In the first centuries BCE and CE, Roman wall painters frequently placed representations of works of art, especially panel paintings, within their own mural compositions. Nathaniel B. Jones argues that the depiction of panel painting within mural ensembles functioned as a meta-pictorial reflection on the practice and status of painting itself. This phenomenon provides crucial visual evidence for both the reception of Greek culture and the interconnected ethical and aesthetic values of art in the Roman world. (...) Roman meta-pictures, this book reveals, not only navigated social debates on the production and consumption of art, but also created space on the Roman wall for new modes of expression relating to pictorial genres, the role of medium in artistic practice, and the history of painting. Richly illustrated, the volume will be important for anyone interested in the social, ethical, and aesthetic dimensions of artworks, in the ancient Mediterranean and beyond. (shrink)

This article attempts to establish and examine the context of the two remaining mythological paintings in the Macellum, the central market of Pompeii. Panels of Io and Argos and of Penelope and Odysseus grace the interior walls, and while the identification of the Penelope figure has been the subject of debate, she clearly derives from Greek prototypes of Penelope, both material and theatrical. Indeed, scholars suggest that the Io panel and perhaps the Penelope painting as well are copies (...) of Greek panel paintings created by a fourth-century B.C. artist, but it is argued here that their pairing seems to be a Roman creation and that they were part of a larger narrative program. The paintings are compositional opposites and share the narrative technique of depicting moments of quiet tension; this choice of narrative moment is one that began in the Greek world; particularly during the Hellenistic period, and was developed and enhanced by the Romans. Moreover, this interest in creating tension for the spectator, and in the relationship between viewer and image, is also demonstrated by the inclusion of a spectator figure in the Penelope painting. Although the other paintings do not survive, their subjects are known from a nineteenth-century drawing and from nineteenth-century descriptions, and these too share the same narrative technique. If the lost paintings are copies of Greek originals, then the Macellum may have served as a picture gallery for Pompeii's inhabitants. A careful reading of the Macellum paintings of Greek myths, their juxtaposition and relationship to each other, and their reception in Roman literature and society reveals that the paintings were arranged as a program, a moralizing ensemble, designed to instruct the viewer on the proper behavior of Roman matrons. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Diacritics 30.3 (2000) 13-27 [Access article in PDF] David Painting Death Didier Maleuvre Our life has no end in just the way in which our visual field has no limit. —Wittgenstein, Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus Dates It was the "terrible year." The Revolution was in danger, the enemies of France marched on the borders, the Reign of the Terror had begun. There lay Marat in his blood bath, a letter (...) in his hand dated July 13, 1793, the day he died. There he still lies, in his sacrificial tub, behind a yellow panel etched with the revolutionary calendar date, Year Two, the year Marat the martyr rose to historical sainthood. There, in the depth of the image, Marat lay in 1793, a revolutionary murdered in his bath; here, on the canvas, still lies the cluster of paint and brushstrokes suspended in Year Two of his painted embalming. There, in 1793, Marat died; here, in the mythic year of the historical image, Marat remains dead. This "remaining dead" is the time of the painting, its date and signature: "À Marat, David. —L'an deux." The tablet, like a tombstone, is what remains standing in the wake of death. An ex voto, the painting offers itself to the dead man, to his memory. In so doing, however, the painting calls attention to itself, as though making sure we understand it devotes itself to the task of taking us to Marat. It says, "this is a painting 'à Marat', 'for,' 'to' or 'toward' Marat, 1 on the way to him, a painting that makes us see Marat and thereby gives Marat the gift of being seen."Oddly, the patch of painting that beckons to Marat also lays out the spot where the canvas signals it is made of matter: a slab of yellow paint, an obtrusive plane emphasizing that there is paint, that painting is taking place on this Proustian "petit pan de mur jaune." One way to understand this contradiction is to say that the headstone displays the twofold nature of seeing an image: on the one hand, the flight of spellbound vision that goes to ("à") Marat, dead and risen, back from the year 1793; on the other hand, the object-bound perception that stays at the canvas level, the paint, lines, and brushstrokes, the corporeality of paint shaped ceremoniously for ("à") Marat. In short, the event of seeing occurs on this headstone to and for Marat: 2 the eye hits the material slab of canvas, where miraculously, it stumbles into the netherworld of representation where (where?) it catches a glimpse of a wooden box, a bloody bathtub, a dead man. One cannot help marvel at this conjurer's trick that makes the human eye see more than what it is given. And part of marveling at this sleight-of-hand entails wondering why, in David's Marat, the trick of representation calls attention to itself specifically on a tombstone: plainly put, the question is to understand what death has to do with seeing images, with this sudden leap of faith whereby we casually trust there is more to a [End Page 13] canvas than meets the eye, that there is something beyond paint (where?), in the hereafter of images, a corpse in a bathtub. Miraculously.When the image appears, in the leap, the painting dies in the flesh and is reborn as idea, as appearance, the waxen figure of a dead man. Thus the painting dies for Marat, it sacrifices itself for ("à") him. Correspondingly, it erects its own yellow tombstone to commemorate the sacrifice: see what I am doing, I am opening myself up to ("à") Marat. A painter in the grip of revolutionary zeal humbly lets the subject of his painting (the heroic, tremendous Marat) take precedence over the painting that enshrines him. The painting is both glorious and humble: glorious inasmuch as it calls on the tribunal of history to see the martyr; humble because, to do so, the painting must bow before the historical fact. On the yellow tombstone, on its own gravestone, the painting sacrifices itself, vanishes as physical object so that Marat may live forever in the image. For there to... (shrink)

How did medieval art frame the desert as a sacred space? The twelfth-century Klimax panel, today at St Catherine’s Monastery in Sinai, offers insight into this question. Inspired by John of Sinai’s Klimax (or Ladder), the work depicts monks in a cosmic struggle unfolding in the desert. It has long been associated with a site-specific “Sinai style”, even as a depiction of the St Catherine’s surround itself. This essay reconsiders the relationship between both the painting and John of (...) Sinai’s text, as well as the desert landscape. It shows that the work is a product not of Sinai but of Constantinople, and that it was meant to serve as an encomium of a monastic founder from the city. The work’s initial audience were urban monks who likely never engaged in monasticism in the desert. Why, then, did the panel pose so anachronistic adepiction of desert monasticism? The painting was not just encomiastic but also exemplary: the desert’s vast space served as a meditative model for the monastic mind. (shrink)

Simone Martini’s panel painting of St Ladislas of Hungary, founder of the Árpád dynasty and a prototypical crusading knight, attests to the transnational character of Filippo Sangineto’s patronage in Santa Maria della Consolazione, Altomonte (Calabria). The attribution to Sangineto, count of Altomonte and seneschal of Provence, has long been debated, but he is agreed to have been a formidable patron with an ambitious plan for Altomonte. Like many Italian royals, aristocrats, cardinals, and merchants, Filippo commissioned artworks to Sienese (...) artists in Avignon. This study’s approach also sheds light on the iconography as the choice of Ladislas can be connected to the Crusade of Smyrna (1343-1345). The article proposes a reconstruction of Santa Maria della Consolazione, with two small, matching polyptychs set against the screen, one by Bernardo Daddi (two wings survive in Altomonte) and the other by Simone, composed of the painting of Ladislas and the Phillips Collection’s Christ on the Cross. (shrink)

From the thirteenth century to early modern times, Venetian church interiors gleamed with brilliant gold and silver altarpieces and frontals, enlivening dim naves and providing awe-inspiring backdrops for the celebration of the liturgy. Grand in scale and materially sumptuous, these artworks were ingenious viewing machines. Many could be opened and closed horizontally to reveal and conceal multiple layers of imagery. When closed, they were further screened behind purpose-made panel paintings, called contropale or pale feriali. These multimedia ensembles - the (...) best known of which is formed by San Marco’s Pala d’Oro and Pala Feriale - played a vital role as intermediaries between architecture and rite, and they represented the radiant core of rich religious rituals that dramatized Christian notions of divine revelation. Yet, despite their attraction, Venetian gold and silver pale remain insufficiently studied. This article brings an initial analysis of these artifacts into dialogue with broader art historical debates about the materiality and the performativity of medieval artworks. By doing so, it demonstrates the significance of gold and silver pale in defining Venice’s religious and aesthetic cityscape, and it lays the methodological groundwork for future research into these complex artifacts and their environment. (shrink)

Not only the vertical direction of images – perceptually subject to the law of gravity and its consequences – plays an important role in their interpretation; the horizontal direction left-right too seems to foster different interpretations from its converse. For this reason there are subjects and genres of painting, such as the Annunciation or the portrait, revealing some constants from this point of view, in their representation conventions. And for this same reason there are languages​​, like comics, where the (...) left-right direction is critical not only for the succession of panels – clearly bound to the direction of verbal writing – but also for the panel’s internal organization. These reflections suggest a cultural explanation of the differences in horizontal organization in pictures, linking it to the habits of writing, while ruling out the explanations making reference to the physiology of brain. (shrink)

