tag:theconversation.com,2011:/africa/topics/aesthetics-28011/articles
Aesthetics – The Conversation
2024-03-12T12:29:06Z
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/220026
2024-03-12T12:29:06Z
2024-03-12T12:29:06Z
What is the Japanese ‘wabi-sabi’ aesthetic actually about? ‘Miserable tea’ and loneliness, for starters
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/580795/original/file-20240309-24-70pplt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C3%2C2046%2C1454&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">A perfectly imperfect tea bowl.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/photo/earthenware-bowl-with-glazing-against-black-royalty-free-image/1689830483?phrase=wabi+sabi&adppopup=true">Zen Rial/Moment via Getty Images</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>On a recent visit to New York I stopped at a Japanese bookstore in Manhattan. Among the English-language books about Japan, I encountered a section of a shelf marked “WABI-SABI” and stocked with titles such as “Wabi Sabi Love,” “The Wabi-Sabi Way,” “Wabi-Sabi for Artists, Designers, Poets & Philosophers,” and, in all lowercase, “simply imperfect: revisiting the wabi-sabi house.” </p>
<p>What is wabi-sabi, and why does it rate its own section alongside such topics as sushi and karate?</p>
<p>Wabi-sabi is typically described as a traditional Japanese aesthetic: the beauty of something perfectly imperfect, in the sense of “flawed” or “unfinished.” Actually, however, wabi and sabi are similar but distinct concepts, yoked together far more often outside Japan than in it. Even people who have been brought up in Japan may struggle to define wabi and sabi precisely, though each is certainly authentically Japanese and neither is especially obscure.</p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/580796/original/file-20240309-30-4z3p0j.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Two rows of books displayed spine-out in a store." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/580796/original/file-20240309-30-4z3p0j.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/580796/original/file-20240309-30-4z3p0j.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=680&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/580796/original/file-20240309-30-4z3p0j.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=680&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/580796/original/file-20240309-30-4z3p0j.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=680&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/580796/original/file-20240309-30-4z3p0j.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=855&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/580796/original/file-20240309-30-4z3p0j.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=855&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/580796/original/file-20240309-30-4z3p0j.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=855&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A wabi-sabi sighting in New York.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Paul S. Atkins</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>As <a href="https://asian.washington.edu/people/paul-s-atkins">a scholar of classical Japanese language, literature and culture</a>, I too have a professional interest in wabi and sabi and how they have come to be understood outside Japan. A cursory search of Google Books shows that the term began to appear in print in English around 1980. Perhaps this was a delayed reaction to a book by <a href="https://trc-leiden.nl/trc-needles/people-and-functions/authors-scholars-and-activists/yanagi-soetsu-1889-1961">Japanese art critic Yanagi Soetsu</a>, “<a href="https://kodansha.us/product/the-unknown-craftsman/">The Unknown Craftsman</a>,” which was translated into English and published in 1972.</p>
<p>In it, in an essay titled, “The Beauty of Irregularity,” Yanagi wrote about the art of the tea ceremony and its simple grace. More broadly, as the title suggests, he was captivated by a sense of beauty apart from traditional ideals of perfection, refinement and symmetry. </p>
<p>Behind “roughness,” Yanagi wrote, “lurks a hidden beauty, to which we refer in our peculiar adjectives ‘shibui,’ ‘wabi,’ and ‘sabi.’” </p>
<p>Shibui means austere or restrained, yet it was wabi and sabi that caught on abroad – perhaps because they rhyme.</p>
<p>After taking off in America and other countries, the phrase wabi-sabi was imported back to Japan as a compound term; the mentions I found in online Japanese sources typically addressed such topics as how to explain wabi-sabi to foreigners. Wabi-sabi does not appear in standard dictionaries of the Japanese language.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/580798/original/file-20240309-20-kp1zde.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="The interior of a simple room with faded walls, wooden beams, and a simple scroll hanging in the background." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/580798/original/file-20240309-20-kp1zde.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/580798/original/file-20240309-20-kp1zde.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/580798/original/file-20240309-20-kp1zde.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/580798/original/file-20240309-20-kp1zde.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/580798/original/file-20240309-20-kp1zde.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=501&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/580798/original/file-20240309-20-kp1zde.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=501&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/580798/original/file-20240309-20-kp1zde.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=501&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A tearoom in Kyoto, Japan.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/photo/tea-room-low-angle-view-royalty-free-image/200552152-001?phrase=japan+tea+room&adppopup=true">Karin Slade/Corbis Documentary via Getty Images</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Miserable poetry</h2>
<p>Wabi is a noun derived from the classical Japanese verb “wabu,” related to the modern verb “wabiru” and adjective “wabishii.” Wabu means to languish or be miserable. </p>
<p>Here is a celebrated example from a ninth-century waka poem, <a href="http://afe.easia.columbia.edu/special/japan_600ce_waka.htm">the brief verse of 31 syllables</a> that forms the backbone of classical Japanese poetry. The poet, a courtier named Yukihira, was a provincial governor who, by some accounts, <a href="https://asia453.wordpress.com/literary-locations/locations2016/lack-and-loneliness-on-the-shores-of-suma/">was exiled to Suma Bay</a>, a famous stretch of coastline in western Japan.</p>
<blockquote>Should by chance<br>
Someone ask for me,<br>
Answer that I languish<br>
At Suma Bay, shedding<br>
brine upon the seaweed.</blockquote>
<p>Suma Bay wasn’t all misery for Yukihira; according to legend, <a href="https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/78554">he loved and was loved</a> by two sisters there. But his poem well captures the pain of wabi – the misery of having been exiled from the courtly world he knew.</p>
<h2>Miserable tea</h2>
<p>Eventually, the misery of wabi made its way into one of Japan’s most iconic traditions: tea.</p>
<p>The custom of drinking powdered green tea, called matcha, entered Japan around 1200. Zen monks returning from China brought the powder home, using it as a medicine and a stimulant. Over time, tea spread to the rest of the population; by the middle of the 16th century, it was a mundane part of everyday life.</p>
<p>It was precisely then that the preparation and serving of tea was sublimated to high art, now known as “chadō” or “sadō,” <a href="https://www.urasenke.or.jp/texte/about/chado/">the so-called Way of Tea</a>.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/577821/original/file-20240226-20-q7p9f5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Two people kneeling in a small, roofed room open to the outdoors, set in a garden, look at the photographer." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/577821/original/file-20240226-20-q7p9f5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/577821/original/file-20240226-20-q7p9f5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=479&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/577821/original/file-20240226-20-q7p9f5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=479&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/577821/original/file-20240226-20-q7p9f5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=479&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/577821/original/file-20240226-20-q7p9f5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=602&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/577821/original/file-20240226-20-q7p9f5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=602&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/577821/original/file-20240226-20-q7p9f5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=602&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A Japanese couple in a 19th-century tearoom.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/japanese-couple-in-teahouse-news-photo/534244298?adppopup=true">Historical Picture Archive/Corbis Historical via Getty Images</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>As the tea ceremony gained in popularity, powerful warlords competed in acquiring the most coveted utensils, including braziers, kettles, scoops, whisks and the bowllike cups in which the tea was whipped and sipped. The tearoom itself might be decorated with rare works of art, such as paintings or calligraphy mounted on hanging scrolls, elaborate flower vases and incense burners.</p>
<p>Then there emerged a group of connoisseurs and teachers of tea who championed a more severe and austere style of presentation: “wabi-cha,” which literally means miserable tea. Whereas newly ascendant warriors and merchants used the tea gathering to flaunt their wealth, <a href="https://library.oapen.org/handle/20.500.12657/76335">wabi-style tea</a> emphasized subtlety, frugality and restraint.</p>
<p>It is not hard to see traces of wabi in old tearooms, with their patina of age and elegant but unobtrusive furnishings, and in the utensils themselves – in particular, the misshapen, cracked or somber-hued teabowls. </p>
<p>Wabi-style tea perhaps reached its pinnacle in the 16th century, when the celebrated tea master <a href="https://digitalcommons.unl.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1028&context=arch_facultyschol">Sen no Rikyū</a> introduced innovations still used today. These include bamboo tea scoops, black raku-style ceramic teabowls and the “crawling entrance”: the 2-by-2-foot door through which attendees wriggle in order to enter the cozy, womblike tearoom.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/580799/original/file-20240309-30-b210tf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A plain black bowl with a faint golden pattern, resting against a white backdrop." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/580799/original/file-20240309-30-b210tf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/580799/original/file-20240309-30-b210tf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=415&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/580799/original/file-20240309-30-b210tf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=415&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/580799/original/file-20240309-30-b210tf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=415&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/580799/original/file-20240309-30-b210tf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=521&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/580799/original/file-20240309-30-b210tf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=521&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/580799/original/file-20240309-30-b210tf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=521&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A raku-ware teabowl with a design of geese, made in the 18th or 19th century.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/raku-ware-tea-bowl-with-design-of-descending-geese-18th-news-photo/1365697034?adppopup=true">Heritage Art/Heritage Images via Getty Images</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>A lovely loneliness</h2>
<p>Like wabi, sabi is a noun: in this case, derived from the classical verb “sabu.” Today, the verb “sabiru” means to rust, with its connotations of age and decay. The modern adjective “sabishii” means lonely.</p>
<p>Classical poems yield many examples of sabi but it really took off as an aesthetic ideal in the 17th century. Poets often tried to capture its particular kind of loneliness in the 17-syllable poetic form of haiku.</p>
<p>As the scholar <a href="https://news.stanford.edu/2020/10/02/makoto-ueda-stanford-japanese-literature-professor-emeritus-dies-89/">Makoto Ueda</a> remarked, sabi is “not the loneliness of a man who has lost his dear one, but <a href="https://press.umich.edu/Books/L/Literary-and-Art-Theories-in-Japan">the loneliness of the rain</a> falling on large taro leaves at night, or the loneliness emerging out of a cicada’s cry amid the white, dry rocks, or the Milky Way extending over the rough sea, or a huge river torrentially rushing in the rainy season.” </p>
<p><a href="https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/basho">Matsuo Bashō</a>, a 17th-century master of haiku, saw sabi <a href="https://www2.yamanashi-ken.ac.jp/%7Eitoyo/basho/shitibusyu/sumidawara1.htm">in this verse</a> by his disciple Mukai Kyorai, translated by Ueda: </p>
<blockquote>Under the blossoms<br>
Two aged watchmen,<br>
With their white heads together—.</blockquote>
<p>The juxtaposition of wabi-sabi as a single term is of recent, not ancient, vintage, and it does not seem to have occurred in Japan. Nonetheless, the terms originated in Japanese aesthetics: sabi out of poetry and wabi out of tea. </p>
<p>Combined, they appear to fill a gap in the Western vocabulary for talking about art and life – a leaning away from perfection, completion and excess, and a yearning toward leaving something undone, broken or unsaid.</p>
<p><em>This story has been updated to correct the description of a tearoom door’s dimensions.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/220026/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>I was a student of Professor Makoto Ueda.</span></em></p>
‘Wabi’ and ‘sabi’ are Japanese words with long histories, but they are rarely used together in the way Western designers have come to use the term.
Paul S. Atkins, Professor of Japanese, University of Washington
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/217926
2023-11-26T19:20:31Z
2023-11-26T19:20:31Z
Casual, distant, aesthetically limited: 5 ways smartphone photography is changing how we see the world
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/560139/original/file-20231117-28-ysib4m.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=428%2C169%2C3017%2C1961&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">T.J. Thomson</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Smartphones are a staple of modern life and are changing how we see the world and show it to others. Almost <a href="https://www.statista.com/statistics/321477/smartphone-user-penetration-in-australia/">90% of Aussies own one</a>, and we spend an average of <a href="https://www.reviews.org/au/mobile/2022-mobile-phone-usage-statistics/#:%7E:text=How%20much%20do%20you%20spend,day%20compared%20to%20last%20year">5.6 hours</a> using them each day. Smartphones are also responsible for more than <a href="https://photutorial.com/photos-statistics/">90% of all the photographs</a> made this year. </p>
<p>But compare the camera roll of a 60-year-old with that of a 13-year-old, as we recently did, and you’ll find some surprising differences. In <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/1051144X.2023.2281163?src=">research published in the Journal of Visual Literacy</a>, we looked at how different generations use smartphones for photography as well as broader trends that reveal how these devices change the way we see the world. </p>
<p>Here are five patterns we observed.</p>
<h2>1. We make images more casually and with a wider subject matter</h2>
<p>Before the first smartphone camera was released in 2007, cameras were used more selectively and for a narrower range of purposes. You might only see them at events like weddings and graduations, or at tourist hotspots on holidays. </p>
<p>Now, they’re ubiquitous in everyday life. We use smartphones to document our meals, our daily gym progress, and our classwork as well as the more “special” moments in our lives.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="A triptych of everyday photos showing a meal, a book, and a bottle of medicine." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/560069/original/file-20231116-17-j2pkgt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/560069/original/file-20231116-17-j2pkgt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=264&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560069/original/file-20231116-17-j2pkgt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=264&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560069/original/file-20231116-17-j2pkgt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=264&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560069/original/file-20231116-17-j2pkgt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=332&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560069/original/file-20231116-17-j2pkgt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=332&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560069/original/file-20231116-17-j2pkgt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=332&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">In the old days cameras only came out for special occasions, but we now tend to use our smartphones to document a wider range of subject matter, including our most recent meal, something we see and want to add to our shopping wish list, or an item at the shops that we want to confirm with a family member.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">T.J. Thomson</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Many middle-aged people use smartphones most for work-related purposes. One of our participants put it this way:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>I often take photos of info I want to save, or of clients’ work when I want to then email it to myself to put on the computer. I feel like I’ve gotten a little slack on socially taking photos of friends … but in the day-to-day, I feel like I use it very practically now for basically work, grabbing a photo to upload it online somewhere.</p>
</blockquote>
<h2>2. We aren’t as selfie-obsessed as some would think</h2>
<p>Our participants only used their phone’s front “selfie” camera 14% of the time. They acknowledged the stigma around selfies and didn’t want to be perceived as narcissistic.</p>
<h2>3. We’re seeing more vertical compositions</h2>
<p>In years past, whether you had a bulky DSLR camera or a lightweight disposable, the “default” grip was to hold it with two hands in a horizontal way. This leads to photos in landscape orientation. </p>
<p>But the vertical design of smartphones and accompanying apps, such as Instagram and Snapchat, are resulting in more photos in portrait orientation. Participants said holding their smartphone cameras this way was more convenient and faster. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/560072/original/file-20231116-26-acgst3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Screenshots from Instagram, X, and Snapchat, showing photos with a vertical orientation or portrait aspect ratio." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/560072/original/file-20231116-26-acgst3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/560072/original/file-20231116-26-acgst3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=422&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560072/original/file-20231116-26-acgst3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=422&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560072/original/file-20231116-26-acgst3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=422&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560072/original/file-20231116-26-acgst3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=530&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560072/original/file-20231116-26-acgst3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=530&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560072/original/file-20231116-26-acgst3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=530&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The vertical design of smartphones and associated popular social media apps, such as Snapchat, Instagram, and X, influences how people use their smartphone cameras.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Instagram / X / Snapchat</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>4. We like to keep our distance</h2>
<p>Participants made more images of people from farther away compared to getting close. Intimate “head and face” framing was only present in fewer than 10% of the images. </p>
<p>In one participant’s words:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>I feel like my friends and I get frustrated with parents, when they’re zooming in a photo or they walk in really close. My mom would always get one like right in my face, like <em>this is too close!</em> I don’t want to see this. The zoom in, oh, it’s frustrating!</p>
</blockquote>
<h2>5. We get inspired by what we see online</h2>
<p>Teenagers in particular mentioned social media, especially Instagram, as influencing their visual sensibilities. Older adults were more likely to attribute their sense of aesthetics to physical media, such as photography books, magazines and posters. </p>
<p>This aesthetic inspiration impacts what we take photos of, and also how we do it. For example, young people mentioned a centred compositional approach most often. In contrast, older generations invoked the “rule of thirds” approach more often.</p>
<p>One participant contrasted generational differences like this:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>There seems to be a real lack of interest [by younger people] in say, composition, or the use of light or that sort of aesthetic side of getting an image. When my partner and I were kids […] our access to different aesthetics and images was actually very limited. You had the four channels on TV, you had magazines, you had the occasional film, you had record covers, and that was it, you know. Whereas, kids these days, they’re saturated with images but the aesthetic aspect doesn’t seem to be that important to them.</p>
</blockquote>
<h2>Why the way we make images matters</h2>
<p>While technology is changing the way people see the world and make photographs, it’s important to reflect on why we do what we do, and with what effects. </p>
<p>For example, the camera angle we use might either give or take away symbolic power from the subject. Photographing an athlete or politician from below makes them look more strong and heroic, while photographing a refugee from above can make them look less powerful. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="Two photos: one taken from a low angle looking up at a posing skateboarder, the other taken from a standing height looking down at three people sitting on the ground at the base of a wall." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/560081/original/file-20231116-29-i6ltod.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/560081/original/file-20231116-29-i6ltod.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=444&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560081/original/file-20231116-29-i6ltod.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=444&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560081/original/file-20231116-29-i6ltod.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=444&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560081/original/file-20231116-29-i6ltod.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=558&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560081/original/file-20231116-29-i6ltod.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=558&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/560081/original/file-20231116-29-i6ltod.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=558&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The vertical camera angle can sometimes be used pragmatically but sometimes connotes symbolic power differences. The low angle of the athlete at left provides more symbolic power than the high angle of the three figures at right.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Vladislav Todorov via Unsplash (left) / Aleksandr Kadykov via Unsplash (right)</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Sometimes the camera angles we use are harmless or driven by practicality – think photographing a receipt to get reimbursed later – but other times, the angles we use matter and can reinforce existing inequalities.</p>
<p>As the number of images made each year increases and <a href="https://theconversation.com/ageism-sexism-classism-and-more-7-examples-of-bias-in-ai-generated-images-208748">new ways to make images</a> emerge, being thoughtful about how we use our cameras or other image-making technology becomes more important.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/217926/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>The research underpinning this article was supported by a research grant from the International Visual Literacy Association. T.J. Thomson receives funding from the Australian Research Council. </span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>The research underpinning this article was supported by a research grant from the International Visual Literacy Association. Shehab Uddin is affiliated with Pathshala South Asian Media Institute.
. </span></em></p>
Camera rolls reveal how photography is transforming in the smartphone era.
T.J. Thomson, Senior Lecturer in Visual Communication & Digital Media, RMIT University
Shehab Uddin, Programme Director, Higher Degree Research, Pathshala South Asian Media Institute
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/197517
2023-03-14T12:24:14Z
2023-03-14T12:24:14Z
‘Pantry porn’ on TikTok and Instagram makes obsessively organized kitchens a new status symbol
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/514064/original/file-20230307-16-ldfmb1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=8%2C1023%2C3970%2C2667&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Influencers have started filming themselves shopping for supplies, prepping food, refilling containers and organizing their pantries.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/photo/housewife-recording-video-reviewing-products-on-royalty-free-image/1347323041?phrase=filming pantry&adppopup=true">Valeriy_G/iStock via Getty Images Plus</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Neatly aligned <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/Cn7Nx7Wux9S/?hl=en">glass spice jars</a> tagged with printed white labels. <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/CYq_ioGqQzU/?hl=en">Wicker baskets</a> filled with packages of pasta, crackers and snacks. Rows of flavored seltzer water stacked in double-decker <a href="https://www.tasteofhome.com/collection/best-drink-organizers-fridge/">plastic bins</a>.</p>
<p>In today’s consumer culture, “a place for everything and everything in its place” isn’t just a mantra; it’s big business. Nowhere is this more evident than the kitchen pantry.</p>
<p>Most people can relate to finding half-empty cereal boxes squirreled away in the cupboard or letting produce sit just a bit too long in a refrigerator drawer. </p>
<p>But for a subset of social media denizens, such sacrileges would never grace their feeds.</p>
<p>As someone who studies <a href="https://jennadrenten.com/">digital consumer culture</a>, I’ve noticed an uptick in glamorized, stylized and fully stocked pantries on TikTok and Instagram, giving rise to a content genre I dub “pantry porn.” </p>
<p>How did the perfectly organized pantry become so ubiquitous in the digital age? And what does it say about the expectations of being a good homemaker?</p>
<h2>When pantries became pretty</h2>
<p><a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/The_Pantry/wSW30jYW7qEC?hl=en">The pantry</a> – derived from the Latin word for bread, “panis” – was originally a hidden space for storing food. It was purely functional, not a place to show off to others. In the late 1800s, the butler’s pantry emerged as an architectural trend among high society. This small space, tucked between the kitchen and dining room, was a marker of status – an area to hide both the food and <a href="https://doi.org/10.2307/4486064">the people who prepared it</a>. </p>
<p>Throughout the next century, pantries started being built in middle-class homes. As open floor plans became popular in the 1950s, <a href="https://www.theatlantic.com/family/archive/2018/05/the-curse-of-an-open-floor-plan/560561/">kitchens emerged into plain view</a>. This design shift paved the way for many modern American pantries to feature sweeping floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall cabinetry and walk-in storage spaces.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="Drawing of a woman entering a pantry with exposed shelves." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/513778/original/file-20230306-16-b0vjid.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/513778/original/file-20230306-16-b0vjid.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=483&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/513778/original/file-20230306-16-b0vjid.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=483&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/513778/original/file-20230306-16-b0vjid.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=483&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/513778/original/file-20230306-16-b0vjid.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=607&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/513778/original/file-20230306-16-b0vjid.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=607&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/513778/original/file-20230306-16-b0vjid.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=607&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Bigger homes meant more space to store food.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/an-american-housewife-walks-into-her-large-kitchen-walk-in-news-photo/508414955">GraphicaArtis/Hulton Archive via Getty Images.</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Today, over 85% of new homes built in America that are over 3,500 square feet feature a walk-in pantry, reportedly the most desirable kitchen feature for new homebuyers, according to <a href="https://www.realtor.com/advice/home-improvement/the-walk-in-kitchen-pantry-is-the-new-designer-shoe-closet/">a 2019 report</a>.</p>
<p>Celebrities can be credited – at least, in part – for making the pantry <a href="https://www.vice.com/en/article/k7e3yy/celebrity-kitchens-are-beautiful-barely-used-and-basically-one-big-flex">a modern-day status symbol</a>. The Kardashian-Jenner family has long been an exemplar for #pantrygoals, and former “Real Housewives” star Yolanda Hadid has social media fan pages <a href="https://www.bravotv.com/the-daily-dish/yolanda-foster-fridge-real-housewives-beverly-hills">dedicated to her fridge</a>. </p>
<p>In the digital age, social media influencers have stepped in as trickle-down tastemakers who translate symbols of celebrity culture into accessible markers of status for the rest of us. </p>
<p>Meticulously arranged pantries appeal to middle-class sensibilities: Maybe you can’t have a designer kitchen, but you can beautify your bulk food storage.</p>
<p><div data-react-class="InstagramEmbed" data-react-props="{"url":"https://www.instagram.com/p/CmZRpRWp5vq","accessToken":"127105130696839|b4b75090c9688d81dfd245afe6052f20"}"></div></p>
<h2>Move over food porn – make way for pantry porn</h2>
<p>Throughout the 2010s, <a href="https://doi.org/10.1016/j.ijhm.2022.103347">food porn</a> dominated social media. The so-called “<a href="https://www.kcrw.com/culture/shows/good-food/uyghur-cuisine-food-instagram-sake-tomatoes/social-media-influence-identity-what-we-eat">camera eats first</a>” phenomenon introduced user-generated images of cooking, eating and staging food. </p>
<p>Consumers’ <a href="https://www.cntraveler.com/story/why-restaurants-should-ban-food-instagramming">controversial obsession with food photography</a> resulted in some restaurants <a href="https://www.vice.com/en/article/j5jjkx/why-this-top-restaurant-just-banned-instagram">banning smartphone photography</a> while other businesses created veritable wonderlands for food-inspired selfies such as the <a href="https://www.wired.com/story/selfie-factories-instagram-museum/">Museum of Ice Cream</a> and <a href="https://www.bonappetit.com/story/the-egg-house-experience-review">The Egg House</a>. </p>
<p>New technology <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/22041451.2018.1482190">did not invent food porn</a>, but it did catalyze it in new ways. Consumers armed with camera phones could suddenly <a href="https://link.springer.com/chapter/10.1057/9781137463234_14">fetishize meals</a> for the voyeuristic pleasure of their friends and followers. This dynamic of <a href="https://www.taylorfrancis.com/chapters/edit/10.4324/9781003042587-29/big-brother-monitoring-lauren-gurrieri-jenna-drenten">watching and being watched</a> is a hallmark of modern digital consumer culture where nonsexual things are <a href="https://www.publicbooks.org/marcus-tribute-2020-pornography-porn/">linguistically tethered to porn</a>: food porn, travel porn, book porn, real estate porn. Coupling social media content with the “porn” descriptor acts as shorthand for desirability, gratification and gawking. </p>
<p>Pantry porn is a mashup of infotainment, <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@lifewithdaniielle/video/7171185932987616555?is_from_webapp=1&sender_device=pc&web_id=7036403986962433542">how-to</a>, lifestyle content and <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@kami.larae/video/7151014174787751214?q=pantry%20asmr&t=1675977877710">ASMR</a>, a form of <a href="https://www.vox.com/2015/7/15/8965393/asmr-video-youtube-autonomous-sensory-meridian-response">sound-driven content</a> intended to relax viewers.</p>
<p>Influencers film themselves shopping for supplies, prepping food, refilling containers, and organizing their pantries – often coupled with hashtags like #pantryrestock, #pantryASMR, and #pantrygoals. They <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@ennyfay/video/7175946790255086853">transfer dry goods</a> from the store-bought bags into matching glassware; they stock the home coffee bar with <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@makeitwithmicah/video/7185687916226678059?is_from_webapp=1&sender_device=pc&web_id=7036403986962433542">coffee pods</a> and <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@bigmommakimbo7/video/7181952203928784174?is_from_webapp=1&sender_device=pc&web_id=7036403986962433542">flavored syrups</a>; they refill stackable bins with <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@ssevcech/video/7076208728118250794?is_from_webapp=1&sender_device=pc&web_id=7036403986962433542">single-serving snacks</a>; they create multiple <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@kaelimaee/video/7177846917873847594?is_from_webapp=1&sender_device=pc&web_id=7036403986962433542">types of ice cubes</a> – each with its own dedicated freezer section. Much of this pantry porn is performed against a backdrop of rhythmic ASMR-inspired clinks, glugs, snaps, rips and thunks that <a href="https://doi.org/10.1016/j.concog.2023.103477">appeal to viewers’ pleasure centers</a>. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/509282/original/file-20230209-24-vl0053.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/509282/original/file-20230209-24-vl0053.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=331&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/509282/original/file-20230209-24-vl0053.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=331&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/509282/original/file-20230209-24-vl0053.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=331&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/509282/original/file-20230209-24-vl0053.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=416&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/509282/original/file-20230209-24-vl0053.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=416&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/509282/original/file-20230209-24-vl0053.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=416&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Screenshots of snack drawer restock videos on TikTok.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">TikTok</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Like its food porn predecessor, pantry porn thrives on stylizing everyday life in exaggerated ways. But where food porn <a href="https://theconversation.com/foodporn-people-are-more-attracted-to-social-media-content-showcasing-fatty-foods-160221">elicits a desire for gluttonous indulgence</a>, pantry porn taps into a different cultural desire: the orderly arrangement of abundance.</p>
<h2>Excess is bad, but organized excess is good</h2>
<p>The past decade has ushered in a <a href="https://doi.org/10.1111/joca.12499">home organizing revolution</a>. </p>
<p>An entire cottage industry of <a href="https://organizingmoms.com/">blogs</a>, <a href="https://shop.konmari.com/products/the-life-changing-magic-of-tidying-up-1">books</a> and <a href="https://www.containerstore.com/blog/posts/get-organized-with-the-home-edit">television shows</a> have introduced people to terms like “decluttering,” “minimalism” and “simple living.” </p>
<p>Minimalism once represented a countercultural lifestyle rooted in <a href="https://www.taylorfrancis.com/chapters/edit/10.4324/9780367821586-4/evolution-voluntary-simplicity-stephen-zavestoski-marilyn-delaure">anti-consumption</a>: Use less, buy less, have less. </p>
<p>But if pantry porn is any indication, the <a href="https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2020/02/03/the-pitfalls-and-the-potential-of-the-new-minimalism">new minimalism</a> means more is more, as long as the more is not messy. Consumers don’t need less, they need more: more containers, more labels, more storage space. </p>
<p>Storing spices in <a href="https://www.hunker.com/13776442/hailey-bieber-built-in-spice-shelf">coordinated glass jars</a> and color coordinating dozens of <a href="https://www.cheatsheet.com/entertainment/kylie-jenner-shows-off-pantry-sprinkles.html/">sprinkles containers</a> may seem trivial. But tidiness <a href="https://doi.org/10.1086/676922">is tangled up with status</a>, and <a href="https://www.thecut.com/2023/02/embracing-mess-vs-cleanliness.html">messiness is loaded with assumptions</a> about personal responsibility and respectability.</p>
<p>Cleanliness has historically been used as a <a href="https://doi.org/10.2307/1894408">cultural gatekeeping mechanism</a> to reinforce status distinctions based on a vague understanding of “niceness”: nice people, with nice yards, in nice houses, make for <a href="https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1548-7466.2009.01047.x">nice neighborhoods</a>.</p>
<p>What lies beneath the surface of this anti-messiness, pro-niceness stance is a <a href="https://doi.org/10.13001/jwcs.v1i1.5809">history of classist</a>, <a href="https://doi.org/10.1353/jowh.2003.0025">racist</a> and <a href="https://doi.org/10.1353/jowh.2006.0056">sexist</a> social structures. In my research, influencers who produce pantry porn are predominantly white women who demonstrate what it looks like to maintain a “nice” home by creating a new status symbol: the perfectly organized, fully stocked pantry. </p>
<p><div data-react-class="InstagramEmbed" data-react-props="{"url":"https://www.instagram.com/p/CoGkz58oWXp","accessToken":"127105130696839|b4b75090c9688d81dfd245afe6052f20"}"></div></p>
<p>Perhaps it’s not surprising that pantry porn found its foothold <a href="https://www.apartmenttherapy.com/home-organization-pandemic-trend-home-edit-36827645">during the COVID-19 pandemic</a>, when shortages in the supply chain surged. Keeping stuff on hand became <a href="https://doi.org/10.1016%2Fj.appet.2020.104981">a symbol of resilience</a> for those with the money and space to do so. This allure of strategic stockpiling is evident in other collector subcultures like doomsday preppers and extreme couponers.</p>
<h2>The pressure of the perfect kitchen</h2>
<p><a href="https://doi.org/10.1177/15274764221150163">The work</a> required to restock, refill, and reset the kitchen is a central element in producing everyday pantry porn. </p>
<p>In my research, I’ve found that this work often falls to women in the household. One TikTok mom goes on a “<a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@lifewithdaniielle/video/7138922368965152046">snack strike</a>,” stating she will not <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@lifewithdaniielle/video/7145935660875156782">restock the pantry</a> until her children and husband eat what they already have.</p>
<p>Magazines like Good Housekeeping were once the brokers of <a href="https://doi.org/10.2752/174063106778053255">idealized domestic work</a>. Now online pantry porn sets the aspirational standard for becoming an ideal mom, ideal wife and ideal woman. This grew out of a shift toward an <a href="https://yalebooks.yale.edu/book/9780300076523/the-cultural-contradictions-of-motherhood/">intensive mothering ideology</a> that equates being a good mom with time-intensive, labor-intensive, financially expensive care work. </p>
<p>Sure, all of those baskets and bins serve a functional purpose in the home: seeing what you need, when you need it. But the social pressure to curate a perfect pantry might make <a href="https://cultureunbound.ep.liu.se/article/view/1021">some women work overtime</a>. They can’t just shove store-bought boxes of snacks into a cupboard; they must neatly place the grab-and-go snacks into a <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@shadiersandy/video/7167154682006179115?is_from_webapp=1&sender_device=pc&web_id=7036403986962433542">fully stocked pantry</a> that rivals a boutique corner store. </p>
<p>Pantry porn, as a status symbol, relies on the promise of making daily domestic work easier. But if women are largely responsible for the work required to maintain the perfectly organized pantry, it’s critical to ask: easier for whom?</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/197517/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Jenna Drenten does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Maybe you can’t have a designer kitchen. But you can still beautify your bulk food storage.
