Registros são falsos e ineficientes. Não existe a possibilidade de se falar exatamente sobre uma coisa, ou a descrição seria a própria coisa. É o que Peirce nos diz sobre a metáfora: se ela fosse perfeita, não seria uma metáfora. E Flusser, lindo como sempre, apóia tal raciocínio quando diz que a fotografia não é uma janela para o universo, mas uma interpretação de algo do universo. (Flusser, 1985)

Geralmente comete-se o equívoco de pensar na fotografia ou o vídeo como capturas da realidade. O que acontece, no entanto, é que eles têm o potencial de construir realidade, mas disso tratarei mais tarde, em outro texto. Atenho-me aqui ao equívoco de se pensar numa neutralidade do registro, numa captura do real. Toda imagem é uma construção parcial feita a partir de escolhas restritas às possibilidades aparelhísticas de quem imagina - entenda imaginar como construir imagens.

Desfeito o mito da imagem imparcial, posso dizer agora que o registro da dança é um falso registro. Meu foco não tem sido fotografia ou vídeo ou análise verbal de coreografia, logo não faz sentido que eu produza esse tipo de material. A coreografia se apresenta a partir do corpo humano. Vídeo não é coreografia e, portanto, ele não é o meio apropriado para que se apresente coreografia.

Proponho, portanto, um espaço livremente reflexivo para que questões pertinentemente verbais possam ser levantadas.

“Tendemos a perceber nosso ambiente como contexto de jogos, como o século 18 tendia a percebê-lo como contexto de mecanismos, e o século 19 como contexto de organismos. Por exemplo: para o século 18 o corpo humano era máquina, para o século 19 era conjunto vital, e para nós é jogo de sistemas complexos. (…) Tal tendência nossa para a ludicidade tem duas fontes. Uma é nossa práxis, que é a de jogo com símbolos. A outra é o fato de vivermos programados: programas são jogos.” (Flusser, 1983)

Esse é o primeiro parágrafo do delicioso texto “NOSSO JOGO”, contido em Pós-História, de Vilém Flusser, publicado pela primeira vez no Brasil em 1983. Já nos fala do corpo humano, aproximando-se da dança, quando diz que é “jogo de sistemas complexos”. Seja a arte uma maneira de subvertermos as regras dos jogos que participamos, quaisquer forem eles, de forma a conseguirmos fazer com que as virtualidades menos óbvias contidas no seu programa venham à tona, surpreendendo o programador: a dança, desse modo, poderia se constituir de estratégias para lidarmos esteticamente (e também eticamente, e talvez até de mais formas, mas preciso me familiarizar um pouco mais a esses termos) com o jogo de sistemas complexos que compõem o corpo humano.

Seguindo esse raciocínio, penso ser inevitável chegarmos à teoria “corpomídia” desenvolvida pelas professoras Helena Katz e Christine Greiner, da PUC-SP. Essa teoria nos propõe que o corpo é meio (já já posto sobre a minha recusa do uso da palavra mídia) de si mesmo, inclusive quando dança, negando a idéia do corpo no meio.

Quando existe dança, portanto, existe discussão de estratégias de como jogar com o aparelho corpo humano, que é o próprio meio em que o jogo (dança) acontece.

Vale lembrar que corpo e ambiente atuam coevolutivamente um sobre o outro e são indissociáveis. Logo, jogar com o corpo é também jogar com o ambiente; dançar é jogar nos limites do programa com corpo e ambiente coevolutivamente.

P.s.: tentarei me livrar gradativamente do vício em parênteses ou qualquer outro tipo de recurso explicativo no meio das frases.

[Esse post servirá para que o blog se situe no mundo e, principalmente, explicite as perguntas do autor que culminarão nos próximos escritos.]

“A Incerteza” foi um projeto que começou com o apoio do FID (Fórum Internacional de Dança) 2009, através do Programa Território Minas, que oferece bolsas de pesquisa em dança para pessoas de Minas Gerais. Esse ano, eu (Raul, o Incerto) e Joana Wanner fomos contemplados com a bolsa para a pesquisa, que teve seu resultado provisório apresentado nos dias 29 e 30 de outubro, no Espaço Cultural Ambiente, dentro da programação do FID 2009.

As investigações de “A Incerteza” tiveram como ponto de partida a investigação de algumas formas de entendimento do tempo ao longo da história da ciência – especialmente as noções de Isaac Newton (século XVII), da termodinâmica (séculos XIX e, a partir de Ilya Prigogine, XX) e de Albert Einstein (século XX). A partir dessas noções, nos perguntávamos como essas diferentes idéias poderiam influenciar na criação e execução coreográficas, e chegamos à dicotomia que acompanharia todo o projeto e permaneceria além dele: determinismo (o que, no entendimento de tempo, significa “futuro previsível” e “passado conhecido”) e não-determinismo (onde há a possibilidade da existência da novidade, pela existência do acaso). O estudo da música e vídeo, meios (pretendo dedicar um post ao porquê da escolha da palavra “meio”, e não “mídia”) que como a dança possuem o caráter de sucessão temporal explícito, provou-se um potencializador enorme para a investigação proposta, sendo responsáveis pela criação de quase todos os experimentos.

Após a apresentação do resultado da primeira etapa da pesquisa no FID 2009, a investigação do caráter de jogo dos experimentos criados e a exploração do erro como possibilidade de surgimento de novidade artística restaram como as propostas mais fortes, e são esses dois pontos os mais importantes para as perguntas proposta para a continuidade das investigações.

A filosofia programática proposta por Vilém Flusser (Praga, 1920-1991) tem tido importância enorme para as reflexões e será assunto para alguns posts que virão a seguir. Relacioná-la com a dança tem sido surpreendente pra mim, no sentido de que tem parecido mais pertinente do que pensei.

Bom, fica aqui a minha breve introdução a esse blog, que pretende ter muito mais caráter reflexivo que de registro – e a explicação dessa pretensão também fica pra outro post. Bacana que já tenho assunto pra outros três posts.