While painted wooden icons of the Nursing Virgin were relatively common in fifteenth-century Ethiopia, only one miniature of the motif of the time has come to light. This image, bound into a later manuscript of the Miracles of Mary, is painted in a decidedly abstract style, comparable to other representations of the Virgin in fifteenth-century Ethiopian book illustration. Relying on Peirce’s distinction between index and icon, this article considers how such abstract representations might have been meant to evoke the divine (...) presence of Mary as a spiritual trace of the artist’s and the audience’s devotional practices, rather than as a potentially miracle-working depiction of her corporeal presence based on figural likeness, as was the case with painted wooden panels. Incorporating references to Ethiopian and Western theorists of modernity, the essay further proposes to view the multiple and interlocking mirror effects in book art as instances of second-order observation, in which, for example, the Virgin sees herself depicted in a book of her miracles, the compilation of which she commissioned and aided; the scribe and artist is featured in one of the miracles he himself is writing and illustrating; and the donor is depicted gazing at the viewer. Whether enabling skeptical distance or a more fully immersive spiritual experience undisturbed by attempts to capture corporeal likeness, or both, this essay proposes to analyze the politics and theology of abstraction in fifteenth-century Ethiopian book art by centering on a rare depiction of the Nursing Virgin. (shrink)

> Wealthy nations must step up support for Africa and vulnerable countries in addressing past, present and future impacts of climate change The 2022 report of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change paints a dark picture of the future of life on earth, characterised by ecosystem collapse, species extinction and climate hazards such as heatwaves and floods.1 These are all linked to physical and mental health problems, with direct and indirect consequences of increased morbidity and mortality. To avoid these (...) catastrophic health effects across all regions of the globe, there is broad agreement—as 231 health journals argued together in 2021—that the rise in global temperature must be limited to <1.5°C compared with pre-industrial levels. While the Paris Agreement of 2015 outlines a global action framework that incorporates providing climate finance to low-income and middle-income countries, this support has yet to materialise.2 COP27 is the fifth Conference of the Parties (COP) to be organised in Africa since its inception in 1995. Ahead of this meeting, we—as health journal editors from across the continent—call for urgent action to ensure it is the COP that finally delivers climate justice for Africa and vulnerable countries. This is essential for the health of those countries, and for the health of the whole world. The climate crisis has had an impact on the environmental and social determinants of health across Africa, leading to devastating health effects.3 Impacts on health can result directly from environmental shocks and indirectly through socially mediated effects.4 Climate change-related risks in Africa include flooding, drought, heatwaves, reduced food production and reduced labour productivity.5 Droughts in sub-Saharan Africa …. (shrink)

Willem II van Haecht?s panel of the Cabinet of Cornelis van der Geest (1628), introduces the viewer to the theme of the Five Senses by including five prominently displayed paintings, each corresponding to one of the senses, in the foreground. The paper offers a new reading of the panel, suggesting that this image may be read as an allegory of the Five Senses, proposing this theme as a key to the rhetorical performance the collector, van der Geest, is (...) shown undertaking, and connecting the senses to the picture?s punning motto: Vive l?Esprit. (shrink)

In late August 2012, artist Paul Thomas and philosopher Timothy Morton took a stroll up and down King Street in Newtown, Sydney. They took photographs. If you walk too slowly down the street, you find yourself caught in the honey of aesthetic zones emitted by thousands and thousands of beings. If you want to get from A to B, you had better hurry up. Is there any space between anything? Do we not, when we look for such a space, encounter (...) a plenitude of other things —a slice of plaster, an old vinyl record, a flattened piece of aluminum, painted metal surfaces, nameless interstitial powder, the reflection of sky, some letters of the alphabet, roughened concrete. Between what we take to be things there exist other things, as if the universe were jammed with entities like clowns in a crowded Expressionist painting. An abyss of things that emanates from them, not a yawning void that threatens to engulf them, but a sunlit nothingness filled with dust that seems to spray out of them like dry mist sparkling with firefly swarms. In these so-called spaces, we encounter the work of causality. Look: someone painted over this crack, some sunlight rippled in a mirage, a hole appeared. When we look for causes and effects, we don't encounter a basement of efficiently whirring machinery. Rather, we encounter these in-between spaces, where we had not thought to look. What we see are stage hands moving the scenery about—they are doing it in plain sight, the best place to hide, right in front of you, in the place we call the aesthetic dimension . In Tibetan Buddhism these spaces are called bardo , which just means the between. There is no such thing as a moment of your life that is not a between, according to this view. There is the between of living. There is the between of dying. There is the between of the transition between lives. There is the between of dreaming. There is the between of meditation. There is the between of two humans holding cameras walking down a street in Sydney. The between of two buildings, a space bursting with objects as if a billion jack in the boxes had exploded at once. Some of the lids are stuck, sometimes a nose bursts out and the hinge won't open any further; at other times, the jack in the box flies right out and pulps against the wall on the opposite side of the room. Time opens up. Each surface is a poem about the past. A myriad stories begin to proliferate, as if a thing were a crisscrossing of books, a whole library of them, each page whispering parts of paragraphs and broken pieces of word. The stories tell us things—they are quite literal, look, this guy painted part of this wall, then they came and stripped off the panel and touched up the holes. Form is the past. When you look at appearance, you are looking at the past. Where is the present? And essence is the future. The hints of unknown, unseen things, the absolute impossibility of grasping everything about this plastic pipe, the way photons entering the camera lens obey a speed limit and splash onto receptors, going into and out of coherence. At the electronic level, it's quite clear that causality is aesthetic. I can't see an electron without deflecting it. Everything is a refrigerator with a light on—or off—inside. For me, for you, for this arrangement of tiles sandwiched between a door and a slab of marble. To a photon, an electron is a refrigerator with a closed door, and a light that might be on—or off—inside. How can you know whether the light is on inside? Why, you open the door of course. But then you are looking at the past. You never see the light in the refrigerator before you open the door. This future is not a predictable future that is a specific number of now-points away. You will never reach it. You will never be able to sneak up from the side and see through the refrigerator. Nor can a photon see through the refrigerator of an electron. Nor can paint see through the refrigerator of this plastic pipe. You take a photo—click—the past appears, another open refrigerator. But the thing you have just made, the photograph, the graphing of the photons—it is another thing, another story. You can read the words, but the meaning always eludes you. It always lurks just off the edge of the sentence, just at the very edge of this ragged slice of paint, just at the edge of this building, between this one and that one. Thousands of secrets, everywhere. Masks that lie and tell the truth at the same time: this pink paint is not blue paint, that's true. But the thing, the thing in itself, that paint sliding off a brush onto that pipe—it is nowhere to be seen, like a light behind a closed door. When you walk too slowly down the street, you start walking into millions of levels of pastness, levels emitted not just by the humans or the dogs and cats, but also by this garbage can, this mottled pink surface pockmarked with nail holes. You walk surrounded by as many futures as there are things. You walk, or rather you occupy a peculiar shifting ground of nowness, created by the relative motion of the past sliding against the future, not touching. You begin to realize that the present does not exist. A thing is a train station where one train is always arriving and one train is always leaving. Hundreds of train stations everywhere, hundreds of relative motions. The idea of a universal, regular, atomic sequence of instants that contains everything is absolutely ludicrous, the philosophers have known this for thousands of years, and to hide the absurdity, to get from A to B, Houston to Sydney, crossing the International Date Line without too much laughter, you have embedded piezoelectric devices in as many pieces of hardware as possible, devices in which quartz talks to electrons, making train stations where the trains seem to run on time. When you walk too slowly down the street, you begin to realize that Zeno had a point. You can seemingly divide each moment, each step, infinitesimally. So perhaps there are no moments, no steps. Or perhaps time is not a box that everything goes in. Perhaps time is, as Einstein argued after all, a way that things send out ripples. Where one house touches another house, there arise hundreds of things, hundreds of meeting places (Old English thing , meeting place). Hundreds of times. I have a thing for you. Come over here, let's do a thing. Stay in the sunlight and shadow between worlds, in the sunlit canyon between this building and that building. See how paint touches this pipe, caressing then leaving, no one will notice if a surface is left exposed, not quite filled in. See how shadows are reflected in pale cream glass—see the luminous abyss of causality spreading out before your very eyes, right in front of security. All kinds of beautiful crimes are committed right here, and as American cars keep telling you, and you never notice, OBJECTS IN MIRROR ARE CLOSER THAN THEY APPEAR. They are here, or rather, here is them, and now is them. Kissing in the shadow. Tim Morton Rice University. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:A Reciprocating Engine--Like ProustRoger ShattuckWould you buy a book called “How to Read a Book”? Only out of annoyance, I imagine. In the company of literary scholars, critics, and writers, we all think we know already how to read. Otherwise, we’d be professional charlatans. Still, in 1940 tens of thousands of people bought a book called How to Read a Book by Mortimer J. Adler. It stayed on the (...) best seller lists for several weeks. Adler wrote in an easy conversational style and promoted good books—even old ones. But he had the essentials wrong. He believed we should read the way a tyro tours an art museum: the tyro looks at the label before looking at the painting. Of course our whole educational system—K plus 12 plus 4 plus even more—inevitably follows this label-first method. I shall come back to the basic question of order of events in reading literature.On the basis of my own experience and of my investigations in recent years, I distinguish three kinds or levels of reading. We read for basic comprehension of words and sentences. We read for literary response to the parts and the whole of a work. And we read for the relations of the work to other works and to life itself. These tentative categories of reading do not represent sequential stages. Our response to language may resort to one or all of these three activities at any stage of learning.Formal reading begins with the basic association of written word with sounded word—with a notion in the mind—with some phenomenon in the world. Since most of us have forgotten how we learned those initial associations, we understand them probably from having helped a child to read. And in that gradual process we do not usually encounter the excitement that can occur when an illiterate older child or an illiterate [End Page 104] adult suddenly grasps the miracle of language. The exemplary case of Helen Keller concentrates into one incident at the water pump the revelation that comes to the rest of us over a period of weeks or months at a much earlier age. We should never forget one fundamental: the comprehension stage of reading is not an empty skill that can be acquired apart from meaningful content. In order to make sense of written language, we cannot just learn a mental trick of association but must also acquire much information about the world we live in.This first category of reading for comprehension is endlessly debated by all parties, including literary scholars and critics. Almost no one speaks of the third category: how to keep track of and make use of what we read over the years, both as professionals in the field of literature and as individuals seeking to shape a life out of our experience. I lifted the title of this panel from a remarkable essay on how to keep notes on one’s reading and how to set up and constantly revise a system of files both in order to give direction to one’s professional career and in order to constitute one’s character as a person. The essay “On Intellectual Craftsmanship” was written by C. Wright Mills as an appendix for The Sociological Imagination (1959). We all pick up procedures for keeping notes and files as we go along. But despite the number of methodology courses in graduate programs in literature, such basics are rarely discussed. Mills deserves much credit for raising a neglected subject essential for all writers. Intellectual craftsmanship will become even more challenging in the era of electronics and computers.Another great scholar a century earlier saw fit to speak of these basics near the end of his autobiography.I may mention that I keep from thirty to forty large portfolios, in cabinets with labelled shelves, into which I can at once put a detached reference or memorandum. I have bought many books and at their ends I make an index of all the facts that concern my work; or, if the book is not my own, write out a separate abstract, and of such abstracts I have a huge drawer... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The Irreplaceable Cannot Be ReplacedEllen HarveyThe Irreplaceable Cannot Be Replaced, Ellen Harvey, 2008. Photographs: Jan Baracz.People in New Orleans were invited to submit images or descriptions of irreplaceable places, people, or things lost to Hurricane Katrina. Eleven submissions were chosen at random and the artist painted 16” x 20” oil paintings based on those submissions. All thirty texts that were submitted were framed and exhibited along with the paintings (...) at the Contemporary Arts Center/New Orleans as part of the exhibition Something from Nothing, curated by Dan Cameron. Texts without a painting were accompanied by a framed black panel. At the end of the exhibition, all of the paintings and the framed texts were given away to the participants.Ellen Harvey was born in the United Kingdom and lives and works in Brooklyn, NY. She has exhibited extensively in the US and internationally and was most recently included in the 2008 Whitney Biennial. Recent solo exhibitions include Private Collections at Locks Gallery, Philadelphia, The Museum of Failure at Luxe Gallery, New York, Beautiful/Ugly at Magnus Müller in Berlin, Bad Mirror at Galerie Gebruder Lehmann in Dresden, Mirror at the Pennsylvania Academy, and A Whitney for the Whitney at Philip Morris at the Whitney Museum at Altria. She took part in the Whitney Independent Study Program and the PS1 Studio Program. Recent awards include a Pennies from Heaven Grant, a Philadelphia Exhibitions Initiative Grant, a Rema Hort Mann Foundation Grant, a Palm Beach County Cultural Council Grant, and a New York Foundation for the Arts Fellowship. She has completed projects for both the New York and Chicago Transit Authorities, most recently including a mosaic for the new Metro-North Yankee Stadium Station. The New York Beautification Project was published by Gregory Miller in 2005, and Ellen Harvey: Mirror was published by the Pennsylvania Academy in 2006. Click for larger view View full resolutionI am 87 years old living in a trailer on our property in New Orleans.We had 5 ft of water, which remained in the house 6 weeks creating mold to the ceiling.We lost everything. When I read Chris Rose’s column (he’s my favorite columnist in the whole world) it brought to mind my mother’s two dining room chairs that had been around as long as I can remember. I had them restored in about 1976 by Senior Citizens in classes of the “Peoples Program” sponsored by the nuns on Mirabean Ave. The wood was polished and varnished with a light brown stain and the seats were re-caned. I was born in 1920 so the chairs could be 75 years old. Anyway I can imagine you will have many interesting subjects to choose from but I’m submitting mine hoping I’ll be one of the very fortunate ones selected.I am terrible at drawing but will give you as complete a description as I can.I loved those chairs and enjoyed them for extra seating on holidays and at parties and they were conversation pieces.Alice Delaney[End Page 2] Click for larger view View full resolutionThere are so many “washed away” treasures, that the memorialization of even just one will be everlastingly meaningful to the community.I am submitting photographs of porcelain dolls, which I had crafted prior to the disaster. The dolls shown were created from commercial molds and were ready to go to a “new home.” Needless to say these dolls were submerged under water for at least two weeks. I call them my “children of the flood” but have not had the courage to disassemble them. I was able to rescue some doll parts and am in the process of cleaning, sorting and sanitizing them for future assembly.If I am ever able to get back to my very rewarding hobby, which was helpful in supplementing my retirement income, I will have to replace my electronic kiln and most of my doll making supplies. Many of the molds that were destroyed are no longer available. However, I will keep the memories dear, I have been fortunate enough to replace my sewing machines and some of the fabric used for clothing and doll... (shrink)