Jenna Drenten, Associate Professor of Marketing, Loyola University Chicago
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/191581
2022-11-09T14:13:07Z
2022-11-09T14:13:07Z
Crime is lower when cities are greener: evidence from South Africa supports the link
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/491269/original/file-20221024-19-ig161m.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C0%2C5084%2C3389&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Investment in public parks can help reduce crime. </span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/western-cape-south-africa-man-wearing-protective-clothing-news-photo/1219978375?phrase=gardens%20and%20public%20parks%20in%20south%20africa&adppopup=true">Peter Titmuss/Education Images/Universal Images Group via Getty Images.</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>South Africa’s population is urbanising at a rapid pace. The sheer rate of change poses challenges to planning for sustainable and liveable cities.</p>
<p>Part of what make cities work is having green spaces, such as parks, sports fields, nature trails and street trees. These provide many social, ecological and economic <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0160412018331751?via%3Dihub">benefits</a>. Research from multiple countries such as <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S1618866713001350?casa_token=pwYnNL6ExSoAAAAA:Y-VhMZ6qhTz7pHzmIUCZAKX2dYtbrH_fm8SipbLilGnxEKmulM6hDHG2vVnnR7aMMf1M6VTVdQ">Australia</a>, China, Finland, India, the <a href="https://www.mdpi.com/1660-4601/16/24/5119">US</a> and South Africa has shown this.</p>
<p>Aside from looking good and providing recreation, urban green spaces improve air quality, physical and mental health, and regulate storm water flows. They counteract urban heat islands, store carbon and create jobs.</p>
<p>Some communities nevertheless oppose urban greening efforts because they fear that green spaces and street trees provide places for <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S1618866713001350">criminals to hide</a>. Such fears are not unique to South Africa and have been reported from cities in both developed and developing countries.</p>
<p>A great deal of research has been done on urban greening and its association with crime levels. But most of these studies have been conducted in Europe and North America, which are very different socially and economically to developing countries and have markedly lower rates of crime. </p>
<p>We <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S004896972201097X">conducted research</a> to complement the evidence from the global north. Our study is the first ever national level analysis of the relationship between various measures of urban greenness and three different classes of crime: property, violent and sexual crimes. </p>
<p>Our findings, based on research in South Africa, lend further credence to calls for urban greening to be adopted as a major strategy in cities – for both environmental sustainability, as well as social sustainability.</p>
<h2>Drilling down</h2>
<p>We used 10 years of precinct-level crime statistics in South Africa to test the hypothesis that green space is associated with reduced crime rates. South Africa has one of the highest crime rates in the <a href="https://www.gallup.com/analytics/322247/gallup-global-law-and-order-report-2020.aspx">world</a>, making it an important test of the relationship between urban greening and crime. </p>
<p>Using the broadest greenness measure – total green space – the results of this national-scale study corroborate many <a href="https://www.mdpi.com/1660-4601/16/24/5119">previous studies</a> from the global north indicating that greener neighbourhoods have significantly lower rates of violent and property crimes. Thus, the relationship reported in other countries and contexts appears to be robust in even a relatively high crime context like South Africa. </p>
<p>To gauge the relationship <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S004896972201097X">in South Africa</a> we used several measures of urban greenness, several different crime categories, and a national analysis.</p>
<p>We obtained crime statistics per police precinct (there are 1,152 police precints) between 2010 and 2019 from the South African Police Service and aggregated them into property, violent and sexual crimes (expressed as per 100,000 citizens for each police precinct). </p>
<p>We then used remote sensing to calculate the total area of green space per precinct, the proportional (percentage) cover of trees, and the average distance to the closest formal or informal park.</p>
<p>We found that greener areas had lower rates of both violent and property crimes. But there was no relationship with the rate of sexual crimes. A more mixed picture was revealed when considering tree cover specifically, where property crime was higher with more tree cover, but violent crimes were fewer. </p>
<p>However, property crimes were higher in locations close to public parks and sites with more trees. </p>
<p>Proximity to parks showed no relationship with the rates of violent or sexual crimes. </p>
<p>The concentration of property crimes in neighbourhoods with more trees and parks can be explained by such areas typically being where more affluent households are found.</p>
<p>But well-maintained public parks, and those with fencing, lighting, playing fields and some sort of security show lower crime levels in adjacent areas than poorly maintained parks or those <a href="https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/full/10.1177/0022427816666309?casa_token=bVeZkvibpZcAAAAA%3ADXzO3-2POkIM96kbujiRf3DE_KmvWZGjR0owrGsu2ClZQiJr3bdV6RYsdhs-R8d_SiWkpaMvYrMx">lacking basic facilities</a>.</p>
<h2>What needs to be done</h2>
<p>These findings add further impetus to arguments for urban planners and decision-makers in South Africa (and similar contexts) to be more proactive and ambitious in including and integrating urban green spaces and trees into urban developments. </p>
<p>Planners and authorities often downplay such calls because they are viewed as coming from an environmental lobby, and because – they say – there are more pressing economic and social development <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S0264837714001501?casa_token=_ZixOjEqP4sAAAAA:0LkAd_dHkAXGoUMgJmX_nkxHtxO8Na0i5J1O23SvXIauJ3vap3uiAEtfYFB0Kn3JPcXTRmk48Q">needs</a>. </p>
<p>But this research shows that benefits of urban greening extend well beyond an environmental agenda. They embrace social inclusivity and sustainability too, alongside the well-established public health benefits. </p>
<p>Urban greening, therefore, needs to be one of the foremost considerations in urban planning and development in the country. It also requires budgets, expertise and strategies beyond the planning phase to allow for regular tree and green space maintenance that keeps them functional and attractive to local citizens. </p>
<p>The research also supports calls for urban greening to be <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/21665095.2021.1950019">integrated</a> into any holistic crime prevention strategy. </p>
<p><em>Lizzette Lancaster, Manager: Crime and Justice Information Hub, Institute of Security Studies, Pretoria, South Africa, contributed to this article.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/191581/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Charlie Shackleton receives funding from the national Research Foundation (South Africa). </span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Andrew Faull is affiliated with the Institute for Security Studies (ISS) and receives funding from the Hanns Seidel Foundation.</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Gregory Breetzke, Ian Edelstein, and Zander Venter do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
People may think that green spaces often hide criminals. On the contrary, there is evidence they contribute to reducing crime.
Charlie Shackleton, Professor & Research Chair in Interdisciplinary Science in Land and Natural Resource Use for Sustainable Livelihoods, Rhodes University
Andrew Faull, Research Associate at UCT's Centre of Criminology, Consultant at the Institute for Security Studies (ISS), University of Cape Town
Gregory Breetzke, Associate Professor, Department of Geography, Geoinformatics and Meteorology, University of Pretoria
Ian Edelstein, Researcher, University of Cape Town
Zander Venter, Spatial ecologist, The Norwegian Institute for Nature Research
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/166318
2021-08-24T12:16:48Z
2021-08-24T12:16:48Z
In ‘Rumors,’ Lizzo and Cardi B pull from the ancient Greeks, putting a new twist on an old tradition
<p>It isn’t often that a pop star releases a music video that aligns so well with <a href="https://www.bu.edu/amnesp/profile/grace-mcgowan/">my academic research</a>.</p>
<p>But that’s exactly what Lizzo did in her new song, “<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4P9XUrniiK4">Rumors</a>.” In it, she and Cardi B dress in Grecian goddess-inspired dresses, dance in front of classically inspired statuary, wear headdresses that evoke <a href="https://www.britannica.com/technology/caryatid">caryatids</a> and transform into Grecian vases. </p>
<p>They’re adding their own twist to what’s called <a href="https://www.oxfordbibliographies.com/view/document/obo-9780195399301/obo-9780195399301-0003.xml">the classical tradition</a>, a style rooted in the aesthetics of ancient Greece and Rome, and they’re only the most recent Black women artists to do so. </p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/4P9XUrniiK4?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">Lizzo and Cardi B evoke ancient Greece in the video for ‘Rumors.’</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>White supremacists wield the classics</h2>
<p>The classical tradition has been hugely influential in American society. You see it in the branding of Venus razors, named after the Roman goddess of beauty, and Nike sportswear, named for the ancient Greek goddess of victory; in the names of cities like Olympia, Washington, and Rome, Georgia; <a href="https://www.aoc.gov/explore-capitol-campus/buildings-grounds/neoclassical">in the neoclassical architecture</a> found in the nation’s capital; <a href="https://www.nationalgeographic.org/article/greek-influence-us-democracy/">and in debates</a> over democracy, republicanism and citizenship.</p>
<p>However, in the 19th century, the classical tradition started being wielded against Black people in a specific way. In particular, pro-slavery lobbyists and slavery apologists <a href="https://oxford.universitypressscholarship.com/view/10.1093/acprof:oso/9780199574674.001.0001/acprof-9780199574674">argued that the presence of slavery</a> in ancient Greece and Rome was what allowed the two empires to become pinnacles of civilization.</p>
<p>Even though ancient Greece and Rome traded with, fought against and <a href="https://theconversation.com/the-african-roots-of-swiss-design-154892">learned from</a> ancient African civilizations such as Egypt, <a href="https://www.mfa.org/exhibitions/nubia">Nubia</a> and Meroe, the presence and influence of these societies have tended to be downplayed or ignored.</p>
<p>Instead, ancient Greek and Roman aesthetics were held up as paragons of beauty and artistic sensibility. Classical statues such as the <a href="https://www.louvre.fr/en/explore/the-palace/ideal-greek-beauty">Venus de Milo</a> and the <a href="https://www.museivaticani.va/content/museivaticani/en/collezioni/musei/museo-pio-clementino/Cortile-Ottagono/apollo-del-belvedere.html">Apollo Belvedere</a> are often considered the apex of human perfection. And because marble statues from antiquity have, over time, <a href="https://hyperallergic.com/383776/why-we-need-to-start-seeing-the-classical-world-in-color/">lost their painted colors</a>, it’s influenced the widespread belief that all the deities were imagined as white.</p>
<p>For these reasons, Black women have rarely appeared in classical depictions and reproductions.</p>
<p>When they did – and especially in Western neoclassical art – it was usually in the form of mischaracterization or mockery.</p>
<p>For example, in Thomas Stothard’s 1801 engraving “<a href="https://collections.rmg.co.uk/collections/objects/254621.html">Voyage of the Sable Venus from Angola to the West Indies</a>,” he depicts a Black woman in the style of Botticelli’s “<a href="https://www.uffizi.it/en/artworks/birth-of-venus">Birth of Venus</a>” romanticizing the harrowing trauma of the slave trade’s <a href="https://www.pbs.org/wgbh/aia/part1/1p277.html">Middle Passage</a>. In the mid-19th century, <a href="https://theconversation.com/how-sarah-baartmans-hips-went-from-a-symbol-of-exploitation-to-a-source-of-empowerment-for-black-women-160063">Sarah Baartman</a>, a Black South African woman, was paraded around Europe and put on display due to her large buttocks. <a href="https://doi.org/10.1093/crj/clz008">She was derisively</a> dubbed the “Hottentot Venus.”</p>
<h2>Black artists push back</h2>
<p>At the turn of the 20th century, however, Black women started reclaiming classical deities of beauty, such as Venus. </p>
<p>Pauline Hopkins, a writer working in Boston for <a href="http://coloredamerican.org/">The Colored American Magazine</a>, played a pivotal role. A 1903 issue of the magazine published an editorial with no byline, though there’s scholarly consensus that Hopkins penned the piece. </p>
<p><a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=uc1.b3793663&view=1up&seq=495">The editorial controversially argued</a> that the models for two paragons of classical beauty had actually been enslaved Ethiopians. </p>
<p>“Authorities in the art world demonstrated that the most famous examples of classic beauty in sculpture – the Venus de Milo and the Apollo Belvedere – were chiselled from Ethiopian slave models,” Hopkins wrote. Although it is difficult to know for sure, her editorial proposes an exciting set of possibilities around how African people and civilizations influenced classical beauty standards. </p>
<p>During her time with the magazine, Hopkins also wrote several serialized novels, including “<a href="https://theconversation.com/how-black-writers-and-journalists-have-wielded-punctuation-in-their-activism-161141">Of One Blood</a>,” which was published over the course of 1902 and 1903. </p>
<p>In it, the protagonist discovers a hidden African civilization called Telassar that has retreated from the world and so was able to escape the ravages of colonialism and the trans-Atlantic slave trade. The protagonist discovers that he is the heir to Telassar and should join forces with Queen Candace to bring the country out of hiding and take its place in the world. Hopkins frequently describes the great beauty of all the women in the novel in terms of their likeness to the classical deity Venus. </p>
<p>In both the editorial and the novel, Hopkins questions the very idea that the classical tradition can be deemed “white” or “European.” She calls on her readers to consider if these aesthetics and beauty ideals were, in fact, rooted in African traditions, only to be corrupted and co-opted by white supremacists. </p>
<p>Other artists have followed Hopkins’ lead. Toni Morrison’s fiction has reworked stories from the classical tradition, including Euripedes’ “<a href="https://www.britannica.com/topic/Medea-Greek-mythology">Medea</a>” and Ovid’s “<a href="https://theconversation.com/guide-to-the-classics-ovids-metamorphoses-and-reading-rape-65316">Metamorphoses</a>.” In Morrison’s novel “<a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/117660/tar-baby-by-toni-morrison/">Tar Baby</a>,” the protagonist is a model who’s depicted as the “Copper Venus” in a magazine spread.</p>
<p>More recently, Beyoncé <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2017/07/14/arts/music/beyonce-twins-photo.html">announced the birth of her twins</a>, Rumi and Sir, by adapting Botticelli’s 1480 painting “Birth of Venus.” Meanwhile, artist <a href="https://linktr.ee/bbychakra">3rdeyechakra</a> has inserted Black female artists, such as Beyoncé, Megan Thee Stallion and Lizzo, into paintings of classical deities like Venus and Aphrodite.</p>
<p><div data-react-class="InstagramEmbed" data-react-props="{"url":"https://www.instagram.com/p/CSZ0uEUFrum","accessToken":"127105130696839|b4b75090c9688d81dfd245afe6052f20"}"></div></p>
<h2>An old tradition with a new twist</h2>
<p>Which takes me to Lizzo’s joyful and gleeful reclamation of the classical tradition in her new music video with Cardi B.</p>
<p>In a song that focuses heavily on female empowerment and body positivity, Lizzo and Cardi B deploy the visual imagery, fashion, art and architecture of the classical era, while also populating it with people and bodies that have so long been excluded.</p>
<p>Lizzo and her dancers perform their choreography atop classical columns, positioning themselves as the muses – an allusion, perhaps, <a href="https://imgix.bustle.com/nylon/18433024/origin.jpg?w=1200&h=630&fit=crop&crop=faces&fm=jpg">to the Black muses</a> in Disney’s animated film “<a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0119282/">Hercules</a>.” </p>
<p>The bodies of the statues in Lizzo’s video are not the chiseled physiques you’re accustomed to seeing in museums, while the various Grecian-style vases are painted with images of women in bondage gear, performing on poles and twerking. Lizzo and Cardi B also perform in front of statues that are deliberately centered on the buttocks. It’s an allusion not just to classical statues like the <a href="https://joyofmuseums.com/museums/europe/italy-museums/naples-museums/national-archaeological-museum-naples/venus-callipyge/">Venus Callipyge</a> – which translates to “Venus of the beautiful buttocks” – but also a playful dig at a culture <a href="https://www.law.georgetown.edu/poverty-inequality-center/wp-content/uploads/sites/14/2017/08/girlhood-interrupted.pdf">that historically has hypersexualized the bodies of Black women</a>. </p>
<p>I’d never suggest reading the comments section of any YouTube video. But with “Rumors” you don’t have to scroll for very long before coming across a heated debate around “cultural appropriation” in the music video. Some say that it’s Greek and Roman art that’s being pilfered and sullied.</p>
<p>But to me, it’s just another example of Black women trying to stake their own claim to the beauty, joy and power of this tradition. </p>
<p>When Lizzo and Cardi B touch their acrylics in a gesture reminiscent of Michaelangelo’s famous “<a href="http://www.italianrenaissance.org/michelangelo-creation-of-adam/">Creation of Adam</a>” painting on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, they’re transfigured into a Grecian vase in a flash of lightning. </p>
<p>Just like that, the centrality of Black women to the classical tradition is no longer just a rumor. </p>
<p>It’s true.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/166318/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Grace B. McGowan does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
The classical tradition has long excluded anyone who wasn’t white. But a succession of Black female artists have attempted to broaden these ossified boundaries.
