Journal articles: 'U.S. National Focal Point' – Grafiati (2024)

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From the vantage point of August 1, 1985, the past three years are better characterized by what has failed to happen, politically, in realms directly affecting the concerns of applied linguistics in the United States than by what actually has happened. Despite 55 months of the Reagan Revolution, the Department of Education is still intact, and, with it, the Office of Bilingual Education and Minority Languages Affairs (OBEMLA). Bilingual education continues to receive federal funding, though predictably at levels that satisfy neither its advocates (too low) nor its detractors (too high).

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Jatio Sangsad Bhaban [JSB], more commonly known as the National Assembly Building, or Capital Complex of Bangladesh, was designed by the renowned architect Louis I. Kahn and is an iconic landmark in the urban landscape of Dhaka (Capital of Bangladesh). It was commissioned in 1962, and a site was selected on the northern outskirt of the then Dacca (Dhaka). From the inception of the city, the rapid growth occurred mostly in a spontaneous way, which later occurred surrounding the JSB. JSB has become a central physical focus in Dhaka because of organic growth of Dhaka. JSB, the national assembly building of Bangladesh, can be viewed as a product of Bangladeshi nationalism, a socio-political construct that expresses both the national identity and the democratic spirit of the Bengali people after the country’s tumultuous history of subjugation, occupation. This paper proposes that there exists an imagined, symbolic and metaphorical connection between the spatial construction of JSB as an urban focal point, and its socio-political construction. This imagined nexus is explored in this paper in line with the theoretical framework of Lefebvre’s (1991) groundbreaking treatise on the ‘production of space’. The imagined and real socio-political construction of space is also endorsed by a range of discourses from urban anthropology, urban geography, human and cultural geography.

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We test whether a nonbinding price ceiling may serve as a focal point for tacit collusion, using data from the credit card market during the 1980’s. Our empirical model can distinguish instances when firms match a binding ceiling from instances when firms tacitly collude at a nonbinding ceiling. The results suggest that tacit collusion at nonbinding state-level ceilings was prevalent during the early 1980’s, but that national integration of the market reduced the sustainability of tacit collusion by the end of the decade. The results highlight a perverse effect of price regulation.

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In Ecuador, following the late 2000’s commodity boom, a populist government invested increased oil revenues into social spending, reducing inequality, and gaining a rare period of political stability. The Yasuní National Park has been the focal point of this dynamic since 2006 when the government endorsed a ground-breaking plan to protect the park called the Yasuni ITT initiative. The initiative’s demise in 2013 raises the question: what explains the government’s initial support of, and then rejection of the ITT initiative? Upon combining the theories of extractive imperative and limited access order, this paper’s thesis is that, given Ecuador’s choice to fund public services through extractive industry rents, reducing extractive industry rents through constraining extractive industries is too painful politically. These theories help to structure a narrative, producing insights into the political dynamic impacting the ITT initiative and its eventual collapse. This thesis pursues its investigation through a case study of Yasuní National Park.

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Evia Island (Greece) lies in a transition zone from strike-slip faulting in the east, due to the strands of the North Anatolian Fault (NAF) that enter to the Aegean Sea, to normal faulting in the west along central Greece. In June 2003 a series of moderate events occurred in central Evia whose source parameters are investigated. These earthquakes caused serious damage to almost 20 residencies mainly in the town of Psachna. The sequence could be identified as an earthquake swarm with earthquake magnitudes in the range of 3 < M < 4.9. We used the Ρ and S arrivals at the stations of the National Seismic Network to relocate the events using the double-difference algorithm. All Ρ and S phase pickings were made by us using the broad band records from the network operated by the Geodynamic Institute of Athens. The relocated epicenters define a pronounced ENE- WSW zone, parallel to the high topography of the area. All depths are shallow from 1 to 8 Km. Regional waveform modeling was applied to determine the focal mechanisms of the larger events and FPFIT for the focal mechanisms of the smaller magnitude events. The majority of the focal mechanisms indicate normal faulting along almost E-W striking planes suggesting that deformation is mainly taken by normal faulting with a minor dextral horizontal motion. Normal faults with a N-S strike have been also observed showing that the E-W extension is present as it is observed in other parts of the Aegean region. Evia Island and its pattern of deformation is very interesting from the seismotectonic point of view. The fact that no large magnitude earthquake has occurred in Evia Island during instrumental times, makes the study of this earthquake swarm important. Previous work (Kiratzi, 2002) has shown that the deformation in northern Evia Island is taken up mainly by strike-slip faulting. Moreover, depending on the orientation of the activated faults in respect to the present state stress field, dextral or sinistral horizontal motion is observed. The Psachna earthquakes showed that an almost N-S extensional field prevails in central Evia Island with a few strikeslip focal mechanisms, suggesting that this part is mostly affected by the normal faulting system of central Greece.

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This article discusses three recent books that deal with the Croatian literary hi/story. In the first part of the work we discuss the issues of the contemporary post-structural and deconstructionist view of writing history. The argument is based on Alun Munslow’s thesis that it is not possible to write hi/story outside the narrative genre. The starting point of discussion is that hi/story (of literature) is only one of possible modal practices of narration/narrative. This means that history can only be read as one of many narratives while simultaneously it reflects the narrative that is produced by its nature/mode. That in many ways changes the way in which today, in poststructuralist and postmodern perspective, one can (and will) interpret the tradition of literary history as a “practical activity” (interpretation of meaning and/or philological discipline) but also as a story (construction). The tradition of Croatian literary history is very much dependent on the narrative(s) of the nation, the idea of its continuity in time (“diachronic development”) and on viewing literature as the narration of the nation, or as a major way of preserving national memory. In most books on the 19th and the 20th century national literary history this was the prevailing viewpoint of scholars who were constructing the Croatian cannon and national narrative as “agreed upon” hi/story “of the nation” (and its literary memory/canon). The three books discussed in this article, each in its particular way (methodologically and by its idea of how to interpret texts), change, or at least contribute to the change of this traditionalist storytelling that has become hi/story (of national literature). This article simultaneously challenges the tradition of (literary) history writing and interprets various aspects of reading hi/story anew in the works by three contemporary authors. It puts in perspective three different types of “politics of small differences” that form the basis of the original contributions. Brešić’s study into the Croatian 19th century literature shifted from writing the hi/story of writers and national narratives towards the modes of presentation and study of genres. Bagić’s study of contemporary literature for the first time treats traditional literary genres and new media, as well as popular culture, equally, thus allowing new insight into the possibilities of studying both fiction and its discursive frames. The third book discussed here introduces the discussion of the role that contemporary questioning of humanities as a discipline has in both post-structural environment and interpretative community of scholars. In conclusion, the article discusses the possibilities of reading (literary) history anew in the hegemonic environment of school system, academia and cultural paradigm of the “nation”.

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Being a low-income country of South Asia region, Bangladesh has been struggling with its health budget for increasing elderly population over the decades. However, concerns regarding the aging population and its impact on country’s socio-economic status have come to the forefront in the policy making and implementation towards national development in recent years. This paper is intended to discuss ethical issues, in context of principlism, that are likely to arise and the means to deal with ethical dilemmas in healthcare of elderly people involving seniors themselves and their service providers whether professionals or family members. To provide the highest level of care, the entire caregiving team needs to form a partnership having the best interest of the elderly people as their focal point while providing loving, appropriate care to enhance their quality of care, their quality of life and their happiness in the latter days of their lives which is coined as ‘healthy ageing’.

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ABSTRACT Over the past 20 years, the U. S. Coast Guard pursued an extensive R&D effort in oil spill response technology, producing a number of systems that have defined the current state of the art. In the mid-1980s, the R&D effort was scaled back due to declining national emphasis, and to its reaching a point of diminishing returns. Following the Exxon Valdez and several other catastrophic spills, the Coast Guard began reexamining the mission needs and technology to formulate a revitalized R&D effort for the 1990s. Workshops were held within the Coast Guard and with other federal agencies and industry, to identify spill response needs and R&D efforts that would support those needs. Several technology assessment efforts are currently underway. Based on these workshops and technology assessments, a five-year R&D program has been developed. The elements of this program are described in detail, including plans for cooperative efforts with other agencies, other countries, and industry.

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The uniform scattered fields of the cylindrical wave from a parabolic surface are obtained with the theory of the boundary diffraction wave (TBDW). The non-uniform diffracted field is calculated with the regenerated vector potential and rearranged by considering the Fresnel function to obtain the uniform solution. The uniform scattered fields are calculated as the sum of the diffracted and the geometrical optic fields. The numerical analyses of the diffracted and scattered fields in both uniform and non-uniform solutions are in harmony with the literature. Full Text: PDF ReferencesBaker, B. B., Copson, E. T., The mathematical theory of the Huygens' principles, 2nd Edition, Oxford Press, (1950). DirectLink Lit, J. W. Y. "Boundary Diffraction Waves due to a General Point Source and Their Applications to Aperture Systems" J. Modern Opt., 19, 1007 (1972). CrossRef Otis, G., "Application of the Boundary Diffraction Wave Theory to Gaussian Beams", J. Opt. Soc. Am., 64, 1545 (1974). CrossRef Ganci, S., "Boundary Diffraction Wave Theory for Rectilinear Apertures", Eur. J. Phys., 18, 229 (1997). CrossRef Longhurst, R. S., Geometrical and Physical Optics, 2nd Edition, Longmans [London], (1968). DirectLink Maggi, G. A., "Sulla Propagazione Libra e Perturbata delle Onde Luminose in un Mezzo Izotropo", Ann. di Mat. IIa, 16, 21 (1888).Rubinowicz, A., "Die Beugungswelle in der Kirchoffschen Theorie der Beugungsercheinungen", Ann. Physik, 4, 257 (1917). CrossRef Miyamoto, K. and Wolf, E., "Generalization of the Maggi-Rubinowicz Theory of the Boundary Diffraction Wave Part I", J. Opt. Soc. Am., 52, 615 (1962). CrossRef Miyamoto, K., Wolf, E., "Generalization of the Maggi-Rubinowicz Theory of the Boundary Diffraction Wave Part II", J. Opt. Soc. Am., 52, 626 (1962). CrossRef Born, M. and Wolf, E. Principles of Optics Seventh edition, Cambridge Univ. Press, (1999). CrossRef Alt?ngöz, C., Yalç?n, U. "Calculation of the Diffracted Waves from the Edge of an Opaque Cut Cylinder by the Boundary Diffraction Wave Theory", Journal of the Faculty of Eng. and Arch. of Gazi University, 28, 85, (2013). CrossRef Yalç?n, U. "Yutucu Yar?m Düzlemin Kenar?ndan K?r?nan Üniform Alanlar?n S?n?r K?r?n?m Dalgas? Teorisi ile Hesab?", Çankaya Üniversitesi 2.Müh. ve Tek. Sempozyumu, (2009). (In national language) CrossRef Lee, S. W. and G. A. Deschamps, \A uniform asymptotic theory CrossRef Lee, S. W., "Comparison of uniform asymptotic theory and Ufimtsev's theory of electromagnetic edge diffraction," IEEE Trans. Antennas & Propagat., Vol. 25, 162-170, 1977. CrossRef Yalç?n, U., "Uniform Scattered Fields of the Extended Theory of Boundary Diffraction Wave for PEC Surfaces", PIER M, 7, 29, (2009) DirectLink Yalç?n, U., "Analysis of Diffracted Fields with the Extended Theory of the Boundary Diffraction Wave for Impedance Surfaces", Appl. Opt., 50, 296 (2011). CrossRef Sarn?k, M., Yalç?n, U., "Uniform scattered fields from a perfectly conducting parabolic reflector with modified theory of physical optics", Optik-International J. for Light and Electron Opt., 135, 320 (2017). CrossRef Sarn?k, M., Yalç?n, U., "Modified theory of physical optics and solution for scattering fields from a perfectly conducting parabolic reflector", 16th Int. Conference on Math. Met. in Electromagnetic T. (MMET), July 5-7, Ukraine, 349 (2016). CrossRef Umul, Y. Z., Yalç?n, U. "Asymptotic Evaluation of The Edge Diffraction In Cylindric Paraboloidal Surface Antennas", Mathematical & Computational App., 8, 143 (2003). CrossRef Yalç?n, U., "Scattering from a cylindrical reflector: modified theory of physical optics solution", J. Opt. Soc. Am. A, 24, 502 (2007). CrossRef

Abstract:

At the end of the 19th and in the early 20th centuries the Ukrainian intelligentsia attached great significance to a personal contribution of everyone in the field of science and culture to the development of one’s homeland. One of those who shared this opinion was Vsevolod Mykhailovych Hantsov. He worked at the Petersburg university until 1918, then, in February 1919, he moved to Kyiv and joined the Ukrainian Academy of Sciences and the Ukrainian Party of Socialist-Federalists, which was headed by S. Yefremov. Also, he supported the Ukrainian People's Republic in the struggle against the Bolsheviks. In the Ukrainian and foreign historiography, the social and political views of Hantsov have received little attention. Therefore, in the current research, the evolution of V. Hantsov's views during the revolutionary events and the struggle for independence in 1917-1920's have been analyzed. His autonomous beliefs, which were formed under the influence of the Ukrainian community of St. Petersburg and his participation in the Ukrainian national movement, have been defined. The research has revealed that, like most participants in the Ukrainian national movement, Hantsov came to a firm belief that the formation of an independent state, which could finally solve the national, social, economic, scientific, and educational issues of the Ukrainian people, became an urgent need in his time. One of the ways of such self-affirmation was his scientific work in the field of linguistics. The little-known side of V. Hantsov's activities was his participation in the underground anti-Bolshevik associations, namely in the Brotherhood of Ukrainian Statehood (BUD) 1920-1924, which sought to restore the UPR (Ukrainian People's Republic). In the article, it has been revealed that the members of the BUD tried to become the focal point of the national movement on the territory of Kyiv region, condemned the Bolshevik policy of war communism, treated the NEP (New Economic Policy) and the policy of Ukrainization with a great deal of mistrust and caution. Taking into consideration the fact that so-called marginal representatives of the Ukrainian movement, including V. Hantsov, have been little explored so far, the research on the socio-political views of the figures of the Ukrainian national movement is extremely urgent in a modern scientific discourse.

Abstract:

At the end of the 19th and in the early 20th century the Ukrainian intelligentsia attached great significance to a personal contribution of everyone in the field of science and culture to the development of one’s homeland. One of those who shared this opinion was Hrygoryi Kostantynovych Holoskevych. He worked at the Petersburg publishing house ''Drukar'' until 1917, then, in August 1917, he moved to Kyiv and joined the Ukrainian Central Rada and the Ukrainian Party of Socialist-Federalists, which was headed by S. Yefremov. Also, he supported the Ukrainian People's Republic in the struggle against the Bolsheviks. In the Ukrainian and foreign historiography, the social and political views of Holoskevych have received little attention. Therefore, in the current research, the evolution of H. Holoskevych's views during the revolutionary events and the struggle for independence in 1917-1920's have been analyzed. His autonomous beliefs, which were formed under the influence of the Ukrainian community of St. Petersburg and his participation in the Ukrainian national movement, have been defined. The research has revealed that, like most participants in the Ukrainian national movement, Holoskevych came to a firm belief that the formation of an independent state, which could finally solve the national, social, economic, scientific, and educational issues of the Ukrainian people, became an urgent need in his time. One of the ways of such self-affirmation was his scientific work in the field of linguistics. The little-known side of H. Holoskevych's activities was his participation in the underground anti-Bolshevik associations, namely in the Brotherhood of Ukrainian Statehood (BUD), which sought to restore the UPR. In the article, it has been revealed that the members of the BUD tried to become the focal point of the national movement on the territory of Kyiv region, condemned the Bolshevik policy of war communism, treated the NEP and the policy of Ukrainization with a great deal of mistrust and caution. Taking into consideration the fact that so-called marginal representatives of the Ukrainian movement, including H. Holoskevych, have been little explored so far, the research on the socio-political views of the figures of the Ukrainian national movement is extremely urgent in a modern scientific discourse.

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Background and Purpose. In 1997, only 22% of licensed physical therapists living in California were members of the American Physical Therapy Association (APTA). This 1998 study was designed to identify the reason(s) why most licensed physical therapists in California choose not to belong to their profession's national association and to examine the demographics of nonmembers. Subjects. The subjects were a random sample of 400 California licensed physical therapists who were not members of APTA. Methods. The survey instrument included a demographic questionnaire and statements for response using a 5-point Likert-type scale. Frequency distributions were calculated for responses and demographic data. Nonparametric analyses were used to determine statistical significance. Chi-square analysis was used to compare responses to statements by gender and by full-time versus part-time work status. Spearman rank correlation coefficients were used to determine any relationships between demographic data (eg, gender and work status). The Mann-Whitney U test was used to determine any differences in responses to specific representation questions by those respondents who worked in specific practice environments. All statistical tests were 2-tailed tests conducted at the P&lt;.05 level, unless otherwise indicated. Means, standard deviations, and ranges were used where appropriate. Results. There was a 67% response rate. Eighty-nine percent of the respondents had been members of APTA. Eighty-eight percent of the respondents believed that APTA national dues were too high, and 90% thought California Chapter dues were too high. Discussion and Conclusion. Cost was the primary reason given for APTA nonmembership in California.

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AbstractIntroduction:International Emergency Medical Teams’ (I-EMTs) response to disasters has been characterized by a late arrival, an over-focus on trauma care, and a lack of coordination and accountability mechanisms. Analysis of I-EMT performance in past and upcoming disasters is deemed necessary to improve future response.Objective:This study aimed to describe the characteristics, timing, and activities of I-EMTs deployed to the 2015 Nepal earthquake, and to assess their registration and adherence to the World Health Organization Emergency Medical Teams’ (WHO-EMT; Geneva, Switzerland) minimum standards compared to past disasters.Methods:An online literature search was performed and key web sites related to I-EMT deployments were purposively examined. The methodology used is reported following the STARLITE principles. All articles and documents in English containing information about characteristics, timing, and activities of I-EMTs during Nepal 2015 were included in the study. Data were retrieved from selected sources to compile the results following a systematic approach. The findings were validated by the Nepalese focal point for the coordination of I-EMTs after the earthquake.Results:Overall, 137 I-EMTs deployed from 36 countries. They were classified as Type I (65%), Type II (15%), Type III (1%), and specialized cells (19%). Although national teams remained the first responders, two regional I-EMTs arrived within the first 24 hours post-earthquake. According to daily reporting, the activities performed by I-EMTs included 28,372 out-patient consultations (comprising 6,073 trauma cases); 1,499 in-patient admissions; and 440 major surgeries. The activities reported by I-EMTs during their deployment were significantly lower than the capacities they offered at arrival. Over 80% of I-EMTs registered through WHO or national registration mechanisms, but daily reporting of activities by I-EMTs was low. The adherence of I-EMTs to WHO-EMT standards could not be assessed due to lack of data.Conclusion:The I-EMT response to the Nepal earthquake was quicker than in previous disasters, and registration and follow-up of I-EMTs was better. Still, there is need to improve I-EMT coordination, reporting, and quality assurance while strengthening national EMT capacity.Amat Camacho N, Karki K, Subedi S, von Schreeb J. International Emergency Medical Teams in the aftermath of the 2015 Nepal earthquake. Prehosp Disaster Med. 2019;34(3):260–264.

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In the article the author analyzes some aspects of the cultural and educational activity of Kremenets Gymnasium named after Ivan Steshenko referring to the materials of Kremenets regional society «Prosvita». The conducted analysis shows that the institution became the center of national life of Ukrainians in the region that contributed to the activation of the historical and ethnographic movement in Volyn. It was investigated that local lore studies were carried out on the one hand by Polish research and ethnographic societies, which used the support of the academic institutions of Poland, and on the other hand - Ukrainian local lore centers based on the cultural and educational centers of Western Ukraine, in particular on the Scientific Society of them. Shevchenko, «Prosvita», museum institutions, etc. And certain achievements of the local lore movement in Volhynia became possible to a large extent due to the active work of Prosvita in Kremenets, whose figures influenced the formation of the national consciousness of Ukrainians. On the basis of the analysis of the source base of the research, the investigator presents the facts of the opening of the Ukrainian gymnasium named after Ivan Steshenko, which began functioning on October 1, 1918, and became the focal point of the national life of Ukrainians in the region. At the request of Kremenets' Prosvita, the Ministry assigned her the name of Ivan Steshenko, an active figure of the UPR, the Minister of Education. The opening of the gymnasium was a major event in the life of the region, as it began its activity as a state and was the only Ukrainian secondary school in the whole county. Study of the Ukrainian language and history of Ukraine in the gymnasium was mandatory. The first director of this educational institution was Sergey Milyashkevich, and later in different years of activity – I. Rey, Kobrin, L. Kontsevich. Kremenets Gymnasium was famous for its pets: Ulas Samchuk, Oksana Lyaturinskaya, Cyril Kutsyuk-Kochinsky, Maria Kavun-Kreminyarivska, who became famous writers. Many students of the high school distinguished themselves in the field of Ukrainian writing, education and culture. The author has pointed out the fact that many gymnasium students have been taken an active part in the events of the 40–50's of the twentieth century. The attention has been emphasized on Mykola Medvetsky (pseudo Hrin) as the leader of the rebel formation, who belonged to the secret youth organization «Yunak», which had appeared in an educational establishment. The indisputable role of the gymnasium in forming the intellectuals of the region, which left a significant trace not only in the history of Kremenets but also throughout Ukraine, is noted. The author concludes that the Ukrainian gymnasium named after Ivan Steshenko at that time became the center of the historical and ethnographic movement in the region. In spite of the interference of the then system in scientific life, obstacles on the part of the authorities, the Ukrainian gymnasium did a lot for the national revival of the region, contributed to the establishment of national education. Materials concentrated in the rayon society "Prosvita", contribute to the understanding of its historical heritage, the formation of national consciousness.

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Context Lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and queer (LGBTQ) athletic trainers (ATs) face uncertain acceptance in the workplace. Objective To examine the perceptions of National Collegiate Athletic Association (NCAA) student-athletes toward ATs who identified as LGBTQ. Design Cross-sectional design. Setting Web-based survey. Patients or Other Participants A total of 623 (males = 212, females = 403, other = 8; age = 19.7 ± 1.4 years) NCAA student-athletes completed the survey. Main Outcome Measure(s) Participants completed a 19-item survey to assess their perceptions about the appropriateness of, quality of care from, and comfort with ATs who identified as LGBTQ. We asked 10 demographic questions and 2 questions regarding the student-athlete's exposure to individuals who identified as LGBTQ. Five matrix questions had 5 stems each to represent LGBTQ individuals on a 5-point Likert scale (1 = strongly disagree, 5 = strongly agree) and 2 open-ended questions elicited qualitative data. We analyzed characteristics of central tendency to evaluate the level of appropriateness, quality of care, and level of comfort perceived by student-athletes of ATs who identified as LGBTQ. We used Mann-Whitney U and Kruskal-Wallis tests for post hoc analyses where appropriate. We used grounded theory to identify themes in the answers to the open-ended questions. Results Participants indicated they would seek health care and would feel comfortable approaching an AT who identified as LGBTQ. Participants agreed it was appropriate for an LGBTQ AT to work with both male and female sports and did not agree that health care provided by heterosexual and LGBTQ ATs differed. The open-ended responses revealed 4 themes: professionalism, upbringing, situational concerns, and concerns about specific populations that affected their perceptions. Conclusions In general, the NCAA student-athletes had positive perceptions of ATs who identified as LGBTQ.

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The Himalayan Nepal - Tibet PASSCAL Seismic Experiment (HIMNT) included the deployment of 28 broadband seismometers throughout eastern Nepal and southern Tibet in 2001- 2002. The main goals of the project were to better understand the mountain building processes of this region through studies of seismicity and Earth structure determined from local and teleseismic earthquakes. The seismic deployment was in collaboration with the National Seismological Centre, Department of Mines and Geology, Nepal, and the Institute of Geology and Geophysics of the Chinese Academy of Sciences. Our new subsurface images from HIMNT teleseismic receiver functions and local earthquake tomography show evidence of the basal decollement of the Himalaya (Main Himalayan Thrust, MHT) and an increase in Moho depth from - 45 km beneath Nepal to -75 km beneath Tibet. We find strong seismic anisotropy above the decollement, likely developed in response to shear on the MHT. The shear may be taken up as slip in great earthquakes at shallower depths. Many local earthquakes were recorded during the deployment, and the large contrast in crustal thickness and velocity structure over a small lateral distance makes the use of a 3D velocity model important to determine accurate hypocentres. Large north-south variations are found in P and S wave velocity structure across the array. High Pn velocities are found beneath southern Tibet. Seismicity shows strong alignment of shallow (15-25 km depth) events beneath the region of highest relief along the Himalayan Front, and a cluster of upper mantle earthquakes beneath southern Tibet (70-90 km depth). Weak-mantle models do not expect the upper mantle earthquakes. Focal mechanisms of these upper mantle earthquakes beneath southern Tibet are mostly strike-slip, markedly different from the norm al faulting mechanisms observed for earthquakes in the mid and upper crust beneath Tibet. This change in the orientation of the major horizontal compression axis from vertical in the upper crust to horizontal in the upper mantle suggests a transition from deformation driven by body forces in the crust to plate boundary forces in the upper mantle. Several lines of evidence point to a decoupling zone in the Tibetan mid or lower crust, which may be related to the presence of a previously suggested flow channel in the Tibetan mid crust.

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From the theoretical point-of-view, the azulejo has been studied in Portugal since the second half of the nineteenth century through a perspective that increasingly highlights the idea of originality and, more recently, the identity factor. Actually, today the azulejo is regarded as one of the arts that best identifies Portuguese heritage. However, is it truly so? Is it reasonable to associate identity narratives with azulejo or is this idea connected only to issues of national marketing?Included in the Month of the Azulejo and the European Year of Cultural Heritage, AzLab#42 special seminar, entitled Identity(ies) of the azulejo in Portugal [1], aimed at debating issues of identity related to glazed tiles, focusing its attention both on the historiographic construction of this (these) concept(s) and on the different points that distinguish the Portuguese usage of the glazed tile from how other countries understand this art form.Following a protocol signed between the Rede de Investigação em Azulejo (Azulejo Research Network – ARTIS-IHA/FLUL) and the Amigos do Museu Nacional do Azulejo Association (Friends of the National Azulejo Museum), AzLab#42 took place at Amphitheater III of the School of Arts and Humanities of the University of Lisbon on October 4, 2018. The international call for papers had a significant number of proposals, from which, after a blind peer-review process, six were selected. To the latter, three other sessions were added with guest-speakers whose work has been acknowledged in this field of study, which in turn led to vigorous discussions in the several debates held during the seminar.For the reasons given, because it secures contributes of the several authors with different educational backgrounds and nationalities, the conference proceedings now published are enormously relevant for the future. In addition, this volume also fulfills one of the initial goals of this initiative: to introduce the scientific community’s perspective of this matter and contribute to the theoretical support of the Portuguese azulejo’s application to UNESCO World Heritage.ARTis ON’s special number mirrors AzLab#42 seminar’s program. As a result, it starts with a set of articles related to historiography, featuring studies dedicated to general themes which are followed by more specific ones. Nuno Rosmaninho’s article opens this volume with a study entitled “Portuguese azulejos and other national arts” in which the author seeks to “link the identity appropriation of the azulejo to a source common to most artistic discourse in the nineteenth and twenty-first centuries”.Focusing on differentiating issues, Alexandra Gago da Câmara and Rosário Salema de Carvalho list originality facts identified by European historiography until the mid-twentieth century, observing how these spring from seemingly diverse ideas to actually embody a set of well-defined points. From an even more funnelled perspective, Sandra Leandro explores Joaquim de Vasconcelos’ role in this context while João Pedro Monteiro addresses one of the most significant researchers in the glazed tile field of study – João Miguel dos Santos Simões.The appreciation of the convergent and divergent points between Portuguese and Spanish tiles, understood as focal loci for the azulejo’s universal reach, is presented by Jaume Coll Conesa. Following this study, there is a set of articles that, addressing the call for papers’ theme “azulejo: what identity(ies)”, considers certain distinctive characteristics. Fátima Rodrigues and Pedro J. Freitas analyse patterned tiles using mathematical models of classification; Cristina Carvalho examines advertising panels; Shelley Miller shows how her artistic interventions call the concept of identity into question and, continuing with contemporaneous studies, Inês Leitão ends this section by analysing how artists perceive identity issues associated with the azulejo.However, there is still plenty to debate and clarify. Indeed, one of the most interesting points concerning AzLab#42, and the articles now published, rests on the range of topics that arise as future research perspectives. Nevertheless, is the importance acknowledged to the azulejo today, how it distinguishes national landscape – whether by its physical presence or as a key element in the Portuguese collective imaginary – as well as its role as a reference to a broad set of other cultural and artistic displays, ranging from fashion to cuisine, enough to grant it the status of a culture’s identity defining art form? Or are we sometimes witnessing a discourse that aims to subordinate Portuguese tiles to a wider narrative, making them fit into a set of supposedly distinctive factors, which actually intends to build a national image for foreign consumption?Since we believe this volume is a contribution to the future and that from this initiative several others might be held, for the moment we must thank all participants and AzLab#42’s Scientific and Executive Committee. In addition, we would like to highlight the support given by Inês Leitão in terms of graphic design and organisation as well as by Rafaela Xavier and Fábio Ricardo.---[1] AzLab is a monthly seminar organised by the Az group – Azulejo Research Network, of ARTIS – Instituto de História da Arte da Faculdade de Letras da Universidade de Lisboa (Art History Institute of the School of Arts and Humanities of the University of Lisbon), in collaboration with the National Azulejo Museum (https://blogazlab.wordpress.com). AzLab’s goal is to create new analysis perspectives on issues related to the azulejo, among which are research, inventory, collecting, safeguarding, creating or divulging. The idea of developing a research lab on azulejo, which addresses experimental procedure concepts associated with these spaces, is applied to the discussion AzLab wishes to promote. It also introduces a concept foreign to art history, aiming at developing a multidisciplinary research. Every month a theme is submitted to public debate, which may stem from research projects, masters’ dissertations, PhD thesis, among others. National researchers, who are connected to the most diverse institutions, are invited to participate as well as, whenever possible, foreign scholars. AzLab#42 special Identity(ies) of the Azulejo in Portugal was a one-day conference, which was co-organised by the Amigos do Museu Nacional do Azulejo Association and also supported by Centro Atlântico publisher.

Abstract:

Background:Sjögren’s syndrome (SS) is a chronic autoimmune disorder. The major histopathologic lesion of it is a focal lymphocytic infiltrate around ductal and acinar epithelial cells, which include a majority of CD4+T. Several studies have shown that the epithelial cells in SS present diverse phenomena, such as MHC class II overexpression. CD4+T cells with cytotoxic activity (CD4 CTL) have been detected in various immune responses. They are characterized by their ability to secrete perforin and granzyme B to kill the target cells in an MHC class II-restricted fashion.Objectives:So this study was to investigate the correlation of peripheral CD4+GranzB+CTLs with disease severity and organ involvement in patients with primary Sjögren’s syndrome.Methods:We recruited 116 pSS patients and 46 healthy controls using flow cytometry to examine proportion of CD4+GranzB+CTLs in their peripheral blood, and immunofluorescence to test the expression of CD4+GranzB+CTLs in labial gland. The correlations of CD4+GranzB+CTLs and the relevant clinical data were analyzed.Results:We analyzed the percentage of CD4+GranzB+cytotoxic T cells in peripheral blood mononuclear cells (PBMCs) by flow cytometry. Frequency of peripheral CD4+GranzB+CTLs were measured in 116 patients with pSS and 46 healthy controls matched for age and sex. The percentage of CD4+GranzB+CTLs were significantly up-regulated in pSS patients than healthy controls (7.1%±4.9% vs 3.1%±1.9%, p <0.0001) and positive correlation with ESSDAI in pSS patients(r = 0.6332, p<0.001). The percentage of CD4+GranzB+CTLs were markedly higher in pSS patients with extraglandular manifestations. Moreover, CD4+GranzB+CTLs were observed in the lymphocytic foci and periductal areas of the LSGs and were elevated with increased foci index (FI). After excluding the other risk factors associated with pSS, CD4+GranzB+CTLs were still related to ESSDIA and extraglandular manifestations independently(p<0.05). ROC curve analysis indicated that the area under the curve (AUC) of CD4+GranzB+CTLs was 0.796 to predict the activity of pSS, and 0.851 to presume extraglandular manifestations. The best diagnostic cut-off point was 4.865 for pSS patients.Conclusion:In this study, We provide new evidence indicating involvement of CD4+GranzB+CTLs over activation in the disease pathophysiology of pSS, which may serve as a new biomarker to evaluate the activity and severity of pSS.References:[1]Takeuchi A, Saito T. Front Immunol. (2017) 23:194.[2]Brown DM, et al. Front Immunol. (2016) 9:93.[3]Polihronis M, et al. Clin Exp Immunol. (1998) 114:485-90.[4]Xanthou G, et al. Clin Exp Immunol. (1999) 118:154-63.[5]Maehara T, et al. Ann Rheum Dis. (2017) 76:377-385.[6]Goules AV, et al. Clin Immunol. (2017) 182:30-40.[7]Hashimoto K, et al. Proc Natl Acad Sci U S A. (2019) 116:24242-24251.[8]Croia C, et al. Arthritis Rheumatol. (2014) 66:2545-57.[9]Schmidt D,et al. J Clin Invest. (1996) 97:2027–37.[10]Pandya JM, et al. Arthritis Rheum. (2010) 62:3457–66.[11]Moosig F, et al. Clin Exp Immunol. (1998) 114:113–8.[12]Peeters LM, et al. Front Immunol. (2017) 20:1160.Table 1.Multivariate analysis of CD4+GranzB+CTLs influenced by pSS-related factorsregression coefficientstandard errort-statisticsp value95%CICD8+GranzB+CTLs(%)0.1440.0334.3346.9E-50.077, 0.211ESSDAI0.2560.1222.0950.0410.011, 0.502extraglandular manifestations2.6121.2682.0590.0450.065, 5.158Figure 1.Receiver operating characteristic (ROC) curve of the frequency of CD4+GranzB+CTLs to predict ESSDAI and extraglandular manifestations responseDisclosure of Interests:None declared

Abstract:

In this article one reports the production of the educational documentary titled “thermal ceiling/roof project”, which approaches an interdisciplinary work developed in a public state school in the city of São José do Rio Preto, SP. This documentary was made through the Teaching Centers of the Sao Paulo State University (UNESP) during the year 2016. The previous year, in 2015, students, teachers and administrators of this public school carried out a campaign to collect milk boxes for construction of a thermal ceiling/roof in the school courtyard, since the heat in this environment surpassed 42o Celsius in some days during the summer. Through the development of the project, high school and elementary school teachers and students have explored, from a practical and theoretical point of view, curricular contents related to the Mathematics, Natural Sciences and Portuguese Language disciplines. With the construction of the thermal ceiling/roof were collected 15,000 milk boxes and the heat in the courtyard decreased up to 8o Celsius. One concludes by monitoring the development of the project and the reports of teachers, students, administrators and members of the school community, that the project was significant from a curricular point of view - National Curricular Parameters - and that documentary production was socially important for dissemination of the didactic-pedagogical-environmental initiative of the school and for the learning of the participants.ResumoNeste artigo é relatada a produção do documentário educacional intitulado Projeto Teto Térmico, o qual aborda um trabalho interdisciplinar desenvolvido em uma escola estadual pública na cidade de São José do Rio Preto-SP. A realização desse documentário ocorreu por meio dos Núcleos de Ensino da Universidade Estadual Paulista (UNESP) durante o ano de 2016. No ano anterior, em 2015, alunos, professores e gestores dessa escola pública realizaram uma campanha de arrecadação de caixas de leite longa vida para construção de um teto térmico no pátio da escola, visto que o calor nesse ambiente ultrapassava os 42o Celsius em alguns dias durante o verão. Por meio do desenvolvimento do projeto, professores e alunos do Ensino Médio e dos Anos Finais do Ensino Fundamental exploraram, do ponto de vista prático e teórico, conteúdos curriculares referentes às disciplinas Matemática, Ciências Naturais e Língua Portuguesa. Com a construção do teto térmico foram arrecadadas 15.000 caixas de leite longa vida e o calor no pátio diminuiu em até 8o Celsius. Conclui-se, por meio do acompanhamento do desenvolvimento do projeto e dos relatos de professores, alunos, gestores e membros da comunidade escolar, que o projeto foi significativo do ponto de vista curricular – Parâmetros Curriculares Nacionais – e que a produção do documentário foi socialmente importante para divulgação da iniciativa didático-pedagógica-ambiental da escola e para a aprendizagem dos participantes. Keywords: Interdisciplinarity, Environment, National curricular parameters, Digital videos.Palavras-chave: Interdisciplinaridade, Meio ambiente, Parâmetros curriculares nacionais, Vídeos digitais.ReferencesBARBOSA, J. C. Modelagem na educação matemática: contribuições para o debate teórico. In: Reunião Anual da ANPED, 24., 2001, Caxambu. Anais... Rio Janeiro: ANPED, 2001.BORBA, M. C.; SCUCUGLIA, R.; GADANIDIS, G. Fases das tecnologias digitais em educação matemática: sala de aula e internet em movimento. 1. ed. Belo Horizonte: Autêntica, 2014.BRASIL. Parâmetros Curriculares Nacionais: Meio Ambiente. Brasília, MEC, 1997a.BRASIL. Parâmetros Curriculares Nacionais: Língua Portuguesa. Brasília, MEC, 1997b.BRASIL. Parâmetros Curriculares Nacionais: Ensino Médio. Brasília, MEC, 2002BRASIL. Base Nacional Comum Curricular. Brasília, MEC, 2017.D’AMBROSIO, U. Etnomatemática – Elo entre as tradições e a modernidade. Belo Horizonte: Autêntica, 2001.DOLL, W. E. A post-modern perspective on curriculum. New York: Columbia University, 1993.DUARTE, R. Cinema & educação. 3ª ed. Belo Horizonte: Autêntica, 2009.PERINELLI NETO, H. Cinema, educação e modernidade na perspectiva da extensão universitária. In: PERINELLI NETO, H. (org.) Ver, fazer e viver cinema: experiências envolvendo curso de extensão universitária. São Paulo: Cultura Acadêmica, 2016RAMOS, F. V. P. A. Documentário e roteiro de cinema: da pré-produção a pós-produção. 2007. 250p. Tese de doutorado (em Multimeios). Campinas: UNICAMP, 2007.SCHMUTZLER, L. O. F. Projeto forro vida longa. Campinas: UNICAMP, 2001.SKOVSMOSE, O. Educação matemática crítica: a questão da democracia. Campinas, SP: Papirus, 2001. 160 p.UNESP. Pró-Reitoria de Graduação. Estatuto dos Núcleos Regionais de Ensino da Unesp. São Paulo: Reitoria. S/D. Disponível em: <http://www.unesp.br/prograd/nucleos/estatuto. pdf>. Acesso em: 16 jun. 2016.