Richard Shusterman suggested that Maurice Merleau-Ponty neglected “‘lived somaesthetic reflection,’ that is, concrete but representational and reflective body consciousness.” While unsure about this assessment of Merleau-Ponty, lived somaesthetic reflection, or what the late Sam Mallin called “body phenomenology”—understood as a meditation on the body reflecting on both itself and the world—is my starting point. Another is John Dewey’s bodily theory of perception, augmented somewhat by Merleau-Ponty. -/- With these starting points, I spent roughly 20 hours with St. Benedict Restores Life (...) to a Young Monk (c. 1360), a work of tempera and gold leaf on panel, by Giovanni Del Biondo, active in Italy from 1356 to 1398, on display in the Art Gallery of Ontario’s permanent collection. Following Dewey’s suggestion that “[t]he eye ... is only the channel through which a total response takes place,” meaning that motor, emotional, intellectual and non-visual perceptual capacities become active when we encounter paintings, I describe how the work engaged a range of bodily modalities; and how reflecting on these, in turn, supplied phenomenal articulations of life negating, preserving and enhancing forces important in the culture that produced it, and famously discussed by Friedrich Nietzsche. By virtue of the approach adopted, I also demonstrate Dewey’s belief that intimate engagement with art entails a total coordination of one’s capacities around the artwork, while simultaneously reinforcing Merleau-Ponty’s ideas about perception and how we can find phenomenal articulations of concepts such as the Nietzschean ones just mentioned. While focusing on Del Biondo’s painting, my main purpose is to engage in body phenomenology practices, and to show, in the words of Shusterman, how “[w]e might sharpen our appreciation of art through more attention to our somaesthetic feelings involved in perceiving art” and indeed the world. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:ImagesSelected work, 2004–2017Goldschmied and Chiari Click for larger view View full resolutionIMAGE: Goldschmied & Chiari NYMPHEAS #37, 2011 Lambda print, 120 cm (diam.) Click for larger view View full resolutionIMAGE: Goldschmied & Chiari UNTITLED VIEW, 2017 Digital print on glass and glass mirror, 115 × 70 cm[End Page 49] Click for larger view View full resolutionGoldschmied & Chiari DUMP QUEEN #1 (triptych panels B and C), 2008 Diasec print, (...) 180 × 180 cm each[End Page 50] Click for larger view View full resolution[End Page 51] Click for larger view View full resolution[End Page 52] Click for larger view View full resolutionGoldschmied & Chiari GENEALOGY OF DAMNATIO MEMORIAE 1965–1981, 2009 Two carved living trees, 450 cm (height)Installation view (left); detail (right) Collection of MACRO (Museo d'Arte Contemporanea di Roma) Photo: Altrospazio[End Page 53] Click for larger view View full resolutionGoldschmied & Chiari NYMPHEAS #12, 2007 Lambda print, 125 × 333 cm Collection of Michele and Philippe Levy[End Page 55] Click for larger view View full resolutionIMAGE: Goldschmied & Chiari WELCOME, 2004 Sheetrock, plaster, cement, paint, 10 × 1.5 × 2.35 mt Collection Ugolini Photo: Gabriele Basilico[End Page 57]Sara Goldschmied and Eleonora Chiari are an artist duo from Italy, working with varied media: photography, video, performance, and installation. They work and live in Milan.Girls Just wanna have fun: Goldschmied & Chiari's Irreverent HumorHumor is not a trait for women, even less so for women artists in the Italian art world, where women's creativity has historically focused either on intimacy or on abstraction. In order to be taken into consideration by a male-dominated art scene, women artists working in the Italian peninsula have, since the '70s, consistently been obliged to be extremely serious about their work and its content. This trait can be traced all the way to the present with few exceptions, making Goldschmied & Chiari's (Sara Goldschmied and Eleonora Chiari) artistic practice exceptional in its constant employment of a peculiar, irreverent form of humor that functions as subliminal social critique.Humor used as a strategy to reconsider historical events in a post-ideological form of feminism develops in their work in witty installations that articulate a lucid critique of contemporary society and its relationship to history. Radically distancing themselves from the stereotype of authoritative and earnest feminism, Goldschmied & Chiari turn laughter into a metaphor for transformation. Their images trigger subtle political disruptions, allowing them to delve into the complex history of post-Cold War narratives, offering the public a new understanding of the relationships between the symbolic and the social.My first encounter with Goldschmied & Chiari's work (goldiechiari at the time) dates back to 2002 when I was working on a large survey show of emerging Italian art, exIT: Nuove geografie della creatività italiana, curated by Francesco Bonami. I was surprised by their work Senza titolo #17 that portrayed in a full-color photograph two girls dressed as if they were in boarding school, in plaid skirts and colored stockings, with long braids, sitting on the floor helping an elderly "grandmother" knitting in her armchair by making a hank of yarn. Looking closer, one sees that the girls were actually adolescents trapped in a parody that the artists further highlighted by installing in front of the photo what looked like a gigantic ball of yarn but was actually a sphere made of 1,500 cm of barbed wire (Sfera, 2002). The "tableau vivant" quality of the image made it both funny and critical, as visitors could relate as much to the stereotyped enactment of women's domestic roles as to the artists' rebellious desire. Instead of relegating their creativity to the domestic sphere, these "mischievous little girls" had wound a menacing barbed-wire ball that evoked Italy's recent past of social unrest and urban guerrillas. The assumption of ironic activist alter egos in one way referenced feminist practices of the '70s, yet at the same time seemed to mock the violence associated with protest and its success. [End Page 116]This type of atmosphere linked to city barricades and acts of protest is the inspiration for a large... (shrink)

