of the 19 th century, insects were seen as
uncanny but powerful forms of media in themselves, capable of weird
sensory and kinaesthetic experiences. Examples range from popular newspaper discourse to scientific measurements and such early
best-sellers as An Introduction to Entomology; or, Elements of the
Natural History of Insects: Comprising an Account of Noxious and
Useful Insects, of Their Metamorphoses, Hybernation, Instinct (1815—
1826) by William Kirby and William Spence.
Since the 19 th century, insects and animal affects are not only
found in biology but also in art, technology and popular culture. In
this sense, the 19 th century interest in insects produces a valuable
perspective on the intertwining of biology (entomology), technology
and art, where the basics of perception are radically detached from
human-centred models towards the animal kingdom. In addition, this
science-technology-art trio presents a challenge to rethink the forces
which form what we habitually refer to as ‘media' as modes of perception. By expanding our notions of ‘media' from the technological
85

85

85

86

86

apparatuses to the more comprehensive assemblages that connect biological, technological, social and aesthetic issues, we are also able to
bring forth novel contexts for contemporary analysis and design of media systems. In a way, then, the concept of the ‘insect' functions here
as a displacing and a deterritorialising force that seeks a questioning
of where and in what kind of conditions we approach media technologies. This is perhaps an approach that moves beyond a focus on
technology per se, but still does not remain blind to the material forces
of the world. It presents an alternative to the ‘substance-approaches'
that start from a stability or a ground like ‘technology' or ‘humans'.
It is my claim that Deleuzian biophilosophy, that has taken elements
from Spinozian ontology, von Uexküll's ethology, Whitehead's ideas
as well as Simondon's notions on individuation, is able to approach
the world as media in itself: a contracting of forces and analysing
them in terms of their affects, movements, speeds and slownesses.
These affects are primary defining capacities of an entity, instead of
a substance or a class it belongs to, as Deleuze explains in his short
book Spinoza: Practical Philosophy. From this perspective we can
adopt a novel media archaeological rewiring that looks at media history not as one of inventors, geniuses and solid technologies, but as a
field of affects, interactions and modes of sensation and perception.
Examples from the 19 th century popular discourse are illustrative.
In 1897, New York Times addressed spiders as ‘builders, engineers
and weavers', and also as ‘the original inventors of a system of telegraphy'. Spiders' webs offer themselves as ingenious communication
systems which do not merely signal according to a binary setting
(something has hit the web/has not hit the web) but transmits information regarding the “general character and weight of any object
touching it (. . . )” Or take for example the book Beautés et merveilles
de la nature et des arts by Eliçagaray from the 18 th century which
lists both technological and animal wonders, for example bees and
ants, electricity and architectural constructions as marvels of artifice
and nature.
Similar accounts abound since the mid 19 th century. Insects sense,
move, build, communicate and even create art in various ways that
raised wonder and awe for example in U.S. popular culture. Apt
86

86

86

87

87

example of the 19 th century insect mania is the New York Times
story (May 29, 1880) about the ‘cricket mania' of a certain young
lady who collected and trained crickets as musical instruments:
200 crickets in a wirework-house, filled with ferns and shells,
which she called a ‘fernery'. The constant rubbing of the wings
of these insects, producing the sounds so familiar to thousands
everywhere seemed to be the finest music to her ears. She
admitted at once that she had a mania for capturing crickets.
Besides entertainment, and in a much earlier framework, the classic
of modern entomology, the aforementioned An Introduction to Entomology by Kirby and Spence already implicitly presented throughout
its four volume best seller the idea of a primitive technics of nature –
insect technics that were immanent to their surroundings.
Kirby and Spence's take probably attracted the attention it did
because of the catchy language but also what could be called its
ethological touch. Insects were approached as living and interacting
entities that are intimately coupled with their environment. Insects
intertwine with human lives (“Direct and indirect injuries caused by
insects, injuries to our living vegetable property but also direct and
indirect benefits derived from insects”), but also engage in ingenious
building projects, stratagems, sexual behaviour and other expressive
modes of motion, perception and sensation. Instead of pertaining to a
taxonomic account of the interrelations between insect species, their
forms, growth or for example structural anatomy, An Introduction to
Entomology (vol. 1) is traversed by a curiosity cabinet kind of touch
on the ethnographics of insects. Here, insects are for example war
machines, like the horse-fly (Tabanus L.): “Wonderful and various
are the weapons that enable them to enforce their demand. What
would you think of any large animal that should come to attack you
with a tremendous apparatus of knives and lancets issuing from its
mouth?”.
From Kirby and Spence to later entomologists and other writers,
insects' powers of building continuously attracted the early entomological gaze. Buildings of nature were described as more fabulous than
87

87

87

88

88

the pyramids of Egypt or the aqueducts of Rome. Suddenly, in this
weird parallel world, such minuscule and admittedly small-brained
entities like termites were pictured as alike to the ancient monarchies
and empires of Western civilization. The Victorian appreciation of
ancient civilization could also incorporate animal kingdoms and their
buildings of monarchic measurements. Perhaps the parallel was not
to be taken literally, but in any case it expressed a curious interest
towards microcosmical worlds. A recurring trope was that of ‘insect
geometrics' which seemed with accuracy, paralleled only in mathematics, to follow and fold nature's resources into micro versions of
emerging urban culture. To quote Kirby and Spence's An Introduction to Entomology, vol. 2:
No thinking man ever witnesses the complexness and yet regularity and effciency of a great establishment, such as the Bank
of England or the Post Offce without marvelling that even human reason can put together, with so little friction and such
slight deviations from correctness, machines whose wheels are
composed not of wood and iron, but of fickle mortals of a thousand different inclinations, powers, and capacities. But if such
establishments be surprising even with reason for their prime
mover, how much more so is a hive of bees whose proceedings
are guided by their instincts alone!
Whereas the imperialist powers of Europe headed for overseas conquests, the mentality of exposition and mapping new terrains turned
also towards other fields than the geographical. The Seeing Eye – a
key figure of hierarchical modern power – could also be a non-human
eye, as with the fly which according to Steven Connor can be seen as
the recurring mode of “radically alien mode of entomological vision”
with its huge eyes consisting of 4000 sensors. Hence, it is fitting how
in 1898 the idea of “photographing through a fly's eye” was suggested
as a mode of experimental vision – able also to catch queen Victoria
with “the most infinitesimal lens known to science”, that of a dragon
fly.

88

88

88

89

89

Jean-Jacques Lecercle explains how the Victorian enthusiasm for
entomology and insect worlds is related to a general discourse of natural history that as a genre labelled the century. Through the themes
of ‘exploration' and ‘taxonomy' Lecercle claims how Alice in Wonderland can be read as a key novel of the era in its evaluation and
classification of various life worlds beyond the human. Like Alice in
the 1865 novel, new landscapes and exotic species are offered as an
armchair exploration of worlds not merely extensive but also opened
up by intensive gaze into microcosms. Uncanny phenomenal worlds
are what tie together the entomological quest, Darwinian inspired biological accounts of curious species and Alice's adventures into imaginative worlds of twisting logic. In taxonomic terms, the entomologist
is surrounded by a new cult of private and public archiving. New
modes of visualizing and representing insect life produce a new phase
of taxonomy becoming a public craze instead of merely a scientific
tool. Again the wonder worlds of Alice or Edward Lear, the Victorian nonsense poet, are the ideal point of reference for 19 th century
natural historian and entomologist, as Lecercle writes:
And it is part of a craze for discovering and classifying new
species. Its advantage over natural history is that it can invent those species (like the Snap-dragon-fly) in the imaginative
sense, whereas natural history can invent them only in the
archaeological sense, that is discover what already exists. Nonsense is the entomologist's dream come true, or the Linnaean
classification gone mad, because gone creative (. . . )
For Alice, the feeling of not being herself and “being so many different sizes in a day is very confusing”, which of course is something
incomprehensible to the Caterpillar she encounters. It is not queer for
the Caterpillar whose mode of being is defined by the metamorphosis
and the various perception/action-modulations it brings about. It
is only the suddenness of the becoming-insect of Alice that dizzies
her. A couple of years later, in The Population of an Old-Pear Tree,
or Stories of insect life (1870) an everyday meadow is disclosed as
a vivacious microcosm in itself. The harmonious scene, “like a great
89

89

89

90

90

amphitheatre”, is filled with life that easily escapes the (human) eye.
Like Alice, the protagonist wandering in the meadow is “lulled and
benumbed by dreamy sensations” which however transport him suddenly into new perceptions and bodily affects. What is revealed to
our boy hero in this educational novel fashioned in the style of travel
literature (connecting it thus to the colonialist contexts of its age)
is a world teeming with sounds, movements, sensations and insect
beings (huge spiders, cruel mole-crickets, energetic bees) that are beyond the human form (despite the constant tension of such narratives
as educational and moralising tales that anthropomorphize affective
qualities into human characteristics). True to entomological classification, a big part is reserved for the structural-anatomical differences
of the insect life but also the affect-life of how insects relate to their
surroundings is under scrutiny.
As precursors of ethology, such natural historical quests (whether
archaeological, entomological or imaginative) were expressing an appreciation of phenomenal worlds differing from that of the human
with its two hands, two eyes and two feet. In a way, this entailed a
kind of an extended Kantianism interested not only in the conditions
of possibility of experiences, but the emergence of alternative potentials on the immanent level of life that functions through a technics of
nature. Curiously the inspiration with new phenomenal worlds was
connected to the emergence of new technologies of movements, sensation and communication (all challenging the Kantian apperception of
Man as the historically constant basis of knowledge and perception).
Nature was gradually becoming the “new storehouse of invention”
(New York Times, August 4, 1901) that was to entice inventors into
perfecting their developments. What I argue is that this theme can
also be read as an expression of a shift in understanding technology
– a shift that marked the rise of modern discourse concerning media
technologies since the end of the 19 th century and that has usually
been attributed to an anthropological and ethnological turn in understanding technology. I also address this theme in another text of
mine, ‘Insect Technics'. For several writers such as Ernst Kapp who
became one of the predecessors of later theories of media as ‘extensions of man', it was the human body that served as a storage house
90

90

90

91

91

of potential media. However, at the same time, another undercurrent
proposed to think of technologies, inventions and solutions to problems posed by life as stemming from a much more different class of
bodies, namely insects.
So beyond Kant, we move onto a baroque world, not as a period of
art, but as a mode of folding and enveloping new ways of perception
and movement. The early years and decades of technical media were
characterized by the new imaginary of communication, from work
by inventors such as Nikola Tesla to various modes of e.g. spiritualism analyzed recently in her art works by Zoe Beloff. However, one
can radicalize the viewpoint even further and take an animal turn and
not look for alien but for animal and insect ways of sensing the world.
Naturally, this is exactly what is being proposed in a variety of media
art pieces and exhibitions. Insects have made their appearance for
example in Toshio Iwai's Music Insects (1990), Sarah Peebles' electroacoustic Insect Grooves as an example of imaginary soundscapes,
David Dunn's acoustic ecology pieces with insect sounds, the Sci-Art:
Bio-Robotic Choreography project (2001, with Stelarc as one of the
participators), and Laura Beloff's Spinne (2002), a networked spider installation that works according to the web spider/ant/crawler
technology.
Here we are dealing not just with representing the insect, but engaging with the animal affects, indistinguishable from those of the
technological, as in Stelarc's work where the experimentation with
new bodily realities is a form of becoming-insect of the technological
human body. Imagining by doing is a way to engage directly with
affects of becoming-animal of media where the work of sound and
body artists doubles the media archaeological analysis of historical
strata. In other words, one should not reside on the level of intriguing representations of imagined ways of communication, or imagined
apparatuses that never existed, but realize the overabundance of real
sensations, perceptions to contract, to fold, the neomaterialist view
towards imagined media.

91

91

91

92

92

Literature
Ernest van Bruyssel, The population of an old pear-tree; or, Stories
of insect life. (New York: Macmillan and co., 1870).
Lewis Carroll, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the
Looking Glass. Edited with an Introduction and Notes by Roger
Lancelyn Green. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998).
Claire Colebrook, ‘The Sense of Space. On the Specificity of Affect
in Deleuze and Guattari.' In: Postmodern Culture, vol. 15, issue 1,
2004.
Steven Connor, fly. (London: Reaktion Books, 2006).
Manuel DeLanda, War in the Age of Intelligent Machines. (New
York: Zone Books, 1991).
Gilles Deleuze, Spinoza: Practical Philosophy. Transl. Robert
Hurley. (San Francisco: City Lights, 1988).
Gilles Deleuze, The Fold. Transl. Tom Conley. (Minneapolis:
University of Minnesota Press, 1993).
Ernst Kapp, Grundlinien einer Philosophie der Technik: Zur Entstehungsgeschichte der Kultur aus neuen Gesichtspunkten. (Braunschweig:
Druck und Verlag von George Westermann, 1877).
William Kirby & William Spence, An Introduction to Entomology,
or Elements of the Natural History of Insects. Volumes 1 and 2.
Unabridged Faximile of the 1843 edition. (London: Elibron, 2005).
Eric Kluitenberg (ed.), Book of Imaginary Media. Excavating the
Dream of the Ultimate Communication Medium. (Rotterdam: NAi
publishers, 2006).
Jean-Jacques Lecercle, Philosophy of Nonsense: The Intuitions of
Victorian Nonsense Literature. (London: Routledge, 1994).
Jussi Parikka, ‘Insect Technics: Intensities of Animal Bodies.' In:
(Un)Easy Alliance - Thinking the Environment with Deleuze/Guattari, edited by Bernd Herzogenrath. (Newcastle: Cambridge Scholars
Press, Forthcoming 2008).
Siegfried Zielinski, ‘Modelling Media for Ignatius Loyola. A Case
Study on Athanius Kircher's World of Apparatus between the Imaginary and the Real.' In: Book of Imaginary Media, edited by Kluitenberg. (Rotterdam: NAi, 2006).

92

92

92

93

93

PIERRE BERTHET
License: Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike
EN

Extended speakers
& Concert with various extended objects
We invited Belgian artist Pierre Berthet to create an installation
for V/J10 that explores the resonance of EVP voices. He made a
netting of thin metal wires which he suspended from the ceiling of
the haunted house in the La Bellone courtyard.
Through these metal wires, loudspeakers without membranes were
connected to a network of resonating cans. Sinus tones and radio
recordings were transmitted through the speakers, making the metal
wires vibrate which, in their turn, caused the cans to resonate.

figure 26
A netting
of thin
metal wires
suspended
from the
ceiling of
the haunted
house in the
La Bellone
courtyard

figure 27


93

93

93

94

94

Concert with various extended objects

94

94

94

95

95

LEIff ELGREN, CM VON Hausswolff
License: Fully Restricted Copyright
EN

Elgaland-Vargaland
The Embassy of the The Kingdoms of Elgaland-Vargaland
(KREV)
The Kingdoms were proclaimed in 1992 and consist of all ‘Border
Territories': geographical, mental and digital. Elgaland-Vargaland is
the largest – and most populous – realm on Earth, incorporating all
boundaries between other nations as well as ‘Digital Territory' and
other states of existence. Every time you travel somewhere, and every
time you enter another form of being, such as the dream state, you
visit Elgaland-Vargaland, the kingdom founded by Leiff Elgren and
CM von Hausswolff.
During the Venice Biennale, Elgren stated that all dead people
are inhabitants of the country Elgaland-Vargaland unless they had
declared that they did not want to be an inhabitant.
Since V/J10, the Elgaland-Vargaland Embassy permanently resides in La Bellone.

figure 80
Since V/J10,
the Elgaland-Vargaland
Embassy permanently
resides in
La Bellone

figure 82

figure 81
Ambassadors
Yves
Poliart and
Wendy Van
Wynsberghe

figure 83

figure 85

figure 86

95

95

95

96

96

NL

Elgaland-Vargaland
figure 84
Every time
you travel
somewhere,
and every
time you
enter another form of
being, you
visit Elgaland-Vargaland.


CM VON Hausswolff, GUY-MARC HINANT
License: Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike
figure 88
Drawings by
Dominique
Goblet,
EVP sounds
by Carl
Michael von
Hausswolff,
images by
Guy-Marc
Hinant

figure 87
EVP could
be the result
of psychic
echoes from
the past,
psychokinesis, or the
thoughts
of aliens
or nature
spirits.

For more information on EVP, see: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Electronic_voice_phenomenon##_note
-fontana1
EN

Ghost Machinery
During V/J10 we showed an audiovisual installation entitled Ghost
Machinery, with drawings by Dominique Goblet, EVP sounds by Carl
Michael von Hausswolff, and images by Guy-Marc Hinant, based on
Dr. Stempnicks Electronic Voice Phenomena recordings.
EVP has been studied primarily by paranormal researchers since
the 1950s, who have concluded that the most likely explanation for
the phenomena is that they are produced by the spirits of the deceased. In 1959, Attila Von Szalay first claimed to have recorded the
‘voices of the dead', which led to the experiments of Friedrich Jürgenson. The 1970s brought increased interest and research including
the work of Konstantine Raudive. In 1980, William O'Neill backed by
industrialist George Meek built a ‘Spiricom' device, which was said to
facilitate very clear communication between this world and the spirit
world.
Investigation of EVP continues today through the work of many
experimenters, including Sarah Estep and Alexander McRae. In addition to spirits, paranormal researchers have claimed that EVP could
be due to psychic echoes from the past, psychokinesis unconsciously
produced by living people, or the thoughts of aliens or nature spirits.
Paranormal investigators have used EVP in various ways, including
as a tool in an attempt to contact the souls of dead loved ones and in
ghost hunting. Organizations dedicated to EVP include the American
Association of Electronic Voice Phenomena, the International Ghost
Hunters Society, as well as the skeptical Rorschach Audio project.

98

98

98

99

99

Read Feel Feed Real

101

101

101

102

102

Electro Magnetic fields of ordinary objects acted as EN
source material for an audio performance, surveillance
camera's and legislation are ingredients for a science fiction film, live annotation of videostreaming with the help
of IRC chats. . .
A mobile video laboratory was set up during the festival, to test out how to bring together scripting, annotation, data readings and recordings in digital archives.
Operating somewhere between surveillance and observation, the Open Source video team mixed hands-on Icecast
streaming workshops with experiments looking at the way
movements are regulated through motion control and vice
versa.

MANU LUKSCH, MUKUL PATEL
License: Creative Commons Attribution - NonCommercial - ShareAlike license
figure 94
CCTV
sculpture
in a park
in London

EN

Faceless: Chasing the Data Shadow
Stranger than fiction
Remote-controlled UAVs (Unmanned Aerial Vehicles) scan the city
for anti-social behaviour. Talking cameras scold people for littering
the streets (in children's voices). Biometric data is extracted from
CCTV images to identify pedestrians by their face or gait. A housing project's surveillance cameras stream images onto the local cable
channel, enabling the community to monitor itself.

figure 95
Poster in
London

These are not projections of the science fiction film that this text
discusses, but techniques that are used today in Merseyside 1. The
Guardian has reported the MoD rents out an RAF-staffed spy plane
for public surveillance, carrying reconnaissance equipment able to
monitor telephone conversations on the ground. It can also be used
for automatic number plate recognition: “Cheshire police recently revealed they were using the Islander [aircraft] to identify people speeding, driving when using mobile phones, overtaking on double white
lines, or driving erratically.”, Middlesborough 2, Newham and Shoreditch 3 in the UK. In terms of both density and sophistication, the UK
1

“Police spy in the sky fuels ‘Big Brother fears'”, Philip Johnston, Telegraph, 23/05/2007
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/main.jhtml?xml=/news/2007/05/22/ndrone22.xml
‘Talking' CCTV scolds offenders', BBC News, 4 April 2007 http://news.bbc.co.uk/2
/hi/uk_news/england/6524495.stm
3
“If the face fits, you're nicked”, Independent, Nick Huber, Monday, 1 April 2002 http:/
/www.independent.co.uk/news/business/analysis-and-features/if-the-face-fits-youre-nicked
-656092.html
“In 2001 the Newham system was linked to a central control room operated by the
London Metropolitan Police Force. In April 2001 the existing CCTV system in Birmingham city centre was upgraded to smart CCTV. People are routinely scanned by both
systems and have their faces checked against the police databases.”
Centre for Computing and Social Responsibility http://www.ccsr.cse.dmu.ac.uk
/resources/general/ethicol/Ecv12no1.html
2

104

104

104

105

105

leads the world in the deployment of surveillance technologies. With
an estimated 4.2 million CCTV cameras in place, its inhabitants are
the most watched in the world. 4 Many London buses have five or more
cameras inside, plus several outside, including one recording cars that
drive in bus lanes.
But CCTV images of our bodies are only one of many traces of
data that we leave in our wake, voluntarily and involuntarily. Vehicles are tracked using Automated Number Plate Recognition systems, our movements revealed via location-aware devices (such as
cell phones), the trails of our online activities recorded by Internet
Service Providers, our conversations overheard by the international
communications surveillance system Echelon, shopping habits monitored through store loyalty cards, individual purchases located using
RfiD (Radio-frequency identification) tags, and our meal preferences
collected as part of PNR (flight passenger) data. 5 Our digital selves
are many dimensional, alert, unforgetting.

4
5

A Report on the Surveillance Society. For the Information Commissioner by the Surveillance Studies Network, September 2006, p.19. Available from http://www.ico.gov.uk
‘e-Borders' is a £ 1.2bn passenger-screening programme to be introduced in 2009 and
to be complete by 2014. The single border agency, combining immigration, customs
and visa checks, includes a £ 650m contract with consortia Trusted Borders for a passenger-screening IT system: anyone entering or leaving Britain are to give 53 pieces
of information in advance of travel. This information, taken when a travel ticket is
bought, will be shared among police, customs, immigration and the security services
for at least 24 hours before a journey is due to take place. Trusted Borders consists
of US military contractor Raytheon Systems who will work with Accenture, Detica,
Serco, QinetiQ, Steria, Capgemini, and Daon. Ministers are also said to be considering
the creation of a list of ‘disruptive' passengers. It is expected to cost travel companies
£ 20million a year compiling the information. These costs will be passed on to customers via ticket prices, and the Government is considering introducing its own charge
on travellers to recoup costs. A pilot of the e-borders technology, known as Project
Semaphore, has already screened 29 million passengers.
Similarly, the arms manufacturer Lockheed Martin, the biggest defence contractor in
the U.S., that undertakes intelligence work as well as contributing to the Trident programme in the UK, is bidding to run the UK 2011 Census. New questions in the 2011
Census will include information about income and place of birth, as well as existing
questions about languages spoken in the household and many other personal details.
The Canadian Federal Government granted Lockheed Martin a $43.3 million deal to
conduct its 2006 Census. Public outcry against it resulted in only civil servants handling the actual data, and a new government task force being set up to monitor privacy
during the Census.
http://censusalert.org.uk/
http://www.vivelecanada.ca/staticpages/index.php/20060423184107361

105

105

105

106

106

Increasingly, these data traces are arrayed and administered in
networked structures of global reach. It is not necessary to posit a
totalitarian conspiracy behind this accumulation – data mining is an
exigency of both market effciency and bureaucratic rationality. Much
has been written on the surveillance society and the society of control,
and it is not the object here to construct a general critique of data
collection, retention and analysis. However, it should be recognised
that, in the name of effciency and rationality – and, of course, security – an ever-increasing amount of data is being shared (also sold,
lost and leaked 6) between the keepers of such seemingly unconnected
records as medical histories, shopping habits, and border crossings.
6

Sales: “Personal details of all 44 million adults living in Britain could be sold to
private companies as part of government attempts to arrest spiralling costs for the new
national identity card scheme, set to get the go-ahead this week. [...] ministers have
opened talks with private firms to pass on personal details of UK citizens for an initial
cost of £ 750 each.”
“Ministers plan to sell your ID card details to raise cash”, Francis Elliott, Andy McSmith and Sophie Goodchild, Independent, Sunday 26 June 2005
http://www.independent.co.uk/news/uk/politics/ministers-plan-to-sell-your-id-card-details
-to-raise-cash-496602.html
Losses: In January 2008, hundreds of documents with passport photocopies, bank
statements and benefit claims details from the Department of Work and Pensions were
found on a road near Exeter airport, following their loss from a TNT courier vehicle.
There were also documents relating to home loans and mortgage interest, and details
of national insurance numbers, addresses and dates of birth.
In November 2007, HM Revenue and Customs (HMRC) posted, unrecorded and unregistered via TNT, computer discs containing personal information on 25 million people
from families claiming child benefit, including the bank details of parents and the dates
of birth and national insurance numbers of children. The discs were then lost.
Also in November, HMRC admitted a CD containing the personal details of thousands
of Standard Life pension holders has gone missing, leaving them at heightened risk
of identity theft. The CD, which contained data relating to 15,000 Standard Life
pensions customers including their names, National Insurance numbers and pension
plan reference numbers was lost in transit from the Revenue offce in Newcastle to the
company's headquarters in Edinburgh by ‘an external courier'.
Thefts: In November 2007, MoD acknowledged the theft of a laptop computer containing the personal details of 600,000 Royal Navy, Royal Marines, and RAF recruits
and of people who had expressed interest in joining, which contained, among other
information, passport, and national insurance numbers and bank details.
In October 2007, a laptop holding sensitive information was stolen from the boot of
an HMRC car. A staff member had been using the PC for a routine audit of tax
information from several investment firms. HMRC refused to comment on how many
individuals may be at risk, or how many financial institutions have had their data
stolen as well. BBC suggest the computer held data on around 400 customers with
high value individual savings accounts (ISAs), at each of five different companies –
including Standard Life and Liontrust. (In May, Standard Life sent around 300 policy
documents to the wrong people.)