Foto: Cuia Guimarães / FID 2009

Tiré des travaux d’Alan Flusser, auteur de “Dressing the Man”

Du sommet du chapeau au revers du pantalon, l’art subtil de l’habillement masculin peut-être divisé en une série de “mini-scènes”, dont la plus au sud concerne le “rendez-vous” entre le pantalon, les chaussettes et les souliers. Et afin d’assurer en permanence une esthétique sans faille en dessous du genou, certaines règles sur les proportions doivent être respectées.

Une fois de plus, c’est le corps – et non pas la mode – qui devra dicter les choses à favoriser et celles à proscrire. LA règle de base commune à toutes situations est que le bas du pantalon devrait recouvrir environ les deux tiers du soulier. Les pantalons étroits en bas font que les grands pieds paraissent encore plus grands tandis que l’inverse est aussi vrai : les pantalons larges en bas font paraître les petits pieds encore plus minuscules.

Cette symétrie d’échelle entre le bas du pantalon et le soulier reste un pivot immuable de l’élégance masculine. Tout comme les chaussures d’opéra (slipper-type evening shoes ndt) fonctionnent parfaitement lorsqu’elles sont portées sous un pantalon de smoking sans revers, les Richelieux ou les Derbys à lacets, avec une cambrure assez pincée (beveled waist ndt) sont les meilleurs choix pour les pantalons de costume.

La cambrure pincée (voir photo ci-dessous) est le signe distinctif d’un soulier “habillé” tandis qu’une semelle “plate” convient bien aux modèles outdoor plus massifs.

Cheers, HUGO

]]> http://seansturm.wordpress.com/2009/11/07/spheres/ Fri, 06 Nov 2009 19:34:22 +0000 Sean Kohingarara Sturm http://seansturm.wordpress.com/2009/11/07/spheres/

sphaira (Gk)

1. ball, Homer, Odyssey 6.100.
2. any globe (Parmenides 8.43), thus, sphere, as a geometrical figure, etc., esp. the terrestrial globe, earth (Strabo 2.3.1).
3. hollow sphere or globe: in ancient physics, from the time of Anaximander, of the spheres believed to revolve round the earth carrying the heavenly bodies, and according to the Pythagoreans arranged after the intervals of the musical scale (Cicero, Republic 6.18; Aristotle, Metaphysics 1073b18); thus, sphaira aplanês, the sphere of the fixed stars, and hai planômenai sphaira, a planetary sphere (Plutarch 2.1028a).

Athanasius Kircher’s reconstruction of the sphere of Archimedes, imitating the motion of the planets with the aid of magnets.

From Magnes, Sive de Arte Magnetica (1643 ed.) 305.

sphairopoiia (Gk)

1. artificial sphere (hence the thaumaturgic globe-makers of Alexandria of the third century BC, the first of whom was apocryphally Archimedes; see Evans and Harley & Woodward);
2. making of the heavenly spheres

cf. sphairopoièsis, “invented” by Peter Sloterdijk to describe the generation of the characteristic shape or “thought-figure” of globalisation in its metaphysical (à la the Greek philosophers), territorial (à la the Iberian voyagers) and terrestrial (à la transcendental capitalism) forms (see “Geometry in the Colossal: The Project of Metaphysical Globalization“).

Archimedes’ hefting of the idea of the globe to the status of ruling metaphor in Greek science realized Plato’s metaphysical (or, as Sloterdijk might say, cosmogonic) theory of the cosmos in the Timaeus—and, to a lesser degree, Aristotle’s On the Heavens, which, alas, superceded Plato’s through the undue influence of Ptolemy’s cosmology (the Almagest). And he found us a place to stand—which was, of course, no place at all (he was playing Atlas, as all modern scientists do) . . .

Archimedes: “Give me a place to stand on, and I will move the Earth”

(δῶς μοι πᾶ στῶ καὶ τὰν γᾶν κινάσω).

From Pappus of Alexandria, Synagoge 7.

cf. Einstein: ”it is the theory that decides what we can observe” (Timothy Ferris, The Red Limit: The Search for the Edge of the Universe [Harper Collins, 1983]) and “μοχλός (lever) and μηχανή (machine)” and “‘About the Word Design’ by Vilém Flusser.”

Models for understanding the role of writing or writing studies in denaturalising and reworking the university, i.e. writing—Derrida calls it “philosophy”—as potentially a lever on the university (which in itself is a lever on nature—or rather, on culture or second nature; any lever being a machine that is designed to deceive, to cheat nature or to become nature), the question being the degree to which or which part of the old university might serve as the fulcrum on which the lever rests to vault us into the new one  . . .

1. The lever (μοχλός, mochlos)

Archimedes: “Give me a place to stand on, and I will move the Earth” (δῶς μοι πᾶ στῶ καὶ τὰν γᾶν κινάσω [from Pappus of Alexandria, Synagoge 7])

Vilém Flusser on the lever: “The Lever Strikes Back” (The Shape of Things: A Philosophy of Design [Reaktion Books, 1999] 51-54) and “About the Word Design” (Shape of Things 19). The lever, like all technologies, cheats the laws of nature by exploiting them, thereby “to replace what is natural with what is artificial”:

c.1300, from O.Fr. levier “a lifter, a lever,” agent noun from lever “to raise,” from L. levare “to raise,” from levis “light” in weight, from PIE base *le(n)gwh- “light, easy, agile, nimble.”

Jacques Derrida on the lever (“Mochlos; or, the Conflict of the Faculties” [1980; 1984], Eyes of the University: Right to Philosophy 2 [Stanford UP, 2004] 83-112 and Richard Rand [ed.], Logomachia: The Conflict of the Faculties [U NE P, 1992] 1-34):

To found (or find) something new in “history, morality or politics” involves a compromise with the old, the old thus serving as “a support [hypomochlion] for a leap” toward the new (hypomochlion: the point of support or fulcrum of a lever, centre of rotation of a joint, or point of rest of a process). The difficulty lies “in determining the best lever,” i.e. mochlos, “something, in short, to lean on for forcing and displacing” (or to throw into the eye of a Cyclops, perhaps). As a result, “the most serious discords and decisions have to do less often with ends . . . than with levers.” See Derrida 2004, 110-11:

———

2. The machine (μηχανή, mechane)

Henry Ward Beecher: “A tool is but the extension of a man’s hand, and a machine is but a complex tool. He that invents a machine augments the power of man and the well-being of mankind” (Proverbs from Plymouth Pulpit).