The Paleolithic art interpretation is still a polemical subject. Nearly 300 caves covered with Paleolithic paintings have been discovered and more than 90% are located in Spain and in France. Surprisingly, more than half the painted illustrations are abstract patterns such as dots and lines. The high realism of naturalist figures also stands out. We will present the four groups of theories that have been formulated since the end of the XIXth century in order to interpret the Paleolithic art: the (...) artistic theory from Lartet and Piette; the magical hunting theory from anthropologists such as Tylor and Frazer and archeologists like Breuil; the structuralist theory from Raphael, Leroi- Gourhan and Laming-Emperaire; and lastly the shamanist theory from Lewis-Williams and Clottes. We will also refer to the agglutinative theory gathering all of these from Ucko and Rosefeld. Afterwards I will offer my own thought. Paleolithic paintings are the expression the life led by every generation of the clan. The panels or the set of animals as much as the painted signs are their own History collection. (shrink)

The purpose of this paper is to show the argument-establishing features of a Renaissance altarpiece. Looking to Panofsky’s seminal studies and to more recent contributions, this essay shows how in a special environment like the Florentine pre-Renaissance, people could easily relate to the evocative and contrastive potential of images. In the Santa Lucia de’ Magnoli Altarpiece painted by Domenico Veneziano we see an interesting dialogue between the main piece and the predella panels. This juxtaposition can be formalized into a basic (...) argumentative text. (shrink)

This paper presents the discovery of a skirting board panel decorated with knotted fretwork painted in red iron oxide. It was discovered during the recent excavations in the Cathedral of Seville. The design is organized in four sections divided by twisted ribbons. The free spaces in the design are filled with eight-pointed stars. Parallels in the Patio del Yeso in the Reales Alcázares and in a site in the CaUe Imperial in Seville show that the design dates to the (...) mid-twelfth century. The skirting board must have pertained to a house demolished in 1172 to build the Almohad Congregational mosque. (shrink)

This essay had its beginnings in my desire to reexamine the Arnolfini portrait from the perspective of Giovanna Cenami, the demure young woman who stands beside the cloaked and hated man on the fifteenth-century panel in London. Even though she shares the formal prominence with the man in Jan van Eyck’s unprecedented composition, she has been paid scant attention in the literature on the painting. I anticipated, as I began my work that inspection of the female subject of (...) the panel would, of necessity, amend the authoritative count of the Arnolfini portrait that Panofsky first published in 1934. That narrative, which focused on the event portrayed, had been recited to me by my teachers as an example of interpretive truth; I had committed it to memory as a model of our discipline’s search for meaning. I never dreamed back then that it might be “wrong.” Yet, the material I encountered as I pursued my inquiry into Giovanna’s life contradicted Panofsky’s assumptions on several key points; amendment alone would not do. It seemed necessary for me to challenge the venerable interpretation others were starting to question,4 even though two generations of students, including my own, had learned from it all they thought there was to know about “Jan van Eyck’s Arnolfini Portrait.” 4. See, for example, Peter H. Schabacker, “De Matrimonio ad Morganaticam Conracto: Jan van Eyck’s ‘Arnolfini’ Portrait Reconsidered,” Art Quarterly 35 : 375-98, hereafter abbreviated “DM”; Lucy Freeman Sandler, “The Handclasp in the Arnolfini Wedding: A Manuscript Precedent,” Art Bulletin 66 : 488-91, hereafter abbreviated “H”; and Jan Baptist Bedaux, “The Reality of Symbols: The Question of Disguised Symbolism in Jan van Eyck’s Arnolfini Portrait,” Simiolus 16 : 5-28, hereafter abbreviated “RS.” Linda Seidel, associate professor in the department of art at the University of Chicago, is the author of Songs of Glory , a study of twelfth-century French architectural sculpture. She is currently completing a work on medieval doorway design as an art of entry and pursuing a collaborative project with Michael Camille and Robert Nelson, Medieval Art and Its Audiences. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The Office of Scientific IntegrityDavid P. Hamilton (bio)For most of the 1980s, the specter of scientific fraud popped into public view every few years, usually only to submerge again. Faced with several well-publicized cases of scientists who blatantly faked their data—among the best-known being Harvard cardiologist John Darsee (whose colleagues watched him forge data) (Broad and Wade 1982, p. 14) and Sloan-Kettering Institute immunologist William Summerlin (who painted black (...) spots on white mice to simulate tissue grafts) (Broad and Wade 1982, p. 155)—the scientific community as a whole tended to dismiss the phenomenon as the work of a few deviants. Called in 1981 to testify before then-Representative Albert Gore Jr.'s subcommittee on investigations and oversight, Philip Handler, then-president of the National Academy of Sciences, told the panel that science was perfectly capable of regulating itself, and that the problem of scientific fraud had been "grossly exaggerated" by the press (Broad and Wade 1982). The message was clear: Congress should stick to its knitting, and science would take care of itself.Now, however, scientists are faced with a very different situation: a permanent federal bureaucracy, known as the Office of Scientific Integrity (OSI), devoted to the investigation of alleged scientific wrongdoing. The transition from the days of laissez-faire, when universities were entrusted with all investigations unless they were handled so badly that the federal government was forced to take notice, has been an uncomfortable one for many researchers. Lately, this discomfort has taken shape as a vocal protest against OSI. Largely as a result of this protest, federal officials recently promoted a plan to restructure OSI and change some of its operating procedures, a move with unpredictable consequences for universities and researchers alike.OSI was born largely because of investigations by two influential congressmen: Representatives John Dingell of Michigan and Ted Weiss of New York. While both claimed they acted mainly to make sure taxpayer dollars were not spent on fraudulent research, both also maintained a strong interest in protecting "whistleblowers," the often vulnerable, and usually junior, scientists who first raise questions about bad research. And Dingell seemed to take special pleasure in pointing up the deficiencies of investigations run by universities and by the National Institutes of Health (NIH) itself. (For reasons that are not well understood, [End Page 171] biomedical research seems far more prone to fraud than any other field of science. As a result, NIH, which funds most biomedical research in the United States, has held ultimate responsibility for most prominent cases of fraud.) Plagued as they often were by conflicts of interest, shoddy methodologies, and, in some cases, a willingness to believe any excuse by the accused, no matter how far-fetched, these investigations made easy targets. And the notion that science could "govern itself" grew harder to sustain.In late 1988, Dingell and other congressmen began circulating draft bills that would have created a new office for investigating scientific fraud. Dingell would have placed such an office under the aegis of the Inspector General of the Department of Health and Human Services, raising the possibility that scientific fraud might be probed by the same criminal investigators who unravel Medicare fraud. Unsettled by this vision of the "science police," NIH officials moved quickly to pre-empt Congress. On March 16, 1989, they published a notice in the Federal Register announcing the creation of OSI, an office with responsibility for ensuring thorough university investigations of misconduct and the authority to conduct its own investigations when necessary.From the beginning, OSI took an unusual approach to its work. For one thing, the office had a broad mandate: Although located within NIH, it was responsible for research funded throughout the entire Public Health Service, including the Food and Drug Administration, the Alcohol, Drug, and Mental Health Administration, and the Centers for Disease Control. Furthermore, it was not restricted to scientific fraud. Departmental lawyers, wishing to avoid the legal connotations of the term "fraud"—in particular, a requirement that fraudulent actions not only mislead others but also cause them noticeable harm—decided instead to adopt the term "scientific misconduct," defined as "fabrication, falsification, plagiarism, or other practices that deviate... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Feminist Studies 41, no. 3. © 2015 by Kathryn Kein 671 Kathryn Kein Recovering Our Sense of Humor: New Directions in Feminist Humor Studies At the 2014 annual meeting of the American Studies Association (ASA), the Humor Studies Caucus held a panel titled “Female Comedians and the Critical Power of Laughter.” After listening to presentations on Gilda Radner, Lily Tomlin, and Black women comedians’ 1960s comedy albums, one (...) audience member asked the panel if the classic theories of humor—Freud’s theory of the joke, Bergson’s thoughts on laughter (all conceived of in relation to the work of men)—applied when analyzing female comedic performers. One panelist immediately responded that she found none of those theories useful to her work on female comedians, and that instead she used queer theory to aid her analysis. This exchange at ASA points to many of the questions that scholars of humor and feminism are currently facing as they work to address a dearth of scholarship dealing with women, feminism, and comedy. The nods in agreement around the room spoke to the notion that scholarship on the topic of women in comedy is not merely filling in gaps, but breaking new ground. With a few notable exceptions, scholars have been relatively silent on topics involving women and/in comedy.1 The meager 1. See Susanne Lavin, Women and Comedy in Solo Performance: Phyllis Diller, Lily Tomlin, and Roseanne (New York: Routledge, 2004); June Sochen, ed., Women’s Comic Visions (Detroit, MI: Wayne State University Press, 1991); John Limon, “Skirting, Kidding: Ellen Degeneres and Paula Poundstone,” in 672 Kathryn Kein scholarly space devoted to feminism and humor is likely shaped by the fraught relationship women and feminism have had with humor in our cultural imagination. Women have long battled a perception that they, as a sex, are biologically not funny. Men have always vastly outnumbered women on stand-up stages and in comedy writers’ rooms. Former Saturday Night Live writer Anne Beatts recalled that star John Belushi, being of the “chicks-aren’t-funny” school, often requested that the women writers be fired.2 In her bestselling Bossypants, Tina Fey recalls that the gender imbalance of the sketch comedy teams at Chicago’s Second City were due to the fact that directors believed “the audience doesn’t want to see a scene between two women.”3 In his 2007 piece in Vanity Fair brashly titled “Why Women Aren’t Funny,” Christopher Hitchens went so far as to call women and humor “antithetical.”4 In particular, feminist women have been painted as humorless and unable to take a joke. In The Promise of Happiness, Sarah Ahmed, defining her figure of the feminist killjoy, observes that “feminists are typically represented as grumpy his Stand-Up Comedy in Theory, or, Abjection in America (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2000). 2. For further accounts of women comedy writers’ and performers’ experiences, see Yael Kohen, We Killed: The Rise of Women in American Comedy: A Very Oral History (New York: Sarah Crichton Books, 2012). 3. Tina Fey, Bossypants (New York: Little, Brown, and Company, 2011), 87. 4. Christopher Hitchens, “Why Women Aren’t Funny,” Vanity Fair 557 (2007): 54 Books Discussed in This Essay All Joking Aside: American Humor and Its Discontents. By Rebecca Krefting. Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2014. Pretty/Funny: Women Comedians and Body Politics. By Linda Mizejewski. Austin: University of Texas Press, 2014. The Queer Cultural Work of Lily Tomlin and Jane Wagner. By Jennifer Reed. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2013. Kathryn Kein 673 and humorless.”5 In a variation of the age-old joke, when a jokester asks, “How many feminists does it take to change a light bulb?” the respondent doesn’t say “How many?” but instead deadpans, “That’s not funny.” In different ways, the three books reviewed in this essay take up the conversation at ASA and tackle these same questions: How do we analyze humor produced by (and for?) women when our understanding of humor is decidedly male? What omissions have the gendered assumptions about humor caused in scholarship on feminism? How does humor work to address these assumptions? And how does the backdrop of these assumptions influence the comedy... (shrink)

