cinema commission awarded to Blast Theory from three cultural institutions across the United States and Canada: ZERO1: The Art and Technology Network (San Jose, United States), the Banff New Media Institute at the Banff Centre (Banff, Canada) and the Sundance Institute’s New Frontier Initiative (Park City, United States). The commission organised an international competition with an open call for submissions in 2009, which aimed to ‘[bring] attention to narratives of place and space and [seek] new forms of description and experience’ (ZERO1 San Jose Biennial, 2010
Manchester: Something rich and strange challenges us to see the quintessential
post-industrial city in new ways. Bringing together twenty-three diverse writers
and a wide range of photographs of Greater Manchester, it argues that how we see
the city can have a powerful effect on its future – an urgent question given how
quickly the urban core is being transformed. The book uses sixty different words
to speak about the diversity of what we think of as Manchester – whether the
chimneys of its old mills, the cobbles mostly hidden under the tarmac, the
passages between terraces, or the everyday act of washing clothes in a
laundrette. Unashamedly down to earth in its focus, this book makes the case for
a renewed imaginative relationship that recognises and champions the fact that
we’re all active in the making and unmaking of urban spaces.
This book explores contemporary urban experiences connected to practices of sharing and collaboration. Part of a growing discussion on the cultural meaning and the politics of urban commons, it uses examples from Europe and Latin America to support the view that a world of mutual support and urban solidarity is emerging today in, against, and beyond existing societies of inequality. In such a world, people experience the potentialities of emancipation activated by concrete forms of space commoning. By focusing on concrete collective experiences of urban space appropriation and participatory design experiments this book traces differing, but potentially compatible, trajectories through which common space (or space-as-commons) becomes an important factor in social change. In the everydayness of self-organized neighborhoods, in the struggles for justice in occupied public spaces, in the emergence of “territories in resistance,” and in dissident artistic practices of collaborative creation, collective inventiveness produces fragments of an emancipated society.
map-making and film-making are identical forms;
indeed, they contain as many differences as they do similarities. There is a sense,
however, that these two methods of capturing a sense of place do in fact have
significant crossover, despite the relatively little amount of critical attention they
have received as similar practices. The way in which maps and films are created,
as well as how they relate to one another, has garnered some interest among film
scholars. In Cartographic Cinema, one of the few books examining the relationship
between films and maps, Tom
, is now
subject to a new promise of urban regeneration. Plans are afoot,
but these premises will not be entered by myself tonight. Instead,
I walk around the back of Piccadilly Station, moving swiftly across
Great Ancoats Street with its industrial estates and cheek-by-jowl
apartment blocks. The dark mirror of New Islington Canal Basin
lies before me, its surface gently rippled by the resident geese. A
perfect place to pause and reflect on the mobile urban cinema
I have experienced in the last couple of hours, with its dramatic
choreography and nuanced expressions
coming around the corner twirling a scaffolding pole, left, as, right
and at the same time, a distraught, blonde-wigged woman in a
27 (Opposite) Bus stop on Great Ancoats Street
Manchester: Something rich and strange
pink cocktail dress stumbles, clutching a pair of Cinderella ballroom shoes.
Pity the rich, I suddenly find myself thinking. Those who can
afford taxis might never experience this cinema of the street. We
are social animals, and to be social in these circumstances, in these
extremes of night of exhaustion of temperature is to be in the rare
with south and east
London – was pioneered in Manchester.
As early as the late 1980s, cultural and entertainment spaces
were opening in Manchester’s railway arches. In 1985, the
Cornerhouse cinema built one of its screens in an arch beneath
Oxford Road station; and in 1987, an avant-garde theatre, the
Green Room, opened next door on Whitworth Street West.
Both of these establishments had built upon the momentum of
the Haçienda nightclub further down the road, itself facing onto
the railway viaduct which had defined the ragged edge of the city
centre for well over a
Heterogeneous temporalities, algorithmic frames and subjective time in
maps, and one of the first regularly televised animated maps were weather maps (Cartwright, 2007: 14). But even before that,
animation was widely used in so called cinematic maps and can be traced back to
the first docudramas of the 1910s (Caquard, 2009).
But strictly speaking, it is wrong to call the animated maps used in films
cinematic, because, as Deleuze points out, ‘[a]ny other system which reproduces movement through an order of exposures [poses] projected in such a way
that they pass into one another, or are “transformed”, is foreign to the cinema’
. According to Bordwell ( 1993 : 121), it was Kuleshov who gave montage particular significance in Soviet cinema by conducting informal experiments to show that ‘editing could create emotions and ideas not present in either of the single shots’. The technique of montage, despite its precise editing technique (where the two unrelated shots have a clear beginning and end), demonstrates its potential as a machinic assemblage that is open to interpretation.
Deleuze emphasises the indeterminacy of the effect of montage – despite it constituting a whole – and the importance of
Border images and narratives: paradoxes, spheres, aesthetics
Johan Schimanski and Jopi Nyman
afford or hinder the partage du sensible in different ways? To take for example the two main aesthetic strategies focused on in this volume – image and narrative – is one ‘better suited’ to crossing the border from private border experience into the public sphere than the other?
Our volume addresses a wide variety of media (text, cinema, video, television, architecture, painting, drawing, performance, ritual, park, landscape, installation, monument, sign, dress, data cloud, drone surveillance, photography, dream, mirror), modes (realism, the