Vilém Flusser on the machine: “An Essay on the Ontological Standing of Photographs: An Essay on the Ontological Standing of Photographs” (Leonardo 19.4 [1 Oct. 1986]: 329-32), and “About the Word Design” (17). A machine is designed to deceive.

1549, “structure of any kind,” from M.Fr. machine “device, contrivance,” from L. machina “machine, engine, fabric, frame, device, trick,” from Gk. makhana, Doric variant of mekhane “device, means,” related to mekhos “means, expedient, contrivance,” from PIE *maghana- “that which enables,” from base *magh- “to be able, have power.” Main modern sense of “device made of moving parts for applying mechanical power” (1673) probably grew out of 17c. senses of “apparatus, appliance” (1650) and “military siege-tower” (1656). Machinery (1687) was originally theatrical, “devices for creating stage effects;” meaning “machines collectively” is attested from 1731.

The problem

Bill Readings, The University in Ruins (Harvard UP, 1996), the blurb:

It is no longer clear what role the University plays in society. The structure of the contemporary University is changing rapidly, and we have yet to understand what precisely these changes will mean. Is a new age dawning for the University, the renaissance of higher education under way? Or is the University in the twilight of its social function, the demise of higher education fast approaching?

We can answer such questions only if we look carefully at the different roles the University has played historically and then imagine how it might be possible to live, and to think, amid the ruins of the University. Tracing the roots of the modern American University in German philosophy and in the work of British thinkers such as Newman and Arnold, Bill Readings argues that historically the integrity of the modern University has been linked to the nation-state, which it has served by promoting and protecting the idea of a national culture. But now the nation-state is in decline, and national culture no longer needs to be either promoted or protected. Increasingly, universities are turning into transnational corporations, and the idea of culture is being replaced by the discourse of “excellence.” On the surface, this does not seem particularly pernicious.

The author cautions, however, that we should not embrace this techno-bureaucratic appeal too quickly. The new University of Excellence is a corporation driven by market forces, and, as such, is more interested in profit margins than in thought. Readings urges us to imagine how to think, without concession to corporate excellence or recourse to romantic nostalgia within an institution in ruins. The result is a passionate appeal for a new community of thinkers.

This sounds familiar.

The solution

Jeffrey J. Williams outlines the history of the idea of the university and offers a solution to this ruinous situation: teaching the idea, history, literature and sociology of the university in the university, specifically, in English departments that, as writing zones, are supposed to know well what is ostensibly the language of the university: writing (“Teach the University,” Pedagogy: Critical Approaches to Teaching Literature, Language, Composition, and Culture 8.1 [2007]: 25-42).

Jacques Derrida offers a radical—and perhaps utopian—response, arguing for “The University without Condition,” in which the “new humanities” will play a vital role, because they are concerned with humanity, human rights and crimes against humanity, the same concerns that “organise” mondialisation (globalisation), “which wishes to be a humanisation” (Without Alibi, trans. Peggy Kamuf [Stanford UP, 2002]):

(202)

(203)

What, then, is the role of the humanities in the university without condition? It is to exercise the right to speak without condition—“to say everything” and “to say it publicly,” as literature does (cf. Jacques Rancière, who might say that whereas the “police” operates via consensus, “politics” operates via dissensus; the university without condition would be “political”—or “redistributed” according to what he calls the “democratic heresy”):

(205)

(So I read Williams as more pragmatic than Derrida—or perhaps he’s just less Continental: for Derrida, literature, the writing of différance, will take over from philosophy as the language of university; for Williams, it seems, it’s writing per se.)

This solution is complicated if we view the historical situation in which we find ourselves as not amenable to humanistic, literary or writerly enquiry, as Vilèm Flusser suggests it is in “The Codified World” (Writings [U MN P, 2002] 35-41). His epochal reading of codes is as follows:

1. premodern/prehistorical: image—the scene (imagination: magic, myths)
2. modern/historical: writing—the concept (conception: explanations, theories, ideologies)
3. postmodern/posthistorical: techno-image—the program (techno-imagination: models, games)

For Flusser, we face a “crisis of values” at the transition to techno-images because the old written “programs,” politics, philosophy and science, not to mention art and history, have been disempowered (41).

I would say: the university is not in ruins—a certain idea of the university might well be: of the university as “literary” research institution, certainly, or, more broadly, of the human university. It is, in fact, in rude good health, not so much in the Crystal Palace of the Business School, the “excellent” (transparent/transcendentally capitalised) university, with its reduction of governance to calculability, but in the face-to-face encounter in the place of learning, wherever it should be.

Said “excellent” university wants to count its students and research outputs, but it does not account for itself (it is non-reflexive); teachers in the university ought to account for themselves—as should students (they should be reflexive). This teachers can do, not by grading students and counting research outputs, but by taking account of the “distribution of the sensible” (a description of what counts) that prevails in the place of learning: affect from below (democratic affect); deformance, intentional and otherwise; decryption; etc. . . . (of which more later).

And because the “excellent” university is also an “exploded” university, it is distributed well beyond the walls of the Crystal Palace through the relatively autonomous—and thus relatively incalculable—nodes of remote learning and other @-universities; and encloses within its walls other similar nodes, such as centres, writing-studies classrooms (!), and (post-)seminars.

Flusser argues that once we become aware of design—as deceptive, and bridging art and technology—art and technology are demystified, i.e. de-signified (stripped of their “value” or significance, i.e. their “truth [meaning] and authenticity [aura]“; cf. Walter Benjamin) . . .

Give me but one firm spot on which to stand, and I will move the earth (Archimedes)

In English, the word design is both a noun and a verb (which tells one a lot about the nature of the English language). As a noun, it means—among other things “intention,” “plan,” “intent,” “aim,” “scheme,” “plot,” “motif,” “basic structure,” all these (and other meanings) being connected with “cunning” and “deception.” As a verb (“to design”), meanings include “to concoct something,” “to simulate,” “to draft,” “to sketch,” “to fashion,” ‘to have designs on something.” The word is derived from the Latin signum, meaning “sign,” and shares the same ancient root. Thus, etymologically, design means “de-sign.” This raises the question: How has the word design come to achieve its present-day significance throughout the world? This question is not a historical one, in the sense of sending one off to examine texts for evidence of when and where the word came to be established in its present-day meaning. It is a semantic question, in the sense of causing one to consider precisely why this word has such significance attached to it in contemporary discourse about culture.

