Stripping Sight Bare : Alison Jones’ ‘Portraits by Proxy’

In this paper I analyse UK artist Alison Jones’ sonic interventions Portrait of the Artist by Proxy (2008), Voyeurism by Proxy (2008) and Art, Lies and Audio Tapes (2009). In Portrait of the Artist by Proxy, Jones – who, due to deteriorating vision, has not seen her reflection in a mirror in years – asks and trusts participants to audio-describe her own image back to her. In Voyeurism by Proxy, Jones asks participants to audio-describe erotic drawings by Gustav Klimt. In Art, Lies and Audio Tapes, Jones asks participants to audio-describe other artworks, such as W.F. Yeames’ And When Did You Last see Your Father?. In these portraits by proxy, Jones opens her image, and other images, to interpretation. In doing so, Jones draws attention to the way sight is privileged as a mode of access to fixed, fundamental truths in Western culture – a mode assumed to be untainted by filters that skew perception of the object. “In a culture where vision is by far the dominant sense,” Jones says, “and as a visual artist with a visual impairment, I am reliant on audio-description …Inevitably, there are limitations imposed by language, time and the interpreter’s background knowledge of the subject viewed, as well as their personal bias of what is deemed important to impart in their description” . In these works, Jones strips these background knowledges, biases and assumptions bare. She reveals different perceptions, as well as tendencies or censor, edit or exaggerate descriptions. In this paper, I investigate how, by revealing unconscious biases, Jones’ works renders herself and her participants vulnerable to a change of perception. I also examine how Jones’ later editing of the audio-descriptions allows her to show the instabilities of sight, and, in Portrait of the Artist by Proxy, to reclaim authorship of her own image.

Collective equipments of power: The road and the city

A year ago, I became aware of the historical existence of the group CERFI— Le centre d’etudes, de recherches, et de formation institutionelles, or The Study Center for Institutional Research and Formation. CERFI emerged in 1967 under the hand of Lacanian psychiatrist and Trotskyite activist Félix Guattari, whose antonymous journal Recherches chronicled the group’s subversive experiences, experiments, and government-sponsored urban projects. It was a singularly bizarre meeting of the French bureaucracy with militant activist groups, the French intelligentsia, and architectural and planning practitioners at the close of the ‘60s. Nevertheless, CERFI’s analysis of the problems of society was undertaken precisely from the perspective of the state, and the Institute acknowledged a “deep complicity between the intellectual and statesman ... because the first critics of the State, are officials themselves!”1 CERFI developed out of FGERI (The Federation of Groups for Institutional Study and Research), started by Guattari two years earlier. While FGERI was created for the analysis of mental institutions stemming from Guattari’s work at La Borde, an experimental psychiatric clinic, CERFI marks the group’s shift toward urbanism—to the interrogation of the city itself. Not only a platform for radical debate on architecture and the city, CERFI was a direct agent in the development of urban planning schemata for new towns in France. 2 CERFI’s founding members were Guattari, the economist and urban theorist François Fourquet, feminist philosopher Liane Mozère, and urban planner and editor of Multitides Anne Querrien—Guattari’s close friend and collaborator. The architects Antoine Grumback, Alain Fabre, Macary, and Janine Joutel were also members, as well as urbanists Bruno Fortier, Rainier Hoddé, and Christian de Portzamparc. 3 CERFI was the quintessential social project of post-‘68 French urbanism. Located on the Far Left and openly opposed to the Communist Party, this Trotskyist cooperative was able to achieve what other institutions, according to Fourquet, with their “customary devices—the politburo, central committee, and the basic cells—had failed to do.”4 The decentralized institute recognized that any formal integration of the group was to “sign its own death warrant; so it embraced a skein of directors, entangled, forming knots, liquidating all at once, and spinning in an unknown direction, stopping short and returning back to another node.” Allergic to the very idea of “party,” CERFI was a creative project of free, hybrid-aesthetic blocs talking and acting together, whose goal was none other than the “transformation of the libidinal economy of the militant revolutionary.” The group believed that by recognizing and affirming a “group unconscious,” as well as their individual unconscious desires, they would be able to avoid the political stalemates and splinter groups of the traditional Left. CERFI thus situated itself “on the side of psychosis”—its confessed goal was to serve rather than repress the utter madness of the urban malaise, because it was only from this mad perspective on the ground that a properly social discourse on the city could be forged.