Grace B. McGowan, PhD Candidate in American Studies, Boston University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/164182
2021-07-08T15:13:51Z
2021-07-08T15:13:51Z
Love Island: how women with ‘fake’ faces have been belittled throughout history
<p>After a recent episode of the British dating reality show <a href="https://www.itv.com/loveisland">Love Island</a>, Twitter buzzed with the word “fake”. In a challenge designed to test the couples’ knowledge of each other, the islanders were quizzed on everything from their partner’s favourite sex positions and turn-ons and turn-offs to which cosmetic procedures they had undergone.</p>
<p>Contestant Hugo Hammond’s repeated disparagement of women who were “fake” was read as a slight against women who chose plastic surgery. This offended several of the women, with fellow participants Faye Winter and Sharon Gaffka calling Hammond “ignorant” for not understanding why women undergo aesthetic procedures.</p>
<p>The game’s neglect of the <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/fashion/2021/mar/03/zoom-ready-male-demand-for-cosmetic-procedures-rising#:%7E:text=Amid%20news%20that%20comic%20Jimmy,for%20video%20consultations%20over%202020.&text=A%202019%20report%20from%20the,%E2%80%9D%20rather%20than%20%E2%80%9Ctucked%E2%80%9D.">growing market in men’s plastic surgery</a> (only the women were quizzed on their procedures) and the association of aesthetic surgeries with “fake” bodies and personalities isn’t surprising. Issues of gender, identity and authenticity have been relevant throughout the long history of plastic surgery.</p>
<h2>Reconstructive surgery</h2>
<p>The earliest operations akin to today’s plastic surgery focused on restoring the face and body to “normal”. This stretched from the <a href="http://journal.sciencemuseum.ac.uk/browse/issue-11/treating-facial-wounds/">neat suturing of wounds</a>, to reattachment and then full recreation of a cut-off nose. Such procedures were uncommon, and mainly used by men who had been wounded in duelling or warfare.</p>
<p>The earliest accounts of a nose being recreated from a skin flap <a href="https://ispub.com/IJPS/3/2/7839">date back to 600BC India</a>. European operations to build a new nose from a flap of skin from the forehead or cheek began in 16th-century Italy. Bolognese surgeon Gaspare Tagliacozzi published the first major <a href="https://wellcomecollection.org/works/r5e3unwm">Latin guide</a> to reconstructing the nose, lip or ear using skin from the arm in 1597, claiming the credit and biggest space in the history books.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/this-400-year-old-botched-nose-job-shows-how-little-our-feelings-about-transplants-have-changed-156774">This 400-year-old botched nose job shows how little our feelings about transplants have changed</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="Illustration of 16th-century plastic surgery on the nose." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/410340/original/file-20210708-27-15hjlk7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/410340/original/file-20210708-27-15hjlk7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=922&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/410340/original/file-20210708-27-15hjlk7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=922&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/410340/original/file-20210708-27-15hjlk7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=922&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/410340/original/file-20210708-27-15hjlk7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1159&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/410340/original/file-20210708-27-15hjlk7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1159&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/410340/original/file-20210708-27-15hjlk7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1159&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Illustration of 16th-century plastic surgery on the nose.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:16th_century_plastic_surgery_on_the_nose_Wellcome_M0013854.jpg#/media/File:Plastic_surgery_on_the_nose_-_16th_century._Wellcome_M0013856.jpg">Wellcome Collection.</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In 17th- and 18th-century Britain, this operation was associated with another kind of damaged nose: the collapsed nasal bridge of caused by syphilis. Bodily changes and augmentations that were seen as intended to hide disease were especially associated with “loose women”, out to deceive men into marrying poorly or paying for the pox (syphilis). </p>
<p>The 17th century English Poet <a href="https://poets.org/poet/robert-herrick">Robert Herrick</a> was one of many writers to describe women using padding, cosmetics, transplants and other tricks to “cheat” men. These women were “False in legs, and false in thighs; / False in breast, teeth, hair, and eyes.” </p>
<h2>The conundrum of ‘effortless’ beauty</h2>
<p>Perhaps Love Islander Aaron Francis should have landed in hotter water for naming women’s arm hair as his biggest turnoff. But between him and Hugo we see the classic women’s conundrum: change your body too much and you’re fake, but don’t show yourself too naturally either. Herrick’s contemporary, English poet <a href="https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44452/still-to-be-neat-still-to-be-dressed">Ben Jonson</a> put it bluntly. In the poem “Still to be neat, still to be dressed”, he praised women for a style of effortless “sweet neglect” that required them “still to be powdered, still perfumed” but with the “art” and labour of it carefully hidden away.</p>
<p>Rare and disparaged through these centuries, the use of skin flaps for reconstructive procedures like rhinoplasty was <a href="https://oldoperatingtheatre.com/joseph-constantine-carpue-and-the-revival-of-rhinoplasty/">revived</a> at the very end of the 18th century, as new information arrived from India. Patients included men and women whose noses had been damaged by accidents and fights, but also diseases like cancer and lupus. </p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/-wyXGl55hMk?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
</figure>
<p>Male surgeons began to compete and brag about the speed and success of operations, including the beauty of the resulting noses. Major facial procedures remained restorative up to the huge improvements made by <a href="https://collection.sciencemuseumgroup.org.uk/people/cp121917/harold-delf-gillies">Sir Harold Delf Gillies</a>, who is considered the father of modern plastic surgery, and his teams in the first world war. But aesthetic options were also increasing, with the <a href="https://www.researchgate.net/publication/342080522_History_of_Dermal_and_Subdermal_Injectable_Fillers_Before_Collagen_The_Early_Years">first facial fillers</a>— made of ingredients like fat and paraffin — appearing in the late 19th-century.</p>
<p>People make strong distinctions today between reconstructive and “normalising” surgeries, and those seen as merely “aesthetic”. These divisions carry serious implications, such as whether something is covered by the NHS. This is the case even if the operation is very similar, or even identical: breast reduction for aesthetics is usually not NHS eligible, but <a href="https://www.nhs.uk/conditions/cosmetic-procedures/breast-reduction-female/">breast reduction to help with mental health or back pain</a> often is. </p>
<p>There are also continuing levels of stigma and accusations of deception or “fakeness”, as we saw on Love Island. On the other hand, feminists, disability activists and other ethicists have raised important concerns about the normalisation of cosmetic surgeries and the <a href="https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/magazine-35380469">pressure to achieve “perfect” looks</a>. “Sweet neglect” remains a difficult line to tread.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/164182/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Emily Cock previously received postdoctoral funding from the Leverhulme Trust for for ‘Fragile Faces: Disfigurement in Britain and its Colonies (1600–1850).’. </span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Catherine Han does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
A woman’s right to use fillers and have plastic surgery was a topic of discussion on the show after a male contestant alluded that he found women who used such enhancements ‘fake’.
Emily Cock, Lecturer in Early Modern History, Cardiff University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/129547
2020-12-01T19:08:31Z
2020-12-01T19:08:31Z
Not all blackened landscapes are bad. We must learn to love the right kind
<p>The devastation wrought by last summer’s <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/australia-news/2019/dec/25/factcheck-why-australias-monster-2019-bushfires-are-unprecedented">unprecedented</a> bushfires created blackened landscapes across Australia. New life is sprouting, but with fires burning again <a href="https://www.abc.net.au/news/2020-11-29/bushfires-burn-across-nsw-cold-change-hits-sydney/12931478">in New South Wales</a> and <a href="https://www.9news.com.au/national/fraser-island-bushfire-closes-in-on-attractions-tourists-evacuated/2a8d8e82-06ef-42a4-86ea-b349ba05ab1f">Queensland</a> we have once more seen burnt land and smoke plumes.</p>
<p>The findings of the <a href="https://naturaldisaster.royalcommission.gov.au/">Royal Commission into National Natural Disaster Arrangements</a> are a reminder that we need to change our approach to bushfire management. One way of doing so is by rethinking the notion of <a href="https://www.abc.net.au/news/2020-02-19/australia-bushfires-how-heat-and-drought-created-a-tinderbox/11976134">a blackened landscape</a>, embracing the positive qualities of contained fires. </p>
<p>Learning to love blackened earth will not be easy. It involves a fundamental change in aesthetic values — thinking through prejudices often attached to the colours of black and white.</p>
<h2>‘Nice and clean’</h2>
<p>When we were conducting fieldwork with Phyllis Wiynjorroc, the senior traditional owner at Barunga, Northern Territory, in 2005 we came across some country that had been burnt off by traditional firing.</p>
<p>Phyllis commented that it was “nice and clean”. To her eyes, a blackened landscape is pristine and beautiful. </p>
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<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/our-land-is-burning-and-western-science-does-not-have-all-the-answers-100331">Our land is burning, and Western science does not have all the answers</a>
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<p>Such landscapes are valued in many parts of the world. A darkened land can be valued because it is rich in humus. <a href="https://www.springer.com/gp/book/9781402018398">Amazonian Dark Darths</a>, for instance, (also known as Indian black earth) are known for their fertility.</p>
<p>In sub-Saharan Africa, meanwhile, local people <a href="https://www.nationalgeographic.com/culture/food/the-plate/2016/06/africa-soil-farming-sustainable/">strategically enrich nutrient-poor soils</a> to produce highly productive African Dark Earth.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/317574/original/file-20200227-24664-ulx0qi.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/317574/original/file-20200227-24664-ulx0qi.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/317574/original/file-20200227-24664-ulx0qi.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/317574/original/file-20200227-24664-ulx0qi.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/317574/original/file-20200227-24664-ulx0qi.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/317574/original/file-20200227-24664-ulx0qi.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/317574/original/file-20200227-24664-ulx0qi.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Phyllis Wiynjorroc with her grandchildren Teagan and Joel at Barunga, Northern Territory.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Claire Smith</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>As others have observed, <a href="https://theconversation.com/our-land-is-burning-and-western-science-does-not-have-all-the-answers-100331">Indigenous wisdom</a> could help prevent Australian bushfires. Aboriginal cultural burning is low-intensity. Fires burn in a <a href="https://www.dpaw.wa.gov.au/management/fire/fire-and-the-environment/41-traditional-aboriginal-burning">mosaic pattern</a> (like a chessboard), allowing animals to move between areas. Afterwards, the burnt hollows of trees provide homes for selected animal species and some plants <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC5426625/">regenerate</a>.</p>
<p>Aboriginal people, anthropologists and archaeologists have called for a return to <a href="https://www.abc.net.au/news/2020-01-09/indigenous-cultural-fire-burning-method-has-benefits-experts-say/11853096">cultural burning practices</a>. Authorities also conduct controlled burning, with <a href="https://theconversation.com/the-burn-legacy-why-the-science-on-hazard-reduction-is-contested-132083">debatable sucess</a>. We need more research on these aspects of Indigenous and Western science.</p>
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<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/strength-from-perpetual-grief-how-aboriginal-people-experience-the-bushfire-crisis-129448">Strength from perpetual grief: how Aboriginal people experience the bushfire crisis</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
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<h2>Concepts of colour</h2>
<p>We see colour not only through a cultural lens but also through our own embodiment.
A white-skinned tourist once told us that the landscape after a reduction burn looked black and dirty. She was so repulsed that she planned to make representations to politicians to ban such burns. This contrasts to the aesthetics of Aboriginal land management practices.</p>
<p>Non-Indigenous people typically connect the colour <a href="https://theconversation.com/this-map-shows-what-white-europeans-associate-with-race-and-it-makes-for-uncomfortable-reading-76661">black</a> with danger and bad things, while <a href="https://theconversation.com/are-you-racist-you-may-be-without-even-knowing-it-10826">white</a> is associated with purity and good things. This is obviously not the case for Aboriginal people. </p>
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<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/languages-dont-all-have-the-same-number-of-terms-for-colors-scientists-have-a-new-theory-why-84117">Languages don't all have the same number of terms for colors – scientists have a new theory why</a>
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</em>
</p>
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<p>Many Indigenous people (including the Aboriginal author of this article) find phrases like “<a href="https://theconversation.com/what-has-australia-learned-from-black-saturday-111245">Black Saturday</a>” offensive. If the recent bushfire season had been dubbed “Australia’s White Devil”, it might have been similarly offensive to non-Indigenous people. </p>
<p>The challenge ahead will be to rethink our assumptions and create new, positive ways to think about the black colours of a burnt landscape. </p>
<h2>Aesthetics and identity</h2>
<p>An Australian identity for the 21st century will need to embrace new understandings of our landscapes. One artist who grappled with the aesthetics of <a href="https://www.ngv.vic.gov.au/explore/collection/work/27859/">bushfire landscapes</a> was Fred Williams (1927-1982). His celebrated <a href="https://www.tate.org.uk/art/artworks/williams-burnt-landscape-ii-bushfire-series-t12269">bushfire series</a> was prompted by a fire that stopped 100 metres short of his home in February 1968. This experience fundamentally altered Williams’ vision of the Australian landscape.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/319272/original/file-20200309-118890-1qyxvfd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/319272/original/file-20200309-118890-1qyxvfd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=445&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/319272/original/file-20200309-118890-1qyxvfd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=445&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/319272/original/file-20200309-118890-1qyxvfd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=445&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/319272/original/file-20200309-118890-1qyxvfd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=559&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/319272/original/file-20200309-118890-1qyxvfd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=559&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/319272/original/file-20200309-118890-1qyxvfd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=559&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Fred Williams.
After bushfire (1) 1968
gouache
57.0 x 76.6 cm (image and sheet)
National Gallery of Victoria, Melbourne
Purchased through The Art Foundation of Victoria with the assistance of the H. J. Heinz II Charitable and Family Trust, Governor, and the Utah Foundation, Fellow, 1980 (AC9-1980)
© Estate of Fred Williams</span>
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</figure>
<p>His groundbreaking artistic response was a detailed and repeated focus on burnt land that helped reshape Australian perceptions of bushfire. As writer John Schauble <a href="http://www.proceedings.com.au/tassiefire/papers_pdf/thurs_schauble.pdf">has noted,</a> the series contains depictions of “the fire itself, the burnt landscape, those dealing with a single burning tree and the fern diptych”. </p>
<p>Williams, he has written, “examines not just the forest as a whole, but the minutiae of its rebirth, depicting individual plants as well as sweeping landscapes”.</p>
<p>Like Williams, we will have to alter our appreciation of what an Australian environment looks like. </p>
<h2>Where there is smoke …</h2>
<p>Rethinking our cultural appreciation of fire as we explore links between <a href="https://www.nature.com/articles/d41586-020-00173-7">bushfires and climate change</a>, will also require a reappraisal of <a href="https://theconversation.com/smoke-from-bushfires-poses-a-health-hazard-for-all-of-us-11493">smoke</a>. </p>
<p>As David Bowman states in <a href="https://books.google.co.in/books?hl=en&lr=&id=5pQZlbzJvTkC&oi=fnd&pg=PA1&dq=info:YYfApoIykk0J:scholar.google.com&ots=Hi_AuNY9oF&sig=a-TPthFrgAAVB_Ig5y6St_Hv9iY&redir_esc=y#v=onepage&q&f=false">Australian Rainforests: Islands of Green in a Land of Fire</a>, “Living in the bush means learning to live with fire”. The gum tree naturally drops leaves and small branches. It annually sheds bark. Throughout Australia, this provides the fuel that makes fires and smoke almost inevitable. </p>
<p>There are many kinds of smoke. There is the unwelcome smoke of last fire season, which <a href="https://www.cnbc.com/2020/01/14/australian-bushfires-melbourne-covered-in-smoke-despite-cool-change.html">clouded Australian cities</a> and towns, <a href="https://theconversation.com/australias-bushfire-smoke-is-lapping-the-globe-and-the-law-is-too-lame-to-catch-it-130010">lapped the globe</a>, and was <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XUWkET3IHxo">visible from space</a>. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/315571/original/file-20200215-10985-bjsarj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/315571/original/file-20200215-10985-bjsarj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/315571/original/file-20200215-10985-bjsarj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/315571/original/file-20200215-10985-bjsarj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/315571/original/file-20200215-10985-bjsarj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/315571/original/file-20200215-10985-bjsarj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/315571/original/file-20200215-10985-bjsarj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/315571/original/file-20200215-10985-bjsarj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Ngarrindjeri Elder, Major Sumner, conducting an Australian Aboriginal smoking ceremony, part of the repatriation of ancestral human remains from the United Kingdom. 19 May, 2009.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/86624586@N00/3545144681/in/photostream/">Flickr</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">CC BY</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Then there is smoke from contained fires. Smoking ceremonies have been a part of Aboriginal cultural practices for centuries, if not millennia.
Ngarrindjeri Elder, <a href="https://www.ngarrindjeri-culture.org/major-sumner">Major Sumner</a>, uses <a href="https://www.abc.net.au/news/2009-05-12/major-sumner-a-ngarrindjeri-elder-takes-part-in-a/1681466">smoke</a> as part of the ceremonies associated with the repatriation of human remains. Smoke may be used in Welcome to Country ceremonies and at the opening of <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LyAM9EbHRaQ">Aboriginal Studies Centres</a>. </p>
<p>On Phyllis Wiynjorroc’s lands, Aboriginal women use smoke from burning selected leaves to protect newborn babies. Research has shown that traditional smoking techniques can produce smoke with <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S0378874114003547?via%3Dihub">significant antimicrobial effects</a>. </p>
<h2>Noticing</h2>
<p>Monitoring when the landscape around us is blackened through the right kind of burning will help us become more aware of (and comfortable with) regular burning practices. We will also notice when such burning is needed.</p>
<p>How we interpret colour is <a href="https://books.google.com.au/books?id=8WGADAAAQBAJ&pg=PA117&lpg=PA117&dq=negative+conceptualisations+of+the+colour+black&source=bl&ots=q_de3sg0Z5&sig=ACfU3U2H9BHvs7nKWuPJPRAM7JsInSdazg&hl=en&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwis6OS4zLXqAhU2xzgGHT4eBH8Q6AEwDHoECAgQAQ#v=onepage&q=negative%20conceptualisations%20of%20the%20colour%20black&f=false">culturally conditioned</a> and <a href="https://books.google.com.au/books?hl=en&lr=&id=mIrf1uUTNCYC&oi=fnd&pg=PA1&dq=unconscious+connotations+of+the+color+black&ots=VUgujOvl1i&sig=evDQuXHC8X9kghXRWr7qkJlw44Y#v=onepage&q=unconscious%20connotations%20of%20the%20color%20black&f=false">often unconscious</a>. Negative connotations of the colour black have <a href="https://psycnet.apa.org/record/1966-07379-001">long been challenged</a>. </p>
<p>Clearly, there is more than one form of blackened landscape. But if we can learn to love the right kind, we might be able to limit our experience of the other.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/129547/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Pristine and beautiful or black and dirty? As bushfires become more frequent and we look to Indigenous fire control practices, it is time to reconsider our attitudes to burnt earth.
Claire Smith, Professor of Archaeology, College of Humanities, Arts and Social Sciences, Flinders University
Gary Jackson, Research Associate in Archaeology, Flinders University
Kellie Pollard, Research lecturer, Charles Darwin University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/143996
2020-08-09T20:08:38Z
2020-08-09T20:08:38Z
Pastel colours and serif fonts: is Annastacia Palaszczuk trying to be an Instagram influencer?
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/351696/original/file-20200807-16-1b4e3u0.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=718%2C173%2C2221%2C1616&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://twitter.com/AnnastaciaMP">@AnnastaciaMP/Twitter</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>You might have scrolled right by Annastacia Palaszczuk’s recent quote posts if you saw them on Instagram – just another lifestyle influencer posting a “deep” quote – but when she (or her media team) reposted them to Twitter they stood out as belonging to another platform. </p>
<p>Blush pink, serif fonts, minimalist art – this isn’t what we expect to see on a politician’s feed. Instead, it all screams “Insta”.</p>
<p>But what is an Instagram aesthetic – and what does it do for Palaszczuk in the midst of a public health crisis, and the lead-up to an election?</p>
<h2>Parsing Insta aesthetics</h2>
<p>On Wednesday, Palaszczuk posted an crisp image above across her social feeds, including <a href="https://twitter.com/AnnastaciaMP/status/1290793563031183363">Twitter</a>, <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/CDfG0Jonztq/">Instagram</a> and <a href="https://www.facebook.com/annastaciamp/photos/a.523591701005345/3389997541031399/?type=3&theater">Facebook</a>: a blush-pink background with the text “I will do everything I can to keep Queenslanders safe”. </p>
<p>Above, line art of Queensland’s borders; below, Palaszczuk’s name and “Premier of Queensland”, bolded and in all-caps.</p>
<p><div data-react-class="InstagramEmbed" data-react-props="{"url":"https://www.instagram.com/p/CDfG0Jonztq","accessToken":"127105130696839|b4b75090c9688d81dfd245afe6052f20"}"></div></p>
<p>This post – the latest in a series of three quotes posted since July 24 - leaps out from a grid that mixes up busy but low-contrast infographics with the vivid colours of the Queensland outdoors. </p>
<p>As readers, we recognise this form instantly: this is an <a href="https://www.wired.co.uk/article/inspirational-quote-industry">inspirational Insta quote</a>. We know that because specific visual elements work together to help us understand and categorise the image.</p>
<p>First up, the background colour. A post on July 31 used duck-egg blue; this latest is a soft blush pink, maybe not quite <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/shortcuts/2017/mar/22/millennial-pink-is-the-colour-of-now-but-what-exactly-is-it">millennial pink</a>, but definitely in that ballpark. </p>
<p>The pink is a muted Queensland maroon used across the account, and the flat texture makes it stand out from the busier backgrounds on her illustrated announcements.</p>
<p>Then there’s the font choices. <a href="https://www.fonts.com/content/learning/fontology/level-1/type-anatomy/serif-vs-sans-for-text-in-print">Serif fonts</a> read formal, literary – and as some users have commented after Instagram <a href="https://www.socialmediatoday.com/news/instagram-is-adding-some-new-font-types-for-stories/577154/">added</a> serif fonts to Stories this week, “pretty”. </p>
<p>Using a serif font for the quote makes it seem like something we’d read in a book, elevating its importance. The blocky serif font for the credit reads strong, powerful and modern, as does the use of line art to replace the silhouette of Queensland used in earlier posts.</p>
<p>The vertical and horizontal centre alignment is also characteristic of Insta-inspiration quotes, which work best when they’re designed to transition seamlessly across the platform: cropped to a square for the grid and to a vertical rectangle for Stories.</p>
<p><div data-react-class="Tweet" data-react-props="{"tweetId":"1286567291505659904"}"></div></p>
<p>When visual elements like text or icons are aligned to the edges of an image in one format, they look wrong when the edges move – like when you extend a square pic vertically to fill a phone screen. </p>
<p>This is what makes an earlier quote post look like it belongs on Twitter, not Instagram: the Queensland silhouette sits in the top right corner of <a href="https://twitter.com/AnnastaciaMP/status/1286567291505659904">the horizontal crop</a> on the Twitter timeline, but floats when the image is <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/CDBE-kWALzQ/">extended to a square</a> on Instagram.</p>
<p>Embracing these aesthetics softens a strong message, helping Palaszczuk navigate the <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2019/02/11/us/politics/sexism-double-standard-2020.html">double standards</a> applied to women in leadership. </p>
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<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/expect-sexism-a-gender-politics-expert-reads-julia-gillards-women-and-leadership-142725">'Expect sexism': a gender politics expert reads Julia Gillard's Women and Leadership</a>
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<p>The strong, direct phrasing foregrounds Palaszczuk’s leadership and commitment to Queensland’s security, while the feminine influencer layout helps dodge misogynist accusations of unladylike behaviour.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="Screenshot of an instagram grid" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/351694/original/file-20200807-22-pjuesr.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/351694/original/file-20200807-22-pjuesr.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=606&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/351694/original/file-20200807-22-pjuesr.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=606&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/351694/original/file-20200807-22-pjuesr.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=606&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/351694/original/file-20200807-22-pjuesr.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=762&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/351694/original/file-20200807-22-pjuesr.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=762&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/351694/original/file-20200807-22-pjuesr.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=762&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Instagram therapist Lisa Olivera uses a mix of quotes and photographs on her Instagram.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.instagram.com/lisaoliveratherapy/">@lisaoliveratherapy/Instagram</a></span>
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<h2>Genre tells us how to read</h2>
<p>These design choices are all examples of genre conventions: visual and written clues that help us know how to read and understand a message. </p>
<p>For politicians, committing 100% to social media genre conventions is a risky game. </p>
<p>Done well, you’re <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2019/feb/12/alexandria-ocasio-cortez-twitter-social-media">Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez</a>, serving up voter education as she cooks mac and cheese, or sharing her notes for her iconic response to Ted Yoho. </p>
<p><div data-react-class="Tweet" data-react-props="{"tweetId":"1041386969962635264"}"></div></p>
<p>Ocasio-Cortez uses a different, less obviously <a href="https://www.theatlantic.com/technology/archive/2019/04/influencers-are-abandoning-instagram-look/587803/">curated genre</a> - it works because it feels authentic, relatable and consistent.</p>
<p>Miss the mark and risk your mentions clogging with Steve Buscemi gifs: “<a href="https://www.theverge.com/2017/7/13/15966094/30-rock-buscemi-how-do-you-do-fellow-kids-meme-kill-it-please">How do you do, fellow kids</a>?” So why risk it?</p>
<p>Palaszczuk’s quote posts don’t feel <a href="https://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=on%20brand">#OnBrand</a> amidst the outdoor photo ops, illustrated announcements and daily infographics that characterise her grid. </p>
<p>But by playing on readers’ implicit understanding of Instagram genres, they position her as a social leader.</p>
<p>As readers, we recognise that a flat pastel background, a prominent quote and maybe some minimal art signals a particular genre. </p>
<p><div data-react-class="InstagramEmbed" data-react-props="{"url":"https://www.instagram.com/p/CDTHfHuHUEr","accessToken":"127105130696839|b4b75090c9688d81dfd245afe6052f20"}"></div></p>
<p>When we see a post go by on our timelines that looks like that, our understanding of genre conventions primes us to expect an inspirational quote from an historic figure – a <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/CA4iMVlnKxj/">Martin Luther King</a>, a <a href="https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-3950898/Prince-Harry-s-girlfriend-Meghan-Markle-breaks-social-media-silence-posts-inspirational-Gandhi-quote-thanks-friends-support.html">Gandhi</a>, an <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/CDGy16Ss_7y/">Audre Lorde</a> – and then signals to us that Palaszczuk belongs in that list: a world leader whose words can guide us in an unprecedented public health crisis.</p>
<p>The text says: “I will do everything I can to keep Queenslanders safe”; the subtext says: wouldn’t you vote for someone like me in October?</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/143996/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Beck Wise does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Pastel colours and serif fonts: is Annastacia Palaszczuk trying to be an Instagram influencer?