Abstract:

Представлена гипотеза о новом механизме ускорения химических реакцийс участием переохлажденной воды вблизи –45 °C. Гипотеза основана на свойствах второйкритической точки воды. Предполагается, что возрастание флуктуации энергии молекулводы приводит к ускорению протекания химических превращений. В эксперименте сиспользованием нанопористых увлажненных силикатных сорбентов удалось наблюдатьреакцию взаимодействия водорода с поверхностью пор при –45 °C. Химические реакциис участием воды по предполагаемому механизму могут ускоренно протекать на линииВидома при температурах от –45 °C до –53 °C и в области давлений от 0 до 100 MPa. ЛИТЕРАТУРА1. Palmer M. Y., Cordiner M. A., Nixon C. A., Charnley S. B., Teanby N. A., Kisiel, Z., Irwin P. G. J., MummaM. J. ALMA detection and astrobiological potential of vinyl cyanide on Titan // Science Advances, 2017,v. 3(7), p. e1700022/6. DOI: https://doi.org/10.1126/sciadv.17000222. Goesmann F., Rosenbauer H., Bredehöft J. 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Рекомбинационно-фононный механизм ускорения коррозии // Криосфера Земли, 2006, т. 10(3), с. 42–48.7. Шавлов А. В., Писарев А. Д., Рябцева А. А. Коррозия пленок металлов во льду. Динамикаэлектропроводности пленок // Журнал физической химии, 2007, т. 81(7), с. 1180–1185.8. Великоцкий М. А. Коррозионная активность грунтов в различных природных зонах // ВестникМосковского университета. Серия 5: География, 2010(1), с. 21–27.9. Лотник С. В., Казаков В. П. Низкотемпературная хемилюминесценция. М.: Наука, 1987, 176 с.10. Шабатина Т. И., Сергеев Г. Б. Реакции при низких температурах в химии наносистем // Успе-хи химии, 2003, т. 72(7), с. 643–663.11. Chaplin M. Water Structure and Science. Режим доступа: http://www.lsbu.ac.uk/water/chaplin.html(дата обращения: 23.09.2019)12. Rosenfeld D., Woodley W. L. Deep convective clouds with sustained supercooled liquid water downto - 37.5 °C // Nature, 2000, v. 405(6785), pp. 440–442. DOI: https://doi.org/10.1038/3501303013. Бордонский Г. С., Орлов А. О. Признаки возникновения льда “0” в увлажненных нанопористыхсредах при электромагнитных измерениях // Письма в Журнал экспериментальной и теоретическойфизики, 2017, т. 105(7-8), с. 483-488. DOI: https://doi.org/10.7868/S0370274X1708004514. Limmer D. T., Chandler D. The putative liquidliquid transition is a liquid-solid transition in atomisticmodels of water // Journal of Chemical Physics, 2011, v. 135, pp. 134503/10. DOI: https://doi.org/10.1063/1.364333315. Mishima O. Volume of supercooled water under pressure and the liquid-liquid critical point // Journalof Chemical Physics, 2010, v. 133(14), p. 144503/6. DOI: https://doi.org/10.1063/1.348799916. Handle P. H., Loerting T., Sciortino F. Supercooled and glassywater:Metastable liquid(s), amorphoussolid(s), and a no-man’s land // Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences USA, 2017, v. 114(51),pp. 13336-13344. DOI: https://doi.org/10.1073/pnas.170010311417. Speedy R. J., Angell C. A. 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Abstract:

RESUMENEl objetivo principal de este trabajo consiste en sacar a la luz elementos que permitan confirmar un sincretismo cristiano-judío inconsciente, no voluntario, en las creencias y prácticas religiosas de los judeoconversos castellanos en el momento de tránsito de la Edad Media a la Moderna. El trabajo se sustenta en la consulta y análisis de numerosos procesos inquisitoriales incoados a judeoconversos castellanos a fines del siglo XV y comienzos del XVI, así como en otra diversa documentación inquisitorial. A través de las fuentes estudiadas es posible detectar rasgos que evidencian una progresiva confusión entre creencias, expresiones y manifestaciones religiosas cristianas y judías, como expresión más patente de que las transferencias religiosas y la aculturación era una realidad a la que en ese tiempo estaban sujetos los conversos, incluso quienes, como los criptojudíos, se aferraban al judaísmo y manifestaban un firme convencimiento en la superioridad de la religión judía sobre la cristiana. La conclusión principal es que esta situación era el reflejo de una realidad en la que, rotas las conexiones con el judaísmo oficial, la “religión” de los criptojudíosse diluía paulatina y progresivamente en el seno del cristianismo.PALABRAS CLAVE: Judeoconversos, Castilla, fines del siglo XV y comienzos del XVI,sincretismo religioso, procesos inquisitoriales.ABSTRACTThe main objective of this study is to identify certain elements that may confirm an unconscious Christian-Jewish syncretism in the religious beliefs and practices of Castilian Conversos in the transition from the Medieval to the Modern Age. The research is based on consultation and analysis of numerous inquisitorial trials of Castilian Conversos at the end Inquisitorial records. The selected sources allow us to discern certain traits that point to a progressive confusion between Christian and Jewish religious beliefs, expressions and manifestations. This is a clear indication that religious transfer and acculturation constituted a reality to which Conversos were exposed. This was the case even among those who, like Crypto-Jews, clung on to Judaism and expressed a firm conviction of the superiority of the Jewish over the Christian religion. The main conclusion is that, once the connections with official Judaism were broken, the religion of the Crypto-Jews slowly but progressively dissolved into the mainstream of Christianity.KEY WORDS: Conversos, Castile, End of the Fifteenth and Early Sixteenth Centuries, Religious Syncretism, Inquisitorial Trials. BIBLIOGRAFÍAAusejo, S., Diccionario de la Biblia, Barcelona, Editorial Herder, 1964.Baer, F., Die Juden im Christlichen Spanien. I/2. Kastilien/Inquisitionakten, Berlín, 1936.Beinart, H., Records of the Trials of the Spanish Inquisition in Ciudad Real, Jerusalem, The Israel National Academy of Sciences and Humanities, 1974-1985, 4 vols.Beinart, H., “A Prophesyng Movement in Cordova in 1499-1502” (en hebreo), en I.F.Baer Memorial Volume, Zion, 44 (1979), pp. 190-200.Beinart, H., “Tenu’at ha-nebi ah Inés be-Puebla de Alcocer u-be Talarrubias we-anusehen sel ayyarot elleh”, en Tarbiz, 51 (1982), pp. 633-658.Beinart, H., Los conversos ante el tribunal de la Inquisición, Barcelona, Riopiedras Ediciones, 1983.Beinart, H., “Conversos of Chillón and Siruela and the Prophecies of Mari Gómez and Inés, the Daughter of Juan Esteban” (en hebreo), en Zion, 48 (1983), pp. 241-272.Beinart, H., “Anuse Alia (Halia) u-tenu’atah sel ha-nebi’ah Inés” (= “Los judeoconversos de Alía y el movimiento de la profetisa Inés”), en Zion, 53/I (1988), pp. 13-52.Bover, J. Mª, S. I., y Cantera Burgos, F., Sagrada Biblia. Versión crítica sobre los textos hebreo y griego, Madrid, Biblioteca de Autores Cristianos, 1961 (6ª ed.).Carrete Parrondo, C., Fontes Iudaeorum Regni Castellae. II. El Tribunal de la Inquisición en el Obispado de Soria (1486-1502), Salamanca, Universidad Pontificia de Salamanca-Universidad de Granada, 1985.Carrete Parrondo, C., Fontes iudaeorum Regni Castellae. III. Proceso inquisitorial contra los Arias Dávila segovianos: un enfrentamiento social entre judíos y conversos, Salamanca, Universidad Pontificia de Salamanca-Universidad de Granada, 1986.Carrete Parrondo, C. y Fraile Conde, C., Fontes Iudaeorum Regni Castellae. IV. Los judeoconversos de Almazán. 1501-1505. Origen familiar de los Laínez, Salamanca, Universidad Pontificia de Salamanca-Universidad de Granada, 1987.Christian, W. A., Jr., Apariciones en Castilla y Cataluña (siglos XIV-XVI), Madrid, Nerea, 1990.Edwards, J., “Elijah and the Inquisition: Messianic Profhecy among Conversos in Spain, C. 1500”, en Nottingham Medieval Studies, 28 (Nottingham University, 1984), pp. 79-94.Garrido Bonaño, M., O.S.B., Curso de Liturgia Romana, Madrid, Biblioteca de Autores Cristianos, 1961.Gitlitz, D. M., Secreto y engaño. La religión de los criptojudíos, Salamanca, Junta de Castilla y León, 2003.Gracia Boix, R., Colección de documentos para la historia de la Inquisición de Córdoba, Córdoba, Publicaciones del Monte de Piedad y Caja de Ahorros de Córdoba, 1982.Le Goff, J., La naissance du Purgatoire, Paris, Gallimard, 1981.Maier, J. y Schäfer, P., Diccionario del judaísmo, Estella, Editorial Verbo Divino, 1996.Rábade Obradó, M. P., “Expresiones de la religiosidad cristiana en los procesos contra los judaizantes del tribunal de Ciudad Real/Toledo, 1483-1507”, En la España Medieval, 13 (1990), pp. 303-330.Rábade Obradó, M. P., “Religiosidad y práctica religiosa entre los conversos castellanos (1483-1507)”, Boletín de la Real Academia de la Historia, tomo CXCIV, Cuaderno I (Enero-Abril, 1997), pp. 83-141.Rábade Obradó, M. P., “La instrucción cristiana de los conversos en la Castilla del siglo XV”, En la España Medieval, 22 (1999), pp. 369-393.Rábade Obradó, M. P., “Herejía y utopía en la Castilla de los Reyes Católicos. Los conversos y la esperanza mesiánica”, en Contreras Contreras, J., Alvar Ezquerra, J. yRábade Obradó, M. P., “Dos voces femeninas en la Castilla del siglo XV: sueños y visiones de los criptojudíos”, en Alvira Cabrer, M. y Díaz Ibáñez, J., Medievo utópico: sueños, ideales y utopías en el mundo imaginario medieval, Madrid, Sílex ediciones, 2011, pp. 53-66.Ruiz Rodríguez, J. I. (coords.), Política y cultura en la época Moderna. (Cambios dinásticos, milenarismos, mesianismos y utopías), Universidad de Alcalá, 2004, pp. 535-544.Scholem. G., The Messianic Idea in Judaism, New York, Schockem, 1971.Trebolle Barrera, J., “Apocalipticismo y mesianismo en el mundo judío”, en Mangas, J. y Montero, S., (Coords.), El Milenarismo. La percepción del tiempo en las culturas antiguas, Madrid, Editorial Complutense, 2001.

Abstract:

The problem in this research relates to the learning theory that rarely considered as a basis in learning in Indonesia. learning plans and syllabus structure in the national curriculum is not included learning theory point. learning theory only has been less studied in the subjects in geography education undergraduate. This makes learning theory material less explored. Learning theory is also often forgotten in educational research undergraduate and postgraduate programs. Many research did not allude to the relevance of learning theory in learning. After graduating, they less develop or linking learning theory with the teaching profession. That condition makes learning essence should be strengthened to become weak or even disappear.This research aims to describe the compatibility when applying outdoor study environment subjects with the psychological theories of intelligence and meaningful learning theory in senior high school. This research used a qualitative methodology with the type of descriptive exploitative research. Data sources are students and geography teachers. The process of collecting data uses the method of observation and interviews. Data were analyzed with the 6 Cresswell's qualitative analyzing steps. The results show that the application of outdoor study is suitable both the psychological theories of intelligence and meaningful learning. The compatibility is reflected in the learning activities, there are: before, during, and after working in the outdoor. The teacher's ability to implement the basis of psychological theories of intelligence and meaningful learning makes learning more easily understood and meaningful for students. Keywords: meaningful learning, outdoor study, psychological theories. References Agra et al. (2019). Analysis of The Cocept of Meaningful Learning in Light of The Ausubel’s Theory. Rev Bras Enferm 72(1), 248-255. Anderson, L.W., & Krathwohl, D.R. (2015). Kerangka Landasan untuk Pembelajaran, Pengajaran, dan Asesmen Revisi Taksonomi Pendidikan Bloom (Translate. Priantoro, A.). Yogyakarta: Pustaka Pelajar. Arikunto, S. (2016). Prosedur Penelitian Suatu Pendekatan Praktik. Jakarta: Rineka Cipta. Arsyad, A. (2014). Media Pembelajaran. Jakarta: PT Raja Grafindo Persada. Badakar, C.M et al. (2017). Evaluation of The Relevance of Piaget’s Cognitive Principles among Parented and Orphan Children in Belagavi City, Karnataka, India: A Comparative Study. Int J Clin Prediatr Dent. 10(4), 356-350. Becker et al. (2017). Effects of Regular Classes in Outdoor Education Settings: A Systematic Review on Student’s Learning, Social and Health Dimensions. International Journal of Environmental Research and Public Health 14(5), 485 1-20. Boyes, M & Potter, T. (2015). The Application of Recognition-Primed Decision Theory to Decisions Made in An Outdoor Education Contect. Australian of Outdoor Education 18(1), 2-15. Cooper, A. (2015). Nature and The Outdoor Learning Environtment: The Forgotten Resource in Early Childhood Education. International Journal of Early Chilhood Environmental Education 3(1), 85-97. Cresswell, J.W. (2016). Research Design Pendekatan Kualitatif, Kuantitatif, dan Mixed. Yogyakarta: Pustaka Pelajar. Dillon, J. et al. (2017). Toward a Convergence between Science and Environmental Education. Abigdon: Taylor & Francis. Ensar, f. (2014). How Children Construct Literacy: Piagetian Perspective. International Journal of Secondary Education 2(2), 34-39. Erika, S. & Satu, U. (2018). Transformational Elements for Learning Outdoors in Finland: A Review of Research Literature. International Journal of Research Studies in Education 7(3), 73-84. Gilchrist, M., Passy, R., Waite, S. & Cook, R. (2016). Exploring School’s Use of Natural Spaces. Risk,Protection, Provision and Policy 12, 1-24. Ginsburg, H.P & Opper, S. (2016). Piaget’s Theory of Intellectual Development. Kennedy: International Psychoterapy Institute E-Books. Gough, N. (2016). Australian Outdoor (and) Environmental Education Research: Senses of ‘Place’ in Two Constituencies. Journal of Outdoor and Environmental Education 19(2), 1-11. Gunarsa, S.D. & Nigsih, Y. (2014). Psikologi Perkembangan Anak dan Remaja. Jakarta: PT TBK Gunung Mulia. Harsolumakso, A.H et al. (2019). Geology of The Eastern Part of The Volcanic-Kendeng Zone of East Java: Stratigraphy, Structures, and Sedimentation Review from Besuki and Situbondo Areas. Journal of Geology and Mineral Resources 20(3), 143-152. Hebe, H.N. (2017). Towards a Theory-driveb Integration of Environmental Education: The Application of Piaget and Vygotsky in Grade R. International Journal of Environmental & Science Education 12(6), 1525-1545. Levy, D., Peralta, T.M., Pozzi, L., & Tovar, P. (2018). Teachers Multidimensional Role Towards Meaningful Learning: The Potential Value of Interdisciplinary Environments. International Journal for Innovation Education and Research 6(2), 179-187. Miles, B & Mattchow, B. (2015). The Mirror of The Sea: Narrative Identity, Sea Kayak Adventuring and Implications for Outdoor Adventure Education. Australian of Outdoor Education 18(1), 16-26. Moleong, L. (2014). Metodologi Penelitian Kualitatif Edisi Revisi. Bandung: PT. Remaja Rosdakarya. Muhsin, A., Febriany, L.M., Hidayati, H.N., & Purwanti, Y.D. (2015). Material Bambu sebagai Konstruksi pada Great Hall Eco Campus Outward Bound Indonesia. Jurnal Reka Karsa 3 (3), 1-11. Prasetya, S.P. (2014). Media Pembelajaran Geografi. Yogyakarta: Penerbit Ombak. Rowe, N., Dadswell, R., Mudie, C., & Rauworth, M. (2014). Tall Ships Today: Their Remarkable Story. London: Adlard Coles Nautical. Sejati et al. (2017). The effect of Outdoor Study on the Geography Scientific Research Writing Ability to Construct Student Character in Senior High School. Social Sience, Education, and Humanities Research 100, 104-108. Spillman, D. (2017). Coming Home to Place: Aboriginal Lore and Place-Responsive Pedagogy for Transformative Learning in Australian Outdoor Education. Journal of Outdoor and Environmental Education 20(1), 14-24. Sudjana, N. & Rivai, A. (2015). Media Pengajaran Cetakan Ke-12 . Bandung: Sinar Baru Algensindo. Sumarmi. (2015). Model-model Pembelajaran Geografi. Malang: Aditya Media Publishing. Thomas, G.J. (2019). Effective Teaching and Learning Strategies in Outdoor Education: Findings from Two Residential Programmes Based in Australia. Journal of Adventure Education and Outdoor Learning 19(3), 242-255. Voogt, J. & Knezek, G. (2015). Guest Editorial: Technology Enhanced Quality Education for All-Outcomes from EDUsummIT 2015. Educational Technology & Society 19(3), 1-4. Zhou, M. & Brown, D. (2015). Educational Learning Theories: 2nd Edition.Georgina: Galileo Open Learning Materials. Copyright (c) 2019 Geosfera Indonesia Journal and Department of Geography Education, University of Jember This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Share A like 4.0 International License

Abstract:

A different name than English literature, ‘Anglo-Indian Literature’, was given to the body of literature in English that emerged on account of the British interaction with India unlike the case with their interaction with America or Australia or New Zealand. Even the Indians’ contributions (translations as well as creative pieces in English) were classed under the caption ‘Anglo-Indian’ initially but later a different name, ‘Indo-Anglian’, was conceived for the growing variety and volume of writings in English by the Indians. However, unlike the former the latter has not found a favour with the compilers of English dictionaries. With the passage of time the fine line of demarcation drawn on the basis of subject matter and author’s point of view has disappeared and currently even Anglo-Indians’ writings are classed as ‘Indo-Anglian’. Besides contemplating on various connotations of the term ‘Indo-Anglian’ the article discusses the related issues such as: the etymology of the term, fixing the name of its coiner and the date of its first use. In contrast to the opinions of the historians and critics like K R S Iyengar, G P Sarma, M K Naik, Daniela Rogobete, Sachidananda Mohanty, Dilip Chatterjee and Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak it has been brought to light that the term ‘Indo-Anglian’ was first used in 1880 by James Payn to refer to the Indians’ writings in English rather pejoratively. However, Iyengar used it in a positive sense though he himself gave it up soon. The reasons for the wide acceptance of the term, sometimes also for the authors of the sub-continent, by the members of academia all over the world, despite its rejection by Sahitya Akademi (the national body of letters in India), have also been contemplated on. References Alphonso-Karkala, John B. (1970). Indo-English Literature in the Nineteenth Century, Mysore: Literary Half-yearly, University of Mysore, University of Mysore Press. Amanuddin, Syed. (2016 [1990]). “Don’t Call Me Indo-Anglian”. C. D. Narasimhaiah (Ed.), An Anthology of Commonwealth Poetry. Bengaluru: Trinity Press. B A (Compiler). (1883). Indo-Anglian Literature. Calcutta: Thacker, Spink and Co. PDF. Retrieved from: https://books.google.co.in/books?id=rByZ2RcSBTMC&pg=PA1&source= gbs_selected_pages&cad=3#v=onepage&q&f=false ---. (1887). “Indo-Anglian Literature”. 2nd Issue. Calcutta: Thacker, Spink and Co. PDF. Retrieved from: http://www.jstor.org/stable/60238178 Basham, A L. (1981[1954]). The Wonder That Was India: A Survey of the History and Culture of the Indian Sub-Continent before the Coming of the Muslims. Indian Rpt, Calcutta: Rupa. PDF. Retrieved from: https://archive.org/details/TheWonderThatWasIndiaByALBasham Bhushan, V N. (1945). The Peaco*ck Lute. Bomaby: Padma Publications Ltd. Bhushan, V N. (1945). The Moving Finger. Bomaby: Padma Publications Ltd. Boria, Cavellay. (1807). “Account of the Jains, Collected from a Priest of this Sect; at Mudgeri: Translated by Cavelly Boria, Brahmen; for Major C. Mackenzie”. Asiatick Researches: Or Transactions of the Society; Instituted In Bengal, For Enquiring Into The History And Antiquities, the Arts, Sciences, and Literature, of Asia, 9, 244-286. PDF. Retrieved from: https://archive.org/details/in.ernet.dli.2015.104510 Chamber’s Twentieth Century Dictionary [The]. (1971). Bombay et al: Allied Publishers. Print. Chatterjee, Dilip Kumar. (1989). Cousins and Sri Aurobindo: A Study in Literary Influence, Journal of South Asian Literature, 24(1), 114-123. Retrieved from: http://www.jstor.org/ stable/40873985. Chattopadhyay, Dilip Kumar. (1988). A Study of the Works of James Henry Cousins (1873-1956) in the Light of the Theosophical Movement in India and the West. Unpublished PhD dissertation. Burdwan: The University of Burdwan. PDF. Retrieved from: http://ir.inflibnet. ac.in:8080/jspui/bitstream/10603/68500/9/09_chapter%205.pdf. Cobuild English Language Dictionary. (1989 [1987]). rpt. London and Glasgow. Collins Cobuild Advanced Illustrated Dictionary. (2010). rpt. Glasgow: Harper Collins. Print. Concise Oxford English Dictionary [The]. (1961 [1951]). H. W. Fowler and F. G. Fowler. (Eds.) Oxford: Clarendon Press. 4th ed. Cousins, James H. (1921). Modern English Poetry: Its Characteristics and Tendencies. Madras: Ganesh & Co. n. d., Preface is dated April, 1921. PDF. Retrieved from: http://hdl.handle.net/ 2027/uc1.$b683874 ---. (1919) New Ways in English Literature. Madras: Ganesh & Co. 2nd edition. PDF. Retrieved from: https://archive.org/details/in.ernet.dli.2015.31747 ---. (1918). The Renaissance in India. Madras: Madras: Ganesh & Co., n. d., Preface is dated June 1918. PDF. Retrieved from: https://archive.org/details/in.ernet.dli.2015.203914 Das, Sisir Kumar. (1991). History of Indian Literature. Vol. 1. New Delhi: Sahitya Akademi. Encarta World English Dictionary. (1999). London: Bloomsbury. Gandhi, M K. (1938 [1909]). Hind Swaraj Tr. M K Gandhi. Ahmedabad: Navajivan Publishing House. PDF. Retrieved from: www.mkgandhi.org/ebks/hind_swaraj.pdf. Gokak, V K. (n.d.). English in India: Its Present and Future. Bombay et al: Asia Publishing House. PDF. Retrieved from: https://archive.org/details/in.ernet.dli.2015.460832 Goodwin, Gwendoline (Ed.). (1927). Anthology of Modern Indian Poetry, London: John Murray. PDF. Retrieved from: https://archive.org/details/in.ernet.dli.2015.176578 Guptara, Prabhu S. (1986). Review of Indian Literature in English, 1827-1979: A Guide to Information Sources. The Yearbook of English Studies, 16 (1986): 311–13. PDF. Retrieved from: https://www.jstor.org/stable/3507834 Iyengar, K R Srinivasa. (1945). Indian Contribution to English Literature [The]. Bombay: Karnatak Publishing House. PDF. Retrieved from: https://archive.org/details/ indiancontributi030041mbp ---. (2013 [1962]). Indian Writing in English. New Delhi: Sterling. ---. (1943). Indo-Anglian Literature. Bombay: PEN & International Book House. PDF. Retrieved from: https://archive.org/details/IndoAnglianLiterature Longman Dictionary of Contemporary English. (2003). Essex: Pearson. Lyall, Alfred Comyn. (1915). The Anglo-Indian Novelist. Studies in Literature and History. London: John Murray. PDF. Retrieved from: https://archive.org/details/in.ernet. dli.2015.94619 Macaulay T. B. (1835). Minute on Indian Education dated the 2nd February 1835. HTML. Retrieved from: http://www.columbia.edu/itc/mealac/pritchett/00generallinks/macaulay/ txt_minute_education_1835.html Mehrotra, Arvind Krishna. (2003). An Illustrated History of Indian Literature in English. Delhi: Permanent Black. ---. (2003[1992]). The Oxford India Anthology of Twelve Modern Indian Poets. New Delhi: Oxford U P. Minocherhomji, Roshan Nadirsha. (1945). Indian Writers of Fiction in English. Bombay: U of Bombay. Modak, Cyril (Editor). (1938). The Indian Gateway to Poetry (Poetry in English), Calcutta: Longmans, Green. PDF. Retrieved from http://en.booksee.org/book/2266726 Mohanty, Sachidananda. (2013). “An ‘Indo-Anglian’ Legacy”. The Hindu. July 20, 2013. Web. Retrieved from: http://www.thehindu.com/features/magazine/an-indoanglian-legacy/article 4927193.ece Mukherjee, Sujit. (1968). Indo-English Literature: An Essay in Definition, Critical Essays on Indian Writing in English. Eds. M. K. Naik, G. S. Amur and S. K. Desai. Dharwad: Karnatak University. Naik, M K. (1989 [1982]). A History of Indian English Literature. New Delhi: Sahitya Akademi, rpt.New Shorter Oxford English Dictionary on Historical Principles [The], (1993). Ed. Lesley Brown, Vol. 1, Oxford: Clarendon Press.Naik, M K. (1989 [1982]). A History of Indian English Literature. New Delhi: Sahitya Akademi, rpt. Oaten, Edward Farley. (1953 [1916]). Anglo-Indian Literature. In: Cambridge History of English Literature, Vol. 14, (pp. 331-342). A C Award and A R Waller, (Eds). Rpt. ---. (1908). A Sketch of Anglo-Indian Literature, London: Kegan Paul. PDF. Retrieved from: https://ia600303.us.archive.org/0/items/sketchofangloind00oateuoft/sketchofangloind00oateuoft.pdf) Advanced Learner’s Dictionary of Current English. (1979 [1974]). A. S. Hornby (Ed). : Oxford UP, 3rd ed. Oxford English Dictionary [The]. Vol. 7. (1991[1989]). J. A. Simpson and E. S. C. Weiner, (Eds.). Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2nd ed. Pai, Sajith. (2018). Indo-Anglians: The newest and fastest-growing caste in India. Web. Retrieved from: https://scroll.in/magazine/867130/indo-anglians-the-newest-and-fastest-growing-caste-in-india Pandia, Mahendra Navansuklal. (1950). The Indo-Anglian Novels as a Social Document. Bombay: U Press. Payn, James. (1880). An Indo-Anglian Poet, The Gentleman’s Magazine, 246(1791):370-375. PDF. Retrieved from: https://archive.org/stream/gentlemansmagaz11unkngoog#page/ n382/mode/2up. ---. (1880). An Indo-Anglian Poet, Littell’s Living Age (1844-1896), 145(1868): 49-52. PDF. Retrieved from: https://archive.org/stream/livingage18projgoog/livingage18projgoog_ djvu.txt. Rai, Saritha. (2012). India’s New ‘English Only’ Generation. Retrieved from: https://india.blogs.nytimes.com/2012/06/01/indias-new-english-only-generation/ Raizada, Harish. (1978). The Lotus and the Rose: Indian Fiction in English (1850-1947). Aligarh: The Arts Faculty. Rajan, P K. (2006). Indian English literature: Changing traditions. Littcrit. 32(1-2), 11-23. Rao, Raja. (2005 [1938]). Kanthapura. New Delhi: Oxford UP. Rogobete, Daniela. (2015). Global versus Glocal Dimensions of the Post-1981 Indian English Novel. Portal Journal of Multidisciplinary International Studies, 12(1). Retrieved from: http://epress.lib.uts.edu.au/journals/index.php/portal/article/view/4378/4589. Rushdie, Salman & Elizabeth West. (Eds.) (1997). The Vintage Book of Indian Writing 1947 – 1997. London: Vintage. Sampson, George. (1959 [1941]). Concise Cambridge History of English Literature [The]. Cambridge: UP. Retrieved from: https://archive.org/details/in.ernet.dli.2015.18336. Sarma, Gobinda Prasad. (1990). Nationalism in Indo-Anglian Fiction. New Delhi: Sterling. Singh, Kh. Kunjo. (2002). The Fiction of Bhabani Bhattacharya. New Delhi: Atlantic Publishers and Distributors. Spivak, Gayatri Chakravorty. (2012). How to Read a ‘Culturally Different’ Book. An Aesthetic Education in the Era of Globalization, Cambridge, Mass: Harvard University Press. Sturgeon, Mary C. (1916). Studies of Contemporary Poets, London: George G Hard & Co., Retrieved from: https://archive.org/details/in.ernet.dli.2015.95728. Thomson, W S (Ed). (1876). Anglo-Indian Prize Poems, Native and English Writers, In: Commemoration of the Visit of His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales to India. London: Hamilton, Adams & Co., Retrieved from https://books.google.co.in/ books?id=QrwOAAAAQAAJ Wadia, A R. (1954). The Future of English. Bombay: Asia Publishing House. Wadia, B J. (1945). Foreword to K R Srinivasa Iyengar’s The Indian Contribution to English Literature. Bombay: Karnatak Publishing House. Retrieved from: https://archive.org/ details/indiancontributi030041mbp Webster's Encyclopedic Unabridged Dictionary of the English Language. (1989). New York: Portland House. Yule, H. and A C Burnell. (1903). Hobson-Jobson: A Glossary of Colloquial Anglo-Indian Words and Phrases, and of Kindred Terms, Etymological, Historical, Geographical and Discursive. W. Crooke, Ed. London: J. Murray. Retrieved from: https://archive.org/ details/hobsonjobsonagl00croogoog Sources www.amazon.com/Indo-Anglian-Literature-Edward-Charles-Buck/dp/1358184496 www.archive.org/stream/livingage18projgoog/livingage18projgoog_djvu.txt www.catalog.hathitrust.org/Record/001903204?type%5B%5D=all&lookfor%5B%5D=indo%20anglian&ft= www.en.wikipedia.org/wiki/B.L._Indo_Anglian_Public_School,_Aurangabad www.everyculture.com/South-Asia/Anglo-Indian.html www.solo.bodleian.ox.ac.uk/primo_library/libweb/action/search.do?fn=search&ct=search&initialSearch=true&mode=Basic&tab=local&indx=1&dum=true&srt=rank&vid=OXVU1&frbg=&tb=t&vl%28freeText0%29=Indo-Anglian+Literature+&scp.scps=scope%3A%28OX%29&vl% 28516065169UI1%29=all_items&vl%281UIStartWith0%29=contains&vl%28254947567UI0%29=any&vl%28254947567UI0%29=title&vl%28254947567UI0%29=any www.worldcat.org/title/indo-anglian-literature/oclc/30452040

Abstract:

BackgroundThere is an urgent need for a vaccine with efficacy against SARS-CoV-2. We hypothesize that peptide vaccines containing epitope regions optimized for concurrent B cell, CD4+ T cell, and CD8+ T cell stimulation would drive both humoral and cellular immunity with high specificity, potentially avoiding undesired effects such as antibody-dependent enhancement (ADE) (figure 1). Leveraging methods initially developed for prediction of tumor-specific antigen targets, we combine computational prediction of T cell epitopes, recently published B cell epitope mapping studies, and epitope accessibility to select candidate peptide vaccines for SARS-CoV-2 (figure 2).MethodsSARS-CoV-2 HLA-I and HLA-II ligands were predicted using multiple MHC binding prediction software. T cell vaccine candidates were further refined by predicted immunogenicity, viral source protein abundance, sequence conservation, coverage of high frequency HLA alleles, and co-localization of CD4+/CD8+ T cell epitopes. B cell epitope regions were chosen from linear epitope mapping studies of convalescent patient serum, filtering to select regions with surface accessibility, high sequence conservation, spatial localization near functional domains of the spike glycoprotein, and avoidance of glycosylation sites. Using murine compatible T/B cell epitopes, vaccine studies were performed with downstream ELISA/ELISpot to monitor immunogenicity.ResultsWe observed distribution of HLA-I (n = 2486) and -II (n = 3138) ligands evenly across the SARS-CoV-2 proteome, with significant overlap between predicted human and murine ligands (figure 3). Applying a multivariable immunogenicity model trained from IEDB viral tetramer data (AUC 0.7 and 0.9 for HLA-I and -II, respectively), alongside filters for entropy and protein expression resulted in 292 CD8+ and 616 CD4+ epitopes (figure 4). From an initial pool of 58 B cell epitope candidates, three epitope regions were identified (figure 5). Combining B cell and T cell analyses, alongside manufacturability heuristic, we propose a set of SARS-CoV-2 vaccine peptides for use in subsequent murine studies and clinical trials (figure 6). Preliminary murine studies demonstrate evidence of T and B cell activation (figure 7).Abstract 478 Figure 1Summary of combination CD4+/CD8+ T cell and B cell SARS-CoV-2 peptide vaccine. Humoral immunity (blue dashed box) is targeted through B cell and HLA-II epitopes, aimed at viral neutralization while avoiding non-neutralizing and ADE promoting targets. Cellular immunity (red dashed box) is targeted through HLA-I and HLA-II epitopes, aimed to clear virally infected cellsAbstract 478 Figure 2Summary of B cell and CD4+/CD8+ epitope prediction workflows. Pathways are colored by B cell (blue), human T cell (black), and murine T cell (red) epitope prediction workflows. Color bars represent proportions of epitopes derived from internal proteins (ORF), nucleocapsid phosphoprotein, and surface-exposed proteins (spike, membrane, envelope)Abstract 478 Figure 3Landscape of SARS-CoV-2 MHC ligands. (A&B) Selection criteria for (A) HLA-I and (B) HLA-II SARS-CoV-2 HLA ligand candidates. Scatterplot (bottom) shows predicted (x-axis) versus IEDB (y-axis) binding affinity, with horizontal line representing 500 nM IEDB binding affinity and vertical line representing corresponding predicted binding affinity for 90% specificity in binding prediction. Histogram (top) shows all predicted SARS-CoV-2 HLA ligand candidates. (C) Landscape of predicted HLA ligands, showing nested HLA ligands comprising HLA-I and -II ligands with complete overlap (top), and LOESS fitted curve (span = 0.1) for HLA-I/II ligands by location along the SARS-CoV2 proteome (bottom). Red track represents SARS epitopes identified in literature review with sequence identity in SARS-CoV-2. Predicted HLA ligands with conserved sequences to this literature set are represented in the lollipop plot with a red stick. (D) Summary of total number of predicted HLA-I/II ligands and nested HLA ligands. (E) Summary of nested HLA ligand coverage by protein, with raw counts (left) or counts normalized by protein length (right). (F) Summary of murine/human MHC ligand overlap. (G) Distribution of population frequencies among predicted HLA-I, -II, and nested HLA ligandsAbstract 478 Figure 4Prediction of SARS-CoV-2 T cell epitopes. (Top) Summary of predicted (left) and IEDB-defined (right) SARS-CoV-2 HLA ligands, showing proportions of each derivative protein. (Middle) Funnel plot representing counts of HLA-I (red text), HLA-II (blue text), and nested HLA (violet text) ligands along with proportions of HLA-I (top bar) and HLA-II (bottom bar) alleles at each filtering step. (Bottom) Summary of CD8+ (red, top), CD4+ (blue, bottom), and nested T cell epitopes (middle) after filtering criteria in S, M, and N proteins. Y-axis and size represent the population frequency of each CD8+ and CD4+ epitopes by circles. Middle track of diamonds represents overlaps between CD8+ and CD4+ epitopes, showing the overlap with greatest population frequency (size) for each region of overlap. Color of diamonds represents the proportion of overlap between CD4+ and CD8+ epitope sequences.Abstract 478 Figure 5Selection of SARS-CoV-2 B cell epitope regions. (A) SARS-CoV-2 linear B cell epitopes curated from epitope mapping studies. X-axis represents amino acid position along the SARS-CoV-2 spike protein, with labeled start sites. (B) Schematic for filtering criteria of B cell epitope candidates. (C) Spike protein amino acid sequence, with overlay of selection features prior to filtering. Polymorphic residues are red, glycosites are blue, accessible regions highlighted in yellow. The receptor binding domain (RBD), fusion peptide (FP), and HR1/HR2 regions are outlined. (D) Spike protein functional regions (RBD, FP, HR1/2) amino acid sequences, with residues colored by how many times they occur in identified epitopes. Selected accessible sub-sequences of known antibody epitopes highlighted in purple outline. (E) S protein trimer crystal structure with glycosylation, with final linear epitope regions highlighted by colorAbstract 478 Figure 6T cell and B cell vaccine candidates. (A) 27mer vaccine peptide sets selecting for best CD4+, CD8+, CD4+/CD8+, and B cell epitopes with HLA-I, HLA-II, and total population coverage. (B) Unified list of all selected 27mer vaccine peptides. Vaccine peptides containing predicted ligands for murine MHC alleles (H2-b and H2-d haplotypes) are indicated in their respective columnsAbstract 478 Figure 7Immunogenicity of murine-compatible peptide vaccines. (A) ELISA result: peptides derived from three B cell vaccine candidate regions were coated on peptide capture plates, either in combination by overlapping core epitopes (1+2 and 3+4) or alone (5). (B) ELISpot results: splenocytes from animals vaccinated against predicted B cell epitopes (1–5) or measles peptide control (M; adapted from Obeid et al. 1995). Each point represents the average of technical triplicates, background subtracted against no-peptide control. (A&B) Colors represent adjuvant used for vaccination. P-values shown above each graph represent pair-wise Mann-Whitney u-testConclusionsA peptide vaccine targeting B cells, CD4+ T cells, and CD8+ T cells in parallel may prove an important part of a multifaceted response to the COVID-19 pandemic. Adapting methods for predicting tumor-specific antigens, we presented a set of peptide candidates with high overlap for T and B cell epitopes and broad haplotype population coverage, with validation of immunogenicity in murine vaccine studies.AcknowledgementsThe authors appreciate funding support from University of North Carolina University Cancer Research Fund (AR and BGV), the Susan G. Komen Foundation (BGV), the V Foundation for Cancer Research (BGV), and the National Institutes of Health (CCS, 1F30CA225136). We would like to thank members of the #DownWithTheCrown Slack channel for helpful discussion and feedback.

Abstract:

Constant demand for new naval and commercial vessels has created special conditions for the Government-owned Soviet shipbuilding industry, which practically has not been affected by the world shipbuilding crisis. On the other hand, such chronic diseases of the centralized economy as lack of incentive, material shortage and poor workmanship cause specific problems for ship construction. Being technically and financially unable to rapidly improve the overall technology level and performance of the entire industry, the Soviets concentrate their efforts on certain important areas and have achieved significant results, especially in welding and cutting titanium and aluminum alloys, modular production methods, standardization, etc. All productivity improvement efforts are supported by an army of highly educated engineers and scientists at shipyards, in multiple scientific, research and design institutions. Discussion Edwin J. Petersen, Todd Pacific Shipyards Three years ago I addressed the Ship Production Symposium as chairman of the Ship Production Committee and outlined some major factors which had contributed to the U.S. shipbuilding industry's remarkable achievements in building and maintaining the world's largest naval and merchant fleets during the five-year period starting just before World War II. The factors were as follows:There was a national commitment to get the job done. The shipbuilding industry was recognized as a needed national resource. There was a dependable workload. Standardization was extensively and effectively utilized. Shipbuilding work was effectively organized. Although these lessons appear to have been lost by our Government since World War II, the paper indicates that the Soviet Union has picked up these principles and has applied them very well to its current shipbuilding program. The paper also gives testimony to the observation that the Soviet Government recognizes the strategic and economic importance of a strong merchant fleet as well as a powerful naval fleet. In reviewing the paper, I found great similarity between the Soviet shipbuilding productivity improvement efforts and our own efforts or goals under the National Shipbuilding Research Program in the following areas:welding technology, flexible automation (robotics), application of group technology, standardization, facilities development, and education and training. In some areas, the Soviet Union appears to be well ahead of the United States in improving the shipbuilding process. Most noteworthy among these is the stable long-and medium-range planning that is possible by virtue of the use and adherence to the "Table of Vessel Classes." It will be obvious to most who hear and read these comments what a vast and significant improvement in shipbuilding costs and schedules could be achieved with a relatively dependable 15year master ship procurement plan for the U.S. naval and merchant fleets. Another area where the Soviet Union appears to lead the United States is in the integration of ship component suppliers into the shipbuilding process. This has been recognized as a vital step by the National Shipbuilding Research Program, but so far we have not made significant progress. A necessary prerequisite for this "supplier integration" is extensive standardization of ship components, yet another area in which the Soviets have achieved significantly greater progress than we have. Additional areas of Soviet advantage are the presence of a multilevel research and development infrastructure well supported by highly educated scientists, engineering and technical personnel; and better integration of formally educated engineering and technical personnel into the ship production process. In his conclusion, the author lists a number of problems facing the Soviet economy that adversely affect shipbuilding productivity. Perhaps behind this listing we can delve out some potential U.S. shipbuilding advantages. First, production systems in U.S. shipyards (with the possible exception of naval shipyards) are probably more flexible and adjustable to meet new circ*mstances as a consequence of not being constrained by a burdensome centralized bureaucracy, as is the case with Soviet shipyards. Next, such initiatives as the Ship Production Committee's "Human Resources Innovation" projects stand a better chance of achieving product-oriented "production team" relationship among labor, management, and technical personnel than the more rigid Soviet system, especially in view of the ability of U.S. shipyard management to offer meaningful financial incentives without the kind of bureaucratic constraints imposed in the Soviet system. Finally, the current U.S. Navy/shipbuilding industry cooperative effort to develop a common engineering database should lead to a highly integrated and disciplined ship design, construction, operation, and maintenance system for naval ships (and subsequently for commercial ships) that will ultimately restore the U.S. shipbuilding process to a leadership position in the world marketplace (additional references [16] and [17]).On that tentatively positive note, it seems fitting to close this discussion with a question: Is the author aware of any similar Soviet effort to develop an integrated computer-aided design, production and logistics support system? The author is to be congratulated on an excellent, comprehensive insight into the Soviet shipbuilding process and productivity improvement efforts that should give us all adequate cause not to be complacent in our own efforts. Peter M. Palermo, Naval Sea Systems Command The author presents an interesting paper that unfortunately leaves this reader with a number of unanswered questions. The paper is a paradox. It depicts a system consisting of a highly educated work force, advanced fabrication processes including the use of standardized hull modules, sophisticated materials and welding processes, and yet in the author's words they suffer from "low productivity, poor product quality, . . . and the rigid production systems which resists the introduction of new ideas." Is it possible that incentive, motivation, and morale play an equally significant role in achieving quality and producibility advances? Can the author discuss underlying reasons for quality problems in particular—or can we assume that the learning curves of Figs. 5 and Fig. 6 are representative of quality improvement curves? It has been my general impression that quality will improve with application of high-tech fabrication procedures, enclosed fabrication ways, availability of highly educated welding engineers on the building ways, and that productivity would improve with the implementation of modular or zone outfitting techniques coupled with the quality improvements. Can the author give his impressions of the impact of these innovations in the U.S. shipbuilding industry vis-a-vis the Soviet industry? Many of the welding processes cited in the paper are also familiar to the free world, with certain notable exceptions concerning application in Navy shipbuilding. For example, (1) electroslag welding is generally confined to single-pass welding of heavy plates; application to thinner plates—l1/4 in. and less when certified—would permit its use in more applications than heretofore. (2) Electron beam welding is generally restricted to high-technology machinery parts; vacuum chamber size restricts its use for larger components (thus it must be assumed that the Soviets have solved the vacuum chamber problem or have much larger chambers). (3) Likewise, laser welding has had limited use in U.S. shipbuilding. An interesting theme that runs throughout the paper, but is not explicitly addressed, is the quality of Soviet ship fitting. The use of high-tech welding processes and the mention of "remote controlled tooling for welding and X-ray testing the butt, and for following painting" imply significant ship fitting capabilities for fitting and positioning. This is particularly true if modules are built in one facility, outfitted and assembled elsewhere depending on the type of ship required. Any comments concerning Soviet ship fitting capabilities would be appreciated. The discussion on modular construction seems to indicate that the Soviets have a "standard hull module" that is used for different types of vessels, and if the use of these hull modules permit increasing hull length without changes to the fore and aft ends, it can be assumed that they are based on a standard structural design. That being the case, the midship structure will be overdesigned for many applications and optimally designed for very few. Recognizing that the initial additional cost for such a piece of hull structure is relatively minimal, it cannot be forgotten that the lifecycle costs for transporting unnecessary hull weight around can have significant fuel cost impacts. If I perceived the modular construction approach correctly, then I am truly intrigued concerning the methods for handling the distributive systems. In particular, during conversion when the ship is lengthened, how are the electrical, fluid, communications, and other distributive systems broken down, reassembled and tested? "Quick connect couplings" for these type systems at the module breaks is one particular area where economies can be achieved when zone construction methods become the order of the day in U.S. Navy ships. The author's comments in this regard would be most welcome. The design process as presented is somewhat different than U.S. Navy practice. In U.S. practice, Preliminary and Contract design are developed by the Navy. Detail design, the development of the working drawings, is conducted by the lead shipbuilder. While the detail design drawings can be used by follow shipbuilders, flexibility is permitted to facilitate unique shipbuilding or outfitting procedures. Even the contract drawings supplied by the Navy can be modified— upon Navy approval—to permit application of unique shipbuilder capabilities. The large number of college-trained personnel entering the Soviet shipbuilding and allied fields annually is mind-boggling. According to the author's estimation, a minimum of about 6500 college graduates—5000 of which have M.S. degrees—enter these fields each year. It would be most interesting to see a breakdown of these figures—in particular, how many naval architects and welding engineers are included in these figures? These are disciplines with relatively few personnel entering the Navy design and shipbuilding field today. For example, in 1985 in all U.S. colleges and universities, there were only 928 graduates (B.S., M.S. and Ph.D.) in marine, naval architecture and ocean engineering and only 1872 graduates in materials and metallurgy. The number of these graduates that entered the U.S. shipbuilding field is unknown. Again, the author is to be congratulated for providing a very thought-provoking paper. Frank J. Long, Win/Win Strategies This paper serves not only as a chronicle of some of the productivity improvement efforts in Soviet shipbuilding but also as an important reminder of the fruits of those efforts. While most Americans have an appreciation of the strengths of the Russian Navy, this paper serves to bring into clearer focus the Russians' entire maritime might in its naval, commercial, and fishing fleets. Indeed, no other nation on earth has a greater maritime capability. It is generally acknowledged that the Soviet Navy is the largest in the world. When considering the fact that the commercial and fishing fleets are, in many military respects, arms of the naval fleet, we can more fully appreciate how awesome Soviet maritime power truly is. The expansion of its maritime capabilities is simply another but highly significant aspect of Soviet worldwide ambitions. The development and updating of "Setka Typov Su dov" (Table of Vessel Classes), which the author describes is a classic example of the Soviet planning process. As the author states, "A mighty fishing and commercial fleet was built in accordance with a 'Setka' which was originally developed in the 1960's. And an even more impressive example is the rapid expansion of the Soviet Navy." In my opinion it is not mere coincidence that the Russians embarked on this course in the 1960's. That was the beginning of the coldest of cold war periods—Francis Gary Power's U-2 plane was downed by the Russians on May 1, 1960; the mid-May 1960 Four Power Geneva Summit was a bust; the Berlin Wall was erected in 1961 and, in 1962, we had the Cuban Missile Crisis. The United States maritime embargo capability in that crisis undoubtedly influenced the Soviet's planning process. It is a natural and normal function of a state-controlled economy with its state-controlled industries to act to bring about the controlled productivity improvement developments in exactly the key areas discussed in the author's paper. As the author states, "All innovations at Soviet shipyards have originated at two main sources:domestic development andadaptation of new ideas introduced by leading foreign yards, or most likely a combination of both. Soviet shipbuilders are very fast learners; moreover, their own experience is quite substantial." The Ship Production Committee of SNAME has organized its panels to conduct research in many of these same areas for productivity improvement purposes. For example, addressing the areas of technology and equipment are Panels SP-1 and 3, Shipbuilding Facilities and Environmental Effects, and Panel SP-7, Shipbuilding Welding. Shipbuilding methods are the province of SP-2; outfitting and production aids and engineering and scientific support are the province of SP-4, Design Production Integration. As I read through the descriptions of the processes that led to the productivity improvements, I was hoping to learn more about the organizational structure of Soviet shipyards, the managerial hierarchy and how work is organized by function or by craft in the shipyard. (I would assume that for all intents and purposes, all Russian yards are organized in the same way.) American shipyard management is wedded to the notion that American shipbuilding suffers immeasurably from a productivity standpoint because of limitations on management's ability to assign workers across craft lines. It is unlikely that this limitation exists in Soviet shipyards. If it does not, how is the unfettered right of assignment optimized? What are the tangible, measurable results? I believe it would have been helpful, also, for the author to have dedicated some of the paper to one of the most important factors in improvement in the labor-intensive shipbuilding industry—the shipyard worker. There are several references to worker problems—absenteeism, labor shortage, poor workmanship, and labor discipline. The reader is left with the impression that the Russians believe that either those are unsolvable problems or have a priority ranking significantly inferior to the organizational, technical, and design efforts discussed. As a case in point, the author devotes a complete section to engineering education and professional training but makes no mention of education or training programs for blue-collar workers. It would seem that a paper on productivity improvement efforts in Soviet shipbuilding would address this most important element. My guess is that the Russians have considerable such efforts underway and it would be beneficial for us to learn of them.