106

106

106

107

107

Legal frameworks intended to safeguard a conception of privacy by
limiting data transfers to appropriate parties exist. Such laws, and in
particular the UK Data Protection Act (DPA, 1998) 7, are the subject
of investigation of the film Faceless.
From Act to Manifesto
“I wish to apply, under the Data Protection Act,
for any and all CCTV images of my person held
within your system. I was present at [place] from
approximately [time] onwards on [date].” 8
For several years, ambientTV.NET conducted a series of exercises
to visualise the data traces that we leave behind, to render them
into experience and to dramatise them, to watch those who watch
us. These experiments, scrutinising the boundary between public
and private in post-9/11 daily life, were run under the title ‘the Spy
School'. In 2002, the Spy School carried out an exercise to test the
reach of the UK Data Protection Act as it applies to CCTV image
data.
The Data Protection Act 1998 seeks to strike a balance between
the rights of individuals and the sometimes competing interests
of those with legitimate reasons for using personal information.
The DPA gives individuals certain rights regarding information
held about them. It places obligations on those who process information (data controllers) while giving rights to those who are
the subject of that data (data subjects). Personal information
covers both facts and opinions about the individual. 9

7
9

The full text of the DPA (1998) is at http://www.opsi.gov.uk/ACTS/acts1998
/19980029.htm
Data Protection Act Fact Sheet available from the UK Information Commissioners
Offce, http://www.ico.gov.uk

107

107

107

108

108

The original DPA (1984) was devised to ‘permit and regulate'
access to computerised personal data such as health and financial
records. A later EU directive broadened the scope of data protection
and the remit of the DPA (1998) extended to cover, amongst other
data, CCTV recordings. In addition to the DPA, CCTV operators
‘must' comply with other laws related to human rights, privacy, and
procedures for criminal investigations, as specified in the CCTV Code
of Practice (http://www.ico.gov.uk).
As the first subject access request letters were successful in delivering CCTV recordings for the Spy School, it then became pertinent
to investigate how robust the legal framework was. The Manifesto for
CCTV filmmakers was drawn up, permitting the use only of recordings obtained under the DPA. Art would be used to probe the law.

figure 92
Still from
Faceless,
2007

figure 94
Multiple,
conflicting
timecode
stamps

A legal readymade
Vague spectres of menace caught on time-coded surveillance
cameras justify an entire network of peeping vulture lenses. A
web of indifferent watching devices, sweeping every street, every
building, to eliminate the possibility of a past tense, the freedom
to forget. There can be no highlights, no special moments: a
discreet tyranny of now has been established. Real time in its
most pedantic form. 10
Faceless is a CCTV science fiction fairy tale set in London, the city
with the greatest density of surveillance cameras on earth. The film
is made under the constraints of the Manifesto – images are obtained
from existing CCTV systems by the director/protagonist exercising
her/his rights as a surveilled person under the DPA. Obviously the
protagonist has to be present in every frame. To comply with privacy
legislation, CCTV operators are obliged to render other people in
the recordings unidentifiable – typically by erasing their faces, hence
the faceless world depicted in the film. The scenario of Faceless thus
derives from the legal properties of CCTV images.
10

(Ian Sinclair: Lights out for the territory, Granta, London, 1998, p. 91)

108

108

108

109

109

“RealTime orients the life of every citizen. Eating, resting, going
to work, getting married – every act is tied to RealTime. And every
act leaves a trace of data – a footprint in the snow of noise...” 11
The film plays in an eerily familiar city, where the reformed RealTime calendar has dispensed with the past and the future, freeing
citizens from guilt and regret, anxiety and fear. Without memory or
anticipation, faces have become vestigial – the population is literally
faceless. Unimaginable happiness abounds – until a woman recovers
her face...
There was no traditional shooting script: the plot evolved during
the four-year long process of obtaining images. Scenes were planned
in particular locations, but the CCTV recordings were not always
obtainable, so the story had to be continually rewritten.
Faceless treats the CCTV image as an example of a legal readymade (‘objet trouvé'). The medium, in the sense of raw materials
that are transformed into artwork, is not adequately described as
simply video or even captured light. More accurately, the medium
comprises images that exist contingent on particular social and legal
circumstances – essentially, images with a legal superstructure. Faceless interrogates the laws that govern the video surveillance of society
and the codes of communication that articulate their operation, and
in both its mode of coming into being and its plot, develops a specific
critique.
Reclaiming the data body
Through putting the DPA into practice and observing the consequences over a long exposure, close-up, subtle developments of the
law were made visible and its strengths and lacunae revealed.
“I can confirm there are no such recordings of
yourself from that date, our recording system was
not working at that time.” (11/2003)

11

Faceless, 2007

109

109

109

110

110

Many data requests had negative outcomes because either the surveillance camera, or the recorder, or the entire CCTV system in question
was not operational. Such a situation constitutes an illegal use of
CCTV: the law demands that operators: “comply with the DPA by
making sure [...] equipment works properly.” 12
In some instances, the non-functionality of the system was only
revealed to its operators when a subject access request was made. In
the case below, the CCTV system had been installed two years prior
to the request.
“Upon receipt of your letter [...] enclosing the
required 10£ fee, I have been sourcing a company
who would edit these tapes to preserve the privacy of other individuals who had not consented
to disclosure. [...] I was informed [...] that all
tapes on site were blank. [.. W]hen the engineer
was called he confirmed that the machine had not
been working since its installation.
Unfortunately there is nothing further that can be
done regarding the tapes, and I can only apologise
for all the inconvenience you have been caused.”
(11/2003)
Technical failures on this scale were common. Gross human errors
were also readily admitted to:

12

CCTV Systems and the Data Protection Act 1998, available from http://www.ico.gov
.uk

110

110

110

111

111

“As I had advised you in my previous letter, a request was made to remove the tape and for it not
to be destroyed. Unhappily this request was not
carried out and the tape was wiped according with
the standard tape retention policy employed by
[deleted]. Please accept my apologies for this and
assurance that steps have been taken to ensure a
similar mistake does not happen again.” (10/2003)

figure 98
The Rotain
Test, devised
by the
UK Home
Offce Police
Scientific
Development
Branch,
measures
surveillance
camera
performance.

Some responses, such as the following, were just mysterious (data
request made after spending an hour below several cameras installed
in a train carriage).
“We have carried out a careful review of all relevant tapes and we confirm that we have no images of
you in our control.” (06/2005)
Could such a denial simply be an excuse not to comply with the costly
demands of the DPA?
“Many older cameras deliver image quality so poor
that faces are unrecognisable. In such cases the
operator fails in the obligation to run CCTV for
the declared purposes.
You will note that yourself and a colleague's faces
look quite indistinct in the tape, but the picture you sent to us shows you wearing a similar
fur coat, and our main identification had been made
through this and your description of the location.”
(07/2002)

111

111

111

112

112

To release data on the basis of such weak identification compounds
the failure.
Much confusion is caused by the obligation to protect the privacy
of third parties in the images. Several data controllers claimed that
this relieved them of their duty to release images:
“[... W]e are not able to supply you with the images you requested because to do so would involve
disclosure of information and images relating to
other persons who can be identified from the tape
and we are not in a position to obtain their consent to disclosure of the images. Further, it is
simply not possible for us to eradicate the other
images. I would refer you to section 7 of the Data
Protection Act 1998 and in particular Section 7
(4).” (11/2003)
Even though the section referred to states that it is:
“not to be construed as excusing a data controller
from communicating so much of the information
sought by the request as can be communicated without disclosing the identity of the other individual concerned, whether by the omission of names or
other identifying particulars or otherwise.”
Where video is concerned, anonymisation of third parties is an expensive, labour-intensive procedure – one common technique is to occlude
each head with a black oval. Data controllers may only charge the
statutory maximum of 10 £ per request, though not all seemed to be
aware of this:

112

112

112

113

113

“It was our understanding that a charge for production of the tape should be borne by the person
making the enquiry, of course we will now be checking into that for clarification. Meanwhile please
accept the enclosed video tape with compliments of
[deleted], with no charge to yourself.” (07/2002)

figure 90
Off with
their heads!

Visually provocative and symbolically charged as the occluded heads
are, they do not necessarily guarantee anonymity. The erasure of a
face may be insuffcient if the third party is known to the person requesting images. Only one data controller undeniably (and elegantly)
met the demands of third party privacy, by masking everything but
the data subject, who was framed in a keyhole. (This was an uncommented second offering; the first tape sent was unprocessed.) One
CCTV operator discovered a useful loophole in the DPA:
“I should point out that we reserve the right, in
accordance with Section 8(2) of the Data Protection
Act, not to provide you with copies of the information requested if to do so would take disproportionate effort.” (12/2004)
What counts as ‘disproportionate effort'? The gold standard was set
by an institution whose approach was almost baroque – they delivered
hard copies of each of the several hundred relevant frames from the
time-lapse camera, with third parties heads cut out, apparently with
nail scissors.
Two documents had (accidentally?) slipped in between the printouts – one a letter from a junior employee tendering her resignation
(was it connected with the beheading job?), and the other an ironic
memo:

113

113

113

114

114

“And the good news -- I enclose the 10 £ fee to be
passed to the branch sundry income account.” (Head
of Security, internal communication 09/2003)
From 2004, the process of obtaining images became much more difficult.
“It is clear from your letter that you are aware
of the provisions of the Data Protection Act and
that being the case I am sure you are aware of
the principles in the recent Court of Appeal decision in the case of Durant vs. financial Services Authority. It is my view that the footage you
have requested is not personal data and therefore
[deleted] will not be releasing to you the footage
which you have requested.” (12/2004)
Under Common Law, judgements set precedents. The decision in
the case Durant vs. financial Service Authority (2003) redefined
‘personal data'; since then, simply featuring in raw video data does
not give a data subject the right to obtain copies of the recording.
Only if something of a biographical nature is revealed does the subject
retain the right.

114

114

114

115

115

“Having considered the matter carefully, we do not
believe that the information we hold has the necessary relevance or proximity to you. Accordingly
we do not believe that we are obligated to provide
you with a copy pursuant to the Data Protection Act
1988. In particular, we would remark that the video
is not biographical of you in any significant way.”
(11/2004)
Further, with the introduction of cameras that pan and zoom, being
filmed as part of a crowd by a static camera is no longer grounds for
a data request.
“[T]he Information Commissioners office has indicated that this would not constitute your personal
data as the system has been set up to monitor the
area and not one individual.” (09/2005)
As awareness of the importance of data rights grows, so the actual
provision of those rights diminishes:

115

115

115

116

116

figure 89
Still from
Faceless,
2007

"I draw your attention to CCTV systems and the Data
Protection Act 1998 (DPA) Guidance Note on when the
Act applies. Under the guidance notes our CCTV system is no longer covered by the DPA [because] we:
• only have a couple of cameras
• cannot move them remotely
• just record on video whatever the cameras pick
up
• only give the recorded images to the police to
investigate an incident on our premises"
(05/2004)
Data retention periods (which data controllers define themselves)
also constitute a hazard to the CCTV filmmaker:
“Thank you for your letter dated 9 November addressed to our Newcastle store, who have passed
it to me for reply. Unfortunately, your letter was
delayed in the post to me and only received this
week. [...] There was nothing on the tapes that you
requested that caused the store to retain the tape
beyond the normal retention period and therefore
CCTV footage from 28 October and 2 November is no
longer available.” (12/2004)
Amidst this sorry litany of malfunctioning equipment, erased tapes,
lost letters and sheer evasiveness, one CCTV operator did produce
reasonable justification for not being able to deliver images:

116

116

116

117

117

“We are not in a position to advise whether or not
we collected any images of you at [deleted]. The
tapes for the requested period at [deleted] had
been passed to the police before your request was
received in order to assist their investigations
into various activities at [deleted] during the
carnival.” (10/2003)

figure 91
Still from
Faceless,
2007

In the shadow of the shadow
There is debate about the effcacy, value for money, quality of
implementation, political legitimacy, and cultural impact of CCTV
systems in the UK. While CCTV has been presented as being vital in solving some high profile cases (e.g. the 1999 London nail
bomber, or the 1993 murder of James Bulger), at other times it has
been strangely, publicly, impotent (e.g. the 2005 police killing of Jean
Charles de Menezes). The prime promulgators of CCTV may have
lost some faith: during the 1990s the UK Home Offce spent 78% of
its crime prevention budget on installing CCTV, but in 2005, an evaluation report by the same offce concluded that, “the CCTV schemes
that have been assessed had little overall effect on crime levels.” 13
An earlier, 1992, evaluation reported CCTV's broadly positive
public reception due to its assumed effectiveness in crime control,
acknowledging “public acceptance is based on limited and partly inaccurate knowledge of the functions and capabilities of CCTV systems
in public places.” 14
By the 2005 assessment, support for CCTV still “remained high in
the majority of cases” but public support was seen to decrease after
implementation by as much as 20%. This “was found not to be the
reflection of increased concern about privacy and civil liberties, as
this remained at a low rate following the installation of the cameras,”
13

Gill, M. and Spriggs, A., Assessing the impact of CCTV. London: Home Offce
Research, Development and Statistics Directorate 2005, pp.60-61.
www.homeoffce.gov.uk/rds/pdfs05/hors292.pdf
14
http://www.homeoffce.gov.uk/rds/prgpdfs/fcpu35.pdf

117

117

117

118

118

but “that support for CCTV was reduced because the public became
more realistic about its capabilities” to lower crime.
Concerns, however, have begun to be voiced about function creep
and the rising costs of such systems, prompted, for example, by the
disclosure that the cameras policing London's Congestion Charge remain switched on outside charging hours and that the Met are to
have live access to them, having been exempted from parts of the
Data Protection Act to do so. 15 As such realities of CCTV's daily
operation become more widely known, existing acceptance may be
somewhat tempered.
Physical bodies leave data traces: shadows of presence, conversation, movement. Networked databases incorporate these traces into
data bodies, whose behaviour and risk are priorities for analysis and
commodification, by business and by government. The securing of
a data body is supposedly necessary to secure the human body, either preventatively or as a forensic tool. But if the former cannot
be assured, as is the case, what grounds are there for trust in the
hollow promise of the latter? The all-seeing eye of the panopticon is
not complete, yet. Regardless, could its one-way gaze ever assure an
enabling conception of security?

15

Surveillance State Function Creep – London Congestion Charge “real-time bulk data”
to be automatically handed over to the Metropolitan Police etc. http://p10.hostingprod
.com/@spyblog.org.uk/blog/2007/07/surveillance_state_function_creep_london_congestion
_charge_realtime_bulk_data.html

118

118

118

119

119

MICHAEL MURTAUGH

figure 113
Start
broadcasting
yourself!

License: Free Art License
EN

Active Archives
or: What's wrong with the YouTube documentary?
As someone who has shot video and programmed web-based interfaces to video over the past decade, it has been exciting to see how
distributing video via the Internet has become increasingly popularized, thanks in large part to video sharing sites like YouTube. At the
same time, I continue to design and write software in search of new
forms of collaborative and ‘evolving' documentaries; and for myself,
and others around me, I feel disinterest, even aversion, to posting
videos on YouTube. This essay has two threads: (1) I revisit an
earlier essay describing the ‘Evolving Documentary' model to get at
the roots of my enthusiasm for working with video online, and (2) I
examine why I find YouTube problematic, and more a reflection of
television than the possibilities that the web offers.
In 1996, I co-authored an essay with Glorianna Davenport, then
my teacher and director of the Interactive Cinema group at the MIT
Media Lab, called Automatist storyteller systems and the shifting
sands of story. 1 In it, we described a model for supporting ‘Evolving
Documentaries', or an “approach to documentary storytelling that
celebrates electronic narrative as a process in which the author(s), a
networked presentation system, and the audience actively collaborate
in the co-construction of meaning.” In this paper, Glorianna included
a section entitled ‘What's wrong with the Television Documentary?'
The main points of this argument were as follows:

1

figure 114
Join the
largest
worldwide
video-sharing
community!

http://www.research.ibm.com/journal/sj/363/davenport.html

131

131

131

132

132

1.
[... T]elevision consumes the viewer. Sitting passively in front
of a TV screen, you may appreciate an hour-long documentary;
you may even find the story of interest; however, your ability to
learn from the program is less than what it might be if you were
actively engaged with it, able to control its shape and probe its
contents.
Here, it is crucial to understand what is meant by the word ‘active'
. In a naive comparison between the activities of watching television
and surfing the web, one might say that the latter is inherently more
active in the sense that the process is ‘driven' by the choices of the
user; in the early days of the web it became popular to refer to this
split as ‘lean back vs. lean forward' media. Of course, if one means
to talk about cognitive activity, this is clearly misleading as aimlessly surfing the net can be achieved at near comatose levels of brain
function (as any late night surfer can attest to) and watching a particularly sharp television program can be incredibly engaging, even
life changing. Glorianna would often describe her frustration with
traditional documentary by observing the vast difference between her
own sense of engagement with a story gained through the process of
shooting and editing, versus the experience of an audience member
from simply viewing the end result. Thus ‘active' here relates to the
act of authoring and the construction of meaning. Rather than talking about leaning forward or backward, a more useful split might be
between reading and writing. Rather than being a question of bad
versus good access, the issue becomes about two interconnected cognitive processes, both hopefully ‘active' and involving thought. An
ideal platform for online documentary would be one that facilitates a
fluid movement between moments of reflection (reading) and of construction (writing).

132

132

132

133

133

2.
Television severely limits the ways in which an author can
‘grow' a story. A story must be composed into a fixed, unchanging form before the audience can see and react to it: there is no
obvious way to connect viewers to the process of story construction. Similarly, the medium offers no intrinsic, immediately
available way to interconnect the larger community of viewers
who wish to engage in debate about a particular story.
Part of the promise of crossing video with computation is the potential to combine the computers' ability to construct models and
run simulations with the random access possibilities of digitized media. Instead of editing a story down into a fixed form or ‘final cut',
one can program a ‘storytelling system' that can act as an ‘editor in
software'. Thus the system can maintain a dynamic representation
of the context of a particular telling, on which to base (or support a
viewer in making) editing decisions ‘on the fly'. The ‘Evolving Documentary' was intended to support complex stories that would develop
over time, and which could best be told from a variety of points of
view.
3.
Like published books and movies, television is designed for
unidirectional, one-to-many transmission to a mass audience,
without variation or personalization of presentation. The remote-control unit and the VCR (videocassette recorder) - currently the only devices that allow the viewer any degree of independent control over the play-out of television - are considered
anathema by commercial broadcasters. Grazing, time-shifting,
and ‘commercial zapping' run contrary to the desire of the industry for a demographically correct audience that passively
absorbs the programming - and the intrusive commercial messages - that the broadcasters offer.
133

133

133

134

134

Adding a decentralized means of distribution and feedback such
as the Internet provides the final piece of the puzzle in creating a
compelling new medium for the evolving documentary. No longer
would footage have to be excluded for reasons of reaching a ‘broad'
or average audience. An ideal storytelling system would be one that
could connect an individual viewer to whatever material was most
personally relevant. The Internet is a unique ‘mass media' in its
potential support for enabling access to non-mainstream, individually
relevant and personal subject matter.
What's wrong with the YouTube documentary?
YouTube has massively popularized the sharing and consumption
of video online. That said, most of the core concerns made in the
arguments related to television, are still relevant to YouTube when
considered as a platform for online collaborative documentary.
Clips are primarily ‘view-only'
Already in it's name, ‘YouTube' consciously invokes the television
set, thus inviting visitors to ‘lean back' and watch. The YouTube
interface functions primarily as a showcase of static monolithic elements. Clips are presented as fixed and finished, to be commented
upon, rated, and possibly bookmarked, but no more. The clip is
‘atomic' in the sense that it's not possible to make selections within a
clip, to export images or sound, or even to link to a particular starting
point. Without special plugins, the site doesn't even allow downloading of the clip. While users are encouraged ‘to embed' YouTube content in other websites (by cutting and pasting special HTML codes
that refer back to the YouTube site), the resulting video plays using
the YouTube player, complete with ‘related' links back into the service. It is in fact a violation of the YouTube terms of use to attempt
to display videos from the service in any other way.

134

134

134

135

135

The format of the clip is fixed and uniform for all kinds
of content
Technically, YouTube places some rather arbitrary limits on the
format of clips: all clips must contain an image and a sound track
and may not be longer than 10 minutes in length. Furthermore all
clips are treated equally, there is no notion of a ‘lecture', versus a
‘slideshow', versus a ‘music video', together with a sense that these
different kinds of material might need to be handled differently. Each
clip is compressed in a uniform way, meaning at the moment into a
flash format video file of fixed data rate and screen size.
Clips have no history
Despite these limitations, users of YouTube have found workarounds
to, for instance, download clips to then rework them into derived clips.
Although the derived works are often placed back again on YouTube,
the system itself has no means representing this kind of relationship.
(There is a mechanism for posting video responses to other clips, but
this kind of general purpose solution seems not to be understood or
used to track this kind of ‘derived' relationship.) The system is unable to model or otherwise make available the ‘history' of a particular
piece of media. Contrast this with a system like Wikipedia, where the
full history of an article, with a record of what was changed, by whom,
when, and even ‘meta-level' discussions about the changes (including
possible disagreement) is explicitly facilitated.
Weak or ‘flat' narrative structure
YouTube's primary model for narrative is a broad (and somewhat
obscure) sense of ‘relatedness' (based on user-defined tags) modulated
by popularity. As with many ‘social networking' and media sharing
sites, YouTube relies on ‘positive feedback' popularity mechanisms,
such as view counts, ‘star' ratings and favorites, to create ranked lists
of clips. Entry points like ‘Videos being watched right now', ‘Most
Viewed', ‘Top Favorites', only close the loop of featuring what's already popular to begin with. In addition, YouTube's commercial

135

135

135

136

136

model of enabling special paid levels of membership leads to ambiguous selection criteria, complicated by language as in the ‘Promoted
Videos' and ‘Featured Videos' of YouTube's front page (promoting
what?, featured by whom?).
The ‘editing logic' threading the user through the various clips is
flat, in that a clip is shown the same way regardless of what has been
viewed before it. Thus YouTube makes no visible use of a particular viewing history (though the fact that this information is stored
has been brought to the attention of the public via the ongoing Viacom lawsuit, http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/technology/7506948.stm).
In this way it's difficult to get a sense of being in a particular ‘story
arc' or thread when moving from clip to clip in YouTube as in a sense
each click and each clip restarts the narrative experience.
No licenses for sharing / reuse
The lack of a download feature in YouTube could be said to protect the interests of those who wish to assert a claim of copyright.
However, YouTube ignores and thus obscures the question of license
altogether. One can find for instance the early films of Hitchcock,
now part of the public domain, in 10 minute chunks on YouTube;
despite this status (not indicated on the site), these clips are, like all
YouTube clips, unavailable for any kind of manipulation. This approach, and the limitations it places on the use of YouTube material,
highlights the fact that YouTube is primarily focused on getting users
to consume YouTube material, framed in YouTube's media player, on
YouTube's terms.
Traditional models for (software) authorship
While YouTube is built using open source software (Python and
ffmpeg for instance), the source code of the system itself is closed,
leaving little room for negotiation about how the software of the
site itself operates. This is a pity on a variety of levels. Free and
open source software is inextricably bound to the web not only in
terms of providing many of the underlying software (like the Apache
web server), but also in the reverse, as the possibilities for collaborative development that the web provides has catalyzed the process of
136

136

136

137

137

open source development. Software designed to support collaborative
work on code, like Subversion and other CVS's (concurrent versioning systems), and platforms for tracking and discussing software (like
TRAC), provide much richer models of use and relationship to work
than those which YouTube offer for video production.
Broadcasting over coherence
From it's slogan (‘Broadcast yourself'), to the language the service
uses around joining and uploading videos (see images), YouTube falls
very much into a traditional model of commercial broadcast television. In this model sharing means getting others to watch your clips,
with the more eyeballs the better.
The desire for broadness and the building of a ‘worldwide' community united only by a desire to ‘broadcast one's self' means creating
coherence is not a top priority. YouTube comments, for instance,
seem to suffer from this lack of coherence and context. Given no
particular focus, comments seem doomed to be similarly ungrounded
and broad. Indeed, comments in YouTube often seem to take on
more the character of public toilets than of public broadcasting, replete with the kind of sexism, racism, and homophobia that more or
less anonymous ‘blank wall' access seems to encourage.
A problematic space for ‘sharing'
The combination of all these aspects make YouTube for many a
problematic space for ‘sharing' - particularly when the material is of
a personal or particular nature. While on the one hand appearing
to pose an alternative platform to television, YouTube unfortunately
transposes many of that form's limitations and conventions onto the
web.
Looking to the future, what still remains challenging, is figuring
out how to fuse all those aspects that make the Internet so compelling
as a medium and enable them in the realm of online video: the net's
decentralized nature, the possibilities for participatory/collaboration
production, the ability to draw on diverse sources of knowledge (from
‘amateur' and home-based, to ‘expert'). How can the successful examples of collaborative text-based projects like Wikipedia inspire new
137

137

137

138

138

forms of collaborative video online; and in a way that escapes the
‘heaviness' and inertia of traditional forms of film/video. This fusion
can and needs to take place on a variety of levels, from the concept
of what a documentary is and can be, to the production tools and
content management systems media makers use, to a legal status of
media that reflects an understanding that culture is something which
is shared, down to the technical details of the formats and codecs
carrying the media in a way that facilitates sharing, instead of complicating it.

138

138

138

139

139

EN
NL
FR

Mutual Motions

139

139

139

140

140

Whether we operate a computer with the help of a command line interface, or by using buttons, switches and
clicks. . . the exact location of interaction often serves as
conduit for mutual knowledge - machines learn about bodies and bodies learn about machines. Dialogues happen
at different levels and in various forms: code, hardware,
interface, language, gestures, circuits.
Those conversations are sometimes gentle in tone - ubiquitous requests almost go unnoticed - and other times
they take us by surprise because of their authoritative
and demanding nature: “Put That There”. How can we
think about such feed back loops in productive ways?
How are interactions translated into software, and how
does software result in interaction? Could the practice of
using and producing free software help us find a middle
ground between technophobia and technofetishism? Can
we imagine ourselves and our realities differently, when we
try to re-design interfaces in a collaborative environment?
Would a different idea about ‘user' change our approach
to ‘use' as well?