Beck Wise, Lecturer in Professional Writing, The University of Queensland
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/136168
2020-05-15T12:12:32Z
2020-05-15T12:12:32Z
Solar farms, power stations and water treatment plants can be attractions instead of eyesores
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/334817/original/file-20200513-156651-13qpfmc.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C0%2C1024%2C843&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Infrastructure as art: Jacob van Ruisdael, 'Windmill at Wijk bij Duurstede,' c. 1670. </span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://hart.amsterdam/collectie/object/amcollect/38744">Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Amid the economic and social fallout of the COVID-19 pandemic, many people see the process of restarting society as a chance to do things differently. Some organizations are calling for big investments in infrastructure, both to <a href="https://www.spglobal.com/en/research-insights/featured/infrastructure-productivity-boost-coronavirus">generate jobs</a> and to promote <a href="https://www.weforum.org/agenda/2020/03/a-green-reboot-after-the-pandemic/">green economic growth</a>. </p>
<p>But projects that sound worthy in the abstract can meet stiff resistance when it’s time to break ground locally. For example, in 2012 I served on a committee tasked with choosing an energy provider to build a solar farm on an old landfill in the progressive town of Amherst, Massachusetts. Neighbors, who were not consulted, fought to preserve a bucolic meadow that had grown up on the landfill site. After several lawsuits, the project died an unhappy death.</p>
<p>This debacle got me thinking. As an <a href="https://scholar.google.com/citations?user=K9EF21oAAAAJ&hl=en">architectural historian</a>, I knew that Americans had not always been so disconnected from facilities that produced necessities like food, energy and clean water. My new book, “<a href="https://www.bloomsbury.com/us/landscape-and-infrastructure-9781350071094/">Landscape and Infrastructure: Re-Imagining the Pastoral Paradigm for the 21st Century</a>,” explores how Western views of the systems that sustain society have evolved. It also highlights contemporary projects that successfully marry infrastructure and community into places where people want to be.</p>
<h2>Art objects and tourist attractions</h2>
<p>In European landscape paintings from the 17th and 18th centuries, such as <a href="https://www.nationalgallery.org.uk/artists/jacob-van-ruisdael">Jacob Ruisdael’s Dutch landscapes</a>, windmills compete with church spires for prominence on the skyline. This wasn’t just an aesthetic choice. Painters focused on windmills because they generated wealth and prosperity.</p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/334805/original/file-20200513-156665-uw4kqo.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/334805/original/file-20200513-156665-uw4kqo.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/334805/original/file-20200513-156665-uw4kqo.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/334805/original/file-20200513-156665-uw4kqo.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/334805/original/file-20200513-156665-uw4kqo.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/334805/original/file-20200513-156665-uw4kqo.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/334805/original/file-20200513-156665-uw4kqo.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/334805/original/file-20200513-156665-uw4kqo.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The ha-ha in front of Heaton Hall, Heaton Park, Manchester, U.K.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/9/9c/Heaton_Hall_Ha-Ha_%28filtered%29.JPG">Richerman/English Wikipedia</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/">CC BY-SA</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Classic English landscape gardens include a feature called <a href="https://www.nationaltrust.org.uk/features/what-is-a-ha-ha">a ha-ha</a> – a grassy trench running across a lawn, reinforced by a sunken wall that was invisible from the main house. This created a view of what looked like unbroken lawn, grazed by sheep and cattle – key sources of wealth and prosperity – while separating visitors from the animals and their waste.</p>
<p>In the 19th and 20th centuries a handful of architects and artists wrangled with weaving infrastructure and nature together. Frederick Graff’s 1823 <a href="https://www.visitphilly.com/things-to-do/attractions/water-works-restaurant-and-lounge/">Fairmount Water Works</a> protected Philadelphia’s water supply and drew hordes of visitors to admire its Neo-Palladian architecture and landscape park along the Schuylkill River. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/334816/original/file-20200513-156641-seia91.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/334816/original/file-20200513-156641-seia91.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/334816/original/file-20200513-156641-seia91.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=409&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/334816/original/file-20200513-156641-seia91.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=409&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/334816/original/file-20200513-156641-seia91.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=409&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/334816/original/file-20200513-156641-seia91.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=514&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/334816/original/file-20200513-156641-seia91.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=514&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/334816/original/file-20200513-156641-seia91.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=514&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Thomas Doughty, ‘View of the Fairmount Waterworks, Philadelphia, from the West Bank of the Schuylkill River,’ 1826.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.philamuseum.org/collections/permanent/343835.html?mulR=64047836%7C6">Philadelphia Museum of Art</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>And in the 1930s Frank Lloyd Wright envisioned a utopian community called <a href="https://franklloydwright.org/revisiting-frank-lloyd-wrights-vision-broadacre-city/">Broadacre City</a> – his Depression-era answer to urban planning. This project, which was never built at scale, wove together gardens, industry and residences into what he called a <a href="https://99percentinvisible.org/episode/usonia-the-beautiful/">Usonian society</a> – one that offered Americans deeper connections with nature and productivity. </p>
<h2>Going industrial</h2>
<p>Yet as societies industrialized, artists and landscape architects began to downplay or separate industry and infrastructure from their views of nature. People came to understand nature as something unspoiled and separate from modern communities – a view that still dominates today.</p>
<p>As cities and suburbs expanded in the 19th and 20th centuries, so did power stations, water treatment plants and waste facilities. Increasingly, these structures were built on the industrial fringes of metropolitan areas, out of sight and out of mind. Often they were located in underserved communities that lacked the political clout to object. </p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/329536/original/file-20200421-82654-17b5ujt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/329536/original/file-20200421-82654-17b5ujt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/329536/original/file-20200421-82654-17b5ujt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/329536/original/file-20200421-82654-17b5ujt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/329536/original/file-20200421-82654-17b5ujt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/329536/original/file-20200421-82654-17b5ujt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/329536/original/file-20200421-82654-17b5ujt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/329536/original/file-20200421-82654-17b5ujt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A solar farm in Hadley, Massachusetts, that produces renewable electricity but does nothing for the land it sits on.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Margaret Vickery</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Even renewable energy systems, for all of their green cachet, often perpetuate this destructive tradition. Many solar farms across the U.S. are lifeless slabs encircled by chain link fences, taking up land and habitat. For most of us, the idea that infrastructure can be inviting and aesthetic seems contradictory.</p>
<h2>Productive and attractive</h2>
<p>What’s the alternative? In my book I highlight recent infrastructure projects whose creative teams included artists, architects or landscape architects and invited community input. These facilities don’t just generate electricity or process waste: They also offer recreation and education, and connect visitors to the sources of their energy and drinking water.</p>
<p>Hampden, Connecticut’s <a href="https://sah-archipedia.org/buildings/CT-01-009-0098">water filtration plant</a>, completed in 2005, is one such ecological and aesthetic asset. The structure, which resembles an inverted silver teardrop, emerges from a landscape carefully designed to mimic the filtering processes that happen within the building. Paths and ponds around the site provide recreation, education and wildlife habitat. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/335141/original/file-20200514-77235-1ro2zib.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/335141/original/file-20200514-77235-1ro2zib.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/335141/original/file-20200514-77235-1ro2zib.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=338&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/335141/original/file-20200514-77235-1ro2zib.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=338&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/335141/original/file-20200514-77235-1ro2zib.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=338&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/335141/original/file-20200514-77235-1ro2zib.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/335141/original/file-20200514-77235-1ro2zib.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/335141/original/file-20200514-77235-1ro2zib.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Lake Whitney Water Purification Plant, Hamden, Connecticut, 2005. Steven Holl Architects, Michael van Valkenburgh Landscape Architects.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Elizabeth Felicella</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The <a href="http://www.hooddesignstudio.com/solarstrand">Solar Strand</a> at the University at Buffalo, New York, designed in 2012, is a dramatic contrast to fields of solar panels arranged in unbroken rows. Laid out like a strand of DNA, irregular placement of arrays creates breakout spaces for outdoor classrooms. Paths meander through, wildflowers bloom and rabbits graze. It is a place of learning and recreation that showcases the school’s commitment to clean energy. </p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/-7nI98b1R8I?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">Landscape architect Walter Hood describes his concept for the UB Solar Strand.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Copenhagen’s <a href="http://www.volund.dk/Waste_to_Energy/References/ARC_Amager_Bakke_Copenhagen">Amager Bakke</a> waste-to-energy plant, completed in 2019, converts trash to electricity and provides an <a href="https://archinect.com/news/article/150162866/big-s-waste-to-energy-ski-slope-amager-bakke-is-now-open">artificial ski slope</a> and climbing walls for visitors who come to recycle their washing machines, paper and plastics. The ski track on the plant’s sloping roof is bordered by green plantings that spread seeds across the surrounding landscape. Waste-to-energy plants are <a href="https://theconversation.com/garbage-in-garbage-out-incinerating-trash-is-not-an-effective-way-to-protect-the-climate-or-reduce-waste-84182">highly unpopular in many places</a>, but developers built a new apartment complex near Amager Bakke to take advantage of the recreational opportunities it offers.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/335144/original/file-20200514-77239-ms84yq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/335144/original/file-20200514-77239-ms84yq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/335144/original/file-20200514-77239-ms84yq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=309&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/335144/original/file-20200514-77239-ms84yq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=309&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/335144/original/file-20200514-77239-ms84yq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=309&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/335144/original/file-20200514-77239-ms84yq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=388&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/335144/original/file-20200514-77239-ms84yq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=388&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/335144/original/file-20200514-77239-ms84yq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=388&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">On the sloping roof of the Amager Bakke Waste to Energy Plant, Copenhagen, 2018 (artist’s rendition).</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">© SLA Landscape Architects</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The <a href="https://www.cfmoller.com/p/Energy-Climate-and-Environmental-Park-i3034.html#">Solrøgård Energy, Climate and Environmental Park</a>, opened in 2019 in Hillerød, Denmark, is home to a recycling center, geothermal energy system and state-of-the-art <a href="https://www.designraid.net/11126/solrodgard-water-treatment-plant-by-henning-larsen-architects/">wastewater treatment plant</a>. The plant features two buildings, bifurcated by rainwater gardens and flowering trees, tucked within the landscape. <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uHj3kA2Ay_E&feature=youtu.be">Paths lead over their grassy roofs</a>, and large windows offer views of the treatment processes taking place inside. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/335146/original/file-20200514-77255-ayr0ps.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/335146/original/file-20200514-77255-ayr0ps.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/335146/original/file-20200514-77255-ayr0ps.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/335146/original/file-20200514-77255-ayr0ps.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/335146/original/file-20200514-77255-ayr0ps.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/335146/original/file-20200514-77255-ayr0ps.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/335146/original/file-20200514-77255-ayr0ps.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/335146/original/file-20200514-77255-ayr0ps.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Hillerød Renseanlaeg Water Treatment Plant, 2019.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">© Henning Larsen Architects A/S/</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>All of these facilities involve the surrounding community, educate the public and include nature and the landscape. Such creative approaches could have avoided the bitter dispute Amherst experienced in 2012. </p>
<p>Projects like these demonstrate that infrastructure can do more than provide energy and water: It can also create aesthetically welcoming spaces for society. As U.S. leaders consider how to restart the economy, I believe they should consider investing in projects that are not only productive, but enhance and revitalize the communities around them. </p>
<p>[<em>Insight, in your inbox each day.</em> <a href="https://theconversation.com/us/newsletters?utm_source=TCUS&utm_medium=inline-link&utm_campaign=newsletter-text&utm_content=insight">You can get it with The Conversation’s email newsletter</a>.]</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/136168/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Meg Vickery receives funding from the University of Massachusetts Amherst for research. </span></em></p>
Are facilities that produce necessities like energy and clean water doomed to be ugly? Not when artists and landscape architects help design them.
Margaret Birney Vickery, Lecturer in Art History, UMass Amherst
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/136484
2020-05-06T12:18:55Z
2020-05-06T12:18:55Z
Yes, websites really are starting to look more similar
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/332845/original/file-20200505-83730-x6srkr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=7%2C0%2C5114%2C3409&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">There's a creeping conformity taking place on the web.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/photo/rooftops-in-suburban-development-colorado-springs-royalty-free-image/1143351671?adppopup=true">Mint Images via Getty Images</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Over the past few years, <a href="https://medium.com/s/story/on-the-visual-weariness-of-the-web-8af1c969ce73">articles</a> and <a href="https://www.friday.ie/blog/why-do-all-websites-look-the-same/">blog posts</a> have started to ask some version of the same question: “<a href="https://bigtuna.com/why-do-all-websites-look-the-same/">Why are all websites starting to look the same?</a>”</p>
<p><a href="http://www.novolume.co.uk/blog/all-websites-look-the-same/">These posts</a> usually point out some common design elements, from large images with superimposed text, to <a href="https://uxplanet.org/the-ultimate-guide-to-the-hamburger-menu-and-its-alternatives-e2da8dc7f1db">hamburger menus</a>, which are those three horizontal lines that, when clicked, reveal a list of page options to choose from.</p>
<p>My colleagues Bardia Doosti, David Crandall, Norman Su and I were studying the <a href="http://vision.soic.indiana.edu/papers/webevolution2017chi.pdf">history of the web</a> when we started to notice these posts cropping up. None of the authors had done any sort of empirical study, though. It was more of a hunch they had.</p>
<p>We decided to investigate the claim to see if there were any truth to the notion that websites are starting to look the same and, if so, explore why this has been happening. So we ran <a href="http://vision.soic.indiana.edu/web-project/">a series of data mining studies</a> that scrutinized nearly 200,000 images across 10,000 websites.</p>
<h2>How do you even measure similarity?</h2>
<p>It’s virtually impossible to study the entire internet; <a href="https://news.netcraft.com/archives/2020/01/21/january-2020-web-server-survey.html">there are over a billion websites</a>, with many times as many webpages. Since there’s no list of them all to choose from, performing a random sample of the internet is off the table. Even if it were possible, most people only see a tiny fraction of those websites regularly, so a random sample may not even capture the internet that most people experience.</p>
<p>We ended up using the websites of <a href="https://www.investopedia.com/terms/r/russell_1000index.asp">the Russell 1000</a>, the top U.S. businesses by market capitalization, which we hoped would be representative of trends in mainstream, corporate web design. We also studied two other sets of sites, one with Alexa’s 500 most trafficked sites, and another with sites nominated for <a href="https://www.webbyawards.com/">Webby Awards</a>.</p>
<p>Because we were interested in the visual elements of these websites, as data, we used images of their web pages from <a href="https://archive.org/">the Internet Archive</a>, which regularly preserves websites. And since we wanted to gather quantitative data comparing millions of website pairs, we needed to automate the analysis process.</p>
<p>To do that, we had to settle on a definition of “similarity” that we could measure automatically. We investigated both specific attributes like color and layout, as well as attributes learned automatically from data using artificial intelligence.</p>
<p>For the color and layout attributes, we measured how many pixel-by-pixel edits we would have to make to transform the color scheme or page structure of one website into another. For the AI-generated attributes, we trained a machine learning model to classify images based on which website they came from and measure the attributes the model learned. <a href="http://homes.sice.indiana.edu/bdoosti/Papers/webdesign/p329-doosti.pdf">Our previous work</a> indicates that this does a reasonably good job at measuring stylistic similarity, but it’s very difficult for humans to understand what attributes the model focused on.</p>
<h2>How has the internet changed?</h2>
<p>We found that across all three metrics – color, layout and AI-generated attributes – the average differences between websites peaked between 2008 and 2010 and then decreased between 2010 and 2016. Layout differences decreased the most, declining over 30% in that time frame.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/329454/original/file-20200421-82714-2vu9rd.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/329454/original/file-20200421-82714-2vu9rd.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/329454/original/file-20200421-82714-2vu9rd.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=263&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/329454/original/file-20200421-82714-2vu9rd.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=263&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/329454/original/file-20200421-82714-2vu9rd.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=263&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/329454/original/file-20200421-82714-2vu9rd.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=330&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/329454/original/file-20200421-82714-2vu9rd.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=330&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/329454/original/file-20200421-82714-2vu9rd.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=330&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The graph shows website similarity of companies in the Russell 1000. Lower values mean that the sites studied were more similar, on average.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Sam Goree</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>These findings confirm the suspicions of web design bloggers that websites are becoming more similar. After showing this trend, we wanted to study our data to see what kinds of specific changes were causing it.</p>
<p>You might think that these sites are simply copying each other’s code, but code similarity has actually significantly decreased over time. However, the use of software libraries has increased a lot.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/329455/original/file-20200421-82645-ey0sgs.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/329455/original/file-20200421-82645-ey0sgs.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/329455/original/file-20200421-82645-ey0sgs.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=238&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/329455/original/file-20200421-82645-ey0sgs.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=238&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/329455/original/file-20200421-82645-ey0sgs.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=238&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/329455/original/file-20200421-82645-ey0sgs.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=299&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/329455/original/file-20200421-82645-ey0sgs.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=299&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/329455/original/file-20200421-82645-ey0sgs.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=299&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The graph on the left shows a decline in code similarity among Russell 1000 websites, while the graph on the right indicates an increase in library overlap.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Sam Goree</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Libraries feature collections of generic code for common tasks, like resizing a page for mobile devices or making a hamburger menu slide in and out. We looked at which sites had lots of libraries in common and how similar they looked. Sites built with certain libraries – Bootstrap, FontAwesome and JQuery UI – tended to look much more similar to each other. This could be because these libraries control page layout and have commonly used default options. Sites that used other libraries, like SWFObject and JQuery Tools, tended look much different, and that might be due to that fact that those libraries allow for more complex, customized pages.</p>
<p>The changes of websites from 2005 to 2016 illustrate what’s happening.</p>
<p>Sites with average similarity scores in 2005 tended to look less similar than those with average similarity scores in 2016.</p>
<p>For example, in 2005, Webshots.com and Yum.com were considered relatively similar, but had somewhat different color schemes and very different layouts. While they both mostly use white, blue and black, the site on the right has a blue background.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/332794/original/file-20200505-83740-rkjqe6.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/332794/original/file-20200505-83740-rkjqe6.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/332794/original/file-20200505-83740-rkjqe6.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=277&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/332794/original/file-20200505-83740-rkjqe6.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=277&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/332794/original/file-20200505-83740-rkjqe6.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=277&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/332794/original/file-20200505-83740-rkjqe6.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=348&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/332794/original/file-20200505-83740-rkjqe6.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=348&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/332794/original/file-20200505-83740-rkjqe6.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=348&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Screenshots from 2006 of Webshots.com and Yum.com.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Sam Goree</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Two 2016 sites, Xfinity.com and Gilt.com, on the other hand, are even more similar: They both have a menu bar on the top and are primarily white and black with images. These pages have much less text and make better use of the higher resolution monitors that exist now.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/332836/original/file-20200505-83745-nl06nz.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/332836/original/file-20200505-83745-nl06nz.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/332836/original/file-20200505-83745-nl06nz.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=277&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/332836/original/file-20200505-83745-nl06nz.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=277&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/332836/original/file-20200505-83745-nl06nz.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=277&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/332836/original/file-20200505-83745-nl06nz.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=348&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/332836/original/file-20200505-83745-nl06nz.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=348&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/332836/original/file-20200505-83745-nl06nz.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=348&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Screenshots from 2016 of Xfinity.com and Gilt.com.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Sam Goree</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Is conformity healthy?</h2>
<p>What should be made of this creeping conformity?</p>
<p>On the one hand, adhering to trends is totally normal in other realms of design, like fashion or architecture. And if designs are becoming more similar because they’re using the same libraries, that means they’re likely becoming more accessible to the visually impaired, since popular libraries are <a href="https://darekkay.com/blog/accessible-ui-frameworks/">generally better at conforming to accessibility standards</a> than individual developers. They’re also more user-friendly, since new visitors won’t have to spend as much time learning how to navigate the site’s pages.</p>
<p>On the other hand, the internet is a shared cultural artifact, and its distributed, decentralized nature is what makes it unique. As home pages and fully customizable platforms like NeoPets and MySpace fade into memory, web design may lose much of its power as a form of creative expression. The Mozilla Foundation <a href="https://internethealthreport.org/2018/">has argued</a> that consolidation is bad for the “health” of the internet, and the aesthetics of the web could be seen as one element of its well-being.</p>
<p>And if sites are looking more similar because many people are using the same libraries, the large tech companies who maintain those libraries may be gaining a disproportionate power over the visual aesthetics of the internet. While publishing libraries that anyone can use is likely a net benefit for the web over keeping code secret, big tech companies’ design principles are not necessarily right for every site.</p>
<p>This outsize power is part a larger story of consolidation in the tech industry – one that certainly <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2020/05/01/opinion/tech-companies-coronavirus.html">could be a cause for concern</a>. We believe aesthetic consolidation should be critically examined as well.</p>
<p><em>Bardia Doosti, David Crandall and Norman Su contributed to this article.</em></p>
<p>[<em>Like what you’ve read? Want more?</em> <a href="https://theconversation.com/us/newsletters?utm_source=TCUS&utm_medium=inline-link&utm_campaign=newsletter-text&utm_content=likethis">Sign up for The Conversation’s daily newsletter</a>.]</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/136484/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Sam Goree does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Design bloggers have long had creeping suspicion of a more monolithic web, so a team of researchers decided to analyze the aesthetics of nearly 10,000 websites.
Sam Goree, PhD Student in Informatics, Indiana University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/126458
2019-11-13T09:22:56Z
2019-11-13T09:22:56Z
The Joker to Guy Fawkes: why protesters around the world are wearing the same masks
<p>From Hong Kong to Chile and from Lebanon to Iraq, people around the world are taking to the streets in protest against their leaders. Across these myriad different protest movements – with their different contexts, histories and goals – people are wearing the same masks. The grinning faces of Guy Fawkes from the film <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2019/11/05/opinion/guy-fawkes-day-v-for-vendetta.html">V for Vendetta</a> and of <a href="https://edition.cnn.com/2019/11/03/world/joker-global-protests-trnd/index.html">the Joker</a> have become ubiquitous. But why?</p>
<p>A mask is a form of self-presentation, it is the face we choose to show to others. Masks have been used by humans for millennia for a variety of purposes from rituals to theatrical performances in order to entertain, to protect and to disguise. </p>
<p>Protesters have long used masks, from demonstrations against the invasion of Iraq to protests against the World Trade Organisation summits in the 1990s. They have a communicative and performative power to help protesters make demands, raise awareness and offer a degree of protection. </p>
<p>A mask is useful in authoritarian regimes, providing a degree of anonymity for those taking to the streets. Authorities in Hong Kong banned the <a href="https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-asia-china-49931598">use of masks in early October</a>, arguing that they nullify the facial recognition technology used to identify and prosecute protesters. This led protesters to engage in creative ways to subvert the law including using <a href="https://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/asia/hong-kong-protests-mask-ban-china-face-covering-hairstyle-a9145181.html">hair to disguise their faces</a>.</p>
<h2>Becoming someone else</h2>
<p>But as well as giving people anonymity, masks have a transformative quality for the person wearing them. They afford people the opportunity to be braver, stronger and less acquiescent in the face of political power. When worn by protesters, masks can encourage people to do something extraordinary, to take to the streets in order to challenge those in power, to render themselves visible and vulnerable alongside others doing the same. </p>
<p>When we wear a mask we become someone else – and so they help to protect and embolden the individual. But behind the mask are faces and bodies, made of flesh – and acutely vulnerable. In recent weeks, people have been shot in <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/video/world/americas/100000006795557/chile-protesters-shot-eye.html">Chile</a>, <a href="https://theconversation.com/violent-crackdown-against-iraq-protests-exposes-fallacy-of-the-countrys-democracy-124830">Iraq</a> and <a href="https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-asia-50370715">Hong Kong</a>. A mask offers little meaningful protection against state violence. </p>
<p>Part of the appeal of masks to protesters is that they are relatively easy to make. the Joker mask requires a few simple colours, five minutes of face painting, and a relatively steady hand. Protest movements over the past ten years, from Sao Paolo to Madrid, have possessed a creative and handmade quality as protesters seek to showcase their authenticity. This handmade quality demonstrates that movements are from the grassroots and a reaction against the political elite who occupy grandiose buildings in the capital. </p>
<p>The <a href="https://theconversation.com/the-impersonal-politics-of-the-guy-fawkes-mask-51091">Guy Fawkes mask popularised by the hacker collective Anonymous</a> and the Occupy movements has become synonymous with 21st-century protest. Anytime a protest springs up, there is someone selling mass-produced versions of these masks, paradoxically undermining the critique of neoliberal capitalism articulated by both Anonymous and Occupy. The mask has become an anti-establishment trope wielded by ordinary people to register their dissatisfaction with the ideas and policies of the political elite. </p>
<p>Ultimately, protests are struggles to be seen and heard. The use of cultural artefacts and symbols such as the distinctive red and white hood and cloak from <a href="https://theconversation.com/why-women-are-dressing-up-as-margaret-atwoods-handmaids-80433">Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale</a> help people to speak up and speak out. Masks are also a way to foster identity with others and communicate strength against a defined foe. </p>
<h2>Aesthetics of protest</h2>
<p>My own ongoing research has focused on the <a href="https://www.aestheticsofprotest.com/">aesthetics of protest</a>: elements such as masks, use of colour, art, symbols, slogans, clothes, graffiti and objects that comprise a material and performative quality which is often <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/14742837.2018.1561259">captured in photos and videos and shared across media platforms</a>. The mainstream media tends to focus on dramatic and carnivalesque imagery, knowing this generates attention. Protesters play along, understanding that this attention is important if the mobilisation is not to fizzle out. Masks help with this media exposure, ensuring that the ideas of the protesters are sustained a while longer. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/from-billboards-to-twitter-why-the-aesthetics-of-protest-matters-more-today-97629">From billboards to Twitter, why the aesthetics of protest matters more today</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>Masks also help protesters to show solidarity with one another, and the mask becomes a common language to register dissent. Even though protesters in Chile, Iraq and Lebanon have very different objectives, be that fighting corruption or challenging unjust policies, they have painted their faces like the Joker for the same purpose: to show that those who are abused, oppressed and ignored are no longer passively accepting their lot. </p>
<p>Due to the film’s global release and the <a href="https://theconversation.com/joker-makes-for-uncomfortable-viewing-it-shows-how-society-creates-extremists-124832">narrative arc</a> of its main character Arthur Fleck, the Joker mask has rapidly emerged as a symbol of the subaltern being empowered, of somebody from the “lower” ranks rising up. The garish face paint cuts across linguistic frontiers, cultural backgrounds and state boundaries. It has become a symbol of unity, where people come together, for a time suspending their differences and societal cleavages to make themselves seen and heard together. </p>
<p>Masks such as this speaks on behalf of the protester, while anchoring each person in a wider struggle. Protesters use such masks as a way to build a counter culture, express unity, claim visibility and to challenge those in power. As such, these masks have become a mainstream vehicle with which to communicate subversion.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/126458/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Aidan McGarry receives funding from the Arts and Humanities Research Council (AHRC) </span></em></p>
From Chile to Lebanon and Iraq to Hong Kong, the same masks have become a common language to register dissent.