The word occurs in contexts associated with cunning and deceit. A designer is a cunning plotter laying his traps. Falling into the same category are other very significant words: in particular, mechanics and machine. The Greek mechos means a device designed to deceive—i.e. a trap—and the Trojan Horse is one example of this. Ulysses is called polymechanikos, which schoolchildren translate as “the crafty one.” The word mechos itself derives from the ancient MAGH, which we recognize in the German Macht and mögen, the English “might” and “may.” Consequently, a machine is a device designed to deceive; a lever, for example, cheats gravity, and “mechanics” is the trick of fooling heavy bodies.

Another word used in the same context is “technology.” The Greek techne means “art” and is related to tekton, a “carpenter.” The basic idea here is that wood (hyle in Greek) is a shapeless material to which the artist, the technician, gives form, thereby causing the form to appear in the first place. Plato’s basic objection to art and technology was that they betray and distort theoretically intelligible forms (“Ideas”) when they transfer these into the material world. For him, artists and technicians were traitors to Ideas and tricksters because they cunningly seduced people into perceiving distorted ideas.

The Latin equivalent of the Greek techne is ars, which in fact suggests a metaphor similar to the English rogue’s “sleight of hand.” The diminutive of ars is articulum—i.e. little art—and indicates that something is turned around the hand (as in the French tour de main). Hence ars means something like “agility” or the “ability to turn something to one’s advantage,” and artifex—i.e. “artist’—means a “trickster” above all. That the original artist was a conjurer can be seen from words such as “artifice,” “artificial” and even “artillery.” In German, an artist is of course one who is “able to do something,” the German word for art, Kunst, being the noun from können, “to be able” or “can,” but there again the word for “artificial,” gekünstelt, comes from the same root (as does the English “cunning”).

Such considerations in themselves constitute a sufficient explanation of why the word design occupies the position it does in contemporary discourse. The words design, machine, technology, ars and art are closely related to one another, one term being unthinkable without the others, and they all derive from the same existential view of the world. However, this internal connection has been denied for centuries (at least since the Renaissance). Modern bourgeois culture made a sharp division between the world of the arts and that of technology and machines; hence culture was split into two mutually exclusive branches: one scientific, quantifiable and “hard,” the other aesthetic, evaluative and “soft.” This unfortunate split started to become irreversible towards the end of the nineteenth century. In the gap, the word design formed a bridge between the two. It could do this since itis an expression of the internal connection between art and technology. Hence in contemporary life, design more or less indicates the site where art and technology (along with their respective evaluative and scientific ways of thinking) come together as equals, making a new form of culture possible.

Although this is a good explanation, it is not satisfactory on its own. After all, what links the terms mentioned above is that they all have connotations of (among other things) deception and trickery. The new form of culture which Design was to make possible would be [i.e.,] a culture that was aware of the fact that it was deceptive [i.e., designed]. So the question is: Who and what are we deceiving when we become involved with culture (with art, with technology—in short, with Design)? To take one example: The lever is a simple machine. Its design copies the human arm; it is an artificial arm. Its technology is probably as old as the species homo sapiens, perhaps even older. And this machine, this design, this art, this technology is intended to cheat gravity, to fool the laws of nature and, by means of deception, to escape our natural circumstances through the strategic exploitation of a law of nature. By means of the lever—despite our body weight—we ought to be able to raise ourselves up to touch the stars if we have to, and—thanks to the lever—if we are given the leverage, we might be able to lever the world out of its orbit. This is the design that is the basis of all culture: to deceive nature by means of technology, to replace what is natural with what is artificial and build a machine out of which there comes a god who is ourselves. In short: The design behind all culture has to be deceptive (artful?) enough to turn mere mammals conditioned by nature into free artists.

This is a great explanation, is it not? The word design has come to occupy the position it has in contemporary discourse through our awareness that [Thus?:] being a human being is a design against nature. Unfortunately, this explanation will not satisfy us. [No:] If in fact design increasingly becomes the centre of attention, with the question of Design replacing that of the Idea, we will find ourselves on uncertain ground. To take one example: Plastic pens are getting cheaper and cheaper and tend to be given away for nothing. The material they are made of has practically no value, and work (according to Marx, the source of all value) is accomplished thanks to smart technology by fully automatic machines. The only thing that gives plastic pens any value is their design, which is the reason that they write. This design represents a coming together of great ideas, which—being derived from art and science—have cross-fertilized and creatively complemented one another. Yet this is a design we don’t even notice, so such pens tend to be given away free—as advertising, for example. The great ideas behind them are treated with the same contempt as the material and work behind them.

How can we explain this devaluation of all values? By the fact that the word design makes us aware that all culture is trickery, that we are tricksters tricked, and that any involvement with culture is the same thing as self-deception. True, [+] once the barrier between art and technology had been broken down, a new perspective opened up within which one could create more and more perfect designs, escape one’s circumstances more and more, live more and more artistically (beautifully). But [-] the price we pay for this is the loss of truth and authenticity. In fact, the lever is about to lever all that is true and authentic out of our orbit and replace it mechanically with perfectly designed artefacts. And so all these artefacts become as valuable as plastic pens, become disposable gadgets. This becomes clear when we die, if not before. Because despite all the technological and artistic arrangements we make (despite hospital architecture and death-bed design), we do die, just as other mammals die. The word design has managed to retain its key position in everyday discourse because [i.e.,] we are starting (perhaps rightly) to lose faith in art and technology as sources of value. Because we are starting to wise up to the design behind them.

This is a sobering explanation. But it is also an unavoidable one. A confession is called for here. This essay has had a specific design in mind: It set out to expose the cunning and deceptive aspects of the word design. This it did because they are normally concealed. If it had pursued another design, it might, for example, have insisted on the fact that “design” is related to “sign”: a sign of the times, a sign of things to come, a sign of  membership. In that case, it would have given a different, but equally plausible, explanation of the word’s contemporary situation. That’s the answer then: Everything depends on Design.