Abstract:

The cognitive specificity of social pedagogy is its interest in the issues related to social conditionings of human development and, respectively, the specific social conditionings of the upbringing process. The notion has been developed in various directions since the very beginning of the discipline, yet the most clearly visible area seems to be the functioning of individuals, families and broader environment. Simultaneously, it is possible to observe that the issues have been entangled in certain socio-political conditions, the knowledge of which is substantial for the reconstruction and identification of the research heritage of social pedagogy. All these interrelationships allowed to distinguish particular stages of development of social pedagogy. Contemporarily, it is a discipline with descent scientific achievements which marks out and indicates new perspectives both in the field of educational practice and the theory of social activity. Social pedagogy, similarly to other areas (subdisciplines) of pedagogy, deals with the notion of upbringing in a certain aspect – in a certain problem inclination. It specializes in social and environmental conditionings of the upbringing process. It is the thread of the social context of upbringing what proves to be the crucial, basic and fundamental determinant of upbringing and, thus, decisive factor for human development. This notion was always present in the general pedagogical thought however, its organized and rationalized character surfaced only when the social pedagogy was distinguished as a separate, systematic area of pedagogy. It occurred in Poland only at the beginning of the 19th century. From the very beginning the creators and precursors of this subdiscipline pointed out its relatively wide range. It has been the notion of individual – social conditionings of human development, yet, social pedagogists were interested in human at every stage of their lives i.e. childhood, adolescence, adulthood and old age. Another area of interest were the issues related to family as the most important “place” of human development and, in this respect, the issues connected with institutions undertaking various activities: help, care, support and animation. Finally, the scope of interest included issues related to the environment as the place where the upbringing process is supposed to realize and realizes. Since the very beginning of social pedagogy these have been the prominent threads for exploration. At the same time it ought to be stated that these threads have always been interwoven with various social-political conditions both with regards to their interpretation as well as possible and planned educational practice. Therefore social pedagogy and its findings must be always “read” in the context of social-political conditions which accompanied the creation of a given thought or realization of some educational practice. As these conditions have constantly been undergoing certain transformations one may clearly distinguish particular stages of development of social pedagogy. The stages reflect various approaches to exploring and describing the above-mentioned areas of this discipline. Following the assumptions regarding the chronology of social pedagogy development and the three distinguished stages of development, it seems worthwhile to study how the issues related to an individual, family and environment were shaped at these stages. The first stage when the social psychology was arising was mainly the time of Helena Radlińska’s activities as well as less popular and already forgotten Polish pedagogists – precursors of this discipline such as: Anna Chmielewska, Irena Jurgielewiczowa, Zofia Gulińska or Maria Korytowska. In that period social pedagogists mainly dealt with individuals, families and the functioning of environments in the context of educational activities aimed at arousing national identity and consciousness. However, their work did no focus on indicating the layers of threats and deficits in functioning of individuals, social groups or families but on the possibilities to stimulate their development and cultural life. Therefore social pedagogy of those times was not as strongly related to social work as it currently is but dealt mainly with educational work. The classic example of such approach in the research carried out in the social pedagogy of that time may be the early works by Helena Radlińska who undertook the narrow field of cultural-educational work targeted to all categories of people. The works described such issues as the organization of libraries, organizing extra-school education (H. Orsza, 1922, H. Orsza-Radlińska, 1925). It ought to be stated that this kind of work was regarded as public and educational work, whereas currently it exists under the name of social work. Frequently quoted works related to the issues of arising social pedagogy were also the works by Eustachy Nowicki e.g. “Extra-school education and its social-educational role in the contemporary Polish life” from 1923 or the works by Stefania Sempołowska, Jerzy Grodecki or Jadwiga Dziubińska. Such an approach and tendencies are clearly visible in a book from 1913 (a book which has been regarded by some pedagogists as the first synthetic presentation of social pedagogy). It is a group work entitled “Educational work – its tasks, methods and organization” (T. Bobrowski, Z. Daszyńska-Golińska, J. Dziubińska, Z. Gargasa, M. Heilperna, Z. Kruszewska, L. Krzywicki, M. Orsetti, H. Orsza, St. Posner, M. Stępkowski, T. Szydłowski, Wł. Weychert-Szymanowska, 1913). The problem of indicated and undertaken research areas and hence, the topics of works realized by the social pedagogists of that times changed immediately after regaining independence and before World War II. It was the time when the area of social pedagogists interests started to include the issues of social inequality, poverty and, subsequently, the possibility of helping (with regards to the practical character of social pedagogy). The research works undertaken by social pedagogists were clearly of diagnostic, practical and praxeological character. They were aimed at seeking the causes of these phenomena with simultaneous identification and exploration of certain environmental factors as their sources. A classic example of such a paper – created before the war – under the editorial management of H. Radlińska was the work entitled “Social causes of school successes and failures” from 1937 (H. Radlińska, 1937). Well known are also the pre-war works written by the students of H. Radlińska which revealed diagnostic character such as: “The harm of a child” by Maria Korytowska (1937) or “A child of Polish countryside” edited by M. Librachowa and published in Warsaw in 1934 (M. Librachowa, 1934). Worthwhile are also the works by Czesław Wroczyński from 1935 entitled “Care of an unmarried mother and struggle against abandoning infants in Warsaw” or the research papers by E. Hryniewicz, J. Ryngmanowa and J. Czarnecka which touched upon the problem of neglected urban and rural families and the situation of an urban and rural child – frequently an orphaned child. As it may be inferred, the issues of poverty, inefficient families, single-parent families remain current and valid also after the World War II. These phenomena where nothing but an outcome of various war events and became the main point of interest for researchers. Example works created in the circle of social pedagogists and dealing with these issues may be two books written in the closest scientific environment of Helena Radlińska – with her immense editorial impact. They are “Orphanage – scope and compensation” (H. Radlińska, J. Wojtyniak, 1964) and “Foster families in Łódź” (A. Majewska, 1948), both published immediately after the war. Following the chronological approach I adopted, the next years mark the beginning of a relative stagnation in the research undertaken in the field of social pedagogy. Especially the 50’s – the years of notably strong political indoctrination and the Marxist ideological offensive which involved building the so called socialist educational society – by definition free from socio-educational problems in public life. The creation and conduction of research in this period was also hindered due to organizational and institutional reasons. The effect of the mentioned policy was also the liquidation of the majority of social sciences including research facilities – institutes, departments and units. An interesting and characteristic description of the situation may be the statement given by Professor J. Auletner who described the period from the perspective of development of social policy and said that: “During the Stalinist years scientific cultivation of social policy was factually forbidden”. During the period of real socialism it becomes truly difficult to explore the science of social policy. The name became mainly the synonym of the current activity of the state and a manifestation of struggles aimed at maintaining the existing status quo. The state authorities clearly wanted to subdue the science of social activities of the state […]. During the real socialism neither the freedom for scientific criticism of the reality nor the freedom of research in the field of social sciences existed. It was impossible (yet deliberated) to carry out a review of poverty and other drastic social issues” (J. Auletner, 2000). The situation changes at the beginning of the 60’s (which marks the second stage of development of social pedagogy) when certain socio-political transformations – on the one hand abandoning the limitation of the Stalinist period (1953 – the death of Stalin and political thaw), on the other – reinforcement of the idea of socialist education in social sciences lead to resuming environmental research. It was simultaneously the period of revival of Polish social pedagogy with regards to its institutional dimension as well as its ideological self-determination (M. Cichosz, 2006, 2014). The issues of individuals, families and environments was at that time explored with regards to the functioning of educational environments and in the context of exploring the environmental conditionings of the upbringing process. Typical examples here may be the research by Helena Izdebska entitled “The functioning of a family and childcare tasks” (H. Izdebska, 1967) and “The causes of conflicts in a family” (H. Izdebska, 1975) or research conducted by Anna Przecławska on adolescents and their participation in culture: “Book, youth and cultural transformations” (A. Przecławska, 1967) or e.g. “Cultural diversity of adolescents against upbringing problems” (A. Przecławska, 1976). A very frequent notion undertaken at that time and remaining within the scope of the indicated areas were the issues connected with organization and use of free time. This may be observed through research by T. Wujek: “Homework and active leisure of a student” (T. Wujek, 1969). Another frequently explored area was the problem of looking after children mainly in the papers by Albin Kelm or Marian Balcerek. It is worthwhile that the research on individuals, families or environments were carried out as part of the current pedagogical concepts of that time like: parallel education, permanent education, lifelong learning or the education of adults, whereas, the places indicated as the areas of human social functioning in which the environmental education took place were: family, school, housing estate, workplace, social associations. It may be inferred that from a certain (ideological) perspective at that time we witnessed a kind of modeling of social reality as, on the one hand particular areas were diagnosed, on the other – a desired (expected) model was built (designed) (with respect to the pragmatic function of practical pedagogy). A group work entitled “Upbringing and environment” edited by B. Passini and T. Pilch (B. Passini, T. Pilch, 1979) published in 1979 was a perfect illustration of these research areas. It ought to be stated that in those years a certain model of social diagnosis proper for undertaken social-pedagogical research was reinforced (M. Deptuła, 2005). Example paper could be the work by I. Lepalczyk and J. Badura entitled: “Elements of pedagogical diagnostics” (I. Lepalczyk, J. Badura, 1987). Finally, the social turning point in the 80’s and 90’s brought new approaches to the research on individuals, families and environments which may be considered as the beginning of the third stage of the development of social pedagogy. Breaking off the idea of socialist education meant abandoning the specific approach to research on the educational environment previously carried out within a holistic system of socio-educational influences (A. Przecławska, w. Theiss, 1995). The issues which dominated in the 90’s and still dominate in social pedagogy with regards to the functioning of individuals, families and local environments have been the issues connected with social welfare and security as well as education of adults. Research papers related to such approach may be the work by Józefa Brągiel: “Upbringing in a single-parent family” from 1990; the work edited by Zofia Brańka “The subjects of care and upbringing” from 2002 or a previous paper written in 1998 by the same author in collaboration with Mirosław Szymański “Aggression and violence in modern world” published in 1999 as well as the work by Danuta Marzec “Childcare at the time of social transformations” from 1999 or numerous works by St. Kawula, A. Janke. Also a growing interest in social welfare and social work is visible in the papers by J. Brągiel and P. Sikora “Social work, multiplicity of perspectives, family – multiculturalism – education” from 2004, E. Kanwicz and A. Olubiński: “Social activity in social welfare at the threshold of 21st century” from 2004 or numerous works on this topic created by the circles gathered around the Social Pedagogy Faculty in Łódź under the management of E. Marynowicz-Hetka. Current researchers also undertake the issues related to childhood (B. Smolińska-Theiss, 2014, B. Matyjas, 2014) and the conditionings of the lives of seniors (A. Baranowska, E. Kościńska, 2013). Ultimately, among the presented, yet not exclusive, research areas related to particular activities undertaken in human life environment (individuals, families) and fulfilled within the field of caregiving, social welfare, adult education, socio-cultural animation or health education one may distinguish the following notions:  the functioning of extra-school education institutions, most frequently caregiving or providing help such as: orphanage, residential home, dormitory, community centre but also facilities aimed at animating culture like youth cultural centres, cultural centres, clubs etc.,  the functioning of school, the realization of its functions (especially educational care), fulfilling and conditioning roles of student/teacher, the functioning of peer groups, collaboration with other institutions,  the functioning (social conditionings) of family including various forms of families e.g. full families, single-parent families, separated families, families at risk (unemployment) and their functioning in the context of other institutions e.g. school,  social pathologies, the issues of violence and aggression, youth subcultures,  participation in culture, leisure time, the role of media,  the functioning of the seniors – animation of activities in this field,  various dimensions of social welfare, support, providing help, the conditionings of functioning of such jobs as the social welfare worker, culture animator, voluntary work. It might be concluded that the issues connected with individuals, families and environment have been the centre of interest of social pedagogy since the very beginning of this discipline. These were the planes on which social pedagogists most often identified and described social life – from the perspective of human participation. On the course of describing the lives of individuals, families and broader educational environments social pedagogists figured out and elaborated on particular methods and ways of diagnosing social life. Is it possible to determine any regularities or tendencies in this respect? Unquestionably, at the initial stage of existence of this discipline, aimed at stimulating national consciousness and subsequent popularization of cultural achievements through certain activities – social and educational work, social pedagogists built certain models of these undertakings which were focused on stimulating particular social activity and conscious participation in social life. The issues concerning social diagnosis, though not as significant as during other stages, served these purposes and hence were, to a certain extent, ideologically engaged. The situation changed significantly before and shortly after the World War II. Facing particular conditions of social life – increase in many unfavourable phenomena, social pedagogists attempted to diagnose and describe them. It seems to have been the period of clear shaping and consolidation of the accepted model of empirical research in this respect. The model was widely accepted as dominating and has been developed in Polish social pedagogy during the second and subsequent stages of developing of this discipline. Practical and praxeological character of social pedagogy became the main direction of this development. Consequently, social diagnosis realized and undertaken with regard to social pedagogy was associated with the idea of a holistic system of education and extra-school educational influences and related educational environments. Therefore, the more and more clearly emphasized goal of environmental research – forecasting, was associated with the idea of building holistic, uniform educational impacts. After the systemic transformation which occurred in Poland in the 90’s, i.e. the third stage of social pedagogy development, abandoning the previous ideological solutions, environmental research including diagnosis was reassociated with social life problems mainly regarding social welfare and security. Individuals, families and environment have been and still seem to be the subject of research in the field of social pedagogy in Poland. These research areas are structurally bound with its acquired paradigm – of a science describing transformations of social life and formulating a directive of practical conduct regarding these transformations. A question arouses about the development of social pedagogy as the one which charts the direction of transformations of practices within the undertaken research areas. If it may be considered as such, then it would be worthwhile to enquire about the directions of the accepted theoretical acknowledgments. On the one hand we may observe a relatively long tradition of specifically elaborated and developed concepts, on the other – there are still new challenges ahead. Observing the previous and current development of Polish social pedagogy it may be inferred that its achievements are not overextensive with regards to the described and acquired theoretical deliberations. Nevertheless, from the very beginning, it has generated certain, specific theoretical solutions attempting to describe and explain particular areas of social reality. Especially noteworthy is the first period of the existence of this discipline, the period of such social pedagogists like i.a. J.W. Dawid, A. Szycówna, I. Moszczeńska or Helena Radlińska. The variety of the reflections with typically philosophical background undertaken in their works (e.g. E. Abramowski) is stunning. Equally involving is the second stage of development of social pedagogy i.e. shortly after the World War II, when Polish social pedagogy did not fully break with the heritage of previous philosophical reflections (A. Kamiński, R. Wroczyński) yet was developed in the Marxist current. A question arouses whether the area of education and the projects of its functioning of that time were also specific with regards to theory (it seems to be the problem of the whole Socialist pedagogy realised in Poland at that time). The following years of development of this discipline, especially at the turn of 80’s and 90’s was the period of various social ideas existing in social pedagogy – the influences of various concepts and theories in this field. The extent to which they were creatively adapted and included in the current of specific interpretations still requires detailed analysis, yet remains clearly visible. Another important area is the field of confronting the theories with the existing and undertaken solutions in the world pedagogy. A. Radziewicz-Winnicki refers to the views of the representatives of European and world social thought: P. Bourdieu, U. Beck, J. Baudrillard, Z. Bauman and M. Foucault, and tries to identify possible connections and relationships between these ideas and social pedagogy: “the ideas undertaken by the mentioned sociologists undoubtedly account for a significant source of inspiration for practical reflection within social pedagogy. Therefore, it is worthwhile to suggest certain propositions of their application in the field of the mentioned subdiscipline of pedagogy” (Radziewicz-Winnicki 2008). The contemporary social pedagogy in Poland constantly faces numerous challenges. W. Theiss analysed the contemporary social pedagogy with regards to its deficiencies but also the challenges imposed by globalisation and wrote: “Modern social pedagogy focuses mainly on the narrow empirical research and narrow practical activity and neglects research in the field of theory functioning separately from the realms of the global (or globalising) world or pays insufficient attention to these problems. It leads to a certain self-marginalisation of our discipline which leaves us beyond the current of main socio-educational problems of modern times. In this respect, it seems worthwhile and necessary to carry out intensive conceptual and research work focused on e.g. the following issues:  metatheory of social pedagogy and its relationship with modern trends in social sciences;  the concepts of human and the world, the concepts of the hierarchy of values;  the theory of upbringing, the theory of socialization, the theory of educational environment;  a conceptual key of the modern reality; new terms and new meanings of classical concepts;  socio-educational activities with direct and indirect macro range e.g. balanced development and its programmes, global school, intercultural education, inclusive education, professional education of emigrants”. Considering the currently undertaken research in this field and the accepted theoretical perspectives it is possible to indicate specific and elaborated concepts. They fluctuate around structural spheres of social pedagogy on the axis: human – environment – environmental transformations. It accounts for an ontological sphere of the acknowledged concepts and theories. Below, I am enumerating the concepts which are most commonly discussed in social pedagogy with regards to the acquired and accepted model. Currently discussed theoretical perspectives (contexts) in social pedagogy and the concepts within. I. The context of social personal relationships  social participation, social presence;  social communication, interaction;  reciprocity. II. The context of social activities (the organization of environment)  institutionalisation;  modernization;  urbanization. III. The context of environment  space;  place;  locality. The socially conditioned process of human development is a process which constantly undergoes transformations. The pedagogical description of this process ought to include these transformations also at the stage of formulating directives of practical activities – the educational practice. It is a big challenge for social pedagogy to simultaneously do not undergo limitations imposed by current social policy and response to real social needs. It has been and remains a very important task for social pedagogy.

Abstract:

Despite a long-standing interest in service offshoring from both academics and practitioners, the questions how and under what conditions customers react when a well-known national brand decides to outsource its services to an offshore service provider (OSP) is an understudied area. Drawing on cognitive consistency theory, we test a new construct called, “service offshoring fit” (SOF) that captures customer overall perceptual consistency in their memory networks between the focal firm and the OSP as indicated by the suitability, appropriability, and logicality of the alliance. Using 393 responses from a panel of customers of focal brands, we show that customer certainty mediates the relationship between SOF and intention not to switch by current customers. Our findings also reveal an inverted U-shaped relationship between marketing communications and customer certainty at different levels of SOF. Specifically, if firms communicate consumers’ benefits associated with offshoring, they can mitigate or avoid negative customer reactions (and subsequently increase customer certainty); however, after a certain point, such effects are reduced.

Abstract:

Even though the WWI ended a century ago, it seems viable to say that its presence and consequences are still echoing in the (sub)conscious self of the peoples in the Western Balkans. This paper focuses on disclosure of possible linguistic traits within a literary text, which uncover the author’s attitude towards the cultural and historical events he depicts. The aim is to investigate the possibility of extracting the parallel personal and general histories, their overlapping points, be they cultural or historical, through the linguistic tools used. The main focal point is on juxtaposing information, whose meaning is overtly shaped by the culture(s) of the speaker and the generally accepted cultural and historical posits, within the stories portrayed.

Abstract:

ABSTRACTAs part of their required curriculum, undergraduate students in the Civil Engineering Department at the University of Arkansas take a course that studies the materials commonly used in the construction of buildings, bridges, highways, and the like. This course is titled CVEG 2113 - Structural Materials. A focal point for this course is the examination of concrete, its production, engineering properties, and uses in structures.Since concrete can be delivered to a job site while still in a workable form, it is often necessary to perform a series of tests on the “fresh” material prior to its placement in a structure. Prior to the mid-1980's results from the field testing of concrete were often dubious. In an effort to improve the quality of testing, and thus the reliability and accuracy of the test data, organizations such as the American Concrete Institute (ACI) initiated programs to certify field testing technicians. With the students in CVEG 2113 already receiving instruction relative to testing, as well as having the opportunity to perform the applicable tests in the laboratory, it quickly became evident that ACI certification could, and should, be incorporated into the course syllabus. Being certified adds a tangible skill to a student's resume thus making the student more marketable for summer and long-term employment. The concrete industry benefits from an increased pool of highly qualified engineers. The Department of Civil Engineering benefits from an enhanced reputation from the perspective of both the students and industry.

Abstract:

Abstract Introduction Replantation is the ideal treatment in traumatic scalp defects to provide immediate coverage with restoration of hair-bearing skin. However, data are limited to case reports and small case series. Comprehensive analysis of techniques and outcomes is not available. Our aim was to systematically analyze the available literature to better understand management and postoperative outcomes of patients undergoing scalp replantation. Methods A systematic review of the PubMed, Cochrane, and EBSCO databases was performed in October 2019. Search terms included “replantation,” “replant,” “revascularized,” “revascularization,” “avulsion,” and “scalp.” Only papers reporting microvascular replantation of completely avulsed scalps, including case reports, were included. Review articles, non-English language articles, articles discussing nonreplant coverage, incomplete scalp avulsions, and articles discussing delayed scalp replantation were excluded. Data extracted included demographics, percent of scalp affected, mechanism, operative technique, and postoperative outcomes. Statistical analysis was performed using Mann–Whitney U tests, Kruskal–Wallis, and chi-squared tests. Results From a total of 704 initial results, 61 studies were included for analysis comprising 149 scalps. Complete survival was achieved in 54.7%, partial survival in 38.9%, and failure in 6.7%. Total ischemia time greater than 12 hours was associated with complete replant failure. Arterial anastomoses appeared to protect against complete loss. The number of venous repairs, proportion of venous-to-arterial repairs, use of vein grafts, thromboprophylaxis, or intraoperative complications did not affect outcomes. Patients required significant volumes of blood products, which was associated with partial success. Salvage rate after unplanned return to the operating room was 60.0%. Normal hair growth was achieved in all surviving native scalp tissue. Conclusion Scalp replantations, while technically challenging, are the ideal treatment for scalp avulsions. Fortunately, these have high rates of success. And as a focal point of a patient's appearance, this is invaluable in restoration of a sense of normalcy.

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Formulation of the problem. National Natural Parks (NNP) – protected areas where anthropogenic and natural landscapes are combined in the same territory. In addition, the main functions of such objects are significantly competitive, which requires monitoring of changes in existing landscapes. It is necessary to define the local objects which, being the most sensitive, at the same time have small plasticity, therefore, are capable to react quickly and adequately to any changes. That is what we call indicative. Analysis of recent research and publications. Many researchers of the USA, Great Britain, Germany, Australia conduct landscape monitoring using remote sensing data and GIS technologies. For example, D. Keith, S. Rodoreda, L. Holman, R. Noss, U. Walz, and others. The National Inventory of Landscapes in Sweden studies development of modern landscape monitoring in countries of Europe. Landscape Monitoring of Terrestrial Ecosystems, studied by researches R. Kennedy, J. Jons, K. Jones and others allow using data of satellite for selection of plant contours using Gis-technology. Landscape monitoring of the territory of NNP «Slobozhanskiy» has never been carried out. The aim of the study is to choose satellite images, taking into account the area of the study, the choice of optimal methods of their processing for the compilation of a database of landscape structure facies for landscape monitoring based on long-term observations on the ground, comparing their results with geodata. We have determined wetlands, as landscape indicators. Presentation of the main material of the study. Comprehensive analysis of remote sensing data carried out by the authors, allowed us to make sure that vegetation cover is the most indicative, except for the contours of wetlands, which are clearly identified and easily compared in multi-spectral images. It is reliably determined by the characteristic features combine with the corresponding spectral ranges and the image structure. In addition, changes in vegetation allows you to visually determine changes in landscape groupings and the speed of these changes. Summary. The indicative features of landscape monitoring are wetlands, and there are two direct indicators: the contours of wetlands and the change in the aspect of vegetation. The monitoring method is a multispectral analysis of images obtained by processing combinations of spectral channels, which showed the ability to determine the changes in the selection, taking into account reflectivity of the surface. Limitations of the method are the following: there is no established method of meticulous analysis of changes in the structure of vegetation, which is observed visually, but is not reflected instrumentally; inability to take into account random features of the territory conditions and space scanning at a certain point, which is interesting for the study. Finally, the types of monitoring objects, indicative signs of changes and ways to track them according to high-precision and generally available satellite information are determined.

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Abstract The European framework of health information (HI) consists - besides the supra-national framework - of national frameworks of health infrastructures. It is therefore essential to strengthening capacities to provide HI and carry out research in countries. Nowadays, one can experience lack of coordination, communication and cooperation between stakeholders in a country, leading to overlap or duplication of research and field-work. InfAct proposes a tool to overcome a majority of these difficulties by encouraging MSs to establish national nodes (NN) as a national focal point for DIPoH. A NN is a building block of DIPoH often coordinated by a national institution or governmental unit that functions as a NN and brings together relevant national stakeholders in an organised way. Researchers from public health institutes and research groups constitute the NN to share expertise and updated knowledge on HI with each other. Currently, there are some active NN in the EU, with differences in scope, scale and initial purpose, due to different organisation of HI systems in countries. Such heterogeneity can also be found in national eHealth strategies. Diverse organizational arrangements exist which has proven to influence collaborative activities. At the same time new needs are arising, such as to better bridge the digital HI between research and health care, so that our health care systems can faster contribute to integrated data driven insights. This also relates to the debate on the Health Data Space, which creation is stated in the mission letter to the new European Commissioner for Health. For example, the eHealth Network has been discussing policy documents targeted at national level policy with regard to the organization of National eHealth Networks. In this pitch presentation, an overview of different practices will be presented with proposals for future work in this area, including the role of NN in DIPoH and proposals for their sustainability. Panelists: H Van Oyen Epidemiology and Public Health, Sciensano, Brussels, Belgium Department of Public Health, Ghent University, Ghent, Belgium Contact: herman.vanoyen@sciensano.be S Montante Brussels Liaison Office, National Institute of Health of Italy (ISS), Brussels, Belgium Contact: sabrina.montante@iss.it E Bacry Health Data Hub, Santś publique France, Paris, France E Bernal-Delgado Health Services and Policy Research Group, Institute for Health Sciences in Aragon, Zaragoza, Spain Contact: ebernal.iacs@aragon.es C Sousa Pinto Advanced Analytics and Intelligence, Shared Services In Ministry Of Health, Lisbon, Portugal Contact: catiasousapinto@gmail.com

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A 59 year old male with a past medical history of cholecystectomy and essential hypertension, presented to the emergency department with severe back pain, abdominal discomfort, poor appetite, generalized fatigue and progressive weight loss of 10 kgs over a three-month period. He has never been a smoker and drinks alcohol occasionally. He has no known allergies and no familial history of cancer. His current home medication includes beta blocker; angiotensin receptor blocker and low dose acetylsalicylic acid. His back pain started two months prior to presentation; it is not well localized to specific vertebra, not irradiating to lower limbs and sometimes related to weight lifting and cough. It is rarely exacerbated at night. His orthopedic surgeon attributed it to osteoarthritis since the patient used to practice hard manual work and weights lifting at his shop. He has been treated since that time with NSAIDs, muscle relaxant and opioids without complete analgesic response. At presentation, he had no fever, chills or night sweats. He had no urinary or sexual complaints that would suggest prostatic disease and was otherwise asymptomatic. The physical examination showed diffuse pain on lumbar vertebral percussion and abdominal tenderness in the right upper quadrant. He has no skin lesions and no palpable peripheral lymph nodes. His neurologic examination was also normal. On admission, significant laboratory findings showed hemoglobin 11.8 g/dl, platelets of 97,000 k/ul, white blood count 4,400 k/ul, ESR=40, creatinine 0.4 mg/dl,CRP 7.5 mg/L, lactate dehydrogenase 2256 U/L, alanine aminotransferase (ALAT) 70 U/L, gamma-glutamyl transferase (GGT) 1500 U/L, total bilirubin 2.32 mg/dl, and a creatine kinase (CK) 167 U/L. Prostatic specific antigen (PSA) was normal and equal to 1.17 ng/ml. Peripheral smear displayed normal pattern and thyroid tests were all within normal ranges. He was negative for salmonellosis, brucellosis and HIV. Tuberculin PPD test was negative as well. His chest X-ray was normal and abdominopelvic ultrasound showed only multiple liver nodules and mild prostate hypertrophy without ascites or significant abdominal lymph nodes. Lumbar MRI done one week before his admission revealed multiple vertebral lytic lesions without spinal cord compression. PET/CT done on the third day at hospital revealed a significant uptake of radiotracer by multiple small nodules in the right lung, in the liver and by multiple lymph nodes within the abdominal cavity. Moreover there were many lytic lesions in the dorsal and lumbar vertebrae. Surprisingly, the scan also showed focal, intense uptake of the prostate with a SUVmax of 8, 28 with evidence of seminal vesicles invasion. Both gastroscopy and colonoscopy was normal as well as his brain MRI. Ultrasound-guided liver nodules biopsies performed on the fifth day after stopping the acetylsalicylic acid revealed neuroendocrine small cell carcinoma as it showed immunohistochemical (IHC) positivity for synaptophysin and CD56. IHC was negative for TTF1 and PSA. Ultrasound-guided biopsy of the prostate was not performed for medical reasons as on his hospital day 7, the patient started feeling numbness and muscle weakness in his lower limbs more severe on the left side associated with urinary incontinence and revealing a spinal cord compression by secondary bone lesions. Regarding this rapidly progressive disease, high dose dexamethasone subcutaneous therapy and ten sessions of focused proton beam radiotherapy has been conducted on daily basis to release the spinal cord compression without significant improvement. Meanwhile, and based on liver biopsy findings, treatment by octreotide 100mg S/C twice daily was started, followed by chemotherapy with Carboplatin, Etoposide, and Atezolizumab (TECENTRIQ) 1200mg. Few days after, the patient developed severe prolonged pancytopenia requiring blood and platelets transfusions and treatment with double dose of granulocyte stimulating growth factor. His prolonged neutropenia was complicated by CMV colitis with unretractable diarrhea, bilateral pneumonia and pseudomonas aeroginosa septicemia. After one month of large spectrum antibiotics, antiviral and antifungal treatment, and while he was still neutropenic, bone marrow biopsy revealed severe infiltration by neuroendocrine small cell carcinoma. The patient was still deteriorating clinically and showing further weight and appetite loss, total muscle weakness and asthenia. At this point, he was no longer a candidate for chemotherapy but only symptomatic treatment was maintained. He died 45 days after his admission.

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ObjectiveTo assess the relationship between seasonal increases in emergency department (ED) and urgent care center (UCC) visits for hand, foot, and mouth disease (HFMD) among children 0-4 years old and average dew point temperatures in Virginia. To determine if this relationship can be used to develop an early warning tool for high intensity seasons of HFMD, allowing for earlier targeted public health action and communication to the community and local childcare centers during these high intensity seasons.IntroductionHand, foot, and mouth disease is a highly infectious disease common among early childhood populations caused by human enteroviruses (Enterovirus genus).1 The enteroviruses responsible for HFMD generally cause mild illness among children in the United States with symptoms of fever and rash/blisters, but have also been linked to small outbreaks of severe neurological disease such as meningitis, encephalitis, and acute flaccid myelitis.2Enteroviruses circulate year-round but increase in the summer-fall months across much of the United States.3 The drivers of this seasonality are not fully understood, but research indicates climatic factors, rather than demographic ones, are most likely to drive the amplitude and timing of the seasonal peaks.3 A recent CDC study on nonpolio enteroviruses identified dew point temperature as a strong predictor of local enterovirus seasonality, explaining around 30% of the variation in intensity of transmission across the United States.3MethodsSyndromic surveillance data on ED and UCC visits among 0-4 year olds in Virginia were analyzed from January 1, 2012 to August 31, 2018. Visits for HFMD were identified using the following chief complaint and discharge diagnosis terms: hand, foot, and mouth; HFM; fever with rash, lesions, or blisters; ICD-10 code: B08.4; or SNOMED CT code: 266108008. Visits for HFMD among 0-4 year olds were aggregated by week and calculated as a proportion of all ED and UCC visits among this age group during the study period.Hourly dew point readings from the Richmond International Airport from January 1, 2012 to August 31, 2018 were obtained from the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA), National Climatic Data Center (NCDC). NOAA readings were averaged by week to establish a mean dew point for each week during the study period. Correlation analyses were performed on weekly dew point temperatures and weekly percent of HFMD visits. Weekly dew point averages were used to determine low-activity weeks at which to measure baseline percentages of HFMD visits. A low-activity week was defined as periods of two or more consecutive weeks in which each week had an average dew point temperature of less than 55.4 degrees Fahrenheit.3 To assess if HFMD seasons varied in intensity from year to year, a Kruskal-Wallis test was used to assess significant differences by year among the mean weekly percent of HFMD visits during high-activity weeks.An early warning threshold for a high intensity season was developed by calculating the mean percent of HFMD visits during low-activity weeks for the previous three years and adding two standard deviations. Threshold rates were calculated for years 2015 through 2018 and compared to the percentage of 0-4 year old HFMD visits during high-activity weeks. The week where percent of HFMD visits crossed the early warning threshold in 2018 was assessed to determine when public health notifications could have been made to alert the community about a high intensity (above threshold) HFMD season if this early warning tool had been utilized.ResultsBetween January 1, 2012 and August 31, 2018, there were 27,181 visits for HFMD among children aged 0-4 years. Mean and median weekly percent of HFMD visits were 1.33% and 1.01% of total 0-4 year old visits, respectively, with a range from 0.18% to 5.32%. These visits were most prominent during the summer or fall each year, with annual peaks occurring between weeks 22-46.Weekly percent of HFMD visits and average weekly dew point temperatures were significantly correlated (r=0.562, p<.0001). The mean weekly dew point temperature for high-activity weeks was 67.2 degrees Fahrenheit, with a range between 49.3 and 73.5 degrees. A Kruskal-Wallis test showed a significant difference in the mean weekly percent of visits by year for high-activity weeks (p<.0001).Over the 4 years of data to which the threshold was applied, percent of HFMD visits crossed the threshold in 2016 and 2018, indicating both years experienced high intensity HFMD seasons (Fig. 1). Percent of HFMD visits never crossed the early warning threshold in 2015 nor 2017. In 2018, the threshold was met on Week 21 (week ending June 2, 2018) which was more than 3 weeks prior to when public health notifications were made using routine surveillance methods through ESSENCE.ConclusionsVisits for HFMD among the young childhood population (0-4 year olds) in Virginia exhibit annual summer-fall seasonality with significant differences between the percent of visits from year to year. Seasons exhibiting a significantly higher percent of HFMD visits during high-activity weeks warrant a greater level of public health communication and outreach to educate parents, physicians and childcare centers about the disease and prevention measures. It can be difficult to differentiate high intensity seasons from low intensity seasons in the early weeks of increasing disease activity. Traditional syndromic surveillance methods using ESSENCE identify significant increases in HFMD visits from the previous 90 days, but do not readily alert on differences in seasonality from year to year. These results support the use of dew point temperature data to develop an early warning tool for high intensity seasons of HFMD. This early warning tool will allow for more efficient use of resources and targeted outreach during years with particularly high HFMD activity within the young childhood population. This early warning tool will be implemented by the Virginia Department of Health in 2019 to evaluate its effectiveness at identifying high HFMD activity in real-time.References1. Khetsuriani N, Lamonte-Fowlkes A, Oberst S, Pallansch MA. Enterovirus surveillance—United States, 1970–2005. MMWR Surveill Summ 2006;55(No. SS-8). https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/169718902. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (2018). Hand, Foot, and Mouth Disease (HFMD). Retrieved Sept 25, 2018, from https://www.cdc.gov/hand-foot-mouth/about/complications.html.3. Pons-Salort M, Oberste MS, Pallansch MA, et al. The seasonality of nonpolio enteroviruses in the United States: patterns and drivers. Proc Natl Acad Sci U S A 2018;115:3078–83 http://doi.org/10.1073/pnas.1721159115

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En anthropologie, la migration, du mot latin migratio, signifie en principe un déplacement physique d’un être humain (migration humaine), bien que des déplacements non-humains soient aussi qualifiés de migrations (migration animale, migration de plantes, migration de planètes etc.). Suite à la généralisation de l’État-nation comme forme d’organisation politique au 19e siècle, on distingue surtout la migration transnationale (qui implique le déplacement d’au moins une frontière nationale) et la migration interne (à l’intérieur de frontières étatiques). Par ailleurs, ces migrations peuvent prendre la forme d’une migration pendulaire (mouvement de va-et-vient), circulaire (mouvement en cercle), saisonnière (migration de travail influencé par les saisons agricoles) ou durable, menant à une installation et une naturalisation. Parmi les causes, on a longtemps souligné les migrations de travail alors que les cas de migrations climatiques et forcées augmentent de façon significative : migrations imposées par le contexte, notamment politique, par exemple pendant une guerre civile ou encore déplacements engendrés par des changements climatiques comme une sècheresse ou l’avancement du désert dans la zone du Sahel. Le tourisme est parfois considéré comme une forme volontaire de migration à courte durée. Jusqu’à présent, peu de travaux lient les réflexions sur les migrations avec celles sur la mobilité (Ortar, Salzbrunn et Stock, à paraître). Certaines recherches sur l’ethnicité (Barth 1999 [1969]) et la transnationalisation ainsi que de nouvelles catégories statistiques développées au niveau gouvernemental témoignent du fait que certaines personnes peuvent être considérées ou perçues comme migrant-e-s sans avoir jamais effectué un déplacement physique au-delà des frontières nationales de leur pays de naissance. Ainsi, aux Pays-Bas et en Belgique, dans le discours politique, on distingue parfois autochtones (grec, littéralement terre d’ici) et allochtones (grec, littéralement terre d’ailleurs). Au Pays-Bas, on entend par allochtone une personne qui y réside et dont au moins un parent est né à l’étranger. Ce terme était destiné à remplacer le terme « immigré », mais il continue à renvoyer des résidents (voire des citoyens) à (une partie de) leur origine. Le terme allemand « Migrationshintergrund » (littéralement background migratoire) pose le même problème. L’anthropologie s’intéresse de facto dès l’émergence de la discipline aux migrations, notamment dans l’étude de sociétés pastorales (en focalisant les déplacements des éleveurs et de leurs troupeaux) ou dans l’analyse des processus d’urbanisation (suite à la migration du monde rural vers les villes). En revanche, l’anthropologie des migrations et de la transnationalisation n’émergent que dans les années 1990 en tant que champ portant explicitement ce nom – d’abord dans le monde anglophone (Glick Schiller N., Basch L. et C. Blanc Szanton 1992, Hannerz U. 1996), et ensuite dans le monde francophone (Raulin A., D. Cuche et L. Kuczynski 2009 Revue Européenne des Migrations internationales, 2009, no. 25, vol. 3), germanophone (Pries L. 1996), italophone (Riccio 2014), hispanophone, lusophone etc.. La traite des esclaves et les déportations de millions de personnes d’Afrique Sub-Saharienne vers l’Europe et les Amériques, qui ont commencé au 17e siècle et duré jusqu’en 1920, ont été étudiées dans le cadre de l’anthropologie marxiste (Meillassoux 1986) puis par des historiens comme Olivier Pétré-Grenouilleau (2004) ou encore par Tidiane N’Diaye (2008), ce dernier ayant mis l’accent sur la longue et intense implication de commerçants arabes dans la traite négrière. La violente « mission civilisatrice » ou campagne de conquête coloniale a très souvent été accompagnée d’une mission de conversion au christianisme, ce qui a fait l’objet de publications en anthropologie depuis une trentaine d’années sous l’impulsion de Jean et John Comaroff (1991) aux Etats-Unis, et plus récemment en France (Prudhomme 2005). Selon les contextes régionaux, l’une ou l’autre forme de migration a été étudiée de manière prépondérante. En Chine, les migrations internes, notamment du monde rural vers les villes, concernent presque autant de personnes dans l’absolu (229,8 millions en 2009 selon l’Organisation internationale du Travail) que les migrant-e-s transnationaux dans le monde entier (243,7 millions en 2015 selon les Nations Unies/UN International Migration Report). Le pourcentage de ces derniers par rapport à la population mondiale s’élève à environ trois pour cent, ce qui semble en décalage avec la forte attention médiatique accordée aux migrant-e-s transnationaux en général et aux réfugiés en particulier. En effet, la très grande majorité des déplacé-e-s dans le monde reste à l’intérieur des frontières d’un État-nation (Withol de Wenden C., Benoît-Guyod M. 2016), faute de moyens financiers, logistiques ou juridiques (passeport, visa). La majorité des réfugiés politiques ou climatiques reste à l’intérieur des frontières nationales ou dans un des pays voisins. Ainsi, selon l’UNHCR/ l’Agence des Nations Unies pour les Réfugiés, sur les 65,3 millions de personnes déplacées de force, 40,8 millions étaient des déplacé-e-s internes et seulement 3,2 millions des demandeur-e-s d’asile en 2015. L’urbanisation croissante qui s’opère dans le monde suscite une augmentation de la migration de travail, notamment en Chine. Dans cet État, le système d’enregistrement et d’état-civil (hukou) limite l’accès aux services sociaux (santé, école, etc.) à la commune de naissance : un changement de résidence est soumis à des conditions restrictives, ce qui engendre une perte de droits élémentaires pour des dizaines de millions de migrants ruraux ne possédant pas de permis de résidence (Jijiao 2013). En France, jusqu’au tournant culturel (qui marque une bifurcation de la focale de la recherche vers les appartenances culturelles et religieuses des personnes étudiées) dans les années 1990, les sciences sociales des migrations, notamment la sociologie des migrations, ont surtout étudié les conditions et rapports de travail, les inégalités sociales ou encore la politique du logement et les inégalités spatiales (Salzbrunn 2015), conduisant ainsi à une très forte focalisation sur les rapports de classe et sur les conditions de vie des immigré-e-s des anciennes colonies. La migration des personnes hautement qualifiées n’a en revanche été que peu étudiée. Après la chute du mur de Berlin, les « appartenances multiples » (concept central de l’ouvrage de Yuval-Davis, Viethen et Kannabiran 2006), notamment religieuses (Capone 2010), ont été privilégiées comme objet de recherche. Cette tendance, accompagnée par un climat politique de plus en plus xénophobe dans certains pays européens, a parfois pointé vers une « ethnicisation » de la religion (Tersigni, Vincent et Willems, à paraître). Le glissem*nt de perception d’une population de la catégorie des « travailleurs immigrés » ou « Gastarbeiter » (littéralement « travailleurs invités ») vers celle de « musulmans » s’inscrit dans un processus d’altérisation, sous-entendant dans les deux cas qu’il s’agit d’un groupe hom*ogène marqué par les mêmes caractéristiques, et ignorant de ce fait la « diversité au sein de la diversité » (Vertovec 2010), notamment les différences en termes de niveau de formation, de genre, d’âge, de statut juridique, de préférence sexuelle, du rapport aux discours et pratiques religieux etc. Beaucoup d’études se sont ainsi focalisées sur des groupes fondés sur le critère d’une nationalité ou d’une citoyenneté commune, ce qui a été critiqué comme relevant d’un « nationalisme méthodologique » (Glick Schiller et Caglar 2011). Même le nouveau champ de recherches consacré aux espaces sociaux transnationaux (Basch, Glick Schiller et Szanton Blanc 1992 ; Salzbrunn 2016) a parfois été (auto-)critiqué pour la reproduction des frontières nationales à travers une optique transnationale. Ont alors émergé des réflexions sur une relocalisation de la migration (Glick Schiller et Caglar 2011) et sur l’enracinement spatial de la migration dans des espaces sociaux translocaux (Salzbrunn 2011). Bien que la moitié de la population migratoire soit féminine, les aspects de genre n’ont été étudiés que très tardivement (Morokvasic-Müller 1984), d’abord dans un contexte de regroupement ou de liens familiaux maintenus pendant la migration (Delcroix 2001 ; Kofman 2004 ; Kofman et Raghuram 2014), puis dans celui des approches féministes du développement (Verschuur et Reysoo 2005), de la migration du travail et des frontières genrées (Nouvelles Questions Féministes 26, 2007). En effet, les dynamiques internationales dans la division du travail engendrent une chaîne globale des soins (« global care chain ») qui repose essentiellement sur les femmes, que ce soit dans le domaine médical, de la pédiatrie ou des soins aux personnes âgées. La réflexion sur la division internationale du travail reproductif a été entreprise par Rhacel Parrenas (2000) et développée par Arlie Hochschild (2000). On peut obtenir une vue d’ensemble des projets européens consacrés au genre et à la migration, voir les résultats du projet européen GEMMA. Enhancing Evidence Based Policy-Making in Gender and Migration : http://gemmaproject.seminabit.com/whatis.aspx En anthropologie politique, l’évolution de systèmes politiques sous l’impact d’une migration de retour, a été étudiée dans un contexte postcolonial (von Weichs 2013). De manière générale, les réflexions menées dans un contexte études postcoloniales de ce type n’ont été entreprises que tardivement en France, et ce souvent dans une optique très critique, voire hostile à ces débats (L’Homme 156, 2000). Parmi les autres sujets traités actuellement en anthropologie des migrations se trouvent les inégalités sociales et spatiales, les dynamiques religieuses transnationales (Argyriadis et al. 2012), les réfugiés et leurs moyens d’expressions politiques et artistiques (Salzbrunn 2014) ou musicales (Civilisations 67, 2018 ; Salzbrunn, Souiah et Mastrangelo 2015). Enfin, le développement conceptuel du phénomène de transnationalisation ou des espaces sociaux translocaux, voire le retour à la « localisation de la migration » (titre de l’ouvrage de Glick Schiller et Caglar 2011) sont des réponses constructives à la question : Comment étudier les migrations dans des sociétés super-diverses (Vertovec 2011) sans réifier leurs appartenances ?