Aidan McGarry, Reader in International Politics at Institute for Diplomacy and International Governance, Loughborough University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/104381
2018-10-17T10:27:40Z
2018-10-17T10:27:40Z
Meet AICAN, a machine that operates as an autonomous artist
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/240835/original/file-20181016-165894-1roqcov.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">'Psychedelic,' an image created by the algorithm AICAN.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Ahmed Elgammal</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span></span></figcaption></figure><p><em><a href="https://theconversation.com/pintor-o-robot-aican-es-una-maquina-que-funciona-como-artista-autonomo-105189">Leer en español</a></em>.</p>
<p>When artificial intelligence has been used to create works of art, a human artist has always exerted a significant element of control over the creative process.</p>
<p>But what if a machine were programmed to create art on its own, with little to no human involvement? What if it were the primary creative force in the process? And if it were to create something novel, engaging and moving, who should get credit for this work?</p>
<p>At Rutgers’ <a href="http://digihumanlab.rutgers.edu">Art & AI Lab</a>, we created AICAN, a program that could be thought of as a nearly autonomous artist that has learned existing styles and aesthetics and can generate innovate images of its own. </p>
<p>People genuinely like AICAN’s work, and can’t distinguish it from that of human artists. Its pieces have been exhibited worldwide, and one even recently sold for $16,000 at an auction.</p>
<h2>An emphasis on novelty</h2>
<p>When designing the algorithm, we adhered to a theory proposed by psychologist <a href="http://psycnet.apa.org/record/2010-24768-009">Colin Martindale</a>. </p>
<p>He hypothesized that many artists will seek to make their works appealing by rejecting existing forms, subjects and styles that the public has become accustomed to. Artists seem to intuitively understand that they’re more likely to arouse viewers and capture their attention by doing something new. </p>
<p>In other words, novelty reigns. </p>
<p>So when programming AICAN, we used an algorithm called the “<a href="https://arxiv.org/abs/1706.07068">creative adversarial network</a>,” which compels AICAN to contend with two opposing forces. On one end, it tries to learn the aesthetics of existing works of art. On the other, it will be penalized if, when creating a work of its own, it too closely emulates an established style.</p>
<p>At the same time, AICAN adheres to what Martindale <a href="http://psycnet.apa.org/record/1990-98581-000">calls the “least effort”</a> principle, in which he argues that <em>too much</em> novelty will turn off viewers. </p>
<p>This ensures that the art generated will be novel but won’t depart too much from what’s considered acceptable. Ideally, it will create something new that builds off what already exists.</p>
<h2>Letting AICAN loose</h2>
<p>As for our role, we don’t select specific images to “teach” AICAN a certain aesthetic or style, <a href="https://theconversation.com/when-the-line-between-machine-and-artist-becomes-blurred-103149">as many artists who create AI art will do</a>. </p>
<p>Instead, we’ve fed the algorithm 80,000 images that represent the Western art canon over the previous five centuries. It’s somewhat like an artist taking an art history survey course, with no particular focus on a style or genre. </p>
<p>At the click of a button, the machine can create an image that can then be printed. The works will often surprise us in their range, sophistication and variation. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/240679/original/file-20181015-165921-1coxcl2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/240679/original/file-20181015-165921-1coxcl2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/240679/original/file-20181015-165921-1coxcl2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/240679/original/file-20181015-165921-1coxcl2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/240679/original/file-20181015-165921-1coxcl2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/240679/original/file-20181015-165921-1coxcl2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/240679/original/file-20181015-165921-1coxcl2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/240679/original/file-20181015-165921-1coxcl2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">‘The Birth of Venus’ by AICAN.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Ahmed Elgammal</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p><a href="https://theconversation.com/which-paintings-were-the-most-creative-of-their-time-an-algorithm-may-hold-the-answers-43157">Using our prior work on quantifying creativity</a>, AICAN can judge how creative its individual pieces are. Since it has also learned the titles used by artists and art historians in the past, the algorithm can even give names to the works it generates. It named one “Orgy”; it called another “The Beach at Pourville.”</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/240680/original/file-20181015-165900-tshm3r.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/240680/original/file-20181015-165900-tshm3r.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/240680/original/file-20181015-165900-tshm3r.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/240680/original/file-20181015-165900-tshm3r.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/240680/original/file-20181015-165900-tshm3r.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/240680/original/file-20181015-165900-tshm3r.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/240680/original/file-20181015-165900-tshm3r.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">‘The Beach at Pourville’ by AICAN.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Ahmed Elgammal</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The algorithm favors generating more abstract works than figurative ones. Our research on <a href="https://medium.com/@ahmed_elgammal/the-shape-of-art-history-in-the-eyes-of-the-machine-6c9090257263">how the machine is able to understand the evolution of art history</a> could offer an explanation. Because it’s tasked with creating something new, AICAN is likely building off more recent trends in art history, like abstract art, which came into vogue in the 20th century. </p>
<h2>Can humans tell the difference?</h2>
<p>There was still the question of how people would respond to AICAN’s work.</p>
<p>To test this, we showed subjects AICAN images and works created by human artists that were showcased at Art Basel, an annual fair that features cutting-edge contemporary art. We asked the participants whether each was made by a machine or an artist. </p>
<p><a href="https://arxiv.org/abs/1706.07068">We found that humans couldn’t tell the difference</a>: Seventy-five percent of the time, they thought the AICAN-generated images had been produced by a human artist. </p>
<p>They didn’t simply have a tough time distinguishing between the two. They genuinely enjoyed the computer-generated art, using words like “having visual structure,” “inspiring” and “communicative” when describing AICAN’s work.</p>
<p>Beginning in October 2017, we started exhibiting AICAN’s work at venues in Frankfurt, Los Angles, New York City and San Francisco, with a different set of images for each show. </p>
<p>At the exhibitions, we heard one question, time and again: Who’s the artist? </p>
<p>As a scientist, I created the algorithm, but I have no control over what the machine will generate. </p>
<p>The machine chooses the style, the subject, the composition, the colors and the texture. Yes, I set the framework, but the algorithm is fully at the helm when it comes to the elements and the principles of the art it generates. </p>
<p>For this reason, in the all exhibitions where the art was shown, I gave credit solely to the algorithm – “AICAN” – for each artwork. At Miami’s Art Basel this December, eight pieces, also credited to AICAN, will be shown. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/240277/original/file-20181011-154539-1h4rn3h.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/240277/original/file-20181011-154539-1h4rn3h.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/240277/original/file-20181011-154539-1h4rn3h.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=602&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/240277/original/file-20181011-154539-1h4rn3h.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=602&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/240277/original/file-20181011-154539-1h4rn3h.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=602&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/240277/original/file-20181011-154539-1h4rn3h.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=757&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/240277/original/file-20181011-154539-1h4rn3h.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=757&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/240277/original/file-20181011-154539-1h4rn3h.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=757&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Samples of artworks generated by AICAN that will be shown in the SCOPE Art Fair in conjunction with Art Basel Miami in December 2018.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Ahmed Elgammal</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The first artwork that was offered for sale from the AICAN collection, which AICAN titled “St. George Killing the Dragon,” was sold for $16,000 at an auction in New York in November 2017. (Most of the proceeds went to fund research at Rutgers and the Institut des Hautes Etudes Scientifiques in France.)</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/237816/original/file-20180924-85779-15v0ety.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/237816/original/file-20180924-85779-15v0ety.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/237816/original/file-20180924-85779-15v0ety.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/237816/original/file-20180924-85779-15v0ety.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/237816/original/file-20180924-85779-15v0ety.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/237816/original/file-20180924-85779-15v0ety.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/237816/original/file-20180924-85779-15v0ety.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/237816/original/file-20180924-85779-15v0ety.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">‘St. George Killing the Dragon’ was sold for $16,000.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Ahmed Elgammal</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>What the computer can’t do</h2>
<p>Still, there’s something missing in AICAN’s artistic process. </p>
<p>The algorithm might create appealing images. But it lives in an isolated creative space that lacks social context. </p>
<p>Human artists, on the other hand, are inspired by people, places and politics. They make art to tell stories and make sense of the world. </p>
<p>AICAN lacks any of that. It can, however, generate artwork that human curators can then ground in our society and connect to what’s happening around us. That’s just what we did with “Alternative Facts: The Multi Faces of Untruth,” a title we gave to a series of portraits generated by AICAN that struck us with its timely serendipity.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/240497/original/file-20181014-109242-15c13mb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/240497/original/file-20181014-109242-15c13mb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/240497/original/file-20181014-109242-15c13mb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=572&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/240497/original/file-20181014-109242-15c13mb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=572&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/240497/original/file-20181014-109242-15c13mb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=572&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/240497/original/file-20181014-109242-15c13mb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=719&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/240497/original/file-20181014-109242-15c13mb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=719&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/240497/original/file-20181014-109242-15c13mb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=719&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">‘Alternative Facts: The Multi Faces of Untruth’ by AICAN was exhibited at the 2018 Frankfurt Book Fair.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Ahmed Elgammal</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Of course, just because machines can almost autonomously produce art, it doesn’t mean they will replace artists. It simply means that artists will have an additional creative tool at their disposal, one they could even collaborate with.</p>
<p>I often compare AI art to photography. When photography was first invented in the early 19th century, <a href="https://theconversation.com/how-photography-evolved-from-science-to-art-37146">it wasn’t considered art</a> – after all, a machine was doing much of the work. </p>
<p>The tastemakers resisted, but eventually relented: A century later, photography became an established fine art genre. Today, photographs are exhibited in museums and auctioned off at astronomical prices. </p>
<p>I have no doubt that art produced by artificial intelligence will go down the same path.</p>
<hr>
<p><em>To read “When the Line Between Machine and Artist Becomes Blurred,” the first part of this two-part series on AI art, <a href="https://theconversation.com/when-the-line-between-machine-and-artist-becomes-blurred-103149">click here</a>.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/104381/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Proceeds from the sale of AICAN's art has funded Rutgers' Art & AI Lab.</span></em></p>
An algorithm named AICAN has been ‘taught’ the entire canon of Western art history – and now produces, titles and sells works of its own.
Ahmed Elgammal, Professor, Director of the Art & AI Lab, Rutgers University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/101559
2018-08-24T09:24:57Z
2018-08-24T09:24:57Z
Brazilian butt lifts are the deadliest of all aesthetic procedures – the risks explained
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/232651/original/file-20180820-30587-5ao2gq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=245%2C779%2C4437%2C2337&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/download/confirm/598816265?src=tA-X5nY4VFmHdObzy7zJIg-3-96&size=huge_jpg">MaximP/Shutterstock</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>The desire for a larger bottom is becoming more popular, with the number of so-called Brazilian butt lifts <a href="https://www.plasticsurgery.org/documents/News/Statistics/2017/cosmetic-procedure-trends-2017.pdf">more than doubling</a> in the last five years. </p>
<p>However, a recent high-profile case involving a doctor in Miami who was <a href="https://www.miamiherald.com/latest-news/article216245690.html">banned</a> from operating after the death of a patient during surgery, highlights the risks associated with having this procedure. According to the American Society of Plastic Surgeons, the Brazilian butt lift (BBL) has the <a href="https://www.plasticsurgery.org/news/press-releases/plastic-surgery-societies-issue-urgent-warning-about-the-risks-associated-with-brazilian-butt-lifts">highest rate of death</a> of all aesthetic procedures. </p>
<h2>What is a Brazilian butt lift?</h2>
<p>Some people have a BBL for aesthetic reasons, but many have it after losing lots of weight, serious disfigurement after pelvic trauma or practical problems, such as holding up trousers. </p>
<p>The procedure involves taking fat from areas of the body where it’s not wanted and transplanting it into the glutes to enlarge them.</p>
<p>To be successful, a fat graft needs nutrition and so has to be injected into tissue that has a blood supply. Fat <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S2049080117302406#bib75">can survive</a> if injected into other fat, but up to 90% of it can be absorbed if it is. Fat has more chance of staying in place if it is inserted into muscle – but this is where the risk lies.</p>
<p>Injecting fat into the buttock can easily lead to serious problems if done incorrectly. These include a fat embolism, when fat enters the bloodstream and blocks a blood vessel. In the lungs, for example, it blocks oxygen from entering the bloodstream, while in the brain it can cause a stroke – both can be fatal.</p>
<p>The volume of fat is also important. Most surgeons consider 300ml – slightly less than a can of soda – to be a safe amount. However, some more experienced surgeons use a much larger volume of fat that may be measured in litres. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/232330/original/file-20180816-2897-5uztcv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C0%2C2598%2C1730&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/232330/original/file-20180816-2897-5uztcv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/232330/original/file-20180816-2897-5uztcv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/232330/original/file-20180816-2897-5uztcv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/232330/original/file-20180816-2897-5uztcv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/232330/original/file-20180816-2897-5uztcv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/232330/original/file-20180816-2897-5uztcv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">More people are risking surgery to get a bigger bum.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/download/confirm/371181623?src=sCIAWMxSfrQ9iPLhTtiHYw-1-90&size=huge_jpg">Satyrenko/Shutterstock</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Why is the mortality rate so high?</h2>
<p>A <a href="https://academic.oup.com/asj/article/37/7/796/3075249">2017 survey</a> of 692 surgeons from across the world investigated the rate of mortality among patients undergoing BBL. Throughout their careers, the surgeons reported 32 cases of death from a fat embolism and 103 non-fatal cases, but there are probably many more that remain unreported.</p>
<p>Fat embolism was recently identified as the leading cause of death in aesthetic surgery. The estimated death rate from fat embolism may be as high as <a href="https://www.plasticsurgery.org/news/press-releases/plastic-surgery-societies-issue-urgent-warning-about-the-risks-associated-with-brazilian-butt-lifts">one in 3,000</a> for BBLs. A <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/26111314">2015 study</a> of deaths from BBL surgery concluded that they probably occur as a result of gluteal blood vessels becoming damaged during the procedure, allowing fat to enter the bloodstream. The authors recommended that “buttocks lipoinjection should be performed very carefully, avoiding injections into deep muscle planes”.</p>
<p>Deaths in the US <a href="https://www.nbcmiami.com/news/local/NBC-6-Investigation-Prompts-Worldwide-Warning-About-Popular-Cosmetic-Procedure-398954221.html">have caused concern</a>. In one recently <a href="http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-3594781/Death-mother-two-29-following-liposuction-buttocks-augmentation-surgery-caused-fat-clots-lungs-heart.html">reported</a> case in the US that led to death from a fat embolism, surgeons believed injections had been made into superficial fat, but at post-mortem fat was found in the heart and lungs. There was also some evidence of damage to gluteal blood vessels. </p>
<p>However, it should be noted that fat is also injected into muscle for some breast enhancement surgery, with no reported deaths. This suggests that there are other factors involved in the high mortality rate among BBL patients.</p>
<p>Most of these deaths <a href="https://academic.oup.com/asj/article/37/7/811/3868431">appear to have been caused</a> by inappropriately qualified practitioners working in non-approved facilities, including homes and garages. </p>
<p>Other post-surgery problems, such as gangrene and <a href="https://www.thesun.co.uk/news/3899372/youngest-euromillions-winner-jane-park-is-fighting-for-her-life-with-sepsis-after-brazilian-bum-lift-went-wrong/">sepsis</a>, can also be fatal.</p>
<h2>Is it worth the risk?</h2>
<p>The potential risk of death from a fat embolism has to be weighed against the benefits, especially in cases where there are physical and functional benefits to having the surgery. In the case of the Brazilian butt lift, perhaps the risks outweigh the benefits. </p>
<p>Nevertheless, in a celebrity and beauty obsessed society, the procedure remains popular, despite the risks. So it is important that surgeons make the risks of the procedure very clear to anyone considering it. Patient safety should always be the top priority. And surgeons need to do more to increase the safety of the procedure and lower the unnecessarily high mortality rate.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/101559/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Jim Frame does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
The number of people going under the knife for a big bum is increasing – but it carries the highest risk of death in any cosmetic surgery.
Jim Frame, Professor of Aesthetic Plastic Surgery, Anglia Ruskin University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/99724
2018-07-12T09:15:58Z
2018-07-12T09:15:58Z
Trump baby balloon: why humour is such a powerful form of protest
<p>An <a href="https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-london-44737293">inflatable “baby” Donald Trump</a> was the star attraction in London as protestors take to the streets to register their dissatisfaction with the visit of the US president on July 13. Protestors have much to motivate their mobilisation against Trump: from the controversial <a href="https://theconversation.com/children-have-been-separated-from-their-families-for-generations-why-trumps-policy-was-different-98587">separation of families</a> at the US-Mexican border, to his misogyny, nepotism, and <a href="https://theconversation.com/trump-travel-ban-targeting-muslims-will-not-make-america-safer-97519">travel ban</a>. Tens of thousands are expected to attend a “Stop Trump” rally in what <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2018/jul/09/donald-trump-to-face-carnival-of-resistance">organisers have described</a> as a “carnival of resistance”.</p>
<p>Humour, in the forms of chants, performances, satire, cartoons, theatre, jokes, memes and puns has a long tradition in protest movements. It acts as a vehicle to communicate ideas as well as to foster a sense of community – it can cut across linguistic barriers, and increase the resonance of the message.</p>
<p>All protests have a target, something or someone to galvanise others to action. The goal of the crowdfunded inflatable is to annoy the famously thin-skinned president. The six-metre tall balloon depicts Trump as a snarling baby in a nappy with tiny hands and moobs. Its purpose is not to change laws or policies, nor to influence his decisions. It is meant to mock and to undermine, suggesting the president is infantile, full of hot air, cartoonish and ridiculous. </p>
<p>Humour is empowering because it establishes those who are in on the joke and those who are the object of it. The balloon signifies an attempt to take back control and to undermine Trump. Whether he is aware of the balloon – and surely this media-obsessed president will be – is neither here nor there because mocking Trump is not just about annoying him. It fosters a sense of belonging between protestors and invites others to join.</p>
<p><div data-react-class="Tweet" data-react-props="{"tweetId":"1017690144948621312"}"></div></p>
<h2>Catharsis</h2>
<p>The use of ridicule in this way confirms the public’s relative weakness vis-à-vis governments, multinational corporations and world leaders. But satire and humour foster a sense of solidarity in the face of adversity. For those of us exasperated by the actions of the Trump administration appearing in our daily news feed, mocking Trump is not just a sneer – it gives us a sense of power, at least for a moment.</p>
<p>Mocking strongman leaders is a cathartic exercise and one favoured by protestors around the world, particularly in authoritarian regimes. In response to Vladimir Putin’s repressive treatment of LGBTIQ people in Russia, including the notorious <a href="https://www.hrw.org/news/2014/06/29/russia-anti-lgbt-law-tool-discrimination">anti-gay propaganda law</a> of 2013, a neon Warholesque image of Putin in full make-up replete with lipstick was widely shared across social media. </p>
<p>The image became so ubiquitous that Kremlin officials worried that the Russian president’s sexual orientation would be called into question and in 2017, the Russian justice ministry <a href="http://www.newsweek.com/russia-bans-lipstick-image-putin-extremist-579892">banned the image</a>. However, Kremlin-approved images of the masculine Russian leader shirtless on horseback remain in circulation. </p>
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<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/RXCDK_h0Q0A?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
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<h2>The aesthetics of protest</h2>
<p>As I have argued in my work on the <a href="http://www.aestheticsofprotest.com">aesthetics of protest</a>, protestors make aesthetic choices when communicating their ideas and this is bound up with the visual framing or staging of protests. Protest aesthetics are the visual and performative elements of protest, such as images, symbols, graffiti, art, humour, as well as the choreography of actions in public spaces. Protestors employ artistic forms which often retain a creative and handmade quality, frequently enlisting popular culture tropes such as the V for Vendetta <a href="https://www.independent.co.uk/news/uk/home-news/anonymous-how-the-guy-fawkes-mask-became-an-icon-of-the-protest-movement-a6720831.html">mask of Guy Fawkes</a> which has become emblematic of the Occupy and Anonymous protests.</p>
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<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/from-billboards-to-twitter-why-the-aesthetics-of-protest-matters-more-today-97629">From billboards to Twitter, why the aesthetics of protest matters more today</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>While conventional forms of democracy, such as political party membership or voting, have declined around the world, political voices are now increasingly being expressed and performed through a variety of textual, visual and graphic forms. We’re witnessing an opening up of a public space for dissent, facilitated by protest movements and social media, which expands the range of voices which can be heard by those in positions of power. So humour, democratically conceived and expressed in ways such as a giant Trump balloon, allows our voice to be heard.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/99724/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Aidan McGarry receives funding from the Arts and Humanities Research Council.</span></em></p>
The changing aesthetics of protest allow many more voices to be heard.
Aidan McGarry, Reader in International Politics, Loughborough University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/89921
2018-03-15T19:09:10Z
2018-03-15T19:09:10Z
Friday essay: in defence of beauty in art
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/210211/original/file-20180314-131610-6h93fc.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Detail from Emily Kam Kngwarray, Anmatyerr people
Yam awely 1995
synthetic polymer paint on canvas
150 x 491 cm</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">National Gallery of Australia, Canberra Gift of the Delmore Collection, Donald and Janet Holt 1995 © Emily Kam Kngwarray. </span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Art critics and historians have a difficult time dealing with beauty. We are trained from early on that the analysis of a work of art relies on proof, those things that we can point to as evidence. The problem with beauty is that it’s almost impossible to describe. To describe the beauty of an object is like trying to explain why something’s funny — when it’s put into words, the moment is lost.</p>
<p>Works of art need not be beautiful for us to consider them important. We need only think of Marcel Duchamp’s “readymade” urinal that he flipped on its side, signed with a false name, and submitted to the exhibition of the newly founded Society of Independent Artists in New York in 1917. We’d have a hard time considering this object beautiful, but it is widely accepted to be one of most important works of Western art from the last century. </p>
<figure class="align-left zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/205449/original/file-20180208-180805-7id1jp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/205449/original/file-20180208-180805-7id1jp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/205449/original/file-20180208-180805-7id1jp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205449/original/file-20180208-180805-7id1jp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205449/original/file-20180208-180805-7id1jp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205449/original/file-20180208-180805-7id1jp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=712&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205449/original/file-20180208-180805-7id1jp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=712&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205449/original/file-20180208-180805-7id1jp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=712&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Marcel Duchamp, Fountain, 1917, replica 1964.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="http://www.tate.org.uk/art/artworks/duchamp-fountain-t07573">Collection: Tate. http://www.tate.org.uk/art/artworks/duchamp-fountain-t07573</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>To call something beautiful is not a critical assertion, so it’s deemed of little value to an argument that attempts to understand the morals, politics, and ideals of human cultures past and present. To call something beautiful is not the same as calling it an important work of art. As a philosopher might say, beauty is not a necessary condition of the art object. </p>
<p>And yet, it is often the beauty we perceive in works of art from the past or from another culture that makes them so compelling. When we recognise the beauty of an object made or selected by another person we understand that maker/selector as a feeling subject who shared with us an ineffable aesthetic experience. When we find something beautiful we become aware of our mutual humanity. </p>
<p>Take, for example, <a href="https://artsearch.nga.gov.au/Detail-LRG.cfm?IRN=6302">the extraordinary painting Yam awely by Emily Kam Kngwarry</a> in our national collection. Like so many Indigenous Australians, Kngwarry has evoked her deep spiritual and cultural connection to the lands that we share through some of the most intensely beautiful objects made by human hands. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/210211/original/file-20180314-131610-6h93fc.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/210211/original/file-20180314-131610-6h93fc.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/210211/original/file-20180314-131610-6h93fc.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=187&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/210211/original/file-20180314-131610-6h93fc.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=187&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/210211/original/file-20180314-131610-6h93fc.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=187&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/210211/original/file-20180314-131610-6h93fc.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=235&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/210211/original/file-20180314-131610-6h93fc.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=235&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/210211/original/file-20180314-131610-6h93fc.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=235&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Emily Kam Kngwarray, Anmatyerr people.