“About the Word Design” ["Vom Wort Design"]. The Shape of Things: A Philosophy of Design [Vom Stand der Dinge: Eine Kleine Philosophie des Design]. Trans. Anthony Mathews. 1993. London: Reaktion Books, 1999. 17-21. Also translated as “On the Word Design: An Etymological Essay.” Trans. J. Cullars. Design Issues 11.3 (Autumn 1995): 50-53. Also published in Alex Coles (ed.), Design and Art (London: MIT P, 2007) and Ben Highmore (ed.), The Design Culture Reader (London: Routledge, 2008).

One of the veins of Flusser’s Writings is the links between theory and praxis. The part of my notes I will share here stems from page 20 where he writes, “And, as in medicine, the should be, in the theory of communication, no neat distinction between theory and praxis.” The rest of his book, and the parts that precede this quote, demonstrate how Flusser observes the differences and similarities between theory and practice.

For instance, on the preceding page (19) Flusser notes, “Now, the theory of communication can show that, although mass media are being used almost exclusively for discourse, they could be changed in a way that would allow for dialogue as well.” Essentially, if we can dream it, it can be so no matter how fantastic the idea. He enumerates this point quite clearly in the essay “Designing cities.” Here he illustrates that although those who sketch out cities based on “Fantasies” or projections may be living in a land of illusion, their predictions tend to be more realistic than those offered by pessimists. Although city builder may start with a base of “current codes,” they continue to build up on the codes in the ever expanding network, which creates no forms of living. Consequently, those that desire to see the future, although imagining a fantastical world, are more likely to predict the evolution of the city. This is because the city builders create a theory of how contemporary society exists, not only as a static entity, but also how it exists through human practices, which are not likely to remain static with the continued creation of the network.

Furthermore, Flusser’s examination of Kafka’s work shows a relationship of the complex relationship between theory and practice. Flusser writes, “The message cannot be reduced to these thoughts. Instead, it contains an unarticulated and unarticulable dimension, which does not allow a flight into religious belief in the traditional sense, because it includes and overtakes belief” (p. 157). More simply, Kafka writing about religious undertones of society cannot fully articulate a denotative meaning of the phenomenon, but rather his message gets distorted and refined through the practice of his analysis. For instance, we cannot fully know K’s experience in The Trial without relating his experience to our own practice in reality. Essentially, our created codes (8-20) and their related systems of explanation (denotative and connotative meanings) can never replicate practice of our knowledge. Any reflection provides a glimpse of our created system of meaning, but never fully investigates the lived experience of created understanding.

I <3 Huckabees provides an excellent example of the interrelatedness of theory and praxis. Although we may know we're all connected, we can never get past our "natural" lived experiences and the codes we lie over them. I <3 Huckabees

O texto “A imagem sensível” de Eric Erói Messa, procura mostrar a expressividade sensória da imagem e a sua capaciadade de aplicabilidade nos meios digitais, utilizando-se para isso do conceito de hiperimagem. Esta, por sua vez, “não se trata de uma simples imagem, mas uma imagem com recursos adicionais (áudio, texto, programação, etc) oferecidos pela hipermídia”, ela se diferencia da imagem puramente ilustrativa também por possuir aspectos estéticos e através de sua construção hipermidiática pode nos encaminhar para um conceito científico, ou seja, ela possui uma nova função.

O texto inicia-se relembrando os conceitos de primeiridade, secundidade e terceiridade de Pierce, e enfatiza que “a intencionalidade da hiperimagem é trabalhar no campo da primeiridade”, que é tratada como sendo uma ‘gama de possibilidades’, ou seja, a formulação de questões que irão direcionar o pensamento. Mas o texto esclarece também que não podemos ignorar as diferentes interpretações das pessoas, afinal essa interpretação depende muito do repertório pessoal de cada indivíduo.

O autor não procura supervalorizar a imagem em relação ao texto(escrita), mas sim mostrar a sua complementaridade, e para isso utiliza-se de inúmeros exemplos sobre como a imagem hipermidiática consegue ajudar no processo de reflexão de trabalhos científicos. Acredito que esse sentido complementar da imagem é essencial para ‘concretizar’ um determinado conceito. Sendo assim concordo com Vilém Flusser quando diz que “o pensamento imagético está se tornando capaz de pensar conceitos”, ou seja, nós um dia seremos capazes de transmitir conceitos através de imagens e isso seria de total interesse da publicidade, pois a hiperimagem convida, chama a atenção e é através dessa imagem sensível que seria possível causar um choque (primeiridade) e atingir a própria sensibilidade do público.

Link do texto completo: http://breeze.faap.br/ntc05txt

Filosofia da Caixa Prata - Giselle Beiguelman e José Carlos Silvestre

LINK

Unter dem folgenden Link findet sich ein kleiner Versuch, das Wurzelwerk dieses Gedichtes zu beleuchten. Es ist wirklich nur ein – Versuch, in all der Unbeholfenheit und Fehlgängigkeit, die einem Versuch eigen ist.

Wurzelwerk – Mycele Phaeton

Leider weiß ich nicht, ob es technisch möglich ist, den Inhalt eines pdf-Dokumentes direkt im Blog anzuzeigen. Die WordPress-Hilfe scheint dieser Frage beständig auszuweichen und auf den upload-Vorgang zu verweisen. Dieser Artikel hilft jedoch nicht weiter.

Die Grafik entstand unter Verwendung eines Rubens-Bildes, das zur gemeinfreien Verwendung steht.

(Tiré des travaux d’Alan Flusser, auteur de “Dressing the Man”)

LA CHEMISE

En matière de proportion, le col de la chemise est l’élément-clé qui structure le visage et attire l’attention vers celui-ci. Le choix d’une chemise devrait être guidé principalement par l’adéquation entre la forme de son col et la forme du visage de celui qui la porte. Considérez le visage comme une peinture et le col comme son cadre. Une peinture de petite dimension requiert un cadre de même échelle., tout comme un homme au visage fin a besoin d’un col de dimension réduite. A l’inverse, un visage plus large sera mieux “encadré” par un cadre (le col) de plus grande dimension.