7

“Classic puff pastry begins with a basic dough called a détrempe (pronounced day-trahmp) that is rolled out and
wrapped around a slab of butter. The
dough is then repeatedly rolled, folded,
and turned.”, Molly Stevens, A Shortcut
to flaky Puff Pastry. http://www.taunton
.com/finecooking/articles/how-to/rough-puff
-pastry.aspx 2008

146

146

146

147

147

figure XI

figure XIII

ADRIAN MACKENZIE
License: Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike
EN

Centres of envelopment and intensive movement
in digital signal processing

figure 115
Adrian
Mackenzie
at V/J10

Abstract
The paper broadly concerns algorithmic processes commonly found
in wireless networks, video and audio compression. The problem it
addresses is how to account for the convoluted nature of the digital
signal processing (DSP). Why is signal processing so complex and relatively inaccessible? The paper argues that we can only understand
what is at stake in these labyrinthine calculations by switching focus away from abstract understandings of calculation to the dynamic
re-configuration of space and movement occurring in signal processing. The paper works through one example in detail of this reconfigured
movement in order to illustrate how digital signal processing enables
different experiences of proximity, intimacy, co-location and distance.
It explores how wireless signal processing algorithms envelope heterogeneous spaces in the form of hidden states, and logistical networks.
Importantly, it suggests that the ongoing dynamism of signal processing could be understood in terms of intensive movement produced by
a centre of envelopment. Centres of envelopment generate extensive
changes, but they also change the nature of change itself.
From sets to signals: digital signal processing
In new media art, in new media theory and in various forms of
media activism, there has been so much work that seizes on the possibilities of using digital technologies to design interactions, sound,
image, text, and movement that challenge dominant forms of experience, habit and selfhood. In various ways, the processes of branding,
commodification, consumption, control and surveillance associated
155

155

155

156

156

with contemporary media have been critically interrogated and challenged.
However, there are some domains of contemporary technological
and media culture that are really hard to work with. They may
be incredibly important, they may be an intimate part of everyday
life, yet remain relatively intractable. They resist contestation, and
engagement with may even seem pointless. This is because they may
contain intractable materials, or be organised in such complicated
ways that they are hard to change.
This paper concerns one such domain, digital signal processing
(DSP). I am not saying that new media has not engaged with DSP. Of
course it has, especially in video art and sound art, but there is little
work that helps us make sense of how the sensations, textures, and
movements associated with DSP come to be taken for granted, come
to appear as normal, and everyday, or how they could be contested.
A promotional video from Intel for the UltraMobilePC 1 promotes
change in relation to mobile media. Intel, because it makes semiconductors, is highly invested in digital signal processing in various forms.
In any case, video itself is a prime example of contemporary DSP at
work. Two aspects of this promotional video for the UMPC, the UltraMobile PC, relate to digital signal processing. There is much signal
processing here. It connects the individual's eyes, mouths and ears
to screens that display information services of various kinds. There
is also much signal processing in the wireless network infrastructures
that connect all these gadgets to each other and to various information services (maps, calendars, news feeds). In just this example,
sound, video, speech recognition, fibre, wireless and satellite, imaging
technologies in medicine all rely on DSP. We could say a good portion
of our experience is DSP-based.
This paper is an attempt to develop a theory of digital signal processing, a theory that could be used to talk about ways of contesting,
critiquing, or making alternatives. The theory under development
here relies a lot on two notions, ‘intensive movement' and ‘centre
of envelopment' that Deleuze proposed in Difference and Repetition.

figure 117
A promotional video
from Intel
for the UltraMobilePC

1

http://youtube.com/watch?v=GFS2TiK3AI

156

156

156

157

157

However, I want to keep the philosophy in the background as much as
possible. I basically want to argue that we need to ask: why does so
much have to be enveloped or interiorised in wireless or audiovisual
DSP?
How does DSP differ from other algorithmic processes?
What can we say about DSP? firstly, influenced by recent software
studies-based approaches (Fuller, Chun, Galloway, Manovich), I think
it is worth comparing the kinds of algorithmic processes that take
place in DSP with those found in new media more generally. Although
it is an incredibly broad generalisation, I think it is safe to say that
DSP does not belong to the set-based algorithms and data-structures
that form the basis of much interest in new media interactivity or
design.
DSP differs from set-based code. If we think of social software such
as flickr, Google, or Amazon, if we think of basic information infrastructures such as relational databases or networks, if we think of
communication protocols or search engines, all of these systems rely
on listing, enumerating, and sorting data. The practices of listing,
indexing, addressing, enumerating and sorting, all concern sets. Understood in a fairly abstract way, this is what much software and code
does: it makes and changes sets. Even areas that might seem quite
remote from set-making, such as the 3D-projective geometry used in
computer game graphics are often reduced algorithmically to complicated set-theoretical operations on shapes (polygons). Even many
graphic forms are created and manipulated using set operations.
The elementary constructs of most programming languages reflect
this interest in set-making. For instance, networks or, in computer
science terms, graphs, are visually represented like using lines and
boxes. But in terms of code, they are presented as either edge or
‘adjacency lists', like this: 2
graph = {'A': ['B', 'C'],
'B': ['C', 'D'],
2

http://www.python.org/doc/essays/graphs/

157

157

157

158

158

'C':
'D':
'E':
'F':

['D'],
['C'],
['F'],
['C']}

A graph or network can be seen as a list of lists. This kind of
representation in code of relations is very neat and nice. It means that
something like the structure of the internet, as a hybrid of physical
and logical relations, can be recorded, stored, sorted and re-ordered
in code. Importantly, it is highly open to modification and change.
Social software, or Web2.0, as exemplified in websites like Facebook or
YouTube also can be understood as massive deployments of set theory
in the form of code. Their sociality is very much dependent on set
making and set changing operations, both in the composition of the
user interfaces and in the underlying databases that make constantly
seek to attach new relations to data, to link identities and attributes.
In terms of activism, and artwork, relations that can be expressed in
the form of sets and operations on sets, are highly manipulable. They
can be learned relatively easily, and they are not too difficult to work
with. For instance, scripts that crawl or scrape websites have been
widely used in new media art and activism.
By contrast, DSP code is not based on set-making. It relies on
a different ordering of the world that lies closer to streams of signals that come from systems such as sensors, transducers, cameras,
and that propagate via radio or cable. Indeed, although it is very
widely used, DSP is not usually taught as part of the computer science or software engineering. The textbooks in these areas often do
not mention DSP. The distinction between DSP and other forms of
computation is clearly defined in a textbook of DSP:
Digital Signal Processing is distinguished from other areas in
computer science by the unique type of data it uses: signals.
In most cases, these signals originate as sensory data from the
real world: seismic vibrations, visual images, sound waves, etc.
DSP is the mathematics, the algorithms, and the techniques

158

158

158

159

159

used to manipulate these signals after they have been converted
into a digital form. (Smith, 2004)
While it draws on some of the logical and set-based operations
found in code in general, DSP code deals with signals that usually involve some kind of sensory data – vibrations, waves, electromagnetic
radiation, etc. These signals often involve forms of rapid movement,
rhythms, patterns or fluctuations. Sometimes these movements are
embodied in physical senses, such as the movements of air involved in
hearing, or the flux of light involved in seeing. Because they are often
irregular movements, they cannot be easily captured in the forms of
movement idealised in classical mechanics – translation, rotation, etc.
Think for instance of a typical photograph of a city street. Although
there are some regular geometrical forms, the way in which light is
reflected, the way shadows form, is very difficult to describe geometrically. It is much easier, as we will see, to think of an image as a
signal that distributes light and colour in space. Once an image or
sound can be seen as a signal, it can undergo digital signal processing.
What distinguishes DSP from other algorithmic processes is its
reliance on transforms rather than functions. This is a key difference.
The ‘transform' deals with many values at once. This is important
because it means it can deal with things that are temporal or spatial,
such as sounds, images, or signals in short. This brings algorithms
much closer to sensation, and to what bodies feel. While there is
codification going on, since the signal has to be treated digitally as
discrete numerical values, it is less reducible to the sequence of steps or
operations that characterise set-theoretical coding. Here for instance
is an important section of the code used in MPEG video encoding in
the free software ffmpeg package:

figure 116
The simplest
mpeg encoder

**
* @file mpegvideo.c
* The simplest mpeg encoder (well, it was the simplest!).
*
...
159

159

159

160

160

* for jpeg fast DCT */
#define CONST_BITS 14
static const uint16_t aanscales[64] = {
/* precomputed values scaled up by 14 bits */
16384, 22725, 21407, 19266, 16384, 12873, 8867, 4520,
22725, 31521, 29692, 26722, 22725, 17855, 12299, 6270,
21407, 29692, 27969, 25172, 21407, 16819, 11585, 5906,
19266, 26722, 25172, 22654, 19266, 15137, 10426, 5315,
16384, 22725, 21407, 19266, 16384, 12873, 8867, 4520,
12873, 17855, 16819, 15137, 12873, 10114, 6967, 3552,
8867, 12299, 11585, 10426, 8867, 6967, 4799, 2446,
4520, 6270, 5906, 5315, 4520, 3552, 2446, 1247
};
...
for(i=0;i<64;i++) {
const int j=
dsp{}->}idct_permutation[i];
qmat[qscale][i] = (int)((uint64_t_C(1)
<< (QMAT_SHIFT + 14))
(aanscales[i]
* qscale * quant_matrix[j]));
I don't think we need to understand this code in detail. There is
only one thing I want to point out in this code: the list of ‘precomputed' numerical values is used for ‘jpeg fast DCT'. This is a typical
piece of DSP type code. It refers to the way in which video frames are
encoding using Fast Fourier Transforms. The key point here is that
these values have been carefully worked out in advance to scale different colour and luminosity components of the image differently. The
transform, DCT (Discrete Cosine Transform), is applied to chunks of
sensation – video frames – to make them into something that can be
manipulated, stored, changed in size or shape, and circulated. Notice
160

160

160

161

161

that the code here is quite opaque in comparison to the graph data
structures discussed previously. This opacity reflects the sheer number of operations that have to be compressed into code in order for
digital signal processing to work.
Working with DSP: architecture and geography
So we can perhaps see from the two code examples above that there
is something different about DSP in comparison to the set-based
processing. DSP seems highly numerical and quantified, while the
set-based code is symbolic and logical. What is at stake in this difference? I would argue that it is something coming into the code from
outside, something that is difficult to read in the code itself because
it is so opaque and convoluted. Why is DSP code hard to understand
and also hard to write?
You will remember that I said at the outset that there are some
facets of technological cultures that resist appropriation or intervention. I think the mathematics of DSP is one of those facets. If I just
started explaining some of the mathematical models that have been
built into the contemporary world, I think it would be shoring up
or reinforcing a certain resistance to change associated with DSP, at
least in its main mathematical formalisations. I do think the mathematical models are worth engaging with, partly because they look
so different from the set-based operations found in much code today.
The mathematical models can tell us why DSP is difficult to intervene
in at a low level.
However, I don't think it is the mathematics as such that makes
digital signal processing hard to grapple with. The mathematics is an
architectural response to a geographical problem, a problem of where
code can go and be in the world. I would argue that it is the relation
between the architecture and geography of digital signal processing
itself that we should grapple with. It is something to do about the
immersion in everyday life, the proximity to sensation, the shifting
multi-sensory patterning of sociality, the movements of bodies across
variable distances, and the effervescent sense of impending change
that animates the convoluted architecture of DSP.

161

161

161

162

162

We could think of the situations in which DSP is commonly found.
For instance, in the background of the scenes in the daily lives of
businessmen shown in Intel's UPMC video, lie wireless infrastructures
and networks. Audiovisual media and wireless networks both use
signal processing, but for different reasons. Although they seem quite
disparate from each other in terms of how we embody them, they
actually sometimes use the same DSP algorithms. (In other work, I
have discussed video codecs. 3
3

The case of video codecs
In the foreground of the UMPC vision, stand images, video images in particular, and
to a lesser extent, sounds. They form a congested mass, created by media and information networks. People in electronic media cultures constantly encounter images in
circulation. Millions of images flash across TV, cinema and computer screens. DVD's
shower down on us. The internet is loaded down with video at the moment (Google
Video, YouTube.com, Yahoo video, etc.). A powerful media-technological imagining of
video moving everywhere, every which way, has taken root.
The growth of video material culture is associated with a key dynamic: the proliferation
of software and hardware codecs. Codecs generate linear transforms of images and
sound. Transformed images move through communication networks much more quickly
than uncompressed audiovisual materials. Without codecs, an hour of raw digital video
would need 165 CD-ROMs or take roughly 24 hours to move across a standard computer
network (10Mbit/sec ethernet). Instead of 165 CDs, we take a single DVD on which a
film has been encoded by a codec. We play it on a DVD player that also has a codec,
usually implemented in hardware. Instead of 32Mbyte/sec, between 1-10 MByte/sec
streams from the DVD into the player and then onto the television screen.
The economic and technical value of codecs can hardly be overstated. DVD, the transmission formats for satellite and cable digital television (DVB and ATSC), HDTV
as well as many internet streaming formats such as RealMedia and Windows Media,
third generation mobile phones and voice-over-ip (VoIP), all depend on video and audio codecs. They form a primary technical component of contemporary audiovisual
culture.
Physically, codecs take many forms, in software and hardware. Today, codecs nestle in
set-top boxes, mobile phones, video cameras and webcams, personal computers, media
players and other gizmos. Codecs perform encoding and decoding on a digital data
stream or signal, mainly in the interest of finding what is different in a signal and what
is mere repetition. They scale, reorder, decompose and reconstitute perceptible images
and sounds. They only move the differences that matter through information networks
and electronic media. This performance of difference and repetition of video comes at
a cost. Enormous complication must be compressed in the codec itself.
Much is at stake in this logistics from the perspective of cultural studies of technology
and media. On the one hand, codecs analyse, compress and transmit images that
fascinate, bore, fixate, horrify and entertain billions of spectators. Many of these
videos are repetitive or cliched. There are many re-runs of old television series or
Hollywood classics. YouTube.com, a video upload site, offers 13,500 wedding videos.
Yet the spatio-temporal dynamics of these images matters deeply. They open new
patterns of circulation. To understand that circulation matters deeply, we could think
of something we don't want to see, for instance, the execution of many hostages (Daniel
Perl, Nick Berg, and others) in Jihadist videos since 2002. Islamist and ‘shock-site' web

162

162

162

163

163

While images are visible, wireless signals are relatively hard to
sense. So they are a ‘hard case' to analyse. We know they surround
us, but we hardly have any sensation of them. A tightly packed
labyrinth of digital signal processing lies between antenna and what
reaches the business travellers' eyes and ears. Much of what they
look at and listen has passed through wireless chipsets. The chipsets,
produced by Broadcom, Intel, Texas Instruments, Motorola, Airgo or
Pico, are tiny (1 cm) fragments that support highly convoluted and
concatenated paths on nanometre scales. In wireless networks such
as Wi-fi, Bluetooth, and 3G mobile phones with their billions of
miniaturised chipsets, we encounter a vast proliferation of relations.
What is at stake in these convoluted, compressed packages of relationality, these densely patterned architectures dedicated to wireless
communication?
Take for instance the picoChip, a latest-generation wireless digital
signal processing chip, designed by a ‘fabless' semiconductor company,
picoChip Designs Ltd, in Bath, UK. The product brief describes the
chip as:
[t]he architecture of choice for next-generation wireless. Expressly designed to address the new air-interfaces, picoChip's
multi-core DSP is the most powerful baseband processor on
the market. Ideally suited to WiMAX, HSPA, UMTS-LTE,
802.16m, 802.20 and others, the picoArray delivers ten-times
better MIPS/$ than legacy approaches. Crucially, the picoArray is easy to program, with a robust development environment
and fast learning curve. (PicoChip, 2007)
Written for electronics engineers, the key points here are that the
chip is designed for wireless communication or ‘air-interface', that
servers streamed these videos across the internet using the low-bitrate Windows Media
Video codec, a proprietary variant of the industry-standard MPEG-4. The shock of
such events – the sight of a beheading, the sight of a journalist pleading for her life –
depends on its circulation through online and broadcast media. A video beheading lies
at the outer limit of the ordinary visual pleasures and excitations attached to video
cultures. Would that beheading, a corporeal event that takes video material culture to
its limits, occur without codecs and networked media?

163

163

163

164

164

its purpose is to receive and transmit information wirelessly, and
that it accommodates a variety of wireless communication standards
(WiMAX, HSPA, 802.16m, etc). In this context, much of the terminology of performance and low cost is familiar. The chip combines computing performance and value for money (“ten times better
MIPS/$ – Million Instructions Per Second/$”) as a ‘baseband processor'. That means that it could find its way into many different version of hardware being produced for applications that range between
large-scale wireless information infrastructures and small consumer
electronics applications. Only the last point is slightly surprisingly
emphatic: “[c]rucially, the picoArray is easy to program, with a robust development environment and fast learning curve.” Why should
ease of programming be important?
And why should so many processors be needed for wireless
signal processing?
The architecture of the picoChip stands on shifting ground. We
are witnessing, as Nigel Thrift writes, “a major change in the geography of calculation. Whereas ‘computing' used to consist of centres
of calculation located at definite sites, now, through the medium of
wireless, it is changing its shape” (Thrift, 2004, 182). The picoChip's
architecture is a respond to the changing geographies of calculation.
Calculation is not carried out at definite sites, but at almost any
site. We can see the picoChip as an architectural response to the
changing geography of computing. The architecture of the picoChip
is typical in the ways that it seeks to make a constant re-shaping
of computation possible, normal, affordable, accessible and programmable. This is particularly evident in the parallel character of its
architecture. Digital signal processing requires massive parallellisation: more chips everywhere, and chips that do more in parallel. The
advanced architecture of the picoChip is typical of the shape of things
more generally:
[t]he picoArray™ is a tiled processor architecture in which hundreds of processors are connected together using a deterministic
interconnect. The level of parallelism is relatively fine grained
164

164

164

165

165

with each processor having a small amount of local memory.
... Multiple picoArrayTM devices may be connected together to
form systems containing thousands of processors using on-chip
peripherals which effectively extend the on-chip bus structure.
(Panesar, et al., 2006, 324)
The array of processors shown then, is a partial representation, an
armature for a much more extensive diffusion of processors in wireless
digital signal processing: in wireless base stations, 3G phones, mobile
computing, local area networks, municipal, community and domestic
Wi-fi network, in femtocells, picocells, in backhaul, last-mile or first
mile infrastructures.

figure 118
Typical contemporary
wireless infrastructure
DSP chip architecture
PicoChip202

Architectures and intensive movement
It is as if the picoChip is a miniaturised version of the urban geography that contains the many gadgets, devices, and wireless and wired
infrastructures. However, this proliferation of processors is more than
a diffusion of the same. The interconnection between these arrays of
processors is not just extensive, as if space were blanketed by an ever
finer and wider grid of points occupied by processors at work shaping
signals. As we will see, the interconnection between processors in DSP
seeks to potentialise an intensive movement. It tries to accommodate
a change in the nature of movement. Since all movement is change,
intensive movement is a change in change. When intensive movement
occurs, there is always a change in kind, a qualitative change.
Intensive movements always respond to a relational problem. The
crux of the relational problem of wirelessness is this: how can many
things (signals, messages, flows of information) occupy the same space
at the same time, yet all be individualised and separate? The flow of
information and messages promises something highly individualised
(we saw this in the UMPC video from Intel). In terms of this individualising change, the movement of images, messages and data, and the
movement of people, have become linked in very specific ways today.
The greater the degree of individualization, the more dense becomes
the mobility of people and the signals they transmit and receive. And
as people mobilise, they drag personalised flows of communication on
165

165

165

166

166

the move with them. Hence flows of information multiply massively,
and networks must proliferate around those flows. The networks need
to become more dense, and imbricate lived spaces more closely in response to individual mobility.
This poses many problems for the architecture of communication infrastructure. The infrastructural problems of putting networks everywhere are increasingly, albeit only partially, solved by packing radio-frequency waves with more and more intricately modulated signal
patterns. This is the core response of DSP to the changing geography
of calculation, and to the changing media embodiments associated
with it. To be clear on this: were it not for digital signal processing,
the problems of interference, of unrelated communications mixing together, would be potentially insoluble. The very possibility of mobile
devices and mobility depends on ways of increasing the sheer density
of wireless transmissions. Radio spectrum becomes an increasingly
valuable, tightly controlled resource. For any one individual communication, not much space or time can be available. And even when
there is space, it may be noisy and packed with other people and
things trying to communicate. different kinds of wireless signals are
constantly added to the mix. Signals may have to work their way
through crowds of other signals to reach a desired receiver. Communication does not take place in open, uncluttered space. It takes
place in messy configurations of buildings, things and people, which
obstruct waves and bounce signals around. The same signal may
be received many times through different echoes (‘multipath echo'
). Because of the presence of crowds of other signals, and the limited spectrum available for any one transmission, wirelessness needs
to be very careful in its selection of paths if experience is to stream
rather than just buzz. The problem for wireless communication is to
micro-differentiate many paths and to allow them to interweave and
entwine with each other without coming into relation.
So the changing architectures of code and computation associated
with DSP in wireless networks does more, I would argue, than fit in
with changing geography of computing. It belongs to a more intensive, enveloped, and enveloping set of movements. To begin addressing this dynamic, we might say that wireless DSP is the armature
166

166

166

167

167

of a centre of envelopment. This is a concept that Gilles Deleuze
proposes late in Difference and Repetition. ‘Centres of envelopment'
are a way of understanding how extensive movements arise from intensive movement. Such centres crop up in ‘complex systems' when
differences come into relation:
to the extent that every phenomenon finds its reason in a difference of intensity which frames it, as though this constituted
the boundaries between which it flashes, we claim that complex
systems increasingly tend to interiorise their constitutive differences: the centres of envelopment carry out this interiorisation
of the individuating factors. (Deleuze, 2001, 256)
Much of what I have been describing as the intensive movement
that folds spaces and times inside DSP can be understood in terms
of an interiorisation of constitutive differences. An intensive movement always entails a change in the nature of change. In this case,
a difference in intensity arises when many signals need to co-habit
that same place and moment. The problem is: how can many signals
move simultaneously without colliding, without interfering with each
other? How can many signals pass by each other without needing
more space? These problems induce the compression and folding of
spaces inside wireless processing, the folding that we might understand as a ‘centre of envelopment' in action.
The Fast Fourier Transform: transformations between time
and space
I have been arguing that the complications of the mathematics
and the convoluted nature of the code or hardware used in DSP,
stems from an intensive movement or constitutive difference that is
interiorised. We can trace this interiorisation in the DSP used in
wireless networks. I do not have time to show how this happens
in detail, but hopefully one example of DSP that occurs but in the
video codecs and wireless networks will illustrate how this happens
in practice.
167

167

167

168

168

Late in the encoding process, and much earlier in the decoding
process in contemporary wireless networks, a fairly generic computational algorithm comes into action: the Fast Fourier Transform
(ffT). In some ways, it is not surprising to find the ffT in wireless networks or in digital video. Dating from the mid-1960s, ffTs
have long been used to analyse electrical signals in many scientific
and engineering settings. It provides the component frequencies of
a time-varying signal or waveform. Hence, in ‘spectral analysis', the
ffT can show the spectrum of frequencies present in a signal.
The notion of the Fourier transform is mathematical and has been
known since the early 19th century: it is an operation that takes
an arbitrary waveform and turns it into a set of periodic waves (sinusoids) of different frequencies and amplitudes. Some of these sinusoids
make more important contributions to overall shape of the waveform
than others. Added together again, these sine or cosine waves should
exactly re-constitute the original signal. Crucially, a Fourier transform can turn something that varies over time (a signal) into a set of
simple components (sine or cosine waves) that do not vary over time.
Put more technically, it switches between ‘time' and ‘frequency' domains. Something that changes in time, a signal, becomes a set of
distinct components that can be handled separately. 4
In a way, this analysis of a complex signal into simple static component signals means that DSP does use the set-based approaches I
described earlier. Once a complex signal, such as an image, has been
analysed into a set of static components, we can imagine code that

4

Humanities and social science work on the Fast Fourier Transform is hard to find, even
though the ffT is the common mathematical basis of contemporary digital image,
video and sound compression, and hence of many digital multimedia (in JPEG, MPEG
files, in DVDs). In the early 1990s, Friedrich Kittler wrote an article that discussed
it {Kittler, 1993 #753}. His key point was largely to show that there is no realtime
in digital signal processing. The ffT works by defining a sliding window of time for
a signal. It treats a complicated signal as a set of blocks that it lifts out of the time
domain and transforms into the frequency domain. The ffT effectively plots an event
in time as a graph in space. The experience of realtime is epiphenomenal. In terms of
the ffT, a signal is always partly in the future or the past. Although Kittler was not
referring to the use of ffT in wireless networks, the same point applies – there is no
realtime communication. However, while this point about the impossibility of realtime
calculation was important to make during the 1990s, it seems well-established now.