Yam awely 1995
synthetic polymer paint on canvas
150 x 491 cm</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">National Gallery of Australia, Canberra Gift of the Delmore Collection, Donald and Janet Holt 1995 © Emily Kam Kngwarray. Licensed by Viscopy</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In her work we can trace the lines of the brush, the wet-on-wet blend of colours intuitively selected, the place of the artist’s body as she moved about the canvas to complete her design. We can uncover her choices—the mix of predetermination and instinct of a maker in the flow of creation. </p>
<p>It is not our cultural differences that strike me when I look at this painting. I know that a complex set of ideas, stories, and experiences have informed its maker. But what captures me is beyond reason. It cannot be put into words. My felt response to this work does not answer questions of particular cultures or histories. It is more universal than that. I am aware of a beautiful object offered up by its maker, who surely felt the beauty of her creation just as I do. </p>
<p>Let me be clear. I am not saying that works of art ought to be beautiful. What I want to defend is our felt experience of beauty as way of knowing and navigating the world around us. </p>
<h2>The aesthete as radical</h2>
<p>The aesthete — a much maligned figure of late-19th and early-20th century provides a fascinating insight on this topic. Aesthetes have had a bad rap. To call someone an aesthete is almost an insult. It suggests that they are frivolous, vain, privileged, and affected. But I would like to reposition aesthetes as radical, transgressive figures, who challenged the very foundations of the conservative culture in which they lived, though an all-consuming love of beautiful things.</p>
<figure class="align-left zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/205450/original/file-20180208-180829-1bfbiqj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/205450/original/file-20180208-180829-1bfbiqj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/205450/original/file-20180208-180829-1bfbiqj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=882&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205450/original/file-20180208-180829-1bfbiqj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=882&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205450/original/file-20180208-180829-1bfbiqj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=882&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205450/original/file-20180208-180829-1bfbiqj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1109&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205450/original/file-20180208-180829-1bfbiqj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1109&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205450/original/file-20180208-180829-1bfbiqj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1109&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Oscar Wilde, c. 1882.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Napoleon Sarony, Library of Congress.</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Oscar Wilde was, perhaps, the consummate Aesthete - famed as much for his wit as for his foppish dress and his love of peacock feathers, sun flowers and objets d’art. His often-quoted comment “I find it harder and harder every day to live up to my blue china” has been noted as a perfect summary of the aesthete’s vacuous nature. </p>
<p>For Wilde and his followers, the work of art — whether it be a poem, a book, a play, a piece of music, a painting, a dinner plate, or a carpet — should only be judged on the grounds of beauty. They considered it an utterly vulgar idea that art should serve any other purpose. </p>
<p>Over time, the term “aesthete” began to take on new meanings as a euphemism for the effete Oxford intellectual. Men like Wilde were an open threat to acceptable gender norms—the pursuit of beauty, both in the adoration of beautiful things, and in the pursuit of personal appearances, was deemed unmanly. It had long been held that men and women approached the world differently. Men were rational and intellectual; women emotional and irrational. </p>
<p>These unfortunate stereotypes are very familiar to us, and they play both ways. When a woman is confident and intellectual she is sometimes deemed unfeminine. When she is emotional and empathic, she is at risk of being called hysterical. Likewise, a man who works in the beauty industry — a make-up artist, fashion designer, hairdresser, or interior designer — might be mocked for being effete and superficial. We only need to look to the tasteless comments made about Prime Minister Julia Gillard and her partner Tim Mathieson to see evidence of that today.</p>
<p>By the 1880s, many caricatures were published of a flamboyant Wilde as a cultivated aesthete. One cartoon from the Washington Post lampooned the aesthete with a reference to Charles Darwin’s controversial theory of evolution. How far is the aesthete from the ape, it asked. Here the pun relies on a comparison made between the irrational ape — Darwin’s original human — and Wilde the frivolous aesthete. </p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/205451/original/file-20180208-180816-yc4b0j.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/205451/original/file-20180208-180816-yc4b0j.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/205451/original/file-20180208-180816-yc4b0j.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=982&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205451/original/file-20180208-180816-yc4b0j.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=982&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205451/original/file-20180208-180816-yc4b0j.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=982&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205451/original/file-20180208-180816-yc4b0j.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1234&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205451/original/file-20180208-180816-yc4b0j.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1234&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205451/original/file-20180208-180816-yc4b0j.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1234&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"></span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Washington Post, 22 January 1882</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The aesthete was a dangerous combination of male privilege, class privilege, and female sensibility. The queerness of aesthetes like Wilde was dangerously transgressive, and the pursuit of beauty provided a zone in which to challenge the heteronormative foundations of conservative society, just as Darwin’s radical theories had challenged Christian beliefs of the origins of humankind.</p>
<p>Wilde’s legacy was continued by a new generation of young aristocrats at a time of cultural crises between the two World Wars. The Bright Young Things, as they were called, were the last bloom of a dying plant — the last generation of British aristocrats to lead a life of unfettered leisure before so many were cut down in their prime by the war that permanently altered the economic structure of Britain. </p>
<p>Stephen Tennant was the brightest of the Bright Young Things. He was the youngest son of a Scottish peer, a delicate and sickly child whose recurrent bouts of lung disease lent him a thin, delicate, consumptive and romantic appearance. </p>
<figure class="align-left zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/205453/original/file-20180208-180821-1fwuobu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/205453/original/file-20180208-180821-1fwuobu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/205453/original/file-20180208-180821-1fwuobu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=891&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205453/original/file-20180208-180821-1fwuobu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=891&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205453/original/file-20180208-180821-1fwuobu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=891&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205453/original/file-20180208-180821-1fwuobu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1119&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205453/original/file-20180208-180821-1fwuobu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1119&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205453/original/file-20180208-180821-1fwuobu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1119&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Stephen Tennant circa 1920-25.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Foulsham Banfield/Wikimedia Commons</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Stephen was immortalised as the character of Lord Sebastian Flyte in Evelyn Waugh’s masterpiece, Brideshead Revisited. Waugh’s character of the frivolous Oxford Aesthete who carries around his teddy bear, Aloysius, and dotes on his Nanny, borrows these characteristics from Stephen — who kept a plush monkey as a constant companion right up until his death. </p>
<p>Waugh’s book is a powerful meditation on art, beauty and faith. The narrator, Charles Ryder, is thought to have been loosely based on Tennant’s close friend, the painter/illustrator Rex Whistler, the aesthete-artist who tragically died on his first day of engagement in the Second World War. </p>
<p>Through the character of Charles, Waugh grapples with the dilemma of beauty vs erudition. Visiting Brideshead, the magnificent country estate of Sebastian’s family, Charles is keen to learn its history and to train his eye. He asks his host, “Is the dome by Inigo Jones, too? It looks later.” Sebastian replies: “Oh, Charles, don’t be such a tourist. What does it matter when it was built, if it’s pretty?” Sebastian gives the aesthete’s response, that a work of art or architecture should be judged on aesthetic merit alone. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/205454/original/file-20180208-180829-usboki.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/205454/original/file-20180208-180829-usboki.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/205454/original/file-20180208-180829-usboki.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=623&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205454/original/file-20180208-180829-usboki.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=623&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205454/original/file-20180208-180829-usboki.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=623&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205454/original/file-20180208-180829-usboki.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=783&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205454/original/file-20180208-180829-usboki.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=783&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205454/original/file-20180208-180829-usboki.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=783&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Charles Ryder (Jeremy Irons) and Lord Sebastian Flyte (Anthony Andrews), a still from the 1981 Granda Television adaptation of Evelyn Waugh, Brideshead Revisited.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Granada</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>I’m not suggesting that we should all drop what we’re doing and quit our jobs to pursue an uncompromising pursuit of beauty. But I do think we can learn something from the aesthete’s approach to life.</p>
<p>Aesthetes like Wilde and Tennant, cushioned by their privilege, transgressed the accepted norms of their gender to pursue a life not governed by reason but by feeling. This is a radical challenge to our logocentric society; a challenge to a world that often privileges a rational (masculine) perspective that fails to account for our deeply felt experience of the world around us.</p>
<h2>How, then, to judge works of art?</h2>
<p>How, then, should the art critic proceed today when beauty counts for so little in the judgement of works of art? </p>
<p>The unsettling times in which we live lead us to question the ethics of aesthetics. What happens when we find an object beautiful that was produced by a person or in a culture that we judge to be immoral or unjust? </p>
<p>I often encounter this problem with works of art produced for the French court in the 17th and 18th century – the period I study. </p>
<p>Last year, when I took a group through the exhibition Versailles: Treasures from the Palace at the National Gallery of Australia, one student was particularly repulsed by <a href="https://www.christies.com/lotfinder/lot/partie-de-service-de-table-en-porcelaine-5432299-details.aspx?from=searchresults&intobjectid=5432299&sid=854076e2-a1ea-4020-aed7-c013f99c397d&lid=1&sc_lang=en">Sèvres porcelain made for members of the Court of French king Louis XV</a>. For her, it was impossible to like those dishes and bowls, because she felt they represented the extraordinary inequity of Old Regime France – these exquisitely refined objects were produced at the expense of the suffering poor, she thought.</p>
<p>I suppose that might be true, but I can’t help it – I find this porcelain irresistibly beautiful. </p>
<p>The vibrant bleu-celeste glaze, the playful rhythm of ribbons and garlands of flowers, those delicate renderings painted by hand with the tiniest of brushes. It is the beauty of such objects that compels me to learn more about them.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/210177/original/file-20180313-30983-4h8lzu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/210177/original/file-20180313-30983-4h8lzu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/210177/original/file-20180313-30983-4h8lzu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/210177/original/file-20180313-30983-4h8lzu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/210177/original/file-20180313-30983-4h8lzu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/210177/original/file-20180313-30983-4h8lzu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/210177/original/file-20180313-30983-4h8lzu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A Sevres wine-bottle cooler (part of a service), 1771–72.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Wikimedia Commons</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>When it was first made, Sèvres porcelain demonstrated the union of science and art. We are meant to marvel at the chemistry and artistry required to transform minerals, metal and clay into a sparkling profusion of decoration. This porcelain was the material embodiment of France as an advanced and flourishing nation. </p>
<p>You might well argue that the politics of 18th-century porcelain is bad. But our instinctual perception of beauty precedes the reasoned judgement of art.</p>
<p>The artists and makers at the Sèvres factory were responding to the human capacity to perceive beauty. These objects were designed to engage our aesthetic sensibilities.</p>
<p>Works of art don’t have to be beautiful, but we must acknowledge that aesthetic judgement plays a large part in the reception of art. Beauty might not be an objective quality in the work of art, nor is it a rational way for us to argue for the cultural importance of an object. It’s not something we can teach, and perhaps it’s not something you can learn.</p>
<p>But when it comes down to it, our ability to perceive beauty is often what makes a work of art compelling. It is a feeling that reveals a pure moment of humanity that we share with the maker, transcending time and place.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/89921/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Robert Wellington receives funding from Australian Research Council. Material in this article was first presented as the Australian National University 2017 Last Lecture.</span></em></p>
Today, beauty counts for little in the judgement of works of art. But our felt experience of beauty connects us with an object’s maker, revealing a pure moment of humanity.
Robert Wellington, Senior Lecturer, Art History and Visual Culture, Australian National University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/89737
2018-01-17T03:10:28Z
2018-01-17T03:10:28Z
What makes some art so bad that it’s good?
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/201784/original/file-20180112-101505-1yhzeua.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Tommy Wiseau clutches a football in 'The Room,' the 2003 film he wrote, produced and starred in.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://static.highsnobiety.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/03/15195140/the-room-tommy-wiseau-james-franco-01-1200x800.jpg">Wiseau Films</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>“<a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt3521126/?ref_=fn_al_tt_1">The Disaster Artist</a>” – which just earned James Franco a Golden Globe for his portrayal of director Tommy Wiseau – tells the story of the making of “<a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0368226/?ref_=nv_sr_1">The Room</a>,” a film that’s been <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2013/10/06/books/review/the-disaster-artist-by-greg-sestero-and-tom-bissell.html">dubbed</a> “the Citizen Kane” of bad movies. </p>
<p>Not everyone likes “The Room.” (Critics certainly don’t – it has a <a href="https://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/the_room_1998/">26 percent rating</a> on Rotten Tomatoes.) But lots of folks love it. It plays at midnight showings at theaters across North America, and it’s a testament to a movie’s awfulness (and popularity) that, years later, it became the subject of a different movie. </p>
<p>We usually hate art when it seems like it’s been poorly executed, and we appreciate great art, which is supposed to represent the pinnacle of human ingenuity. So, this raises a deeper question: What’s the appeal of art that’s so bad it’s good? (We could call this kind of art “good-bad art.”) Why do so many people grow to love good-bad art like “The Room” in the first place?</p>
<p><a href="https://link.springer.com/article/10.1007%2Fs10790-016-9569-2">In a new paper</a> for an academic journal of philosophy, my colleague Matt Johnson and I explored these questions. </p>
<h2>The artist’s intention is key</h2>
<p>A Hollywood outsider named Tommy Wiseau produced, directed and starred in “<a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0368226/">The Room</a>,” which was released in 2003. </p>
<p>The film is full of failures. It jumps between different genres; there are absurd non-sequiturs; storylines are introduced, only to never be developed; and there are three sex scenes <em>in the first 20 minutes</em>. Wiseau poured substantial cash into the film – <a href="http://www.vulture.com/2013/06/the-room-10th-anniversary-history.html">it cost</a> around US$6 million to make – so there’s some degree of professional veneer. But this only accentuates its failure. </p>
<p>Good-bad art doesn’t just happen at the movies. On TV, there was “<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dark_Shadows">Dark Shadows</a>,” a low-budget vampire soap opera from the 1970s. In Somerville, Massachusetts, you can visit MOBA – <a href="http://www.museumofbadart.org/">the Museum of Bad Art</a> – dedicated to paintings that are so bad they’re good. The poet <a href="https://www.theparisreview.org/blog/2014/12/01/the-poetaster/">Julia Moore</a> (1847-1920) was ironically known as “The Sweet Singer of Michigan” for her <a href="http://homepages.wmich.edu/%7Ecooneys/txt/Moore/Chicago.Fire.html">deliciously terrible poetry</a>. And the recent film “<a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt4136084/?ref_=nv_sr_1">Florence Foster Jenkins</a>” tells the true story of an opera singer with a <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hcs9yJjVecs">tone-deaf voice</a> so beloved that she sold out Carnegie Hall.</p>
<p>In good-bad art, it seems that the very features that make something bad – a horrible voice, cheesy verses or an absurd storyline – are what end up drawing people in. </p>
<p>So we need to look at what’s “bad” about good-bad art in the first place. We equated artistic “badness” with artistic failure, which comes from failed intentions. It occurs when the creator didn’t realize their vision, or their vision wasn’t good in the first place. (MoBA, for instance, requires that its art comes from genuine attempts.) </p>
<p>You might think a movie’s bad when it’s very silly, whether it’s “<a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0417148/">Snakes on a Plane</a>” or “<a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt2724064/">Sharknado</a>.” You might think that “<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Rocky_Horror_Picture_Show">The Rocky Horror Picture Show</a>” is bad because it looks schlocky. </p>
<p>But these films aren’t failures. “Snakes on a Plane” is <em>supposed</em> to be silly; “The Rocky Horror Picture Show” is <em>supposed</em> to look schlocky. So we can’t categorize these works as so bad they’re good. They’re successful in the sense that the writers and directors executed their visions. </p>
<p>Our love for good-bad art, on the other hand, is based upon failure.</p>
<h2>How not to appreciate bad art</h2>
<p>So how could artistic failure ever be the basis for goodness?</p>
<p>A pretty natural answer here is that we like good-bad art because we take a general pleasure in the failure of others. Our pleasure, say, at MoBA, is a particular kind of schadenfreude – the German word for taking joy in another’s misfortune. This view doesn’t have an official name, but we could call this “the massive failure view.” (The great Canadian humorist Stephen Leacock <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Humor-humanity-introduction-study-humor/dp/B00085RDMU">held this view</a>, arguing that singer Julia Moore’s earnest ineptitude made her work funnier.) If this view were right, our enjoyment of “The Room” would be morally suspect; it’s not healthy to get our kicks from the misfortune of others.</p>
<p>Fortunately for lovers of good-bad art, we believe this “massive failure theory” of good-bad art is false, for two reasons.</p>
<p>First, it doesn’t feel like we are enjoying pure failure in works like “The Room.” Our enjoyment seems to go much deeper. We laugh, but our enjoyment also comes from a kind of bewilderment: <em>How could anyone think that this was a good idea?</em> </p>
<p>On his podcast, comedian Marc Maron recently <a href="http://www.wtfpod.com/podcast/episode-870-james-franco">interviewed Franco</a> about “The Disaster Artist.” Maron was a little uneasy about the film; to him, it seemed as if Franco were taking a gleeful delight in Wiseau’s failure. </p>
<p>But Franco resisted this: “The Room” isn’t just great because it fails, he explained; it’s great because it fails in such a confounding way. Somehow, through its many failures, the film totally captivates its viewers. You find yourself unable to look away; its failure is gorgeously, majestically, bewildering.</p>
<p>Second, if we were just enjoying massive failure, then any really bad movie would be good-bad art; movies would simply have to fail. But that’s not how good-bad art works. In good-bad art, movies have to fail in the right ways – in interesting or especially absurd ways. </p>
<p>Some bad art is too bad – it’s just boring, or self-indulgent or overwrought. Even big failures aren’t enough to make something so bad it’s good. </p>
<h2>The right way to appreciate bad art</h2>
<p>We argue that good-bad artworks offer a brand of bizarreness that leads to a distinct form of appreciation.</p>
<p>Many works – not just good-bad artworks – are good because they are bizarre. Take David Lynch’s films: Their storylines can possess a strange, dreamy logic. But good-bad art offers a unique kind of bizarreness. As with the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/David_Lynch_filmography">films of David Lynch</a>, we’re bewildered when we watch “The Room.” But in Lynch’s movies, you know that the director at least intentionally included the bizarre elements, so there’s some sense of an underlying order to the story. </p>
<p>In good-bad art like “The Room,” that underlying order falls out from beneath you, since the bizarreness is not intended.</p>
<p>This is why fans of good-bad art strongly insist that their love for it is genuine, not ironic. They love it as a gorgeous freak accident of nature, something that turned out beautifully – not despite, but because of the failure of its creators. </p>
<p>Maybe, then, when we delight in good-bad art, we are taking some comfort: Our projects might fail, too. But even beauty can blossom out of failure.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/89737/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>John Dyck does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Sometimes a work of art is characterized by a string of failures, but nonetheless ends up being a gorgeous freak accident of nature.
John Dyck, PhD Student in Philosophy, CUNY Graduate Center
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/83823
2017-09-25T16:46:41Z
2017-09-25T16:46:41Z
How kitsch consumed the world
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/186219/original/file-20170915-8081-au2pb1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">'The Dictator' (2012) by Sacha Baron-Cohen plays on the fact that kitsch is used by dictators and fundamentalists to redefine our world. </span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/zennie62/6935399759">Zennie Abraham/Flickr</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>What is the predominant aesthetic of the twenty-first century? <a href="http://www.manchesteruniversitypress.co.uk/9780719066160/">According to sociology professors Ruth Holliday and Tracey Potts</a>, “we are on the point of drowning in kitsch. A casual survey of the British metropolitan high street offers ample evidence of the kitschification of everyday life.”</p>
<p>Kitsch can also be called cheesiness or tackiness. <a href="http://www.sharecom.ca/greenberg/kitsch.html">Specialists</a> have defined kitsch as a tasteless copy of an existing style or as the systematic display of bad taste or artistic deficiency. Garden gnomes are kitsch, just like cheap paintings for tourists, which are technically correct but express their “truths” too directly and too straightforwardly, often in the form of clichés. </p>
<p>Some people play with kitsch by using irony, which can lead to interesting results. However, most of the time, kitsch has negative connotations. </p>
<h2>Terrorism prefers kitsch</h2>
<p>In politics, most dictators have attempted to reinforce their authority with the help of kitsch propaganda. The former Libyan leader Muammar Gaddafi was called “<a href="https://uk.news.yahoo.com/muammar-gaddafi-kitsch-dictator-162327388.html">the kitsch-dictator</a> and Saddam Hussein, <a href="https://www.foreignaffairs.com/reviews/review-essay/2011-04-14/what-totalitarian-art">who designed his own monuments in a Stalinist spirit</a>, is one of the few turn-of-the-century leaders able to debate his title. The tastes of the nouveau riches in Russia, China, the Middle East, and the US excel in a kind of <a href="http://www.raymondbarrett.com/">conspicuous vulgarity</a> that perfectly matches academic definitions of kitsch. </p>
<p>Terrorism, graphic images of which have invaded our lives in the past two decades, prefers kitsch. <a href="http://www.terrorismanalysts.com/pt/index.php/pot/article/view/352/html">Al-Qaeda propaganda</a> indulges in romantic presentations of sunrises, pre-modern utopias, as well as Gothic presentations of skulls and bones. Sociologist <a href="https://books.google.fr/books/about/Jihadi_Thought_and_Ideology.html?id=JzsLBAAAQBAJ&redir_esc=y">Rüdiger Lohlker</a>, who analysed jihadist aesthetics, wrote that the jihadi magazine Al-Qaeda Airlines displayed "a fascination with gothic elements (skulls and bones) and kitsch”. </p>
<p>Videos put out by the so-called Islamic State (IS) offer even more explicit kitsch expressions as they cultivate the art of violence for its shock value.</p>
<h2>Cultural identity theft</h2>
<p>So why is there so much kitsch? Is there more kitsch now than there’s ever been? A lot of cheesiness has been around in popular religious art, and Caligula is probably the kitsch champion of all times. Enlightenment brought kitsch (then contained in Baroque art) to a temporary halt but it seems that we are catching up again. American screenwriter Kevin Williamson <a href="http://www.nationalreview.com/article/419853/witless-ape-rides-escalator-kevin-d-williamson">has called Donald Trump</a> in the National Review “the worst taste since Caligula.”</p>
<p>Trump goes back to the pre-Enlightenment taste of Absolutism: <a href="https://paulmullins.wordpress.com/2016/11/22/the-triumph-of-tackiness-the-materiality-of-trump/">his gilded Manhattan penthouse</a> is replete with marble, Louis XIV furnishings, and haphazardly assembled historical themes. </p>
<p><a href="https://www.botzbornstein.org/deculturation">According to my analysis</a>, this attraction for kitsch has to do with the phenomenon of “deculturation” a phenomena in which <a href="https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/deculturation">a particular group is deprived of one or more aspects of its identity</a>“. The term emerged in sociology in debates about the effects of colonialism and subsequent loss of culture, for example in Pierre Bourdieu’s early work <a href="http://www.persee.fr/doc/ahess_0395-2649_1960_num_15_2_420651_t1_0402_0000_2">Sociologie de l'Algérie</a>.</p>
<p>Humans have always needed truths to believe in. Whereas in the past those truths tended to be transmitted through cultures, they are now increasingly produced instantaneously without cultural mediation. Kitsch employs this mechanism in the realm of aesthetics. In today’s world, kitsch is redefining our perception of truth; it is a truth devoid of culture or context.</p>
<p>The production of immediate, pure, and decultured truths is most obvious in the sphere of fundamentalist religions. Islam scholar Olivier Roy has <a href="http://cadmus.eui.eu/handle/1814/14924">shown</a> that religious fundamentalism arises when religion is separated from the indigenous culture in which it was embedded. </p>
<p>Radicalisation occurs when religions attempt to define themselves as culturally neutral and "pure”. When religions are disconnected from concrete cultural values, their truths become absolute; fundamentalist religions tend to see themselves as <a href="http://www.hup.harvard.edu/catalog.php?isbn=9780674291416&content=reviews">providers of scientific truths</a>.</p>
<h2>Narcissistic impulse</h2>
<p><a href="http://csmt.uchicago.edu/glossary2004/kitsch.htm">Studies</a> have shown that kitsch has its roots in an intrinsically narcissistic impulse. That’s why it thrives particularly well in neoliberal environments determined by the dynamics of the information society. <a href="https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2017/04/170418094255.htm">Social media are narcissistic</a> because they enable individuals to recycle their own selves without being confronted with the culture of the other.</p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/186418/original/file-20170918-420-1ki0j1y.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/186418/original/file-20170918-420-1ki0j1y.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/186418/original/file-20170918-420-1ki0j1y.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=726&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/186418/original/file-20170918-420-1ki0j1y.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=726&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/186418/original/file-20170918-420-1ki0j1y.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=726&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/186418/original/file-20170918-420-1ki0j1y.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=913&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/186418/original/file-20170918-420-1ki0j1y.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=913&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/186418/original/file-20170918-420-1ki0j1y.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=913&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Narcissus was so obsessed with himself that he died contemplating his own image. Between 1594 and 1596.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Narcissus-Caravaggio_(1594-96)_edited.jpg">Caravaggio/Galleria Nazionale d'Arte Antica/Wikimedia</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Algorithms tell us which books we like, based on previous choices. The narcissist structure of this model is obvious. Through algorithms, signs are quantified and classified along the guidelines of abstract forms of excellence. In a decultured world, the self becomes the only remaining ethical reference. </p>
<p>When there is no cultural other, only the “I” will be taken for granted. In the worst case, this system produces self-centered “alternative truths” and conspiracy theories, which are “kitsch-theories” because of their narcissistic, self-confirming structures.</p>
<p>“Kitsch truths” establish themselves autonomously by narcissistically affirming their own truth. Along the same lines, alternative truths and conspiracy theories do not misinform (misinformation being the holding back of an existing truth) but they kitschify truth. In the end, this leads to the total loss of truth.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/83823/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Thorsten Botz-Bornstein does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Kitsch has slowly become the main cultural reference for all that surrounds us, and thrives in propaganda.
