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'.

Super-villains of the "real world": the political use of the characterization of villains in Chistopher Nolan's "Dark Knight Trilogy"

It is almost a tradition that celluloid (or digital) villains are represented with some characteristics that remind us the real political enemies of the producer country of the film, or even enemies within the country according to the particular ideology that sustains the film. The case of Christopher Nolan The Dark Knight trilogy, analyzed here, is representative of this trend for two reasons. First, because it gets marked by political radicalization conducted by the US government after the attack of September 11, 2001. Secondly, because it offers a profuse gallery of villains who are outside the circle of friends as the new doctrine “either with us or against us” opened by George Bush for the XXI century. This gallery includes from the very terrorists who justify the War on Terror (Ra's al Ghul, the Joker), to the “radical left” (Bane, Talia al Ghul) including liberal politicians (Harvey Dent), and corrupt that take advantage of the softness of the law to commit crimes with impunity (Dr. Crane, the Scarecrow).

A polysaccharide extracted from sphagnum moss as antifungal agent in archaeological conservation

On the basis of the well-known preservative properties of Sphagnum moss, a potential opportunity to use moss polysaccharides (Sphagnan) in art conservation was tested. Polysaccharides were extracted from the moss (S. palustre spp.) in the amount of 4.1% of the Sphagnum plant dry weight. All lignocelluloses were removed from this extract as a result of the treatment of the moss cellulose with sodium chlorite. The extracted polysaccharide possessed a strong acidic reaction (pH 2.8) and was soluble in water and organic solvents. The extract was tested on laboratory bacterial cultures by the disk-diffusion method. The antibacterial effect was demonstrated for E. coli and P. aeruginosa (both gram-negative) while Staphylococcus aurelus (gram-positive) was shown to be insensitive to Sphagnum polysaccharides. The antifungal effect of Sphagnum extract was tested by the disk-diffusion method on the spores of seventeen fungal species. These fungi were isolated from ethnographic museum objects and from archaeological objects excavated in the Arctic. Twelve of these isolates appeared susceptible to the extract. The inhibiting effect of the extract was also tested by the modified broth-dilution method on the most typical isolate (Aspergillus spp.). In this experiment, in one ml of the nutritious broth, 40µl of 3% solution of polysaccharides in water killed 10,000 fungal spores in 6 hours. The inhibiting effect was not connected to the acidity or osmotic effect of Sphagnum polysaccharides. As an example of the application of Sphagnum polysaccharides in art conservation, they were added as preservative agents to conservation waxes. After three weeks of exposure of microcrystalline wax to test fungi (Aspergillus spp.), 44% of wax was consumed. When, however, ~ 0.1% (w/w) of Sphagnum extract was mixed with wax, the weight loss of wax was only 4% in the same time interval. On the basis of this study it was concluded that Sphagnum moss and Sphagnum products can be recommended for use in art conservation as antifungal agents.