LA CRAVATE

La largeur d’une cravate a toujours été déterminée par la largeur des revers de la veste. Un homme possédant de petites épaules possède également une petite poitrine et donc peu de place pour le revers de sa veste. Il choisira donc des revers étroits qui dicteront la largeur de sa cravate (étroite elle aussi). Inversement, un homme dont les épaules sont larges aura recours à des revers de veste généreux et donc à une cravate plus large. La largeur moyenne du revers à cran (notch lapel) d’un veste droite se situe entre 9 et 10,5 cm. Choisir une cravate dont le bas se situe dans cette moyenne vous immunisera contre les caprices de la mode.

Cheers, HUGO

(Tiré des travaux d’Alan Flusser, auteur de “Dressing the Man”)

LE PANTALON DE COSTUME

Les pantalons de costume doivent prolonger la ligne de la veste. Ainsi les vestes à poitrine complète (“fuller-chested” ndt) seront accompagnées de pantalons de coupe classique (“fuller-cut” ndt), alors que les vestes plus ajustées seront accompagnées par des pantalons plus étroits.

La mentalité “jean’s” des années 60 avec des pantalons portés sur les hanches a enfin disparu. Même chose pour “l’ère Pierre Cardin” (70’s) et ses pantalons étroits à taille basse.

Aujourd’hui une bonne partie des pantalons de costumes offrent une ou plusieurs pinces pour procurer à la fois du confort et un allongement général de la silhouette. Ils sont portés à la taille naturelle et leur largeur est plus grande au genou qu’en bas, afin de respecter la ligne naturelle du corps.

Il est un fait que les pantalons de costume devraient être portés à la taille et pas aux hanches. Un pantalon porté à la taille naturelle fera paraître la taille plus fine et “remplira” en outre la partie basse ouverte de la veste, procurant un allongement global et salutaire de la plupart des silhouettes.

Le pantalon de gauche porté à la taille naturelle remplit le vide entre le pantalon et la veste (contrairement au pantalon de droite porté sur les hanches). Il emphase également la ligne de la jambe. Crédit photo : The Sartorialist

Cheers, HUGO

(Tiré des travaux d’Alan Flusser, auteur de “Dressing the Man”)

LA MANCHE DE LA VESTE

Lorsqu’elle est bien coupée, la manche d’une veste épouse parfaitement la ligne des bras. Complète au somment (en tête de manche – sleevehead), elle se rétrécit jusqu’au niveau du poignet. Ses lignes convergentes partent des épaules (l’endroit le plus large d’une manche) pour ensuite se rétrécir progressivement, de la poitrine jusqu’au poignet. Les manches qui sont trop larges en bas et qui ont tendance à flotter autour du poignet sont particulièrement inesthétiques et donnent une vilaine impression d’épaisseur.

La bande de tissu entre la manche de la veste et la main est un autre élément fondamental qui “signe” l’élégance d’une mise. Il est de coutume de dire qu’une manche de veste ne laissant pas apparaître un petit morceau du poignet de la chemise donne l’impression désagréable qu’il manque un morceau à la main…

Cheers, HUGO

LA GORGE ET LA LARGEUR DES REVERS

On appelle la gorge le point de jonction entre le col et le revers de la veste. A cet endroit, ils forment ensemble soit un “cran” (notch) soit une pointe (peak).

Notch Lapel

Peak Lapel

Le positionnement de la gorge sur une veste devrait se faire en fonction de la corpulence et non de la mode. Positionnez la trop bas, et la sanction sera immédiate : la longueur du revers sera réduite et donc les hommes petits paraîtront encore plus petits et les hommes forts encore plus gros. Pour un homme de petite taille, la gorge devra être positionnée le plus haut possible sur la poitrine car un long revers de veste allongera considérablement sa silhouette. A l’inverse, les hommes de grande taille pourront faire positionner la gorge de leur veste un peu plus bas afin de rééquilibrer leur silhouette et de gagner en illusion de largeur.

Il y a 20 ans, dans les années 80, cette élément fondamental de l’équilibre d’une veste (et donc d’une silhouette) a été outrepassé, voire oublié par Armani et consorts qui, tout en apportant une dose salutaire d’originalité et de créativité dans la mode masculine, ont  eu tendance à faire baisser les gorges des vestes et les tailles des pantalons. Il en a résulté une inélégance générale patente et surtout, un manque de longévité stylistique des costumes de cette époque. Aujourd’hui les passionnés de l’art sartorial s’accordent à dire que les années 80 furent désastreuses en termes d’élégance masculine (regardez des photos de réunions de famille de l’époque et vous verrez comme ces vêtements semblent presque aussi grotesques que les horribles vêtements des 70’s).

C’est la largeur des épaules d’un homme qui devrait dicter la largeur des revers de sa veste. Ainsi un homme très “carré” devrait choisir des revers de veste  larges afin d’équilibrer sa silhouette.

Afin que le V d’une veste boutonnée attire naturellement le regard vers le visage de celui qui la porte, la largeur des revers de la veste devrait également être en harmonie avec la largeur du noeud de cravate.

Sur ce sujet comme sur tous ceux qui touchent aux proportions, gardez en tête que la réussite passe par l’équilibre, l’équilibre et l’équilibre.

Demain dernier chapitre consacré aux proportions des vestes : le chapitre consacré à la longueur des manches, avant d’attaquer la suite de cette étude des proportions consacrée aux pantalons.

Cheers, HUGO

Pensando que as tecnologias de informação devam servir para ampliar as potencialidades de comunicação, decidimos utilizar um blog para “cobrir” o Seminário porque ele é hoje uma das ferramentas mais flexíveis para a edição de conteúdos.

Agora que o evento entra no aquecimento de seus motores, passaremos a postar informações mais diretamente ligadas à programação, começando com a indicação de um blog de Erick Felinto, que participa no dia 07 (terça), às 19h, com a conferência “Vampyrotheutis infernalis: a segunda natureza do cinema”.