Abstract:

The film opens in an unidentified wax museum. The camera pans from right to left, zooming in on key Black historical figures who have been memorialized in wax. W.E.B. Du Bois, Marian Anderson, Booker T. Washington, Frederick Douglass, and Duke Ellington stand out. The final wax figure, a Black man, sits with an empty card box in his right hand and a lit cigarette in his left. The film’s narrator appears: a slim, afroed Black man. He sits to the right of the figure. The only living person in a room full of bodies, he reaches over to grab the cigarette. To his inanimate companion he nonchalantly says “Oh. Thank you very much. Needed that” and ashes the cigarette.The afroed, cigarette-ashing narrator is poet, novelist, and musician Gil Scott-Heron. The film is Black Wax (1982), directed by Robert Mugge. Black Wax is equal parts concert film, social documentary, and political statement by the poet. Set in Washington, D.C. and released in the midst of singer Stevie Wonder’s long campaign to make Martin Luther King Jr.’s birthday a national holiday, Scott-Heron’s film feels, in part, like an extension of Wonder’s wider effort. The year prior, Wonder held a massive rally in the city to demonstrate national support for the creation of the holiday. Reportedly, over 100,000 people attended. Wonder, building on mounting support of the proposed holiday made his song in honor of MLK Jr.—“Happy Birthday”—an integral part of his upcoming tour with Bob Marley. When Marley fell ill, Scott-Heron stepped in to lend his talents to Wonder’s cause. He would then participate in the Washington, D.C. rally that featured speeches from Diana Ross and Jesse Jackson (Cuepoint).Between live performances of various songs from his catalogue, Scott-Heron stages walking interludes wherein his wiry frame ambles through the city. Most are sonically accompanied by verses from his song “Washington, D.C.” He also folds in excerpts from his poems, personal reflections, and critiques of President Ronald Reagan’s administration. Scott-Heron ambulates a historically sedimented reality; namely that Washington, D.C. is a segregated city and that America, more broadly, is a divided nation. Against the backdrop of national monuments, his stroll stages critiques of the country’s racist past. In Black Wax, song becomes walk becomes interlude becomes critique.Throughout the 1970s, Scott-Heron used his politically conscious poetry and music to mount strident critiques of social relations. Songs like “The Revolution Will Not Be Televised”, “Winter in America”, and “Home Is Where the Hatred Is” reflect the artist’s larger concern with the stories Americans tell ourselves about who we are. This carried over into the 1980s. In his 1981 song “B-Movie”, Scott-Heron examines the ascent of Ronald Reagan, from actor to president. For the poet, the distinction is false, since Reagan “acted” his way into office. As an “actor in chief” Reagan represent a politically conservative regime that began before his entry into the White House. Reagan’s conservative politics were present when he was Governor of California and clashing with the Black Panther Party. Scott-Heron seized upon this history in Black Wax, tracing it all the way to the nation’s capital.A tour is “a journey for business, pleasure, or education often involving a series of stops and ending at the starting point” (“Tour”). Tours can offer closed-loop narratives that creates for participants a “safe” distance from the historical conditions which makes the location they are visiting possible. Scott-Heron undermines the certainly of that formulation with this wandering. In song and stride, he fashions himself a tour guide. This is not in the sense of taking the viewer into the “hood” to evidence urban decay. Rather, the poet’s critical amble undermines a national memory project that removes race from histories of the nation’s capital.Scott-Heron, self-styled Bluesologist, traveler, wanders through the world with a marrow-deep knowledge about the historical dynamics animating Black life. Walking richly informs how he relates to space. For Michel de Certeau, “the act of walking is to the urban system what the speech act is to language or to the statements uttered [...] it is a process of appropriation of the topographical system on the part of the pedestrian […] a spatial acting-out of the place […] and it implies relations among differentiated positions” (97-98). For Scott-Heron, the “relations among differentiated positions” is informed by his identity as a Black American. His relationship to race imbues him with what Black geographer Katherine McKittrick calls a “black sense of place.” According to McKittrick,a black sense of place can be understood as the process of materially and imaginatively situating historical and contemporary struggles against practices of domination and the difficult entanglements of racial encounter […][it] is not a steady, focused, and hom*ogenous way of seeing and being in place, but rather a set of changing and differentiated perspectives that are illustrative of, and therefore remark upon, legacies of normalized racial violence that calcify, but do not guarantee, the denigration of black geographies and their inhabitants. (949-950)Scott-Heron elaborates on McKittrick’s concept through a series of walking interludes wherein he refuses a national narrative of harmonious racial progress. He dismisses an American fantasy of race, and it is not new. In “What America Would Be Like without Blacks” writer Ralph Ellison dissects the ways that Americans have historically tried to “get shut” of Black people, all while actively thriving on Black America’s cultural contributions. Scott-Heron’s black sense of place is articulated through a series of ambulant interventions that (subtly) acknowledge national violences while highlighting the often unspoken presence of Black people thriving in the nation’s capital.Visually, the poet sequesters national monuments to the background. Reducing their scale and stripping them of their dwarfing capacity while also actively not naming them. He miniaturizes them. This allows him to centre his critique of national history and politics. For Scott-Heron, the Capital Building and the White House are not sites to be revered. They are symbols of an ongoing betrayal perpetrated by the Reagan administration.The scenes I examine here are not representative. That isn’t my project. I am much more interested in the film as a wandering text, one that pushes at tensions in order to untether the viewer from a constricting narrative about who they might be. According to Sarah Jane Cervenak, “wandering aligns with the free at precisely those moments when it bends away from forces that attempt to translate or read” (15). In this regard, I offer this reading as a suggestion. It does not work towards a particular end other than opening the process(es) through which we make meaning of Scott-Heron’s filmic performance. In effect, don’t worry about where you are doing. Just be in the scene. Invite yourself to view the film and elaborate on descriptions offered here. Wander with him. Wander with me.———In his first walking interlude, the poet strolls along the Potomac River with a boombox hoisted upon his left shoulder. He plays a tape of his song “Washington, D.C.”, and as the opening instrumental creeps into audibility he offers his own introductory monologue:yeah, I forget what Washington did on the Potomac. This is the Potomac. Black folks would sometimes refer to that as the Po-to-mac [...] This here is the Potomac. Saw a duck floating out there a little while ago. Yeah, somebody said now that Reagan is in charge we’re all ducks. Dead ducks. You dig it?Walking along the Potomac, his slow gait is the focus. He stares directly at the camera and speaks to the viewer, to us. His (willful) forgetting of what George Washington “did on the Potomac” suggests that major figures in American history do not hold equal significance for all Americans. In fact, for Scott-Heron, the viewer/we might also do well to forget. His monologue smoothly transitions into the first verse of “Washington, D.C.”:Symbols of democracy, are pinned against the coastOuthouse of bureaucracy, surrounded by a moatCitizens of poverty are barely out of sightOverlords escape near evening, the brother’s on at nightMorning comes and brings the tourists, straining rubber necksPerhaps a glimpse of the cowboy making the world a nervous wreckIt’s a mass of irony for all the world to seeIt’s the nation’s capital, it’s Washington D.C. It’s the nation’s capitalIt’s the nation’s capitalIt’s the nation’s capital, it’s Washington D.C.(mmmm-hmmm)He feigns no allegiance to Washington, D.C. or the city’s touristic artifice. As the lyrics indicate, poverty stricken Americans’ proximity to physical symbols of national wealth belie the idea that democracy is successful. For him, poverty is as symbolic as monuments. Yet Scott-Heron does not visually exploit Americans living in poverty. This isn’t that kind of tour. Instead, he casts his gaze on the “symbol[s] of democracy” that celebrate the “outhouse of bureaucracy” that is Washington, D.C.As the poet continues his stroll along the Potomac, the Jefferson Memorial appears in the background. He has no interest in it. He does not name it, nor does he gesture to it in any way. Instead, he focuses his attention on the camera, the viewer, us. While the camera lags slightly behind him, rather than turn his attention to the river that he walks along, he looks over his right shoulder to re-establish eye contact with the camera. His indifference is reinforced by the nonchalant stride that never breaks. The Jefferson Memorial nor the Potomac River are objects to marvel at. They hold no amount of significance that would require the poet or viewer/us to stop and ponder them or their alleged importance. With eyes and feet, he keeps them where he wants them ... in the background.———In another interlude Scott-Heron, still holding the boombox atop his shoulder, appears in the courtyard area of an apartment complex. The repetition of his outfit, boombox location, and music give continuity to the scene by the Potomac and the unidentified neighborhood. His outfit is the same one he wears when walking by the Potomac and the boombox remains on his shoulder. Reciting the next verse of “Washington, D.C.”, it seems like he’s walking through a tableau.May not have the glitter or the glamour of L.A.It may not have the history or intrigue of PompeiiBut when it comes to making music, and sure enough making newsOr people who just don’t make sense, and people making doSeems a massive contradiction, pulling different waysBetween the folks who come and go, and one’s who’ve got to stayIt’s a mass of irony for all the world to seeIt’s the nation’s capital, it’s Washington, D.C. He strolls along the sidewalk, the camera zooming in on his face. Over his right shoulder two Black kids pose on their bikes as men stand around them. The camera rotates clockwise, giving a slight panoramic view of the apartment building in the background. Residents crowd the doorway, a combination of what appears to be overlapping greetings and farewells. The ambiguous actions of the people in the background smoothly contrasts with the poet’s lean frame while his focus on the camera/viewer enlarges his presence.The scene also includes various people sitting on park benches. We do not know if they are residents or visitors. In many ways, the distinction does not matter. What we see is comfort in the faces and bodies of the Black people immediately behind Scott-Heron. On one bench we see two people. The first is a Black man who hoists his right leg up, resting his foot on the bench. As the boombox plays and the poet raps, the man taps his knee and snaps his fingers. Similarly, a Black woman in a red dress sitting on the same bench responds to Scott-Heron’s presence and his music with a committed head bob and toe tap. On another bench, three young Black men nod coolly as they watch the poet recite the remainder of his verse.It’s the nation’s capitalIt’s the nation’s capitalIt’s the nation’s capital, it’s Washington D.C.He walks us through the partially-animated tableau wherein the folks sitting behind him subtly reinforce the message he directly communicates to the viewer/us.———In another interlude, three scenes are cut into one. In the first, the Capital Building looms in the distance as Scott-Heron enters the frame. He gestures toward the building and notes the ways that tours distract visitors from the real Washington:Let me tell you, those tours are all the same. They bring you around to places like this [gestures toward the Capital Building]. They might even tell you who the jackass is on the horse or the guy on top of the building, but they never show you the real Washington.Should’ve been around the 15th of January. That’s when Stevie Wonder was holding this rally. It was about 50,000 gathered there. They were trying to demonstrate and make Dr. King’s birthday a national holiday. But it’s always the same. The Capital. The Hoover Building. Maybe sometimes they’d even show you the Washington Monument [gestures towards the monument in the distance]. But that’s not a look at the real Washington. The one I’d like to show you is something special. You wanna see what’s happening in the nation’s capital? Come with me… (Black Wax)Since the standard D.C. tour leaves out the real Washington, the poet primes the viewer for the real thing. His mention of Stevie Wonder allows the poet to connect the viewer to that real Washington, Black Washington. This is the Washington that boasts Ben’s Chili Bowl, Howard University, and Scurlock Studios as cultural institutions. This is the Washington that would welcome the creation of a holiday in honor of Martin Luther King Jr. The scene quickly transitions to Scott-Heron walking down the streets of a presumably Black neighborhood. This neighborhood is outside the purview of tour mobile routes. There is nothing remarkable about the neighborhood. Nothing monumental. The street is lined with row houses. In the background, Black pedestrians passively observe or go about their day. One young Black man smokes a cigarette as Scott-Heron casually walks past him. For Scott-Heron, these folks are the “life-blood of the city” yet he does not speak with them, perhaps because his point is not to put these people on display but to formally acknowledge who gets left out of official narratives. The segment concludes with a return to Heron’s stroll along the Potomac, where he picks up another verse to “Washington, D.C.”:Seems to me, it’s still in light time people knifed up on 14th streetMakes me feel it’s always the right time for them people showing up and coming cleanDid make the one seem kind of numbIt’s the nation’s capitalIt’s the nation’s capitalIt’s the nation’s capital, it’s Washington D.C. ConclusionI’ll end with this. In a final scene, the poet walks in along the front gates of the White House. He holds a little Black girl’s hand and smokes a cigarette. Together they stroll along the gates of the White House. Their movement, from right to left, suggest a return. A going back to. However, this return is not nostalgic. It is accusatory. It is a reckoning with the unrealised promises that America doles out to its citizens. He notes:the protests that are launched in this country are not launched necessarily against the government. They are launched in terms of the fact that this country has rarely lived up to its advanced publicity. This is supposed to be the land of justice, liberty, and equality and that’s what everybody over here is looking for. (Black Wax)Perhaps, then, Gil Scott-Heron leaves his viewer/us not with a push to March. No. Walking against the miasma of national nostalgia perpetuated through tourism is one way to maintain a black sense of place.ReferencesBaram, Marcus. “How Stevie Wonder Helped Create Martin Luther King Day.” Cuepoint, 18 Jan. 2015. 15 Jul. 2018 <https://medium.com/cuepoint/how-stevie-wonder-helped-create-martin-luther-king-day-807451a78664>.Cervenak, Sarah Jane. Wandering: Philosophical Performances of Racial and Sexual Freedom. Durham: Duke UP, 2014.De Certeau, Michel. The Practice of Everyday Life. Los Angeles: U of California P, 1984.Gil Scott-Heron: Black Wax. Dir. Robert Mugge, performances by Gil Scott-Heron and the Midnight Band. WinStar Home Entertainment, 1982.McKittrick, Katherine. “On Plantations, Prisons, and a Black Sense of Place.” Social and Cultural Geography 12.8 (2011): 947-963. Scott-Heron, Gil. The Last Holiday: A Memoir. New York: Grove Press, 2012.“Tour.” Merriam-Webster. 15 Jul. 2018.<https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/tour>.

Abstract:

Background: Reperfusion following ischemia can lead to more injuries than ischemia itself especially in diabetic patients. The aim of this study was to evaluate the effect of dexmedetomidine on ischemia-reperfusion injury (IRI) in rats with have hepatic IRI and diabetes mellitus. Methodology: Twenty-eight Wistar Albino rats were randomised into four groups as control (C), diabetic (DC), diabetic with hepatic ischemia-reperfusion injury (DIR), and diabetic but administered dexmedetomidine followed by hepatic IRI (DIRD) groups. Hepatic tissue samples were evaluated histopathologically by semiquantitative methods. Malondialdehyde (MDA), superoxide dismutase (SOD), glutathion s-transpherase (GST), and catalase (CAT) enzyme levels were investigated in liver and kidney tissues as oxidative state parameters. Results: In Group DIR; hepatocyte degeneration, sinusoidal dilatation, pycnotic nucleus, and necrotic cells were found to be more in rat hepatic tissue; while mononuclear cell infiltration was higher in the parenchyme. MDA levels were significantly lower; but SOD levels were significantly higher in Group DIRD with regard to Group DIR. In the IRI induced diabetic rats’ hepatic and nephrotic tissues MDA levels, showing oxidative injury, were found to be lower. SOD levels, showing early antioxidant activity, were higher. Conclusion: The enzymatic findings of our study together with the hepatic histopathology indicate that dexmedetomidine has a potential role to decrease IRI. Key words: Hepatic ischemia reperfusion injury; Diabetes mellitus; Dexmedetomidine; Rat; MDA; SOD Citation: Sezen SC, Işık B, Bilge M, Arslan M, Çomu FM, Öztürk L, Kesimci E, Kavutçu M. Effect of dexmedetomidine on ischemia-reperfusion injury of liver and kidney tissues in experimental diabetes and hepatic ischemia-reperfusion injury induced rats. Anaesth Pain & Intensive Care 2016;20(2):143-149 Received: 21 November 2015; Reviewed: 10, 24 December 2015, 9, 10 June 2016; Corrected: 12 December 2015; Accepted: 10 June 2016 INTRODUCTİON Perioperative acute tissue injury induced by ischemia-reperfusion is a comman clinical event caused by reduced blood supply to the tissue being compromised during major surgery. Ischemia leads to cellular injury by depleting cellular energy deposits and resulting in accumulation of toxic metabolites. The reperfusion of tissues that have remained in ischemic conditions causes even more damage.1 Furthermore hepatic ischemia-reperfusion injury (IRI) demonstrates a strong relationship with peri-operative acute kidney injury.2 The etiology of diabetic complications is strongly associated with increased oxidative stress (OS). Diabetic patients are known to have a high risk of developing OS or IRI which results with tissue failure.3 The most important role in ischemia and reperfusion is played by free oxygen radicals.1 In diabetes, characterized by hyperglycemia, even more free oxygen radicals are produced due to oxidation of glucose and glycosylation of proteins.3 The structures which are most sensitive to free oxygen radicals in the cells are membrane lipids, proteins, nucleic acids and deoxyribonucleic acids.1 It has been reported that endogenous antioxidant enzymes [superoxide dismutase (SOD), glutathion s-transpherase (GST), catalase (CAT)] play an important role to alleviate IRI.4-8 Also some pharmacological agents have certain effects on IRI.1 The anesthetic agents influence endogenous antioxidant systems and free oxygen radical formation.9-12 Dexmedetomidine is a selective α-2 adrenoceptor agonist agent. It has been described as a useful and safe adjunct in many clinical applications. It has been found that it may increase urine output by considerably redistributing cardiac output, inhibiting vasopressin secretion and maintaining renal blood flow and glomerular filtration. Previous studies demonstrated that dexmedetomidine provides protection against renal, focal cerebral, cardiac, testicular, and tourniquet-induced IRI.13-18 Arslan et al observed that dexmedetomidine protected against lipid peroxidation and cellular membrane alterations in hepatic IRI, when given before induction of ischemia.17 Si et al18 demonstrated that dexmedetomidine treatment results in a partial but significant attenuation of renal demage induced by IRI through the inactivation of JAK/STAT signaling pathway in an in vivo model. The efficacy of the dexmedetomidine for IRI in diabetic patient is not resarched yet. The purpose of this experimental study was to evaluate the biochemical and histological effects of dexmedetomidine on hepatic IRI in diabetic rat’s hepatic and renal tissue. METHODOLOGY Animals and Experimental Protocol: This study was conducted in the Physiology Laboratory of Kirikkale University upon the consent of the Experimental Animals Ethics Committee of Kirikkale University. All of the procedures were performed according to the accepted standards of the Guide for the Care and Use of Laboratory Animals. In the study, 28 male Wistar Albino rats, weighing between 250 and 300 g, raised under the same environmental conditions, were used. The rats were kept under 20-21 oC at cycles of 12-hour daylight and 12-hour darkness and had free access to food until 2 hours before the anesthesia procedure. The animals were randomly separated into four groups, each containing 7 rats. Diabetes was induced by a single intraperitoneal injection of streptozotocin (Sigma Chemical, St. Louis, MO, USA) at a dose of 65 mg/kg body weight. The blood glucose levels were measured at 72 hrs following this injection. Rats were classified as diabetic if their fasting blood glucose (FBG) levels exceeded 250 mg/dl, and only animals with FBGs of > 250 mg/dl were included in the diabetic groups (dia­betes only, diabetes plus ischemia-reperfusion and diabetes plus dexmedetomidine-ischemia-reperfusion). The rats were kept alive 4 weeks after streptozotocin injection to allow development of chronic dia­betes before they were exposed to ischemia-reperfusion.(19) The rats were weighed before the study. Rats were anesthetized with intraperitoneal ketamine 100 mg/kg. The chest and abdomen were shaved and each animal was fixed in a supine position on the operating table. The abdomen was cleaned with 1% polyvinyl iodine and when dry, the operating field was covered with a sterile drape and median laparotomy was performed. There were four experimental groups (Group C (sham-control; n = 7), (Group DC (diabetes-sham-control; n = 7), Group DIR (diabetes-ischemia-reperfusion; n = 7), and Group DIRD (diabetes-ischemia-reperfusion-dexmedetomidine; n = 7). Sham operation was performed on the rats in Group C and Group DC. The sham operation consisted of mobilization of the hepatic pedicle only. The rats in this group were sacrificed 90 min after the procedure. Hepatic I/R injury was induced in Groups DIR and DIRD respectively with hepatic pedicle clamping using a vascular clamp as in the previous study of Arslan et al.(17) After an ischemic period of 45 min, the vascular clamp was removed. A reperfusion period was maintained for 45 min. In Group DIRD, dexmedetomidine hydrochloride 100 μg/kg, (Precedex 100 μg/2 ml, Abbott®, Abbott Laboratory, North Chicago, Illinois, USA) was administrated via intraperitoneal route 30 minutes before surgery. All the rats were given ketamine 100 mg/kg intraperitoneally and intracardiac blood samples were obtained. Preserving the tissue integrity by avoiding trauma, liver and renal biopsy samples were obtained. Biochemical Analysis: The liver and renal tissues were first washed with cold deionized water to discard blood contamination and then hom*ogenized in a hom*ogenizer. Measurements on cell contest require an initial preparation of the tissues. The preparation procedure may involve grinding of the tissue in a ground glass tissue blender using a rotor driven by a simple electric motor. The hom*ogenizer as a tissue blender similar to the typical kitchen blender is used to emulsify and pulverize the tissue (Heidolph Instruments GMBH & CO KGDiax 900 Germany®) at 1000 U for about 3 min. After centrifugation at 10,000 g for about 60 min, the upper clear layer was taken. MDA levels were determined using the method of Van Ye et al,(20) based on the reaction of MDA with thiobarbituric acid (TBA). In the TBA test reaction, MDA and TBA react in acid pH to form a pink pigment with an absorption maximum at 532 nm. Arbitrary values obtained were compared with a series of standard solutions (1,1,3,3-tetraethoxypropane). Results were expressed as nmol/mg.protein. Part of the hom*ogenate was extracted in ethanol/chloroform mixture (5/3 v/v) to discard the lipid fraction, which caused interferences in the activity measurements of T-SOD, CAT and GST activities. After centrifugation at 10.000 x g for 60 min, the upper clear layer was removed and used for the T-SOD, CAT, GST enzyme activity measurement by methods as described by Durak et al21, Aebi22 and Habig et al23 respectively. One unit of SOD activity was defined as the enzyme protein amount causing 50% inhibition in NBTH2 reduction rate and result were expressed in U/mg protein. The CAT activity method is based on the measurement of absorbance decrease due to H2O2 consumption at 240 nm. The GST activity method is based on the measurement of absorbance changes at 340 nm due to formation of GSH-CDNB complex. Histological determinations: Semiquantitative evaluation technique used by Abdel-Wahhab et al(24) was applied for interpreting the structural changes investigated in hepatic tissues of control and research groups. According to this, (-) (negative point) represents no structural change, while (+) (one positive point) represents mild, (++) (two positive points) medium and (+++) (three positive points) represents severe structural changes. Statistical analysis: The Statistical Package for the Social Sciences (SPSS, Chicago, IL, USA) 20.0 softwre was used for the statistical analysis. Variations in oxidative state parameters, and histopathological examination between study groups were assessed using the Kruskal-Wallis test. The Bonferroni-adjusted Mann-Whitney U-test was used after significant Kruskal-Wallis to determine which groups differed from the others. Results were expressed as mean ± standard deviation (Mean ± SD). Statistical significance was set at a p value < 0.05 for all analyses. RESULTS There was statistically significant difference observed between the groups with respect to findings from the histological changes in the rat liver tissue (hepatocyte degeneration, sinüsoidal dilatation, pycnotic nucleus, prenecrotic cell) determined by light microscopy according to semiquantitative evaluation techniques (p < 0.0001). In Group DIR, hepatocyte degeneration was significantly high compared to Group C, Group DC and Group DIRD (p < 0.0001, p < 0.0001, p = 0.002, respectively), (Table 1, Figure 1-4). Similarly, sinüsoidal dilatation was significantly higher in Group DIR (p < 0.0001, p = 0.004, p = 0.015, respectively). Although, pcynotic nucleus was decreased in Group DIRD, it did not make a significant difference in comparison to Group DIR (p = 0.053), (Table 1, Figure 1-4). The prenecrotic cells were significantly increased in Group DIR, with respect to Group C, Group DC and Group DIRD (p < 0.0001, p = 0.004, p < 0.0001, respectively), (Table 1, Figure 1-4). Table 1. The comparison of histological changes in rat hepatic tissue [Mean ± SD)] p**: Statistical significance was set at a p value < 0.05 for Kruskal-Wallis test *p < 0.05: When compared with Group DIR Figure 1: Light microscopic view of hepatic tissue of Group C (control). VC: vena centralis, *: sinusoids. ®: hepatocytes, k: Kupffer cells, G: glycogen granules, mc: minimal cellular changes, Hematoxilen & Eosin x 40 Figure 2: Light-microscopic view of hepatic tissue of Group DC (diabetes mellitus control) (G: Glycogen granules increased in number, (VC: vena centralis, *:sinusoids. ®:hepatocytes, k:Kupffer cells, G: glycogen granules, mc: minimal cellular changes; Hematoxylin & Eosin x 40) Figure 3: Light-microscopic view of hepatic tissue of Group DIR (Diabetes Mellitus and ischemia-reperfusion) (VC: vena centralis, (H) degenerative and hydrophic hepatocytes, (dej) vena centralis degeneration (centrolobar injury) (*): sinusoid dilatation. (←) pycnotic and hyperchromatic nuclei, MNL: mononuclear cell infiltration, (¯) congestion, K: Kupffer cell hyperplasia, (­) vacuolar degeneration (Hematoxylin & Eosin x 40) Figure 4: Light-microscopic view of hepatic tissue of Group DIRD (Diabetes Mellitus and ischemia-reperfusion together with dexmedetomidine applied group) (VC: vena centralis, (MNL) mononuclear cell infiltration, (dej) hydrophilic degeneration in hepatocytes around vena centralis, (conj) congestion, G: glycogen granules, (←) pycnotic and hyperchromatic nuclei, sinusoid dilatation (*) (Hematoxylin & Eosin x 40) Besides, in liver tissue parenchyma, MN cellular infiltration was a light microscopic finding; and showed significant changes among the groups (p < 0.0001). This was significantly higher in Group DIR, compared to Group C, DC, and DIRD (p < 0.0001, p=0.007, p = 0.007, respectively), (Table 1, Figure 1-4). The enzymatic activity of MDA, SOD and GST in hepatic tissues showed significant differences among the groups [(p = 0.019), (p = 0.034). (p = 0.008) respectively]. MDA enzyme activity was significantly incresed in Group DIR, according to Group C and Group DIRD (p = 0.011, p = 0.016, respectively), (Table 2). In Group DIR SOD enzyme activity was lower with respect to Group C and Group DIRD (p = 0.010, p = 0.038, respectively), (Table 2). The GST enzyme activity was significantly higher in Group DIR, when compared to Group C, DC and DIRD (p = 0.007, p = 0.038, p = 0.039, respectively), (Table 2). Table 2. Oxidative state parameters in rat hepatic tissue [Mean ± SD] p**: Statistical significance was set at a p value < 0.05 for Kruskal-Wallis test *p < 0.05: When compared with Group DIR The enzymatic activity of MDA, SOD in renal tissues, showed significant differences among the groups [(p < 0.0001), (p = 0.008) respectively ]. MDA enzyme activity was significantly incresed in Group DIR, according to Group C and Group DIRD (p < 0.0001, p < 0.0001, respectively). Also MDA enzyme activity level was significantly increased in Group DC, in comparison to Group C and Group DIRD (p = 0.003, p = 0.001, respectively), (Table 3). In Group DIR SOD enzyme activity was lower with respect to Group C and Group DIRD (p = 0.032, p = 0.013, respectively), (Table 3). The GST enzyme activity was significantly higher in Group DIR than the other three groups, however; CAT levels were similar among the groups (Table 3). Table 3: Oxidative state parameters in rat nephrotic tissue [Mean ± SD)] p**: Statistical significance was set at a p value < 0.05 for Kruskal-Wallis test *p < 0.05: When compared with Group DIR DISCUSSION In this study, we have reported the protective effect of dexmedetomidine in experimental hepatic and renal IRI model in the rat by investigating the MDA and SOD levels biochemically. Besides, hepatic histopathological findings also supported our report. Ischemic damage may occur with trauma, hemorrhagic shock, and some surgical interventions, mainly hepatic and renal resections. Reperfusion following ischemia results in even more injury than ischemia itself. IRI is an inflammatory response accompanied by free radical formation, leucocyte migration and activation, sinusoidal endothelial cellular damage, deteoriated microcirculation and coagulation and complement system activation.1 We also detected injury in hepatic and renal tissue caused by reperfusion following ischemia in liver. Experimental and clinical evidence indicates that OS is involved in both the pathogenesis and the complications of diabetes mellitus.25,26 Diabetes mellitus is a serious risk factor for the development of renal and cardiovascular disease. It is also related to fatty changes in the liver.27 Diabetes-related organ damage seems to be the result of multiple mechanisms. Diabetes has been associated with increased free radical reactions and oxidant tissue damage in STZ-induced diabetic rats and also in patients.26Oxidative stress has been implicated in the destruction of pancreatic β-cells28 and could largely contribute to the oxidant tissue damage associated with chronic hyperglycemia.29 A number of reports have shown that antioxidants can attenuate the complications of diabetes in patients30 and in experimental models.28,31 This study demonstrated that diabetes causes a tendency to increase the IRI. There is a lot of investigations related to the pharmacological agents or food supplements applied for decreasing OS and IRI. Antioxidant agents paly an important role in IRI by effecting antioxidant system or lessening the formation of ROS. It has been reported that anesthetic agents too, are effective in oxidative stress.1 During surgical interventions, it seems rational to get benefit from anesthetic agents in prevention of OS caused by IRI instead of using other agents. It has been declared that; dexmedetomidine; as an α-2 agonist with sedative, hypnotic properties; is important in prevention of renal, focal, cerebral, cardiac, testicular and tourniquet-induced IRI.13-18 On the other hand Bostankolu et al. concluded that dexmedetomidine did not have an additional protective role for tournique induced IRI during routine general anesthesia.32 In this study; we have shown that dexmedetomidine has a reducing effect in IRI in diabetic rats. Some biochemical tests and histopathological evaluations are applied for bringing up oxidative stress and IRI in the tissues. Reactive oxygen species (ROS) that appear with reperfusion injury damage cellular structures through the process of the lipid peroxidation of cellular membranes and yield toxic metabolites such as MDA.33 As an important intermidiate product in lipid peroxidation, MDA is used as a sensitive marker of IRI.34 ROS-induced tissue injury is triggered by various defense mechanisms.35 The first defence mechanisms include the antioxidant enzymes of SOD, CAT, and GPx. These endogenous antioxidants are the first lines of defence against oxidative stres and act by scavenging potentially damaging free radical moieties.36 There is a balance between ROS and the scavenging capacity of antioxidant enzymes.1-8 In this study, for evaluation of oxidative damage and antioxidant activity, MDS, SOD, GST and CAT levels were determined in liver and kidney tissues. MDA levels in hepatic and renal tissues were higher in Group DIR compared to Group C and Group DIRD. GST levels were higher in Group DIR compared to all the other three groups. When the groups were arranged from highest to lowest order, with respect to CAT levels, the order was; Group DIR, Group DIRD, Group DC and Group C. However, the difference was not significant. The acute phase reactant MDA, as a marker of OS, was found to be high in Group DIR and low in Group DIRD. This could be interpreted as the presence of protective effect of dexmedetomidine in IRI. IRI developing in splanchnic area causes injury also in the other organs.35 Leithead et al showed that clinically significant hepatic IRI demonstrates a strong relationship with peri-operative acute kidney injury.2 In our experimental research that showed correlation to that of research by Leithead et al. After hepatic IRI in diabetic rats renal OS marker MDA levels were significantly more in Group DIR than Group DIRD. In our study, we observed histopathological changes in the ischemic liver tissue and alterations in the level of MDA, SOD, GST and CAT levels which are OS markers. Histopathological changes of the liver tissues are hepatocyt degeneration, sinusoidal dilatation, nuclear picnosis, celluler necrosis, mononuclear cell infiltrationat paranchimal tissue. These histopathological injury scores were significantly lower in the Group DIRD than those in group DIR. LIMITATION Study limitation is there was no negative control group, as this type of surgical intervention is not possible in rats without anesthesia. CONCLUSION The enzymatic findings of our study together with the hepatic histopathology indicate that dexmedetomidine has a potential role to decrease ischemia-reperfusion injury. Conflict of interest and funding: The authors have not received any funding or benefits from industry or elsewhere to conduct this study. 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Abstract:

IntroductionThe debate about the responsibility of museums to respect Indigenous peoples’ rights (Kelly and Gordon; Butts) has caught our attention on the basis of our previous research experience with regard to the protection of the tangible and intangible heritage of the San (former hunter gatherers) in Southern Africa (Martin and Vermeylen; Vermeylen, Contextualising; Vermeylen, Life Force; Vermeylen et al.; Vermeylen, Land Rights). This paper contributes to the critical debate about curatorial practices and the recovery of Indigenous peoples’ cultural practices and explores how museums can be transformed into cultural centres that “decolonise” their objects while simultaneously providing social agency to marginalised groups such as the San. Indigenous MuseumTraditional methods of displaying Indigenous heritage are now regarded with deep suspicion and resentment by Indigenous peoples (Simpson). A number of related issues such as the appropriation, ownership and repatriation of culture together with the treatment of sensitive and sacred materials and the stereotyping of Indigenous peoples’ identity (Carter; Simpson) have been identified as the main problems in the debate about museum curatorship and Indigenous heritage. The poignant question remains whether the concept of a classical museum—in the sense of how it continues to classify, value and display non-Western artworks—will ever be able to provide agency to Indigenous peoples as long as “their lives are reduced to an abstract set of largely arbitrary material items displayed without much sense of meaning” (Stanley 3). Indeed, as Salvador has argued, no matter how much Indigenous peoples have been involved in the planning and implementation of an exhibition, some issues remain problematic. First, there is the problem of representation: who speaks for the group; who should make decisions and under what circ*mstances; when is it acceptable for “outsiders” to be involved? Furthermore, Salvador raises another area of contestation and that is the issue of intention. As we agree with Salvador, no matter how good the intention to include Indigenous peoples in the curatorial practices, the fact that Indigenous peoples may have a (political) perspective about the exhibition that differs from the ideological foundation of the museum enterprise, is, indeed, a challenge that must not be overlooked in the discussion of the inclusive museum. This relates to, arguably, one of the most important challenges in respect to the concept of an Indigenous museum: how to present the past and present without creating an essentialising “Other”? As Stanley summarises, the modernising agenda of the museum, including those museums that claim to be Indigenous museums, continues to be heavily embedded in the belief that traditional cultural beliefs, practices and material manifestations must be saved. In other words, exhibitions focusing on Indigenous peoples fail to show them as dynamic, living cultures (Simpson). This raises the issue that museums recreate the past (Sepúlveda dos Santos) while Indigenous peoples’ interests can be best described “in terms of contemporaneity” (Bolton qtd. in Stanley 7). According to Bolton, Indigenous peoples’ interest in museums can be best understood in terms of using these (historical) collections and institutions to address contemporary issues. Or, as Sepúlveda dos Santos argues, in order for museums to be a true place of memory—or indeed a true place of recovery—it is important that the museum makes the link between the past and contemporary issues or to use its objects in such a way that these objects emphasize “the persistence of lived experiences transmitted through generations” (29). Under pressure from Indigenous rights movements, the major aim of some museums is now reconciliation with Indigenous peoples which, ultimately, should result in the return of the cultural objects to the originators of these objects (Kelly and Gordon). Using the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act of 1990 (NAGPRA) as an illustration, we argue that the whole debate of returning or recovering Indigenous peoples’ cultural objects to the original source is still embedded in a discourse that emphasises the mummified aspect of these materials. As Harding argues, NAGPRA is provoking an image of “native Americans as mere passive recipients of their cultural identity, beholden to their ancestors and the museum community for the re-creation of their cultures” (137) when it defines cultural patrimony as objects having ongoing historical, traditional or cultural importance, central to the Native American group or culture itself. According to Harding (2005) NAGPRA’s dominating narrative focuses on the loss, alienation and cultural genocide of the objects as long as these are not returned to their originators. The recovery or the return of the objects to their “original” culture has been applauded as one of the most liberating and emancipatory events in recent years for Indigenous peoples. However, as we have argued elsewhere, the process of recovery needs to do more than just smother the object in its past; recovery can only happen when heritage or tradition is connected to the experience of everyday life. One way of achieving this is to move away from the objectification of Indigenous peoples’ cultures. ObjectificationIn our exploratory enquiry about new museum practices our attention was drawn to a recent debate about ownership and personhood within the context of museology (Busse; Baker; Herle; Bell; Geismar). Busse, in particular, makes the point that in order to reformulate curatorial practices it is important to redefine the concept and meaning of objects. While the above authors do not question the importance of the objects, they all argue that the real importance does not lie in the objects themselves but in the way these objects embody the physical manifestation of social relations. The whole idea that objects matter because they have agency and efficacy, and as such become a kind of person, draws upon recent anthropological theorising by Gell and Strathern. Furthermore, we have not only been inspired by Gell’s and Strathern’s approaches that suggests that objects are social persons, we have also been influenced by Appadurai’s and Kopytoff’s defining of objects as biographical agents and therefore valued because of the associations they have acquired throughout time. We argue that by framing objects in a social network throughout its lifecycle we can avoid the recurrent pitfalls of essentialising objects in terms of their “primitive” or “traditional” (aesthetic) qualities and mystifying the identity of Indigenous peoples as “noble savages.” Focusing more on the social network that surrounds a particular object opens up new avenues of enquiry as to how, and to what extent, museums can become more inclusive vis-à-vis Indigenous peoples. It allows moving beyond the current discourse that approaches the history of the (ethnographic) museum from only one dominant perspective. By tracing an artwork throughout its lifecycle a new metaphor can be discovered; one that shows that Indigenous peoples have not always been victims, but maybe more importantly it allows us to show a more complex narrative of the object itself. It gives us the space to counterweight some of the discourses that have steeped Indigenous artworks in a “postcolonial” framework of sacredness and mythical meaning. This is not to argue that it is not important to be reminded of the dangers of appropriating other cultures’ heritage, but we would argue that it is equally important to show that approaching a story from a one-sided perspective will create a dualism (Bush) and reducing the differences between different cultures to a dualistic opposition fails to recognise the fundamental areas of agency (Morphy). In order for museums to enliven and engage with objects, they must become institutions that emphasise a relational approach towards displaying and curating objects. In the next part of this paper we will explore to what extent an online museum could progressively facilitate the process of providing agency to the social relations that link objects, persons, environments and memories. As Solanilla argues, what has been described as cybermuseology may further transform the museum landscape and provide an opportunity to challenge some of the problems identified above (e.g. essentialising practices). Or to quote the museologist Langlais: “The communication and interaction possibilities offered by the Web to layer information and to allow exploration of multiple meanings are only starting to be exploited. In this context, cybermuseology is known as a practice that is knowledge-driven rather than object-driven, and its main goal is to disseminate knowledge using the interaction possibilities of Information Communication Technologies” (Langlais qtd. in Solanilla 108). One thing which shows promise and merits further exploration is the idea of transforming the act of exhibiting ethnographic objects accompanied by texts and graphics into an act of cyber discourse that allows Indigenous peoples through their own voices and gestures to involve us in their own history. This is particularly the case since Indigenous peoples are using technologies, such as the Internet, as a new medium through which they can recuperate their histories, land rights, knowledge and cultural heritage (Zimmerman et al.). As such, new technology has played a significant role in the contestation and formation of Indigenous peoples’ current identity by creating new social and political spaces through visual and narrative cultural praxis (Ginsburg).Online MuseumsIt has been acknowledged for some time that a presence on the Web might mitigate the effects of what has been described as the “unassailable voice” in the recovery process undertaken by museums (Walsh 77). However, a museum’s online engagement with an Indigenous culture may have significance beyond undercutting the univocal authority of a museum. In the case of the South African National Gallery it was charged with challenging the extent to which it represents entrenched but unacceptable political ideologies. Online museums may provide opportunities in the conservation and dissemination of “life stories” that give an account of an Indigenous culture as it is experienced (Solanilla 105). We argue that in engaging with Indigenous cultural heritage a distinction needs to be drawn between data and the cognitive capacity to learn, “which enables us to extrapolate and learn new knowledge” (Langlois 74). The problem is that access to data about an Indigenous culture does not necessarily lead to an understanding of its knowledge. It has been argued that cybermuseology loses the essential interpersonal element that needs to be present if intangible heritage is understood as “the process of making sense that is generally transmitted orally and through face-to-face experience” (Langlois 78). We agree that the online museum does not enable a reality to be reproduced (Langlois 78).This does not mean that cybermuseology should be dismissed. Instead it provides the opportunity to construct a valuable, but completely new, experience of cultural knowledge (Langlois 78). The technology employed in cybermuseology provides the means by which control over meaning may, at least to some extent, be dispersed (Langlois 78). In this way online museums provide the opportunity for Indigenous peoples to challenge being subjected to manipulation by one authoritative museological voice. One of the ways this may be achieved is through interactivity by enabling the use of social tagging and folksonomy (Solanilla 110; Trant 2). In these processes keywords (tags) are supplied and shared by visitors as a means of accessing museum content. These tags in turn give rise to a classification system (folksonomy). In the context of an online museum engaging with an Indigenous culture we have reservations about the undifferentiated interactivity on the part of all visitors. This issue may be investigated further by examining how interactivity relates to communication. Arguably, an online museum is engaged in communicating Indigenous cultural heritage because it helps to keep it alive and pass it on to others (Langlois 77). However, enabling all visitors to structure online access to that culture may be detrimental to the communication of knowledge that might otherwise occur. The narratives by which Indigenous cultures, rather than visitors, order access to information about their cultures may lead to the communication of important knowledge. An illustration of the potential of this approach is the work Sharon Daniel has been involved with, which enables communities to “produce knowledge and interpret their own experience using media and information technologies” (Daniel, Palabras) partly by means of generating folksonomies. One way in which such issues may be engaged with in the context of online museums is through the argument that database and narrative in such new media objects are opposed to each other (Manovich, New Media 225). A new media work such as an online museum may be understood to be comprised of a database and an interface to that database. A visitor to an online museum may only move through the content of the database by following those paths that have been enabled by those who created the museum (Manovich, New Media 227). In short it is by means of the interface provided to the viewer that the content of the database is structured into a narrative (Manovich, New Media: 226). It is possible to understand online museums as constructions in which narrative and database aspects are emphasized to varying degrees for users. There are a variety of museum projects in which the importance of the interface in creating a narrative interface has been acknowledged. Goldblum et al. describe three examples of websites in which interfaces may be understood as, and explicitly designed for, carrying meaning as well as enabling interactivity: Life after the Holocaust; Ripples of Genocide; and Yearbook 2006.As with these examples, we suggest that it is important there be an explicit engagement with the significance of interface(s) for online museums about Indigenous peoples. The means by which visitors access content is important not only for the way in which visitors interact with material, but also as to what is communicated about, culture. It has been suggested that the curator’s role should be moved away from expertly representing knowledge toward that of assisting people outside the museum to make “authored statements” within it (Bennett 11). In this regard it seems to us that involvement of Indigenous peoples with the construction of the interface(s) to online museums is of considerable significance. Pieterse suggests that ethnographic museums should be guided by a process of self-representation by the “others” portrayed (Pieterse 133). Moreover it should not be forgotten that, because of the separation of content and interface, it is possible to have access to a database of material through more than one interface (Manovich, New Media 226-7). Online museums provide a means by which the artificial hom*ogenization of Indigenous peoples may be challenged.We regard an important potential benefit of an online museum as the replacement of accessing material through the “unassailable voice” with the multiplicity of Indigenous voices. A number of ways to do this are suggested by a variety of new media artworks, including those that employ a database to rearrange information to reveal underlying cultural positions (Paul 100). Paul discusses the work of, amongst others, George Legrady. She describes how it engages with the archive and database as sites that record culture (104-6). Paul specifically discusses Legrady’s work Slippery Traces. This involved viewers navigating through more than 240 postcards. Viewers of work were invited to “first chose one of three quotes appearing on the screen, each of which embodies a different perspective—anthropological, colonialist, or media theory—and thus provides an interpretive angle for the experience of the projects” (104-5). In the same way visitors to an online museum could be provided with a choice of possible Indigenous voices by which its collection might be experienced. We are specifically interested in the implications that such approaches have for the way in which online museums could engage with film. Inspired by Basu’s work on reframing ethnographic film, we see the online museum as providing the possibility of a platform to experiment with new media art in order to expose the meta-narrative(s) about the politics of film making. As Basu argues, in order to provoke a feeling of involvement with the viewer, it is important that the viewer becomes aware “of the plurality of alternative readings/navigations that they might have made” (105). As Weinbren has observed, where a fixed narrative pathway has been constructed by a film, digital technology provides a particularly effective means to challenge it. It would be possible to reveal the way in which dominant political interests regarding Indigenous cultures have been asserted, such as for example in the popular film The Gods Must Be Crazy. New media art once again provides some interesting examples of the way ideology, that might otherwise remain unclear, may be exposed. Paul describes the example of Jennifer and Kevin McCoy’s project How I learned. The work restructures a television series Kung Fu by employing “categories such as ‘how I learned about blocking punches,’ ‘how I learned about exploiting workers,’ or ‘how I learned to love the land’” (Paul 103) to reveal in greater clarity, than otherwise might be possible, the cultural stereotypes used in the visual narratives of the program (Paul 102-4). We suggest that such examples suggest the ways in which online museums could work to reveal and explore the existence not only of meta-narratives expressed by museums as a whole, but also the means by which they are realised within existing items held in museum collections.ConclusionWe argue that the agency for such reflective moments between the San, who have been repeatedly misrepresented or underrepresented in exhibitions and films, and multiple audiences, may be enabled through the generation of multiple narratives within online museums. 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Abstract:

Introduction Cookbooks are an exceptional written record of what is largely an oral tradition. They have been described as “magician’s hats” due to their ability to reveal much more than they seem to contain (Wheaton, “Finding”). The first book printed in Germany was the Guttenberg Bible in 1456 but, by 1490, printing was introduced into almost every European country (Tierney). The spread of literacy between 1500 and 1800, and the rise in silent reading, helped to create a new private sphere into which the individual could retreat, seeking refuge from the community (Chartier). This new technology had its effects in the world of cookery as in so many spheres of culture (Mennell, All Manners). Trubek notes that cookbooks are the texts most often used by culinary historians, since they usually contain all the requisite materials for analysing a cuisine: ingredients, method, technique, and presentation. Printed cookbooks, beginning in the early modern period, provide culinary historians with sources of evidence of the culinary past. Historians have argued that social differences can be expressed by the way and type of food we consume. Cookbooks are now widely accepted as valid socio-cultural and historic documents (Folch, Sherman), and indeed the link between literacy levels and the protestant tradition has been expressed through the study of Danish cookbooks (Gold). From Apicius, Taillevent, La Varenne, and Menon to Bradley, Smith, Raffald, Acton, and Beeton, how can both manuscript and printed cookbooks be analysed as historic documents? What is the difference between a manuscript and a printed cookbook? Barbara Ketchum Wheaton, who has been studying cookbooks for over half a century and is honorary curator of the culinary collection in Harvard’s Schlesinger Library, has developed a methodology to read historic cookbooks using a structured approach. For a number of years she has been giving seminars to scholars from multidisciplinary fields on how to read historic cookbooks. This paper draws on the author’s experiences attending Wheaton’s seminar in Harvard, and on supervising the use of this methodology at both Masters and Doctoral level (Cashman; Mac Con Iomaire, and Cashman). Manuscripts versus Printed Cookbooks A fundamental difference exists between manuscript and printed cookbooks in their relationship with the public and private domain. Manuscript cookbooks are by their very essence intimate, relatively unedited and written with an eye to private circulation. Culinary manuscripts follow the diurnal and annual tasks of the household. They contain recipes for cures and restoratives, recipes for cleansing products for the house and the body, as well as the expected recipes for cooking and preserving all manners of food. Whether manuscript or printed cookbook, the recipes contained within often act as a reminder of how laborious the production of food could be in the pre-industrialised world (White). Printed cookbooks draw oxygen from the very fact of being public. They assume a “literate population with sufficient discretionary income to invest in texts that commodify knowledge” (Folch). This process of commoditisation brings knowledge from the private to the public sphere. There exists a subset of cookbooks that straddle this divide, for example, Mrs. Rundell’s A New System of Domestic Cookery (1806), which brought to the public domain her distillation of a lifetime of domestic experience. Originally intended for her daughters alone, Rundell’s book was reprinted regularly during the nineteenth century with the last edition printed in 1893, when Mrs. Beeton had been enormously popular for over thirty years (Mac Con Iomaire, and Cashman). Barbara Ketchum Wheaton’s Structured Approach Cookbooks can be rewarding, surprising and illuminating when read carefully with due effort in understanding them as cultural artefacts. However, Wheaton notes that: “One may read a single old cookbook and find it immensely entertaining. One may read two and begin to find intriguing similarities and differences. When the third cookbook is read, one’s mind begins to blur, and one begins to sense the need for some sort of method in approaching these documents” (“Finding”). Following decades of studying cookbooks from both sides of the Atlantic and writing a seminal text on the French at table from 1300-1789 (Wheaton, Savouring the Past), this combined experience negotiating cookbooks as historical documents was codified, and a structured approach gradually articulated and shared within a week long seminar format. In studying any cookbook, regardless of era or country of origin, the text is broken down into five different groupings, to wit: ingredients; equipment or facilities; the meal; the book as a whole; and, finally, the worldview. A particular strength of Wheaton’s seminars is the multidisciplinary nature of the approaches of students who attend, which throws the study of cookbooks open to wide ranging techniques. Students with a purely scientific training unearth interesting patterns by developing databases of the frequency of ingredients or techniques, and cross referencing them with other books from similar or different timelines or geographical regions. Patterns are displayed in graphs or charts. Linguists offer their own unique lens to study cookbooks, whereas anthropologists and historians ask what these objects can tell us about how our ancestors lived and drew meaning from life. This process is continuously refined, and each grouping is discussed below. Ingredients The geographic origins of the ingredients are of interest, as is the seasonality and the cost of the foodstuffs within the scope of each cookbook, as well as the sensory quality both separately and combined within different recipes. In the medieval period, the use of spices and large joints of butchers meat and game were symbols of wealth and status. However, when the discovery of sea routes to the New World and to the Far East made spices more available and affordable to the middle classes, the upper classes spurned them. Evidence from culinary manuscripts in Georgian Ireland, for example, suggests that galangal was more easily available in Dublin during the eighteenth century than in the mid-twentieth century. A new aesthetic, articulated by La Varenne in his Le Cuisinier Francois (1651), heralded that food should taste of itself, and so exotic ingredients such as cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger were replaced by the local bouquet garni, and stocks and sauces became the foundations of French haute cuisine (Mac Con Iomaire). Some combinations of flavours and ingredients were based on humoral physiology, a long held belief system based on the writings of Hippocrates and Galen, now discredited by modern scientific understanding. The four humors are blood, yellow bile, black bile, and phlegm. It was believed that each of these humors would wax and wane in the body, depending on diet and activity. Galen (131-201 AD) believed that warm food produced yellow bile and that cold food produced phlegm. It is difficult to fathom some combinations of ingredients or the manner of service without comprehending the contemporary context within they were consumeSome ingredients found in Roman cookbooks, such as “garum” or “silphium” are no longer available. It is suggested that the nearest substitute for garum also known as “liquamen”—a fermented fish sauce—would be Naam Plaa, or Thai fish sauce (Grainger). Ingredients such as tea and white bread, moved from the prerogative of the wealthy over time to become the staple of the urban poor. These ingredients, therefore, symbolise radically differing contexts during the seventeenth century than in the early twentieth century. Indeed, there are other ingredients such as hominy (dried maize kernel treated with alkali) or grahams (crackers made from graham flour) found in American cookbooks that require translation to the unacquainted non-American reader. There has been a growing number of food encyclopaedias published in recent years that assist scholars in identifying such commodities (Smith, Katz, Davidson). The Cook’s Workplace, Techniques, and Equipment It is important to be aware of the type of kitchen equipment used, the management of heat and cold within the kitchen, and also the gradual spread of the industrial revolution into the domestic sphere. Visits to historic castles such as Hampton Court Palace where nowadays archaeologists re-enact life below stairs in Tudor times give a glimpse as to how difficult and labour intensive food production was. Meat was spit-roasted in front of huge fires by spit boys. Forcemeats and purees were manually pulped using mortar and pestles. Various technological developments including spit-dogs, and mechanised pulleys, replaced the spit boys, the most up to date being the mechanised rotisserie. The technological advancements of two hundred years can be seen in the Royal Pavilion in Brighton where Marie-Antoinin Carême worked for the Prince Regent in 1816 (Brighton Pavilion), but despite the gleaming copper pans and high ceilings for ventilation, the work was still back breaking. Carême died aged forty-nine, “burnt out by the flame of his genius and the fumes of his ovens” (Ackerman 90). Mennell points out that his fame outlived him, resting on his books: Le Pâtissier Royal Parisien (1815); Le Pâtissier Pittoresque (1815); Le Maître d’Hôtel Français (1822); Le Cuisinier Parisien (1828); and, finally, L’Art de la Cuisine Française au Dix-Neuvième Siècle (1833–5), which was finished posthumously by his student Pluméry (All Manners). Mennell suggests that these books embody the first paradigm of professional French cuisine (in Kuhn’s terminology), pointing out that “no previous work had so comprehensively codified the field nor established its dominance as a point of reference for the whole profession in the way that Carême did” (All Manners 149). The most dramatic technological changes came after the industrial revolution. Although there were built up ovens available in bakeries and in large Norman households, the period of general acceptance of new cooking equipment that enclosed fire (such as the Aga stove) is from c.1860 to 1910, with gas ovens following in c.1910 to the 1920s) and Electricity from c.1930. New food processing techniques dates are as follows: canning (1860s), cooling and freezing (1880s), freeze drying (1950s), and motorised delivery vans with cooking (1920s–1950s) (den Hartog). It must also be noted that the supply of fresh food, and fish particularly, radically improved following the birth, and expansion of, the railways. To understand the context of the cookbook, one needs to be aware of the limits of the technology available to the users of those cookbooks. For many lower to middle class families during the twentieth century, the first cookbook they would possess came with their gas or electrical oven. Meals One can follow cooked dishes from the kitchen to the eating place, observing food presentation, carving, sequencing, and serving of the meal and table etiquette. Meal times and structure changed over time. During the Middle Ages, people usually ate two meals a day: a substantial dinner around noon and a light supper in the evening (Adamson). Some of the most important factors to consider are the manner in which meals were served: either à la française or à la russe. One of the main changes that occurred during the nineteenth century was the slow but gradual transfer from service à la française to service à la russe. From medieval times to the middle of the nineteenth century the structure of a formal meal was not by “courses”—as the term is now understood—but by “services”. Each service could comprise of a choice of dishes—both sweet and savoury—from which each guest could select what appealed to him or her most (Davidson). The philosophy behind this form of service was the forementioned humoral physiology— where each diner chose food based on the four humours of blood, yellow bile, black bile, or phlegm. Also known as le grand couvert, the à la française method made it impossible for the diners to eat anything that was beyond arm’s length (Blake, and Crewe). Smooth service, however, was the key to an effective à la russe dinner since servants controlled the flow of food (Eatwell). The taste and temperature of food took centre stage with the à la russe dinner as each course came in sequence. Many historic cookbooks offer table plans illustrating the suggested arrangement of dishes on a table for the à la française style of service. Many of these dishes might be re-used in later meals, and some dishes such as hashes and rissoles often utilised left over components of previous meals. There is a whole genre of cookbooks informing the middle class cooks how to be frugal and also how to emulate haute cuisine using cheaper or ersatz ingredients. The number dining and the manner in which they dined also changed dramatically over time. From medieval to Tudor times, there might be hundreds dining in large banqueting halls. By the Elizabethan age, a small intimate room where master and family dined alone replaced the old dining hall where master, servants, guests, and travellers had previously dined together (Spencer). Dining tables remained portable until the 1780s when tables with removable leaves were devised. By this time, the bread trencher had been replaced by one made of wood, or plate of pewter or precious metal in wealthier houses. Hosts began providing knives and spoons for their guests by the seventeenth century, with forks also appearing but not fully accepted until the eighteenth century (Mason). These silver utensils were usually marked with the owner’s initials to prevent their theft (Flandrin). Cookbooks as Objects and the World of Publishing A thorough examination of the manuscript or printed cookbook can reveal their physical qualities, including indications of post-publication history, the recipes and other matter in them, as well as the language, organization, and other individual qualities. What can the quality of the paper tell us about the book? Is there a frontispiece? Is the book dedicated to an employer or a patron? Does the author note previous employment history in the introduction? In his Court Cookery, Robert Smith, for example, not only mentions a number of his previous employers, but also outlines that he was eight years working with Patrick Lamb in the Court of King William, before revealing that several dishes published in Lamb’s Royal Cookery (1710) “were never made or practis’d (sic) by him and others are extreme defective and imperfect and made up of dishes unknown to him; and several of them more calculated at the purses than the Gôut of the guests”. Both Lamb and Smith worked for the English monarchy, nobility, and gentry, but produced French cuisine. Not all Britons were enamoured with France, however, with, for example Hannah Glasse asserting “if gentlemen will have French cooks, they must pay for French tricks” (4), and “So much is the blind folly of this age, that they would rather be imposed on by a French Booby, than give encouragement to an good English cook” (ctd. in Trubek 60). Spencer contextualises Glasse’s culinary Francophobia, explaining that whilst she was writing the book, the Jacobite army were only a few days march from London, threatening to cut short the Hanoverian lineage. However, Lehmann points out that whilst Glasse was overtly hostile to French cuisine, she simultaneously plagiarised its receipts. Based on this trickling down of French influences, Mennell argues that “there is really no such thing as a pure-bred English cookery book” (All Manners 98), but that within the assimilation and simplification, a recognisable English style was discernable. Mennell also asserts that Glasse and her fellow women writers had an enormous role in the social history of cooking despite their lack of technical originality (“Plagiarism”). It is also important to consider the place of cookbooks within the history of publishing. Albala provides an overview of the immense outpouring of dietary literature from the printing presses from the 1470s. He divides the Renaissance into three periods: Period I Courtly Dietaries (1470–1530)—targeted at the courtiers with advice to those attending banquets with many courses and lots of wine; Period II The Galenic Revival (1530–1570)—with a deeper appreciation, and sometimes adulation, of Galen, and when scholarship took centre stage over practical use. Finally Period III The Breakdown of Orthodoxy (1570–1650)—when, due to the ambiguities and disagreements within and between authoritative texts, authors were freer to pick the ideas that best suited their own. Nutrition guides were consistent bestsellers, and ranged from small handbooks written in the vernacular for lay audiences, to massive Latin tomes intended for practicing physicians. Albala adds that “anyone with an interest in food appears to have felt qualified to pen his own nutritional guide” (1). Would we have heard about Mrs. Beeton if her husband had not been a publisher? How could a twenty-five year old amass such a wealth of experience in household management? What role has plagiarism played in the history of cookbooks? It is interesting to note that a well worn copy of her book (Beeton) was found in the studio of Francis Bacon and it is suggested that he drew inspiration for a number of his paintings from the colour plates of animal carcasses and butcher’s meat (Dawson). Analysing the post-publication usage of cookbooks is valuable to see the most popular recipes, the annotations left by the owner(s) or user(s), and also if any letters, handwritten recipes, or newspaper clippings are stored within the leaves of the cookbook. The Reader, the Cook, the Eater The physical and inner lives and needs and skills of the individuals who used cookbooks and who ate their meals merit consideration. Books by their nature imply literacy. Who is the book’s audience? Is it the cook or is it the lady of the house who will dictate instructions to the cook? Numeracy and measurement is also important. Where clocks or pocket watches were not widely available, authors such as seventeenth century recipe writer Sir Kenelm Digby would time his cooking by the recitation of the Lord’s Prayer. Literacy amongst protestant women to enable them to read the Bible, also enabled them to read cookbooks (Gold). How did the reader or eater’s religion affect the food practices? Were there fast days? Were there substitute foods for fast days? What about special occasions? Do historic cookbooks only tell us about the food of the middle and upper classes? It is widely accepted today that certain cookbook authors appeal to confident cooks, while others appeal to competent cooks, and others still to more cautious cooks (Bilton). This has always been the case, as has the differentiation between the cookbook aimed at the professional cook rather than the amateur. Historically, male cookbook authors such as Patrick Lamb (1650–1709) and Robert Smith targeted the professional cook market and the nobility and gentry, whereas female authors such as Eliza Acton (1799–1859) and Isabella Beeton (1836–1865) often targeted the middle class market that aspired to emulate their superiors’ fashions in food and dining. How about Tavern or Restaurant cooks? When did they start to put pen to paper, and did what they wrote reflect the food they produced in public eateries? Conclusions This paper has offered an overview of Barbara Ketchum Wheaton’s methodology for reading historic cookbooks using a structured approach. It has highlighted some of the questions scholars and researchers might ask when faced with an old cookbook, regardless of era or geographical location. By systematically examining the book under the headings of ingredients; the cook’s workplace, techniques and equipment; the meals; cookbooks as objects and the world of publishing; and reader, cook and eater, the scholar can perform magic and extract much more from the cookbook than seems to be there on first appearance. References Ackerman, Roy. The Chef's Apprentice. London: Headline, 1988. Adamson, Melitta Weiss. Food in Medieval Times. Westport, Connecticut: Greenwood P, 2004. Albala, Ken. Eating Right in the Renaissance. Ed. Darra Goldstein. Berkeley: U of California P, 2002. Beeton, Isabella. Beeton's Book of Household Management. London: S. Beeton, 1861. 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Dawson, Barbara. “Francis Bacon and the Art of Food.” The Irish Times 6 April 2013. den Hartog, Adel P. “Technological Innovations and Eating out as a Mass Phenomenon in Europe: A Preamble.” Eating out in Europe: Picnics, Gourmet Dining and Snacks since the Late Eighteenth Century. Eds. Mark Jacobs and Peter Scholliers. Oxford: Berg, 2003. 263–80. Eatwell, Ann. “Á La Française to À La Russe, 1680-1930.” Elegant Eating: Four Hundred Years of Dining in Style. Eds. Philippa Glanville and Hilary Young. London: V&A, 2002. 48–52. Flandrin, Jean-Louis. “Distinction through Taste.” Trans. Arthur Goldhammer. A History of Private Lives: Volume III : Passions of the Renaissance. Ed. Roger Chartier. Cambridge, Massachusetts: Belknap P of Harvard U, 1989. 265–307. Folch, Christine. “Fine Dining: Race in Pre-revolution Cuban Cookbooks.” Latin American Research Review 43.2 (2008): 205–23. Glasse, Hannah. 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Abstract:

The Big Pineapple, Big Banana, the Big Potato , Australia positively groans under the weight of big things littered along the highway like jokes awaiting their punch-lines. These commercial road-side enterprises are a constant source of bemusem*nt among Australians and this paper seeks to explore the attraction of the gargantuan and why Australians consider big things to be so funny. Discovering that big things not only give form to national icons but also celebrate the nation's tendency to larrikinism and the associated sardonic, ironic and anti-establishment humour, we are left to consider the role big things may play in the Australian national psyche and how their function as low art turns their collectivity into some strange, impulsive attempt at establishing a system of totems that comes to terms with this big land and its contested ownership. Historically big things like the Colossus of Rhodes, the Pyramids or the Great Wall of China have been physical manifestations of empire and dominion. No laughing matter. But in the United States from the 1920s, particularly in Southern California, we begin to see a profusion of "roadside vernacular architecture" including a big coffee percolator, a big pig, a big corn ear, a big teapot, a big Spanish dancer, a big duck, a big fish and many big hot dogs and big chilli bowls (Heimann and Georges). "Imaginana" is another way to conceptualise these strange forms of cultural production that replicate familiar, safe everyday items (Amdur 12). Early big things, particularly in the United States, had a clearly pragmatic function: to lure car-bound consumers off the highways and into local commercial enterprises with simple, one-to-one signification bringing function to form and high art to low purposes (Gebhard 14). The aim of these big things was to shock, startle and amuse the passing motorist and they took on a humourous edge due to the incongruity of scale and the surreal surprise of reality warping out of all proportion. While big things have a commercial purpose they achieve that purpose because they can be read playfully, always reminding us of the paradox they entail: they act dualistically as both the media and the message, both the referent and the real (Barcan 38). Reading big things as jokes in Freudian terms, we see how they may be eruptions of the unconscious into the mundane (Krahn 158). The first big thing in Australia was the Big Banana, built in Coffs Harbour by an American entomologist, John Landi (Negus). From that time on Australia has had a quirky relationship with big things. The banana is innately funny. The bent phallus, the unique shape, the skin as the standard slapstick cue to pratfall; everything about the banana is an invitation to laugh. Soon the banana was emulated by other funny produce such as the pineapple, the prawn and the lobster and within a decade monstrous agricultural products proliferated beside Australian highways regardless of their innate humour. They were joined by a variety of iconic figures, usually with an obvious connection such as the Big Penguin at the town of Penguin. Big things reinforce notions of national and regional identity: on the national level Australia is portrayed as a land of plenty, a fact emphasized by the sheer vastness of these creations; regionally, these totems function as identity markers and place makers (Barcan 31). Many big things were constructed by migrants and thus can be interpreted as optimistic acts of home making in the vast emptiness of the continent (Barcan 36). There is concern that big things obscure, or even obliterate, the history of regions and the whole continent: the incarcerations, land-grabbing, labour conflicts, corruption and failure. Instead it could be argued that big thing function to both signpost white history and subvert it at the same time: the Big Ned Kelly calling for revolution, the big goldminer looking ever expectant and ever disappointed, the Big Captain Cook in Cairns giving what appears to be a Nazi salute, all point to a larrikin refusal to take the brief and minor white history too seriously. The Australian larrikin sense of humour is mischievous, depreciatory and anti-authoritarian. This sense of humour arises from certain characteristics of the Australian "legend" identified by Ward such as scepticism, egalitarianism and derision towards affectation that are evident in larrikins' confrontations with authority, elaborate practical jokes on each other and the community at large and a "propensity for vulgarising the arts" (Reekie 97). This larrikinism is evident in the way dangerous nuisances (the big crocodile, the big red back spider) and mundane objects (the big jam tin, the big stubby holder, the big mower) are given the same treatment as national icons. There is also the variability of effort and attention to detail, where Aussie "ingenuity" and bush carpentry have been used to turn a good idea into reality in the shortest possible time to produce a very impressionist big koala or just the blob of concrete that is the big strawberry. Ignatius Jones explains: "get your local surfboard maker to cast you a giant prawn in fibreglass and you end up with the cicada that ate Yamba" (Negus). The early documentation of Australian big things was also carried out in a larrikin spirit (Amdur) including the claim that big things are part of an alien conspiracy to make us feel small (Stockwell). Every big thing requires a visionary, a postmodern artist with the passion and the obsession to realise their vision. It is a form of low art, a form of trash culture. But to many who do not frequent galleries and museums, low art is their available form of art and thus becomes their actual art. City planners and the upper middle class tend to denigrate these structures so at odds with their images of beautiful cities, so blatantly bastions of commercialism and so big that they run the risk of obscuring and obliterating real art (Gerbhard 25). Big things are criticised as ugly, kitsch, tacky and giving a wrong impression of a town. There are further concerns that big things allow the tourist to learn without knowing by presenting only one side of the story (Cross 51) and that they make observers minuscule in their presence, dominating the landscape and the attention of tourists (Krahn 165). But looking beyond the aesthetics of the individual instance it becomes apparent that big things also function as a network (Barcan 32), inviting the tourist along the highway of "the arrested fairground (in the) oxymoron of movement" (Krahn 157), offering the hyperreal adventure of collecting the experience, and small mementos, of more big things (Eco 1986). Big things are carnival, inverting social rules, promising some weird utopia (Krahn 171). As a collectivity, the larger psycho-political and metaphysical roles of big things become apparent. For Australia, the crucial question big things raise is the nature of our relationship with the land. Most of white Australia, huddled in cities on the seaboard, has a fear of the empty space at the heart of the continent. Big things are an attempt to assert that the settlers can match the dimensions of the land as, community by community, we write ourselves upon the land. The problem that big things highlight rather than obscure, the problem that can never be sublimated, that constantly erupts from the collective unconscious is that the ownership of the land remains contested, sometimes in the courts, sometimes in the streets, but most importantly in the hearts and dreams of the whole Australian people. All this land once had its own indigenous stories and big things may be seen as a pathetic attempt to replace, re-define and retell those stories by the interlopers now living on the land. "...Big things work allegorically, effacing, most notably, Aboriginal definitions of regional, tribal, spiritual, linguistic or other space" (Barcan 37). There is a sense in which big things are white trash barely obscuring black deaths (Nyoongah 12-14). But like a student's job-work over an old master's self portrait, big things invite us to peek through to the real totems of this land, totems enshrined in the creation myths of the indigenous dreaming. This is big things' contribution to the reconciliation process, to remind us of the fragile hold of white Australia on the land and to demand respect for the stories big things seek to displace. And that is the real big thing for white Australia in the reconciliation process, to accept these stories as our own so the land owns us. This is a much bigger leap than just saying sorry but in some strange way it has already commenced in the massive, mega-fauna that even now are rising from the land like the harbingers of a new dreamtime. A number of authors complain that, intentionally or otherwise, big things exclude indigenous flora and fauna and suggest that this points to a denial of history (Amdur 13, Barcan 36). But in recent years there has been a flood of big indigenous icons, many owned by indigenous corporations: big koalas, big kangaroos, big crocodiles, big bunyips and big barramundi. There is still the potential for indigenous artists to turn the joke around by creating big ancestral beings including rainbow serpents and the like. As Krahn (163) says: "I fear there must have been a Big Aboriginal Elder somewhere, gazing wistfully from the edge of town. But why a chicken?" Works Cited Amdur, Mark. It Really Is A Big Country . Sydney: Angus & Robertson, 1981. Barcan, Ruth. "Big Things: Consumer Totemism and Serial Monumentality." Linq 23.2 (1996): 31-39. Cane Toad Collective. "Big Things." Cane Toad Times 1 1983: 18-23. Eco, Umberto. Travels in Hyperreality. San Diego: Harcourt Brace, 1986. Gebhard, David. "Introduction." California Crazy: Roadside Vernacular Architecture . Eds. Jim Heimann and Rip Georges. San Francisco: Chronicle, 1985. 11-25. Heimann, Jim and Rip Georges. California Crazy: Roadside Vernacular Architecture . San Francisco: Chronicle, 1985. Krahn, Uli "The Arrested Fairground, or, Big Things as Oxymoron of Movement." Antithesis 13 (2002): 157-176. Negus, George, "Big Things", New Dimensions (In Time) . 21 July 2003. 26 September 2003 < http://www.abc.net.au/dimensions/dimensions_in_time/Transcripts/2003_default.htm >. Nyoongah, Janine Little. "'Unsinkable' Big Things: Spectacle, Race, and Class through Elvis, Titanic, O.J. and Sumo." Overland 148 (1997): 12-15. Reekie, Gail. "Nineteenth-Century Urbanization." Australian Studies: A Survey. Ed. James Walter. Melbourne: Oxford University Press, 1989. Stockwell, Stephen. "Cairns Collossi." Cane Toad Times 2 1984: 21. Ward, Russel. The Australian Legend . Melbourne: Oxford University Press, 1989. Links http://members.ozemail.com.au/~arundell/bigthing.htm http://www.alphalink.com.au/~richardb/page4.htm http://www.general.uwa.edu.au/u/rpinna/big/big_things_intro.html http://www.bigthings.com.au/ http://www.alphalink.com.au/~richardb/page4.htm Citation reference for this article MLA Style Stockwell, Stephen & Carlisle, Bethany. "Big Things" M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture <http://www.media-culture.org.au/0311/6-stockwell-carlisle-big-things.php>. APA Style Stockwell, S. & Carlisle, B. (2003, Nov 10). Big Things. M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture, 6, <http://www.media-culture.org.au/0311/6-stockwell-carlisle-big-things.php>

Abstract:

There is, in our sense of place, little cognisance of what lies underground. Yet our sense of place, instinctive, unconscious, primeval, has its own underground: the secret spaces which mirror our insides; the world beneath the skin. Our roots lie beneath the ground, with the minerals and the dead. (Hughes 83) The-Home-and-Away-Game Imagine the earth-grounded, “diagrammatological” trajectory of a footballer who as one member of a team is psyching himself up before the start of a game. The siren blasts its trumpet call. The footballer bursts out of the pavilion (where this psyching up has taken place) to engage in the opening bounce or kick of the game. And then: running, leaping, limping after injury, marking, sliding, kicking, and possibly even passing out from concussion. Finally, the elation accompanying the final siren, after which hugs, handshakes and raised fists conclude the actual match on the football oval. This exit from the pavilion, the course the player takes during the game itself, and return to the pavilion, forms a combination of stasis and movement, and a return to exhausted stasis again, that every player engages with regardless of the game code. Examined from a “diagrammatological” perspective, a perspective Rowan Wilken (following in the path of Gilles Deleuze and W. J. T. Mitchell) understands as “a generative process: a ‘metaphor’ or way of thinking — diagrammatic, diagrammatological thinking — which in turn, is linked to poetic thinking” (48), this footballer’s scenario arises out of an aerial perspective that depicts the actual spatial trajectory the player takes during the course of a game. It is a diagram that is digitally encoded via a sensor on the footballer’s body, and being an electronically encoded diagram it can also make available multiple sets of data such as speed, heartbeat, blood pressure, maybe even brain-wave patterns. From this limited point of view there is only one footballer’s playing trajectory to consider; various groupings within the team, the whole team itself, and the diagrammatological depiction of its games with various other teams might also be possible. This singular imagining though is itself an actuality: as a diagram it is encoded as a graphic image by a satellite hovering around the earth with a Global Positioning System (GPS) reading the sensor attached to the footballer which then digitally encodes this diagrammatological trajectory for appraisal later by the player, coach, team and management. In one respect, this practice is another example of a willing self-surveillance critical to explaining the reflexive subject and its attribute of continuous self-improvement. According to Docker, Official Magazine of the Fremantle Football Club, this is a technique the club uses as a part of game/play assessment, a system that can provide a “running map” for each player equipped with such a tracking device during a game. As the Fremantle Club’s Strength and Conditioning Coach Ben Tarbox says of this tactic, “We’re getting a physiological profile that has started to build a really good picture of how individual players react during a game” (21). With a little extra effort (and some sizeable computer processing grunt) this two dimensional linear graphic diagram of a footballer working the football ground could also form the raw material for a three-dimensional animation, maybe a virtual reality game, even a hologram. It could also be used to sideline a non-performing player. Now try another related but different imagining: what if this diagrammatological trajectory could be enlarged a little to include the possibility that this same player’s movements could be mapped out by the idea of home-and-away games; say over the course of a season, maybe even a whole career, for instance? No doubt, a wide range of differing diagrammatological perspectives might suggest themselves. My own particular refinement of this movement/stasis on the footballer’s part suggests my own distinctive comings and goings to and from my own specific piece of home country. And in this incessantly domestic/real world reciprocity, in this diurnally repetitive leaving and coming back to home country, might it be plausible to think of “Home as Capital of the Region”? If, as Walter Benjamin suggests in the prelude to his monumental Arcades Project, “Paris — the Capital of the Nineteenth Century,” could it be that both in and through my comings and goings to and from this selfsame home country, my own burgeoning sense of regionality is constituted in every minute-by-minutiae of lived experience? Could it be that this feeling about home is manifested in my every day-to-night manoeuvre of home-and-away-and-away-and-home-making, of every singular instance of exit, play/engage, and the return home? “Home, Capital of the Region” then examines the idea that my home is that part of the country which is the still-point of eternal return, the bedrock to which I retreat after the daily grind, and the point from which I start out and do it all again the next day. It employs, firstly, this ‘diagrammatological’ perspective to illustrate the point that this stasis/movement across country can make an electronic record of my own psychic self-surveillance and actualisation in-situ. And secondly, the architectural plan of the domestic home (examined through the perspective of critical regionalism) is used as a conduit to illustrate how I am physically embedded in country. Lastly, intermingling these digressive threads is chora, Plato’s notion of embodied place and itself an ancient regional rendering of this eternal return to the beginning, the place where the essential diversity of country decisively enters the soul. Chora: Core of Regionality Kevin Lynch writes that, “Our senses are local, while our experience is regional” (10), a combination that suggests this regional emphasis on home-and-away-making might be a useful frame of reference (simultaneously spatiotemporal, both a visceral and encoded communication) for me to include as a crucial vector in my own life-long learning package. Regionality (as, variously, a sub-generic categorisation and an extension/concentration of nationality, as well as a recently re-emerged friend/antagonist to a global understanding) infuses my world of home with a grounded footing in country, one that is a site of an Eternal Return to the Beginning in the micro-world of the everyday. This is a point John Sallis discusses at length in his analysis of Plato’s Timaeus and its founding notion of regionality: chora. More extended absences away from home-base are of course possible but one’s return to home on most days and for most nights is a given of post/modern, maybe even of ancient everyday experience. Even for the continually shifting nomad, nightfall in some part of the country brings the rest and recreation necessary for the next day’s wanderings. This fundamental question of an Eternal Return to the Beginning arises as a crucial element of the method in Plato’s Timaeus, a seemingly “unstructured” mythic/scientific dialogue about the origins and structure of both the psychically and the physically implaced world. In the Timaeus, “incoherence is especially obvious in the way the natural sequence in which a narrative would usually unfold is interrupted by regressions, corrections, repetitions, and abrupt new beginnings” (Gadamer 160). Right in the middle of the Timaeus, in between its sections on the “Work of Reason” and the “Work of Necessity”, sits chora, both an actual spatial and bodily site where my being intersects with my becoming, and where my lived life criss-crosses the various arts necessary to articulating a recorded version of that life. Every home is a grounded chora-logical timespace harness guiding its occupant’s thoughts, feelings and actions. My own regionally implaced chora (an example of which is the diagrammatological trajectory already outlined above as my various everyday comings and goings, of me acting in and projecting myself into context) could in part be understood as a graphical realisation of the extent of my movements and stationary rests in my own particular timespace trajectory. The shorthand for this process is ‘embedded’. Gregory Ulmer writes of chora that, “While chorography as a term is close to choreography, it duplicates a term that already exists in the discipline of geography, thus establishing a valuable resonance for a rhetoric of invention concerned with the history of ‘place’ in relation to memory” (Heuretics 39, original italics). Chorography is the geographic discipline for the systematic study and analysis of regions. Chora, home, country and regionality thus form an important multi-dimensional zone of interplay in memorialising the game of everyday life. In light of these observations I might even go so far as to suggest that this diagrammatological trajectory (being both digital and GPS originated) is part of the increasingly electrate condition that guides the production of knowledge in any global/regional context. This last point is a contextual connection usefully examined in Alan J. Scott’s Regions and the World Economy: The Coming Shape of Global Production, Competition, and Political Order and Michael Storper’s The Regional World: Territorial Development in a Global Economy. Their analyses explicitly suggest that the symbiosis between globalisation and regionalisation has been gathering pace since at least the end of World War Two and the Bretton Woods agreement. Our emerging understanding of electracy also happens to be Gregory Ulmer’s part-remedy for shifting the ground under the intense debates surrounding il/literacy in the current era (see, in particular, Internet Invention). And, for Tony Bennett, Michael Emmison and John Frow’s analysis of “Australian Everyday Cultures” (“Media Culture and the Home” 57–86), it is within the home that our un.conscious understanding of electronic media is at its most intense, a pattern that emerges in the longer term through receiving telegrams, compiling photo albums, listening to the radio, home- and video-movies, watching the evening news on television, and logging onto the computer in the home-office, media-room or home-studio. These various generalisations (along with this diagrammatological view of my comings and goings to and from the built space of home), all point indiscriminately to a productive confusion surrounding the sedentary and nomadic opposition/conjunction. If natural spaces are constituted in nouns like oceans, forests, plains, grasslands, steppes, deserts, rivers, tidal interstices, farmland etc. (and each categorisation here relies on the others for its existence and demarcation) then built space is often seen as constituting its human sedentary equivalent. For Deleuze and Guatteri (in A Thousand Plateaus, “1227: Treatise on Nomadology — The War Machine”) these natural spaces help instigate a nomadic movement across localities and regions. From a nomadology perspective, these smooth spaces unsettle a scientific, numerical calculation, sometimes even aesthetic demarcation and order. If they are marked at all, it is by heterogenous and differential forces, energised through constantly oscillating intensities. A Thousand Plateaus is careful though not to elevate these smooth nomadic spaces over the more sedentary spaces of culture and power (372–373). Nonetheless, as Edward S. Casey warns, “In their insistence on becoming and movement, however, the authors of A Thousand Plateaus overlook the placial potential of settled dwelling — of […] ‘built places’” (309, original italics). Sedentary, settled dwelling centred on home country may have a crust of easy legibility and order about it but it also formats a locally/regionally specific nomadic quality, a point underscored above in the diagrammatological perspective. The sedentary tendency also emerges once again in relation to home in the architectural drafting of the domestic domicile. The Real Estate Revolution When Captain Cook planted the British flag in the sand at Botany Bay in 1770 and declared the country it spiked as Crown Land and henceforth will come under the ownership of an English sovereign, it was also the moment when white Australia’s current fascination with real estate was conceived. In the wake of this spiking came the intense anxiety over Native Title that surfaced in late twentieth century Australia when claims of Indigenous land grabs would repossess suburban homes. While easily dismissed as hyperbole, a rhetorical gesture intended to arouse this very anxiety, its emergence is nonetheless an indication of the potential for political and psychic unsettling at the heart of the ownership and control of built place, or ‘settled dwelling’ in the Australian context. And here it would be wise to include not just the gridded, architectural quality of home-building and home-making, but also the home as the site of the family romance, another source of unsettling as much as a peaceful calming. Spreading out from the boundaries of the home are the built spaces of fences, bridges, roads, railways, airport terminals (along with their interconnecting pathways), which of course brings us back to the communications infrastructure which have so often followed alongside the development of transport infrastructure. These and other elements represent this conglomerate of built space, possibly the most significant transformation of natural space that humanity has brought about. For the purposes of this meditation though it is the more personal aspect of built space — my home and regional embeddedness, along with their connections into the global electrosphere — that constitutes the primary concern here. For a sedentary, striated space to settle into an unchallenged existence though requires a repression of the highest order, primarily because of the home’s proximity to everyday life, of the latter’s now fading ability to sometimes leave its presuppositions well enough alone. In settled, regionally experienced space, repressions are more difficult to abstract away, they are lived with on a daily basis, which also helps to explain the extra intensity brought to their sometimes-unsettling quality. Inversely, and encased in this globalised electro-spherical ambience, home cannot merely be a place where one dwells within avoiding those presuppositions, I take them with me when I travel and they come back with me from afar. This is a point obliquely reflected in Pico Iyer’s comment that “Australians have so flexible a sense of home, perhaps, that they can make themselves at home anywhere” (185). While our sense of home may well be, according to J. Douglas Porteous, “the territorial core” of our being, when other arrangements of space and knowledge shift it must inevitably do so as well. In these shifts of spatial affiliation (aided and abetted by regionalisation, globalisation and electronic knowledge), the built place of home can no longer be considered exclusively under the illusion of an autonomous sanctuary wholly guaranteed by capitalist property relations, one of the key factors in its attraction. These shifts in the cultural, economic and psychic relation of home to country are important to a sense of local and regional implacement. The “feeling” of autonomy and security involved in home occupation and/or ownership designates a component of this implacement, a point leading to Eric Leed’s comment that, “By the sixteenth century, literacy had become one of the definitive signs — along with the possession of property and a permanent residence — of an independent social status” (53). Globalising and regionalising forces make this feeling of autonomy and security dynamic, shifting the ground of home, work-place practices and citizenship allegiances in the process. Gathering these wide-ranging forces impacting on psychic and built space together is the emergence of critical regionalism as a branch of architectonics, considered here as a theory of domestic architecture. Critical Regionality Critical regionalism emerged out of the collective thinking of Liane Lefaivre and Alexander Tzonis (Tropical Architecture; Critical Regionalism), and as these authors themselves acknowledge, was itself deeply influenced by the work of Lewis Mumford during the first part of the twentieth century when he was arguing against the authority of the international style in architecture, a style epitomised by the Bauhaus movement. It is Kenneth Frampton’s essay, “Towards a Critical Regionalism: Six Points for an Architecture of Resistance” that deliberately takes this question of critical regionalism and makes it a part of a domestic architectonic project. In many ways the ideas critical regionalism espouses can themselves be a microcosm of this concomitantly emerging global/regional polis. With public examples of built-form the power of the centre is on display by virtue of a building’s enormous size and frequently high-cultural aesthetic power. This is a fact restated again and again from the ancient world’s agora to Australia’s own political bunker — its Houses of Parliament in Canberra. While Frampton discusses a range of aspects dealing with the universal/implaced axis across his discussion, it is points five and six that deserve attention from a domestically implaced perspective. Under the sub-heading, “Culture Versus Nature: Topography, Context, Climate, Light and Tectonic Form” is where he writes that, Here again, one touches in concrete terms this fundamental opposition between universal civilization and autochthonous culture. The bulldozing of an irregular topography into a flat site is clearly a technocratic gesture which aspires to a condition of absolute placelessness, whereas the terracing of the same site to receive the stepped form of a building is an engagement in the act of “cultivating” the site. (26, original italics) The “totally flat datum” that the universalising tendency sometimes presupposes is, within the critical regionalist perspective, an erroneous assumption. The “cultivation” of a site for the design of a building illustrates the point that built space emerges out of an interaction between parallel phenomena as they contrast and/or converge in a particular set of timespace co-ordinates. These are phenomena that could include (but are not limited to) geomorphic data like soil and rock formations, seismic activity, inclination and declension; climatic considerations in the form of wind patterns, temperature variations, rainfall patterns, available light and dark, humidity and the like; the building context in relation to the cardinal points of north, south, east, and west, along with their intermediary positions. There are also architectural considerations in the form of available building materials and personnel to consider. The social, psychological and cultural requirements of the building’s prospective in-dwellers are intermingled with all these phenomena. This is not so much a question of where to place the air conditioning system but the actuality of the way the building itself is placed on its site, or indeed if that site should be built on at all. A critical regionalist building practice, then, is autochthonous to the degree that a full consideration of this wide range of in-situ interactions is taken into consideration in the development of its design plan. And given this autochthonous quality of the critical regionalist project, it also suggests that the architectural design plan itself (especially when it utilised in conjunction with CAD and virtual reality simulations), might be the better model for designing electrate-centred projects rather than writing or even the script. The proliferation of ‘McMansions’ across many Australian suburbs during the 1990s (generally, oversized domestic buildings designed in the abstract with little or no thought to the above mentioned elements, on bulldozed sites, with powerful air-conditioning systems, and no verandas or roof eves to speak of) demonstrates the continuing influence of a universal, centralising dogma in the realm of built place. As summer temperatures start to climb into the 40°C range all these air-conditioners start to hum in unison, which in turn raises the susceptibility of the supporting infrastructure to collapse under the weight of an overbearing electrical load. The McMansion is a clear example of a built form that is envisioned more so in a drafting room, a space where the architect is remote-sensing the locational specificities. In this envisioning (driven more by a direct line-of-sight idiom dominant in “flat datum” and economic considerations rather than architectural or experiential ones), the tactile is subordinated, which is the subject of Frampton’s sixth point: It is symptomatic of the priority given to sight that we find it necessary to remind ourselves that the tactile is an important dimension in the perception of built form. One has in mind a whole range of complementary sensory perceptions which are registered by the labile body: the intensity of light, darkness, heat and cold; the feeling of humidity; the aroma of material; the almost palpable presence of masonry as the body senses it own confinement; the momentum of an induced gait and the relative inertia of the body as it traverses the floor; the echoing resonance of our own footfall. (28) The point here is clear: in its wider recognition of, and the foregrounding of my body’s full range of sensate capacities in relation to both natural and built space, the critical regionalist approach to built form spreads its meaning-making capacities across a broader range of knowledge modalities. This tactility is further elaborated in more thoroughly personal ways by Margaret Morse in her illuminating essay, “Home: Smell, Taste, Posture, Gleam”. Paradoxically, this synaesthetic, syncretic approach to bodily meaning-making in a built place, regional milieu intensely concentrates the site-centred locus of everyday life, while simultaneously, the electronic knowledge that increasingly underpins it expands both my body’s and its region’s knowledge-making possibilities into a global gestalt, sometimes even a cosmological one. It is a paradoxical transformation that makes us look anew at social, cultural and political givens, even objective and empirical understandings, especially as they are articulated through national frames of reference. Domestic built space then is a kind of micro-version of the multi-function polis where work, pleasure, family, rest, public display and privacy intermingle. So in both this reduction and expansion in the constitution of domestic home life, one that increasingly represents the location of the production of knowledge, built place represents a concentration of energy that forces us to re-imagine border-making, order, and the dynamic interplay of nomadic movement and sedentary return, a point that echoes Nicolas Rothwell’s comment that “every exile has in it a homecoming” (80). Albeit, this is a knowledge-making milieu with an expanded range of modalities incorporated and expressed through a wide range of bodily intensities not simply cognitive ones. Much of the ambiguous discontent manifested in McMansion style domiciles across many Western countries might be traced to the fact that their occupants have had little or no say in the way those domiciles have been designed and/or constructed. In Heidegger’s terms, they have not thought deeply enough about “dwelling” in that building, although with the advent of the media room the question of whether a “building” securely borders both “dwelling” and “thinking” is now open to question. As anxieties over border-making at all scales intensifies, the complexities and un/sureties of natural and built space take ever greater hold of the psyche, sometimes through the advance of a “high level of critical self-consciousness”, a process Frampton describes as a “double mediation” of world culture and local conditions (21). Nearly all commentators warn of a nostalgic, romantic or a sentimental regionalism, the sum total of which is aimed at privileging the local/regional and is sometimes utilised as a means of excluding the global or universal, sometimes even the national (Berry 67). Critical regionalism is itself a mediating factor between these dispositions, working its methods and practices through my own psyche into the local, the regional, the national and the global, rejecting and/or accepting elements of these domains, as my own specific context, in its multiplicity, demands it. If the politico-economic and cultural dimensions of this global/regional world have tended to undermine the process of border-making across a range of scales, we can see in domestic forms of built place the intense residue of both their continuing importance and an increased dependency on this electro-mediated world. This is especially apparent in those domiciles whose media rooms (with their satellite dishes, telephone lines, computers, television sets, games consuls, and music stereos) are connecting them to it in virtuality if not in reality. Indeed, the thought emerges (once again keeping in mind Eric Leed’s remark on the literate-configured sense of autonomy that is further enhanced by a separate physical address and residence) that the intense importance attached to domestically orientated built place by globally/regionally orientated peoples will figure as possibly the most viable means via which this sense of autonomy will transfer to electronic forms of knowledge. If, however, this here domestic habitué turns his gaze away from the screen that transports me into this global/regional milieu and I focus my attention on the physicality of the building in which I dwell, I once again stand in the presence of another beginning. This other beginning is framed diagrammatologically by the building’s architectural plans (usually conceived in either an in-situ, autochthonous, or a universal manner), and is a graphical conception that anchors my body in country long after the architects and builders have packed up their tools and left. This is so regardless of whether a home is built, bought, rented or squatted in. Ihab Hassan writes that, “Home is not where one is pushed into the light, but where one gathers it into oneself to become light” (417), an aphorism that might be rephrased as follows: “Home is not where one is pushed into the country, but where one gathers it into oneself to become country.” For the in-and-out-and-around-and-about domestic dweller of the twenty-first century, then, home is where both regional and global forms of country decisively enter the soul via the conduits of the virtuality of digital flows and the reality of architectural footings. Acknowledgements I’m indebted to both David Fosdick and Phil Roe for alerting me to the importance to the Fremantle Dockers Football Club. The research and an original draft of this essay were carried out under the auspices of a PhD scholarship from Central Queensland University, and from whom I would also like to thank Denis Cryle and Geoff Danaher for their advice. References Benjamin, Walter. “Paris — the Capital of the Nineteenth Century.” Charles Baudelaire: A Lyric Poet in the Era of High Capitalism. Trans. Quintin Hoare. London: New Left Books, 1973. 155–176. Bennett, Tony, Michael Emmison and John Frow. Accounting for Tastes: Australian Everyday Cultures. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1999. Berry, Wendell. “The Regional Motive.” A Continuous Harmony: Essays Cultural and Agricultural. San Diego: Harcourt Brace. 63–70. Casey, Edward S. The Fate of Place: A Philosophical History. Berkeley: U of California P, 1997. Deleuze, Gilles and Félix Guattari. A Thousand Plateaus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia. Trans. Brian Massumi. Minneapolis: U of Minneapolis P, 1987. Deleuze, Gilles. “The Diagram.” The Deleuze Reader. Ed. Constantin Boundas. Trans. Constantin Boundas and Jacqueline Code. New York: Columbia UP, 1993. 193–200. Frampton, Kenneth. “Towards a Critical Regionalism: Six Points for an Architecture of Resistance.” The Anti-Aesthetic: Essays on Post-Modern Culture. Ed. Hal Foster. Port Townsend: Bay Press, 1983. 16–30. Gadamer, Hans-Georg. “Idea and Reality in Plato’s Timaeus.” Dialogue and Dialectic: Eight Hermeneutical Studies on Plato. Trans. P. Christopher Smith. New Haven: Yale UP, 1980. 156–193. Hassan, Ihab. “How Australian Is It?” The Best Australian Essays. Ed. Peter Craven. Melbourne: Black Inc., 2000. 405–417. Heidegger, Martin. “Building Dwelling Thinking.” Poetry, Language, Thought. Trans. Albert Hofstadter. New York: Harper and Row, 1971. 145–161. Hughes, John. The Idea of Home: Autobiographical Essays. Sydney: Giramondo, 2004. Iyer, Pico. “Australia 1988: Five Thousand Miles from Anywhere.” Falling Off the Map: Some Lonely Places of the World. London: Jonathon Cape, 1993. 173–190. “Keeping Track.” Docker, Official Magazine of the Fremantle Football Club. Edition 3, September (2005): 21. Leed, Eric. “‘Voice’ and ‘Print’: Master Symbols in the History of Communication.” The Myths of Information: Technology and Postindustrial Culture. Ed. Kathleen Woodward. Madison, Wisconsin: Coda Press, 1980. 41–61. Lefaivre, Liane and Alexander Tzonis. “The Suppression and Rethinking of Regionalism and Tropicalism After 1945.” Tropical Architecture: Critical Regionalism in the Age of Globalization. Eds. Alexander Tzonis, Liane Lefaivre and Bruno Stagno. Chichester, West Sussex: Wiley-Academy, 2001. 14–58. Lefaivre, Liane and Alexander Tzonis. Critical Regionalism: Architecture and Identity in a Globalized World. New York: Prestel, 2003. Lynch, Kevin. Managing the Sense of a Region. Cambridge, Massachusetts: MIT P, 1976. Mitchell, W. J. T. “Diagrammatology.” Critical Inquiry 7.3 (1981): 622–633. Morse, Margaret. “Home: Smell, Taste, Posture, Gleam.” Home, Exile, Homeland: Film, Media, and the Politics of Place. Ed. Hamid Naficy. New York and London: Routledge, 1999. 63–74. Plato. Timaeus and Critias. Trans. Desmond Lee. Harmondsworth: Penguin Classics, 1973. Porteous, J. Douglas. “Home: The Territorial Core.” Geographical Review LXVI (1976): 383-390. Rothwell, Nicolas. Wings of the Kite-Hawk: A Journey into the Heart of Australia. Sydney: Pidador, 2003. Sallis, John. Chorology: On Beginning in Plato’s Timaeus. Bloomington: Indianapolis UP, 1999. Scott, Allen J. Regions and the World Economy: The Coming Shape of Global Production, Competition, and Political Order. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998. Storper, Michael. The Regional World: Territorial Development in a Global Economy. New York: The Guildford Press, 1997. Ulmer, Gregory L. Heuretics: The Logic of Invention. New York: John Hopkins UP, 1994. Ulmer, Gregory. Internet Invention: Literacy into Electracy. Longman: Boston, 2003. Wilken, Rowan. “Diagrammatology.” Illogic of Sense: The Gregory Ulmer Remix. Eds. Darren Tofts and Lisa Gye. Alt-X Press, 2007. 48–60. Available at http://www.altx.com/ebooks/ulmer.html. (Retrieved 12 June 2007)

Abstract:

Contemporary culinary discourse in Australia has been dominated by the notion that migration and the increased mobility of Australians is responsible for filling a culinary void, as though, because we have had no peasantry we have no affinity with either the land or its produce. This argument serves to alienate Australians of British descent and its validity is open to questioning. It's an argument in urgent need of debate because cuisine stands out as the signifier of a 'multicultural' nation. Despite all the political posturing, food has 'long been the acceptable face of multiculturalism' (Gunew 13). We argue that the rhetoric of multiculturalism serves to widen the chasm between Australians of British descent and other migrants by encouraging the 'us' and 'them' mentality. We have examined the common links in the food stories of three women from disparate backgrounds. The sample is small in quantitative terms but we felt that if the culinary histories of just three women ran counter to the dominant discourse, then they would provide a new point of departure. In doing this we hope to question the precept driving culinary discourse which gives more weight to what men have said and done, than what women have cooked and how; and propagates mythologies about the eating habits of 'ethnic' migrants. Multiculturalism The terminology surrounding policies that seek to manage difference and diversity is culturally loaded and tends to perpetuate binaries. "Multiculturalism, circulates in Australia as a series of discursive formations serving a variety of institutional interests" (Gunew 256). In Australia multicultural policy seeks to "manage our cultural diversity so that the social cohesion of our nation is preserved" (Advisory Council on Multicultural Affairs 4). The result is to allow diversity that is sanctioned and is to some extent hom*ogenised, while difference is not understood and is contained (see Newman). Multicultural? Who does it include and exclude? Gunew points out that official formulations of multiculturalism exclude people of 'Anglo-Celtic' origin, as though they had no 'ethnicity'. Multiculturalism, while addressing some of the social problems of immigration, is propelled at government level by our need for national cultural policy (see Stratton and Ang). To have a national cultural policy you need, it would seem, a film industry, a music industry, and a cuisine. In his history of Australian cuisine, Symons has only briefly alluded to women's role in the development of Australia's 'industrial cuisine'. One Continuous Picnic presents an essentially masculinist history, a pessimistic derogatory view giving little value to domestic traditions passed from mother to daughter. Women are mentioned only as authors of cookbooks produced throughout the 19th century and as the housewives whose role in the 1950s changed due to the introduction of labour-saving devices. Scant reference is made to the pre-eminent icon of Australian rural culinary history, the Country Women's Association1 and their recipe books. These books have gone through numerous editions from the 1920s, but Symons refers to them dismissively as a 'plain text' arising from the 'store-shelf of processed ingredients' (Symons 201). What of the 'vegie' patch, the afternoon tea? These traditions are mentioned, but only in passing. The products of arduous and loving baking are belittled as 'pretty things'. Is this because they are too difficult to document or because they are women's business? Female writers Barbara Santich and Marion Halligan have both written on the importance of these traditions in the lives of Australian women. Symons's discourse concentrates on 'industrial cuisine', but who is to say that its imperatives were not transgressed. The available data derives from recipe books, sales figures and advertising, but we don't actually know how much food came from other sources. Did your grandmother keep chickens? Did your grandfather fish? Terra Australis Culinae Nullius2 Michael Symons's precept is: This is the only continent which has not supported an agrarian society ... . Our land missed that fertile period when agriculture and cooking were created. There has never been the creative interplay between society and the soil. Almost no food has ever been grown by the person who eats it, almost no food has been preserved in the home and indeed, very little preparation is now done by a family cook. This is the uncultivated continent. Our history is without peasants. (10, our emphasis) This notion of terra Australis culinae nullius is problematic on two levels. The use of the word indigenous implies both Aboriginal and British settler culinary tradition. This statement consequently denies both traditional Aboriginal knowledge and the British traditions. The importance of Aboriginal foodways, their modern exploitation and their impact on the future of Australian cuisine needs recognition, but the complexity of the issue places it beyond the bounds of this paper. Symons's view of peasantry is a romanticised one, and says less about food and more about nostalgia for a more permanent, less changing environment. Advertising of 'ethnic' food routinely exploits this nostalgia by appropriating the image of the cheerful peasant. These advertisem*nts perpetuate the mythologies that link pastoral images with 'family values'. These myths, or what Barthes describes as 'cultural truths', hold that migrant families all have harmonious relationships, are benevolently patriarchal and they all sit down to eat together. 'Ethnic' families are at one with the land and use recipes made from fresher, more natural produce, that are handed down through the female line and have had the benefit of generations of culinary wisdom. (See Gallegos & Mansfield.) So are the culinary traditions of Australians of British descent so different from those of migrant families? Joan, born near her home in Cunderdin in the Western Australian wheatbelt, grew up on a farm in reasonably prosperous circ*mstances with her six siblings. After marrying, she remained in the Cunderdin area to continue farming. Giovanna was born in 1915 on a farm four kilometres outside Vasto, in the Italian region of Abruzzi. One of seven children, her father died when she was young and at the age of twenty, she came to Australia to marry a Vastese man 12 years her senior. Maria was born in Madeira in 1946, in a coastal village near the capital Funchal. Like Giovanna she is the fifth of seven children and arrived in Australia at the age of twenty to marry. We used the information elicited from these three women to scrutinise some of the mythology surrounding ethnic families. Myth 1: 'Ethnic' families all eat together. All three women said their families had eaten together in the past and it was Joan who commented that what was missing in Australia today was people sitting down together to share a meal. Joan's farming community all came in for an extended midday meal from necessity, as the horses needed to be rested. Both women described radio, television, increasing work hours and different shifts as responsible for the demise of the family meal. Commensality is one of the common boundary markers for all groups 'indicating a kind of equality, peership, and the promise of further kinship links stemming from the intimate acts of dining together' (Nash 11). It is not only migrant families who eat together, and the demise of the family meal is more widely felt. Myth 2: Recipes in 'ethnic' families are passed down from generation to generation. Handing recipes down from generation to generation is not limited to just 'ethnic' families. All three women describe learning to cook from their mothers. Giovanna and Maria had hands-on experiences at very young ages, cooking for the family out of necessity. Joan did not have to cook for her family but her mother still taught her basic cookery as well as the finer points. The fluidity of the mother-daughter identity is expressed and documented by the handing on of recipes. Joan's community thought the recipes important enough to document in a written form, and so the West Australian version of the CWA cookbook became a reality. Joan, when asked about why the CWA developed a cookbook, replied that they wanted to record the recipes that were all well tried by women who spent the bulk of their days in the kitchen, cooking. Being taught to cook, teaching your children to cook and passing on recipes crosses borders, and does not serve to create or maintain boundaries. Myth 3: 'Ethnic' food is never prepared from processed products but always from homegrown produce. During their childhoods the range of food items purchased by the families was remarkably similar for all three women. All described buying tinned fish, rice and sugar, while the range of items produced from what was grown reflected common practices for the use and preservation of fresh produce. The major difference was the items that were in abundance, so while Joan describes pickling meat in addition to preserving fruits, Maria talks about preserving fish and Giovanna vegetables. The traditions developed around what was available. Joan and her family grew the food that they ate, preserved the food in their own home, and the family cook did all the preparation. To suggest they did not have a creative interplay with the soil is suggesting that they were unskilled in making a harsh landscape profitable. Joan's family could afford to buy more food items than the other families. Given the choice both Giovanna's and Maria's families would have only been too eager to make their lives easier. For example, on special occasions when the choice was available Giovanna's family chose store-bought pasta. The perception of the freshness and tastiness of peasant cuisine and affinity with the land obscures the issue, which for much of the world is still quantity, not quality. It would seem that these women's stories have points of reference. All three women describe the sense of community food engendered. They all remember sharing and swapping recipes. This sense of community was expressed by the sharing of food -- regardless of how little there was or what it was. The legacy lives on, while no longer feeling obliged to provide an elaborate afternoon tea as she did in her married life, visitors to Joan's home arrive to the smell of freshly baked biscuits shared over a cup of tea or coffee. Giovanna is only too eager to share her Vastese cakes with a cup of espresso coffee, and as new acquaintances we are obliged to taste each of the five different varieties of cakes and take some home. Maria, on the other hand, offered instant coffee and store-bought biscuits; having worked outside the home all her life and being thirty years younger than the other women, is this perhaps the face of modernity? The widespread anticipation of the divisions between these women has more to do with power relationships and the politics of east, west, north, south than with the realities of everyday life. The development of a style of eating will depend on your knowledge both as an individual and as a collective, the ingredients that are available at any one time, the conditions under which food has to be grown, and your own history. For the newly-arrived Southern Europeans meat was consumed in higher quantities because its availability was restricted in their countries of origin, to eat meat regularly was to increase your status in society. Interest in 'ethnic' food and its hybridisation is a global phenomenon and the creolisation of eating has been described both in America (see Garbaccia) and in Britain (James 81). The current obsession with the 'ethnic' has more to do with nostalgia than tolerance. The interviews which were conducted highlight the similarities between three women from different backgrounds despite differences in age and socioeconomic status. Our cuisine is in the process of hybridisation, but let us not forget who is manipulating this process and the agendas under which it is encouraged. To lay claim that one tradition is wonderful, while the other either does not exist or has nothing to offer, perpetuates divisive binaries. By focussing on what these women have in common rather than their differences we begin to critically interrogate the "culinary binary". It is our intention to stimulate debate that we hope will eventually lead to the encouragement of difference rather than the futile pursuit of authenticity. Footnotes 1. The Country Women's Association is an organisation that began in Australia in the 1920s. It is still operational and has as one of its primary aims the improvement of the welfare and conditions of women and children, especially those living in the country. 2. The term terra australis nullius is used to describe Australia at the point of colonisation. The continent was regarded as "empty" because the native people had neither improved nor settled on the land. We have extended this concept to incorporate cuisine. This notion of emptiness has influenced readings of Australian history which overlook the indigenous population and their relationship with the land. References Advisory Council on Multicultural Affairs. Towards A National Agenda for a Multicultural Australia. Canberra, 1988. Barthes, Roland. Mythologies. Trans. A. Lavers. London: Vintage, 1993. Belasco, Warren. "Ethnic Fast Foods: The Corporate Melting Pot". Food and Foodways 2.1 (1987): 1-30. Gallegos, Danielle, and Alan Mansfield. "Eclectic Gastronomes or Conservative Eaters: What Does Advertising Say?" Nutrition Unplugged, Proceedings of the 16th Dietitians Association of Australia National Conference. Hobart: Dietitians Association of Australia, 1997. Gallegos, Danielle, and Alan Mansfield. "Screen Cuisine: The Pastes, Powders and Potions of the Mediterranean Diet". Celebrate Food, Proceedings of the 17th Dietitians Association of Australia National Conference. Sydney: Dietitians Association of Australia, 1998. Garbaccia, D.R. We Are What We Eat: Ethnic Food and the Making of Americans. Boston: Harvard UP, 1998. Gunew, Sneja. "Denaturalising Cultural Nationalisms; Multicultural Readings of 'Australia'." Nation and Narration. Ed. Homi Bhabha. London: Routledge, 1990. 245-66. Gunew, Sneja. Introduction. Feminism and the Politics of Difference. Eds. S. Gunew and A. Yeatman. Sydney: Allen and Unwin, 1993. xiii-xxv. Halligan, Marion. Eat My Words. Melbourne: Angus & Robertson, 1990. Harvey, D. The Condition of Postmodernity. Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1989. James, Alison. "How British Is British Food". Food, Health and Identity. Ed. P. Caplan. London: Routledge, 1997. 71-86. Mennell, Stephen. All Manners of Food: Eating and Taste in England and France from the Middle Ages to the Present. Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1996. Nash, Manning. The Cauldron of Ethnicity in the Modern World. Chicago: U of Chicago P, 1989. Newman, Felicity. Didn't Your Mother Teach You Not to Talk with Your Mouth Full? Food, Families and Friction. Unpublished Masters Thesis, Murdoch University, Perth, Western Australia, 1997. Santich, Barbara. Looking for Flavour. Adelaide: Wakefield, 1996. Stratton, Jon, and Ien Ang. "Multicultural Imagined Communities: Cultural Difference and National Identity in Australia and the USA". Continuum 8.2 (1994): 124-58. Symons, Michael. One Continuous Picnic. Adelaide: Duck, 1992. Citation reference for this article MLA style: Danielle Gallegos, Felicity Newman. "What about the Women? Food, Migration and Mythology." M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2.7 (1999). [your date of access] <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9910/women.php>. Chicago style: Danielle Gallegos, Felicity Newman, "What about the Women? Food, Migration and Mythology," M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2, no. 7 (1999), <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9910/women.php> ([your date of access]). APA style: Danielle Gallegos, Felicity Newman. (1999) What about the women? Food, migration and mythology. M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2(7). <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9910/women.php> ([your date of access]).

Abstract:

In 1988, historian Nadia Wheatley and indigenous artist Donna Rawlins published their award-winning picture book, My Place, a reinterpretation of Australian national identity and sovereignty prompted by the bicentennial of white settlement. Twenty years later, the Australian Broadcasting Corporation (ABC) commissioned Penny Chapman’s multi-platform project based on this book. The 13 episodes of the television series begin in 2008, each telling the story of a child at a different point in history, and are accompanied by substantial interactive online content. Issues as diverse as religious difference and immigration, wartime conscription and trauma, and the experiences of Aboriginal Australians are canvassed. The program itself, which has a second series currently in production, introduces child audiences to—and implicates them in—a rich ideological fabric of deeply politicised issues that directly engage with vexed questions of Australian nationhood. The series offers a subversive view of Australian history and society, and it is the child—whether protagonist on the screen or the viewer/user of the content—who is left to discover, negotiate and move beyond often problematic societal norms. As one of the public broadcaster’s keystone projects, My Place signifies important developments in ABC’s construction of multicultural child citizenship. The digitisation of Australian television has facilitated a wave of multi-channel and new media innovation. Though the development of a multi-channel ecology has occurred significantly later in Australia than in the US or Europe, in part due to genre restrictions on broadcasters, all major Australian networks now have at least one additional free-to-air channel, make some of their content available online, and utilise various forms of social media to engage their audiences. The ABC has been in the vanguard of new media innovation, leveraging the industry dominance of ABC Online and its cross-platform radio networks for the repurposing of news, together with the additional funding for digital renewal, new Australian content, and a digital children’s channel in the 2006 and 2009 federal budgets. In line with “market failure” models of broadcasting (Born, Debrett), the ABC was once the most important producer-broadcaster for child viewers. With the recent allocation for the establishment of ABC3, it is now the catalyst for a significant revitalisation of the Australian children’s television industry. The ABC Charter requires it to broadcast programs that “contribute to a sense of national identity” and that “reflect the cultural diversity of the Australian community” (ABC Documents). Through its digital children’s channel (ABC3) and its multi-platform content, child viewers are not only exposed to a much more diverse range of local content, but also politicised by an intricate network of online texts connected to the TV programs. The representation of diasporic communities through and within multi-platformed spaces forms a crucial part of the way(s) in which collective identities are now being negotiated in children’s texts. An analysis of one of the ABC’s My Place “projects” and its associated multi-platformed content reveals an intricate relationship between postcolonial concerns and the construction of child citizenship. Multicultural Places, Multi-Platformed Spaces: New Media Innovation at the ABC The 2007 restructure at the ABC has transformed commissioning practices along the lines noted by James Bennett and Niki Strange of the BBC—a shift of focus from “programs” to multi-platform “projects,” with the latter consisting of a complex network of textual production. These “second shift media practices” (Caldwell) involve the tactical management of “user flows structured into and across the textual terrain that serve to promote a multifaceted and prolonged experience of the project” (Bennett and Strange 115). ABC Managing Director Mark Scott’s polemic deployment of the “digital commons” trope (Murdock, From) differs from that of his opposite number at the BBC, Mark Thompson, in its emphasis on the glocalised openness of the Australian “town square”—at once distinct from, and an integral part of, larger conversations. As announced at the beginning of the ABC’s 2009 annual report, the ABC is redefining the town square as a world of greater opportunities: a world where Australians can engage with one another and explore the ideas and events that are shaping our communities, our nation and beyond … where people can come to speak and be heard, to listen and learn from each other. (ABC ii)The broad emphasis on engagement characterises ABC3’s positioning of children in multi-platformed projects. As the Executive Producer of the ABC’s Children’s Television Multi-platform division comments, “participation is very much the mantra of the new channel” (Glen). The concept of “participation” is integral to what has been described elsewhere as “rehearsals in citizenship” (Northam). Writing of contemporary youth, David Buckingham notes that “‘political thinking’ is not merely an intellectual or developmental achievement, but an interpersonal process which is part of the construction of a collective, social identity” (179). Recent domestically produced children’s programs and their associated multimedia applications have significant potential to contribute to this interpersonal, “participatory” process. Through multi-platform experiences, children are (apparently) invited to construct narratives of their own. Dan Harries coined the term “viewser” to highlight the tension between watching and interacting, and the increased sense of agency on the part of audiences (171–82). Various online texts hosted by the ABC offer engagement with extra content relating to programs, with themed websites serving as “branches” of the overarching ABC3 metasite. The main site—strongly branded as the place for its targeted demographic—combines conventional television guide/program details with “Watch Now!,” a customised iView application within ABC3’s own themed interface; youth-oriented news; online gaming; and avenues for viewsers to create digital art and video, or interact with the community of “Club3” and associated message boards. The profiles created by members of Club3 are moderated and proscribe any personal information, resulting in an (understandably) restricted form of “networked publics” (boyd 124–5). Viewser profiles comprise only a username (which, the website stresses, should not be one’s real name) and an “avatar” (a customisable animated face). As in other social media sites, comments posted are accompanied by the viewser’s “name” and “face,” reinforcing the notion of individuality within the common group. The tool allows users to choose from various skin colours, emphasising the multicultural nature of the ABC3 community. Other customisable elements, including the ability to choose between dozens of pre-designed ABC3 assets and feeds, stress the audience’s “ownership” of the site. The Help instructions for the Club3 site stress the notion of “participation” directly: “Here at ABC3, we don’t want to tell you what your site should look like! We think that you should be able to choose for yourself.” Multi-platformed texts also provide viewsers with opportunities to interact with many of the characters (human actors and animated) from the television texts and share further aspects of their lives and fictional worlds. One example, linked to the representation of diasporic communities, is the Abatti Pizza Game, in which the player must “save the day” by battling obstacles to fulfil a pizza order. The game’s prefacing directions makes clear the ethnicity of the Abatti family, who are also visually distinctive. The dialogue also registers cultural markers: “Poor Nona, whatsa she gonna do? Now it’s up to you to help Johnny and his friends make four pizzas.” The game was acquired from the Canadian-animated franchise, Angela Anaconda; nonetheless, the Abatti family, the pizza store they operate and the dilemma they face translates easily to the Australian context. Dramatisations of diasporic contributions to national youth identities in postcolonial or settler societies—the UK (My Life as a Popat, CITV) and Canada (How to Be Indie)—also contribute to the diversity of ABC3’s television offerings and the positioning of its multi-platform community. The negotiation of diasporic and postcolonial politics is even clearer in the public broadcaster’s commitment to My Place. The project’s multifaceted construction of “places,” the ethical positioning of the child both as an individual and a member of (multicultural) communities, and the significant acknowledgement of ongoing conflict and discrimination, articulate a cultural commons that is more open-ended and challenging than the Eurocentric metaphor, the “town square,” suggests. Diversity, Discrimination and Diasporas: Positioning the Viewser of My Place Throughout the first series of My Place, the experiences of children within different diasporic communities are the focal point of five of the initial six episodes, the plots of which revolve around children with Lebanese, Vietnamese, Greek, and Irish backgrounds. This article focuses on an early episode of the series, “1988,” which explicitly confronts the cultural frictions between dominant Anglocentric Australian and diasporic communities. “1988” centres on the reaction of young Lily to the arrival of her cousin, Phuong, from Vietnam. Lily is a member of a diasporic community, but one who strongly identifies as “an Australian,” allowing a nuanced exploration of the ideological conflicts surrounding the issue of so-called “boat people.” The protagonist’s voice-over narration at the beginning of the episode foregrounds her desire to win Australia’s first Olympic gold medal in gymnastics, thus mobilising nationally identified hierarchies of value. Tensions between diasporic and settler cultures are frequently depicted. One potentially reactionary sequence portrays the recurring character of Michaelis complaining about having to use chopsticks in the Vietnamese restaurant; however, this comment is contextualised several episodes later, when a much younger Michaelis, as protagonist of the episode “1958,” is himself discriminated against, due to his Greek background. The political irony of “1988” pivots on Lily’s assumption that her cousin “won’t know Australian.” There is a patronising tone in her warning to Phuong not to speak Vietnamese for fear of schoolyard bullying: “The kids at school give you heaps if you talk funny. But it’s okay, I can talk for you!” This encourages child viewers to distance themselves from this fictional parallel to the frequent absence of representation of asylum seekers in contemporary debates. Lily’s assumptions and attitudes are treated with a degree of scepticism, particularly when she assures her friends that the silent Phuong will “get normal soon,” before objectifying her cousin for classroom “show and tell.” A close-up camera shot settles on Phuong’s unease while the children around her gossip about her status as a “boat person,” further encouraging the audience to empathise with the bullied character. However, Phuong turns the tables on those around her when she reveals she can competently speak English, is able to perform gymnastics and other feats beyond Lily’s ability, and even invents a story of being attacked by “pirates” in order to silence her gossiping peers. By the end of the narrative, Lily has redeemed herself and shares a close friendship with Phuong. My Place’s structured child “participation” plays a key role in developing the postcolonial perspective required by this episode and the project more broadly. Indeed, despite the record project budget, a second series was commissioned, at least partly on the basis of the overwhelmingly positive reception of viewsers on the ABC website forums (Buckland). The intricate My Place website, accessible through the ABC3 metasite, generates transmedia intertextuality interlocking with, and extending the diegesis of, the televised texts. A hyperlinked timeline leads to collections of personal artefacts “owned” by each protagonist, such as journals, toys, and clothing. Clicking on a gold medal marked “History” in Lily’s collection activates scrolling text describing the political acceptance of the phrase “multiculturalism” and the “Family Reunion” policy, which assisted the arrival of 100,000 Vietnamese immigrants. The viewser is reminded that some people were “not very welcoming” of diasporic groups via an explicit reference to Mrs Benson’s discriminatory attitudes in the series. Viewsers can “visit” virtual representations of the program’s sets. In the bedroom, kitchen, living room and/or backyard of each protagonist can be discovered familiar and additional details of the characters’ lives. The artefacts that can be “played” with in the multimedia applications often imply the enthusiastic (and apparently desirable) adoption of “Australianness” by immigrant children. Lily’s toys (her doll, hair accessories, roller skates, and glass marbles) invoke various aspects of western children’s culture, while her “journal entry” about Phuong states that she is “new to Australia but with her sense of humour she has fitted in really well.” At the same time, the interactive elements within Lily’s kitchen, including a bowl of rice and other Asian food ingredients, emphasise cultural continuity. The description of incense in another room of Lily’s house as a “common link” that is “used in many different cultures and religions for similar purposes” clearly normalises a glocalised world-view. Artefacts inside the restaurant operated by Lily’s mother link to information ranging from the ingredients and (flexible) instructions for how to make rice paper rolls (“Lily and Phuong used these fillings but you can use whatever you like!”) to a brief interactive puzzle game requiring the arrangement of several peppers in order from least hot to most hot. A selectable picture frame downloads a text box labelled “Images of Home.” Combined with a slideshow of static, hand-drawn images of traditional Vietnamese life, the text can be read as symbolic of the multiplicity of My Place’s target audience(s): “These images would have reminded the family of their homeland and also given restaurant customers a sense of Vietnamese culture.” The social-developmental, postcolonial agenda of My Place is registered in both “conventional” ancillary texts, such as the series’ “making of” publication (Wheatley), and the elaborate pedagogical website for teachers developed by the ACTF and Educational Services Australia (http://www.myplace.edu.au/). The politicising function of the latter is encoded in the various summaries of each decade’s historical, political, social, cultural, and technological highlights, often associated with the plot of the relevant episode. The page titled “Multiculturalism” reports on the positive amendments to the Commonwealth’s Migration Act 1958 and provides links to photographs of Vietnamese migrants in 1982, exemplifying the values of equality and cultural diversity through Lily and Phuong’s story. The detailed “Teaching Activities” documents available for each episode serve a similar purpose, providing, for example, the suggestion that teachers “ask students to discuss the importance to a new immigrant of retaining links to family, culture and tradition.” The empathetic positioning of Phuong’s situation is further mirrored in the interactive map available for teacher use that enables children to navigate a boat from Vietnam to the Australian coast, encouraging a perspective that is rarely put forward in Australia’s mass media. This is not to suggest that the My Place project is entirely unproblematic. In her postcolonial analysis of Aboriginal children’s literature, Clare Bradford argues that “it’s all too possible for ‘similarities’ to erase difference and the political significances of [a] text” (188). Lily’s schoolteacher’s lesson in the episode “reminds us that boat people have been coming to Australia for a very long time.” However, the implied connection between convicts and asylum seekers triggered by Phuong’s (mis)understanding awkwardly appropriates a mythologised Australian history. Similarly in the “1998” episode, the Muslim character Mohammad’s use of Ramadan for personal strength in order to emulate the iconic Australian cricketer Shane Warne threatens to subsume the “difference” of the diasporic community. Nonetheless, alongside the similarities between individuals and the various ethnic groups that make up the My Place community, important distinctions remain. Each episode begins and/or ends with the child protagonist(s) playing on or around the central motif of the series—a large fig tree—with the characters declaring that the tree is “my place.” While emphasising the importance of individuality in the project’s construction of child citizens, the cumulative effect of these “my place” sentiments, felt over time by characters from different socio-economic, ethnic, and cultural backgrounds, builds a multifaceted conception of Australian identity that consists of numerous (and complementary) “branches.” The project’s multi-platformed content further emphasises this, with the website containing an image of the prominent (literal and figurative) “Community Tree,” through which the viewser can interact with the generations of characters and families from the series (http://www.abc.net.au/abc3/myplace/). The significant role of the ABC’s My Place project showcases the ABC’s remit as a public broadcaster in the digital era. As Tim Brooke-Hunt, the Executive Head of Children’s Content, explains, if the ABC didn’t do it, no other broadcaster was going to come near it. ... I don’t expect My Place to be a humungous commercial or ratings success, but I firmly believe ... that it will be something that will exist for many years and will have a very special place. Conclusion The reversion to iconic aspects of mainstream Anglo-Australian culture is perhaps unsurprising—and certainly telling—when reflecting on the network of local, national, and global forces impacting on the development of a cultural commons. However, this does not detract from the value of the public broadcaster’s construction of child citizens within a clearly self-conscious discourse of “multiculturalism.” The transmedia intertextuality at work across ABC3 projects and platforms serves an important politicising function, offering positive representations of diasporic communities to counter the negative depictions children are exposed to elsewhere, and positioning child viewsers to “participate” in “working through” fraught issues of Australia’s past that still remain starkly relevant today.References ABC. Redefining the Town Square. ABC Annual Report. Sydney: ABC, 2009. Bennett, James, and Niki Strange. “The BBC’s Second-Shift Aesthetics: Interactive Television, Multi-Platform Projects and Public Service Content for a Digital Era.” Media International Australia: Incorporating Culture and Policy 126 (2008): 106-19. Born, Georgina. Uncertain Vision: Birt, Dyke and the Reinvention of the BBC. London: Vintage, 2004. boyd, danah. “Why Youth ♥ Social Network Sites: The Role of Networked Publics in Teenage Social Life.” Youth, Identity, and Digital Media. Ed. David Buckingham. Cambridge: MIT, 2008. 119-42. Bradford, Clare. Reading Race: Aboriginality in Australian Children’s Literature. Carlton: Melbourne UP, 2001. Brooke-Hunt, Tim. Executive Head of Children’s Content, ABC TV. Interviewed by Dr Leonie Rutherford, ABC Ultimo Center, 16 Mar. 2010. Buckingham, David. After the Death of Childhood: Growing Up in the Age of Electronic Media. Cambridge: Polity, 2000. Buckland, Jenny. Chief Executive Officer, Australian Children’s Television Foundation. Interviewed by Dr Leonie Rutherford and Dr Nina Weerakkody, ACTF, 2 June 2010. Caldwell, John T. “Second Shift Media Aesthetics: Programming, Interactivity and User Flows.” New Media: Theories and Practices of Digitextuality. Eds. John T. Caldwell and Anna Everett. London: Routledge, 2003. 127-44. Debrett, Mary. “Riding the Wave: Public Service Television in the Multiplatform Era.” Media, Culture & Society 31.5 (2009): 807-27. From, Unni. “Domestically Produced TV-Drama and Cultural Commons.” Cultural Dilemmas in Public Service Broadcasting. Eds. Gregory Ferrell Lowe and Per Jauert. Göteborg: Nordicom, 2005. 163-77. Glen, David. Executive Producer, ABC Multiplatform. Interviewed by Dr Leonie Rutherford, ABC Elsternwick, 6 July 2010. Harries, Dan. “Watching the Internet.” The New Media Book. Ed. Dan Harries. London: BFI, 2002. 171-82. Murdock, Graham. “Building the Digital Commons: Public Broadcasting in the Age of the Internet.” Cultural Dilemmas in Public Service Broadcasting. Ed. Gregory Ferrell Lowe and Per Jauert. Göteborg: Nordicom, 2005. 213–30. My Place, Volumes 1 & 2: 2008–1888. DVD. ABC, 2009. Northam, Jean A. “Rehearsals in Citizenship: BBC Stop-Motion Animation Programmes for Young Children.” Journal for Cultural Research 9.3 (2005): 245-63. Wheatley, Nadia. Making My Place. Sydney and Auckland: HarperCollins, 2010. ———, and Donna Rawlins. My Place, South Melbourne: Longman, 1988.

