Spaces of observation and obscurity: cinematic prisons of light and dark

In The Eye of Power, Foucault delineated the key concerns surrounding hospital architecture in the latter half of the eighteenth century as being the ‘visibility of bodies, individuals and things'. As such, the ‘new form of hospital' that came to be developed ‘was at once the effect and support of a new type of gaze'. This was a gaze that was not simply concerned with ways of minimising overcrowding or cross-contamination. Rather, this was a surveillance intended to produce knowledge about the pathological bodies contained within the hospital walls. This would then allow for their appropriate classification. Foucault went on to describe how these principles came to be applied to the architecture of prisons. This was exemplified for him in the distinct shape of Bentham's panopticon. This circular design, which has subsequently become an often misused synonym for a contemporary culture of surveillance, was premised on a binary of the seen and the not-seen. An individual observer could stand at the central point of the circle and observe the cells (and their occupants) on the perimeter whilst themselves remaining unseen. The panopticon in its purest form was never constructed, yet it conveys the significance of the production of knowledge through observation that became central to institutional design at this time and modern thought more broadly. What is curious though is that whilst the aim of those late eighteenth century buildings was to produce wellventilated spaces suffused with light, this provoked an interest in its opposite. The gothic movement in literature that was developing in parallel conversely took a ‘fantasy world of stone walls, darkness, hideouts and dungeons…' as its landscape (Vidler, 1992: 162). Curiously, despite these modern developments in prison design, the façade took on these characteristics. The gothic imagination came to describe that unseen world that lay behind the outer wall. This is what Evans refers to as an architectural ‘hoax'. The façade was taken to represent the world within the prison walls and it was the façade that came to inform the popular imagination about what occurred behind it. The rational, modern principles ordering the prison became conflated with the meanings projected by and onto the façade. This confusion of meanings have then been repeated and reenforced in the subsequent representations of the prison. This is of paramount importance since it is the cinematic and televisual representation of the prison, as I argue here and elsewhere, that maintain this erroneous set of meanings, this ‘hoax'.

Ghost/Machine: cinema in a digital age

Cinema, with its passive cinematic apparatus and linear narrative is often characterised as a contrast to new media narrative strategies, yet from Vertov’s Man with a Movie Camera to Mike Figgis’ TimeCode and Wong Kar Wei’s 2046 cinema provides narrative strategies and spatial conceptualisations which prefigure or are contiguous with new media environments. Both our perception of what cyberspace constitutes and the technology that actualises those perceptions arise out of and are driven by fantasy and desire. This paper will explore the metaphors used to represent and understand new media aesthetics through cinematic representations of new media environments. Two key themes relevant to new media aesthetics emerge. Irigaray, Haraway, and Grosz are used to explore the de-essentialising haptic and penetrative potential of new technologies and their ability to collapse the boundary between the body and the machine. The second fantasy, of new media as a liminal space that expresses the memorialising function of technology and its relation to mourning, is analysed using Benjamin, Burgin and Rutsky. These altered spaces and perceptions of the body and memory of the post-cinematic subject are illustrated through an analysis of Gondry’s Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and Jonze’s Being John Malkovich. [From the Author]

Jung as a writer

Jung as a Writer traces a relationship between Jung and literature by analysing his texts using the methodology of literary theory. This investigation serves to illuminate the literary nature of Jung’s writing in order to shed new light on his psychology and its relationship with literature as a cultural practice. Jung employed literary devices throughout his writing, including direct and indirect argument, anecdote, fantasy, myth, epic, textual analysis and metaphor. Susan Rowland examines Jung’s use of literary techniques in several of his works, including Anima and Animus, On the Nature of the Psyche, Psychology and Alchemy and Synchronicity and describes Jung’s need for literature in order to capture in writing his ideas about the unconscious. Jung as a Writer succeeds in demonstrating Jung’s contribution to literary and cultural theory in autobiography, gender studies, postmodernism, feminism, deconstruction and hermeneutics and concludes by giving a new culturally-orientated Jungian criticism. The application of literary theory to Jung’s works provides a new perspective on Jungian Psychology that will be of interest to anyone involved in the study of Jung, Psychoanalysis, literary theory and cultural studies. [From the Publisher]

Spank performance tour [at National Review of Live Art 2008]

Spank is a duet about two women’s journeys as they play out different roles. One woman recalls stinging anecdotes marked by intimacy, jealousy, fear and fantasy from her childhood in the 70s suburbs – round the corner from where Mike Leigh would film Life Is Sweet. Her Double (projected on screen) reads from a newspaper about an event that punctured the local community, creating an enduring cultural scar, her voice lacking emotion. Both women must eventually face one another and ask, who is deceiving whom? The consequences of guilt and shame and the unstable shift from private memory to public consequence is inevitable and deadly.[ABSTRACT BY THE AUTHOR]