168

168

168

169

169

would select the most important or relevant components. This is precisely what happens in video and sound codecs such as MPEG and
MP3.
The ffT treats sounds and images as complicated superimpositions of waveforms. The envelope of a signal becomes something that
contains many simple signals. It is interesting that wireless networks
tend to use this process in reverse. It deliberately takes a well-separated and discrete set of signals – a digital datastream – and turns it
into a single complex signal. In contrast to the normal uses of ffT in
separating important from insignificant parts of a signal, in wireless
networks, and in many other communications setting, ffT is used to
put signals together in such a way as to contain them in a single envelope. The ffT is found in many wireless computation algorithms
because it allows many different digital signals to be put together on
a single wave and then extracted from it again.
Why would this superimposition of many signals onto a single complex waveform be desirable? Would it not increase the possibilities of
confusion or interference between signals? In some ways the ffT is
used to slow everything down rather than speed it up. Rather than
simply spatialising a duration, the ffT as used in wireless networks
defines a different way of inhabiting the crowded, noise space of electromagnetic radiation. Wireless transmitters are better at inhabiting
crowded signal spectrum when they don't try to separate themselves
off from each other, but actually take the presence of other transmitters into account. How does the ffT allow many transmitters to
inhabit the same spectrum, and even use the same frequencies?
The name of this technique is OFDM (Orthogonal Frequency Division Multiplexing). OFDM spreads a single data stream coming
from a single device across a large number of sub-carriers signals (52
in IEEE 802.11a/g). It splits the data stream into dozens of separate signals of slightly different frequency that together evenly use
the whole available radio spectrum. This is done in such a way that
many different transmitters can be transmitting at the same time,
on the same frequency, without interfering with each other. The advantage of spreading a single high speed data stream across many
signals (wideband) is that each individual signal can carry data at a
169

169

169

170

170

much slower rate. Because the data is split into 52 different signals,
each signal can be much slower (1/50). That means each bit of data
can be spaced apart more in time. This has great advances in urban
environments where there are many obstacles to signals, and signals
can reflect and echo often. In this context, the slower the data is
transmitted, the better.
At the transmitter, a reverse ffT (IffT) is used to re-combine
the 50 signals onto 1 signal. That is, it takes the 50 or so different
sub-carriers produced by OFDM, each of which has a single slightly
different, but carefully chosen frequency, and combines them into one
complex signal that has a wide spectrum. That is, it fills the available
spectrum quite evenly because it contains many different frequency
components. The waveform that results from the IffT looks like
'white noise': it has no remarkable or outstanding tendency whatsoever, except to a receiver synchronised to exactly the right carrier
frequency. At the receiver, this complex signal is transformed, using ffT, back into a set of 50 separate data streams, that are then
reconstituted into a single high speed stream.
Even if we cannot come to grips with the techniques of transformation using in DSP in any great detail, I hope that one point stands
out. The transformation involves ‘c'hanges in kind. Data does not
simply move through space. It changes in kind in order to move
through space, a space whose geography is understood as too full of
potential relations.
Conclusion
A couple of points in conclusion:
a. The spectrum of different wireless-audiovisual devices competing
to do more or less the same thing, are all a reproduction of the
same. Extensive movement associated with wireless networks and
digital video occur in various forms. firstly in the constant enveloping of spaces by wireless signals, and secondly in the dense

170

170

170

171

171

population of wireless spectrum by competing, overlapping signals, vying for market share in highly visible, well-advertised campaigns to dominate spectrum while at the same time allowing for
the presence of many others.
b. Actually, in various ways, wirelessness puts the very primacy of
extension as space-making in question. Signals seem to be able to
occupy the same space at the same time, something that should
not happen in space as usually understood. We can understand
this by re-conceptualising movement as intensive. Intensive movement occurs in multiple ways. Here I have emphasised the constant folding inwards or interiorisation of heterogeneous movements via algorithms used in digital signal processing. Intensive
movement ensues occurs when a centre of envelopment begins to
interiorise differences. While these interiorised spaces are computationally intensive (as exemplified by the picoChip's massive
processing power), the spaces they generate are not perceived as
calculated, precise or rigid. Wirelessness is a relatively invisible,
messy, amorphous, shifting sets of depths and distances that lacks
the visible form and organisation of other entities produced by
centres of calculation (for instance, the shape of a CAD-designed
building or car). However, similar processes occur around sound
and images through DSP. In fact, different layers of DSP are increasingly coupled in wireless media devices.
c. Where does this leave the centre of envelopment? The cost of
this freeing up of movement, of mobility, seems to me to be an
interiorisation of constitutive differences, not just in DSP code
but in the perceptual fields and embodiment of the mobile user.
The irony of the DSP is that it uses code to quantify sensations
or physical movements that lie at the fringes of representation
or awareness. We can't see DSP as such, but it supports our
seeing and moving. It brings code quite close to the body. It
can work with audio and images in ways that bring them much
closer to us. The proliferation of mobile devices such as mp3 and
digital cameras is one consequence of that. Yet the price DSP
pays for this proximity to sensation, to sounds, movement, and
others, is the envelopment I have been describing. DSP acts as
171

171

171

172

172

a centre of envelopment, as something that tends to interiorise
intensive movements, the changing nature of change, the intensive
movements that give rise to it.
d. This brings us back to the UMPC video: it shows two individuals.
Their relation can never, it seems, get very far. The provision
of images, sound and wireless connectivity has come so far, that
they hardly need encounter each other at all. There is something
intensely monadological here: DSP is heavily engaged in furnishing the interior walls of the monad, and with orienting the monad
in relation to other monads, but making sure that nothing much
need pass between them. So much has already been pre-processed
between, that nothing much need happen between. They already
have a complete perception of their relation to the other.
e. On a final constructive note, it seems that there is room for contestation here. The question is how to introduce the set-based
code processes that have proven productive in other areas into
the domain of DSP. What would that look like? How would it be
sensed? What could it do to our sensations of video or wireless
media?

172

172

172

173

173

References
Deleuze, Gilles. Difference and Repetition. Translated by Paul
Patton, Athlone Contemporary European Thinkers. (London; New
York: Continuum, 2001).
Panesar, Gajinder, Daniel Towner, Andrew Duller, Alan Gray, and
Will Robbins. ‘D'eterministic Parallel Processing, International Journal of Parallel Programming 34, no. 4 (2006): 323-41.
PicoChip. 'Advanced Wireless Technologies', (2007). http://www
.picochip.com/solutions/advanced_wireless_technologies
PicoChip. 'Pc202 Integrated Baseband Processor Product Brief',
(2007). http://www.picochip.com/downloads/03989ce88cdbebf5165e2f095a1cb1c8
/PC202_product_brief.pdf
Smith, Steven W. The Scientist and Engineer's Guide to Digital
Signal Processing: California Technical Publishing, 2004).
Thrift, Nigel. ‘R'emembering the Technological Unconscious by
Foregrounding Knowledges of Position, Environment & Planning D:
Society & Space 22, no. 1 (2004): 175-91.

173

173

173

174

174

ELPUEBLODECHINA A.K.A.
ALEJANDRA MARIA PEREZ NUNEZ
License: ??
EN

El Curanto
Curanto is a traditional method of cooking in the ground by the
people of Chiloe, in the south of Chile. This technique is practiced
throughout the world under different names. What follows is a summary of the ELEMENTS and steps enunciated and executed during el
curanto, which was performed in the centre of Brussels during V/J10.

Recipe

?

For making a curanto you need
to take the following steps and
arrange the following ELEMENTS:

This image is repeated in many
different cultures. Might be an
ancient way of cooking. What
does this underground cooking
imply? Most of all, it takes a lot
of TIME.

Free Libre Open Source
Curanto in the center
of Bruxelles

OVEN, a hole in the ground
filled with fire resistant STONES.

? find a way to get a good deal
at the market to get fresh
MUSSELS for x people.
It
helps to have a CHARISMATIC
WOMAN do it for you.

figure A

a slow cooking

OVEN

174

174

174

175

175

onomies of immaterial labour.
?

A BRIGHT WOMAN FRIEND to
find out about BELGIAN PORPHYRY and tell you about the
mining carrière in Quenast
(Hainaut).

? A CAMERA WOMAN to hand
you a MARBLE STONE to put
inside the OVEN.

figure B a TERRAIN VAGUE in
the centre of Brussels and a
NEIGHBOUR willing to let you in.

?

or some other MULwho is
extremely PATIENT and HUMOURISTIC and who helps
you to focus and takes pictures.
WENDY

TITASKING WOMAN

?

or some
that
TRUSTS the carrier of the
performance, will tell their
STORY about TRAVELING MUSSELS.
FEMKE

and

PETER

EXCENTRIC COUPLE

figure C A HOLE in the
ground 1.5 m deep, 1 m
diameter. (It makes me
think of a hole in my head).

A hole in the ground reminds me
of the unknown. FOOD cooked
inside the ground relates to ideas,
creativity and GIFT. It helps to
have GUILLAUME or a strong and
positive MAN to help you dig the
hole. A second PERSON would be
of great help, especially if, while
digging, he would talk about tax-

Mussels eaten in the centre of
Brussels are grown in Ireland and
immersed in Dutch seawater and
are then offcially called Dutch.
After 2 days in Dutch water, they
are ready to be exported to Brussels and become Belgian mussels
that are in fact Dutch-Irish.

175

175

175

176

176

figure D Original curanto
STONES are round fire
resistant stones. I couldn't
find them in Brussels.

figure E A good BUCKET
to scoop the rain out
of your newly dug HOLE

The only round and granite stones
were very expensive design ones.
In Chile you just dig a hole anywhere and find them. The only
fire resistant rock in Brussels was
the STREET itself.
? Square shaped rocks collected
randomly throughout the city
by means of appropriation.
Streets are made of a type of
granite rock, might be Belgian
porphyry. Note that there is a
message on one of the stones we
picked up in the centre. It reads
'watch your head'.

figure F A tent to protect
your fiRE from random RAIN

176

176

176

177

177

figure G LAIA or some
psychonaut, hierophant friend.

Should be someone who is able to
transmit confidence to the execution of el curanto and who will
keep you company while you are
appropriating stones in Brussels.
? A good BOUILLON made of
cheap white wine and concentrated bio vegetables and
spices is one of the secrets.

figure I GIRL that will
randomly come to the place
with her MOTHER and
speak in Spanish to the
carrier of the performance.

She will play the flute, give
the OVEN some orders to cook
well and sing improvised SONGS.
She and some other children will
play around by digging holes and
making their own CURANTO.

figure J A big fiRE to heat up
the wet cold ground of Brussels
figure H You need to find
or some Palestinian fellow
to help you keep the fire burning

MOAM

177

177

177

178

178

figure K

figure M A SACK CLOTH
to cover the food and to
retain STEAM for cooking.

RED HOT COAL

figure L Using some
cabbage leaves to cover
the RED HOT COAL to
place the FOOD on top of

figure N

or some
who is
happy to SHARE his expert
knowledge and willing to
join in the performance.
DIDIER

PANIC COOK MAN

178

178

178

179

179

?

?

HOLE

?

MUSSELS

?
figure O ONIONS,
and SPECULATIONS.

GESTURES

?

While reading VALIS, the carrier
of the performance will become
reverend TIMOTHY ARCHER and
read about TIME (something that
has mainly been forgotten is
Palestine).

figure P el curanto is
to be made together with
PEOPLE and for EVERYONE.

WOOD found in a dismantled
house. It helps to find a ride
to transport it.

SPICES,

leaf.

rosemary and bay

MICHAEL or some DEDICATED
friend that will assist with the
execution of the performance
and keep the pictures of it afterwards for months.

figure Q You can eat from
the shell by using your hands
or a little WOODEN SPOON.

If you want to eat later, take the
mussels out of their shell, add
OLIVE OIL, make a spread and
keep it cold in a jar. find QUEER
couples to savour it with BREAD
while talking about SEX.
179

179

179

180

180

?

fiRE

?

RED HOT COAL

?

FOOD

?

from the cooking MUSIt helps to use 'hot'
PIEZZO MICROPHONES.
NOISE

SELS.

Here TIME turns into space.
“Time can be overcome”, Mircea
Eliade wrote. That's what it's all
about.
The great mystery of Eleusis, of
the Orphics, of the early Christians, of Sarapis, of the Greco

1

-Roman mystery religions, of
Hermes Trismegistos, of the Renaissance Hermetic alchemists,
of the Rose Cross Brotherhood,
of Apollonius of Tyana, of Simon
Magus, of Asklepios, of Paracelsus, of Bruno, consists of the abolition of time. The techniques are
there. Dante discusses them in
the Comedy. It has to do with
the loss of amnesia; when forgetfulness is lost, true memory
spreads out backward and forward, into the past and into the
future, and also, oddly, into alternate universes; it is orthogonal as well as linear. 1

Philip K. Dick Valis (1972)

180

180

180

181

181

ALICE CHAUCHAT, FRÉDÉRIC GIES
License: Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Work
EN

Praticable
Praticable is a collaborative research project between several artists
(currently: Alice Chauchat, Frédéric de Carlo, Frédéric Gies, Isabelle
Schad and Odile Seitz).
Praticable proposes itself as a horizontal work structure, which
brings research, creation, transmission and production structure into
relation with each other. This structure is the basis for the creation
of a variety of performances by either one or several of the project's
participants. In one way or another, these performances start from
the exploration of body practices, leading to a questioning of its representation. More concretely, Praticable takes the form of collective
periods of research and shared physical practices, both of which are
the basis for various creations. These periods of research can either
be independent of the different creation projects or integrated within
them.
During Jonctions/Verbindingen 10, Alice Chauchat and Frédéric
Gies gave a workshop for participants dealing with different ‘body
practices'. On the basis of Body-Mind Centering (BMC) techniques,
the body as a locus of knowledge production was made tangible. The
notation of the Dance performance with which Frédéric Gies concluded the day is reproduced in this book and published under an
open license.

figure 120
Workshop for
participants
with different
body
practices
at V/J10

figure 121
The body as
a locus of
knowledge
production
was made
tangible

figure 122

figure 123

184

Dance (Notation)
20 sec.
31. INTERCELLULAR flUID
Initiate movement in your intercellular fluid. Start slowly and
then put more and more energy
and speed in your movement, using intercellular fluid as a pump
to make you jump.

20 sec.
32. VENOUS BLOOD
Initiate movement in your venous
blood, rising and falling and following its waves.

20 sec.
33. VENOUS BLOOD
Initiate movement in your venous blood, slowing down progressively.

184

184

184

185

185

Less than 5 sec.
34. TRANSITION
Make visible in your movement a
transition from venous blood to
cerebrospinal fluid. finish in the
same posture you chose to start
PART 3.

1 min.
35. EACH flUID
Go through each fluid quality you
have moved with since the beginning of PART 3. The 1st one has
to be cerebrospinal fluid. After
this one, the order is free.

185

185

185

186

186

61. ALL GLANDS
Stand up slowly, building your
vertical axis from coccygeal body
to pineal gland. Use this time to
bound with earth through your
feet, as if you were growing roots.

INSTRUMENTAL (during the voice echo)
Down, down, down in your heart
find, find, find the secret
62. LOWER GLANDS OF THE
PELVIS
Dance as if you were dancing
in a club. Focus on your lower
glands, in your pelvis, to initiate your dance. Your arms, torso,
neck and head are also involved
in your dance.
SMALL PERIMETER
Turn, turn, turn your head around
63. MAMILLARY BODIES
Turn and turn your head around,
initiating this movement in
mamillary bodies. Let your head
drive the rest of your body into
turns.

186

186

186

187

187

Baby we can do it
We can do it alright
64. LOWER GLANDS OF THE
PELVIS
Dance as if you were dancing
in a club. Focus on your lower
glands, in your pelvis, to initiate your dance. Your arms, torso,
neck and head are also involved
in your dance.
Do you believe in love at first sight
It's an illusion, I don't care
Do you believe I can make you feel better
Too much confusion, come on over here
65. HEART BODY
Keep on dancing as if you were
dancing in a club and initiate
movements in your heart body,
connecting with your forearms
and hands.

License: Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Work

187

187

187

188

188

Mutual Motions Video Library
To be browsed, a vision to be displaced

figure 126

figure 125

Wearing the video library, performer Isabelle Bats presents a selection of films related to the themes of V/J10. As a living memory, the
discs and media players in the video library are embedded in a dress
designed by artists collective De Geuzen. Isabelle embodies an accessible interface between you (the viewer), and the videos. This human
interface allows for a mutual relationship: viewing the films influences
the experience of other parts of the program, and the situation and
context in which you watch the films play a role in experiencing and
interpreting the videos. A physical exchange between existing imagery, real-time interpretation, experiences and context, emerges as
a result.
The V/J10 video library collects excerpts of performance and dance
video art, and (documentary) film, which reflect upon our complex
body–technique relations. Searching for the indicating, probing, disturbing or subverting gesture(s) in the endless feedback loop between
technology, tools, data and bodies, we collected historical as well as
contemporary material for this temporary archive.

Modern Times or the Assembly Line
Reflects the body in work environments, which are structured by
technology, ranging from the pre-industrial manual work with analogue
tools, to the assembly line, to postmodern surveillance configurations.
24 Portraits
Excerpt from a series of documentary portraits by Alain Cavalier, FR,
1988-1991.

umentaries paying tribute to women's
manual work. The intriguing and sensitive portraits of 24 women working
in different trades reveal the intimacy
of bodies and their working tools.

24 Portraits is a series of short doc-

198

198

198

199

199

Humain, trop humain
Quotes from a documentary by Louis
Malle, FR, 1972.
A documentary filmed at the Citroen
car factory in Rennes and at the 1972
Paris auto show, documenting the monotonous daily routines of working the
assembly lines, the close interaction
between bodies and machines.

Performing the Border
Video essay by Ursula Biemann, CH,
1999, 45 min.
“Performing the Border is a video
essay set in the Mexican-U.S. border town Ciudad Juarez, where the
U.S. industries assemble their electronic and digital equipment, located
right across El Paso, Texas.
The
video discusses the sexualization of
the border region through labour division, prostitution, the expression of
female desires in the entertainment industry, and sexual violence in the public sphere. The border is presented
as a metaphor for marginalization and
the artificial maintenance of subjective boundaries at a moment when
the distinctions between body and machine, between reproduction and production, between female and male,
have become more fluid than ever.”
(Ursula Biemann)
http://www.geobodies.org

Maquilapolis (city of factories)
A film by Vicky Funari and Sergio
De La Torre, Mexico/U.S.A., 2006, 68
min.

Carmen works the graveyard shift in
one of Tijuana's maquiladoras, the
multinationally-owned factories that
came to Mexico for its cheap labour.
After making television components
all night, Carmen comes home to a
shack she built out of recycled garage
doors, in a neighbourhood with no
sewage lines or electricity. She suffers
from kidney damage and lead poisoning from her years of exposure to toxic
chemicals. She earns six dollars a day.
But Carmen is not a victim. She is a
dynamic young woman, busy making
a life for herself and her children.
As Carmen and a million other
maquiladora workers produce televisions, electrical cables, toys, clothes,
batteries and IV tubes, they weave
the very fabric of life for consumer nations. They also confront labour violations, environmental devastation and
urban chaos – life on the frontier of
the global economy. In Maquilapolis Carmen and her colleague Lourdes reach beyond the daily struggle for
survival to organize for change: Carmen takes a major television manufacturer to task for violating her labour
rights, Lourdes pressures the government to clean up a toxic waste dump
left behind by a departing factory.
As they work for change, the world
changes too: a global economic crisis
and the availability of cheaper labour
in China begin to pull the factories
away from Tijuana, leaving Carmen,
Lourdes and their colleagues with an
uncertain future.
A co-production of the Independent
Television Service (ITVS), project of
Creative Capital.
http://www.maquilapolis.com

199

199

199

200

200

Practices of everyday life
Everyday life as the place of a performative encounter between bodies
and tools, from the U.S.A. of the 70s to contemporary South Africa.

Saute ma ville
Chantal Akerman, B, 1968, 13 min.

states that, “When the woman speaks,
she names her own oppression.”

A girl returns home happily. She locks
herself up in her kitchen and messes up
the domestic world. In her first film,
Chantal Akerman explores a scattered
form of being, where the relationship
with the controlled human world literally explodes. Abolition of oneself,
explosion of oneself.

“I was concerned with something like
the notion of ‘language speaking the
subject', and with the transformation
of the woman herself into a sign in
a system of signs that represent a
system of food production, a system
of harnessed subjectivity.” (Martha
Rosler)

Semiotics of the Kitchen

Choreography

Video by Martha Rosler, U.S.A., 1975,
05:30 min.
Semiotics of the Kitchen adopts the
form of a parodic cooking demonstration in which, Rosler states, “An
anti-Julia Child replaces the domesticated ‘meaning' of tools with a lexicon
of rage and frustration.” In this performance-based work, a static camera is
focused on a woman in a kitchen. On
a counter before her are a variety of
utensils, each of which she picks up,
names and proceeds to demonstrate,
but with gestures that depart from the
normal uses of the tool. In an ironic
grammatology of sound and gesture,
the woman and her implements enter
and transgress the familiar system of
everyday kitchen meanings – the securely understood signs of domestic
industry and food production erupt
into anger and violence. In this alphabet of kitchen implements, Rosler

Video installation preview by Anke
Schäfer, NL/South Africa, 13:07 min
(loop), 2007.
Choreography reflects on the notion
‘Armed Response' as an inner state
of mind. The split screen projection
shows the movements of two women
commuting to their work. On the one
side, the German-South African Edda
Holl, who lives in the rich Northern
suburbs of Johannesburg. Her search
for a safe journey is characterized
by electronic security systems, remote
controls, panic buttons, her constant
cautiousness, the reassuring glances
in the tinted car windows. On the
other side, you see the African-South
African Gloria Fumba, who lives in
Soweto and whose security techniques
are very basic: clutching her handbag to her body, the way she cues for
the bus, avoiding to go home alone
when it's dark. A classical continuity

200

200

200

201

201

editing, as seen fiction film, suggests
at first a narrative storyline, but is
soon interrupted by moments of pause.
These pauses represent the desires of
both women to break with the safety
mechanism that motivates their daily
movements.

Television
Ximena Cuevas, Mexico, 1999, 2 min.
“The vacuum cleaner becomes the device of the feminist ‘liberation', or the
monster that devours us.” (Insite 2000
program, San Diego Museum of Art)

http://www.livemovie.org

Perform the script, write the score
Considers dance and performance as knowledge systems where movement and data interact. With excerpts of performance documents,
interviews and (dance) films. But also the script, the code, as system
of perversion, as an explorative space for the circulation of bodies.
William Forsythe's works
Choreography can be understood as
writing moving bodies into space, a
complex act of inscription, which is
situated on the borderline between
creating and remembering, future and
past. Movement is prescribed and is
passing at the same time. It can be
inscribed into the visceral body memory through constant repetition, but
it is also always undone:
As Laurie Anderson says:
“You're walking. And you don't always realize it, but you're always
falling. With each step you fall forward slightly. And then catch yourself from falling.
Over and over,
you're falling.
And then catching
your self from falling.” (Quoted after
Gabriele Brandstetter, ReMembering
the Body)
William Forsythe, for instance, considers classical ballet as a historical
form of a knowledge system loaded

with ideologies about society, the self,
the body, rather than a fixed set
of rules, which simply can be implemented. An arabesque is a platonic ideal for him, a prescription,
but it can't be danced: “There is
no arabesque, there is only everyone's arabesque.” His choreography
is concerned with remembering and
forgetting: referencing classical ballet, creating a geometrical alphabet,
which expands the classical form, and
searching for the moment of forgetfulness, where new movement can arise.
Over the years, he and his company
developed an understanding of dance
as a complex system of processing information with some analogies to computer programming.

Chance favours
pared mind

the

pre-

Educational dance film, produced by
Vlaams Theaterinstituut, Ministerie
van Onderwijs dienst Media and Informatie, dir. Anne Quirynen, 1990,

201

201

201

202

202

Rehearsal Last Supper

25 min.
Chance favours the prepared mind
features discussions and demonstrations by William Forsythe and four
Frankfurt Ballet Dancers about their
understanding of movement and their
working methods: “Dance is like writing or drawing, some sort of inscription.” (William Forsythe)

The way of the weed
Experimental dance film featuring
William Forsythe, Thomas McManus
and dancers of the Frankfurt Ballet,
An-Marie Lambrechts, Peter Missotten and Anne Quirynen, soundtrack:
Peter Vermeersch, 1997, 83 min.
In this experimental dance film, investigator Thomas is dropped in a desert
in 7079, not only to investigate the
growth movements of the plant life
there, but also the life's work of the
obscure scientist William F. (William
Forsythe), who has achieved numerous insights and discoveries on the
growth and movement of plants. This
knowledge is stored in the enormous
data bank of an underground laboratory. It is Thomas's task to hack into
his computer and check the professor's secret discoveries. His research
leads him into the catacombs of a
complex building, where he finds people stored in cupboards in a comatose
state. They are loaded with professor F.'s knowledge of vegetation. He
puts the ‘people-plants' into a large
transparent pool of water and notices
that in the water the ‘samples' come
to life again. . . A complex reflection
on (body) memory, (digital) archives
and movement as repetition and interference.

Video installation preview by Anke
Schäfer, NL/South Africa, 16:40 min.
(loop), 2007.
The work Rehearsal Last Supper combines a kind of ‘Three Stooges' physical, slapstick-style comedy, but with
far more serious subject matters such
as abuse, gender violence, and the
general breakdown of family relationships. It's a South African and mixed
couple re-enactment of a similar scene
that Bruce Nauman realized in the 70s
with a white, middle-aged man and
woman.
The experience, the ‘Gestalt' of the
experienced violence, the frustration
and the unwillingly or even forced internalization are felt to the core of the
voice and the body. Humour can help
to express the suppressed and to use
your pain as power.
Actors: Nat Ramabulana, Tarryn Lee,
Megan Reeks, Raymond Ngomane
(from Wits University Drama department), Kekeletso Matlabe, Lebogang
Inno, Thabang Kwebu, Paul Noko
(from Market Theatre Laboratory).
http://www.livemovie.org

Nest Of Tens
Miranda July, U.S.A., 1999, 27 min.
Nest Of Tens is comprised of four alternating stories, which reveal mundane yet personal methods of control.
These systems are derived from intuitive sources. Children and a retarded
adult operate control panels made out
of paper, lists, monsters, and their
own bodies.
“A young boy, home alone, performing

202

202

202

203

203

a bizarre ritual with a baby; an uneasy, aborted sexual flirtation between
a teenage babysitter and an older man;
an airport lounge encounter between a
businesswoman (played by July) and a
young girl. Linked by a lecturer enumerating phobias in a quasi-academic
seminar, these three perverse, unnerving scenarios involving children and
adults provide authentic glimpses into
the queasy strangeness that lies behind the everyday.” (New York Video
Festival, 2000)

In the field of players
Jeanne Van Heeswijk & Marten Winters, 2004, NL
Duration: 25.01.2004 – 31.01.2004
Location: TENT.Rotterdam
Participants: 106 through casting, 260
visitors of TENT.
Together with artist Marten Winters,
Van Heeswijk developed a ‘game:set'.
In cooperation with graphic designer
Roger Teeuwen, they marked out a
set of lines and fields on the ground.
Just like in a sporting venue, these
lines had no meaning until used by the
players. The relationship between the
players was revealed by the rules of the
game.
Designer Arienne Boelens created special game cards that were handed out
during the festival by the performance
artists Bliss. Both Bliss and the cards
turned up all over the festival, showing
up at every hot spot or special event.
Through these game cards people were

invited to fulfil the various roles of
the game – like ‘Round Miss' (the
girl who walks around the ring holding up a numbered card at the start
of each round at boxing matches),
‘40-plus male in (high) cultural position', ‘Teen girl with star ambitions',
‘Vital 65-plus'. But even ‘Whisperer',
and ‘Audience' were specific roles.