At the Barnes Foundation in 1931, Matisse undertook the painting of a large decorative panel entitled La Danse. Its stakes are considerable: the disqualification of the painting-form and the drawing-genre, in favor of an environmental art infused with a decorative vitalism that redefines the architectural function itself at the deepest level, beyond any question of site-specificity.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:American Journal of Philology 124.3 (2003) 325-327 [Access article in PDF] Introduction John F. Donahue The present special issue of the American Journal of Philology takes as its focus dining in the Roman world. It grew out of the APA/AIA Joint Panel on that subject, which was part of the annual meeting held in Philadelphia in 2002. The topic is both timely and engaging. Indeed, owing largely to (...) its perishability, its diversity, and the ease with which it can be manipulated for any number of social or political ends, food has proven to be an especially amenable topic for scholarly analysis of all sorts.The articles gathered in this special issue further illuminate the nature and function of this elemental yet highly complex social practice, offering a variety of approaches—historical, sociological, literary, cultural, and material—to food and dining in the Roman world.In the first article, "The Way We Used to Eat: Diet, Community, and History at Rome," Nicholas Purcell shows clearly that food and dining can be profitably approached from a cultural perspective. Here, Purcell explores Roman self-consciousness about nutrition and the way in which diet (and implicitly agriculture) were transformed into a narration of historical change. The process is evident in the "comestible historiography" of the elder Pliny, in which the simple foods associated with earlier Roman history provide insight into the ways in which the Romans thought about time and change by focusing on food. Especially influential in this type of approach was Varro and, before him, Dicaearchus. Thus for the Romans, food played a notable role in the relationship of the present to various pasts; in the process it becomes an important marker in helping us to map the intellectual and cultural history of the Republican period.Turning to Roman literature, John Wilkins, in "Land and Sea: Italy and the Mediterranean in the Roman Discourse of Dining," reminds us that Roman dining was linked both to the ideology of the early Imperial period and to the mythography of the agricultural base of Republican politics. The result is a body of texts that moralize against luxury and excess, however much this viewpoint may be at odds with actual Roman practice. In a refreshing departure from the Latin texts that typically treat these themes, the author points to the Greek writers of the second [End Page 325] century C.E., namely, Athenaeus and Galen. Both were interested in eating and dining, but from a much broader perspective than the moralizing approach typical of so much of Roman dining literature.While approaches of this sort help to illuminate both the universality of the dining experience and its uniquely Roman aspects, the sharing of food also intersects in interesting ways with gender and the body. Matthew Roller, in his article "Horizontal Women: Posture and Sex in the Roman Convivium," examines literary texts, Roman urban funerary monuments, and Campanian wall painting in order to understand more completely the complexities of female posture at Roman convivia. On a historical level such evidence argues for women assuming a reclining posture; on an ideological level, the reclining woman symbolizes many of the same things that a reclining posture symbolizes for men—otium, privilege, and pleasure. Even so, the matter of female sexual propriety is never far below the surface, especially in the non-literary sources.John Donahue, in "Toward a Typology of Roman Public Feasting," examines public banqueting during the Principate against the background of modern typologies of commensality in order to understand not only the form but also the deeper social function of public dining. Donahue assembles a wide cross section of Roman testimonia and weaves them into a coherent (if imperfect) framework of festal typologies, while employing a cross-cultural and interdisciplinary approach, in this instance from French sociology. The Roman evidence is categorized into useful typologies, which, in turn, enrich our understanding of public dining and its place in Roman daily life.Not to be overlooked within the Roman festal landscape were servants, the "human props" of the elite-sponsored banquet, as John D'Arms appropriately characterized them. 1 Here, in the final entry, Katherine M.D. Dunbabin... (shrink)