Confira aqui um post recente de The Testament of Dr. Mabuse:

Acabo de ler o magnífico Dracula’s Legacy (Draculas Vermächtniss), de Kittler, para o paper da Socine 2009. Enquanto isso, leio aos poucos o Vampyrotheutis Infernalis, de Flusser, na beleza da língua em que originalmente foi escrito (não há tradução para outra língua, que o saiba). O segundo é para o Seminário Cinema, Tecnologia e Percepção, em julho. O que une essas leituras é a figura do vampiro. Um, o vampiro-símbolo, o vampiro-entidade cultural; o outro, o vampiro do mar (a criatura cuja manta e habitat lembram o vampiro). No HD, uma dezena de filmes de vampiros para se assistir. O objetivo do livro de Flusser (meta também do trabalho do Seminário): “den Anthropocentrismus zu überwinden und unsere Lebensbedingungen vom Standpunkt des Vampyrotheutis zu betrachten” (”superar o antropocentrismo e considerar nossa condição vital do ponto de vista do Vampyrotheutis”) (p. 15).

E você, acaso já esteve diante de um

?

(Tiré des travaux d’Alan Flusser, auteur de “Dressing the Man”)

LE PLACEMENT DU BOUTON PRINCIPAL D’UNE VESTE

Le bouton principal (waist button) est le véritable pivot d’une veste de costume. S’il est mal positionné, l’équilibre délicat peut être perdu et la veste complètement gâchée quelle que soit la qualité de son tissu ou de sa coupe. Ce bouton fonctionne en fait comme un axe : placez le trop haut, et votre torse sera réduit. Placez le trop bas, et votre torse deviendra surdimensionné par rapport à vos jambes qui elles, seront rétrécies.

Quand le bouton principal d’une veste est fermé (le premier pour une veste deux boutons, celui du milieu pour une veste trois boutons), il devrait, dans l’idéal, diviser le corps en deux parties de façon à ce que ET le torse ET les jambes produisent un effet de longueur maximum.

La position correcte de ce détail absolument crucial est, en théorie, 1/2 pouce (1,27 cm) en dessous de votre taille naturelle. Afin de déterminer la position de votre taille naturelle, placez vos mains de part et d’autre de la partie la plus fine de votre torse, et tout en pressant vers le bas, laissez les prendre leur place naturelle dans le vide juste au dessus de l’os des hanches (en gros, la taille naturelle se situe, généralement, 2 cm au dessus du nombril). La position théorique du bouton se situe donc, grosso modo, à 1 cm au dessus du nombril.

Comme ce bouton capital constitue le centre névralgique de la veste (notamment en termes d’aisance des mouvements), les tailleurs du Row, ont pour habitude (et tradition) de ne le positionner qu’au dernier essayage, en prenant soin de l’essayer à différents endroits (donc au millimètre près) afin de trouver LA position idéale : celle qui allonge le torse et les jambes, tout en assurant une excellente liberté de mouvement.

Prochain article consacré aux revers de la veste et à leur dimension.

Stay tuned gentlemen, HUGO

(Tiré des travaux d’Alan Flusser, auteur de “Dressing the Man”)

LA LONGUEUR DE LA VESTE

Le principal critère permettant d’établir la longueur idéale d’une veste est double : la veste doit être suffisamment longue pour couvrir le galbe des fessiers, tout en étant suffisamment courte pour donner aux jambes la ligne la plus longue possible.

Même si cette longueur idéale pour un homme peut varier d’un 1/2 pouce (1,30 cm) au cours de la vie, sans compromettre la longévité d’une veste, toute variation supérieure peut avoir un effet désastreux, notamment sur la position des poches. Par ailleurs il est normal qu’une veste soit légèrement plus longue à l’avant qu’à l’arrière, afin de “tomber” parfaitement.

Conséquence directe de la “mode” des années 80 (“les années Armani”), la majorité des hommes continuent aujourd’hui à porter des vestes et des manches de vestes beaucoup trop longues ce qui a pour effet de raccourcir de manière désastreuse les bras et les jambes.

Ceci est particulièrement criant en Extrême Orient, où le rapport “torse-jambes” (torse long-jambes courtes chez les asiatiques), est différent que celui que l’on observe en Occident . Ces personnes devraient donc, idéalement, faire très attention à la longueur de leurs vestes, ce  qui pourra les aider à ré-équilibrer les proportions.

Il existe deux méthodes pour déterminer la longueur correcte d’une veste. Ces deux méthodes ont été élaborées pour permettre aux fabricants de Prêt à Porter d’avoir des repères pour établir leurs tailles “standards”.

La première méthode utilise le bras comme repère : lorsque vous laissez pendre votre bras, la bas de la veste est supposé être aligné avec la phalange du pouce. Bien que cette formule soit relativement fiable, elle possède une faiblesse : la longueur des bras varie grandement d’une personne à une autre (et également d’un bras à l’autre, comme beaucoup d’entre nous l’ont découvert lors de leur première prise de mesure dans la fitting room).

La seconde méthode consiste à mesurer la distance entre le bas du col arrière de la veste (l’endroit où il est en contact avec le corps de la veste) et le sol, puis à diviser cette distance par deux. C’est la méthode la plus fréquemment employée dans les écoles de tailleurs.

Il va de soi que ces deux méthodes ne sont pas infaillibles, notamment par le fait qu’il n’existe pas deux corps humains qui soient strictement identiques en termes de proportions. Un tailleur en grande mesure n’utilisera d’ailleurs ni l’une ni l’autre de ces méthodes, mais utilisera plutôt son oeil expérimenté pour décider de la longueur idéale d’une veste par rapport à une vision globale de la morphologie de son client.

La suite de cet article sera consacré au positionnement du bouton de la taille (très important pour une veste) ainsi qu’à la largeur des revers.

Cheers, HUGO

(Tiré des travaux d’Alan Flusser, auteur de “Dressing the Man”)

Ce sont les couleurs et les motifs d’une veste de costume qui attirent l’oeil en premier. Mais ce sont les proportions qui le retiennent.

LES EPAULES DE LA VESTE

Les épaules étant ce qu’il y a de plus large dans une veste, ce sont elles qui fixent “l’esprit” du reste de l’objet. Les épaules de la veste ont également un impact direct sur le visage : si elles sont trop étroites, la tête apparaîtra plus grosse que sa taille réelle. A l’inverse, si elles sont trop larges, la tête apparaîtra beaucoup trop petite. Ainsi la règle (fondamentale) est simple :

- Si vous possédez une grosse tête (je n’ai pas dit LA grosse tête), alors choisissez une veste aux épaules larges et structurées.

