Music and Metaphor

Peter Kivy’s contour theory provides a promising explanation of the way we describe instrumental music as expressive of emotions. I argue that if, unlike Kivy, we emphasise the metaphorical character of such descriptions, the contour theory, as a strategy for unpacking such metaphors, can be defended convincingly against common objections. This approach is more satisfactory than those of Scruton and Peacocke, who make much of metaphorical experiences, but leave the underlying metaphors unexplained. Moreover, it gives the contour theory a wider scope than Kivy intended, for even very specific narrative descriptions of music in non-musical terms are perfectly legitimate as long as they are presented, and justified, as metaphors, that is, as mere comparisons, rather than as interpretative claims about the music’s actual contents.

The myths of modern primitivism

RE/Search Publications’ Modern Primitives (Vale and Juno 1989) changed countless lives, bringing what had been a localized and niche set of body modification practices, aesthetics and philosophies out of San Francisco to a global audience, dominating scholarly and popular discourse around body modification subculture for more than a decade afterwards. The voice of Fakir Musafar dominates the book. This article argues that modern primitives as Musafar defines them never really existed (and never could have existed) in the terms he suggests, and goes on to address an important sub-strand within Modern Primitives almost entirely ignored by critics and commentators, who have read the book as generally representative of the body modification culture as a whole. With specific reference to contributors such as infamous tattoo artist Don Ed Hardy who do not frame their practice in ‘primitive’ terms, the article concludes with a study of an alternative account presented by Vale and Juno’s book: body modification as artistic practice.

A utopia no Cinema Brasileiro: matrizes, nostalgia, distopias

This book studies the ressurgence of the utopian gesture in Brazilian Cinema from the mid-1990s onwards, as well as its variations and negations. The analysis identifies trajectories of rise and fall, which reflect oscillations in the political scenario, and includes a retrospective look at utopian traditions of the Brazilian cinematic past, in turn derived from the nation's foundational myths. At the same time, it considers the ways in which recent Brazilian film production transcends Cinema Novo's national project to interacts with modern, postmodern and commercial cinemas of the world, thus benefiting from and contributing to a new transnational cinematic aesthetics.

Film as literature, or the Truffaldian Malaise

This chapter looks at L’Homme qui aimait les femmes (1977) as a privileged instance of the self-effacing, obliquely disruptive, reflexive aesthetics that characterizes Truffaut’s cinema, by means of an intermedial approach. Although an original story, written by Truffaut in collaboration with Suzanne Schiffman and Michel Fermaud, the film’s subject is the writing of a book containing the protagonist’s story. More importantly, its mode of address presents this story as literature, through a complex network of flashbacks and voiceover narrations that comment on and make sense of the fragmentary present-tense action scenes. As well as a film, this method resulted in an actual novel, or cinéroman, this time authored exclusively by the director under the same title of L’Homme qui aimait les femmes, thus giving material form to the literary aim of the cinematic enterprise: a book.

Storytelling in song: television music, narrative and allusion in 'The O.C.'

Television’s long-form storytelling has the potential to allow the rippling of music across episodes and seasons in interesting ways. In the integration of narrative, music and meaning found in The O.C. (Fox, FOX 2003-7), popular song’s allusive and referential qualities are drawn upon to particularly televisual ends. At times embracing its ‘disruptive’ presence, at others suturing popular music into narrative, at times doing both at once. With television studies largely lacking theories of music, this chapter draws on film music theory and close textual analysis to analyse some of the programme's music moments in detail. In particular it considers the series-spanning use of Jeff Buckley’s cover of ‘Hallelujah’ (and its subsequent oppressive presence across multiple televisual texts), the end of episode musical montage and the use of recurring song fragments as theme within single episodes. In doing so it highlights music's role in the fragmentation and flow of the television aesthetic and popular song’s structural presence in television narrative. Illustrating the multiplicity of popular song’s use in television, these moments demonstrate song’s ability to provide narrative commentary, yet also make particular use of what Ian Garwood describes as the ability of ‘a non-diegetic song to exceed the emotional range displayed by diegetic characters’ (2003:115), to ‘speak’ for characters or to their feelings, contributing to both teen TV’s melodramatic affect and narrative expression.

Keine romantische liebe in Africa? Mission, Manner, Monogamie

The sparse historical and anthropological research on romantic love in Africa south of the Sahara gives the impression that the phenomenon may merely be of marginal importance. Instead, the reasons for the apparent impossibility to write about love in Africa are largely rooted in its epistemology: Western stereotypes of a continent inhabited by tribal, atavistic people, barely modernised by colonialism or touched by globalisation which introduced romantic love to the world region have been in part responsible for this dearth of academic knowledge, as have recent identity politics and practical concerns that focused research in the area on sexuality. Here, the main argument is that the almost complete silence about love in Africa may be addressed by applying a more inclusive concept of love that embraces ideologies and practices hitherto neglected, such as polygyny, and that expands the one which has been developed by historians of the medieval and early modern periods. This, in turn, enriches the research on the history of love in Western societies.

No Haus Like Bau

The project consists of a live performance taking the 2005 IKEA riot as the starting point for a speculative history of a fictional future, culminating in a choreographed re-enactment of the original event. It is accompanied by a film series explores the possibility of collective action emerging from the capitalist relations inherent in the consumer riot. The performance, staged at the Berlin Biennale, continues this research into re-enactment and post-1989 politics, using a stage set made of flatpack furniture. Using the aesthetics of Modernism and the avant garde, the project transposes early twentieth century utopian ideology to a present day setting where mass uprisings are motivated by cheap commodities. By re-evaluating biomechanics and Bauhaus theatre theory, these explorations of consumerism and revolution propose that the mechanized movement developed in conjunction with industrial labour survives as a historical re-enactment in the wake of manufacturing work in the west. In the absence of a visual language apt to the contemporary, No Haus Like Bau uses re-enactment as a retrogarde tactic. Its purpose on the one hand is to invoke trajectories for alternate futures that never materialized at an originary moment. On the other hand, the clash of past forms with present content serves to accentuate the historical changes that have thrown into question these forms. Rather than reflecting the present, the projection of the past into a fictional future aims to destabilize the dominant narrative that suggests the current configuration of art, politics and human nature has always been this way. The project has been widely exhibited internationally and supported by Film London and Arts Council England. A theoretical essay on re-enactment as a strategy for performance has been published in Art Papers and in Memory [MIT]. The project also formed the basis of a solo exhibition at Te Tuhi Art Centre, Auckland.