From the sublime to the subliminal: Fear, awe and wonder in international politics

Key events in international politics, such as terrorist attacks, can be characterised as sublime: our minds clash with phenomena that supersede our cognitive abilities, triggering a range of powerful emotions, such as pain, fear and awe. Encounters with the sublime allow us an important glimpse into the contingent and often manipulative nature of representation. For centuries, philosophers have sought to learn from these experiences, but in political practice the ensuing insights are all too quickly suppressed and forgotten. The prevailing tendency is to react to the elements of fear and awe by reimposing control and order. We emphasise an alternative reaction to the sublime, one that explores new moral and political opportunities in the face of disorientation. But we also stress that we do not need to be dislocated by dramatic events to begin to wonder about the world. Moving from the sublime to the subliminal, we explore how it is possible to acquire the same type of insight into questions of representation and contingency by engaging more everyday practices of politics.

Dress for Dissent: Reading the Almost Unreadable

The changing ways of clothing in Australia, which has communicated disaffection within the public sphere, is enquired. The relationship between clothes as protested in everyday public life, and those exceptional, socially disruptive clothes on view at specific protest gatherings, are also explored. It is shown that dissident dress in the 1980s demonstrated a greater degree of solidarity in its radical difference from mainstream dress of 2000s. It is suggested that building on reconceptualised notion of protest dressing as process not fixity, the relationship of dissident dress to the mainstream has become, for the most part, less dichotomous.

An everyday nostalgia: Memory and the fictions of belonging

In 1984, George Orwell presented the future as a dystopian vision, where everyday existence was governed and redefined by an oppressive regime. Winston Smith's daily duties at the Ministry of Truth involved the invention, rewriting and erasing of fragments of history as a means of perpetuating contentment, uniformity and control. History, as Orwell described it in the novel 'was a palimpsest, scraped clean and reinscribed exactly as often as was necessary.' More that a quarter of a century after the publication of 1984, Michel Foucault discussed the cinematic representation and misrepresentation of French history and identity in terms of what he called the manipulation of 'popular memory'. In what was tantamount to a diluted version of Orwell's palimpsestic histories, Foucault stated that 'people are not shown what they were, but what they must remember having been.' This paper will investigate notions of memory, identity and the everyday through a discussion of the community of Celebration in Florida. Conceived in the 1990s, Celebration was designed around a fictionalised representation of pre 1940s small town America, using nostalgia for a mythologised past to create a sense of comfort, community and conformity among its residents. Adapting issues raised by Orwell, Foucault and Baudrillard, this paper will discuss the way in which architecture, like film and literature, can participate in what Foucault discussed as the manipulation of popular memory, inducing and exploiting a nostalgia for an everyday past that that never really existed.

The politics and ethics of relocated art

At the end of Word War II, Soviet occupation forces removed countless art objects from German soil. Some of them were returned during the 1950s, but most either disappeared for good or were stored away secretly in cellars of Soviet museums. The Cold War then covered the issue with silence. After the collapse of the Soviet Union, museums in St Petersburg and Moscow started to exhibit some of the relocated art for the first time in half a century. The unusual quality of the paintings-mostly impressionist masterpieces-not only attracted the attention of the international art community, but also triggered a diplomatic row between Russia and Germany. Both governments advanced moral and legal claims to ownership. To make things even more complicated, many of the paintings once belonged to private collectors, some of whom were Jews. Their descendants also entered the dispute. The basic premise of this article is that the political and ethical dimensions of relocated art can be understood most adequately by eschewing a single authorial standpoint. Various positions, sometimes incommensurable ones, are thus explored in an attempt to outline possibilities for an ethics of representation and a dialogical solution to the international problem that relocated art has become.