Gregory Pappas faced a difficult task in offering a critical response to this book, as he is not only the current philosopher who is most cited in the book, but the book frequently acknowledges his work as being the single greatest intellectual bridge between the various filosofías vivas (living philosophies) of the Americas. I am humbled by Goyo's (Pappas's) kind words and thankful for his critiques.Pappas's most significant critique concerns Part II of the book, the part that investigates the danger (...) that inter-American philosophy might function, intentionally or not, as a form of US propaganda. Pappas suggests that this section descends into an oversimplified kind of cultural Manichaeanism, where all of Latin America's problems are explained as being due to yanqui colonialism and the peoples of Latin American countries are all virtuous, long-suffering victims with no agency or accountability themselves. Worse yet, Pappas raises the possibility that I have foolishly set out on a Quest for Purity (fighting words to be sure since he knows how much I dig Dewey's Quest for Certainty!) where I make it my mission to imagine an American philosophical discourse disinfected of all North American colonialism. Pappas's critique is fair and insightful. I am most concerned that in my effort to take seriously the linkages between American pragmatism and American colonialism that Rodó, Vasconcelos, and others allege exist, I have painted an oversimplified and crude picture that, most troublingly, elides the moral agency of the peoples of the Caribbean and Latin America. Please let me offer a few responses to his critique that the book lacked subtlety in its analysis of colonialism as it relates to inter-American philosophy and North American Pragmatism.First, Pappas is undoubtedly correct that the United States is not to blame for all the problems that beset the peoples of Latin America, and that every country has its own, homegrown problems of corruption and vice. However, a philosophy centered on the problems of life recognizes our contexts and various situated positions. Therefore, as a gringo (even a gringo Boricua who was raised in Puerto Rico), I contend it is not my place to remove the mote of moral failures from those living within a colonial system while the beam of white colonialism still blinds most white Americans (including me) from properly seeing ourselves in this system. Pappas is, of course, correct when he says that the “other side also needs some correction.” However, as a white US citizen who has benefitted from these colonial systems, I think it is most productive and appropriate for me, for reasons of pragmatist fallibilism if nothing else, to attend to my side in the problem, which is the history and present of US colonialism in the Americas. While I accept that my analysis lacked balance and subtlety, as Pappas rightly notes, the reason was that I was trying to write consistently from my position as a yanqui who wanted to thematize the role of US colonialism within Latin America, not to strive for purity, but instead a full reckoning of a system that my privilege encourages me to ignore.This leads to a second valence of my response to Dr. Pappas's critique, one that regards how my affinities impact my epistemology. If some readers find the critique of American Pragmatism in Part II to be too vociferous (though, I am sure many others will find the critiques too tame), it was because I was intentionally trying to write with my off-hand, as it were. The chapters of Part II strive to charitably consider and make room for the charge that was suggested by Frondizi and strenuously argued by Vasconcelos, Rodó, and Albizu, that philosophies of the Global North, including Pragmatism, facilitate systems of oppression in the Global South. I did so to try to correct for the fact that my starting point is one of great admiration and even love for American Philosophy, including many English-language North American pragmatists like Dewey, James, and Addams. One of the premises of this book is that the academic discourse of inter-American philosophy is ready to grow past the initial stage of development, which has heretofore focused on delineating points of affinity between the intellectual traditions of the Americas, and to start to contend with points of discord and contention. So while I was (and truthfully still am not) convinced by José Vasconcelos's depiction of John Dewey as the High Priest of the American Empire, I also know that since Dewey is one of my greatest influences, my personal affinity might lead me to exculpate him even if a critique is valid. Therefore, I argue that it is appropriate and necessary to offer a charitable summary of these critiques so that other scholars with different perspectives and starting points might weigh in on these and other critiques. The purpose of this book was less to argue a position about many of these issues, than it was to invite and foster a broader, truly inter-American community of inquiry to engage with these questions to have a full and complex assessment of the questions. Somewhat ironically, I dedicated a third of this book to making charitable room for critiques of North American Pragmatism for good pragmatist reasons. One of the most significant values of philosophical Pragmatism is its prioritization of a particular method of inquiry that is democratic and sincere above any particular claim. In this case, that means it is more important to have an inter-American philosophical dialogue that makes room for and charitably considers all claims (including claims that are profoundly distrustful of Pragmatism by thinkers like Rodó and Vasconcelos) than it is for me, as one voice speaking at what I think is still an early stage of the conversation, to defend or refute particular claims about philosophers. A full scholarly discourse developed by an inter-American community of philosophical inquiry will yield the sort of subtle and nuanced historical understanding Pappas calls for. The intent was to move this discourse toward the more contentious points of inter-American philosophical exchange and precisely because I believe that fostering a broader, truly American philosophical discourse is a legitimate aspiration. The Deweyan in me believes that this kind of community of engaged inquirers is the best group to encourage the sort of ground-up change that Alexis Massol and others call us to make.Finally, the most personally authentic response to Pappas's critique is that the parts of the book that sought parallels between the horrific crimes and injustices of American imperialism and American Pragmatism were my attempt to heed Anzaldúa's imperative from Borderlands/La Frontera to accept the doppelganger in our psyches, to acknowledge and correct the “negative” parts of ourselves that we have pushed onto mexicanos and other latine peoples for centuries (Anzaldúa 86). Since I take to heart her claim that the tendency of white Americans is to displace our problems onto others, it is essential for me to fully know myself and my cultures in the context of colonialism. While Pappas is, of course, right to say the problems are not entirely due to yanqui colonialism, it is also certainly the case that white Americans are still casting their faults onto people they frame as Others and scapegoating Latin American immigrants as the source of their woes. So, as with the responses above, it felt right to me to air out these more critical perspectives on not just US foreign policy but also the philosophies of the United States, in order to work against the tendency that Anzaldúa sees in white folk to let ourselves off the hook and the push our faults onto others.As with Pappas above, I am greatly honored that Alexander Stehn would write such a thoughtful and nuanced critique that demonstrates such a careful reading of the book. I am heartened that a scholar as well versed as Alex would say that he learned from the book. If that is so, I am sure that it is because this book's primary value is ostensive: it hopefully functions as a signpost directing the reader to dig deeply into the works of thinkers like Pedro Albizu Campos, Fernando Zalamea, and Henríquez Ureña, who are still little-read in English-language settings. I am excited for Stehn's students to get to read Albizu's political philosophy alongside works by Socrates, King, and Zea! Still, Stehn is too gracious by directing the first part of his comments to developing insights that are largely praiseworthy of the book.However, I have long noticed that whenever a philosopher starts a critique with kind and thoughtful comments of praise, they will follow with a shot to the heart. Stehn's third point, which is well-warranted and framed very gently, is that I fail to give the reader enough access to my inner life. Stehn is correct to note that this is a significant failing on my part since I specifically frame the book in part as my effort at an Anzaldúan autohistoria that strives to draw insights by blending personal introspection with traditional approaches to history and theoretical analysis. My friend and colleague Alex is correct that the moments of self-reflection are too few and certainly less brave and self-revelatory than those of first-order writers in this genre, like Anzaldúa, Lugones, and Mariana Alessandri.1Therefore, my first response to Stehn's critique is to simply cop to the fact that I am less skilled and less brave than these and other authors that I emulate and hold up as guides. For what it's worth, that was me, as someone from an Irish-Italian Catholic family who learned to repress and conceal all problems at an early age, trying to be self-revelatory! However, Stehn is correct that the book certainly would have been stronger had I delved more deeply into the truths of my life being brought up as a gringo in Puerto Rico. A more authentic autohistoria would have done a more thorough job of reclaiming my own doppelganger and illustrating what it might mean to be a white, straight guy who sincerely strives to adopt his version of the mestiza consciousness that Anzaldúa argued we all need to develop. In particular, I should have connected the dots more explicitly between the colonial laws and policies that enabled my parents and me to move to Puerto Rico in the 1970s and the colonial and white supremacist ideas and habits that I learned from my family and perpetuated myself that often put me out-of-sorts with the people I was lucky to be raised with.Stehn asks what experiences still haunt me about my childhood that I did not address in the book. There are lots and too many to talk about today, but I will say the most difficult ones center around my mom, Joan, who passed away a few weeks before our panel in Boston. She was born into crushing poverty in New York City during the Great Depression and learned early-on to be ashamed of her poverty as well as her Italian heritage, which she learned to associate with poverty. She spent most of her life working hard to care for her five kids and to make sure we were well-prepared to “succeed in life,” which to her meant to make the most of white privilege by doing well financially and getting as far as possible from the rough Bronx upbringing she had. She therefore found it a cruel and mirthless joke to have worked her way all the way to the comfort and status of the white-flight New Jersey suburbs only to find herself back in an apartment in a crowded city. She also manifested and conveyed to me the logic of a white supremacist ideology that sorted people according to the same racial taxonomy that she learned as a kid, the one that made her suspicious to my dad's Irish father, but nonetheless just barely inside the lines of whiteness. If I were a braver writer, I would have perhaps written about the wounds within mi propia alma (my own soul) born of being taught by the person who loved me best in the world that I should be terrified of “the Puerto Ricans” and then to have to go make friends and live in Puerto Rico.There is, perhaps, a mitigating factor to Stehn's critique that I do not bring myself sufficiently to account in my work, and I offer this not by way of self-defense, but to hopefully illuminate a significant point. As with my response to Pappas's critique above, I strove through this work to eschew any pretense of a view sub specie aeternitatis in favor of a work that was mindful of my context and situatedness. So while Stehn is right that the work would have been more valuable were I braver in my self-analysis, I think that, as a person situated in a context of great lived privilege, it is proper for me to balance out a tendency toward taking up more space than is fair. To make the point simply, I did not want the work to be about me, but instead about how I might open an important discussion on how to develop an inter-American philosophical community capable of addressing the legacy of US colonialism across the Americas. Therefore, perhaps autohistoria should look different for me than it did for Anzaldúa. If I am lucky enough to have my gig as a professor long enough to write another book (my university just announced we were moving to a “polytechnic” model that emphasizes STEM and professional fields even more than they already are, so perhaps I will yet become another over-educated Irish-American bartender after all!), I will continue to find the right balance between being forthright about my own efforts to reclaim my doppelganger and heal the splits in my heart and being humble and quiet in the self-awareness that people like me have spoken too much already, and that sometimes the wisest thing for me to do is to stop talking. (shrink)