Thorsten Botz-Bornstein, Associale Professor of Philosophy, Gulf University for Science and Technology
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/73255
2017-03-31T02:03:41Z
2017-03-31T02:03:41Z
Fractal patterns in nature and art are aesthetically pleasing and stress-reducing
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/163337/original/image-20170330-4592-1n4ji0f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">A fern repeats its pattern at various scales.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/evilbu/4576466328">Michael </a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/">CC BY-NC</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Humans are visual creatures. Objects we call “beautiful” or “aesthetic” are a crucial part of our humanity. Even the oldest known examples of <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Aesthetics-Rock-Art-Thomas-Heyd/dp/075463924X">rock and cave art served aesthetic</a> rather than utilitarian roles. Although aesthetics is often regarded as an ill-defined vague quality, <a href="https://blogs.uoregon.edu/richardtaylor/">research groups like mine</a> are using sophisticated techniques to quantify it – and its impact on the observer.</p>
<p>We’re finding that aesthetic images can induce staggering changes to the body, including <a href="http://doi.org/10.1162/leon.2006.39.3.245">radical reductions in the observer’s stress levels</a>. Job stress alone is estimated to cost American businesses <a href="http://www.businessnewsdaily.com/2267-workplace-stress-health-epidemic-perventable-employee-assistance-programs.html">many billions of dollars annually</a>, so studying aesthetics holds a huge potential benefit to society.</p>
<p>Researchers are untangling just what makes particular works of art or natural scenes visually appealing and stress-relieving – and one crucial factor is the presence of the repetitive patterns called fractals.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/163375/original/image-20170330-4592-167yg1n.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/163375/original/image-20170330-4592-167yg1n.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/163375/original/image-20170330-4592-167yg1n.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=309&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/163375/original/image-20170330-4592-167yg1n.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=309&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/163375/original/image-20170330-4592-167yg1n.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=309&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/163375/original/image-20170330-4592-167yg1n.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=388&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/163375/original/image-20170330-4592-167yg1n.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=388&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/163375/original/image-20170330-4592-167yg1n.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=388&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Are fractals the key to why Pollock’s work captivates?</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="http://www.apimages.com/metadata/Index/Pollock-Black-Paintings/cfc2766621b444ca83c6eb44a7bf651e/1/0">AP Photo/LM Otero</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Pleasing patterns, in art and in nature</h2>
<p>When it comes to aesthetics, who better to study than famous artists? They are, after all, the visual experts. My research group took this approach with <a href="https://www.moma.org/artists/4675">Jackson Pollock</a>, who rose to the peak of modern art in the late 1940s by pouring paint directly from a can onto horizontal canvases laid across his studio floor. Although battles raged among Pollock scholars regarding the meaning of his splattered patterns, many agreed they had an organic, natural feel to them.</p>
<p>My scientific curiosity was stirred when I learned that <a href="http://us.macmillan.com/thefractalgeometryofnature/benoitbmandelbrot/9780716711865">many of nature’s objects are fractal</a>, featuring patterns that repeat at increasingly fine magnifications. For example, think of a tree. First you see the big branches growing out of the trunk. Then you see smaller versions growing out of each big branch. As you keep zooming in, finer and finer branches appear, all the way down to the smallest twigs. Other examples of nature’s fractals include clouds, rivers, coastlines and mountains.</p>
<p>In 1999, my group used computer pattern analysis techniques to show that <a href="https://blogs.uoregon.edu/richardtaylor/files/2015/12/PollockScientificAmerican-2ees1wh.pdf">Pollock’s paintings are as fractal</a> as patterns found in natural scenery. Since then, more than 10 <a href="https://blogs.uoregon.edu/richardtaylor/2016/02/08/fractal-analysis-of-jackson-pollocks-poured-paintings/">different groups</a> have performed <a href="https://blogs.uoregon.edu/richardtaylor/2017/01/04/the-facts-about-pollocks-fractals/">various forms of fractal analysis</a> on his paintings. Pollock’s ability to express nature’s fractal aesthetics helps explain the enduring popularity of his work.</p>
<p>The impact of nature’s aesthetics is surprisingly powerful. In the 1980s, architects found that patients recovered more quickly from surgery when given <a href="http://dx.doi.org/10.1126/science.6143402">hospital rooms with windows looking out on nature</a>. Other studies since then have demonstrated that just looking at pictures of natural scenes can change the way a person’s autonomic nervous system <a href="http://dx.doi.org/10.1021/es305019p">responds to stress</a>.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/163339/original/image-20170330-4557-1tpeqb6.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/163339/original/image-20170330-4557-1tpeqb6.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/163339/original/image-20170330-4557-1tpeqb6.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=379&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/163339/original/image-20170330-4557-1tpeqb6.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=379&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/163339/original/image-20170330-4557-1tpeqb6.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=379&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/163339/original/image-20170330-4557-1tpeqb6.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=476&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/163339/original/image-20170330-4557-1tpeqb6.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=476&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/163339/original/image-20170330-4557-1tpeqb6.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=476&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Are fractals the secret to some soothing natural scenes?</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/ronancantwell/5230867503">Ronan</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/">CC BY-NC-ND</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>For me, this raises the same question I’d asked of Pollock: Are fractals responsible? Collaborating with psychologists and neuroscientists, <a href="https://blogs.uoregon.edu/richardtaylor/2016/02/03/human-physiological-responses-to-fractals-in-nature-and-art/">we measured people’s responses to fractals</a> found in nature (using photos of natural scenes), art (Pollock’s paintings) and mathematics (computer generated images) and discovered a universal effect we labeled “<a href="http://doi.org/10.1007/978-1-4939-3995-4_30">fractal fluency</a>.”</p>
<p>Through exposure to nature’s fractal scenery, people’s visual systems have adapted to efficiently process fractals with ease. We found that this adaptation occurs at many stages of the visual system, from the way our eyes move to which regions of the brain get activated. This fluency puts us in a comfort zone and so we enjoy looking at fractals. Crucially, <a href="http://doi.org/10.1068/p5918">we used EEG</a> to record the brain’s electrical activity and <a href="http://doi.org/10.1162/leon.2006.39.3.245">skin conductance techniques</a> to show that this aesthetic experience is accompanied by stress reduction of 60 percent – a surprisingly large effect for a nonmedicinal treatment. This physiological change even accelerates <a href="http://dx.doi.org/10.1126/science.6143402">post-surgical recovery rates</a>.</p>
<h2>Artists intuit the appeal of fractals</h2>
<p>It’s therefore not surprising to learn that, as visual experts, artists have been embedding fractal patterns in their works through the centuries and across many cultures. Fractals can be found, for example, in Roman, Egyptian, Aztec, Incan and Mayan works. My favorite examples of fractal art from more recent times include <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Etudes_turbulences_-_L%C3%A9onard_de_Vinci.jpg">da Vinci’s Turbulence</a> (1500), <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Great_Wave_off_Kanagawa2.jpg">Hokusai’s Great Wave</a> (1830), <a href="http://mathstat.slu.edu/escher/index.php/Escher's_Circle_Limit_Exploration">M.C. Escher’s Circle Series</a> (1950s) and, of course, <a href="http://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/488978?sortBy=Relevance&ft=Pollock&offset=0&rpp=20&pos=3">Pollock’s poured paintings</a>.</p>
<p>Although prevalent in art, the fractal repetition of patterns represents an artistic challenge. For instance, many people have attempted to fake Pollock’s fractals and failed. Indeed, our fractal analysis has <a href="http://doi.org/10.1038/439648a">helped identify fake Pollocks</a> in high-profile cases. Recent studies by others show that fractal analysis can <a href="http://doi.org/10.1504/IJART.2015.067389">help distinguish real from fake Pollocks</a> with a 93 percent success rate.</p>
<p>How artists create their fractals fuels the nature-versus-nurture debate in art: To what extent is aesthetics determined by automatic unconscious mechanisms inherent in the artist’s biology, as opposed to their intellectual and cultural concerns? In Pollock’s case, his fractal aesthetics resulted from an intriguing mixture of both. His fractal patterns originated from his body motions (specifically an <a href="http://doi.org/10.1007/s00221-008-1521-7">automatic process related to balance</a> known to be fractal). But he spent 10 years consciously refining his pouring technique to increase the visual complexity of these fractal patterns.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/163343/original/image-20170330-4557-1kk2sdc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/163343/original/image-20170330-4557-1kk2sdc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/163343/original/image-20170330-4557-1kk2sdc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=405&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/163343/original/image-20170330-4557-1kk2sdc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=405&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/163343/original/image-20170330-4557-1kk2sdc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=405&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/163343/original/image-20170330-4557-1kk2sdc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=509&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/163343/original/image-20170330-4557-1kk2sdc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=509&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/163343/original/image-20170330-4557-1kk2sdc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=509&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The Rorschach inkblot test relies on what you read in to the image.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Rorschach_blot_04.jpg">Hermann Rorschach</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Fractal complexity</h2>
<p>Pollock’s motivation for continually increasing the complexity of his fractal patterns became apparent recently when I studied the <a href="http://doi.org/10.1038/nature.2017.21473">fractal properties of Rorschach inkblots</a>. These abstract blots are famous because people see imaginary forms (figures and animals) in them. I explained this process in terms of the fractal fluency effect, which enhances people’s pattern recognition processes. The low complexity fractal inkblots made this process trigger-happy, fooling observers into seeing images that aren’t there.</p>
<p>Pollock disliked the idea that viewers of his paintings were distracted by such imaginary figures, which he called “extra cargo.” He intuitively increased the complexity of his works to prevent this phenomenon.</p>
<p>Pollock’s abstract expressionist colleague, <a href="https://www.moma.org/artists/3213">Willem De Kooning</a>, also painted fractals. When he was diagnosed with dementia, some art scholars called for his retirement amid concerns that that it would reduce the nurture component of his work. Yet, although they predicted a deterioration in his paintings, his <a href="http://www.sfgate.com/entertainment/article/APEX-OR-DECLINE-The-great-painter-Willem-de-3022569.php">later works</a> <a href="http://www.dekooning.org/the-artist/biography">conveyed a peacefulness</a> missing from his earlier pieces. Recently, the fractal complexity of his paintings was shown to <a href="https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2016/12/161229113520.htm">drop steadily as he slipped into dementia</a>. The study focused on seven artists with different neurological conditions and highlighted the potential of using art works as a new tool for studying these diseases. To me, the most inspiring message is that, when fighting these diseases, artists can still create beautiful artworks.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/163377/original/image-20170330-4576-1gise5y.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/163377/original/image-20170330-4576-1gise5y.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/163377/original/image-20170330-4576-1gise5y.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/163377/original/image-20170330-4576-1gise5y.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/163377/original/image-20170330-4576-1gise5y.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/163377/original/image-20170330-4576-1gise5y.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/163377/original/image-20170330-4576-1gise5y.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/163377/original/image-20170330-4576-1gise5y.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Recognizing how looking at fractals reduces stress means it’s possible to create retinal implants that mimic the mechanism.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-photo/detailed-photo-halved-backlit-blue-shell-98024468">Nautilus image via www.shutterstock.com.</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>My main research focuses on <a href="https://around.uoregon.edu/content/uo-idea-bio-inspired-implant-wins-900000-grant">developing retinal implants to restore vision</a> to victims of retinal diseases. At first glance, this goal seems a long way from Pollock’s art. Yet, it was his work that gave me the first clue to fractal fluency and the role nature’s fractals can play in keeping people’s stress levels in check. To <a href="http://www.iop.org/news/11/april/page_50684.html">make sure my bio-inspired implants induce the same stress reduction</a> when looking at nature’s fractals as normal eyes do, they closely mimic the retina’s design.</p>
<p>When I started my Pollock research, I never imagined it would inform artificial eye designs. This, though, is the power of interdisciplinary endeavors – thinking “out of the box” leads to unexpected but potentially revolutionary ideas.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/73255/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Richard Taylor receives funding from The Australian Research Council, The Research Council for Science Advancement, and The WM Keck Foundation.</span></em></p>
Fractals are patterns that repeat at increasingly fine magnifications. They turn up in the natural world and in artists’ work. Research suggests they contribute to making something aesthetically appealing.
Richard Taylor, Director of the Materials Science Institute and Professor of Physics, University of Oregon
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/71723
2017-03-28T07:59:30Z
2017-03-28T07:59:30Z
What is fiction good for in a post-truth world?
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/161597/original/image-20170320-9140-50hycz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Johanna Altmann / Shutterstock.com</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Ever since Plato <a href="http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/text?doc=Perseus%3Atext%3A1999.01.0168%3Abook%3D10%3Asection%3D595b">equated poetry with falsehood</a> in the fourth century BC, the value of fiction has been in doubt. No convincing case for its value has since been made, beyond the obvious pleasures experienced by readers and audiences.</p>
<p>Today, fiction in the form of narratives – or, more simply, stories – permeates almost every aspect of our culture, from entertainment to law, medicine, and identity. We are also in the age of post-truth politics, where telling a demonstrably false story can be more compelling than telling the truth. Could overexposure to fiction account for the devaluation of truth that dominated the recent presidential elections, where <a href="http://theconversation.com/post-truth-politics-and-the-us-election-why-the-narrative-trumps-the-facts-66480">both candidates lied</a> and the most extravagant liar won?</p>
<p>Philosophers, critics, and artists have long attempted to offset the potential dangers of fiction by proposing various links between the experience of fiction and competing conceptions of truth. The tradition of defending fiction was founded by Aristotle and includes Horace, Sir Philip Sidney, Dr Johnson, and Matthew Arnold. </p>
<p>Since the contribution of Friedrich Schiller at the end of 18th century, the theory has been known as <a href="https://schillerinstitute.org/fidelio_archive/2005/fidv14n01-02-2005SpSu/fidv14n01-02-2005SpSu_080-a_readers_guide_to_schillers_let.pdf">aesthetic education</a>. Such theorists argue that art provides an indirect but integral education in ethics, a moral education by aesthetic means. Contemporary advocates include <a href="https://vimeo.com/34600153">Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak</a> and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ocJ0zVmWMkg">Martha Nussbaum</a>. Of course, claims about the psychological and behavioural benefits of engaging with sophisticated and popular fictions vary wildly in strength.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/161600/original/image-20170320-9124-162kpmn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/161600/original/image-20170320-9124-162kpmn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=359&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/161600/original/image-20170320-9124-162kpmn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=359&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/161600/original/image-20170320-9124-162kpmn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=359&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/161600/original/image-20170320-9124-162kpmn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=451&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/161600/original/image-20170320-9124-162kpmn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=451&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/161600/original/image-20170320-9124-162kpmn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=451&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">What real, concrete value?</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Thomas Bethge/Shutterstock.com</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Empirical evidence</h2>
<p>The question of whether the ubiquity of narratives has devalued truth or enhanced morality prompts a further question: what exactly happens to us when we read books or watch films? There is a paucity of empirical evidence in this field. </p>
<p>The most <a href="http://theconversation.com/do-art-and-literature-cultivate-empathy-68478">frequently-quoted study</a> on the topic was published by psychologists <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/24091705">Evan Kidd and Emanuele Castano</a> in 2013. They conducted five different experiments on samples of between 72 and 356 participants, each of which was divided into two groups. One read short passages of literary fiction (understood as being complex or challenging) and the other short passages of nonfiction or popular fiction. </p>
<p>The results indicated that participants who had read the literary fiction performed significantly better on a theory of mind test – which measures the ability to understand the mental states of others, a precondition of empathy – than those who had read either nonfiction or popular fiction. </p>
<p>Sounds like it backs up the aesthetic education theory, right? But the limitations of the study have been <a href="http://www.slate.com/blogs/lexicon_valley/2013/10/29/empathy_gap_don_t_believe_that_widely_reported_study_in_science_about_literary.html">widely acknowledged</a>, and its validity in this case is also doubtful. Literary narratives are, like their theatrical and cinematic counterparts, designed to be experienced as a whole. We cannot assume that the benefits of the literary experience will simply be the sum of the experiences of its parts. The same objection applies to the <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/27642659">failed attempts</a> to replicate Kidd and Castano’s findings in 2016.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/162644/original/image-20170327-3298-l1ddmu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/162644/original/image-20170327-3298-l1ddmu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=420&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/162644/original/image-20170327-3298-l1ddmu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=420&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/162644/original/image-20170327-3298-l1ddmu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=420&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/162644/original/image-20170327-3298-l1ddmu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=528&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/162644/original/image-20170327-3298-l1ddmu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=528&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/162644/original/image-20170327-3298-l1ddmu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=528&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Does fictional violence engender real violence?</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">breakermaximus / Shutterstock.com</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>If the evidence for the effects of engaging with fiction is so limited in quantity and quality, it seems prudent to seek an answer from a comparable field in which there has been more research. The obvious example is the relation between video-game violence and aggression. Video-games are designed to entertain and may or may not cause aggression in players; fictions are designed for the same purpose and may devalue truth, enhance morality, or have no secondary effect at all. </p>
<p>In a multiple analysis published in 1998, Karen Dill and Jody Dill <a href="http://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S1359178997000013">claimed</a> that there was a link between exposure to video-game violence and aggression, but advised caution on the basis of the limited quantity and quality of studies published. </p>
<p>Then, in a multiple analysis published 25 years later, Malte Elson and Christopher Ferguson <a href="http://econtent.hogrefe.com/doi/abs/10.1027/1016-9040/a000147?journalCode=epp">lamented</a> both the continued lack of standardisation and the frequency with which academics and others made controversial claims that were not supported by the data. They found that the evidence for a causal link between video-games and aggression was at best inconclusive.</p>
<p>Given that the research in the video-game field has been extensive, and unearthed no answers, it is hardly surprising that so little is known about the effects of experiencing fiction.</p>
<h2>Counterfactual value</h2>
<p>Fiction is nonetheless valuable in at least one way: its falsehood. In representing undisguised untruth, fictions present what psychologists call counterfactual thinking and philosophers call possible worlds.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/9cZmRKP3BGw?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
</figure>
<p>In watching Amazon’s <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1740299/">The Man in the High Castle</a>, we experience a representation of what a world in which Germany had created the atomic bomb before America would look and sound like. Aside from its entertainment value in engaging audiences on sensory, imaginative, and emotional levels, the series provides a detailed example of how an America run by right-wing extremists might have looked and might look like in the future. In doing so, it highlights the significance of avoiding that possible future.</p>
<p>The truth value of fiction is in the various ways in which it enlightens by deviating from the truth. Undisguised fictions will continue to be of value, no matter how many fictions presidential candidates disguise as facts.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/71723/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Rafe McGregor does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Whether the ubiquity of fiction has devalued truth or enhanced morality has been in doubt for over 2,000 years.
Rafe McGregor, Lecturer in Criminology, Leeds Trinity University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/72921
2017-02-17T14:42:26Z
2017-02-17T14:42:26Z
Mathematics is beautiful (no, really)
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/156742/original/image-20170214-26003-26p6cd.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Fractals in stone by Jami Masjid.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Ankush.sabharwal/wikipedia</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/">CC BY-SA</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>For many people, memories of maths lessons at school are anything but pretty. Yet “beautiful” is a word that I and other mathematicians often use to describe our subject. How on earth can maths be beautiful – and does it matter?</p>
<p>For me, as a mathematician, it is hugely important. My enjoyment of the beauty of mathematics is part of what motivates me to study the subject. It is also a guide when I am working on a problem: if I think of a few strategies, I will choose the one that seems most elegant first. And if my solution seems clumsy then I will revisit it to try to make it more attractive.</p>
<p>I’ve just finished marking a pile of homework from my second-year mathematics undergraduates. I am struck by two students’ contrasting solutions to one problem. Both solutions are correct, both answer the question. And yet I much prefer one to the other. It’s not just that one is longer than the other, or that one is explained better than the other (both are described well, in fact).</p>
<p>The longer one doesn’t quite get to the heart of the matter, it’s a bit cluttered with unnecessary distractions. The other uses a different approach, which captures the essence of the ideas – it helps the reader to understand <em>why</em> this piece of mathematics works this way, not just that it does. For a mathematician, the “why” is critical, and we are always looking for arguments that reveal this.</p>
<p>Some cases of mathematical beauty are clear. <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fractal">Fractals</a>, for example, are mathematical sets of numbers – corresponding to shapes – that have striking self-similarity and that have inspired numerous artists.</p>
<h2>Less is more</h2>
<p>But what about less obvious cases? Let me try to give you an example. Perhaps you recognise the sequence of numbers 1, 3, 6, 10, 15, 21, 28, … This is a sequence that students often encounter at school: the <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/bitesize/ks3/maths/algebra/number_patterns/revision/5/">triangular numbers</a>. Each number in the sequence corresponds to the number of dots in a sequence of triangles.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/156836/original/image-20170214-19595-10z2ggr.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/156836/original/image-20170214-19595-10z2ggr.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=284&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/156836/original/image-20170214-19595-10z2ggr.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=284&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/156836/original/image-20170214-19595-10z2ggr.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=284&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/156836/original/image-20170214-19595-10z2ggr.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=357&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/156836/original/image-20170214-19595-10z2ggr.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=357&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/156836/original/image-20170214-19595-10z2ggr.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=357&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The six first triangular numbers: 1, 3, 6, 10, 15, 21.</span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Can we predict what the 1000th number in the sequence will be? There are many ways to tackle this question, and in fact unpicking the similarities and differences between these approaches is in itself both mathematical and enlightening. But here is one rather beautiful argument.</p>
<p>Imagine the 10th number in the sequence (because it’s easier to draw the picture than for the 1000th!). Let’s count the dots without counting the dots. We have a triangle of dots, with 10 in the bottom row and 10 rows of dots.</p>
<p>If we make another copy of that arrangement, we can rotate it and put it next to our original triangle of dots – so that the two triangles form a rectangle. This shape of dots will have 10 in the bottom row and 11 rows, so there are 10 x 11 = 110 dots in total (see figure below). Now we know that half of those were in our original triangle, so the 10th triangular number is 110/2 = 55. And we didn’t have to count them.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/156837/original/image-20170214-19631-6o051d.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/156837/original/image-20170214-19631-6o051d.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=327&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/156837/original/image-20170214-19631-6o051d.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=327&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/156837/original/image-20170214-19631-6o051d.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=327&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/156837/original/image-20170214-19631-6o051d.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=411&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/156837/original/image-20170214-19631-6o051d.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=411&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/156837/original/image-20170214-19631-6o051d.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=411&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The 10th triangular number x2.</span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The power of this mathematical argument is that we can painlessly generalise to any number – even without drawing the dots. We can do a thought experiment. The 1000th triangle in the sequence will have 1000 dots in the bottom row, and 1000 rows of dots. By making another copy of this and rotating it, we get a rectangle with 1000 dots in the bottom row and 1001 rows. Half of those dots were in the original triangle, so the 1000th triangular number is (1000 x 1001)/2 = 500500.</p>
<p>For me, this idea of drawing the dots, duplicating, rotating and making a rectangle is beautiful. The argument is powerful, it generalises neatly (to any size of triangle), and it reveals <em>why</em> the answer is what it is.</p>
<p>There are other ways to predict this number. One is to look at the first few terms of the sequence, guess a formula, and then prove that the formula does work (for example by using a technique called <a href="https://nrich.maths.org/4718">proof by induction</a>). But that doesn’t convey the same memorable explanation behind the formula. There is an economy to the argument with pictures of dots, a single diagram captures everything we need to know.</p>
<p>Here’s another argument that I find attractive. Let’s think about the sum below:</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/156840/original/image-20170214-19598-1l0bukb.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/156840/original/image-20170214-19598-1l0bukb.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=62&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/156840/original/image-20170214-19598-1l0bukb.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=62&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/156840/original/image-20170214-19598-1l0bukb.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=62&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/156840/original/image-20170214-19598-1l0bukb.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=78&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/156840/original/image-20170214-19598-1l0bukb.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=78&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/156840/original/image-20170214-19598-1l0bukb.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=78&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The harmonic series.</span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>This is the famous <a href="http://mathworld.wolfram.com/HarmonicSeries.html">harmonic series</a>. It turns out that it doesn’t equal a finite number – mathematicians say that the sum “diverges”. How can we prove that? It sounds difficult, but one elegant idea does the job.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/156841/original/image-20170214-19615-tapo77.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/156841/original/image-20170214-19615-tapo77.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=72&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/156841/original/image-20170214-19615-tapo77.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=72&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/156841/original/image-20170214-19615-tapo77.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=72&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/156841/original/image-20170214-19615-tapo77.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=91&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/156841/original/image-20170214-19615-tapo77.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=91&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/156841/original/image-20170214-19615-tapo77.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=91&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The harmonic series with grouped terms.</span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Here each group of fractions adds up to more than ½. We know that ⅓ is bigger than ¼. That means (⅓) + (¼) is bigger than (¼) + (¼), which equals ½. So by adding enough blocks, each bigger than ½, the sum gets bigger and bigger – we can beat any target we like. By adding an infinite number of them we will get an infinite sum. We have tamed the infinite, with a beautiful argument.</p>
<h2>A waiting game?</h2>
<p>These are not the most difficult pieces of mathematics. One of the challenges of mathematics is that tackling more sophisticated problems often means first tackling more sophisticated terminology and notation. I cannot find a piece of mathematics beautiful unless I first understand it properly – and that means it can take a while for me to appreciate the aesthetic qualities. </p>
<figure class="align-right ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/156766/original/image-20170214-25969-hhknqm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/156766/original/image-20170214-25969-hhknqm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=592&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/156766/original/image-20170214-25969-hhknqm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=592&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/156766/original/image-20170214-25969-hhknqm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=592&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/156766/original/image-20170214-25969-hhknqm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=744&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/156766/original/image-20170214-25969-hhknqm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=744&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/156766/original/image-20170214-25969-hhknqm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=744&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Can you appreciate the beauty of Kazimir Malevich’s ‘Black Square’?</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">wikipedia</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>I don’t think this unique to mathematics. There are pieces of music, buildings, pieces of visual art where I have not at first appreciated their beauty or elegance – and it is only by persevering, by grappling with the ideas, that I have come to perceive the beauty.</p>
<p>For me, one of the joys of teaching undergraduates is watching them develop their own appreciation of the beauty of mathematics. I’m going to see my second years this afternoon to go over their homework, and I already know that we’re going to have an interesting conversation about their different solutions – and that considering the aesthetic qualities will play a part in deepening their understanding of the mathematics.</p>
<p>School students can have just the same experience: when they’re given the opportunity to engage with rich questions, when they can play with mathematical ideas, when they have the chance to experience multiple strategies to the same question rather than just getting the answer in the back of the textbook and moving on. The mathematical ideas do not have to be university level, there are beautiful problems that are perfect for school students. Happily, there are many maths teachers and maths education projects that are helping students to have those experiences of the beauty of mathematics.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/72921/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Vicky Neale does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Are you sceptical about maths being stunning? Let this brave academic try to change your mind.