- Si vous possédez une petite tête, vous serez mieux mis en valeur avec des épaules de veste raisonnables et, la plupart du temps, naturelles (sans padding donc).

L’épaule naturelle, adoptée par la Ivy League dans les années 20, est devenue synonyme de la maison Brooks Brothers (avec les chemises “button-down”) et de classe sociale supérieure.

A moins qu’un homme possède de toutes petites épaules ou qu’il ait vraiment besoin de relever la ligne de ses épaules pour produire une illusion de hauteur, les épaules de veste exagérément structurées et rembourrées (trop de padding) devraient être évitées.

Elles projettent l’image d’un homme artificiel et arriviste, qui essaye de paraître plus important qu’il ne l’est en réalité.

Demain, la suite de cette série avec un article sur la longueur de la veste.

Cheers, HUGO

(tiré des travaux d’Alan Flusser, auteur de “Dressing the Man”)

Gentlemen,

continuons notre apprentissage commun des fondamentaux de l’élégance masculine avec un chapitre crucial que nous ouvrons aujourd’hui : celui consacré à la maîtrise des proportions.

La maîtrise des proportions détermine largement la durée de vie potentielle d’un vêtement. En effet, le meilleur moyen de faire en sorte que n’importe quel vêtement acheté pendant une saison garde son potentiel stylistique à long terme, est d’apprendre à connaître sur le bout des doigts quelles proportions vous conviennent personnellement le mieux et pourquoi.

Le plus luxueux des blazers Navy en Cachemire sera, en effet, très vite obsolète si vous en avez fait l’acquisition pendant une saison durant laquelle les “dieux de la mode” ont décrété que sa longueur devait vous arriver en dessous du bout des doigts… Inversement, une chemise bon marché peut avoir une durée de vie plus longue qu’une chemise onéreuse à partir du moment où vous aurez, par exemple, compris qu’un col court et très écarté aura pour effet d’élargir encore votre visage déjà très rond.

Un vieux dicton de tailleur dit “Faites des compromis sur la qualité si vous y êtes obligés, mais ne faites jamais aucun compromis sur les proportions“.

Le non-respect des règles des proportions dans la manière de se vêtir est la cause fondamentale du manque d’élégance global actuel des hommes. L’obsolescence de votre garde-robe est également liée à une mauvaise interprétation, toujours éphémère, des proportions dites “classiques”, comme la “mode” des bas de pantalons évasés, des épaules sur-dimensionnées ou des souliers à bouts carrés.

Un vieux dicton très connu dans le monde des grands cuisiniers dit que “la qualité d’un chef doit se juger à l’aune de son met le plus simple : son consommé (sa soupe donc)”. De la même façon, l’habileté d’un homme à se vêtir se jauge à sa manière  de porter à la perfection les mises les plus simples. Ainsi, la première étape vers l’établissement d’un style personnel durable devrait consister à maîtriser à la perfection la mise la plus simple de son vestiaire  : costume, chemise blanche, cravate unie, chaussettes et souliers sombres. Cela ne veut pas dire qu’il devra se cantonner à ce type de mise. Cela ne veut pas dire non plus que cette mise lui permettra d’étudier toutes les subtilités liées à la maîtrise des proportions. Mais cela veut dire qu’il est indispensable de passer par cette étape fondamentale, avant de prétendre évoluer vers un niveau de sophistication sartorial personnel supérieur.

Le paradigme sartorial en ce qui concerne les proportions pourrait se formuler comme suit  : un ligne globale bien maîtrisée est le résultat de la somme de “mini-tableaux” qui, lorsqu’ils sont connus, maîtrisés et parfaitement exécutés forment une chorégraphie idéale des proportions, unique à chaque individu.

Lorsque vous aller commencer à dessiner votre propre cartographie corporelle, vous découvrirez très vite que vous devrez apprendre à négocier du mieux possible les 5 intersections principales : le cou, les épaules, la taille, les poignets et les chevilles. Chacune de ces zones contient un réseau complexe de lignes et de courbes qui, lorsqu’elles sont correctement connectées entre elles améliorent considérablement l’esthétique globale.

Fort heureusement pour nous, la forme du visage, la hauteur du cou, la largeur des épaules, la longueur des bras, la structure du torse et la longueur des pieds ne varient que très peu tout au long d’une vie d’adulte (nous permettant même quelques fluctuations de poids) ! Ainsi, contrairement à la mode qui se croit obligée de changer d’une saison à l’autre, apprendre à bien s’habiller ne consiste pas à viser sur une cible en mouvement perpétuel. Donc une fois que les règles fondamentales des proportions sont acquises et appliquées, tout homme sera en mesure de fonder son propre style et de voler de ses propres ailes.

Mais il convient de ne jamais oublier que la véritable originalité ne pourra se développer qu’avec une connaissance parfaite – et non pas une ignorance – des règles et de leurs restrictions.

A suivre, très vite, la première partie de cette étude des proportions qui sera consacrée aux vestes. Stay tuned gentlemen, HUGO

Gentlemen,

nous terminons ici notre série d’exemples (toujours tirés de “Dressing the Man”) sur l’application de la stratégie des couleurs, avec 4 exemples particulièrement intéressants. Le principe est toujours le même : deux photos. Celle de gauche ne respecte pas les techniques exposées dans nos précédents post, tandis que celle de droite respecte à la lettre ce savoir à la fois très simple et très pointu.

Je pense que la démonstration est limpide. La maîtrise de ces techniques est un must pour tout élégant et vous fera progresser vers la perfection sartoriale personnelle. Powerful isn’t it ? Cheers, HUGO

Gentlemen,

voici un deuxième exemple d’application de la stratégie des couleurs. Sur la prise de vue de gauche, cet homme blond est certes plutôt bien mis, mais le choix des couleurs ne respecte pas les fondamentaux que nous avons détaillés (contrastes déséquilibrés par la chemise blanche qui tranche trop). Sur la photo de droite, en revanche, les fondamentaux sont respectés avec, notamment, un travail de “résonance” yeux/chemises et surtout cheveux/cravate. Et là encore la différence est époustouflante (alors que le costume reste le même). Cheers, HUGO