Este artículo pretende abrir una línea de trabajo en la que confluye el área de la restauración y la didáctica. Se muestra un proceso de restauración basado en la mínima intervención, en cuanto a pérdidas de policromía se refiere, pero se ofrece como una herramienta medio para la enseñanza. El proyecto posibilita que la tabla se exhiba como pieza modelo en una sala del Museo Arte Sacro de Teruel, que el público visualice y conozca el mecanismo técnico de creación de (...) una tabla del siglo XV y que, mediante la recreación virtual y la utilización de imágenes de la misma temática de otras obras de relevancia, se proponga cómo pudo ser la tabla de Olalla en origen. En definitiva, se plantea realizar una prueba piloto que pueda servir para otras obras con circunstancias similares. Palabras clave: pintura gótica, Aragón, siglo XV, restauración y conservación, nuevas tecnologías, educación patrimonial, didáctica de la pintura, musealización.. This project aims to be a new line of work where restoration and didactics fields converge. It shows a process of restoration based on the minimum intervention in terms of loss of polychromy. However, it is offered as a tool for teaching. In this specific case, this table is shown as a model piece through its exhibition in a room at Sacred Art Museum of Teruel. Following this project, it will be possible to visualize and learn the technical mechanism of creation of a 15th century panel reinforced with a virtual recreation using digital media to show how it could have been in origin, as well as using images of the same subject matter of other relevant works. The main focus of this project is to serve as a pilot test for other works with similar circumstances. Key words: gothic painting, Aragon, 15th century, restauration and conservation, new technologies, heritage education, painting education, musealization. (shrink)

The International Panel on Social Progress is an independent association of top research scholars with the goal of assessing methods for improving the main institutions of modern societies. The IPSP has produced a report consisting of twenty-two chapters in three volumes that distills the research of these scholars and outlines what the best social science has to say about positive social change. Written in accessible language by scholars across the social sciences and humanities, these volumes assess the achievements of (...) world societies in past centuries, the current trends, the dangers that we are now facing, and the possible futures in the twenty-first century. It covers the main socio-economic, political, and cultural dimensions of social progress, global as well as regional issues, and the diversity of challenges and their interplay around the world. The authors offer a cautious optimistic conclusion: multiple ideas for social progress and better policies are already available and deserve to be tested and implemented. (shrink)

This is the third of three volumes containing a report from the International Panel on Social Progress. The IPSP is an independent association of top research scholars with the goal of assessing methods for improving the main institutions of modern societies. Written in accessible language by scholars across the social sciences and humanities, these volumes assess the achievements of world societies in past centuries, the current trends, the dangers that we are now facing, and the possible futures in the (...) twenty-first century. It covers the main socio-economic, political, and cultural dimensions of social progress, global as well as regional issues, and the diversity of challenges and their interplay around the world. This particular volume covers topics such as world cultures and religions, families, global health, education, and the contributions of social sciences to institutional change. (shrink)

En janvier 1783, deux musiciennes, Bianca Sacchetti et Andrianna Ferrarese, s’enfuirent de l’ospedale des Mendicanti, à Venise, pour tenter leur chance sur les scènes de théâtre. Formées dans l’une des quatre institutions vénitiennes destinées à recueillir les orphelins de Venise, elles étaient devenues des musiciennes hors pair, chantaient chaque jour dans la chapelle de l’ospedale et jouaient de plusieurs instruments. Le dossier consacré à leur fugue, qui se trouve toujours à l’Archivio di Stato de Venise, nous donne les circonstances et (...) les raisons de leur fugue, mais fournit également des informations précieuses et uniques sur les aspirations des « filles du choeur » à une vie meilleure. Des documents inédits illustrent les relations d’amitié qui pouvaient exister entre deux jeunes femmes recueillies par charité et suffisamment talentueuses pour avoir réussi à devenir deux des meilleures musiciennes de Venise. Retrouvées par les autorités, elles poursuivirent d’ailleurs une brillante carrière, l’une à l’opéra, l’autre au sein de l’ospedale, la Ferrarese créant même l’un des rôles du Così fan tutte de Mozart. (shrink)

This is the first of three volumes containing a report from the International Panel on Social Progress. The IPSP is an independent association of top research scholars with the goal of assessing methods for improving the main institutions of modern societies. Written in accessible language by scholars across the social sciences and humanities, these volumes assess the achievements of world societies in past centuries, the current trends, the dangers that we are now facing, and the possible futures in the (...) twenty-first century. It covers the main socio-economic, political, and cultural dimensions of social progress, global as well as regional issues, and the diversity of challenges and their interplay around the world. This particular volume covers topics such as economic inequality and growth, finance and corporations, labor, capitalism, and social justice. (shrink)

Regulation is nothing without enforcement. This particularly holds for the dynamic field of emerging technologies. Hence, this article has two ambitions. First, it explains how the EU´s new Artificial Intelligence Act (AIA) will be implemented and enforced by various institutional bodies, thus clarifying the governance framework of the AIA. Second, it proposes a normative model of governance, providing recommendations to ensure uniform and coordinated execution of the AIA and the fulfilment of the legislation. Taken together, the article explores how the (...) AIA may be implemented by national and EU institutional bodies, encompassing longstanding bodies, such as the European Commission, and those newly established under the AIA, such as the AI Office. It investigates their roles across supranational and national levels, emphasizing how EU regulations influence institutional structures and operations. These regulations may not only directly dictate the structural design of institutions but also indirectly request administrative capacities needed to enforce the AIA. (shrink)

In this encounter between one of the twentieth century greatest philosophical minds and an artist fundamental to our understanding of the development of modern art, Michel Foucault explores Manet.s importance in the overthrow of traditional values in painting.

The study of the scene of a woman grabbing the tail of a horse ridden by a male figure in Yeh Pulu relief is the author's basis of concept in the creation of contemporary painting. Before the concept was discovered, a study was conducted of the scenes in the relief based on Panofsky's iconological theory and three stages of analysis, namely pre-iconography, iconography, and iconology. The attempt to connect the Panji narrative with the scene of a woman pulling a (...) horse's tail aims to enrich the analysis of the interpretation. Both the narration and the scene revolve around a love story of two people separated by distance and time. The Panji narrative tells about a love story between Raden Galuh, a princess of Daha Kingdom and Prince Panji, the crown prince of Kahuripan Kingdom, who have long been separated before they finally reunite at the end of the story. The scenes in the Yeh Pulu relief revolve around everyday heroism. This connection is framed as a post-iconological interpretation, which results in three concepts of art creation: reframing, recasting, and globalizing. (shrink)

Contrary to the traditional viewpoint which interpreted Plato’s stance towards poetry as derogatory, more recently scholars have rightly argued that Plato’s treatment of painting is too complicated to be dismissed as negative only. Painting is for Plato a well-adapted analogy which allows him to discuss highly intricate philosophical issues, as, for example, the relationship of the forms with our earthly realm of sense-perception. It also provides him with useful vocabulary to conduct his philosophical investigations. In this paper, I (...) focus on Plato’s employment of one particular pictorial technique, that of shadow-painting. I argue that this innovative 5th century technique served Plato as a metaphor for discussing the intricate philosophical issue of opposition and antithesis. In specific terms, Plato associates the technique of skiagraphia with the poets, sophists and the unsophisticated non-philosophical majority. (shrink)

There exists a venerable tradition of interdisciplinary research into the origins and development of Paleolithic cave painting. In recent years this research has begun to be inflected by rapid advances in measurement techniques that are delivering chronological data with unprecedented accuracy. Patterns are emerging from the accumulating evidence whose precise interpretation demands corresponding advances in theory. It seems that cave painting went through several transitions, beginning with the creation of simple lines, dots and disks, followed by hand stencils, (...) then by outlined figures, and finally by naturalistic figures. So far the most systematic evidence comes from Europe, although there are also indications that this sequence could be a universal pattern. The shamanic hypothesis provides a useful theoretical starting point because of its emphasis on the role of performance and phenomenology in the creative process. However, it still tends to reduce this sequence to mere stylistic and thematic changes that were external products of an already fully formed modern mind. Here I show how key insights from semiotics and material engagement theory can advance this explanatory framework to the extent that we become able to postdict the major transitions in the chronology of Paleolithic cave painting. An intriguing implication is that this is at the same time a chronology of cognitive changes, namely from a performative-phenomenological to a reflective-representational mind. (shrink)