Vicky Neale, Whitehead Lecturer at the Mathematical Institute and Supernumerary Fellow at Balliol College, University of Oxford
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/46952
2016-09-01T17:10:34Z
2016-09-01T17:10:34Z
Watching sport is far more than just pure, dumb entertainment
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/136253/original/image-20160901-1012-891l71.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Great Britain's Mo Farah celebrates winning the gold in the men's 5000m at the Rio Olympics. </span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Lucy Nicholson/Reuters</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Another Olympics has ended, having successfully captivated a worldwide TV audience. Many viewers only watch sports like rowing, diving, javelin or table tennis once every four years. But the attraction of the event as the pinnacle of sporting competition is now well established. The Games have evolved into a spectacle – an extravaganza –- that can enthral even the casual viewer.</p>
<p>But underneath all the glitz and showbiz aspects there is a basic and coherent attraction to this human activity called sport. As I’ve outlined in my book <a href="https://books.google.co.za/books?id=uYfDAgAAQBAJ&pg=PT1&lpg=PT1&dq=stephen+mumford+watching+sport&source=bl&ots=Kr_KXqg7dF&sig=bdAj3TWAtud9rbVSXGuxFpItf_U&hl=en&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwiczJSz5O3OAhUMOsAKHXu8CqIQ6AEIUTAJ#v=onepage&q&f=false">Watching Sport</a>, we stay glued to TV screens for more than just pure, dumb entertainment. </p>
<p>Watching sport is a rational activity with aesthetic, emotional and ethical dimensions. It doesn’t just entertain us and help pass the time. It also has the capacity to enrich and improve our lives in many ways that are not always immediately obvious.</p>
<h2>Watching sport as an aesthetic experience</h2>
<p>In the first place, successful sports tend to be those with a distinctly aesthetic appeal. In this sense, sport can fulfil some of the same functions as the arts. The Olympics illustrates this point well. Sports spectators are often partisans, watching because they want to see their own favoured side win. But this is very often set aside during Olympic competition. Viewers will regularly watch gymnastics, swimming or the high jump even when no one from their own country is in the reckoning. </p>
<p>The casual sports enthusiast can pass hours watching gymnastics, for instance – immersed in the extension, power, strength, balance, suppleness and control of athletes he or she has never heard of from countries in which he or she has no special interest. </p>
<p>Clearly some sports have more aesthetic appeal than others although, with <a href="https://books.google.co.uk/books/about/In_Praise_of_Athletic_Beauty.html?id=_oMk3__gygcC&redir_esc=y&hl=en">study</a>, the aesthetic dimension of any sport can be found. And it is not as if the aesthetics of sport are achieved at the expense of its competitive dimension. After all, the participants’ aim is to win – not to entertain us aesthetically. But these two aspects are not in conflict. The greatest beauty is achieved through the striving for victory. </p>
<p>To win the high jump, for example, an athlete must have the most controlled technique, the strongest power, and extend his or her body to its full. These are all physical attributes that create awe as we see an athlete striving to fulfil the maximum human potential. </p>
<p>Every spectator is different, of course. People with different aesthetic sensibilities will be drawn to the athletic excellences of different sports. There are team sports such as hockey, for example, in which the aesthetic criteria applied are not directly applicable to individual sports. In addition to the individual contribution made by members of the team, success also depends on those players forming a coherent and well-functioning whole. There is an appreciation in seeing a whole emerge that seems more than the sum of the parts – as successful teams are. </p>
<h2>The emotional dimension</h2>
<p>It would be wrong to concentrate purely on the aesthetic dimension of sport in explaining its popularity. There is more that it can offer the viewer. It clearly also has the capacity to engage us emotionally, especially where we can see the significance of an achievement. </p>
<p>This may simply be down to us understanding the years of personal effort and sacrifice given by the athlete. But it could be broader than that. </p>
<p>The double-gold <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/sport/2016/aug/21/fourth-olympic-gold-adds-mo-farah-to-the-pantheon-of-all-time-greats">success</a> of British athlete Mo Farah provoked a strong emotional <a href="https://www.buzzfeed.com/simoncrerar/arise-sir-mo?utm_term=.lgAEQlrl44#.toQLKWwWnn">reaction</a>, not just in the UK. His victories come at a time when there is a rise in <a href="http://www.aljazeera.com/news/2016/06/brexit-increase-racist-attacks-eu-referendum-160628045317215.html">racism</a>, <a href="http://www.consented.co.uk/read/mo-farah-might-be-popular-now-but-muslim-immigrants-are-not-loved-by-britain/">Islamophobia</a> and <a href="http://www.slate.com/articles/news_and_politics/politics/2016/06/immigration_and_brexit_how_a_rising_tide_of_european_immigrants_fueled_the.html">anti-immigrant sentiment</a> across large parts of Europe, including the UK. </p>
<p>Yet the 33-year-old Farah, <a href="http://time.com/4452401/olympic-athletes-islam/">a practising Muslim</a>, has become one of the country’s greatest ever Olympians. Who could not be moved by this? Who could not understand its significance to the way we perceive our fellow human beings?</p>
<h2>A contest of vice and virtue</h2>
<p>The final feature of sport which commands our attention is its moral dimension. </p>
<p>Sporting encounters can be understood as contests of virtue and vice. A sporting virtue tends towards victory. A sporting vice tends towards defeat. There is much that we can learn from witnessing this battle of virtues that we can apply to our own lives, in non-sporting situations. </p>
<p>Sport is a safe environment in which to run a kind of moral experiment. The goals of sport carry no real importance. No one’s life is saved or lost by jumping over a high bar, for instance, or reaching a finishing line first. But what we learn from sport can then be applied outside of sport in the moral situations we face where an outcome really does matter. </p>
<p>As a spectator I might learn from sport, for instance, to never give up even when the odds are against me, because sometimes an unexpected success can still be achieved. This could be a very useful lesson for me in other circumstances.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/46952/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Stephen Mumford does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Watching sport is more than just an entertaining experience. As the 2016 Olympic Games again highlighted, it can enrich and improve our lives in many more complex ways.
Stephen Mumford, Professor of Metaphysics , Durham University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/59408
2016-06-08T17:03:56Z
2016-06-08T17:03:56Z
The five most surprising cosmetic surgery trends around the globe
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/123572/original/image-20160523-11020-3xhbon.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Chin up.</span> </figcaption></figure><p>Cosmetic procedures are now the surgery of want not need. The multi-billion dollar industry is represented on virtually all television channels and easily accessed online. Many nations have realised the potential for cosmetic tourism, which can be a significant import to a country’s GDP.</p>
<p>Cosmetic medicine and surgery has advanced tremendously over the past three decades since I trained as a plastic surgeon. High morbidity rates in procedures such as breast implant surgery, tummy tucks, aggressive facelifts or eyelid reductions, are now a thing of the past. And though some countries operate as destinations for those looking for cheaper (though not always properly regulated) procedures, some emerging markets are seeing a boom for particular operations. </p>
<p>Dubai, Thailand, South Korea, Mauritius, India, and also Iran are some notable examples. In the US, the best seller is the “mommy makeover” – a host of procedures that can include tummy tucks, breast implants and liposuction, designed to return women back to their pre-pregnancy bodies. The UK at least has realised that little is often better, especially over the long term.</p>
<h2>Limb lengthening in India</h2>
<figure class="align-left ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/123750/original/image-20160524-20530-1lmqgct.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/123750/original/image-20160524-20530-1lmqgct.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/123750/original/image-20160524-20530-1lmqgct.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/123750/original/image-20160524-20530-1lmqgct.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/123750/original/image-20160524-20530-1lmqgct.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/123750/original/image-20160524-20530-1lmqgct.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/123750/original/image-20160524-20530-1lmqgct.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Leg lengthening procedure: pretty painful.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Ellipse_Precice_Banner_Blue_04_PREVIEW.jpg">Wikimedia Commons</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In a bid to improve career and marriage prospects, painful limb lengthening procedures are on the rise in India and can add as much as three inches to someone’s height.</p>
<p>The principles have been adapted from techniques that plastic and orthopaedic surgeons use in major trauma or in children with stunted growth. Limbs can be encouraged to lengthen using pins and an <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ilizarov_apparatus">Llizarov frame</a>, which can be slowly (and painfully) adjusted. The section of bone supported by the frame is surgically “broken” and over subsequent weeks the frame is made longer. The gap that develops fills with new bone. </p>
<p>In elective surgery, bones that don’t fuse, because of chronic infection or poor wound healing, can lead to amputation. While the risk can be explained when trying to salvage a badly mauled limb, is it justified by the quest for beauty? Very debatable. And in India the industry is unregulated. As Amar Sarin, an orthopaedic surgeon in India, <a href="http://www.theguardian.com/world/2016/may/09/i-have-to-be-taller-the-unregulated-world-of-indias-limb-lengthening-industry">told the Guardian</a>:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>This is one of the most difficult cosmetic surgeries to perform, and people are doing it after just one or two months’ fellowship, following a doctor who is probably experimenting himself. There are no colleges, no proper training, nothing.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>A vulnerable public can be open to persuasion without thinking about the consequences and risks. </p>
<h2>South Korea: radical facial surgery</h2>
<p>The industry in South Korea is booming. Surgery is cheap, efficient, and excellent facilities have come out of the old American hospitals which now cater for the global medical tourism market. This overseas market is a significant contributor to the country’s GDP. </p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/F6d7YybxCS0?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
</figure>
<p>South Korea has the highest per capita rate of plastic surgery in the world, which has led to it being called <a href="http://uk.businessinsider.com/south-korea-is-the-plastic-surgery-capital-of-the-world-2015-9">the global capital for plastic surgery</a>. Facial surgery is widespread and used to create <a href="http://jezebel.com/5976202/i-cant-stop-looking-at-these-south-korean-women-whove-had-plastic-surgery">more V-shaped chins</a>, smaller noses (the second most common operation, perhaps because nasal bridges in Asia <a href="http://qz.com/138525/why-oakleys-asian-fit-sunglasses-arent-racist-just-science/">tend to be flatter</a> and it’s easy to insert implants) and <a href="http://www.techinsider.io/the-most-popular-plastic-surgery-in-korea-2015-10">to alter eye shapes</a>. South Korea has certainly discovered cosmetic procedures are a profitable business – whether for domestic or foreign patients. </p>
<h2>Brazilian bum, tum and boobs</h2>
<p>Brazil was the <a href="http://www.isaps.org/Media/Default/global-statistics/July%202015%20ISAPS%20Global%20Statistics%20Release%20-%20Final.pdf">second biggest performer</a> of cosmetic surgical and nonsurgical procedures worldwide in 2014 – its 10.2% share came only second to the US (20.1%). The majority of surgical requests are for “improvements” to breasts, abdomen and buttocks. </p>
<figure class="align-right ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/123784/original/image-20160524-25236-12d7q79.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/123784/original/image-20160524-25236-12d7q79.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=338&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/123784/original/image-20160524-25236-12d7q79.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=338&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/123784/original/image-20160524-25236-12d7q79.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=338&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/123784/original/image-20160524-25236-12d7q79.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/123784/original/image-20160524-25236-12d7q79.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/123784/original/image-20160524-25236-12d7q79.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Do they really need a butt lift?</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/armandolobos/5412236376">alobos Life/flickr</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Brazilians lead the world in aesthetic surgery developments and ideas, from new types of breast implants to Brazilian <a href="https://www.researchgate.net/publication/234086544_Medial_Advancement_of_Infraumbilical_Scarpa%27s_Fascia_Improves_Waistline_Definition_in_Brazilian_Abdominoplasty">abdominoplasty</a> – where excess flesh is removed from the abdomen – and the famous “Brazilian butt lift”. </p>
<p>To go with the butt lift, the Brazilians also developed buttock muscle exercises that can produce amazing results in addition to fat grafting and implants, especially for treating skin looseness after massive weight loss.</p>
<p>There are risks, however, including <a href="http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-3594781/Death-mother-two-29-following-liposuction-buttocks-augmentation-surgery-caused-fat-clots-lungs-heart.html">developing a fat embolism</a>, which can kill. In elective situations, it may not be worth it just to get the “J-Lo” look. </p>
<h2>Iran: nose jobs</h2>
<p>Cosmetic surgery is on the rise in Iran, so much so that it is now among the top countries for procedures. Liposuction and eyebrow pigmentation – where permanent tattoos are used to block in brows – are popular. But also nose jobs.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/125546/original/image-20160607-15021-pvlgwp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/125546/original/image-20160607-15021-pvlgwp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=461&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/125546/original/image-20160607-15021-pvlgwp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=461&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/125546/original/image-20160607-15021-pvlgwp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=461&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/125546/original/image-20160607-15021-pvlgwp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=579&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/125546/original/image-20160607-15021-pvlgwp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=579&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/125546/original/image-20160607-15021-pvlgwp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=579&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Trim nose.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="http://www.shutterstock.com/pic-370833005/stock-photo-beautiful-muslim-young-woman-in-darkness.html?src=k2vyoY_u5_DQADRtSYsmng-1-16">Shutterstock</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In a more conservative country where many women may dress more modestly, accentuating facial features can be one way to enhance beauty. Javad Amirizad, a member of the Iranian Association of Cosmetic and Plastic Surgeons, <a href="http://www.thenational.ae/arts-life/beauty/iran-leaps-into-worlds-top-10-countries-performing-plastic-surgery">told the AFP</a> that of the 40,000 annual cosmetic procedures in Iran, more than 60% are nose jobs. The dressings on noses after surgery, an increasingly common sight in Tehran, have <a href="https://www.vice.com/en_uk/read/shes-so-najoor-0000467-v21n10">even been nicknamed “bandages of honor”</a>. </p>
<h2>Western mons pubis</h2>
<figure class="align-right ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/123835/original/image-20160524-25226-1oexu4q.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/123835/original/image-20160524-25226-1oexu4q.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/123835/original/image-20160524-25226-1oexu4q.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/123835/original/image-20160524-25226-1oexu4q.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/123835/original/image-20160524-25226-1oexu4q.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/123835/original/image-20160524-25226-1oexu4q.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/123835/original/image-20160524-25226-1oexu4q.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Not such a good look.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="http://www.shutterstock.com/cat.mhtml?lang=en&language=en&ref_site=photo&search_source=search_form&version=llv1&anyorall=all&safesearch=1&use_local_boost=1&autocomplete_id=&search_tracking_id=8P2q8OBkZZ9LY3GpcLPbFg&searchterm=camel%20toe&show_color_wheel=1&orient=&commercial_ok=&media_type=images&search_cat=&searchtermx=&photographer_name=&people_gender=&people_age=&people_ethnicity=&people_number=&color=&page=1&inline=297985583">www.shutterstock.com</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Surgery for female genitalia includes the “designer vagina” and labial reduction – which <a href="https://theconversation.com/campaign-against-fgm-exposes-how-differently-we-view-our-own-obsessions-30543">some argue</a> comes close to being female genital mutilation (FGM) when it’s a cosmetic rather than a needed gynaecological procedure. And serious problems can occur if inappropriately performed. </p>
<p>What is becoming more popular though is Mons pubis reduction, which targets the area of skin in the pubic area. As we age, the tissues slacken and bulge and this can manifest in what has been called the “boy bulge crotch”. Some men who are not well endowed might not find it too problematic but some women <a href="http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-2956885/Mons-pubis-latest-body-feel-self-conscious-about.html">find it embarrassing</a>, especially when wearing swim suits. The “camel toe” effect can be significantly reduced by some form of liposuction and/or skin excision. </p>
<p>While cheap surgery is increasingly available, those seeking cosmetic procedures do need to take note of risks and make sure that regulatory procedures in their chosen destination are up to scratch.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/59408/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Jim Frame does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Cosmetic surgery booms are happening around the world. Here are some key augmentations.
Jim Frame, Professor of Aesthetic Plastic Surgery, Anglia Ruskin University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/59918
2016-06-02T15:02:48Z
2016-06-02T15:02:48Z
South Africa’s EFF: excellent politics of props and imagination
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/124774/original/image-20160601-2812-195bg57.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">The Economic Freedom Fighters recently launched their manifesto in Soweto. Party leader Julius Malema (waving) is the master of political theatre.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">EPA/Cornell Tukiri</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>With <a href="http://www.elections.org.za/content/Elections/2016-Municipal-Elections/Home/">local government elections</a> coming up in August 2016, South Africa’s biggest political parties recently launched their manifestos at mass rallies. The focal point was the stadium itself. Or, rather, the stadium become ἀμφιθέατρον (amphithéātron): a place for viewing politics from both sides.</p>
<p>An ancient philosophical quarrel is being rehearsed here. It is the quarrel on the uneasy relationship between truth and appearance, between rationality and feeling, that famously made Greek philosopher <a href="http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/plato/">Plato</a> expel the poets from his ideal city in his book, “The Republic”. It is what philosopher and cultural critic <a href="https://www.marxists.org/reference/archive/benjamin/">Walter Benjamin</a> called the fascist tendency to aestheticise the political. </p>
<p>If there is a spectacular political party in South African at the moment, then it is the <a href="http://www.sahistory.org.za/article/economic-freedom-fighters-eff">Economic Freedom Fighters </a>(EFF). And whether we love or loathe them, we sure enjoy talking about their provocative use of colour, dress, insignia and general theatricality.</p>
<p><a href="http://www.theatlantic.com/international/archive/2014/08/the-coded-clothes-of-south-africas-economic-freedom-fighters/375366/">Dressed</a> for parliament in their red overalls and hard hats, and domestic worker’s uniforms and <em>doeks</em> (head-wrappings), the EFF distinguished themselves from their suit-and-tied political rivals by performing their politics as a politics for the dispossessed and marginalised. At rallies, their supporters proudly don the party’s red berets, which you can order <a href="http://effighters.org.za/merchandise">online</a>. They make for a powerful visual display that signals a militant and unapologetically confrontational yet disciplined political intent.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/124786/original/image-20160601-1955-ajxg5o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/124786/original/image-20160601-1955-ajxg5o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=411&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/124786/original/image-20160601-1955-ajxg5o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=411&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/124786/original/image-20160601-1955-ajxg5o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=411&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/124786/original/image-20160601-1955-ajxg5o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=516&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/124786/original/image-20160601-1955-ajxg5o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=516&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/124786/original/image-20160601-1955-ajxg5o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=516&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">MPs of the EFF outside South Africa’s parliament.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">EPA/Nic Bothhma</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>The meaning of the red berets</h2>
<p>What does the EFF’s <a href="http://repository.up.ac.za/dspace/bitstream/handle/2263/51821/Mbete_Economic_2015.pdf?sequence=1&isAllowed=y">political aesthetic</a> really signify though? Can we, for instance, read their signature red berets for a deeper insight into their politics? Or do these kinds of paraphernalia carry no actual political weight? </p>
<p>The answer to this question is the philosopher’s (perhaps infamous) “yes and no”. For it all, of course, depends on what we mean by “politics”, “aesthetic” and “significance”.</p>
<p>To cut a long conceptual elaboration short, however, let us look at one of the best ways to conceive of the relationship between the aesthetic and the political. It comes in the form of Paul Ricoeur’s <a href="http://link.springer.com/article/10.1007%2Fs10746-014-9339-8">philosophy of the imagination</a>.</p>
<p>The aesthetic and political dimensions of our lives intersect at the point where the social imagination does most of its work. That is the mechanism that makes the political bond we have with others available in the first place.</p>
<h2>The capacity to imagine</h2>
<p>A large part of our sociopolitical lives is necessarily imaginary. That is because we cannot engage in face-to-face interactions with all other selves in a nation-state or even a large town. Neither can we engage in face-to-face interaction with every institutionalised system of authority in large, complex human societies. </p>
<p>Our capacity to imagine allows us to travel mentally through time and space at extraordinary speed and in surprising depth. This is possible, says Ricoeur, only because of the imagination’s capacity for active mediation. In other words: its ability to produce “works” that we can decipher; “props” that we can play with.</p>
<p>In the case of political aesthetic, the sociopolitical imaginary gifts us with the props of “ideology” and “utopia”. Those are two works of the imagination that present us with imaginative variations on the theme of citizenship. </p>
<p>As political animals, the fulfilment and dissatisfaction of our needs hinge upon the versions of citizenship that are available to us. It is the figure of the citizen who alone truly contests and receives social recognition; the genuine citizen alone who contests and receives (re)distributed economic and legal benefits and rights.</p>
<p>The political reality of citizenship mediated by the political imaginary can take an “ideological” form. Through this form the inclusion of certain people as citizens is strengthened and systems of authority legitimised. It can also take a “utopian” form, through which the exclusion of certain people as citizens is questioned and systems of authority delegitimised.</p>
<h2>A prop in a serious adult game</h2>
<p>The red beret is a prop in this very serious adult game. Just like any prop, its significance is therefore inextricably tied to the game itself. </p>
<p>In the game of “figuring” South African citizenship, the EFF gives us a political aesthetic that makes those people who have actually been excluded from full citizenship visible and audible. Their “improper” <a href="http://www.news24.com/SouthAfrica/News/Dont-tell-us-what-to-wear-EFF-tells-Parliament-20151005">dress</a> in parliament says: imagine me, the miner, and me, the maid, as a real citizen, equal to any other, with equal political significance to any member of parliament. How dare anyone, and especially the ruling ANC, proclaim that the black labourers on whose backs this country was built are “improper” in the house of parliament?</p>
<p>Criticising the EFF’s parliamentary insignia for not being decorous enough thus entrenches the major divide characterising South Africa post-apartheid. There are the few for whom democracy brought or further fortified full citizenship. Then there are the majority for whom the right to vote has yet to give them access to all the benefits and rights of citizenship proper.</p>
<p>More than two decades after the official end of apartheid, the <a href="http://ewn.co.za/2014/06/27/OPINION-Africa-Check-SAs-unemployment-rates">broad unemployment rate</a> hovers at close to 40%, while more than half of all South Africans’ monthly income falls below the upper-bound poverty line.</p>
<p>To counter this stalemate, the EFF uses its political aesthetic to draw on <a href="http://www.dailymaverick.co.za/article/2016-05-02-eff-manifesto-a-radical-reinvention-of-ancs-failed-cadre-deployment-policy/#.V070Efl97IU">imaginaries</a> of war, battle, masculinity and militancy. This says, “imagine us as those who are no longer helpless, those who no longer talk but do.” And against an ageist, patriarchal tradition, “imagine us no longer as boys, but as men who are ready to lead.”</p>
<figure class="align-left ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/124778/original/image-20160601-1923-1jsiher.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/124778/original/image-20160601-1923-1jsiher.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/124778/original/image-20160601-1923-1jsiher.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/124778/original/image-20160601-1923-1jsiher.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/124778/original/image-20160601-1923-1jsiher.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/124778/original/image-20160601-1923-1jsiher.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/124778/original/image-20160601-1923-1jsiher.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">EFF leader Julius Malema leaves parliament with his party MPs after disrupting President Jacob Zuma State of the Nation address on February 11 2016.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">EPA/Schalk van Zuydam</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Then there is also, of course, the EFF’s general theatricality. Theirs is a type of theatricality that is finely choreographed – bitingly rude when speaking truth to power and perfectly poised when presenting their claims to authority as the truth.</p>
<p><a href="http://www.sahistory.org.za/people/julius-sello-malema">Julius Malema</a>, the party’s commander-in-chief, can interrupt parliamentary proceedings. He can threaten the state with violence, and make rude jokes and comments about other politicians. He can do this while simultaneously exhorting his followers to remain disciplined, to <a href="http://www.dailymaverick.co.za/article/2015-10-28-eff-marches-this-isnt-a-mickey-mouse-organisation/#.V072pfl97IU">march without violence</a>, or even much display of any emotion whatsoever, to major centres of capital and economic power in Johannesburg.</p>
<p>As they delegitimise current systems of power, they leave their parliamentary stage in <a href="http://www.timeslive.co.za/sundaytimes/stnews/2016/05/18/IN-PICTURES-Fists-fly-as-EFF-ejected-from-Parliament">chaos</a>. As they legitimise their incumbent system of political rule, they fill an entire stadium with disciplined bodies dressed in uniform.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/zH1ZIumH96s?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">EFF leader Julius Malema taking on President Jacob Zuma in parliament.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>A new social order</h2>
<p>We can say, then, that the EFF is presenting us with a utopian imaginary through which the possibility of a new social order emerges in force. This is excellent politics. Yet, there is still – and always will be – a gap between possibility and actuality. Ricoeur speaks of the “<a href="http://culture.pl/en/article/paul-ricoeur-a-political-paradox">political paradox</a>”, or the inescapable fact of power and its intertwinement with rationality. </p>
<p>The positive function of the utopian imaginary becomes sick as soon as it deludes itself with the impossible dream of a social order without any form of exclusion, and no systems of power. Authoritarianism and oppression are therefore not alien to utopianism. The apartheid state’s utopian projection of a separate-but-equal multiracial society, for instance, is synonymous today with racial hatred and oppression instead. And so are most of the various communist utopias around the globe.</p>
<figure class="align-right ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/124781/original/image-20160601-1951-yw0msw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/124781/original/image-20160601-1951-yw0msw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=416&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/124781/original/image-20160601-1951-yw0msw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=416&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/124781/original/image-20160601-1951-yw0msw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=416&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/124781/original/image-20160601-1951-yw0msw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=523&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/124781/original/image-20160601-1951-yw0msw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=523&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/124781/original/image-20160601-1951-yw0msw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=523&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Policemen after firing shots at protesting miners in August 2012 at a platinum mine 100km from Johannesburg. The event, known as the ‘Marikana Massacre’, left 34 mineworkers dead.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Reuters/Siphiwe Sibeko</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Yet, the ruling ANC continues to enforce its increasingly unbelievable imaginary on citizens – entrenching growing exclusion and legitimising ever more repressive power. The state’s slaughter of striking mineworkers at <a href="http://www.sahistory.org.za/article/marikana-massacre-16-august-2012">Marikana</a> in August 2012 stands out here as perhaps the most dramatic instance of this. The result is that the counter-force of the EFF’s performance of possibility strengthens its hold on our political imagination.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/59918/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Candess Kostopoulos received funding from
the National Research Foundation for doctoral research on Paul Ricoeur.
</span></em></p>
Red berets, hard hats, overalls and domestic workers’ uniforms have become a prominent part of South African politics. But these are more than just props for the EFF political party.
Candess Kostopoulos, Associate Lecturer in Philosophy of Education, University of the Witwatersrand
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.