Writing Desire
Video essay by Ursula Biemann, CH,
2000, 25 min.

Writing Desire is a video essay on
the new dream screen of the Internet, and its impact on the global circulation of women's bodies from the
‘Third World' to the ‘first World'
. Although underage Philippine ‘pen
pals' and post-Soviet mail-order brides
have been part of the transnational
exchange of sex in the post-colonial
and post-Cold War marketplace of desire before the digital age, the Internet has accelerated these transactions.
The video provides the viewers with
a thoughtful meditation on the obvious political, economic and gender inequalities of these exchanges by simulating the gaze of the Internet shopper
looking for the imagined docile, traditional, pre-feminist, but Web-savvy
mate.
http://www.geobodies.org

203

203

203

204

204


INÈS RABADAN
License: Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike
EN

Does the repetition of a gesture irrevocably
lead to madness?

figure 127
Screening
Modern
Times at
V/J10

A personal introduction to Modern Times
(Charles Chaplin, 1936)
figure 128

One of the most memorable moments of Modern Times, is the one
where the tramp goes mad after having spent the whole day screwing
bolts on the assembly line. He is free: neither husband, nor worker,
nor follower of some kind of movement, nor even politically engaged.
His gestures are burlesque responses to the adversity in his life, or
just plain ‘exuberant'. But through the interaction with the machine,
however, he completely goes off the rails and ends up in prison.
Inès Rabadan made two short films in which a female protagonist
is confined by the fast-paced work of the assembly line. Tragically
and mercilessly, the machine changes the woman and reduces her to
a mechanical gesture – a gesture in which she sometimes takes pride,
precisely in order not to lose her sanity. Or else, she really goes mad,
ruined by the machine, eventually managing to free herself.

figure 129

figure 130


MICHAEL TERRY
License: Free Art License
EN

Data analysis as a discourse

figure 131
Michael
Terry in
between
LGM sessions

An interview with Michael Terry
Michael Terry is a computer scientist working at the Human Computer Interaction Lab of the University of Waterloo, Canada. His
main research focus is on improving usability in open source software, and ingimp is the first result of that work.
In a Skype conversation that was live broadcast in La Bellone during Verbindingen/Jonctions 10, we spoke about ingimp, a clone of the
popular image manipulation programme Gimp, but with an important difference. Ingimp allows users to record data about their usage
in to a central database, and subsequently makes this data available
to anyone.
At the Libre Graphics Meeting 2008 in Wroclaw, just before Michael
Terry presents ingimp to an audience of Gimp developers and users,
Ivan Monroy Lopez and Femke Snelting meet up with Michael Terry
again to talk more about the project and about the way he thinks
data analysis could be done as a form of discourse.

figure 132
Interview
at Wroclaw

Femke Snelting (FS) Maybe we could start this face-to-face conversation with a description of the ingimp project you are developing
and – what I am particularly interested in –, why you chose to work
on usability for Gimp?
Michael Terry (MT) So the project is ‘ingimp', which is an instrumented version of Gimp, it collects information about how the
software is used in practice. The idea is you download it, you install
it, and then with the exception of an additional start up screen, you
use it just like regular Gimp. So, our goal is to be as unobtrusive as
possible to make it really easy to get going with it, and then to just
217

217

217

218

218

forget about it. We want to get it into the hands of as many people
as possible, so that we can understand how the software is actually
used in practice. There are plenty of forums where people can express
their opinions about how Gimp should be designed, or what's wrong
with it, there are plenty of bug reports that have been filed, there
are plenty of usability issues that have been identified, but what we
really lack is some information about how people actually apply this
tool on a day to day basis. What we want to do is elevate discussion
above just anecdote and gut feelings, and to say, well, there is this
group of people who appear to be using it in this way, these are the
characteristics of their environment, these are the sets of tools they
work with, these are the types of images they work with and so on,
so that we have some real data to ground discussions about how the
software is actually used by people.
You asked me now why Gimp? I actually used Gimp extensively
for my PhD work. I had these little cousins come down and hang
out with me in my apartment after school, and I would set them up
with Gimp, and quite often they would start off with one picture,
they would create a sphere, a blue sphere, and then they played with
filters until they got something really different. I would turn to them
looking at what they had been doing for the past twenty minutes,
and would be completely amazed at the results they were getting
just by fooling around with it. And so I thought, this application
has lots and lots of power; I'd like to use that power to prototype
new types of interface mechanisms. So I created JGimp, which is
a Java based extension for the 1.0 Gimp series that I can use as a
back-end for prototyping novel user interfaces. I think that it is a
great application, there is a lot of power to it, and I had already an
investment in its code base, so it made sense to use that as a platform
for testing out ideas of open instrumentation.
FS: What is special about ingimp, is the fact that the data you
collect, is equally free to use, run, study and distribute, as the software
you are studying. Could you describe how that works?

218

218

218

219

219

MT: Every bit of data we collect, we make available: you can go to
the website, you can download every log file that we have collected.
The intent really is for us to build tools and infrastructure so that the
community itself can sustain this analysis, can sustain this form of
usability. We don't want to create a situation where we are creating
new dependencies on people, or where we are imposing new tasks on
existing project members. We want to create tools that follow the
same ethos as open source development, where anyone can look at
the source code, where anyone can make contributions, from filing
a bug to doing something as simple as writing a patch, where they
don't even have to have access to the source code repository, to make
valuable contributions. So importantly, we want to have a really low
barrier to participation. At the same time, we want to increase the
signal-to-noise ratio. Yesterday I talked with Peter Sikking, an information architect working for Gimp, and he and I both had this
experience where we work with user interfaces, and since everybody
uses an interface, everybody feels they are an expert, so there can be
a lot of noise. So, not only did we want to create an open environment for collecting this data, and analysing it, but we also wanted to
increase the chance that we are making valuable contributions, and
that the community itself can make valuable contributions. Like I
said, there is enough opinion out there. What we really need to do
is to better understand how the software is being used. So, we have
made a point from the start to try to be as open as possible with
everything, so that anyone can really contribute to the project.
FS: Ingimp has been running for a year now. What are you finding?
MT: I have started analysing the data, and I think one of the things
that we realised early on is that it is a very rich data set; we have lots
and lots of data. So, after a year we've had over 800 installations, and
we've collected about 5000 log files, representing over half a million
commands, representing thousands of hours of the application being
used. And one of the things you have to realise is that when you have
a data set of that size, there are so many different ways to look at it
that my particular perspective might not be enough. Even if you sit
219

219

219

220

220

someone down, and you have him or her use the software for twenty
minutes, and you videotape it, then you can spend hours analysing
just those twenty minutes of videotape. And so, I think that one of
the things we realised is that we have to open up the process so that
anyone could easily participate. We have the log files available, but
they really didn't have an infrastructure for analysing them. So, we
created this new piece of software called ‘Stats Jam', an extension
to MediaWiki, which allows anyone to go to the website and embed
SQL-queries against the ingimp data set and then visualise those
results within the Wiki text. So, I'll be announcing that today and
demonstrating that, but I have been using that tool now for a week
to complement the existing data analysis we have done.
One of the first things that we realized is that we have over 800
installations, but then you have to ask, how many of those are really serious users? A lot of people probably just were curious, they
downloaded it and installed it, found that it didn't really do much
for them and so maybe they don't use it anymore. So, the first thing
we had to do is figure out which data points should we really pay
attention to. We decided that a person should have used ingimp on
two different occasions, preferably at least a day apart, where they'd
saved an image on both of the instances. We used that as an indication of what a serious user is. So with that filter in place, the ‘800
installations' drops down to about 200 people. So we had about 200
people using ingimp; and looking at the data, this represents about
800 hours of use, about 4000 log files, and again still about half a
million commands. So, it's still a very significant group of people.
200 people are still a lot, and that's a lot of data, representing about
11000 images they have been working on – there's just a lot.
From that group, what we found is that use of ingimp is really
short and versatile. So, most sessions are about fifteen minutes or
less, on average. There are outliers, there are some people who use it
for longer periods of time, but really it boils down to them using it for
about fifteen minutes, and they are applying fewer than a hundred
operations when they are working on the image. I should probably
be looking at my data analysis as I say this, but they are very quick,
220

220

220

221

221

short, versatile sessions, and when they use it, they use less than 10
different tools, or they apply less than 10 different commands.
What else did we find? We found that the two most popular monitor resolutions are 1280 by 1024, and 1024 by 768. So, those represent
collectively 60 % of the resolutions, and really 1280 by 1024 represents
pretty much the maximum for most people, although you have some
higher resolutions. So one of the things that's always contentious
about Gimp, is its window management scheme and the fact that it
has multiple windows, right? And some people say, well you know,
this works fine if you have two monitors, because you can throw out
the tools on one monitor and then your images are on another monitor. Well, about 10 to 15 % of ingimp users have two monitors, so
that design decision is not working out for most of the people, if that
is the best way to work. These are things I think that people have
been aware of, it's just now we have some actual concrete numbers
where you can turn to and say: now this is how people are using it.
There is a wide range of tasks that people are performing with the
tool, but they are really short, quick tasks.
FS: Every time you start up ingimp, a screen comes up asking
you to describe what you are planning to do and I am interested in
the kind of language users invent to describe this, even when they
sometimes don't know exactly what it is they are going to do. So
inventing language for possible actions with the software has in a
way become a creative process that is now shared between interface
designer, developer and user. If you look at the ‘activity tags' you
are collecting, do you find a new vocabulary developing?
MT: I think there are 300 to 600 different activity tags that people
register within that group of ‘significant users'. I didn't have time to
look at all of them, but it is interesting to see how people are using
that as a medium for communicating to us. Some people will say,
“Just testing out, ignore this!” Or, people are trying to do things like
insert HTML code, to do like a cross-site scripting attack, because,
you have all the data on the website, so they will try to play with
that. Some people are very sparse and they say ‘image manipulation'
221

221

221

222

222

or ‘graphic design' or something like that, but then some people are
much more verbose, and they give more of a plan, “This is what I
expect to be doing.” So, I think it has been interesting to see how
people have adopted that and what's nice about it, is that it adds a
really nice human element to all this empirical data.
Ivan Monroy Lopez (IM): I wanted to ask you about the data;
without getting too technical, could you explain how these data are
structured, what do the log files look like?
MT: So the log files are all in XML, and generally we compress
them, because they can get rather large. And the reason that they
are rather large is that we are very verbose in our logging. We want
to be completely transparent with respect to everything, so that if
you have some doubts or if you have some questions about what kind
of data has been collected, you should be able to look at the log file,
and figure out a lot about what that data is. That's how we designed
the XML log files, and it was really driven by privacy concerns and
by the desire to be transparent and open. On the server side we take
that log file and we parse it out, and then we throw it into a database,
so that we can query the data set.
FS: Now we are talking about privacy. . . I was impressed by the
work you have done on this; the project is unusually clear about why
certain things are logged, and other things not; mainly to prevent
the possibility of ‘playing back' actions so that one could identify
individual users from the data set. So, while I understand there are
privacy issues at stake I was wondering... what if you could look at the
collected data as a kind of scripting for use, as writing a choreography
that might be replayed later?
MT: Yes, we have been fairly conservative with the type of information that we collect, because this really is the first instance where
anyone has captured such rich data about how people are using software on a day to day basis, and then made it all that data publicly
222

222

222

223

223

available. When a company does this, they will keep the data internally, so you don't have this risk of someone outside figuring something out about a user that wasn't intended to be discovered. We
have to deal with that risk, because we are trying to go about this
in a very open and transparent way, which means that people may
be able to subject our data to analysis or data mining techniques
that we haven't thought of, and extract information that we didn't
intent to be recording in our file, but which is still there. So there are
fairly sophisticated techniques where you can do things like look at
audio recordings of typing and the timings between keystrokes, and
then work backwards with the sounds made to figure out the keys
that people are likely pressing. So, just with keyboard audio and
keystroke timings alone, you can often give enough information to be
able to reconstruct what people are actually typing. So we are always
sort of weary about how much information is in there.
While it might be nice to be able to do something like record people's actions and then share that script, I don't think that that is
really a good use of ingimp. That said, I think it is interesting to
ask: could we characterize people's use enough, so that we can start
clustering groups of people together and then providing a forum for
these people to meet and learn from one another? That's something
we haven't worked out. I think we have enough work cut out for us
right now just to characterize how the community is using it.
FS: It was not meant as a feature request, but as a way to imagine
how usability research could flip around and also become productive
work.
MT: Yes, totally. I think one of the things that we found when
bringing people into the basic usability of the ingimp software and
ingimp website, is that people like looking at what commands other
people are using, what the most frequently used commands are; and
part of the reason that they like that, is because of what it teaches
them about the application. So they might see a command they were
unaware of. So we have toyed with the idea of then providing not
223

223

223

224

224

only the command name, but then a link from that command name
to the documentation – but I didn't have time to implement it, but
certainly there are possibilities like that, you can imagine.
FS: Maybe another group can figure something out like that? That's
the beauty of opening up your software plus data set of course.
Well, just a bit more on what is logged and what not... Maybe you
could explain where and why you put the limit, and what kind of use
you might miss out on as a result?
MT: I think it is important to keep in mind that whatever instrument you use to study people, you are going to have some kind of
bias, you are going to get some information at the cost of other information. So if you do a video taped observation of a user and you
just set up a camera, then you are not going to find details about
the monitor maybe, or maybe you are not really seeing what their
hands are doing. No matter what instrument you use, you are always
getting a particular slice.
I think you have to work backwards and ask what kind of things
do you want to learn. And so the data that we collect right now, was
really driven by what people have done in the past in the area of instrumentation, but also by us bringing people into the lab, observing
them as they are using the application, and noticing particular behaviours and saying, hey, that seems to be interesting, so what kind of
data could we collect to help us identify those kind of phenomena, or
that kind of performance, or that kind of activity? So again, the data
that we were collecting was driven by watching people, and figuring
out what information will help us to identify these types of activities.
As I've said, this is really the first project that is doing this, and
we really need to make sure we don't poison the well. So if it happens that we collect some bit of information, that then someone can
later say, “Oh my gosh, here is the person's file system, here are the
names they are using for the files” or whatever, then it's going to
make the normal user population weary of downloading this type of
224

224

224

225

225

instrumented application. The thing that concerns me most about
open source developers jumping into this domain, is that they might
not be thinking about how you could potentially impact privacy.
IM: I don't know, I don't want to get paranoid. But if you are
doing it, then there is a possibility someone else will do it in a less
considerate way.
MT: I think it is only a matter of time before people start doing
this, because there are a lot of grumblings about, “We should be
doing instrumentation, someone just needs to sit down and do it.”
Now there is an extension out for firefox that will collect this kind
of data as well, so you know. . .
IM: Maybe users could talk with each other, and if they are aware
that this type of monitoring could happen, then that would add a
different social dimension. . .
MT: It could. I think it is a matter of awareness, really. We have a
lengthy concern agreement that details the type of information we are
collecting and the ways your privacy could be impacted, but people
don't read it.
FS: So concretely... what information are you recording, and what
information are you not recording?
MT: We record every command name that is applied to a document,
to an image. Where your privacy is at risk with that, is that if you
write a custom script, then that custom script's name is going to be
inserted into a log file. And so if you are working for example for Lucas
or DreamWorks or something like that, or ILM, in some Hollywood
movie studio and you are using ingimp and you are writing scripts,
then you could have a script like ‘fixing Shrek's beard', and then that
is getting put into the log file and then people are going to know that
the studio uses ingimp.
225

225

225

226

226

We collect command names, we collect things like what windows
are on the screen, their positions, their sizes, and we take hashes of
layer names and file names. We take a string and then we create a
hash code for it, and we also collect information about how long is
this string, how many alphabetical characters, numbers; things like
that, to get a sense of whether people are using the same files, the
same layer names time and time again, and so on. But this is an
instance where our first pass at this, actually left open the possibility
of people taking those hashes and then reconstructing the original
strings from that. Because we have the hash code, we have the length
of the string – all you have to do is generate all possible strings of
that length, take the hash codes and figure out which hashes match.
And so we had to go back and create a new scheme for recording this
type of information where we create a hash and we create a random
number, we pair those up on the client machine but we only log the
random number. So, from log to log then, we can track if people
use the same image names, but we have no idea of what the original
string was.
There are these little ‘gotchas' like that, that I don't think most
people are aware of, and this is why I get really concerned about
instrumentation efforts right now, because there isn't this body of
experience of what kind of data should we collect, and what shouldn't
we collect.
FS: As we are talking about this, I am already more aware of what
data I would allow being collected. Do you think by opening up this
data set and the transparent process of collecting and not collecting,
this will help educate users about these kinds of risks?
MT: It might, but honestly I think probably the thing that will
educate people the most is if there was a really large privacy error
and that it got a lot of news, because then people would become more
aware of it because right now – and this is not to say that we want
that to happen with ingimp – but when we bring people in and we ask
them about privacy, “Are you concerned about privacy?” and they
say “No”, and we say “Why?” Well, they inherently trust us, but the
226

226

226

227

227

fact is that open source also lends a certain amount of trust to it,
because they expect that since it is open source, the community will
in some sense police it and identify potential flaws with it.
FS: Is that happening? Are you in dialogue with the open source
community about this?
MT: No, I think probably five to ten people have looked at the
ingimp code – realistically speaking I don't think a lot of people looked
at it. Some of the Gimp developers took a gander at it to see “How
could we put this upstream?” But I don't want it upstream, because
I want it to always be an opt-in, so that it can't be turned on by
mistake.
FS: You mean you have to download ingimp and use it as a separate
program? It functions in the same way as Gimp, but it makes the
fact that it is a different tool very clear.
MT: Right. You are more aware, because you are making that
choice to download that, compared to the regular version. There is
this awareness about that.
We have this lengthy text based consent agreement that talks about
the data we collect, but less than two percent of the population reads
license agreements. And, most of our users are actually non-native
English speakers, so there are all these things that are working against
us. So, for the past year we have really been focussing on privacy, not
only in terms of how we collect the data, but how we make people
aware of what the software does.
We have been developing wordless diagrams to illustrate how the
software functions, so that we don't have to worry about localisation
errors as much. And so we have these illustrations that show someone
downloading ingimp, starting it up, a graph appears, there is a little
icon of a mouse and a keyboard on the graph, and they type and you
see the keyboard bar go up, and then at the end when they close the
application, you see the data being sent to a web server. And then
227

227

227

228

228

we show snapshots of them doing different things in the software, and
then show a corresponding graph change. So, we developed these by
bringing in both native and non-native speakers, having them look at
the diagrams and then tell us what they meant. We had to go through
about fifteen people and continual redesign until most people could
understand and tell us what they meant, without giving them any
help or prompts. So, this is an ongoing research effort, to come up
with techniques that not only work for ingimp, but also for other
instrumentation efforts, so that people can become more aware of the
implications.
FS: Can you say something about how this type of research relates
to classic usability research and in particular to the usability work
that is happening in Gimp?
MT: Instrumentation is not new, commercial software companies
and researchers have been doing instrumentation for at least ten years,
probably ten to twenty years. So, the idea is not new, but what is
new – in terms of the research aspects of this –, is how do we do this
in a way where we can make all the data open? The fact that you
make the data open, really impacts your decision about the type of
data you collect and how you are representing it. And you need to
really inform people about what the software does.
But I think your question is... how does it impact the Gimp's
usability process? Not at all, right now. But that is because we have
intentionally been laying off to the side, until we got to the point
where we had an infrastructure, where the entire community could
really participate with the data analysis. We really want to have
this to be a self-sustaining infrastructure, we don't want to create a
system where you have to rely on just one other person for this to
work.
IM: What approach did you take in order to make this project
self-sustainable?
228

228

228

229

229

MT: Collecting data is not hard. The challenge is to understand
the data, and I don't want to create a situation where the community
is relying on only one person to do that kind of analysis, because this
is dangerous for a number of reasons. first of all, you are creating
a dependency on an external party, and that party might have other
obligations and commitments, and might have to leave at some point.
If that is the case, then you need to be able to pass the baton to
someone else, even if that could take a considerate amount of time
and so on.
You also don't want to have this external dependency, because of
the richness in the data, you really need to have multiple people
looking at it, and trying to understand and analyse it. So how are
we addressing this? It is through this Stats Jam extension to the
MediaWiki that I will introduce today. Our hope is that this type
of tool will lower the barrier for the entire community to participate
in the data analysis process, whether they are simply commenting on
the analysis we made or taking the existing analysis, tweaking it to
their own needs, or doing something brand new.
In talking with members of the Gimp project here at the Libre
Graphics Meeting, they started asking questions like, “So how many
people are doing this, how many people are doing this and how many
this?” They'll ask me while we are sitting in a café, and I will be able
to pop the database open and say, “A certain number of people have
done this.” or, “No one has actually used this tool at all.”
The danger is that this data is very rich and nuanced, and you
can't really reduce these kinds of questions to an answer of “N people
do this”, you have to understand the larger context. You have to
understand why they are doing it, why they are not doing it. So, the
data helps to answer some questions, but it generates new questions.
They give you some understanding of how the people are using it,
but then it generates new questions of, “Why is this the case?” Is this
because these are just the people using ingimp, or is this some more
widespread phenomenon?
They asked me yesterday how many people are using this colour
picker tool – I can't remember the exact name – so I looked and there
229

229

229

230

230

was no record of it being used at all in my data set. So I asked them
when did this come out, and they said, “Well it has been there at
least since 2.4.” And then you look at my data set, and you notice
that most of my users are in the 2.2 series, so that could be part of
the reasons. Another reason could be, that they just don't know that
it is there, they don't know how to use it and so on. So, I can answer
the question, but then you have to sort of dig a bit deeper.
FS: You mean you can't say that because it is not used, it doesn't
deserve any attention?
MT: Yes, you just can't jump to conclusions like that, which is
again why we want to have this community website, which shows the
reasoning behind the analysis: here are the steps we had to go through
to get this result, so you can understand what that means, what the
context means – because if you don't have that context, then it's sort
of meaningless. It's like asking, “What are the most frequently used
commands?” This is something that people like to ask about. Well
really, how do you interpret that? Is it the numbers of times it has
been used across all log files? Is it the number of people that have
used it? Is it the number of log files where it has been used at least
once? There are lots and lots of ways in which you can interpret
this question. So, you really need to approach this data analysis as
a discourse, where you are saying: here are my assumptions, here is
how I am getting to this conclusion, and this is what it means for
this particular group of people. So again, I think it is dangerous if
one person does that and you become to rely on that one person. We
really want to have lots of people looking at it, and considering it,
and thinking about the implications.
FS: Do you expect that this will impact the kind of interfaces that
can be done for Gimp?
MT: I don't necessarily think it is going to impact interface design,
I see it really as a sort of reality check: this is how communities are
using the software and now you can take that information and ask,
230

230

230

231

231

do we want to better support these people or do we. . . For example
on my data set, most people are working on relatively small images
for short periods of time, the images typically have one or two layers,
so they are not really complex images. So regarding your question,
one of the things you can ask is, should we be creating a simple tool
to meet these people's needs? All the people are just doing cropping
and resizing, fairly common operations, so should we create a tool
that strips away the rest of the stuff? Or, should we figure out why
people are not using any other functionality, and then try to improve
the usability of that?
There are so many ways to use data – I don't really know how
it is going to be used, but I know it doesn't drive design. Design
happens from a really good understanding of the users, the types of
tasks they perform, the range of possible interface designs that are
out there, lots of prototyping, evaluating those prototypes and so on.
Our data set really is a small potential part of that process. You can
say, well, according to this data set, it doesn't look like many people
are using this feature, let's not too much focus on that, let's focus on
these other features or conversely, let's figure out why they are not
using them. . . Or you might even look at things like how big their
monitor resolutions are, and say, well, given the size of the monitor
resolution, maybe this particular design idea is not feasible. But I
think it is going to complement the existing practices, in the best
case.
FS: And do you see a difference in how interface design is done in
free software projects, and in proprietary software?
MT: Well, I have been mostly involved in the research community,
so I don't have a lot of exposure to design projects. I mean, in my
community we are always trying to look at generating new knowledge,
and not necessarily at how to get a product out the door. So, the
goals or objectives are certainly different.

231

231

231

232

232

I think one of the dangers in your question is that you sort of
lump a lot of different projects and project styles into one category
of ‘open source'. ‘Open source' ranges from volunteer driven projects
to corporate projects, where they are actually trying to make money
out of it. There is a huge diversity of projects that are out there;
there is a wide diversity of styles, there is as much diversity in the
open source world as there is in the proprietary world.
One thing you can probably say, is that for some projects that are
completely volunteer driven like Gimp, they are resource strapped.
There is more work than they can possibly tackle with the number of
resources they have. That makes it very challenging to do interface
design; I mean, when you look at interface code, it costs you 50 or 75
% of a code base. That is not insignificant, it is very difficult to hack,
and you need to have lots of time and manpower to be able to do
significant things. And that's probably one of the biggest differences
you see for the volunteer driven projects: it is really a labour of
love for these people and so very often the new things interest them,
whereas with a commercial software company developers are going to
have to do things sometimes they don't like, because that is what is
going to sell the product.

