Post-connoisseurial dystopia and the profusion of things
What not to collect?
and the profusion of things
Sharon Macdonald and Jennie Morgan
Imagine a museum storeroom lined with shelves and racks. These are
filled with boxes and objects, labelled by number and name. On one shelf
sit a dozen or so radios, mainly from the 1950s, hefty things with dials
and wood veneer. On another are six seemingly identical stoneware bedwarmers from the early twentieth century. A tall shelving unit is packed
with ceramics – teacups, bowls, jugs, plates – and other, unidentifiable
things. A bedframe leans
provides a general view of the game as it was from a local perspective. The profusion of sides in the east Manchester area aided the establishment
of viable fixture lists for multiple clubs, but the exact conditions of competition
were not well defined. A typical example was the 3 January 1885 meeting
between Levenshulme and West Gorton. The away team, West Gorton, was
recorded as winning the match but the game was never actually finished, as
Levenshulme disputed the only goal and walked off the field, refusing to accept
either the goal or the result.71 Situations such
‘appropriate’ ends. Clerics and clerical bodies
asserted their own agenda over secular authorities. Moreover,
the profusion of relics in towns and villages by the fifteenth
century, and the vast number of smaller religious groupings of
parishes and guilds 8 – of which the accounts of Charles the
Bold’s almoner offer only a glimpse – suggests lay
more so when Scottie ‘believes’ it), turning improbability (in a word, the
fiction) into the only truth.
The world of Hitchcock’s films is littered with a profusion of signs
(which indicate something, but are usually false, deceptive, misleading, confusing – what do they indicate? – that is, they are illusions,
McGuffins, pretexts and a lure because everything is at once realistic and
feigned, which is at the heart of the cinema, the very nature of film) and
these signs confront the character who looks at them and the audience
who sees the character
tradition of resistance towards the international investment law regime
that derives from investment treaties that follow the models that
originate in the Europe–North America region. On the other hand,
new actors such as corporations, international investment lawyers, and
again governments, sought to accommodate said regime in the region.
Consequently, a profusion of theories and doctrines
Many creative intellectuals have written or spoken of their pilgrimage to meet the English/Mexican, surrealist-associated artist and writer Leonora Carrington (1917–2011) as being a profound encounter. Since her death in May 2011, there have been a profusion of creative responses to her and her work, from theatrical productions to experimental performances, from electronica to folk music, and from fashion photography to curatorial projects. This survey or curating of Carrington unpicks why artists, writers and performers, especially creative women, have become preoccupied with making work in her legacy. Such fixations and fandom move beyond mere influence, offering a way of approaching art-making and political themes as an attitude or Zeitgeist. The study focuses on the ways in which Carrington is recycled, in the writing of Chloe Aridjis and Heidi Sopinka, the conceptual art of Lucy Skaer and Tilda Swinton, and the performative practice of Samantha Sweeting, Lynn Lu, and Double Edge Theatre in order to speak to current feminist and eco-critical campaigns such as #MeToo and Writers Rebel. The book’s feminist-surrealist emphasis proposes that it is Carrington, and not one of the central players in surrealism like André Breton and Max Ernst, who is chief in keeping the surrealist message alive today.
Latin America has been a complex laboratory for the development of international investment law. While some governments and non-state actors have remained true to the Latin American tradition of resistance towards the international investment law regime, other governments and actors sought to accommodate said regime in the region. Consequently, a profusion of theories and doctrines, too often embedded in clashing narratives, has emerged. In Latin America, the practice of international investment law is the vivid amalgamation, not uniform but sharply fragmentary, of the practice of the governments sometimes resisting sometimes welcoming the mainstream approaches; the practice of the lawyers assisting foreign investors from outside and within the region; and the practice of civil society, indigenous peoples, and other actors in their struggle for human rights and sustainable development. Latin America and international investment law describes the complex roles that governments have played vis-à-vis foreign investors and investments, the refreshing but clashing forces that international organizations, corporations, civil society, and indigenous peoples have imprinted to the field; the contribution that Latin America has made to the development of the theory and practice of international investment law – notably in fields in which the Latin American experience has been traumatic: human rights and sustainable development. The authors are not only lawyers but also political scientists, not only academics but also practitioners. To the theory of international investment law, Latin American scholars have been contributing for over a century – and resting on the shoulders of true giants, Latin America and international investment law aims at pushing this contribution a little further.
