Radical interiors: Cindy Sherman's ‘Sex pictures’ and Kathy Acker's 'My mother: demonology'

In 1989, the American visual artist Cindy Sherman produced her ‘Sex Pictures’, a number of photographic images of two medical mannequins whose bodies had been dismembered and reconstructed to form abstract configurations that alluded to pornographic poses. Sherman's series was a response to the National Endowment for the Arts controversy, in which American artists such as Andres Serrano and the late Robert Mapplethorpe, whose work was considered obscene by the Republican Congress, were censored. Many artists in the culture-war period had their grants rescinded. The American avant-garde writer Kathy Acker published My Mother: Demonology in 1993. A prominent concern of Acker's in the work is what she termed her ‘writing freedom’ in a climate of cultural expurgation by the Republican elite. In particular, Acker was worried that she was ‘internalizing certain censorships’. This article addresses Sherman's and Acker's work in a comparative context to explore, through the theoretical work of Julia Kristeva, the ways in which their responses to a climate of political censorship can be read as forms of intimate revolt. Kristeva's notion of ejection—the act of placing something beyond the scope of the possible—transpires as ‘a condition of art's creation’ in Sherman's and Acker's work. Acker and Sherman use the pornographic reference in their work to disrupt and dislocate the narrative and image from convention in order to de-eroticize the body, against heteronormativity's terms, and empower the female sex organs. Eversion—that is, in Sherman's and Acker's works, the act of turning the institutional and maternal body inside out—emerges as a mode of resistance to the danger of the writer and the artist internalizing cultural restrictions. The everted body creates a site of radical interiority which becomes the (impossible) site for the radical (re-)embodiment of the feminine subject.

Towards an Asynchronous Cinema: how can the asynchronous use of sound in artists' moving image underpin the creation of dialectic tension between the audio, the visual and the audience?

This PhD by publication examines selected practice-based audio-visual works made by the author over a ten-year period, placing them in a critical context. Central to the publications, and the focus of the thesis, is an exploration of the role of sound in the creation of dialectic tension between the audio, the visual and the audience. By first analysing a number of texts (films/videos and key writings) the thesis locates the principal issues and debates around the use of audio in artists’ moving image practice. From this it is argued that asynchronism, first advocated in 1929 by Pudovkin as a response to the advent of synchronised sound, can be used to articulate audio-visual relationships. Central to asynchronism’s application in this paper is a recognition of the propensity for sound and image to adhere, and in visual music for there to be a literal equation of audio with the visual, often married with a quest for the synaesthetic. These elements can either be used in an illusionist fashion, or employed as part of an anti-illusionist strategy for realising dialectic. Using this as a theoretical basis, the paper examines how the publications implement asynchronism, including digital mapping to facilitate innovative reciprocal sound and image combinations, and the asynchronous use of ‘found sound’ from a range of online sources to reframe the moving image. The synthesis of publications and practice demonstrates that asynchronism can both underpin the creation of dialectic, and be an integral component in an audio-visual anti-illusionist methodology.

How the sublime became "now": time, modernity and aesthetics in Lyotard's rewriting of Kant

Writing in the late 1980s, Nancy gives as examples of the "recent fashion for the sublime" not only the theoreticians of Paris, but the artists of Los Angeles, Berlin, Rome, and Tokyo. At the beginning of the twenty-first century, the sublime may of course no longer seem quite so "now" as it did back then, whether in North America, Europe, or Japan. Simon Critchley, for one, has suggested that, at least as regards the issue of its conceptual coupling to "postmodernism," the "debate" concerning the sublime "has become rather stale and the discussion has moved on." Nonetheless, if that debate has indeed "moved on"-and thankfully so-it is not without its remainder, particularly in the very contemporary context of a resurgence of interest in explicitly philosophical accounts of art, in the wake of an emergent critique of cultural studies and of the apparent waning of poststructuralism's influence-a resurgence that has led to a certain "return to aesthetics" in recent Continental philosophy and to the work of Kant, Schelling, and the German Romantics. Moreover, as Nancy's precise formulations suggest, the "fashion" [mode] through which the sublime "offers itself"-as "a break within or from aesthetics"-clearly contains a significance that Critchley's more straightforward narration of shifts in theoretical chic cannot encompass. At stake in this would be the relation between the mode of fashion and art's "destiny" within modernity itself, from the late eighteenth century onwards. Such a conception of art's "destiny," as inextricably linked to that of the sublime, is not unique to recent French theory. In a brief passage in Aesthetic Theory, Adorno also suggests that the "sublime, which Kant reserved exclusively for nature, later became the historical constituent of art itself.... [I]n a subtle way, after the fall of formal beauty, the sublime was the only aesthetic idea left to modernism." As such, although the term has its classical origins in Longinus, its historical character for "us," both Nancy and Adorno argue, associates it specifically with the emergence of the modern. As another philosopher states: "It is around this name [of the sublime] that the destiny of classical poetics was hazarded and lost; it is in this name that ... romanticism, in other words, modernity, triumphed."

Conversions of Relief: on the perception of depth in drawings

Of the many ways in which depth can be intimated in drawings, perspective has undoubtedly been one of the most frequently examined. But there is also an equally rich history associated with other forms of pictorial representation. Alternatives to perspective became particularly significant in the early twentieth century as artists and architects, intent on throwing off the conventions of their predecessors, looked to new ways of depicting depth. In architecture, this tendency was exemplified by Modernism’s preference for parallel projection – most notably axonometric and oblique. The use of these techniques gave architects the opportunity to convey a new and uniquely modern form of spatial expression. At once shallow and yet expansive, a key feature of these drawings was their ability to support perceptual ambiguity. This paper will consider the philosophy and science of vision, out of which these preoccupations emerged. In this context, the nineteenth-century discovery of stereopsis and the invention of the stereoscope will be used to illustrate the way in which attempts to test the limits of spatial perception led to an opening up of visual experience; and provided a definition of visual experience that could encompass the representational ambiguities later exploited by the early twentieth-century avant-garde.