232

232

232

233

233


SADIE PLANT
License: Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike
Interwoven with her own thoughts and experiences, Sadie Plant gave a situated report on the Mutual
Motions track, and responded to the issues discussed during the week-end.

figure 146
Sadie Plant
reports
at V/J10

EN

A Situated Report
I have to begin with many thanks to Femke and Laurence, because
it really has been a great pleasure for me to have been here this weekend. It's nearly five years since I came to an event like this, believe
it or not, and I really cannot say enough how much I have enjoyed it,
and how stimulating I have found it. So yes, a big thank you to both
for getting me here. And as you say, it's ten years since I wrote Zeros
+ Ones, and you are marking ten years of this festival too, so it's an
interesting moment to think about a lot of the issues that have come
up over the weekend. This is a more or less spontaneous report, very
much an ‘open performance', to use Simon Yuill's words, and not to
be taken as any kind of definitive account of what has happened this
weekend. But still I hope it can bring a few of the many and varied strands of this event together, not to form a true conclusion, but
perhaps to provide some kind of digestif after a wonderful meal.
I thought I should begin as Femke very wisely began, with the
theme of cooking. Femke gave us a recipe at the beginning of the
weekend, really a kind of recipe for the whole event, with cooking as
an example of the fact that there are many models, many activities,
many things that we do in our everyday lives, which might inform
and expand our ideas about technology and how we work with them.
So, I too will begin with this idea of cooking, which is as Femke
said a very magical, transformative experience. Femke's clip from
the Cathérine Deneuve film was a really lovely instance of the kind
of deep elemental, magical chemistry which goes on in cooking. It is
this that makes it such an instructive and interesting candidate, for a
model to illuminate the work of programming, which itself obviously
has this same kind of potential to bring something into effect in a very
275

275

275

276

276

direct and immediate sense. And cooking is also the work behind the
scene, the often forgotten work, again a little bit like programming,
that results in something which – again like a lot of technology – can
operate on many different scales. Cooking is in one sense the most
basic kind of activity, a simple matter of survival, but it can also
work on a gourmet level too, where it becomes the most refined – and
well paid – kind of work. It can be the most detailed, fiddly, sort of
decorative work; it can be the most backbreaking, heavy industrial
work – bread making for example as well. So it really covers the whole
panoply of these extremes.
If we think about a recipe, and ask ourselves about the machine that
the recipe requires, it's obviously running on an incredibly complex
assemblage: you have the kitchen, you have all the ingredients, you
have machines for cooling things, machines for heating things, you
have the person doing the cooking, the tools in question. We really
are talking here about a complex process, and not just an end result.
The process is also, again, a very ‘open' activity. Simon Yuill defined
an `open performance' as a partial composition completed in the
performance.
Cooking is always about experimentation and the kitchen really is
a kind of lab. The instructions may be exact, the conditions may be
more or less precise but the results are never the same twice. There
are just too many variables, too many contingencies involved. Of
course like any experimental work, it can go completely wrong, it
often does go wrong: sometimes it really is all about process, and
not about eating at all! But as Simon again said today, quoting Sun
Ra: there are no real mistakes, there are no truly wrong things. This
was certainly the case with the fantastic cooking process that we
had throughout the whole day yesterday, which ended with us eating
these fantastic mussels, which I am sure elpueblodechina thought in
fact were not as they should have been. But only she knew what
she was aiming at: for the people who ate them they were delicious,
their flavour enhanced by the whole experience of their production.
elpueblodechina's meal made us ask: what does it mean for something
to go wrong? She was using a cooking technique which has come out
of generations and generations of errors, mistakes, probings, fallings
276

276

276

277

277

backs, not just simply a continuous kind of story of progress, success,
and forward movement. So the mistakes are clearly always a very big
part of how things work in life, in any context in life, but especially
of course in the context of programming and working with software
and working with technologies, which we often still tend to assume
are incredibly reliable, logical systems, but in fact are full of glitches
and errors. As thinkers and activists resistant to and critical of mainstream methods and cultures, this is something that we need to keep
encouraging.
I have for a long time been interested in textiles, and I can't resist mentioning the fact that the word ‘recipe' was the old word for
knitting patterns: people didn't talk about knitting patterns, but
‘recipes' for knitting. This brings us to another interesting junction
with another set of very basic, repetitive kinds of domestic and often
overlooked activities, which are nevertheless absolutely basic to human existence. Just as we all eat food, so we all wear clothes. As with
cooking, the production of textiles again has this same kind of sense
of being very basic to our survival, very elemental in that sense, but
it can also function at a high level of detailed, refined activity as well.
With a piece of knitting it is difficult to see the ways in which a single
thread becomes looped into a continuous textile. But if you look at a
woven pattern, the program that has led to the pattern is right there
in front of you, as you see the textile itself. This makes weaving a
very nice, basic and early example of how this kind of immediacy can
be brought into operation. What you look at in a piece of woven cloth
is not just a representation of something that can happen somewhere
else, but the actual instructions for producing and reproducing that
piece of woven cloth as well. So that's the kind of deep intuitive connection that it has with computer programming, as well as the more
linear historical connections of which I have often spoken.
There are some other nice connections between textiles, cooking
and programming as well. Several times yesterday there was a lot
of talk about both experts and amateurs, and developers and users.
These are divisions which constantly, and often perhaps with good
reason, reassert themselves, and often carry gendered connotations
too. In the realm of cooking, you have the chef on the one hand,
277

277

277

278

278

who is often male and enjoys the high status of the inventive, creative expert, and the cook on the other, who is more likely to be
female and works under quite a different rubric. In reality, it might
be said that the distinction is far from precise: the very practise of
using computers, of cooking, of knitting, is almost inevitably one of
constantly contributing to their development, because they are all relatively open systems and they all evolve through people's constant,
repetitive use of them. So it is ultimately very difficult to distinguish
between the user and the developer, or the expert and the amateur.
The experiment, the research, the development is always happening
in the kitchen, in the bedroom, on the bus, using your mobile or
using your computer. Fernand Braudel speaks about this kind of ‘micro-histories', this sense of repetitive activity, which is done in many
trades and many lines, and that really is the deep unconscious history
of human activity. And arguably that's where the most interesting
developments happen, albeit in a very unsung, unseen, often almost
hidden way. It is this kind of deep collectivity, this profound sense of
micro-collaboration, which has often been tapped into this weekend.
Still, of course, the social and conceptual divisions persist, and
still, just as we have our celebrity chefs, so we have our celebrity
programmers and dominant corporate software developers. And just
as we have our forgotten and overlooked cooks, so we have people who
are dismissed, or even dismiss themselves, as ‘just computer users'.
The technological realities are such that people are often forced into
this role, with programmes that really are so fixed and closed that
almost nothing remains for the user to contribute. The structural
and social divisions remain, and are reproduced on gendered lines as
well.
In the 1940s, computer programming was considered to be extremely menial, and not at all a glamorous or powerful activity.
Then of course, the business of dealing with the software was strictly
women's work, and it was with the hardware of the system that the
most powerful activity lay. That was where the real solid development was done, and that was where the men were working, with what
were then the real nuts and bolts of the machines. Now of course, it
has all turned around. It is women who are building the chips and
278

278

278

279

279

putting the hardware – such as it is these days – together, while the
male expertise has shifted to the writing of software. In only half a
century, the evolution of the technology has shifted the whole notion
of where the power lies. No doubt – and not least through weekends
like this – the story will keep moving on.
But as the world of computing does move more and more into
software and leave the hardware behind, it is accompanied by the
perceived danger that the technology and, by extension, the cultures
around it, tend to become more and more disembodied and intangible.
This has long been seen as a danger because it tends to reinforce what
have historically, in the Western world at least, been some of the more
oppressive tendencies to affect women and all the other bodies that
haven't quite fitted the philosophical ideal. Both the Platonic and
Christian traditions have tended to dismissing or repress the body,
and with it all the kind of messy, gritty, tangible stuff of culture,
as transient, difficult, and flawed. And what has been elevated is of
course the much more formal, idealist, disembodied kind of activities
and processes. This is a site of continual struggle, and I guess part of
the purpose of a weekend like this is to keep working away, re-injecting
some sense of materiality, of physicality, of the body, of geography,
into what are always in danger of becoming much more formal and
disembodied worlds. What Femke and Laurence have striven to remind us this weekend is that however elevated and removed our work
appears to be from the matter of bodies and physical techniques,
we remain bodies, complex material processes, working in a complex
material work.
Once again, there still tends to be something of a gendered divide.
The dance workshop organised this morning by Alice Chauchat and
Frédéric Gies was an inspiring but also difficult experience for many
of us, unused as we are to using our bodies in such literally physical
and public ways. It was not until we came out of the workshop into
a space which was suddenly mixed in terms of gender, that I realised
that the participants in the workshop had been almost exclusively
female. It was only the women who had gone to this kind of more
physical, embodied, and indeed personally challenging part of the
weekend. But we all need to continually re-engage with this sense
279

279

279

280

280

of the body, all this messiness and grittiness, which it is in many
vested interests to constantly cleanse from the world. We have to
make ourselves deal with all the embarrassment, the awkwardness,
and the problematic side of this more tangible and physical world.
For that reason it has been fantastic that we have had such strong
input from people involved in dance and physical movement, people
working with bodies and the real sense of space. Sabine Prokhoris
and Simon Hecquet made us think about what it means to transcribe
the movements of the body; Séverine Dusollier and Valérie Laure
Benabou got us to question the legal status of such movements too.
And what we have gained from all of this is this sense that we are all
always working with our bodies, we are always using our bodies, with
more or less awareness and talent, of course, whether we are dancing
or baking or knitting or slumped over our keyboards. In some ways we
shouldn't even need to say it, but the fact that we do need to remind
ourselves of our embodiment shows just how easy it is for us to forget
our physicality. This morning's dance workshop really showed some
of the virtues of being able to turn off one's self-consciousness, to
dismiss the constantly controlling part of one's self and to function
on a different, slightly more automatic level. Or perhaps one might
say just to prioritise a level of bodily activity, of bodily awareness,
of a sense of spatiality that is so easy to forget in our very cerebral
society.
What Frédéric and Alice showed us was not simply about using the
body, but rather how to overcome the old dualism of thinking of the
body as a kind of servant of the mind. Perhaps this is how we should
think about our relationships to our technologies as well, not just to
see them as our servants, and ourselves as the authors or subjects of
the activity, but rather to perceive the interactivity, the sense of an
interplay, not between two dualistic things, the body and the mind, or
the agent and the tool, the producer and the user, but to try and see
much more of a continuum of different levels and different kinds and
different speeds of material activity, some very big and clunky, others at extremely complex micro-levels. During the dance workshop,
Frédéric talked about all the synaptic connections that are happening as one moves one's body, in order to instil in us this awareness
280

280

280

281

281

of ourselves as physical, material, thinking machines, assemblages of
many different kinds of activity. And again, I think this idea of bringing together dance, food, software, and brainpower, to see ourselves
operating at all these different levels, has been extremely rewarding.
Femke asked a question of Sabine and Simon yesterday, which perhaps never quite got answered, but expressed something about how
as people living in this especially wireless world, we are now carrying more and more technical devices, just as I am now holding this
microphone, and how these additional machines might be changing
our awarenesses of ourselves. Again it came up this morning in the
workshop when we were asked to imagine that we might have different parts of our bodies, another head, or our feet may have mirrors
in them, or in one brilliant example that we might have magnets,
so that we were forced to have parts of our bodies drawn together
in unlikely combinations, just to imagine a different kind of sense of
self that you get from that experience, or a different way of moving
through space. But in many ways, because of our technologies now,
we don't need to imagine such shifts: we are most of us now carrying
some kind of telecommunicating device, for example, and while we
are not physically attached to our machines – not yet anyway –, we
are at least emotionally attached to them. Often they are very much
with us and part of us: the mobile phone in your pocket is to hand,
it is almost a part of us. And I too am very interested in how that
has changed not only our more intellectual conceptions of ourselves,
but also our physical selves. The fact that I am holding this thing
[the microphone] obviously does change my body, its capacities, and
its awareness of itself. We are all aware of this to some extent: everyone knows that if you put on very formal clothes, for example, you
behave in different ways, your body and your whole experience of its
movement and spatiality changes. Living in a very conservative part
of Pakistan a few years ago, where I had to really be completely covered up and just show my eyes, gave me an acute sense of this kind
of change: I had to sit, stand, walk and turn to look at things in an
entirely new set of ways. In a less dramatic but equally affective way,
wirelessness obviously introduces a new sense of our bodies, of what
we can do with our bodies, of what we carry with us on our bodies,
281

281

281

282

282

and consequently of who we are and how we interact with our environment. And in this sense wirelessness has also brought the body
back into play, rescuing us from what only ten years ago seemed to
be the very real dangers of a more formal and disembodied sense of a
virtual world, which was then imagined as some kind of ‘other place'
, a notion of cyberspace, up there somehow, in an almost heavenly
conception. Wirelessness has made it possible for computer devices to
operate in an actual, geographical environment: they can now come
with us. We can almost start to talk more realistically about a much
more interesting notion of the cyborg, rather than some big clunky
thing trailing wires. It really can start to function as a more interesting idea, and I am very interested in the political and philosophical
implications of this development as well, and in that it does reintroduce the body to as I say what was in danger of becoming a very
kind of abstract and formal kind of cyberspace. It brings us back into
touch with ourselves and our geographies.
The interaction between actual space and virtual space, has been
another theme of this weekend; this ability to translate, to move between different kinds of spaces, to move from the analogue to the
digital, to negotiate the interface between bodies and machines. Yesterday we heard from Adrian Mackenzie about digital signal processing, the possibility of moving between that real sort of analogue world
of human experience and the coding necessary to computing. Sabine
and Simon talked about the possibilities of translating movement into
dance, and this also has come up several times today, and also with
Simon's work in relation to music and notation. Simon and Sabine
made the point that with the transcription and reading of a dance,
one is offered – rather as with a recipe – the same ingredients, the
same list of instructions, but once again as with cooking, you will
never get the same dance, or you will never get the same food as a
consequence. They were interested in the idea of notation, not to
preserve or to conserve, but rather to be able to send food or dance
off into the future, to make it possible in the future. And Simon
referred to these fantastic diagrams from The Scratch Orchestra, as
an entirely different way of conceiving and perceiving music, not as
a score, a notation in this prescriptive, conserving sense of the word,
282

282

282

283

283

but as the opportunity to take something forward into the future.
And to do so not by writing down the sounds, or trying to capture
the sounds, but rather as a way of describing the actions necessary
to produce those sounds, is almost to conceive the production of music as a kind of dance, and again to emphasise its embodiment and
physicality.
This sense of performance brings into play the idea of ‘play' itself,
whether ‘playing' a musical instrument, ‘playing' a musical score, or
‘playing' the body in an effort to dance. I think in some dance traditions one speaks about ‘playing the body'; in Tai Chi it is certainly
said that one plays the body, as though it was an instrument. And
when I think about what I have been doing for the last five years,
it's involved having children, it's involved learning languages, it's involved doing lots of cooking, and lots of playing, funny enough. And
what has been lovely for me about this weekend is that all of these
things have been discussed, but they haven't been just discussed, they
have actually been done as well. So we have not only thought about
cooking, but cooking has happened, not only with the mussels, but
also with the fantastic food that has been provided all weekend. We
haven't just thought about dancing, but dancing has actually been
done. We haven't just thought about translating, but with great
thanks to the translators – who I think have often had a very difficult job – translating has also happened as well. And in all of these
cases we have seen what might so easily have been a simply theoretical discussion, has itself been translated into real bodily activity:
they have all been, literally, brought into play. And this term ‘play'
, which spans a kind of mathematical play of numbers, in relation to
software and programming, and also the world of music and dance,
has enormous potential for us all: Simon talked about ‘playing free'
as an alternative term to ‘improvisation', and this notion of ‘playing
free' might well prove very useful in relation to all these questions of
making music, using the body, and even playing the system in terms
of subverting or hacking into the mainstream cultural and technical
programs with which we presented.

283

283

283

284

284

This weekend was inspired by several desires and impulses to which
I feel very sympathetic, and which remain very urgent in all our debates about technology. As we have seen, one of the most important
of those desires is to reinsert the body into what is always in danger of becoming a disembodied realm of computing and technology.
And to reinsert that body not as a kind of Chaplinesque cog in the
wheel that we saw when Inès Rabadán introduced Modern Times last
night, but as something more problematic, something more complex
and more interesting. And also not to do so nostalgically, with some
idea of some kind of lost natural activity that we need to regain, or to
reassert, or to reintroduce. There is no true body, there is no natural
body, that we can recapture from some mythical past and bring back
into play. At the same time we need to find a way of moving forward,
and inserting our senses of bodies and physicality into the future, to
insist that there is something lively and responsive and messy and
awkward always at work in what could have the tendency otherwise
to be a world of closed systems and dead loops.
One of the ways of doing this is to constantly problematise both
individualised conceptions of the body and orthodox notions of communities and groups. Michael Terry's presentation about ingimp, developed in order to imagine the community of people who are using
his image manipulation software, raised some very problematic issues
about the notion of community, which were also brought up again by
Simon today, with this ideas about collaboration and collectivity, and
what exactly it means to come together and try to escape an individualised notion of one's own work. Femke's point to Michael exemplified
the ways in which the notion of community has some real dangers:
Michael or his team had done the representations of the community
themselves – so if people told them they were graphic artists, they
had found their own kind of symbols for what a graphic artist would
look like –, and when Femke suggested that people – especially if
they were graphic artists – might be capable of producing their own
representations and giving their own way of imagining themselves,
Michael's response was to the effect that people might then come up
with what he and his team would consider to be ‘undesirable images'
of themselves. And this of course is the age old problem with the idea
284

284

284

285

285

of a community: an open, democratic grouping is great when you're
in it and you all agree what's desirable, but what happens to all the
people that don't quite fit the picture? How open can one afford to
be? We need some broader, different senses of how to come together
which, as Alice and Frédéric were discussed, are ways of collaborating
without becoming a new fixed totality. If we go back to the practices
of cooking, weaving, knitting, and dancing, these long histories of
very everyday activities that people have performed for generation
after generation, in every culture in the world – it is at this level that
we can see a kind of collective activity, which is way beyond anything
one might call a ‘community' in the self-conscious sense of the term.
And it's also way beyond any simple notion of a distributed collection of individuals: it is perhaps somewhere at the junction of these
modes, an in-between way of working which has come together in its
own unconscious ways over long periods of time.
This weekend has provided a rich menu of questions and themes to
feed in and out of the writing and use of software, as well as all our
other ways of dealing with our machines, ourselves, and each other.
To keep the body and all its flows and complexities in play, in a lively
and productive sense; to keep all the interruptive possibilities alive;
to stop things closing down; to keep or to foster the sense of collectivity in a highly individualised and totalising world; to find new
ways – constantly find new ways – of collaborating and distributing
information: these are all crucial and ongoing struggles in which we
must all remain continually engaged. And I notice even now that I
used this term ‘to keep', as though there was something to conserve
and preserve, as though the point of making the recipes and writing
the programs is to preserve something. But the ‘keeping' in question
here is much more a matter of ‘keeping on', of constantly inventing
and producing without, as Simon said earlier, leaving ourselves too
vulnerable to all the new kinds of exploitation, the new kinds of territorialisation, which are always waiting around the corner to capture
even the most fluid and radical moves we make. This whole weekend
has been an energising reminder, a stimulating and inspiriting call to

285

285

285

286

286

keep problematising things, to keep inventing and to keep reinventing, to keep on keeping on. And I thank you very much for giving me
the chance to be here and share it all. Thank you.
A quick postscript. After this ‘spontaneous report' was made,
the audience moved upstairs to watch a performance by the dancer
Frédéric Gies, who had co-hosted the morning's workshop. I found
the energy, the vulnerability, and the emotion with which he danced
quite overwhelming. The Madonna track - Hung Up (Time Goes by
so Slowly) – to which he danced ran through my head for the whole
train journey back to Birmingham, and when I got home and checked
out the Madonna video on YouTube I was even more moved to see
what a beautiful commentary and continuation of her choreography
Frédéric had achieved. This really was an example not only of playing
the body, the music, and the culture, but also of effecting the kind of
‘free play' and ‘open performance', which had resonated through the
whole weekend and inspired us all to keep our work and ourselves in
motion. So here's an extra thank you to Frédéric Gies. Madonna will
never sound the same to me.

286

286

286

287

287

Biographies
Valérie Laure Benabou
http://www.juriscom.net/minicv/vlb
EN

Valérie Laure Benabou is associate
Professor at the University of Versailles-Saint Quentin and teaches at
the Ecole des Mines. She is a member of the Centre d'Etude et de
Recherche en Droit de l'Immatériel
(CERDI), and of the Editorial Board
of Propriétés Intellectuelles. She also
teaches civil law at the University
of Barcelona and taught international
commercial law at the Law University
in Phnom Penh, Cambodia. She was a
member of the Commission de réflexion du Conseil d'Etat sur Internet et
les réseaux numériques, co-ordinated
by Ms Falque-Pierrotin, which produced the Rapport du Conseil d'Etat,
(La Documentation française, 1998).
She is the author of a number of works
and articles, including ‘La directive
droit d'auteur, droits voisins et société
de l'information: valse à trois temps
avec l'acquis communautaire', in Europe, No. 8-9, September 2001, p.
3, and in Communication Commerce
Electronique, October 2001, p. 8., and
‘Vie privée sur Internet: le traçage', in
Les libertés individuelles à l'épreuve
des NTIC, PUL, 2001, p. 89.

Pierre Berthet
http://pierre.berthet.be/
EN

Studied percussion with André Van

287

287

287

288

288

Belle and Georges-Elie Octors, improvisation with Garrett List, composition with Frederic Rzewski, and music theory with Henri Pousseur. Designs and builds sound objects and installations (composed of steel, plastic,
water, magnetic fields etc.). Presents
them in exhibitions and solo or duo
performances with Brigida Romano
(CD Continuum asorbus on the Sub
Rosa label) or Frédéric Le Junter (CD
Berthet Le Junter on the Vandœuvres
label). Collaborated with 13th tribe
(CD Ping pong anthropology). Played
percussion in Arnold Dreyblatt's Orchestra of excited strings (CD Animal magnetism, label Tzadik; CD The
sound of one string, label Table of the
elements).

avec Garrett List, la composition avec
Frederic Rzewski, et la théorie de
la musique avec Henri Pousseur. Il
conçoit et construit des objets et installations sonores (en acier, plastique, eau, champs magnétiques etc.),
et les a présentés lors d'expositions et
de performances en solo ou en duo
avec Brigida Romano (CD Continuum asorbus sur le label Sub Rosa)
or Frédéric Le Junter (CD Berthet Le
Junter sur le label Vandœuvres). A
collaboré avec 13th tribe (CD Ping
pong anthropology). A joué de la
percussion chez Orchestra of excited
strings d'Arnold Dreyblatt (CD Animal magnetism, label Tzadik; CD The
sound of one string, sur le label Table
of the elements).

NL

Alice Chauchat
Geluidskunstenaar.
Studeerde percussie met André Van Belle en Georges-Eliehttp://www.theselection.net/dance/
Octors, improvisatie met Garrett List,
EN
compositie met Frederic Rzewski, en
muziektheorie met Henri Pousseur.
Member of the Praticable collective.
Hij ontwerpt en bouwt sonore voorAlice Chauchat was born in 1977 in
werpen en installaties (in staal, plasSaint-Etienne (France) and lives in
tiek, water, magnetische velden etc.).
Paris. She studied at the ConservaDeze toont hij tijdens tentoonstellintoire National Supérieur de Lyon and
gen en performances, solo of samen
P.A.R.T.S in Brussels. She is a foundmet Brigida Romano (cd Continuum
ing member of the collective B.D.C.
asorbus bij het label Sub Rosa) en
With other members such as Tom PlisFrédéric Le Junter (cd Berthet Le
chke, Martin Nachbar and Hendrik
Junter bij het label Vandœuvres).
Laevens she created Events for TeleBerthet werkte samen met 13th tribe
vision, Affects and(Re)sort, between
(cd Ping pong anthropology). Hij ver1999 and 2001. In 2001 she presented
zorgde de percussie voor Arnold Dreyher first solo Quotation marks me.
blatts Orchestra of excited strings (cd
In 2003 she collaborated with Vera
Animal magnetism, label Tzadik; cd
Knolle (A Number of Classics in the
The sound of one string, bij het label
Age of Performance). In 2004 she
Table of the elements).
made J'aime, together with Anne JuFR

Plasticien sonore. A étudié la percussion avec André Van Belle et
Georges-Elie Octors, l'improvisation

ren, and CRYSTALLL, a collaboration with Alix Eynaudi. She also takes
part in other people's projects, such as
Projet, initiated by Xavier Le Roy, or

288

288

288

289

289

Michel Cleempoel
http://www.michelcleempoel.be/
EN

Graduated from the National Superior Art School La Cambre in Brussels.
Author of numerous digital art works
and exhibitions. Worked in collaboration with Nicolas Malevé:
http://www.deshabillez-vous.be

289

289

289

290

290

http://www.geuzen.org/

EN

EN

Femke Snelting, Renée Turner and
Riek Sijbring form the art and design
collective De Geuzen (a foundation for
multi-visual research). De Geuzen develop various strategies on and off line,
to explore their interests in the female
identity, critical resistance, representation and narrative archives.

Séverine Dusollier

Doctor in Law, Professor at the University of Namur (Belgium), Head of
the Department of Intellectual Property Rights at the Research Center for
Computer and Law of the University
of Namur, and Project Leader Creative Commons Belgium, Namur.
NL

EN

Leif Elggren (born 1950, Linköping,
Sweden) is a Swedish artist who lives
and works in Stockholm.
Active since the late 1970s, Leif
Elggren has become one of the most
constantly surprising conceptual artists
to work in the combined worlds of
audio and visual. A writer, visual
artist, stage performer and composer,
he has many albums to his credits, solo and with the Sons of God,
on labels such as Ash International,

http://www.fundp.ac.be/universite/personnes
/page_view/01003580/

290

290

290

291

291

Touch, Radium and his own firework Edition. His music, often conceived as the soundtrack to a visual
installation or experimental stage performance, usually presents carefully
selected sound sources over a long
stretch of time and can range from
mesmerising quiet electronics to harsh
noise. His wide-ranging and prolific
body of art often involves dreams and
subtle absurdities, social hierarchies
turned upside-down, hidden actions
and events taking on the quality of
icons.
Together with artist Carl Michael
von Hausswolff, he is a founder of
the Kingdoms of Elgaland-Vargaland
(KREV), where he enjoys the title of
King.

EN

elpueblodechina a.k.a.
Alejandra
Perez Nuñez is a sound artist and
performer working with open source

291

291

291

292

292

tools, electronic wiring and essay writing. In collaborative projects with
Barcelona based group Redactiva, she
works on psychogeography and social science fiction projects, developing narratives related to the mapping of collective imagination. She received an MA in Media Design at the
Piet Zwart Institute in 2005, and has
worked with the organization V2_ in
Rotterdam. She is currently based in
Valparaíso, Chile, where she is developing a practice related to appropriation, civil society and self-mediation
through electronic media.