The third chapter examines Livingstone’s Victorian commemoration by focusing on the ways he was constructed in 1874, the year his corpse was returned to British soil. When Livingstone passed away in Chitambo’s village after a debilitating illness, his attendants buried his innards and preserved his body before transporting it to the East African coast. From there, his remains were shipped to Britain where he was granted a national funeral in Westminster Abbey. The circumstances of Livingstone’s death took on sensational proportions in the contemporary press. He was venerated in a profusion of obituaries, eulogies, and elegiac poetry. Focusing solely on the year of Livingstone’s interment, and literary genres that deal with death, present an opportunity to explore a wealth of previously unexamined writing that helped lay the foundation of his legacy. This memorialisation casts insight into the period’s cult of the hero and its culture of death and mourning. Moreover, by examining the differing ways that Livingstone was produced in diverse social spaces, his name is revealed to be the subject of dispute. While Livingstone was a hero of Victorian culture, he is better thought of as a hero with multiple meanings for a plurality of Victorian cultures.
The challenge of the sublime argues that the unprecedented visual inventiveness of the Romantic period in Britain could be seen as a response to theories of the sublime, more specifically to Edmund Burke’s Philosophical Enquiry into the Origin of our Ideas of the Sublime and Beautiful (1757). While it is widely accepted that the Enquiry contributed to shaping the thematics of terror that became fashionable in British art from the 1770s, this book contends that its influence was of even greater consequence, paradoxically because of Burke’s conviction that the visual arts were incapable of conveying the sublime. His argument that the sublime was beyond the reach of painting, because of the mimetic nature of visual representation, directly or indirectly incited visual artists to explore not just new themes, but also new compositional strategies and even new or undeveloped pictorial and graphic media, such as the panorama, book illustrations and capricci. More significantly, it began to call into question mimetic representational models, causing artists to reflect about the presentation of the unpresentable and the inadequacy of their endeavours, and thus drawing attention to the process of artistic production itself, rather than the finished artwork. By revisiting the links between eighteenth-century aesthetic theory and visual practices, The challenge of the sublime establishes new interdisciplinary connections which address researchers in the fields of art history, cultural studies and aesthetics.
This book explores the development of Robert Lepage’s distinctive approach to stage direction in the early (1984–94) and middle (1995–2008) stages of his career, arguing that globalisation had a defining effect in shaping his aesthetic and professional trajectory. It combines examination of Lepage’s theatremaking techniques with discussion of his work’s effects on audiences, calling on Lepage’s own statements as well as existing scholarship and critical response. In addition to globalisation theory, the book draws on cinema studies, queer theory, and theories of affect and reception. As such, it offers an unprecedented conceptual framework, drawing together what has previously been a scattered field of research. Each of six chapters treats a particular aspect of globalisation, using this as a means to explore one or more of Lepage’s productions. These aspects include the relationship of the local (in Lepage’s case, his background in Québec) to the global; the place of individual experience within global late modernity; the effects of screen media on human perception; the particular affect of ‘feeling global’; the place of branding in contemporary creative systems; and the relationship of creative industries to neoliberal economies. Making theatre global: Robert Lepage’s original stage productions will be of interest to scholars of contemporary theatre, advanced-level undergraduates with an interest in the application of theoretical approaches to theatrical creation and reception, and arts lovers keen for new perspectives on one of the most talked-about theatre artists of the late twentieth and early twenty-first centuries.