This article investigates the role of the corridor in Gothic fiction and horror
film from the late eighteenth century to the present day. It seeks to establish
this transitional space as a crucial locus, by tracing the rise of the corridor
as a distinct mode of architectural distribution in domestic and public
buildings since the eighteenth century. The article tracks pivotal appearances
of the corridor in fiction and film, and in the final phase argues that it has
become associated with a specific emotional tenor, less to do with amplified
fear and horror and more with emotions of Angst or dread.
However, it is important to keep in mind that architecture is
not merely a distinct form of discourse, although debates about
space are often conducted in the arenas of architectural theory
and architectural presentations. Architecture engages the polemics over the common as a practice of shaping space, as a practice
that problematizes and explores spatialform. And here we must
at least sketch the potentialities inherent in this practice that may
indeed support struggles over the definition of the common, and
9/11 as architectural catastrophe and the hypermodernity of Terror
by such peculiar spatialforms. To recognise the ways in which the 9/11
attack resonated with Virilio’s architectural critique and his attempt to wage war
on such forms means that the attack itself can no longer adequately be understood as an attack that came from the ‘outside’ of liberal regimes and societies.
Examining Virilio’s work is to recognise a long and substantial tradition of
opposition to these architectural forms within the domain of liberal societies
themselves, a loathing and political hatred for everything such buildings
symbolised and the ways they
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.
At the heart of this chapter is a reading of Merlin’s glass – a perspectival object that crystallises new perspectives on the speculative poetics of the early modern geographical imagination. The chapter thinks about how to gauge the changing scales of Britomart’s journey by reading her quest alongside the spatial arts of cosmography and chorography, and looks back to the earlier readings of Cuningham’s Cosmographical Glasse and Waghenaer’s Mariners Mirrour. In seeking out the maker of her vision, Spenser’s lady-knight makes the transition from speculative armchair traveller to practical wayfarer, thus drawing together multiple modes of spatial representation in Spenser’s poem. In its discussion of spatial rhetoric, this chapter acts as a bridge between the initial focus of the book on archetypes, expectations, and genres, and the emerging focus of the second half of the study in shifting, but specific, types of environments. In particular, the movement towards Merlin’s cave at Maridunum introduces a coastal setting that both anchors and destabilises Spenser’s fiction-making and offers a vital example of Spenser’s increasingly fraught handling of the relationship between spatial forms and desire.
There is no soundtrack is a specific yet expansive study of sound tactics deployed in experimental media art today. It analyses how audio and visual elements interact and produce meaning, drawing from works by contemporary media artists ranging from Chantal Akerman, to Nam June Paik, to Tanya Tagaq. It then links these analyses to discussions on silence, voice, noise, listening, the soundscape, and other key ideas in sound studies. In making these connections, the book argues that experimental media art – avant-garde film, video art, performance, installation, and hybrid forms – produces radical and new audio-visual relationships that challenge and destabilize the visually-dominated fields of art history, contemporary art criticism, cinema and media studies, and cultural studies as well as the larger area of the human sciences. This book directly addresses what sound studies scholar Jonathan Sterne calls ‘visual hegemony’. It joins a growing body of interdisciplinary scholarship that is collectively sonifying the study of culture while defying the lack of diversity within the field by focusing on practitioners from transnational and diverse backgrounds. Therefore, the media artists discussed in this book are of interest to scholars and students who are exploring aurality in related disciplines including gender and feminist studies, queer studies, ethnic studies, postcolonial studies, urban studies, environmental analysis, and architecture. As such, There Is No Soundtrack makes meaningful connections between previously disconnected bodies of scholarship to build new, more complex and reverberating frameworks for the study of art, media, and sound.
ways of responding to the actions of
others. Experience, thus, is shaped in action and is expressed
as action. Exchanges employ a whole array of means in which
experiences are shared by being expressed and actually unfold by
being expressed. In the context of human society, experience is
socialized and socialization develops in time and “takes place” in
space through shared experiences.
It seems that one of the most important ways in which the
sharing of experiences happens is based on space considered as a
form. Referring to spatialforms, people may convey
understanding. The art of mapping, as both scopic tool and literary metaphor, is a provisional and performative labour: a work of ‘making’ that occludes as much as it purports to discover.
The language of space is often self-reflexive and those wielding it frequently resort to a spatialform of reference that folds back on itself. In the work of several of the authors discussed in the preceding chapters, thought is figured as motion, particularly when matters are elusive and difficult to define. Although this study has focused on Edmund Spenser
theories of spatial practice helpful. The rediscovery of a spatial imagination attends to the narrative and the structural imagination of space –
attends, that is, to the conceptual invocation of the subject within a
range of spatial contexts, but also (and more challengingly) to the organisation of discrete texts, genres and practices in terms of what we might
call ‘spatial poetics’ or ‘spatialform’. Analysis which articulates politics
with poetics is capable of engaging with the wide variety of ways in
which cultural phenomena have been and continue to be
When I go around the tunnel, I do not see it.
For me, it is only time, enveloped in spatialforms.24
This “time enveloped in spatialforms” was not a materialization of
industrial rationality but, in many ways, the materialization of a world
built by a drunken builder.The moving trains and magic escalators were
enveloped in a mosaic of sculpture, wall tiles, shimmering lights, and
ornament inspired by agricultural flora, disorienting as well as dazzling
the passenger. The Metro was a phantasmagoria, a world that demonstrates the power of infinite