EN

Born in Bari (Italy) in 1980, and graduated in May 2005 in Communication
Sciences at the University of Rome
La Sapienza, with a dissertation thesis on software as cultural and social
artefact. His educational background
is mostly theoretical: Humanities and
Media Studies. More recently, he has
been focussing on programming and
the development of web based applications, mostly using open source technologies. In 2007 he received an M.A.
in Media Design at the Piet Zwart Institute in Rotterdam.
His areas of interest are:
social
software, actor network theory, digital archives, knowledge management,
machine readability, semantic web,
data mining, information visualization, profiling, privacy, ubiquitous
computing, locative media.

292

292

293

293

ware, de compilatie van data en de
exploratie van numerieke archieven en
privacy. In 2007 behaalde hij een M.A.
in Media Design aan het Piet Zwart
Instituut in Rotterdam.

amazons (1st version in Tanzfabrik,
2nd in Ausland, Berlin) and The
bitch is back under pressure (reloaded) (Basso, Berlin). As a memeber of the Praticable collective, he
created Dance and The breast piece,
in collaboration with Alice Chauchat.
He also collaborated on Still Lives
(Good Work: Anderson/ Gies/ Pelmus/ Pocheron/ Schad).

EN
After studying ballet and contemfaut (CND, Parijs), Le principal déporary dance, Frédéric Gies worked
faut-solo (Tipi de Beaubourg, Parijs),
with various choreographers such as
En corps (CND, Parijs), Post porn
Daniel Larrieu, Bernard Glandier,
traffc (Macba, Barcelona), In bed
Jean-François Duroure, Olivia Grandville with Rebecca (Vooruit, Gent), (don't)
and Christophe Haleb. In 1995, he
Show it! (Scène nationale, Dieppe),
created a duet in collaboration with
Second hand vintage collector (someOdile Seitz (Because I love). In 1998
times we like to mix it up!) (Ausland,
he started working with Frédéric De
Berlijn).
Carlo. Together they have created
In 2004 danst hij in The better you
various performances such as Le prinlook, the more you see


293

293

293

294

294

Dominique Goblet
http://www.dominique-goblet.be/
EN

Visual artist. She shows her work in
galleries and publishes her stories in
magazines and books. In all cases,
what she tries to pursue is an art of
the multi-faceted narrative. Her exhibitions of paintings – from frame to
frame and in the whole space of the
gallery – could be ‘read' as fragmented
stories. Her comic books question the
deep or thin relations between human
beings. As an author, she has taken
part in almost all the Frigobox series
published by Fréon (Brussels) and to
several Lapin magazines, published by
L'Association (Paris). A silent comic
book was published in the gigantic
Comix 2000 (L'Association). In the
beginning of 2002, a second book is
published by the same editor: Souvenir d'une journée parfaite - Memories of a perfect day - a complex story
that combines autobiographical facts
and fictions.

Tsila Hassine
http://www.missdata.org/

EN

Tsila Hassine is a media artist / designer.
Her interests lie with the
hidden potentialities withheld in the
electronic data mines. In her practice she endeavours to extrude undercurrents of information and traces of
processes that are not easily discerned
through regular consumption of mass
networked media. This she accomplishes through repetitive misuse of
available platforms.
She completed a BScs in Mathematics and Computer Science and spent
2003 at the New Media department
of the HGK Zürich.
In 2004 she
joined the Piet Zwart Institute in Rotterdam, where she pursued an MA
in Media Design, until graduating in
June 2006 with Google randomizer
Shmoogle.
She is currently a researcher at the Design department of
the Jan van Eyck Academie.

Simon Hecquet
EN

Dancer and choreographer. Educated
in classical and contemporary dance,
Hecquet has worked with many different dance companies, specialised
in contemporary as well as baroque
dance.
During this time, he also
studied different notation systems to
describe movement, after which he
wrote scores for several dance pieces
from the contemporary choreographic
repertory. He also contributed, among
others, with the Quatuor Knust,
to projects that restaged important
dance pieces of the 20th century. Together with Sabine Prokhoris he made
a movie, Ceci n'est pas une danse
chorale (2004), and a book, Fabriques
de la Danse (PUF, 2007). He teaches

transcription systems for movement,
among others, at the department of
Dance at the Université de Paris VIII.


Guy Marc Hinant
EN

Guy Marc Hinant is a filmmaker of
films like The Garden is full of Metal
(1996), Éléments d'un Merzbau oublié (1999), The Pleasure of Regrets
– a Portrait of Léo Kupper (2003),
Luc Ferrari face to his Tautology
(2006) and I never promised you a
rose garden – a portrait of David
Toop through his records collection
(2008), all developed together with
Dominique Lohlé. He is the curator
of An Anthology of Noise and Electronic Music CD Series, and manages
the Sub Rosa label. He writes fragmented fictions and notes on aesthetics (some of his texts have been published by Editions de l'Heure, Luna
Park, Leonardo Music Journal etc.).

Dmytri Kleiner
http://www.telekommunisten.net/
EN

Dmytri Kleiner is a USSR-born, Canadian software developer and cultural
producer. In his work, he investigates the intersections of art, technology and political economy. He is a
founder of Telekommunisten, an anarchist technology collective, and lives
in Berlin with his wife Franziska and
his daughter Henriette.


Bettina Knaup
EN

Cultural producer and curator with a
background in theatre and film studies, political science and gender studies. She is interested in the interface
of live arts, politics and knowledge
production, and has curated and/or
produced transnational projects such
as the public arts and science program ‘open space' of the International Women's University (Hannover,
1998-2000), and the transdisciplinary
performing arts laboratory, IN TRANSIT (Berlin, House of World Cultures
2002-2003). Between 2001 and 2004,
she has co-curated and co-directed
the international festival of contemporary arts, CITY OF WOMEN (Ljubljana). After directing the new European platform for cultural exchange
LabforCulture during its launch phase
(Amsterdam, 2004-06), Knaup works
again as an independent curator with
a base in Berlin.


EN

Christophe Lazaro is a scientific collaborator at the Law department
of the Facultés Notre-Dame de la
Paix, Namur, and researcher at the
Research Centre for Computer and
Law. His interest in legal matters is
complemented by socio-anthropological research on virtual communities
(free software community), the human/artefact relationship (prothesis,
implants, RfiD chips), transhumanism and posthumanism.

Manu Luksch, founder of ambientTV.NET,
is a filmmaker who works outside the
frame. The ‘moving image', and in
particular the evolution of film in the
digital or networked age, has been
a core theme of her works. Characteristic is the blurring of boundaries between linear and hypertextual
narrative, directed work and multiple
authorship, and post-produced and
self-generative pieces. Expanding the
idea of the viewing environment is also
of importance; recent works have been
NL
shown on electronic billboards in pub



Nicolas Malevé

He has recently been working on sigSince 1998 multimedia artist Nicolas
nal processing, looking at how artists,
Malevé has been an active member of
activists, development projects, and
the organization of Constant. As such,
community groups are making alterhe has taken part in organizing varinate or competing communication inous activities connected with alternafrastructures.
tives to copyrights, such as ‘Copy.cult



Michael Murtaugh
http://automatist.org/

EN

Born in September 2001, represented
here by Valérie Cordy and Natalia
De Mello, the MéTAmorphoZ collective is a multidisciplinary association that create installations, spectacles and transdisciplinary performances that mix artistic experiments
and digital practices.

EN

Freelance developer of (tools for) online documentaries and other forms of
digital archives. He works and lives in
the Netherlands and online at automatist.org. He teaches at the MA Media
Design program at the Piet Zwart Institute in Rotterdam.

301

301

301

302

302

Julien Ottavi
http://www.noiser.org/

Ottavi is the founder, artistic programmer, audio computer researcher
(networks and audio research) and
sound artist of the experimental music
organization Apo33. Founded in 1997,
Apo33 is a collective of artists, musicians, sound artists, philosophers and
computer scientists, who aim to promote new types of music and sound
practices that do not receive large media coverage. The purpose of Apo33
is to create the conditions for the development of all of the kinds of music
and sound practices that contribute
to the advancement of sound creation,
including electronic music, concrete
music, contemporary written music,
sound poetry, sound art and other
practices which as yet have no name.
Apo33 refers to all of these practices
as ‘Audio Art'.

EN

Jussi Parikka teaches and writes on
the cultural theory and history of new
media. He has a PhD in Cultural
History from the University of Turku,
finland, and is Senior Lecturer in
Media Studies at Anglia Ruskin University, Cambridge, UK. Parikka has
published a book on ‘cultural theory
in the age of digital machines' (Koneoppi, in finnish) and his Digital
Contagions: A Media Archaeology of
Computer Viruses has been published
by Peter Lang, New York, Digital Formations-series (2007). Parikka is currently working on a book on ‘Insect
Media', which focuses on the media
theoretical and historical interconnections of biology and technology.


Sadie Plant

Sadie Plant is the author of The Most
Radical Gesture, Zeros and Ones,
and Writing on Drugs.
She has
taught in the Department of Cultural
Studies, University of Birmingham,
and the Department of Philosophy,
University of Warwick. For the last
ten years she has been working independently and living in Birmingham,
where she is involved with the Ikon
Gallery, Stan's Cafe Theatre Company, and the Birmingham Institute
of Art and Design.




EN

Praticable proposes itself as a horizontal work structure, which brings into
relation research, creation, transmission and production structure. This
structure is the basis for the creation
of many performances that will be
signed by one or more participants in
the project. These performances are
grounded, in one way or another, in
the exploration of body practices to
approach representation. Concretely,
the form of Praticable is periods of
common research of /on physical practices which will be the soil for the various creations. The creation periods
will be part of the research periods.
Thus, each specific project implies the
involvement of all participants in the
practice, the research and the elaboration of the practice from which the
piece will ensue.

304

304

304

305

305

Sabine Prokhoris

EN

EN

Psychoanalyst and author of, among
others, Witch's Kitchen:
Freud,
Faust, and the Transference (Cornell
University Press, 1995), and co-author
with Simon Hecquet of Fabriques de la
Danse (PUF, 2007). She is also active
in contemporary dance, as a critic and
a choreographer. In 2004 she made the
film Ceci n'est pas une danse chorale
together with Simon Hecquet.



After obtaining a master's degree in
Philosophy and Letters, Inès Rabadan
studied film at the IAD. Her short
films (Vacance, Surveiller les Tortues,
Maintenant, Si j'avais dix doigts,
Le jour du soleil), were shown at
about sixty festivals. Surveiller les
tortues and Maintenant were awarded
at the festivals of Clermont, Vendôme,
Chicago, Aix, Grenoble, Brest and
Namur. Occasionally she supervises
scenario workshops.
Her first feature film, Belhorizon, was selected
for the festivals of Montréal, Namur, Créteil, Buenos Aires, Santiago de Chile, Santo Domingo and
Mannheim-Heidelberg.
At the end
of 2006, it was released in Belgium,
France and Switzerland.

305

305

305

306

306
EN

Antoinette Rouvroy is researcher at
the Law department of the Facultés
Notre-Dame de la Paix in Namur,
and at the Research Centre for Computer and Law. Her domains of expertise range from rights and ethics
of biotechnologies, philosophy of Law
and ‘critical legal studies' to interdisciplinary questions related to privacy
and non-discrimination, science and
technology studies, law and language.
NL

Antoinette Rouvroy is onderzoekster
aan het departement Rechten van de
Facultés Notre-Dame de la Paix in Namen, en aan het Centre de Recherche
Informatique et Droit van de Universiteit van Namen. Zij is gespecialiseerd in het recht en de ethiek

Femke Snelting is a member of the
art and design collective De Geuzen
and of the experimental design agency
OSP.
NL


Michael Terry
http://www.ingimp.org/

Computer Scientist, University of Waterloo, Canada.

Carl Michael von Hausswolff

Von Hausswolff was born in 1956 in
Linkšping, Sweden.
He lives and
works in Stockholm. Since the end
of the 70s, von Hausswolff has been
working as a composer using the tape
recorder as his main instrument and
as a conceptual visual artist working with performance art, light- and
sound installations and photography.
His audio compositions from 1979 to
1992, constructed almost exclusively
from basic material taken from earlier audiovisual installations and performance works, essentially consist of
complex macromal drones with a surface of aesthetic elegance and beauty.
In later works, von Hausswolff retained the aesthetic elegance and the
drone, and added a purely isolationistic sonic condition to composing.


Marc Wathieu
http://www.erg.be/sdr/blog/

Marc Wathieu teaches at Erg (digital arts) and HEAJ (visual communication). He is a digital artist (he
works with the Brussels based collective LAB[au]) and sound designer.
He is also an offcial representative of
the Robots Trade Union with the human institutions. During V/J10 he
presented the Robots Trade Union's
Chart and ambitions.


Peter Westenberg

Brian Wyrick

FR

Peter Westenberg is an artist and film
and video maker, and member of Constant. His projects evolve from an
interest in social cartography, urban
anomalies and the relationships between locative identity and cultural

Brian Wyrick is an artist, filmmaker
and web developer working in Berlin
and Chicago. He is also co-founder
of Group 312 films, a Chicago-based
film group.


Simon Yuill
http://www.spring-alpha.org/
EN

Artist and programmer based in Glasgow, Scotland. He is a developer in
the spring_alpha and Social Versioning System (SVS) projects. He has
helped to set up and run a number
of hacklabs and free media labs in
Scotland including the Chateau Institute of Technology (ChIT) and Electron Club, as well as the Glasgow
branch of OpenLab. He has written
on aspects of Free Software and cultural praxis, and has contributed to
publications such as Software Studies
(MIT Press, 2008), the flOSS Manuals and Digital Artists Handbook project (GOTO10 and Folly).


License Register
??

65, 174

a
Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Work

181, 188

c
Copyright Presses Universitaires de France, 2007 188
Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 58, 71,
73, 81, 93, 98, 155, 215, 254, 275
Creative Commons Attribution - NonCommercial - ShareAlike license
104
d
Dmytri Kleiner & Brian Wyrick, 2007. Anti-Copyright. Use as desired in whole or in part. Independent or collective commercial use
encouraged. Attribution optional.
47
f
Free Art License 38, 70, 75, 131, 143, 217
Fully Restricted Copyright 95
g
GNUFDL 119

311

311

311

312

312

t
The text is under a GPL. The images are a little trickier as none of
them belong to me. The images from ap and David Griffths can
be GPL as well, the Scratch Orchestra images (the graphic music
scores) were always published ‘without copyright' so I guess are
public domain. The photograph of the Scratch Orchestra performance can be GPL or public domain and should be credited to
Stefan Szczelkun. The other images, Sun Ra, Black Arts Group
and Lester Bowie would need to mention ‘contact the photographers'. Sorry the images are complicated but they largely come
from a time before copyleft was widespread.
233

312

312

312

313

313

This publication was produced with a set of digital tools that are
rarely used outside the world of scientific publishing: TEX, LATEX and
ConTEXt. As early as the summer of 2008, when most contributions
and translations to Tracks in electronic fields were reaching their final
stage, we started discussing at OSP 1 how we could design and produce
a book in a way that responded to the theme of the festival itself. OSP
is a design collective working with Free Software, and our relation to
the software we design with, is particular on purpose. At the core
of our design practice is the ongoing investigation of the intimate
connection between form, content and technology. What follows, is a
report of an experiment that stretched out over a little more than a
year.
For the production of previous books, OSP used Scribus, an Open
Source Desktop Publishing tool which resembles its proprietary variants PageMaker, InDesign or QuarkXpress. In this type of software,
each single page is virtually present as a ‘canvas' that has the same
proportions as a physical page and each of these ‘pages' can be individually altered through adding or manipulating the virtual objects
on it. Templates or ‘master pages' allow the automatic placement
of repeated elements such as page numbers and text blocks, but like
in a paper-based design workflow, each single page can be treated as
an autonomous unit that can be moved, duplicated and when necessary removed. Scribus would have certainly been fit for this job,
though the rapidly developing project is currently in a stage that the
production of books with more than 40 pages can become tedious.
Users are advised to split up such documents into multiple sections
which means that in able to keep continuity between pages, design
decisions are best made beforehand. As a result, the design workflow
is rendered less flexible than you would expect from state-of-the-art

5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35

1

Open Source Publishing http://ospublish.constantvzw.org

36

323

323

323

324

324

creative software. In previous projects, Scribus' rigid workflow challenged us to relocate our creative energy to another territory: that
of computation. We experimented with its powerful Python scripting
API to create 500 unique books. In another project, we transformed
a text block over a sequence of pages with the help of a fairy-tale
script. But for Tracks in electronic fields we dreamed of something
else.
Pierre Huyghebaert takes on the responsibility for the design of
the book. He had been using various generations of lay-out software
since the early 90's, and gathered an extensive body of knowledge
about their potential and limitations. More than once he brought up
the desire to try out a legendary typesetting system called TEX a
sublime typographic engine that allegedly implemented the work of
grandmaster Jan Tshichold 2 with mathematical precision.
TEX is a computer language designed by Donald Knuth in the
1970's, specifically for typesetting mathematical and other scientific
material. Powerful algorithms automatize widow and orphan control and can handle intelligent image placement. It is renowned for
being extremely stable, for running on many different kinds of computers and for being virtually bug free. In the academic tradition
of free knowledge exchange, Knuth decided to make TEX available
‘for no monetary fee' and modifications of or experimentations with
the source code are encouraged. In typical self referential style, the
near perfection of its software design is expressed in a version number
which is converging to π 3.
For OSP, TEX represents the potential of doing design differently.
Through shifting our software habits, we try to change our way of
working too. But Scribus, like the kinds of proprietary softwares it is
modeled on, has a ‘productionalist' view of design built into it 4, which

1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30

2

In Die neue Typographie (1928), Jan Tschichold formulated the classic canon of modernist bookdesign.

3

The value of Π (3.141592653589793...) is the ratio of any circle's circumference to its
diameter and it's decimal representation never repeats. The current version number of
TEX is 3.141592

4

“A DTP program is the equivalent of a final assembly in an industrial process”
Christoph Schäfer, Gregory Pittman et al. The Offcial Scribus Manual.fles Books,
2009

31
32
33
34
35
36

324

324

324

325

325

is undeniably seeping through in the way we use it. An exotic Free
Software tool like TEX, rooted firmly in an academic context rather
than in commercial design, might help us to re-imagine the familiar
skill of putting type on a page. By making this kind of ‘domain
shift' 5 we hope to discover another experience of making, and find a
more constructive relation between software, content and form. So
when Pierre suggests that this V/J10 publication is possibly the right
occasion to try, we respond with enthusiasm.
By the end of 2008, Pierre starts carving out a path in the dense
forest of manuals, advice, tips-and-tricks with the help of Ivan Monroy Lopez. Ivan is trained as mathematician and more or less familiar with the exotic culture of TEX. They decide to use the popular
macro-package LATEX 6 to interface with TEX and find out about the
tong-in-cheek concept of ‘badness' (depending on the tension put on
hyphenated paragraphs, compiling a .tex document produces ‘badness' for each block on a scale from 0 to 10.000), and encounter a
long history of wonderful but often incoherent layers of development
that envelope the mysterious lasagna beauty of TEX's typographic
algorithms.
Laying-out a publication in LATEX is an entirely different experience than working with a canvas-based software. first of all, design decisions are executed through the application of markup which
vaguely reminds of working with CSS or HTML. The actual design is
only complete after ‘compiling' the document, and this is where TEX
magic happens. The software passes several times over a marked up
.tex file, incrementally deciding where to hyphenate a word, place a
paragraph or image. In principle, the concept of a page only applies
after compilation is complete. Design work therefore radically shifts
from the act of absolute placement to co-managing a flow. All elements remain relatively placed until the last tour has passed, and
while error messages, warnings and hyphenation decisions scroll by on
the command line, the sensation of elasticity is almost tangible. And

1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33

5

See: Richard Sennett. The Craftsman. Allen Lane (Penguin Press), 2008

6 L
ATEX

is a high-level markup language that was first developed by Leslie Lamport in
1985. Lamport is a computer scientist also known for his work on distributed systems
and multi-treading algorithms.

34
35
36

325

325

325

326

326

indeed, when within the acceptable ‘stretch' of the program placement of a paragraph is exceeded, words literally break out of the grid
(see page 34 example).
When I join Pierre to continue the work in January 2009, the
book is still far from finished. By now, we can produce those typical
academic-style documents with ease, but we still have not managed to
use our own fonts 7. flipping back and forth in the many manuals and
handbooks that exist, we enjoy discovering a new culture. Though
we occasionally cringe at the paternalist humour that seems to have
infected every corner of the TEX community and which is clearly
inspired by witticisms of the founding father, Donald Knuth himself,
we experience how the lightweight, flexible document structure of
TEX allows for a less hierarchical and non-linear workflow, making
it easier to collaborate on a project. It is an exhilarating experience
to produce a lay-out in dialogue with a tool and the design process
takes on an almost rhythmical quality, iterative and incremental. It
also starts to dawn on us, that souplesse comes with a price.
“Users only need to learn a few easy-to-understand commands that
specify the logical structure of a document” promises The Not So
Short Introduction to LATEX. “They almost never need to tinker with
the actual layout of the document”. It explains why using LATEX
stops being easy-to-understand once you attempt to expand its strict
model of ‘book', ‘article' or ‘thesis': the ‘users' that LATEX addresses
are not designers and editors like us. At this point, we doubt whether
to give up or push through, and decide to set ourselves a limit of a
week in which we should be able to to tick off a minimal amount of
items from a list of essential design elements. Custom page size and
headers, working with URL's... they each require a separate ‘package'
that may or may not be compatible with another one. At the end of
the week, just when we start to regain confidence in the usability of
LATEX for our purpose, our document breaks beyond repair when we
try to use custom paper size with custom headers at the same time.

1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33

7

“Installing fonts in LATEX has the name of being a very hard task to accomplish. But
it is nothing more than following instructions. However, the problem is that, first, the
proper instructions have to be found and, second, the instructions then have to be read
and understood”. http://www.ntg.nl/maps/29/13.pdf

34
35
36

326

326

326

327

327

In February, more than 6 months into the process, we briefly consider switching to OpenOffce instead (which we had never tried for
such a large publication) or go back to Scribus (which means for
Pierre, learning a new tool). Then we remember ConTEXt, a relatively young ‘macro package' that uses the TEX engine as well. “While
LATEX insulates the writer from typographical details, ConTEXt takes
a complementary approach by providing structured interfaces for handling typography, including extensive support for colors, backgrounds,
hyperlinks, presentations, figure-text integration, and conditional compilation” 8. This is what we have been looking for.
ConTEXt was developed in the 1990's by a Dutch company specialised in ‘Advanced Document Engineering'. They needed to produce complex educational materials and workplace manuals and came
up with their own interface to TEX. “The development was purely
driven by demand and configurability, and this meant that we could
optimize most workflows that involved text editing”. 9
However frustrating it is to re-learn yet another type of markup
(even if both are based on the same TEX language, most of the LATEX
commands do not work in ConTEXt and vice versa), many of the
things that we could only achieve by means of ‘hack' in LATEX, are
built in and readily available in ConTEXt. With the help of the
very active ConTEXt mailinglist we find a way to finally use our own
fonts and while plenty of questions, bugs and dark areas remain, it
feels we are close to producing the kind of multilingual, multi-format,
multi-layered publication we imagine Tracks in Electr(on)ic fields to
be.
However, Pierre and I are working on different versions of Ubuntu,
respectively on a Mac and on a PC and we soon discover that our
installations of ConTEXt produce different results. We can't find
a solution in the nerve-wrackingly incomplete, fragmented though
extensive documentation of ConTEXt and by June 2009, we still have
not managed to print the book. As time passes, we find it increasingly

1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33

8

Interview with Hans Hagen http://www.tug.org/interviews/interview-files/hans-hagen
.html

9

Interview with Hans Hagen http://www.tug.org/interviews/interview-files/hans-hagen
.html

34
35
36

327

327

327

328

328

difficult to allocate concentrated time for learning and it is a humbling
experience that acquiring some sort of fluency seems to pull us in all
directions. The stretched out nature of the process also feeds our
insecurity: Maybe we should have tried this package also? Have we
read that manual correctly? Have we read the right manual? Did we
understand those instructions really? If we were computer scientists
ourselves, would we know what to do? Paradoxically, the more we
invest into this process, mentally and physically, the harder it is to
let go. Are we refusing to see the limits of this tool, or even scarier,
our own limitations? Can we accept that the experience we'd hoped
for, is a lot more banal than the sublime results we secretly expected?
A fellow Constant member suggests in desperation: “You can't just
make a book, can you?”
In July, Pierre decides to pay for a consult with the developers
of ConTEXt themselves, and once and for all solve some of the issues we continue to struggle with. We drive up expectantly to the
headquarters of Pragma in Hasselt (NL) and discuss our problems,
seated in the recently redecorated rooms of a former bank building.
Hans Hagen himself reinstalls markIV (the latest in ConTEXt) on the
machine of Pierre, while his colleague Ton Otten tours me through
samples of the colorful publications produced by Pragma. In the afternoon, Hans gathers up some code examples that could help us place
thumbnail images and before we know it we are on our way South
again. Our visit confirms the impression we had from the awkwardly
written manuals and peculiar syntax, that ConTEXt is in essence a
one man mission. It is hard to imagine that a tool written to solve
particular problems of a certain document engineer, will ever grow
into the kind of tool that we desire too as well.
In August, as I type up this report, the book is more or less ready
to go to print. Although it looks ‘handsome' according to some, due
to unexpected bugs and time restraints, we have had to let go of
some of the features we hoped to implement. Looking at it now, just
before going to print, it has certainly not turned out to be the kind of
eye-opening typographic experience we dreamt of and sadly, we will
never know whether that is due to our own limited understanding
of TEX, LATEX and ConTEXt, to the inherent limits of those tools

1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36

328

328

328

329

329

themselves, or to the crude decision to finally force through a lay-out
in two weeks. Probably a mix of all of the above, it is first of all a
relief that the publication finally exists. Looking back at the process, I
am reminded of the wise words of Joseph Weizenbaum, who observed
that “Only rarely, if indeed ever, are a tool and an altogether original
job it is to do, invented together” 10.
While this book nearly crumbled under the weight of the projections it had to carry, I often thought that outside academic publishing, the power of TEX is much like a Fata Morgana. Mesmerizing
and always out of reach, TEX continues to represent a promise of an
alternative technological landscape that keeps our dream of changing
software habits alive.