The object of the study is the image of an emaciated horse in Chinese culture. It represents a real artistic phenomenon, serving as a reflection of the self-perception of authors who are faced with a sense of alienation and injustice, isolation from society, and the inability to get help. The subject is the image of thin horses in the painting by the Italian Catholic artist Giuseppe Castiglione, who arrived in China for missionary work. His stay in China coincided with (...) a period of strong rejection of Catholicism in the country. The article pays special attention to the use of the image of a skinny horse as a metaphor, a veiled way to convey the subjective perception of the situation at the Qing court. The emaciated animal is considered by the author both as a visual phenomenon enriching the variety of characters in the paintings, and as a reflection of philosophical reasoning about the relationship between man and society. Formal-stylistic and structural-semantic types of analysis became the leading research methods. With their help, the author studied the compositional structure, coloristic features and semantic aspects of the fragments of the painting analyzed in the article by Giuseppe Castiglione. The scientific novelty of the research is due to the small number of thematic publications in Russian art history. One can find scientific works on Chinese culture devoted either to the image of horses in general, or taking into account exclusively the work of Giuseppe Castiglione. Combining the analysis of the image of an exhausted horse as such and the analysis of the painting "A Hundred Horses", the author closed the gap in a highly specialized art criticism problem, arguing the theses put forward with biographical data about the artist and historical references. New information deepens knowledge about the cultural characteristics of the Chinese people and can serve as an aid for further research by art historians. The author comes to several conclusions. First, he discovers the specific philosophical significance of the image of an emaciated horse. Secondly, it notes its stability in various creative figures. Thirdly, he reveals the peculiarities of the fate of Giuseppe Castiglione using the example of "Hundreds of Horses". (shrink)

Within the framework of this study, the transformation of anthropomorphic images in Medieval and Renaissance painting is analyzed. The visual art of this period is considered as a specific space of "conversation about man", which existed in parallel with discourses about God-man and Man-god. As a means of communication between man and God, the icon, using anthropomorphism in the image of the archetype, represented to the medieval man a certain path and a guide to his own salvation. Along with (...) individual anthropomorphic and naturalistic features, areal ones were also used in iconography, for example, reverse perspective, halo, "twisting of figures" and a number of others that set the symbolic content of the religious image. В В According to the author, the transformation of the icon into a painting in the XIII-XIV centuries was associated not only with the technical development of fine art (the widespread use of direct perspective, the use of camera obscura and oil paints), but also with significant changes that occurred in the intellectual space of Europe. The narcissistic turn in Renaissance art, expressed in the dissolution of the boundaries between the human and the divine, the maximum naturalization of religious content, as well as in the development of self-portraits, is, first of all, a turn from the discourse about God-man to the discourse about Man-God. Relying on philosophical sources, two independent positions (Ficino and da Vinci) on the nature of metamorphosis and the place of pictorial images in the description and definition of man are considered. (shrink)

The First World War was the scenario that led to the invention and systematic use of military camouflage techniques. Between them, the two fundamental modes of static or pictorial camouflage: mimetic, known as Disruptive Pattern Material, and the naval, called Dazzle Painting. Avantgarde artists contributed to their birth. Immediately, there was the transfer of these techniques to the civilian sphere, revealing that its essentially practical essence did not prevent the exploitation of its aesthetic potential by contemporary visual culture. Throughout (...) the twentieth and twenty-first centuries the fields of art, architecture and design continue importing and exploiting the strategies of these two types of military camouflage. This article analyzes the artistic potential of static military camouflage devised during World War I and its impact on the setting of an expanded notion of camouflage. If the camouflage was in its origins and early history a form of disclosure of modern art on a global scale, the use of DPM and Dazzle by contemporary artists, is a form of dissemination of military camouflage to civil level. We explore a double investment produced by military camouflage: providing avantgarde art with a practical sense, and providing camouflage with an aesthetic sense. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Journal of the History of Ideas 63.3 (2002) 399-424 [Access article in PDF] Representation and the Body of Power in French Academic Painting Amy M. Schmitter [Figures] Reputation of power, is Power... Hobbes, Leviathan, Bk. I, ch. x Introduction It seems natural, even obvious, to distinguish between representations and what they are representations of. A picture of a dog is no more a dog than the word "dog" (...) is a furry, tail-wagging mammal. Nor are properties belonging to the object of a representation necessarily properties of the representation: a picture of a big dog need not be big, a picture of a dog that resembles Fido need not resemble Fido; even a picture of brown Fido need not be brown. And no number of pictures of Fido will sympathetically induce changes in Fido or any other dog. But however clear-cut this distinction may be when what is in question are pictorial references to ordinary, middle-sized material particulars such as dogs, it is much less clear in other cases. It is no violation of common-sense to consider "representations" of such things as gender norms or national identities or selves as non-neutral in the face of what they represent. The representations of gender norms, for example, can extend and enforce them, can change or undermine them, and may well lend a hand in constituting them in the first place.My theme here is a form of pictorial representation, one found in the theory and practice of that strain of French Academic painting under Louis XIV associated with Charles LeBrun. LeBrun held the titles of First Painter to the King and Director of the French Royal Academy of Painting, and the works I will examine were devoted to the royal power. That one effect of royal power is the ability to command resources and to cause the proliferation of representations, especially flattering representations, is no surprise. But I intend to suggest something stronger: not only did these Academic representations present an expenditure [End Page 399] of royal power, they were meant to embody and therefore extend royal power—even to constitute royal power. The view under examination does not simply collapse the common-sense distinction between signifying properties and what is signified; indeed those relations play an important role in one concept of representation modeled on language and written texts. But to this the academicians added another, more robust concept, one that does not distinguish clearly between the representation and its object.Implausible as this view may seem at first blush, I think it can prove genuinely explanatory: explanatory for thinking about pictorial representation, about how it can operate (on both its object and its viewer), and about its relation to power. But to see its explanatory value demands considering the nature and needs of state power. For unlike middle-sized material particulars, state power requires recognition to exist. Although that recognition need not be explicit, conscious, or voluntary, it must be widespread, and pictorial representations can be a powerful device for eliciting such recognition. Yet state power in general— or at least the particular form in question here—may demand that the constitutive role of recognition be disguised. Indeed many of the views and concepts of pictorial representation developed by the Academy reverse the dependence of power on recognition; they function in an ideology of representation. Nonetheless, I think that certain "formal," or structural, features of LeBrun's works can be explained in terms of how they elicit recognition and constitute this particular form of royal power. I make no claim that LeBrun's works must be explained so: for one, the royal power represented by LeBrun's works is long gone, and his representations do not now have any miraculous power to raise the dead. For any representations actually to operate as I suggest requires the support of a whole complex of institutions and activities committed to the care and feeding of state power. It is only because such a complex did exist that LeBrun's representations could have a recognizable object, i... (shrink)

This article presents a phenomenology of artistic painting as an anticipatory process. I propose that the artist seeks to establish a state of equilibrium in a model of self-awareness expressed and represented in a self-constituted physical artefact intended to communicate to others, not representationally but affectively. ‘Neural painting’ is an arts-based research method employing a simple computational model of human aesthetic discrimination to study the creative realization of the artistic image. I use this method to explore the relationship (...) of self and ‘other’ in computationally mediated self-portraiture. I develop an image in an exchange with a neural network by reflecting on its output and inputting autographic modifications to those images, blending visceral gesture with the ‘black box’ of artificial intelligence. Through this deeply personalized and perhaps agonistic interchange between organic self and algorithmic reflection, I seek to expose the tacit mediation implicit in the technical artefact, opening an understanding of the existential relations between natural systems (the artist) and technical entities positioned as collaborators in an anticipatory aesthetics. (shrink)

‘Spirit consonance engendering a sense of life’ (Qi Yun Sheng Dong) as the first law of Chinese painting, originally proposed by Xie He (active 500–535?) in his six laws of painting, has been commonly echoed by numerous later Chinese artists up to this day. Tracing back the meaning of each character of ‘Qi Yun Sheng Dong’ from Pre-Qin up to the Six Dynasties, along with a comparative analysis on the renderings of ‘Qi Yun Sheng Dong’ by experts in (...) Western academia, I establish ‘spirit consonance’ as the rendering of ‘Qi Yun’. By examining texts on painting by significant critics in Chinese art history, and by referring to specific works by painters from the Six Dynasties up to the Yuan Dynasty, I present the merits and demerits of the different interpretations by Western experts, and explore the essence of ‘Qi Yun’. Once the painter successfully captures ‘spirit consonance’ as the essential character or ‘internal reality’ of the object, and transmits it into the work, ‘Qi Yun’ further implies the expressive quality of the work beyond formal representation. Additionally, the fusion of expressive and representative functions also leaves space for further explaining the aesthetic interaction among artist, object, work, and audience. From the Six Dynasties onwards, Chinese painters have practised the expressive pursuit beyond epresentation on the basis of the unification of ‘Qi Yun’ (spirit consonance) and formal representation, although spirit consonance was valued more highly than formal likeness. (shrink)

According to the Song critic Guo Ruoxu, the last five laws by Xie He are "open to study," while qiyun 氣韻 "necessarily involves an innate knowledge; it assuredly cannot be secured through cleverness or close application, nor will time aid its attainment. It is an unspoken accord, a spiritual communion; 'something that happens without one's knowing how'".1 For Guo Ruoxu, although the qiyun within a work refers to the quality of a painting and cannot be identical with the qiyun (...) of the artist, the ability to produce a painting replete with qiyun is determined by the painter's innate mental disposition. This idea has been echoed... (shrink)