1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14

Femke Snelting (OSP), August 2009

15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35

10

Joseph Weizenbaum. Computer power and human reason: from judgment to calculation.
MIT, 1976

36

329

329

329

330

330

330

330

330

331

331

Colophon
Tracks in electr(on)ic fields is a publication of Constant, Association for Art
and Media, Brussels.
Translations: Steven Tallon, Anne Smolar, Yves Poliart, Emma Sidgwick
Copy editing: Emma Sidgwick, Femke Snelting, Wendy Van Wynsberghe
English editing and translations: Sophie Burm
Design: Pierre Huyghebaert, Femke Snelting (OSP)
Photos, unless otherwise noted: Constant (Peter Westenberg). figure 5-9: Marc
Wathieu, figure 31-96: Constant (Christina Clar, video stills), figure 102-104:
Leiff Elgren, CM von Hausswolff, figure 107-116: Manu Luksch, figure A-Q:
elpueblodechina, figure 151 + 152: Pierre Huyghebaert, figure 155: Cornelius
Cardew, figure 160-162: Scratch Orchestra, figure 153 + 154: Michael E. Emrick
(Courtesy of Ben Looker), figure 156-157 + 159: photographer unknown, figure
158: David Griffths, pages 19, 25, 35, 77 and 139: public domain or unknown.
This book was produced in ConTEXt, based on the TEX typesetting engine, and
other Free Softwares (OpenOffce, Gimp, Inkscape). For a written account of
the production process see The Making Of on page 323.
Printing: Drukkerij Geers Offset, Gent

EN

FR

NL

Copyright © 2009, Constant.
Copyleft: this book is free. You can distribute and modify it according to the
terms of the Free Art Licence. You can find an example of this licence on the
site ‘Copyleft Attitude' http://www.artlibre.org
Copyleft : cette oeuvre est libre, vous pouvez la redistribuer et/ou la modifier selon les termes de la Licence Art Libre. Vous trouverez un exemplaire de
cette Licence sur le site Copyleft Attitude http://www.artlibre.org ainsi que sur
d'autres sites.
Copyleft: dit boek is een vrij werk. Je kunt het verspreiden en/of veranderen
volgens de termen van de Free Art Licence. Je vindt de tekst van deze licentie
onder andere op de site ‘Copyleft Attitude' http://www.artlibre.org
This book can be downloaded from: http://www.constantvzw.org/verlag. Sources
are available from http://osp.constantvzw.org/sources/vj10

331

331

331

332

332

figure 148 De Vlaamse Minister van Cultuur,
Jeugd, Sport en Brussel

figure 149 De Vlaamse Gemeenschapscommissie

332

332

332

Liang
Shadow Libraries
2012


Journal #37 - September 2012

# Shadow Libraries

Over the last few monsoons I lived with the dread that the rain would
eventually find its ways through my leaky terrace roof and destroy my books.
Last August my fears came true when I woke up in the middle of the night to
see my room flooded and water leaking from the roof and through the walls.
Much of the night was spent rescuing the books and shifting them to a dry
room. While timing and speed were essential to the task at hand they were also
the key hazards navigating a slippery floor with books perched till one’s
neck. At the end of the rescue mission, I sat alone, exhausted amongst a
mountain of books assessing the damage that had been done, but also having
found books I had forgotten or had not seen in years; books which I had
thought had been permanently borrowed by others or misplaced found their way
back as I set many aside in a kind of ritual of renewed commitment.

[ ](//images.e-flux-systems.com/2012_09_book-library-small-WEB.jpg,2000)

Sorting the badly damaged from the mildly wet, I could not help but think
about the fragile histories of books from the library of Alexandria to the
great Florence flood of 1966. It may have seemed presumptuous to move from the
precarity of one’s small library and collection to these larger events, but is
there any other way in which one experiences earth-shattering events if not
via a microcosmic filtering through one’s own experiences? I sent a distressed
email to a friend Sandeep a committed bibliophile and book collector with a
fantastic personal library, who had also been responsible for many of my new
acquisitions. He wrote back on August 17, and I quote an extract of the email:

> Dear Lawrence

>

> I hope your books are fine. I feel for you very deeply, since my nightmares
about the future all contain as a key image my books rotting away under a
steady drip of grey water. Where was this leak, in the old house or in the
new? I spent some time looking at the books themselves: many of them I greeted
like old friends. I see you have Lewis Hyde’s _Trickster Makes the World_ and
Edward Rice’s _Captain Sir Richard Francis Burton_ in the pile: both top-class
books. (Burton is a bit of an obsession with me. The man did and saw
everything there was to do and see, and thought about it all, and wrote it all
down in a massive pile of notes and manuscripts. He squirrelled a fraction of
his scholarship into the tremendous footnotes to the Thousand and One Nights,
but most of it he could not publish without scandalising the Victorians, and
then he died, and his widow made a bonfire in the backyard, and burnt
everything because she disapproved of these products of a lifetime’s labors,
and of a lifetime such as few have ever had, and no one can ever have again. I
almost hope there is a special hell for Isabel Burton to burn in.)

Moving from one’s personal pile to the burning of the work of one of the
greatest autodidacts of the nineteenth century and back it was strangely
comforting to be reminded that libraries—the greatest of time machines
invented—were testimonies to both the grandeur and the fragility of
civilizations. Whenever I enter huge libraries it is with a tingling sense of
excitement normally reserved for horror movies, but at the same time this same
sense of awe is often accompanied by an almost debilitating sense of what it
means to encounter finitude as it is dwarfed by centuries of words and
scholarship. Yet strangely when I think of libraries it is rarely the New York
public library that comes to mind even as I wish that we could have similar
institutions in India. I think instead of much smaller collections—sometimes
of institutions but often just those of friends and acquaintances. I enjoy
browsing through people’s bookshelves, not just to discern their reading
preferences or to discover for myself unknown treasures, but also to take
delight in the local logic of their library, their spatial preferences and to
understand the order of things not as a global knowledge project but as a
personal, often quirky rationale.

[ ](//images.e-flux-systems.com/2012_09_library-of-congress.jpg,2000 "Machine
room for book transportation at the Library of Congress, early 20th century.")

Machine room for book transportation at the Library of Congress, early 20th
century.

Like romantic love, bibliophilia is perhaps shaped by one’s first love. The
first library that I knew intimately was a little six by eight foot shop
hidden in a by-lane off one of the busiest roads in Bangalore, Commercial
street. From its name to what it contained, Mecca stores could well have been
transported out of an Arabian nights tale. One side of the store was lined
with plastic ware and kitchen utensils of every shape and size while the other
wall was piled with books, comics, and magazines. From my eight-year-old
perspective it seemed large enough to contain all the knowledge of the world.
I earned a weekly stipend packing noodles for an hour every day after school
in the home shop that my parents ran, which I used to either borrow or buy
second hand books from the store. I was usually done with them by Sunday and
would have them reread by Wednesday. The real anguish came in waiting from
Wednesday to Friday for the next set. After finally acquiring a small
collection of books and comics myself I decided—spurred on by a fatal
combination of entrepreneurial enthusiasm and a pedantic desire to educate
others—to start a small library myself. Packing my books into a small aluminum
case and armed with a makeshift ledger, I went from house to house convincing
children in the neighborhood to forgo twenty-five paisa in exchange for a book
or comic with an additional caveat that they were not to share them with any
of their friends. While the enterprise got off to a reasonable start it soon
met its end when I realized that despite my instructions, my friends were
generously sharing the comics after they were done with them, which thereby
ended my biblioempire ambitions.

Over the past few years the explosion of ebook readers and consequent rise in
the availability of pirated books have opened new worlds to my booklust.
[Library.nu](library.nu), which began as gigapedia, suddenly made the idea of
the universal library seem like reality. By the time it shut down in February
2012 the library had close to a million books and over half a million active
users. Bibliophiles across the world were distraught when the site was shut
down and if it were ever possible to experience what the burning of the
library of Alexandria must have felt it was that collective ache of seeing the
closure of [library.nu.](library.nu)

What brings together something as monumental as the New York public library, a
collective enterprise like [library.nu](library.nu) and Mecca stores if not
the word library? As spaces they may have little in common but as virtual
spaces they speak as equals even if the scale of their imagination may differ.
All of them partake of their share in the world of logotopias. In an
exhibition designed to celebrate the place of the library in art, architecture
and imagination the curator Sascha Hastings coined the term logotopia to
designate “word places”—a happy coincidence of architecture and language.

There is however a risk of flattening the differences between these spaces by
classifying them all under a single utopian ideal of the library. Imagination
after all has a geography and physiology and requires our alertness to these
distinctions. Lets think instead of an entire pantheon (both of spaces as well
as practices) that we can designate as shadow libraries (or shadow logotopias
if you like) which exist in the shadows cast by the long history of monumental
libraries. While they are often dwarfed by the idea of the library, like the
shadows cast by our bodies, sometimes these shadows surge ahead of the body.

[ ](//images.e-flux-systems.com/2012_09_london-blitz-WEB.jpg,2000 "The London
Library after the Blitz, c. 1940.")

The London Library after the Blitz, c. 1940.

At the heart of all libraries lies a myth—that of the burning of the library
of Alexandria. No one knows what the library of Alexandria looked like or
possesses an accurate list of its contents. What we have long known though is
a sense of loss. But a loss of what? Of all the forms of knowledge in the
world in a particular time. Because that was precisely what the library of
Alexandria sought to collect under its roofs. It is believed that in order to
succeed in assembling a universal library, King Ptolemy I wrote “to all the
sovereigns and governors on earth” begging them to send to him every kind of
book by every kind of author, “poets and prose-writers, rhetoricians and
sophists, doctors and soothsayers, historians, and all others too.” The king’s
scholars had calculated that five hundred thousand scrolls would be required
if they were to collect in Alexandria “all the books of all the peoples of the
world.”1

What was special about the Library of Alexandria was the fact that until then
the libraries of the ancient world were either private collections of an
individual or government storehouses where legal and literary documents were
kept for official reference. By imagining a space where the public could have
access to all the knowledge of the world, the library also expressed a new
idea of the human itself. While the library of Alexandria is rightfully
celebrated, what is often forgotten in the mourning of its demise is another
library—one that existed in the shadows of the grand library but whose
whereabouts ensured that it survived Caesar’s papyrus destroying flames.

According to the Sicilian historian Diodorus Siculus, writing in the first
century BC, Alexandria boasted a second library, the so-called daughter
library, intended for the use of scholars not affiliated with the Museion. It
was situated in the south-western neighborhood of Alexandria, close to the
temple of Serapis, and was stocked with duplicate copies of the Museion
library’s holdings. This shadow library survived the fire that destroyed the
primary library of Alexandria but has since been eclipsed by the latter’s
myth.

Alberto Manguel says that if the library of Alexandria stood tall as an
expression of universal ambitions, there is another structure that haunts our
imagination: the tower of Babel. If the library attempted to conquer time, the
tower sought to vanquish space. He says “The Tower of Babel in space and the
Library of Alexandria in time are the twin symbols of these ambitions. In
their shadow, my small library is a reminder of both impossible yearnings—the
desire to contain all the tongues of Babel and the longing to possess all the
volumes of Alexandria.”2 Writing about the two failed projects Manguel adds
that when seen within the limiting frame of the real, the one exists only as
nebulous reality and the other as an unsuccessful if ambitious real estate
enterprise. But seen as myths, and in the imagination at night, the solidity
of both buildings for him is unimpeachable.3

The utopian ideal of the universal library was more than a question of built
up form or space or even the possibility of storing all of the knowledge of
the world; its real aspiration was in the illusion of order that it could
impose on a chaotic world where the lines drawn by a fine hairbrush
distinguished the world of animals from men, fairies from ghosts, science from
magic, and Europe from Japan. In some cases even after the physical structure
that housed the books had crumbled and the books had been reduced to dust the
ideal remained in the form of the order imagined for the library. One such
residual evidence comes to us by way of the _Pandectae_ —a comprehensive
bibliography created by Conrad Gesner in 1545 when he feared that the Ottoman
conquerors would destroy all the books in Europe. He created a bibliography
from which the library could be built again—an all embracing index which
contained a systematic organization of twenty principal groups with a matrix
like structure that contained 30,000 concepts.4

It is not surprising that Alberto Manguel would attempt write a literary,
historical and personal history of the library. As a seventeen-year-old man in
Buenos Aries, Manguel read for the blind seer Jorge Luis Borges who once
imagined in his appropriately named story—The Tower of Babel—paradise as a
kind of library. Modifying his mentor’s statement in what can be understood as
a gesture to the inevitable demands of the real and yet acknowledging the
possible pleasures of living in shadows, Manguel asserts that sometimes
paradise must adapt itself to suit circumstantial requirements. Similarly
Jacques Rancière writing about the libraries of the working class in the
eighteenth century tells us about Gauny a joiner and a boy in love with
vagrancy and botany who decides to build a library for himself. For the sons
of the poor proletarians living in Saint Marcel district, libraries were built
only a page at a time. He learnt to read by tracing the pages on which his
mother bought her lentils and would be disappointed whenever he came to the
end of a page and the next page was not available, even though he urged his
mother to buy her lentils from the same grocer. 5

[ ](//images.e-flux-systems.com/2012_09_DGF-D-Tropics-detail-hi-res-
WEB.jpg,2000 "Dominique Gonzalez-Foerster, Chronotopes & Dioramas , 2009.
Diorama installation at The Hispanic Society of America, New York.")

Dominique Gonzalez-Foerster, _Chronotopes & Dioramas_, 2009. Diorama
installation at The Hispanic Society of America, New York.

Is the utopian ideal of the universal library as exemplified by the library of
Alexandria or modernist pedagogic institutions of the twentieth century
adequate to the task of describing the space of the shadow library, or do we
need a different account of these other spaces? In an era of the ebook reader
where the line between a book and a library is blurred, the very idea of a
library is up for grabs. It has taken me well over two decades to build a
collection of a few thousand books while around two hundred thousand books
exist as bits and bytes on my computer. Admittedly hard drives crash and data
is lost, but is that the same threat as those of rain or fire? Which then is
my library and which its shadow? Or in the spirit of logotopias would it be
more appropriate to ask the spatial question: where is the library?

If the possibility of having 200,000 books on one’s computer feels staggering
here is an even more startling statistic. The Library of Congress which is the
largest library in the world with holdings of approximately thirty million
books, which would—if they were piled on the floor—cover 364 kilometers could
potentially fit into an SD card. It is estimated that by 2030 an ordinary SD
card will have the capacity of storing up to 64 TB and assuming each book were
digitized at an average size of 1MB it would technically be possible to fit
two Libraries of Congress in one’s pocket.

It sounds like science fiction, but isn’t it the case that much of the science
fiction of a decade ago finds itself comfortably within the weaves of everyday
life. How do we make sense of the future of the library? While it may be
tempting to throw our hands up in boggled perplexity about what it means to be
able to have thirty million books lets face it: the point of libraries have
never been that you will finish what’s there. Anyone with even a modest book
collection will testify to the impossibility of ever finishing their library
and if anything at all the library stands precisely at the cusp of our
finitude and our infinity. Perhaps that is what Borges—the consummate mixer of
time and space—meant when he described paradise as a library, not as a spatial
idea but a temporal one: that it was only within the confines of infinity that
one imagine finishing reading one’s library. It would therefore be more
interesting to think of the shadow library as a way of thinking about what it
means to dwell in knowledge. While all our aspirations for a habitat should
have a utopian element to them, lets face it, utopias have always been
difficult spaces to live in.

In contrast to the idea of utopia is heterotopia—a term with its origins in
medicine (referring to an organ of the body that had been dislodged from its
usual space) and popularized by Michel Foucault both in terms of language as
well as a spatial metaphor. If utopia exists as a nowhere or imaginary space
with no connection to any existing social spaces, then heterotopias in
contrast are realities that exist and are even foundational, but in which all
other spaces are potentially inverted and contested. A mirror for instance is
simultaneously a utopia (placeless place) even as it exists in reality. But
from the standpoint of the mirror you discover your absence as well. Foucault
remarks, “The mirror functions as a heterotopia in this respect: it makes this
place that I occupy at the moment when I look at myself in the glass at once
absolutely real, connected with all the space that surrounds it, and
absolutely unreal, since in order to be perceived it has to pass through this
virtual point which is over there.”6

In _The Order of Things_ Foucault sought to investigate the conceptual space
which makes the order of knowledge possible; in his famed reading of Borges’s
Chinese encyclopedia he argues that the impossibility involved in the
encyclopedia consists less in the fantastical status of the animals and their
coexistence with real animals such as (d) sucking pigs and (e) sirens, but in
where they coexist and what “transgresses the boundaries of all imagination,
of all possible thought, is simply that alphabetical series (a, b, c, d) which
links each of those categories to all the others.” 7 Heterotopias destabilize
the ground from which we build order and in doing so reframe the very
epistemic basis of how we know.

Foucault later developed a greater spatial understanding of heterotopias in
which he uses specific examples such as the cemetery (at once the space of the
familiar since everyone has someone in the cemetery and at the heart of the
city but also over a period of time the other city, where each family
possesses its dark resting place).8 Indeed, the paradox of heterotopias is
that they are both separate from yet connected to all other spaces. This
connectedness is precisely what builds contestation into heterotopias.
Imaginary spaces such as utopias exist completely outside of order.
Heteretopias by virtue of their connectedness become sites in which epistemes
collide and overlap. They bring together heterogeneous collections of unusual
things without allowing them a unity or order established through resemblance.
Instead, their ordering is derived from a process of similitude that produces,
in an almost magical, uncertain space, monstrous combinations that unsettle
the flow of discourse.

If the utopian ideal of the library was to bring together everything that we
know of the world then the length of its bookshelves was coterminous with the
breadth of the world. But like its predecessors in Alexandria and Babel the
project is destined to be incomplete haunted by what it necessarily leaves out
and misses. The library as heterotopia reveals itself only through the
interstices and lays bare the fiction of any possibility of a coherent ground
on which a knowledge project can be built. Finally there is the question of
where we stand once the grounds that we stand on itself has been dislodged.
The answer from my first foray into the tiny six by eight foot Mecca store to
the innumerable hours spent on [ library.nu]( library.nu) remains the same:
the heterotopic pleasure of our finite selves in infinity.

×

This essay is a part of a work I am doing for an exhibition curated by Raqs
Media Collective, Sarai Reader 09. The show began on August 19, 2012, with a
deceptively empty space containing only the proposal, with ideas for the
artworks to come over a period of nine months. See
.

**Lawrence Liang** is a researcher and writer based at the Alternative Law
Forum, Bangalore. His work lies at the intersection of law and cultural
politics, and has in recent years been looking at question of media piracy. He
is currently finish a book on law and justice in Hindi cinema.

© 2012 e-flux and the author

[ ![](//images.e-flux-systems.com/Banner-Eflux-760x1350px-Learoyd-ing-
ok.gif,300) ](/ads/redirect/271922)

Journal # 37

Related

Conversations

Notes

Share

[Download PDF](http://worker01.e-flux.com/pdf/article_8957468.pdf)

More

Julieta Aranda, Brian Kuan Wood, and Anton Vidokle

## [Editorial](/journal/37/61227/editorial/)

![](data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7)

It is hard to avoid the feeling these days that the future is behind us. It’s
not so much that time has stopped, but rather that the sense of promise and
purpose that once drove historical progress has become impossible to sustain.
On the one hand, the faith in modernist, nationalist, or universalist utopias
continues to retreat, while on the other, a more immediate crisis of faith has
accompanied the widespread sense of diminishing economic prospects felt in so
many places. Not to mention...

## [Shadow Libraries](/journal/37/61228/shadow-libraries/)

![](data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7)

Over the last few monsoons I lived with the dread that the rain would
eventually find its ways through my leaky terrace roof and destroy my books.
Last August my fears came true when I woke up in the middle of the night to
see my room flooded and water leaking from the roof and through the walls.
Much of the night was spent rescuing the books and shifting them to a dry
room. While timing and speed were essential to the task at hand they were also
the key hazards navigating a slippery floor...

Metahaven

## [Captives of the Cloud: Part I](/journal/37/61232/captives-of-the-cloud-
part-i/)

![](data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7)

We are the voluntary prisoners of the cloud; we are being watched over by
governments we did not elect. Wael Ghonim, Google's Egyptian executive, said:
“If you want to liberate a society just give them the internet.” 1 But how
does one liberate a society that already has the internet? In a society
permanently connected through pervasive broadband networks, the shared
internet is, bit by bit and piece by piece, overshadowed by the “cloud.” The
Coming of the Cloud The cloud,...

Amelia Groom

## [There’s Nothing to See Here: Erasing the
Monochrome](/journal/37/61233/there-s-nothing-to-see-here-erasing-the-
monochrome/)

![](data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7)

There was once a typist from Texas named Bette Nesmith Graham, who wasn’t very
good at her job. In 1951 she started erasing her typing mistakes with a white
tempera paint solution she mixed in her kitchen blender. She called her
invention Mistake Out and began distributing small green bottles of it to her
coworkers. In 1956 she founded the delectably named Mistake Out Company.
Shortly after, she was apparently fired from her typist job because she made a
“mistake” that she failed to cover...

Nato Thompson

## [The Last Pictures: Interview with Trevor Paglen](/journal/37/61238/the-
last-pictures-interview-with-trevor-paglen/)

![](data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7)

In 1963 NASA launched the first communications satellite, Syncom 2, into a
geosynchronous orbit over the Atlantic Ocean. Since then, humans have slowly
and methodically added to this space-based communications infrastructure.
Currently, more than 800 spacecraft in geosynchronous orbit form a man-made
ring of satellites around Earth at an altitude of 36,000 kilometers. Most of
these spacecraft powered down long ago, yet continue to float aimlessly around
the planet. Geostationary satellites...

Claire Tancons

## [Carnival to Commons: Pussy Riot, Punk Protest, and the Exercise of
Democratic Culture](/journal/37/61239/carnival-to-commons-pussy-riot-punk-
protest-and-the-exercise-of-democratic-culture/)

![](data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7)

Once again, the press has dismissed a popular movement as carnival—this time
not Occupy Wall Street, but the anti-Putin protests. On March 1, 2012, in a
Financial Times article titled “Carnival spirit is not enough to change
Russia,” Konstantin von Eggert wrote, “One cannot sustain [the movement] on
carnival spirit alone.” 1 A little over a week later, Reuters sought to close
the debate with an article by Alissa de Carbonnel, in which she announced,
“The carnival is over for Russia’s...

Anton Vidokle and Brian Kuan Wood

## [Breaking the Contract](/journal/37/61241/breaking-the-contract/)

![](data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7)

1\. The Contract The Duchampian revolution leads not to the liberation of the
artist from work, but to his or her proletarization via alienated construction
and transportation work. In fact, contemporary art institutions no longer need
an artist as a traditional producer. Rather, today the artist is more often
hired for a certain period of time as a worker to realize this or that
institutional project. — Boris Groys 1 When his readymades entered the space
of art, Duchamp...

Shadow Libraries

There is nothing related.

Conversations - Shadow Libraries

Conversations

[Join the Conversation](http://conversations.e-flux.com/t/5546)

e-flux conversations is a discussion platform for e-flux readers. Click to
start a discussion of the article above.

Start the Conversation

Notes - Shadow Libraries

1

Esther Shipman and Sascha Hastings eds., _Logotopia: The Library in
Architecture Art and the Imagination,_ (Cambridge Galleries: Abc Art Books
Canada, 2008).

Go to Text

2

Alberto Manguel, “My Library” in Hastings and Shipman eds. _Logotopia, The
Library in Art and Architecture and the Imagination, (Cambridge Galleries: ABC
Art Books Canada, 2008)._

Go to Text

3

Alberto Manguel, _The Library at Night_ , (Yale University Press 2009).

Go to Text

4

Ray Hastings and Esther Shipman, eds. _Logotopia: The Library in Architecture
Art and the Imagination_. Cambridge Galleries / ABC Art Books Canada, 2008.

Go to Text

5

Jacques Rancière, _The Nights of Labour: The Workers’ Dream in Nineteenth
Century France,_ (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1991).

Go to Text

6

Michel Foucault, “Different Spaces,” in _Aesthetics, Method, Epistemology_ ,
ed. James D. Faubion (New York: The New Press, 1998), 179; For Foucault on
language and heterotopias see _The Order of Things: An Archaeology of the
Human Sciences,_ (New York: Pantheon, 1970).

Go to Text

7

Ibid, xv.

Go to Text

8

In Foucault, “Different Spaces,” which was presented as a lecture to the
_Architecture Studies Circle_ in 1967, a few years after the writing of _The
Order of Things_.

Go to Text

Esther Shipman and Sascha Hastings eds., _Logotopia: The Library in
Architecture Art and the Imagination,_ (Cambridge Galleries: Abc Art Books
Canada, 2008).

Alberto Manguel, “My Library” in Hastings and Shipman eds. _Logotopia, The
Library in Art and Architecture and the Imagination, (Cambridge Galleries: ABC
Art Books Canada, 2008)._

Alberto Manguel, _The Library at Night_ , (Yale University Press 2009).

Ray Hastings and Esther Shipman, eds. _Logotopia: The Library in Architecture
Art and the Imagination_. Cambridge Galleries / ABC Art Books Canada, 2008.

Jacques Rancière, _The Nights of Labour: The Workers’ Dream in Nineteenth
Century France,_ (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1991).

Michel Foucault, “Different Spaces,” in _Aesthetics, Method, Epistemology_ ,
ed. James D. Faubion (New York: The New Press, 1998), 179; For Foucault on
language and heterotopias see _The Order of Things: An Archaeology of the
Human Sciences,_ (New York: Pantheon, 1970).

Ibid, xv.

In Foucault, “Different Spaces,” which was presented as a lecture to the
_Architecture Studies Circle_ in 1967, a few years after the writing of _The
Order of Things_.


 

Display 200 300 400 500 600 700 800 900 1000 ALL characters around the word.