Abstract:

The concept of “softening the news” or “tabloidization” refers to the adaption of tabloid standards by elite media, as a result of competitive pressures and with the aim of attracting the attention of the mass audience (e.g., Magin, 2019). Reinemann et al. (2012) distinguish three important dimensions: topic dimension: According to this dimension, “soft news” can be distinguished from “hard news” by their political relevance; one can either determine the level of political relevance (Reinemann et al., 2012) or – as most studies do (e.g., Steiner, 2016) – distinguish between topics that can be classified as either hard (e.g., politics) or soft (e.g., crime, sports, lifestyle). focus dimension: Soft news in this respect reports on issues in a rather episodic and less thematic way which means that the news coverage focuses more on the event itself instead of framing the event in a more general context (Iyengar, 1991; see also Entman, 1993). Furthermore, soft news rather focuses on individual rather than societal consequences. style dimension: According to this dimensions, soft news can be distinguished from hard news by the way of presentation. Soft news is presented inter alia in a more emotional, subjective or narrative way. News softening therefore represents a multi-dimensional concept (Esser, 1999; Reinemann et al., 2012) in which the different dimensions and indicators form a continuum. On this basis one can assess the degree of overall news softening. The concept thereby incorporates various other concepts of communication science (e.g., framing, subjective/objective reporting, etc.) that can thus be also attributed to distinct research traditions. Particularly in the style dimension, many different indicators are analysed – although the studies often differ as to which indicators are used. Field of application/theoretical foundation: Since soft news journalism is often seen as a threat to normative standards for quality media, the research on soft news and tabloidization trends is often part of studies on media performance. So far, studies on news softening and tabloidization focus on the comparison of (elite and popular) newspapers (e.g., Lefkowitz, 2018) or (public service and commercial) TV newscasts (e.g., Donsbach & Büttner, 2005). More recent studies also take online media into account (e.g., Karlsson, 2016) or compare social media platforms such as Facebook with offline and/or online media (e.g., Lischka & Werning, 2017; Magin et al., in press). References/combination with other methods of data collection: Content analyses can be combined with survey data from/ interviews with journalists (e.g., Leidenberger, 2015; Lischka & Werning, 2017; Lischka, 2018) or with experiments on the effect of soft news on the audience (e.g., trust in the news, information processing: see Bernhard, 2012 or Grabe et al., 2003 as examples, although these studies do not combine the results on the effects with content analyses). Example studies: Indicator Name of variable(s) Study Topic Dimension: Political relevance Political relevance Reinemann et al., 2012 topic Thema (kategorisiert) [topic (categorized)] Steiner, 2016 Focus Dimension: Episodic framing Episodic – thematic framing Reinemann et al., 2012 Individual framing Individual – societal relevance Reinemann et al., 2012 Style Dimension: 1. Emotional reporting (incl. affective wording, visual presentation of emotions) Emotional – unemotional reporting Reinemann et al., 2012 2. Personal reporting Personal – impersonal reporting Reinemann et al., 2012 3. Colloquial/ loose language Umgangssprache, Lockerheit der Sprache [colloquial, loose language] Steiner, 2016 4. Narrative presentation Nachrichtenpyramide vs. Narration [news pyramid vs. narration] Donsbach & Büttner, 2005 5. Emphasis on conflicts Konflikthaltigkeit [conflicts] Donsbach & Büttner, 2005 Topic Dimension With respect to the topic dimension, soft and hard news can be determined either by the extent to which the political relevance is made clear within the article (e.g., Reinemann et al., 2012) or by the distinction between topics (e.g., Steiner, 2016). Most studies use the latter option with politics (and sometimes economics as well) being considered hard news and topics such as sports and celebrity news being considered soft news. Topic Dimension, Indicator 1: political relevance (Reinemann et al., 2012) Information on Reinemann et al., 2012 Authors: Carsten Reinemann, James Stanyer, Sebastian Scherr, Guido Legnante Research question: This study is a meta-analysis that wants to find out 1) how different studies define news softening and 2) which dimensions and indicators are most often used to measure news softening. As a result, the paper suggests three important dimensions (topic, focus, style) and concrete indicators and operationalizations to measure these dimensions. Object of analysis: 24 studies Info about variable “Four aspects are distinguished that indicate the degree of political relevance of a news item: (1) societal actors, (2) decision-making authorities, (3) policy plan and (4) actors concerned. For each of those aspects the presence (1) or non-presence (0) is coded.” (Reinemann et al. 2012, p. 237) “Two or more societal actors that disagree on a societal issue (e.g., two parties, a party and an NGO, voters and politicians, employers and trade unions). Decision-making authorities (legislative, executive, judiciary) that are or could be involved in the generally binding decision about that societal issue. The substance of a planned or realized decision, measure, programme that relates to the issue. The persons or groups concerned by the planned or realized decisions, measures, programmes.” (Reinemann et al., 2012, p. 237) Variable name: political relevance Level of analysis: article Values: 0) not present; 1) present Level of measurement: nominal Reliability: Variable was not tested within this study. Codebook (in the appendix of the paper, p. 237-238) available under: DOI: 10.1177/1464884911427803 Topic Dimension, Indicator 2: topic (Steiner, 2016) Information on Steiner, 2016 Authors: Miriam Steiner Research question: The study investigates the news softening of German public service and commercial political news on TV and on Facebook. Object of analysis: ARD Tagesschau (TV); ZDF heute (TV); Sat.1 Nachrichten (TV); RTL Aktuell (TV); ARD Tagesschau (Facebook); ZDF heute (Facebook); Sat.1 Nachrichten (Facebook); RTL Aktuell (Facebook) Time frame of analysis: artificial week in 2014 (April, 10 – October, 10) Info about the variable Variable name: Thema (kategorisiert)/ Ressort [Topic (categorized)/ (newspaper) section] Level of analysis: article Values (in German): 101-247) Politik [politics]; 310-399) Wirtschaft [economics] ? defined as “hard news” 900) Unfall/Katastrophe [accident, catastrophe]; 1000-1010) Kriminalität [crime]; 1100) human interest; 1200) Sport [sports] ? defined as “soft news” Level of measurement: nominal Reliability: one coder; intra-coder-reliability: 0.81 (Krippendorff’s Alpha), 83.3% (Holsti) Codebook attached (in German) Focus Dimension According to this dimension, hard and soft news can be distinguished by the framing of the article. Reinemann et al. (2012) hereby differentiate between 1) episodic (soft) vs. thematic (hard) framing and 2) individual (soft) vs. societal (hard) framing. Focus Dimension, Indicator 1: episodic vs. thematic framing (Reinemann et al., 2012: for information about the study, see above) “Here, the focus of a news item as related to the accentuation of episodes or themes is coded. Episodically focused news items present an issue by offering a specific example, case study, or event oriented report, e.g., covering unemployment by presenting a story on the plight of a particular unemployed person […]” (Reinemann et al. 2012, p. 238) Variable name: episodic – thematic framing Level of analysis: article Values: 0) pure or predominant episodic framing; 1) mixed episodic and thematic framing; 2) pure or predominant thematic framing Level of measurement: ordinal Reliability: Variable was not tested within this study. Codebook (in the appendix of the paper, p. 237-238) available under: DOI: 10.1177/1464884911427803 Focus Dimension, Indicator 2: individual vs. societal framing (Reinemann et al., 2012: for information about the study, see above) “Here, the focus of a news item as related to the accentuation of personal or societal relevance is coded. Individually focused news stress [sic!] the personal, private meaning or consequences of the incidents, developments, decisions etc. reported about for members of society. […]” (Reinemann et al. 2012, p. 237) Variable name: individual – societal relevance Level of analysis: article Values: 0) pure or predominant focus on individual relevance/ consequences; 1) mixed attention to individual and societal relevance/ consequences; 2) pure or predominant focus on societal relevance/ consequences Level of measurement: ordinal Reliability: Variable was not tested within this study. Codebook (in the appendix of the paper, p. 237-238) available under: DOI: 10.1177/1464884911427803 Style Dimension This dimension is about how news is presented. Studies thereon analyse different indicators with 1) emotional reporting being most frequently used. Besides, studies refer to 2) personal reporting (i.e., the presence of the journalist’s point of view), colloquial/ loose language, 3) narrative presentation or 4) emphasis on conflicts as indicators of a soft news style. Style Dimension, Indicator 1: emotional reporting Most studies measure emotional reporting with the help of only one variable (usually a multi-level scale) (e.g., Reinemann et al., 2012). Alternatively, one can further distinguish (Magin & Stark, 2015) between verbal style (linguistic features such as strong adjectives and superlatives or emotional metaphors) and visual style (showing emotions in pictures) (e.g., Leidenberger, 2015). Style Dimension, Indicator 1: emotional reporting (Reinemann et al., 2012: for information about the study, see above) “Here, the journalistic style of a news item as related to the emotional presentation of information is coded. […] Emotional news items use verbal, visual or auditive means that potentially arouse or amplify emotions among audience members. This can be done, for example, (a) by dramatizing events, i.e. presenting them as exceptional, exciting, or thrilling; (b) by affective wording and speech, e.g. superlatives, strong adjectives, present tense in the description of past events, pronounced accentuation; (c) by reporting on or visually presenting explicit expressions of emotions (e.g., hurt, anger, fear, distress, joy) […]” (Reinemann et al. 2012, p. 238) Variable name: emotional – unemotional reporting Level of analysis: article Values: 0) purely or predominantly emotional; 1) mix of emotional and unemotional elements; 2) purely or predominantly unemotional Level of measurement: ordinal Reliability: Variable was not tested within this study. Codebook (in the appendix of the paper, p. 237-238) available under: DOI: 10.1177/1464884911427803 Style Dimension, Indicator 2: personal reporting (Reinemann et al., 2012: for information about the study, see above) “Here, the journalistic style of a news item as related to the explicit appearance of journalists’ personal points of view is concerned. It is coded whether a news item includes explicit statements of the reporting [sic!] journalists’ personal impressions, interpretations, points of view or opinions. […]” (Reinemann et al. 2012, p. 238) Variable name: personal – impersonal reporting Level of analysis: article Values: 0) purely or predominantly personal; 1) mix of personal and impersonal elements; 2) purely or predominantly impersonal Level of measurement: ordinal Reliability: Variable was not tested within this study. Codebook (in the appendix of the paper, p. 237-238) available under: DOI: 10.1177/1464884911427803 Style Dimension, Indicator 3: colloquial/ loose language (Steiner, 2016: for information about the study, see above) The variable measures the degree of colloquial language on a 3-point-scale, ranging from 0 (not colloquial at all) to 2 (very colloquial). Variable name: Umgangssprache/ Lockerheit der Sprache [colloquial/ loose language] Level of analysis: article Values: 0) gar nicht umgangssprachlich; 1) wenig umgangssprachlich; 2) stark umgangssprachlich Level of measurement: ordinal Reliability: one coder; intra-coder-reliability: 0.72 (Krippendorff’s Alpha), 88.9% (Holsti, nominal) Codebook attached (in German) Style Dimension, Indicator 4: narrative presentation (Donsbach & Büttner, 2005) Information on Donsbach & Büttner, 2005 Author: Wolfang Donsbach, Katrin Büttner Research question/ Research interest: The study examines the presentation of political news coverage in the most important public service and commercial main German newscasts in 1983, 1990 and 1998 with the aim of revealing changes in the presentation of politics and the extent to which there are convergent trends (? tabloidization). Object of analysis: news on national politics within four German newscasts: 1) Tagesschau (ARD), ZDF heute, Sat.1 Blick/18.30, RTL Aktuell (in 1983: only Tagesschau and ZDF heute) Time frame of analysis: for each year, every second day within the last four weeks before election day was analysed: 1) February 7, 1983 to March 6, 1983 (March 6, 1983 = election day); November 5, 1990 to December 2, 1990 (December 2, 1990 = election day); August 31, 1998 to September 27, 1998 (September 27, 1998 = election day) Info about variable: news pyramid vs. narration This variable is used to measure whether news is presented in terms of the “inverted news pyramid” (that is, answering the important W-questions at the beginning) or whether the journalist tells a story. This variable is measured on a 5-point-scale ranging from -2) (news pyramid) to 2) narration. Variable names: Nachrichtenpyramide vs. Narration [news pyramid vs. narration] Level of analysis: article Values: -2) Nachrichtenpyramide; -1); 0) neither/nor; 1); 2) narration Level of measurement: ordinal Reliability: four coders, reliability: N.A. Codebook (in German) available under: http://donsbach.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/12/Codebuch_TV-Nachrichten.pdf Style Dimension, Indicator 5: emphasis on conflicts (Donsbach & Büttner, 2005: for information about the study, see above) The variable measures whether conflicts are mentioned or not (=9). The variable also distinguishes between implicit (=1; conflict is apparent, but not openly addressed) and explicit (=2; conflict is openly addressed) conflicts. Variable names: Konflikthaltigkeit [conflicts] Level of analysis: article Values: 1) impliziter Konflikt; 2) expliziter Konflikt; 9) kein Konflikt Level of measurement: nominal Reliability: four coders, reliability: N.A. Codebook (in German) available under: http://donsbach.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/12/Codebuch_TV-Nachrichten.pdf References Bernhard, U. (2012). Infotainment in der Zeitung: Der Einfluss unterhaltungsorientierter Gestaltungsmittel auf die Wahrnehmung und Verarbeitung politischer Informationen [Infotainment in the newspaper: The influence of entertainment-oriented style elements on the perception and processing of political information]. Baden-Baden: Nomos. Donsbach, W., & Büttner, K. (2005). Boulevardisierungstrend in deutschen Fernsehnachrichten [Tabloidization trend in German TV news]. Publizistik, 50(1), 21–38. Entman, R. M. (1993). Framing: Toward clarification of a fractured paradigm. Journal of Communication, 43(4), 51–58. Esser, F. (1999). `Tabloidization’ of news: A comparative analysis of Anglo-American and German press journalism. European Journal of Communication, 14(3), 291-324. Grabe, M. E., Lang, A., & Zhao, X. (2003). News content and form: Implications for memory and audience evaluations. Communication Research, 30(4), 387-413. Iyengar, S. (1991). Is anyone responsible? How television frames political issues. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Karlsson, M. B. (2016). Goodbye politics, hello lifestyle. Changing news topics in tabloid, quality and local newspaper websites in the U.K. and Sweden from 2002 to 2012. Observatorio, 10(4), 150-165. Lefkowitz, J. (2018). “Tabloidization” or dual-convergence: Quoted speech in tabloid and “quality” British newspapers 1970–2010. Journalism Studies, 19(3), 353-375. Leidenberger, J. (2015). Boulevardisierung von Fernsehnachrichten: Eine Inhaltsanalyse deutscher und französischer Hauptnachrichtensendungen [Tabloidization of TV news: A content analysis comparing German and French main newscasts]. Wiesbaden: VS. Lischka, J. A. (2018). Logics in social media news making: How social media editors marry the Facebook logic with journalistic standards. Journalism. Advanced online publication. DOI: 10.1177/1464884918788472 Lischka, J. A., & Werning, M. (2017). Wie Facebook den Regionaljournalismus verändert: Publiku*ms- und Algorithmusorientierung bei der Facebook-Themenselektion von Regionalzeitungen [How Facebook alters regional journalism: Audience and algorithm orientation in the Facebook topic selection of regional newspapers]. kommunikation@gesellschaft, 18. Magin, M. (2019). Attention, please! Structural influences on tabloidization of campaign coverage in German and Austrian elite newspapers (1949–2009). Journalism, 20(12), 1704–1724. Magin, M., & Stark, B. (2015). Explaining National Differences of Tabloidisation Between Germany and Austria. Journalism Studies, 16(4), 577–595. Magin, M., Steiner, M., Häuptli, A., Stark, B., & Udris, L. (in press). Is Facebook driving tabloidization? In M. Conboy & S. A. Eldridge II (Eds.), Global Tabloid: Culture and Technology. Routledge. Reinemann, C., Stanyer, J., Scherr, S., & Legnante, G. (2012). Hard and soft news: A review of concepts, operationalizations and key findings. Journalism, 13(2), 221–239. Steiner, M. (2016). Boulevardisierung goes Facebook? Ein inhaltsanalytischer Vergleich politischer Nachrichten von tagesschau, heute, RTL Aktuell und Sat.1 Nachrichten im Fernsehen und auf Facebook [Tabloidization goes Facebook? A Comparative Content Analysis of the News Quality of Tagesschau, heute, RTL Aktuell und Sat.1 on TV and on Facebook]. In L. Leißner, H. Bause & L. Hagemeyer (Eds.), Politische Kommunikation – neue Phänomene, neue Perspektiven, neue Methoden (pp. 27-46). Berlin: Frank & Timme.

Abstract:

This article reflects upon the process of the making and screening of an interactive short film called Textual @traction, which I wrote and directed. The film is 12 minutes long, 35mm film, and shows how a series of messages sent to a lost mobile phone inadvertently allows two gay men to declare their love for each other. In the form of a puzzle, the film denies sight of the crucial messages sent between the characters, messages which motivate their actions. However, through the simple use of SMS (Short Message System) text technology, the audience can receive each of these messages on their own mobile phones as they watch the film in the cinema. Billed as an interactive event with prior information for audience telephone registration, the film has been screened at cinemas, film festivals, and conferences as well as on broadcast television. To receive the text messages during the film, the phone owner is asked to send a message before the screening to a five-digit number that registers their telephone for the event. If audience members do not have a mobile phone, they must share with another audience member or try to solve the puzzle of the film without messages. Messages are sent to audience members’ mobile/cell phones from a laptop computer by a bulk SMS delivery programme, via an SMS gateway, directly to the appropriate national mobile telephone network provider, guaranteeing split-second accuracy. When appropriate and depending on the location of the screening, audience members can also choose the language of the messages when they register. Textual @traction was nominated for UK BAFTA Interactive Award 2005 and won the Best New Media: Interactive Award at the Celtic Film Festival 2005. It has been shown in a number of international film festivals, including the International Festival of New Film, in Split, Croatia 2004; the International Short Film Festival in Los Angeles 2005(Academy-listed); and the Atlantic Film Festival, Halifax, Nova Scotia, 2005. It had its broadcast premier, and world-first for an interactive film, on S4C (Sianel Pedwar Cymru), the Welsh Language Channel with its Welsh title, ‘Caru T x’, on 25 Jan. 2006. This article addresses the audience’s experience of this interactive event, speculating on the relative audience/user positions inherent in the two technologies (cinema and mobile telephone) and on whether or not their combination can be described as a collaboration. Underpinning this speculation is the assumption that modes of representation and communication construct the subject/user in specific ways and that the Textual @traction interactive event requires of the audience member to occupy both the position of cinema viewer and of phone user alternately during the event if they are to ‘complete’ the fiction. Following on from this assumption, I have set out a number of oppositions: Live/Dead, Social/Individual, Intimate/Anonymous, and Passive/Active, against which the differences between the two technologies and the ways they construct the viewer/user are posited. These polarities also allow exploration of the various aspects of the suspension of disbelief assumed by the viewer of the film and whether the interruption to the flow of images and sounds on the cinema screen by the actions required of the viewer to retrieve and read the telephone messages dismantles that suspension by spoiling the viewer’s identification with the characters, undermining their assumptions governing the world of the film, and shattering its temporal and spatial coherence. As writer and director of the film, my initial intention was not to set out to explore these questions at all. Once the story took shape and I saw the possibility that the only dialogue in the film was that delivered by text message, it was a short step (albeit, initially, a frivolous one!) to investigate the possibility of delivering those messages to the audience during the screening of the film. I dislike reading diegetic written text on the cinema screen, believing it to be a betrayal of cinema’s essential qualities: it is a medium of pictures and sounds, not words. Of course, once it became clear that it was going to be possible to send time-specific messages to the audience members, enabling them to simultaneously read the very same message the character on screen is reading, I soon became intrigued by the potential effect this would have on the audience. Would it ‘deepen’ the process of identification with the characters? None of the characters in the film are aware of each other’s identity when they communicate and thus the narrative unfolds with dramatic irony. Would the audience’s resulting privileged knowledge in relation to the characters be enhanced by the film’s interactive dimension, because the characters are ‘unaware’ that the audience members are reading ‘their messages’? The following explores these questions and is, to a large extent, a product of observation and analysis of the interactive event, post-event, and also includes reflection on comments from audience members that have attended the event. Live/Dead Textual @traction has been constructed according to the principles of classic continuity, with every shot contributing to the narrative chain. At the end of the film, there is closure, both the conventional culmination and the objective of the classic (Hollywood) narrative, the classic continuity approach. Textual @traction, like all forms of cinema—whether classic narrative, avant-garde, multi-screen, or home movie—is a record of past events. In this film we engage with re-animated past events at twenty-four still frames a second, willingly suppressing whatever knowledge and awareness of apparatus and artifice we possess. However, while knowledge of a process of construction and presentation are suppressed, there is no necessity for the viewer to believe that the events on screen are happening as we observe them. We know these events are in the past; rather, it is the knowledge of the active arrangement of these discreet, past events (shots, scenes, sequences…) into a natural flow that we necessarily suppress. This is achievable, of course, by our unconscious operation of a complex system that organises this flow into spatial, temporal, and narrative coherence. ‘Film language’ is the term given to this internalised vocabulary we bring to bear on a film to make sense of what we see and hear—modified in each film, some more than others. It allows us to understand spatial and temporal construction, to accept ellipses, parallel action and so on. It is a very complex system, which in classical continuity is mobilised in the service of the story and rendered invisible, so that a film unfolds as if conforming to natural laws (Bazin; Metz; Monaco). I made the decision at an early stage in the development process for Textual @traction that the film would do precisely this. While I wanted the film to be challenging and ‘experimental’, I believed its potential for breaking new ground resided in the realm of the juxtaposition/collaboration of the two technologies and its impact on the viewer’s engagement with the fictional world of the story. The messages would necessarily be disruptive of a mode of presentation that is sacrosanct (at least in mainstream cinema) and I thought the tighter the narrative chain, the more apparent the effects of this juxtaposition/collaboration would be. Disruption does occur when the viewer receives a message (there are eleven in all during the 12 minutes of the film) and it is at these points that the viewer becomes phone user and the recipient of a ‘live’ communication that is time-specific. Technically, each message is sent from the bulk-messaging programme to all the registered phones at the same time so that their arrival coincides with the arrival of the ‘same message’ in the on-screen character’s phone: audience member and on-screen character then read the same message simultaneously. To achieve this, the start time of the computer programme and the start time of the film projection in the cinema have to coincide exactly. One always presumes that text messages sent to our phones originate with a person, even those that are anonymous (news and sports alerts, etc.). The assumption underlying the use of the messages in Textual @traction is that, since according to the classic narrative cinema-effect we ‘become’ each character in order to understand what motivates their actions (identifying most energetically with the protagonist), receiving the same text messages they are receiving and reading them at the same time as they are is consistent with this process of identification, although stretching it to its limits. Crucial to the achievement of identification within the classic continuity approach is the point-of view shot, and it is this element that the messages ‘substitute’ or, perhaps, ‘literalise’ in the film (Bordwell 29-33; Branigan; Gaut 260-270). Conventionally in a film, when a character looks at something that is significant to the story, the look is followed on screen by the point-of-view shot, which shows the audience what is being seen by that character. In Textual @traction, point-of-view shots are deployed in this conventional manner. Moreover, as the main character in the film is a photographer whom we see taking photographs early in the film, the act of looking and the views he sees are, in fact, clearly foregrounded in a number of shot-reverse shot sequences. However, when we see characters looking at their phones and reading the messages they’ve been sent by other characters in the film, these shots are not followed by point-of-view shots that show the messages they are reading. Instead, the spectators in the cinema ‘enact’ their own point-of-view shot as they look at the same message on their phone screens in their hands. In a ‘literal’ sense, the audience members, at these points, ‘become’ the characters. Thus, in Textual @traction there is a two-fold process that reverses the live/dead polarity of cinema. Firstly, the arrival of the message in the audience-member’s phone transforms the past event on the screen to a live one. The suspension of disbelief in the viewer is heightened in order to accept the impossibility of acquiring the same knowledge the people on screen are acquiring, at the same time. Secondly, the viewer in the cinema, when reading the messages, ‘becomes’ the fictional character, performing a live enactment of the point-of view shot that is missing on screen. In both processes, phone technology bestows its live-ness to the dead world of the film—at least momentarily, until rational thought points out its absurdity. Social/Individual While going to the cinema is a social activity, the apparatus of cinema is organised in such a way as to individuate the cinema experience. The combination of the dimming of the auditorium lights to darkness and the seating arrangement encourages the viewer to suppress the awareness of others. The experience can then become intensely private. While there are physical and aural constraints on the viewer’s behaviour, imposed mainly to guarantee other viewers’ enjoyment (including, ordinarily, the prohibition of mobile phone use!), once seated and still, the viewer feels entitled to respond to the action on the screen in whatever way appropriate: they can smile, shudder, or weep with impunity. Additionally, the optics of the lens (the cinema projector reproducing the camera’s), in conjunction with the design of the auditorium itself, continues the tradition of Renaissance perspective in providing a single vanishing point that guarantees centrality to each viewer in relation to the scene depicted however many viewers there are in the cinema, wherever they are sitting. As far as the apparatus of cinema is concerned, there is no privileged view of the visual field displayed on the screen; each viewer in the auditorium see the same view, wherever they sit, centred and interpolated individually. Text-messaging is one-to-one communication par excellence. It takes speech telephone privacy one step further: even in a situation where both sender and receiver are in public spaces, surrounded by people, two-way communication can be completely private. When every member of the audience in a screening of Textual @traction receives text messages, they receive them at the same time as everyone else, and they assume they are receiving the same message. Emphasised by the cacophony of (individually-chosen) text alerts as each message reaches its destination within split seconds of each other, the simultaneity and the common address transforms what is usually an individual and private mode of communication into a collective, social one. At the same time, the individuating effect of the cinematic apparatus is undermined. Awareness of their counterparts’ presence returns, the light from individual phone screens illuminate the viewers’/phones users’ faces as they retrieve and read their messages and they look around the auditorium to compare their reactions with those of others. In those moments, the social/individual polarity as it relates to the two technologies is reversed: the phone’s from individual to social; cinema, from individuating to collectivising. Intimate/Anonymous While the apparatus of cinema individuates, the address of cinema is anonymous, making no adjustment for the individual (Baudry; Comolli; De Lauretis). Of course, there is specificity in the address of most cinema: the various genre of commercial film, as well as the varieties of independent and avant-garde films, presume certain audiences and address these audiences on the basis of a shared set of assumptions and expectations. These include individual films’ themes, the forms of narrative (or non-narrative), its variety of characters, the pleasures the films afford, and so on. However, cinema is not discursive. It cannot by ‘adjusted’ to suit the individual. The Intimate/Anonymous polarity is one that draws out the difference between a mode of representation, in this case cinema, and a mode of communication, text messaging. The former presents a completed artefact of some kind while the latter is a technology that allows for discursive activity between sender and receiver. Of course, various forms of interactive art are necessarily making this notion of the ‘artefact’ problematic, allowing the individual viewer to organise and re-organise narratives, modify environments, and create unique assemblages of images and sounds, often enabled by sophisticated computer programmes. During such interaction, individuals may create never-to-be repeated experiences brought about by complex, randomised interfaces. Nevertheless, these are examples of interaction with the artefact and while they may be unique, they are also anonymous. If discursive activity between users is achieved in these circ*mstances then the technology by definition becomes a mode of communication, however mediated by technology or programming. Telephone communication is all about individual address, both in spoken and text language. A text messages is either sent to elicit a response or it is the response. Unless it is an unsolicited, anonymous message, a text message is a specific and personal missive to the individual, its specificity arising from the sender’s knowledge of the receiver. Receiving such text messages during Textual @traction (and because of the sexual tenor of some of the messages, they are especially ‘personal’)—‘sent’ to the audience members ‘unwittingly’ by the individual fictional characters on screen—transforms the address of the film from anonymous to intimate, from general to individual. The intimacy associated with text messaging enhances our identification with the on-screen characters because we are given an insight into their motivations by being (voyeuristically) included what is generally a private discourse. For those who have experienced the Textual @traction interactive event and who have expressed an opinion about it, it does seem that it was this dimension of the experience that was a particular source of pleasure. Passive/Active In mainstream cinema we enter the auditorium and we sit down to face the screen, on which the film appears. While we watch and listen we may eat and drink, shout, weep, and laugh. We can also leave if we disapprove of the film or of the behaviour of others around us. While all these activities (and more) are possible, none will impact on what is happening on the screen, nor, crucially, on the flow of information that constructs our understanding of the characters’ actions and the narrative in general. In this respect, as an audience, we are effectively passive. The receiving of messages during Textual @traction invites the audience to collaborate actively in the final form of the narrative that is the interactive event, completing the fictional world constructed by film and text messages together. The information they receive by text message enhances their understanding of both character motivation and of the narrative in general. Without their activity, the film is a puzzle. Added to the conceptual activity that this involves, there is also the physical activity and the psychological adjustment: when the audience members’ message alert sounds, they have to undertake a number of keystrokes on their keypad in order to bring the message up on the phone screen, then they have to read the message and construe the message’s relevance to the characters on screen, before returning to the cinema-screen element of the event once more. Conclusion There is no doubt that the Textual @traction interactive event strains credulity, or, to put it another way, depends on an enhancement of the suspension of disbelief normally accustomed to by a cinema audience. The notion that on-screen characters are ‘unwittingly’ sending text messages to audience members and that they are reading them ‘at the same time’ is nothing short of absurd. Absurdity and its wilful disregard by the audience, however, is no stranger to cinema, as we know. What I have attempted to do in this paper is to account for the success of the Textual @traction interactive event, despite its absurdity, by identifying three forms of collaboration that it depends on: collaboration with the text in order to complete the fiction, a collaboration between cinema as a mode of representation and messaging as a mode of communication that the audience member enables, and a collaboration between cinema/subject and telephone/subject performed by each audience member. As I have indicated, when these collaborations take place, some of the habitual characteristics of both modes are transformed or modified: text messaging becomes a social rather than a private activity, while the apparatus of cinema transforms from one that individuates to one that collectivises. In addition, the address of cinema, normally anonymous, is bestowed with intimacy by the text messaging, and finally, a normally passive audience is active in their involvement to complete the fiction. References Baudry, Jean-Louis. “Ideological Effects of the Basic Cinematographic Apparatus.” Film Quarterly 28.2 (Winter 1974-5): 39-47. Bazin, André. “The Evolution of the Language of the Cinema.” What Is Cinema? Trans. Hugh Gray. Berkeley: U of California P, 1967. 23-40. Branigan, Edward. “Formal Permutations of the Point-of-View Shot”. Screen 16.3 (1975): 54-64. Bordwell, D., J. Staiger, and K. Thompson. The Classical Hollywood Cinema: Film Style and Mode of Production to 1960. London: Routledge, 1985. Comolli, Jean-Louis. “Technique and Ideology: Camera, Perspective, Depth of Field.” Movies and Methods Vol. II. Ed, Bill Nichols. Berkeley: U of California P, 1985. 40-57. De Lauretis, T., and S. Heath. The Cinematic Apparatus. London: Macmillan, 1980. Gaut, Berys. “Identification and Emotion in Narrative Film.” Philosophy of Film and Motion Pictures: An Anthology. Ed. Noel Carroll and Jinhee Choi. London: Blackwell, 2006. Metz, Christian. Film Language. Trans. Michael Taylor. Oxford: Oxford UP, 1975 [2004]. Monaco, James. How to Read a Film. 3rd ed. Oxford: Oxford UP, 2000. Citation reference for this article MLA Style Morris, Ieuan. "Interruption/Interaction/Collaboration: A Critical Appraisal of the Textual @traction Interactive Event." M/C Journal 9.2 (2006). echo date('d M. Y'); ?> <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0605/15-morris.php>. APA Style Morris, I. (May 2006) "Interruption/Interaction/Collaboration: A Critical Appraisal of the Textual @traction Interactive Event," M/C Journal, 9(2). Retrieved echo date('d M. Y'); ?> from <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0605/15-morris.php>.

Abstract:

As a specialist in culture and communication studies, teaching in a school of business, I realised that the notion of interdisciplinarity is usually explored in the comfort of one's own discipline. Meanwhile, the practice of interdisciplinarity is something else. The very notion of disciplinarity implies a regime of discursive practices, but in the zone between disciplines, there is often no adequate language. This piece of writing is a brief analysis of an example of the language of business studies when business studies thinks about culture. It looks at how business studies approaches cultural difference in context of intercultural contact. Geert Hofstede's Cultures and Organizations: Software of the Mind (1991) This article is a brief and very selective critique of Geert Hofstede's notion of culture in Cultures and Organizations: Software of the Mind. Hofstede has been publishing his work on cross-cultural management since the 1960s. His work is routinely used in reference to cross/multi/intercultural issues in business studies (a term I use to include commerce, finance, management, and marketing). Before I begin, I must insist that Hofstede's Cultures and Organizations: Software of the Mind is a very useful text for business studies students, as it introduces them to useful concepts in relation to culture, like culture shock, acculturation (not enculturation -- I suppose managers are repatriated before that happens), and training for successful cross-cultural communication. It is worth including here a brief note on the subtitle of Cultures and Organizations: Software of the Mind. This "software of the mind" is clearly analogous to computer programming. However, Hofstede disavows the analogy, which is central to his thesis, saying that people are not programmed the way computers are. So they are, but not really. Hofstede claims that in order to learn something different, one "must unlearn ... (the) ... patterns of thinking, feeling, and potential acting which were learned throughout (one's) lifetime". And it is this thinking/feeling/acting function he calls the "software of the mind" (4). So, is the body the hardware? Thinking and feeling are abstract and could, with a flight of fancy, be seen as "software". However, acting is visible, tangible, and often visceral. I am suggesting that "acting" either represents or is just about all we have as culture. Acting (in the fullest sense, including speech, gesture, manners, textual production, etc.) is not evidence of culture, it is culture. Also, computer technology, like every other technology, is part of culture, as evident in this journal. Culture I share Clifford Geertz's concept of culture as a semiotic one, where interpretation is a search for meaning, and where meaning lies in social relations. Geertz writes that to claim that culture consists in brute patterns of behaviour in some identifiable community is to reduce it (the community and the notion of culture). Human behaviour is symbolic action. Culture is not just patterned conduct, a frame of mind which points to some sort of ontological status. Culture is public, social, relational, and contextual. To quote Geertz: "culture is not a power, something to which social events, behaviours, institutions, or processes can be causally attributed; it is a context" (14). Culture is not an ontological essence or set of behaviours. Culture is made up of webs of relationships. That Hofstede locates culture in the mind is probably the most problematic aspect of his writing. Culture is difficult for any discipline to describe because different disciplines have their own view of social reality. They operate in their own paradigms. Hofstede uses a behaviourist psychological approach to culture, which looks at what he calls national character and typical behaviours. Even though Hofstede is aware of being, as an observer of human behaviour, an integral part of his object of analysis (other cultures), he nevertheless continuously equates the observed behaviour to particular kinds of national thinking and feeling where national is often collapsed into cultural. Hofstede uses an empirical behaviourist paradigm which measures certain behaviours, as if the observer is outside the cultural significance attributed to behaviours, and attributes them to culture. Hofstede's Notion of Culture Hofstede's work is based on quantitative data gathered from questionnaires administered to IBM corporation employees in various countries. He looked at 72 national subsidiaries, 38 occupations, 20 languages, and at two points in time (1968 and 1972), and continued his commentary on that data into the 1990s. He claims that because the entire sample has a common corporate culture, the only thing that can account for systematic and consistent differences between national groups within a hom*ogeneous multinational organisation is nationality itself. It is as if corporate culture is outside, has nothing to do with, national culture (itself a complex and dynamic concept). Hofstede's work does not account for the fact that IBM is an American multinational corporation and, as such, whatever attributes are used to measure cultural difference, those found in American corporate culture will set the benchmark for whatever other cultures are measured. This view is supported in business studies in general where American management practices are seen as universal and normal, even when they are described as 'Western'. The areas Hofstede's IBM survey looked at are: 1. Social inequality, including the relationship with authority (also described as power distance); 2. The relationship between the individual and the group (also described as individualism versus collectivism); 3. Concepts of masculinity and femininity: the social implications of having been born as a boy or a girl (also described as masculinity versus femininity); 4. Ways of dealing with uncertainty, relating to the control of aggression and the expression of emotions (also described as uncertainty avoidance). These concepts are in themselves culturally specific and have become structurally embedded in organisational theory. Hofstede writes that these four dimensions of culture are aspects of culture that can be measured relative to other cultures. What these four dimensions actually do is not to combine to give us a four-dimensional (complex?) appreciation of culture. Rather, they map onto each other and reinforce a politically conservative, Eurocentric view of culture. Hofstede does admit to having had "a 'Western' way of thinking", but he inevitably goes back to "the mind" as a place or goal. He refers to a questionnaire composted by "Eastern', in this case Chinese minds ... [which] ... are programmed according to their own particular cultural framework" (171). So there is this constant reference to culturally programmed minds that determine certain behaviours. In his justification of using typologies to categorise people and their behaviour (minds?) Hofstede also admits that most people / cultures are hybrids. And he admits that rules are made arbitrarily in order to classify people / cultures (minds?). However, he insists that the statistical clusters he ends up with are an empirical typology. Such a reduction of "culture" to this kind of radical realism is absolutely anatomical and enumerative. And, the more Hofstede is quoted as an authority on doing business across cultures, the more truth value his work accrues. The sort of language Hofstede uses to describe culture attributes intrinsic meanings and, as a result, points to difference rather than diversity. Languages of difference are based on binaristic notions of masculine/feminine, East/West, active/passive, collective/individual, and so on. In this opposition of activity and passivity, the East (feminine, collectivist) is the weaker partner of the West (masculine, individualist). There is a nexus of knowledge and power that constructs cultural difference along such binaristic lines. While a language of diversity take multiplicity as a starting point, or the norm, Hofstede's hegemonic and instrumentalist language of difference sees multiplicity as problematic. This problem is flagged at the very start of Cultures and Organizations. 12 Angry Men: Hofstede Interprets Culture and Ignores Gender In the opening page of Cultures and Organizations there is a brief passage from Reginald Rose's play 12 Angry Men (1955). (For a good review of the film see http://www.film.u- net.com/Movies/Reviews/Twelve_Angry.html. The film was recently remade.) Hofstede uses it as an example of how twelve different people with different cultural backgrounds "think, feel and act differently". The passage describes a confrontation between what Hofstede refers as "a garage owner" and "a European-born, probably Austrian, watchmaker". Such a comparison flags, right from the start, a particular way of categorising and distinguishing between two people, in terms of visible and audible signs and symbols. Both parties are described in terms of their occupation. But then the added qualification of one of the parties as being "European-born, probably Austrian" clearly indicates that the unqualified party places him in the broad category "American". In other words, the garage owner's apparently neutral ethnicity implies a normative "American", against which all markers of cultural difference are measured. Hofstede is aware of this problem. He writes that "cultural relativism does not imply normlessness for oneself, nor for one's society" (7). However, he still uses the syntax of binaristic classification which repeats and perpetuates the very problems he is apparently addressing. One of the main factors that makes 12 Angry Men such a powerful drama is that each man carries / inscribes different aspects of American culture. And American culture is idealised in the justice system, where rationality and consensus overcomes prejudice and social pressure. Each man has a unique make-up, which includes class, occupation, ethnicity, personality, intelligence, style and experience. But 12 Angry Men is also an interesting exploration of masculinity. Because Hofstede has included a category of "masculine/feminine" in his study of national culture, it is an interesting oversight that he does not comment on this powerful element of the drama. People identify along various lines, in terms of ethnicities, languages, histories, sexuality, politics and nationalism. Most people do have multiple and varied aspects to their identity. However, Hofstede sees multiple lines of identification as causing "conflicting mental programs". Hofstede claims that identification on the gender level of his hierarchy is determined "according to whether a person was born as a girl or as a boy" (10). Hofstede misses the crucial point that whilst whether one is born female or male determines one's sex, whether one is enculturated as and identifies as feminine or masculine indicates one's gender. Sex and gender are not the same thing. Sex is biological (natural) and gender is ideological (socially constructed and naturalised). This sort of blindness to the ideological component of identity is a fundamental flaw in Hofstede's thesis. Hofstede takes ideological constructions as given, as natural. For example, in endnote 1 of Chapter 4, "He, she, and (s)he", he writes "My choice of the terms (soft feminine and hard masculine) is based on what is in virtually all societies, not on what anybody thinks should be (107, his italics). He reinforces the notion of gendered essences, or essences which constitute national identity. Indeed, the world is not made up of entities or essences that are masculine or feminine, Western or Eastern, active or passive. And the question is not so much about empirical accuracy along such lines, but rather what are the effects of always reinscribing cultures as Western or Eastern, masculine or feminine, collectivist or individualist. In an era of globalism and mass, interconnected communication, identities are multiple, and terms like East and West, masculine and feminine, active and passive, should be used as undecidable codes that, at the most, flag fragments of histories and ideologies. Identity East and West are concepts that did not come out of a political or cultural vacuum. They are categories, or concepts, that originated and flourished with European expansionism from the 17th century. They underwrote imperialism and colonisation. They are not inert labels that merely point to something "out there". East and West, like masculine and feminine or any other binary pair, indicate an imaginary relationship that prioritises one of the pair over the other. People and cultures cannot be separated into static Western and Eastern essences. Culture itself is always diverse and dynamic. It is marked by migration, diaspora, and exile, not to mention historical change. There are no "original" cultures. The sort of discourse Hofstede uses to describe cultures is based on an ontological and epistemological distinction made between East and West. Culture is not something invisible or intangible. Culture is not something obscure that is in the mind (whatever or wherever that is) which manifests itself in peculiar behaviours. Culture is what and how we communicate, whether that takes the form of speech, gestures, novels, plays, architecture, style, or art. And, as such, communication includes the objects we produce and exchange and the symbols to which we give meaning. So, when Hofstede writes that the Austrian watchmaker acts the way he does because he cannot behave otherwise. After many years in his new home country, he still behaves the way he was raised. He carries within himself an indelible pattern of behaviour he is attributing a whole range of qualities which are frequently given by dominant cultures to their cultural "others" (1). Hofstede attributes politeness, tradition, and, above all, stasis, to the European-Austrian watchmaker. The phrase "after many years in his new home country" is contradictory. If so many years have passed, why is "home" still "new"? And, indeed, the watchmaker might still behave the way he was raised, but it would be safe to assume that the garage owner also behaves the way he was raised. One of the main points made in 12 Angry Men is that twelve American men are all very different to each other in terms of values and behaviour. All this is represented in the dialogue and behaviour of twelve men in a closed room. If we are concerned with different kinds of social behaviour, and we are not concerned with pathological behaviour, then how can we know what anyone carries within themselves? Why do we want to know what anyone carries within themselves? From a cultural studies perspective, the last question is political. However, from a business studies perspective, that question is naïve. The radical economic rationalist would want to know as much as possible about cultural differences so that we can better target consumer groups and be more successful in cross-cultural negotiations. In colonial days, foreigners often wielded absolute power in other societies and they could impose their rules on it [sic]. In these postcolonial days, foreigners who want to change something in another society will have to negotiate their interventions. (7) Those who wielded absolute power in the colonies were the non-indigenous colonisers. It was precisely the self-legitimating step of making a place a colony that ensured an ongoing presence of the colonising power. The impetus behind learning about the Other in the colonial times was a combination of spiritual salvation (as in the "mission civilisatrice") and economic exploitation (colonies were seen as resources for the benefit of the European and later American centres). And now, the impetus behind learning about cultural difference is that "negotiation is more likely to succeed when the parties concerned understand the reasons for the differences in viewpoints" (7). Culture as Commerce What, in fact, happens, is that business studies simultaneously wants to "do" components of cross-cultural studies, as it is clearly profitable, while shunning the theoretical discipline of cultural studies. A fundamental flaw in a business studies perspective, which is based on Hofstede's work, is a blindness to the ideological and historical component of identity. Business studies has picked up just enough orientalism, feminism, marxism, deconstruction and postcolonialism to thinly disavow any complicity with dominant (and dominating) discourses, while getting on with business-as-usual. Multiculturalism and gender are seen as modern categories to which one must pay lip service, only to be able to get on with business-as-usual. Negotiation, compromise and consensus are desired not for the sake of success in civil processes, but for the material value of global market presence, acceptance and share. However, civil process and commercial interests are not easily separable. To refer to a cultural economy is not just to use a metaphor. The materiality of business, in the various forms of commercial transactions, is itself part of one's culture. That is, culture is the production, consumption and circulation of objects (including less easily definable objects, like performance, language, style and manners). Also, culture is produced and consumed socially (in the realm of the civil) and circulates through official and unofficial social and commercial mechanisms. Culture is a material and social phenomenon. It's not something hidden from view that only reveals itself in behaviours. Hofstede rightly asserts that culture is learned and not inherited. Human nature is inherited. However, it is very difficult to determine exactly what human nature is. Most of what we consider to be human nature turns out to be, upon close inspection, ideological, naturalised. Hofstede writes that what one does with one's human nature is "modified by culture" (5). I would argue that whatever one does is cultural. And this includes taking part in commercial transactions. Even though commercial transactions (including the buying and selling of services) are material, they are also highly ritualistic and highly symbolic, involving complex forms of communication (verbal and nonverbal language). Culture as Mental Programming Hofstede's insistent ontological reference to 'the sources of one's mental programs' is problematic for many reasons. There is the constant ontological as well as epistemological distinction being made between cultures, as if there is a static core to each culture and that we can identify it, know what it is, and deal with it. It is as if culture itself is a knowable essence. Even though Hofstede pays lip service to culture as a social phenomenon, saying that "the sources of one's mental programs lie within the social environments in which one grew up and collected one's life experiences" (4), and that past theories of race have been largely responsible for massive genocides, he nevertheless implies a kind of biologism simply by turning the mind (a radical abstraction) into something as crude as computer software, where data can be stored, erased or reconfigured. In explaining how culture is socially constructed and not biologically determined, Hofstede says that one's mental programming starts with the family and goes on through the neighbourhood, school, social groups, the work place, and the community. He says that "mental programs vary as much as the social environments in which they were acquired", which is nothing whatsoever like computer software (4-5). But he carries on to claim that "a customary term for such mental software is culture" (4, my italics). Before the large-scale changes which took place in the second half of the twentieth century in disciplines like anthropology, history, linguistics, and psychology, culture was seen to be a recognisable, determined, contained, consistent way of living which had deep psychic roots. Today, any link between mental processes and culture (formerly referred to as "race") cannot be sustained. We must be cautious against presuming to understand the relationship between mental process and social life and also against concluding that the content of the mind in each racial (or, if you like, ethnic or cultural) group is of a peculiar kind, because it is this kind of reductionism that feeds stereotypes. And it is the accumulation of knowledge about cultural types that implies power over the very types that are thus created. Conclusion A genuinely interdisciplinary approach to communication, commerce and culture would make business studies more theoretical and more challenging. And it would make cultural studies take commerce more seriously, beyond a mere celebration of shopping. This article has attempted to reveal some of the cracks in how business studies accounts for cultural diversity in an age of global commercial ambitions. It has also looked at how Hofstede's writings, as exemplary of the business studies perspective, papers over those cracks with a very thin layer of pluralist cultural relativism. This article is an invitation to open up a critical dialogue which dares to go beyond disciplinary traditionalisms in order to examine how meaning, communication, culture, language and commerce are embedded in each other. References Carothers, J.C. Mind of Man in Africa. London: Tom Stacey, 1972. Degabriele, Maria. Postorientalism: Orientalism since "Orientalism". Ph.D. Thesis. Perth: Murdoch University, 1997. Geertz, Clifford. The Interpretation of Cultures: Selected Essays. New York: Basic Books, 1973. Hofstede, Geert. Cultures and Organisations: Software of the Mind. Sydney: McGraw-Hill, 1991. Moore, Charles A., ed. The Japanese Mind: Essentials of Japanese Philosophy and Culture. Honolulu: East-West Centre, U of Hawaii, 1967. Patai, Raphael. The Arab Mind. New York: Scribner, 1983. Toffler, Alvin. Future Shock: A Study of Mass Bewildernment in the Face of Accelerating Change. Sydney: Bodley Head, 1970. 12 Angry Men. Dir. Sidney Lumet. Orion-Nova, USA. 1957. Citation reference for this article MLA style: Maria Degabriele. "Business as Usual: How Business Studies Thinks Culture." M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 3.2 (2000). [your date of access] Chicago style: Maria Degabriele, "Business as Usual: How Business Studies Thinks Culture," M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 3, no. 2 (2000), ([your date of access]). APA style: Maria Degabriele. (2000) Business as usual: how business studies thinks culture. M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 3(2). ([your date of access]).

Abstract:

I. The early twentieth century may seem, at first glance, a strange place to begin a survey of attitudes towards deafness. At this point, the American Deaf community was just forming, American Sign Language was not yet recognised as a language, and most Americans who did consider deafness thought of it as a disability, an affliction to be pitied. As I will demonstrate, however, modernist writers actually had a great deal of insight into issues central to the experience of many deaf people: physical and visual language. While these writers were not thinking of such language in relation to deafness, their experimentations into the merging of the body and language can offer us fresh perspectives on the potential of manual languages to impact mainstream society today. In the early decades of the twentieth century deafness was becoming visible in new ways, due in large part to the rapid expansion of schools for the deaf. This increased visibility led to increased representation in popular culture. Unfortunately, as Trent Batson and Eugene Bergman point out, these literal portrayals of deafness were predictable and clichéd. According to them, deaf characters in literature functioned almost exclusively “to heighten interest, to represent the plight of the individual in a technocratic society, or simply to express a sense of the absurd” (140). In all of these cases, such characters were presented as pitiable. In the least derogatory accounts, like Isabel Adams’ 1928 Heart of the Woods, characters stoically overcome their “disability,” usually by displaying miraculous proficiency with lip-reading and the ability to assimilate into hearing society. Other texts portray deaf people as grotesques, as in Mary Roberts Rinehart’s 1919 “God’s fool,” or as the butts of jokes, as in Anatole France’s 1926 The Man Who Married a Dumb Wife, a Comedy in Two Acts. Constructed as pathetic and disgusting, deaf characters were used thematically to invoke a sense of revulsion at the unknowable other, at those perceived as languageless and therefore cut off from full access to humanity. Literature was not the only medium in which representations of deaf people were appearing with greater frequency. Early filmmakers also demonstrated a fascination with the idea of deafness. But as John S. Schuchman points out in Hollywood Speaks, as in literature, these portrayals were nearly always one-dimensional. Depicted as mutes, fakers, comically clueless, and deeply unhappy individuals, with few exceptions these characters created a very negative image of deafness. In Siege (1925), for example, a deaf character is driven to suicide by cruel mockery. In The Silent Voice (1915), another deaf character contemplates suicide. In the 1932 version of The Man Who Played God, a deaf character falls into a deep depression, sends away his fiancé, and declares “I am not a man. I am just an empty shell…I am only an animal now” (qtd. in Schuchman 48). Without the solidarity of Deaf culture, community, or pride, these characters become morbidly depressed and alienated; they experience their hearing loss as a subject of shame, and it was this image of deafness that was presented to the public. Despite these unpromising literal references to deafness, however, the early twentieth century does in fact offer intriguing and productive ideas about how we might understand deafness today. In the years separating the beginning of the last century from this one, public perceptions of deafness have undergone a significant shift. Buoyed by developments in American Sign Language research and the political activism of the Deaf President Now movement (1988), Deaf people are increasingly viewed as a linguistic minority with a distinct and valuable cultural identity and history, whose communicative differences have much to teach us about how we all interact with language. Deafness (the capital D signaling the distinction between Deafness as a culture and deafness as an audiological condition) is now understood in many circles as a linguistic difference, rather than as a deficiency. And hearing modernist writers had very interesting things to say about the value of linguistic and communicative difference. Modernists’ interest in communication emerged in large part because the same cultural movement toward linguistic hom*ogenisation that led to the denigration of sign language and the exclusive focus on speech and lip-reading in American deaf education also sought to draw a line around the kinds of language considered acceptable for usage in writing. Many of modernism’s formal innovations developed as responses to the push for conformity that we see evidenced in the thinking behind the Oxford English Dictionary, which was completed between the 1880s and the 1920s—notably the period during which most modernist writers were born and began publishing. The 1858 proposal for the dictionary was, in fact, one of the first instances in which the term “standard language” was used (North 12). A desire to establish “standard language” usage was also the goal of the American Academy of Arts, established in 1916 and dedicated to maintaining the integrity of English. Such projects strove to consolidate American national identity around the standardised use of the English language, thereby eliminating spaces for linguistic and communicative diversity within the national body politic. Within literary circles, many rebelled against both the political and aesthetic underpinnings of this movement by experimenting in increasingly dramatic ways with how written language could represent the fragmentation many associated with modern life. As part of their experimentation, some of these writers attempted to develop the idea of embodied language. While they were ignorant of the actual manual languages used by the deaf, the ways they were thinking outside the box in relation to communication can give us both a new perspective on manual languages and new insights into their relevance to mainstream society today. II. One writer whose poems engaged such themes was the poet Hart Crane. Though he worked during the period we think of as high modernist, publishing major volumes of verse in 1926 and 1930, his work challenges our definitions of modernist poetry. Unlike the sparse language and cynicism of his contemporaries, Crane’s poems were decadent and lush. As Eliza New has noted, “Hart Crane is the American poet of Awe” (184); his work reflected his belief in the power of the written word to change the world. Crane viewed poets as inheritors of an ecstatic tradition of prophesy, to which he hoped his own poems would contribute. It is because of this overflowing of sentiment that Crane frequently found both himself and his work mocked. He was accused of overreaching and falling short of his goals, of being nothing more than what Edward Brunner termed a “splendid failure” in the title of his 1985 book. Critics and ordinary readers alike were frustrated with Crane’s arcane language and convoluted syntax, as well as the fact that each word, each image, in his poems was packed with multiple meanings that made the works impossible to summarise. Far from constituting a failure, however, this tangled web of language was Crane’s way of experimenting with a new form of communication, one that would allow him to access the transformative power of poetry. What makes Crane instructive for our purposes is that he repeatedly linked this new conception of language with embodiment. Driven in part by his sense of feeling, as a gay man, a cultural outsider, he attempted to find at the intersection of words and bodies a new site for both personal and cultural expression, one in which he could play a central role. In “General Aim and Theories,” Crane explains his desire to imagine a new kind of language in response to the conditions of modernity. “It is a terrific problem that faces the poet today—a world that is so in transition from a decayed culture toward a reorganization of human evaluations that there are few common terms, general denominators of speech that are solid enough or that ring with any vibration or spiritual conviction” (218). Later in the same essay, Crane stresses that these new common terms could not be expressed in conventional ways, but would need to constitute “a new word, never before spoken and impossible to actually enunciate” (221). For Crane, such words were “impossible to enunciate” because they were not actually spoken through the mouth, but rather expressed in other ways through the body. In “Voyages,” a six-part poem that appeared in his first book, The White Building, Crane explores the potential of these embodied words. Drawing in the influence of Walt Whitman, the work is an extended meditation on the intersection of languages, bodies, and love. The poem was inspired by his relationship with the merchant seaman Emil Oppfer. In it, embodied language appears as a privileged site of connection between individuals and the world. The first section of “Voyages,” which Crane had originally titled “Poster,” predated the composition of the rest of the poem by several years. It opens with a scene on a beach, “bright striped urchins” (I. 2) playing in the sand with their dog, “flay[ing] each other with sand” (I. 2). The speaker observes them on the border between land and sea. He attempts to communicate to them his sense of the sea’s danger, but is unsuccessful. And in answer to their treble interjectionsThe sun beats lightning on the waves,The waves fold thunder on the sand;And could they hear me I would tell them: O brilliant kids, frisk with your dog,Fondle your shells and sticks, bleachedBy time and the elements; but there is a lineYou must not cross nor ever trust beyond itSpry cordage of your bodies to caressesToo lichen-faithful from too wide a breast.The bottom of the sea is cruel. (I. 6-16) The speaker’s warning is incomprehensible to the children, not because they cannot literally hear him, but because he is unable to present his previous experience with the sea in a way that makes sense to the them. As Evelyn J. Hintz notes, “the child’s mode of communication is alogical and nonsyntactical—‘treble interjections.’ To tell them one would have to speak their language” (323). In the first section of the poem, the speaker is unable to do this, unable to get beyond linear verbal speech or to conceive of alternative modes of conveying his message. This frustrated communication in the first section gives rise to the need for the remaining five, as the poet explores what such alternatives might look like. In sections II through VI, the language becomes more difficult to follow as Crane breaks away from linearity in an attempt to present his newly conceived language on the page. The shift is apparent in the stanza immediately following the first section. –And yet this great wink of eternity,Of rimless floods, unfettered leewardings,Samite sheeted and processioned whereHer undinal vast belly moonward bendsLaughing the wrapt inflections of our love; (II. 1-5). It is not only that Crane’s diction has become more difficult and archaic, which it has, but also that he creates words that exist between two known meanings. “Wrapt,” for example, both visually and aurally calls to mind ‘wrapped’ as well as ‘rapt.’ “Leewardings” points both toward ships and something positioned away from the wind. What it means to be unrestrained or “unfettered” in this position, Crane leaves unclear. Throughout the remainder of the poem, he repeatedly employs these counterintuitive word pairings. Words are often connected not through logic, but through a kind of intuitive leap. As Brian Reed describes it, “the verse can…be said to progress ‘madly…logically,’ satisfying a reader’s intuition, perhaps, but rarely satisfying her or his rage for order” (115). The lines move according to what Crane called a “logic of metaphor” (General 63). Like his curving syntax, which draws the reader into the beautiful melody before pulling back, withholding definitive meaning like the sea’s waves lapping and teasing, Crane’s metaphoric associations endlessly defer definitive meaning. In “Voyages,” Crane associates this proliferation of meaning and lack of linear progression with physicality, with a language more corporeal and visceral that transcends the restrictions of everyday speech. In a letter to Waldo Frank describing the romantic relationship that inspired the poem, Crane declared “I have seen the Word made Flesh. I mean nothing less, and I know now that there is such a thing as indestructibility” (O 186). Throughout “Voyages,” Crane highlights such words made flesh. The sea with whom the speaker seeks to communicate is embodied, given “eyes and lips” (III.12), a “vast belly” (II. 4-5), “shoulders” (II. 16), and “veins” (II. 15). What’s more, it is precisely through the body that communication occurs. “Adagios of islands, O my Prodigal, / Complete the dark confessions her veins spell” (II. 14-15, emphasis mine), the poet entreats. He describes the sea’s “Portending eyes and lips” IV. 12), her “dialogue with eyes” (VI. 23), and declares that “In signature of the incarnate word / The harbor shoulders to resign in mingling / Mutual blood, transpiring as foreknown” (IV. 17-19, emphasis mine). It is only through this wordless communication that the kind of sublime meaning Crane seeks can be transmitted. For him, this “imaged Word” (VI.29) permits access to knowledge that conventional language obscures, knowledge that can only be transmitted through manual connection, as the speaker asks the sea to “Permit me voyage, love, into your hands…” (III.19). Crane saw the proliferation of meanings that he believed accompanied such embodied language as a response against the movement toward a standardisation of language that threatened to edit out modes of communication and identities that did not fit within its confines. As Thomas Yingling notes, “meaning, such as it occurs in Crane, is a process of indeterminacy, is constituted precisely in the abrupt disfigurements and dislocations, in the sudden clarities and semantic possibilities” (30). It was in large part these “semantic possibilities,” these indeterminate and multiple meanings that refused to line up, which led critics to characterise Crane’s work as a “poetics of failure” (Riddel). As later research into sign languages has revealed, however, far from representing a failure of poetic vision, Crane was actually incredibly forward thinking in associating embodied languages with a non-linear construction. Conventional spoken and written languages, those Crane was attempting to complicate, are necessarily linear. Letters and sounds must proceed one after another in order for an utterance to make sense. Manual languages, however, are not bound by this linearity. As Margalit Fox explained nearly a century later in Talking Hands, Because the human visual system is better than the auditory system at processing simultaneous information, a language in the visual mode can exploit this potential and encode its signals simultaneously. This is exactly what all signed languages do. Whereas words are linear strings, signs are compact bundles of data, in which multiple unites of code—handshapes, location and movement—are conveyed in virtually the same moment. (101) Such accounts of actual embodied languages help to explain the frustrating density that attends Crane’s words. Morphologically rich physical languages like the kind Crane was trying to imagine possess the ability for an increased layering of meaning. While limited by the page on which he writes, Crane attempted to create this layered affect through convoluted syntax and deliberately difficult vocabulary which led readers away from both a sense of fixed meaning and from normative standards usually applied to written words. Understanding this rebellion against standardisation is key to the turn in “Voyages.” It is when the speaker figures the sea’s language in conventional terms, when he returns to the more straightforward communication that failed in the first section, that the spell is broken. “What words / Can strangle this deaf moonlight?” (V. 8-9), he asks, and is almost instantly answered when the sea’s language switches for the first time into dialogue. Rather than the passionate and revelatory interaction it had been before, the language becomes banal, an imitation of tired words exchanged by lovers throughout history: “‘There’s // Nothing like this in the world,’ you say” (V. 13-14). “ ‘—And never to quite understand!’” (V. 18). There is “Nothing so flagless as this piracy” (V.20), this loss of meaningful communication, and the speaker bemoans the “Slow tyranny of moonlight, moonlight loved / And changed…” (V. 12-13). With the reversion to conventional language comes the loss of any intimate knowledge of both the sea and the lover. The speaker’s projection of verbal speech onto the sea causes it to “Draw in your head… / Your eyes already in the slant of drifting foam; / Your breath sealed by the ghosts I do not know” (V. 22-24). The imposition of normative language marks the end of the speaker’s experiment with new communicative modes. III. As he demonstrates by situating it in opposition to the enforced standardisation of language, for Crane embodied language—with its non-linear syntax and layered meanings—represented the future in terms of linguistic development. He saw such non-normative languages as having the potential to drastically change the ways human relationality was structured, specifically by creating a new level of intimacy through a merging of the semantic and the physical. In this way, he offers us productive new ways to think about the potential of manual languages, or any other non-normative means of human expression, to fundamentally impact society by challenging our assumptions about how we all relate to one another through language. When asked to define deafness, most people’s first response is to think of levels of hearing loss, of deficiency, or disability. By contrast, Crane’s approach presents a more constructive understanding of what communicative difference can mean. His poem provides an intense mediation on the possibilities of communication through the body, one that subsequent research into signed languages allows us to push even further. Crane believed that communicative diversity was necessary to move language into the next century. From this perspective, embodied language becomes not “merely” the concern of a “disabled” minority but, rather, integral to our understanding of language itself. References Batson, Trent, and Eugene Bergman, eds. Angels and Outcasts: An Anthology of Deaf Characters in Literature. 3rd ed. Washington DC: Gallaudet UP, 1985. Brunner, Edward J. Splendid Failure: Hart Crane and the Making of The Bridge. Champaign: U of Illinois P, 1985. Crane, Hart. “Voyages.” The Complete Poems of Hart Crane: The Centennial Edition. New York: Liveright, 2001. ———. “General Aims and Theories.” Hart Crane: Complete Poems and Selected Letters. Ed. Langdon Hammer. New York: The Library of America, 2006. 160-164. ———. O My Land, My Friends: The Selected Letters of Hart Crane. Eds. Langdon Hammer and Brom Weber. New York: Four Walls Eight Windows, 1997. Fox, Margalit. Talking Hands. New York: Simon and Schuster, 2007. Hinz, Evelyn J. “Hart Crane’s ‘Voyages’ Reconsidered.” Contemporary Literature 13.3 (1972): 315-333. New, Elisa. “Hand of Fire: Crane.” The Regenerate Lyric: Theology and Innovation in American Poetry. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1993. 182-263. North, Michael. The Dialect of Modernism: Race, Language, and Twentieth-Century Literature. Oxford: Oxford UP, 1994. Reed, Brian M. Hart Crane: After His Lights. Tuscaloosa, AL: U of Alabama P, 2006. Riddel, Joseph. “Hart Crane’s Poetics of Failure.” ELH 33.4 (1966): 473-496. Schuchman, John S. Hollywood Speaks: Deafness and the Film Entertainment Industry. Urbana: U of Illinois P, 1988. Yingling, Thomas. Hart Crane and the hom*osexual Text: New Thresholds, New Anatomies. Chicago: U of Chicago P, 1990.

Abstract:

When we think of disability today in the Western world, Christopher Reeve most likely comes to mind. A film star who captured people’s imagination as Superman, Reeve was already a celebrity before he took the fall that would lead to his new position in the fame game: the role of super-crip. As a person with acquired quadriplegia, Christopher Reeve has become both the epitome of disability in Western culture — the powerful cultural myth of disability as tragedy and catastrophe — and, in an intimately related way, the icon for the high-technology quest for cure. The case of Reeve is fascinating, yet critical discussion of Christopher Reeve in terms of fame, celebrity and his performance of disability is conspicuously lacking (for a rare exception see McRuer). To some extent this reflects the comparative lack of engagement of media and cultural studies with disability (Goggin). To redress this lacuna, we draw upon theories of celebrity (Dyer; Marshall; Turner, Bonner, & Marshall; Turner) to explore the production of Reeve as celebrity, as well as bringing accounts of celebrity into dialogue with critical disability studies. Reeve is a cultural icon, not just because of the economy, industrial processes, semiotics, and contemporary consumption of celebrity, outlined in Turner’s 2004 framework. Fame and celebrity are crucial systems in the construction of disability; and the circulation of Reeve-as-celebrity only makes sense if we understand the centrality of disability to culture and media. Reeve plays an enormously important (if ambiguous) function in the social relations of disability, at the heart of the discursive underpinning of the otherness of disability and the construction of normal sexed and gendered bodies (the normate) in everyday life. What is distinctive and especially powerful about this instance of fame and disability is how authenticity plays through the body of the celebrity Reeve; how his saintly numinosity is received by fans and admirers with passion, pathos, pleasure; and how this process places people with disabilities in an oppressive social system, so making them subject(s). An Accidental Star Born September 25, 1952, Christopher Reeve became famous for his roles in the 1978 movie Superman, and the subsequent three sequels (Superman II, III, IV), as well as his role in other films such as Monsignor. As well as becoming a well-known actor, Reeve gained a profile for his activism on human rights, solidarity, environmental, and other issues. In May 1995 Reeve acquired a disability in a riding accident. In the ensuing months, Reeve’s situation attracted a great deal of international attention. He spent six months in the Kessler Rehabilitation Institute in New Jersey, and there gave a high-rating interview on US television personality Barbara Walters’ 20/20 program. In 1996, Reeve appeared at the Academy Awards, was a host at the 1996 Paralympic Games, and was invited to speak at the Democratic National Convention. In the same year Reeve narrated a film about the lives of people living with disabilities (Mierendorf). In 1998 his memoir Still Me was published, followed in 2002 by another book Nothing Is Impossible. Reeve’s active fashioning of an image and ‘new life’ (to use his phrase) stands in stark contrast with most people with disabilities, who find it difficult to enter into the industry and system of celebrity, because they are most often taken to be the opposite of glamorous or important. They are objects of pity, or freaks to be stared at (Mitchell & Synder; Thomson), rather than assuming other attributes of stars. Reeve became famous for his disability, indeed very early on he was acclaimed as the pre-eminent American with disability — as in the phrase ‘President of Disability’, an appellation he attracted. Reeve was quickly positioned in the celebrity industry, not least because his example, image, and texts were avidly consumed by viewers and readers. For millions of people — as evident in the letters compiled in the 1999 book Care Packages by his wife, Dana Reeve — Christopher Reeve is a hero, renowned for his courage in doing battle with his disability and his quest for a cure. Part of the creation of Reeve as celebrity has been a conscious fashioning of his life as an instructive fable. A number of biographies have now been published (Havill; Hughes; Oleksy; Wren). Variations on a theme, these tend to the hagiographic: Christopher Reeve: Triumph over Tragedy (Alter). Those interested in Reeve’s life and work can turn also to fan websites. Most tellingly perhaps is the number of books, fables really, aimed at children, again, on a characteristic theme: Learning about Courage from the Life of Christopher Reeve (Kosek; see also Abraham; Howard). The construction, but especially the consumption, of Reeve as disabled celebrity, is consonant with powerful cultural myths and tropes of disability. In many Western cultures, disability is predominantly understood a tragedy, something that comes from the defects and lack of our bodies, whether through accidents of birth or life. Those ‘suffering’ with disability, according to this cultural myth, need to come to terms with this bitter tragedy, and show courage in heroically overcoming their lot while they bide their time for the cure that will come. The protagonist for this this script is typically the ‘brave’ person with disability; or, as this figure is colloquially known in critical disability studies and the disability movement — the super-crip. This discourse of disability exerts a strong force today, and is known as the ‘medical’ model. It interacts with a prior, but still active charity discourse of disability (Fulcher). There is a deep cultural history of disability being seen as something that needs to be dealt with by charity. In late modernity, charity is very big business indeed, and celebrities play an important role in representing the good works bestowed on people with disabilities by rich donors. Those managing celebrities often suggest that the star finds a charity to gain favourable publicity, a routine for which people with disabilities are generally the pathetic but handy extras. Charity dinners and events do not just reinforce the tragedy of disability, but they also leave unexamined the structural nature of disability, and its associated disadvantage. Those critiquing the medical and charitable discourses of disability, and the oppressive power relations of disability that it represents, point to the social and cultural shaping of disability, most famously in the British ‘social’ model of disability — but also from a range of other perspectives (Corker and Thomas). Those formulating these critiques point to the crucial function that the trope of the super-crip plays in the policing of people with disabilities in contemporary culture and society. Indeed how the figure of the super-crip is also very much bound up with the construction of the ‘normal’ body, a general economy of representation that affects everyone. Superman Flies Again The celebrity of Christopher Reeve and what it reveals for an understanding of fame and disability can be seen with great clarity in his 2002 visit to Australia. In 2002 there had been a heated national debate on the ethics of use of embryonic stem cells for research. In an analysis of three months of the print media coverage of these debates, we have suggested that disability was repeatedly, almost obsessively, invoked in these debates (‘Uniting the Nation’). Yet the dominant representation of disability here was the cultural myth of disability as tragedy, requiring cure at all cost, and that this trope was central to the way that biotechnology was constructed as requiring an urgent, united national response. Significantly, in these debates, people with disabilities were often talked about but very rarely licensed to speak. Only one person with disability was, and remains, a central figure in these Australian stem cell and biotechnology policy conversations: Christopher Reeve. As an outspoken advocate of research on embryonic stem-cells in the quest for a cure for spinal injuries, as well as other diseases, Reeve’s support was enlisted by various protagonists. The current affairs show Sixty Minutes (modelled after its American counterpart) presented Reeve in debate with Australian critics: PRESENTER: Stem cell research is leading to perhaps the greatest medical breakthroughs of all time… Imagine a world where paraplegics could walk or the blind could see … But it’s a breakthrough some passionately oppose. A breakthrough that’s caused a fierce personal debate between those like actor Christopher Reeve, who sees this technology as a miracle, and those who regard it as murder. (‘Miracle or Murder?’) Sixty Minutes starkly portrays the debate in Manichean terms: lunatics standing in the way of technological progress versus Christopher Reeve flying again tomorrow. Christopher presents the debate in utilitarian terms: CHRISTOPHER REEVE: The purpose of government, really in a free society, is to do the greatest good for the greatest number of people. And that question should always be in the forefront of legislators’ minds. (‘Miracle or Murder?’) No criticism of Reeve’s position was offered, despite the fierce debate over the implications of such utilitarian rhetoric for minorities such as people with disabilities (including himself!). Yet this utilitarian stance on disability has been elaborated by philosopher Peter Singer, and trenchantly critiqued by the international disability rights movement. Later in 2002, the Premier of New South Wales, Bob Carr, invited Reeve to visit Australia to participate in the New South Wales Spinal Cord Forum. A journalist by training, and skilled media practitioner, Carr had been the most outspoken Australian state premier urging the Federal government to permit the use of embryonic stem cells for research. Carr’s reasons were as much as industrial as benevolent, boosting the stocks of biotechnology as a clean, green, boom industry. Carr cleverly and repeated enlisted stereotypes of disability in the service of his cause. Christopher Reeve was flown into Australia on a specially modified Boeing 747, free of charge courtesy of an Australian airline, and was paid a hefty appearance fee. Not only did Reeve’s fee hugely contrast with meagre disability support pensions many Australians with disabilities live on, he was literally the only voice and image of disability given any publicity. Consuming Celebrity, Contesting Crips As our analysis of Reeve’s antipodean career suggests, if disability were a republic, and Reeve its leader, its polity would look more plutocracy than democracy; as befits modern celebrity with its constitutive tensions between the demotic and democratic (Turner). For his part, Reeve has criticised the treatment of people with disabilities, and how they are stereotyped, not least the narrow concept of the ‘normal’ in mainstream films. This is something that has directly effected his career, which has become limited to narration or certain types of television and film work. Reeve’s reprise on his culture’s notion of disability comes with his starring role in an ironic, high-tech 1998 remake of Alfred Hitchco*ck’s Rear Window (Bleckner), a movie that in the original featured a photojournalist injured and temporarily using a wheelchair. Reeve has also been a strong advocate, lobbyist, and force in the politics of disability. His activism, however, has been far more strongly focussed on finding a cure for people with spinal injuries — rather than seeking to redress inequality and discrimination of all people with disabilities. Yet Reeve’s success in the notoriously fickle star system that allows disability to be understood and mapped in popular culture is mostly an unexplored paradox. As we note above, the construction of Reeve as celebrity, celebrating his individual resilience and resourcefulness, and his authenticity, functions precisely to sustain the ‘truth’ and the power relations of disability. Reeve’s celebrity plays an ideological role, knitting together a set of discourses: individualism; consumerism; democratic capitalism; and the primacy of the able body (Marshall; Turner). The nature of this cultural function of Reeve’s celebrity is revealed in the largely unpublicised contests over his fame. At the same time Reeve was gaining fame with his traditional approach to disability and reinforcement of the continuing catastrophe of his life, he was attracting an infamy within certain sections of the international disability rights movement. In a 1996 US debate disability scholar David T Mitchell put it this way: ‘He’s [Reeve] the good guy — the supercrip, the Superman, and those of us who can live with who we are with our disabilities, but who cannot live with, and in fact, protest and retaliate against the oppression we confront every second of our lives are the bad guys’ (Mitchell, quoted in Brown). Many feel, like Mitchell, that Reeve’s focus on a cure ignores the unmet needs of people with disabilities for daily access to support services and for the ending of their brutal, dehumanising, daily experience as other (Goggin & Newell, Disability in Australia). In her book Make Them Go Away Mary Johnson points to the conservative forces that Christopher Reeve is associated with and the way in which these forces have been working to oppose the acceptance of disability rights. Johnson documents the way in which fame can work in a variety of ways to claw back the rights of Americans with disabilities granted in the Americans with Disabilities Act, documenting the association of Reeve and, in a different fashion, Clint Eastwood as stars who have actively worked to limit the applicability of civil rights legislation to people with disabilities. Like other successful celebrities, Reeve has been assiduous in managing his image, through the use of celebrity professionals including public relations professionals. In his Australian encounters, for example, Reeve gave a variety of media interviews to Australian journalists and yet the editor of the Australian disability rights magazine Link was unable to obtain an interview. Despite this, critiques of the super-crip celebrity function of Reeve by people with disabilities did circulate at the margins of mainstream media during his Australian visit, not least in disability media and the Internet (Leipoldt, Newell, and Corcoran, 2003). Infamous Disability Like the lives of saints, it is deeply offensive to many to criticise Christopher Reeve. So deeply engrained are the cultural myths of the catastrophe of disability and the creation of Reeve as icon that any critique runs the risk of being received as sacrilege, as one rare iconoclastic website provocatively prefigures (Maddox). In this highly charged context, we wish to acknowledge his contribution in highlighting some aspects of contemporary disability, and emphasise our desire not to play Reeve the person — rather to explore the cultural and media dimensions of fame and disability. In Christopher Reeve we find a remarkable exception as someone with disability who is celebrated in our culture. We welcome a wider debate over what is at stake in this celebrity and how Reeve’s renown differs from other disabled stars, as, for example, in Robert McRuer reflection that: ... at the beginning of the last century the most famous person with disabilities in the world, despite her participation in an ‘overcoming’ narrative, was a socialist who understood that disability disproportionately impacted workers and the power[less]; Helen Keller knew that blindness and deafness, for instance, often resulted from industrial accidents. At the beginning of this century, the most famous person with disabilities in the world is allowing his image to be used in commercials … (McRuer 230) For our part, we think Reeve’s celebrity plays an important contemporary role because it binds together a constellation of economic, political, and social institutions and discourses — namely science, biotechnology, and national competitiveness. In the second half of 2004, the stem cell debate is once again prominent in American debates as a presidential election issue. Reeve figures disability in national culture in his own country and internationally, as the case of the currency of his celebrity in Australia demonstrates. In this light, we have only just begun to register, let alone explore and debate, what is entailed for us all in the production of this disabled fame and infamy. Epilogue to “Fame and Disability” Christopher Reeve died on Sunday 10 October 2004, shortly after this article was accepted for publication. His death occasioned an outpouring of condolences, mourning, and reflection. We share that sense of loss. How Reeve will be remembered is still unfolding. The early weeks of public mourning have emphasised his celebrity as the very embodiment and exemplar of disabled identity: ‘The death of Christopher Reeve leaves embryonic-stem-cell activism without one of its star generals’ (Newsweek); ‘He Never Gave Up: What actor and activist Christopher Reeve taught scientists about the treatment of spinal-cord injury’ (Time); ‘Incredible Journey: Facing tragedy, Christopher Reeve inspired the world with hope and a lesson in courage’ (People); ‘Superman’s Legacy’ (The Express); ‘Reeve, the Real Superman’ (Hindustani Times). In his tribute New South Wales Premier Bob Carr called Reeve the ‘most impressive person I have ever met’, and lamented ‘Humankind has lost an advocate and friend’ (Carr). The figure of Reeve remains central to how disability is represented. In our culture, death is often closely entwined with disability (as in the saying ‘better dead than disabled’), something Reeve reflected upon himself often. How Reeve’s ‘global mourning’ partakes and shapes in this dense knots of associations, and how it transforms his celebrity, is something that requires further work (Ang et. al.). The political and analytical engagement with Reeve’s celebrity and mourning at this time serves to underscore our exploration of fame and disability in this article. Already there is his posthumous enlistment in the United States Presidential elections, where disability is both central and yet marginal, people with disability talked about rather than listened to. The ethics of stem cell research was an election issue before Reeve’s untimely passing, with Democratic presidential contender John Kerry sharply marking his difference on this issue with President Bush. After Reeve’s death his widow Dana joined the podium on the Kerry campaign in Columbus, Ohio, to put the case herself; for his part, Kerry compared Bush’s opposition to stem cell research as akin to favouring the candle lobby over electricity. As we write, the US polls are a week away, but the cultural representation of disability — and the intensely political role celebrity plays in it — appears even more palpably implicated in the government of society itself. References Abraham, Philip. Christopher Reeve. New York: Children’s Press, 2002. Alter, Judy. Christopher Reeve: Triumph over Tragedy. Danbury, Conn.: Franklin Watts, 2000. Ang, Ien, Ruth Barcan, Helen Grace, Elaine Lally, Justine Lloyd, and Zoe Sofoulis (eds.) Planet Diana: Cultural Studies and Global Mourning. Sydney: Research Centre in Intercommunal Studies, University of Western Sydney, Nepean, 1997. Bleckner, Jeff, dir. Rear Window. 1998. Brown, Steven E. “Super Duper? The (Unfortunate) Ascendancy of Christopher Reeve.” Mainstream: Magazine of the Able-Disabled, October 1996. Repr. 10 Aug. 2004 http://www.independentliving.org/docs3/brown96c.html>. Carr, Bob. “A Class Act of Grace and Courage.” Sydney Morning Herald. 12 Oct. 2004: 14. Corker, Mairian and Carol Thomas. “A Journey around the Social Model.” Disability/Postmodernity: Embodying Disability Theory. Ed. Mairian Corker and Tom Shakespeare. London and New York: Continuum, 2000. Donner, Richard, dir. Superman. 1978. Dyer, Richard. Heavenly Bodies: Film Stars and Society. London: BFI Macmillan, 1986. Fulcher, Gillian. Disabling Policies? London: Falmer Press, 1989. Furie, Sidney J., dir. Superman IV: The Quest for Peace. 1987. Finn, Margaret L. Christopher Reeve. Philadelphia: Chelsea House Publishers, 1997. Gilmer, Tim. “The Missionary Reeve.” New Mobility. November 2002. 13 Aug. 2004 http://www.newmobility.com/>. Goggin, Gerard. “Media Studies’ Disability.” Media International Australia 108 (Aug. 2003): 157-68. Goggin, Gerard, and Christopher Newell. Disability in Australia: Exposing a Social Apartheid. Sydney: UNSW Press, 2005. —. “Uniting the Nation?: Disability, Stem Cells, and the Australian Media.” Disability & Society 19 (2004): 47-60. Havill, Adrian. Man of Steel: The Career and Courage of Christopher Reeve. New York, N.Y.: Signet, 1996. Howard, Megan. Christopher Reeve. Minneapolis: Lerner Publications, 1999. Hughes, Libby. Christopher Reeve. Parsippany, NJ.: Dillon Press, 1998. Johnson, Mary. Make Them Go Away: Clint Eastwood, Christopher Reeve and the Case Against Disability Rights. Louisville : Advocado Press, 2003. Kosek, Jane Kelly. Learning about Courage from the Life of Christopher Reeve. 1st ed. New York : PowerKids Press, 1999. Leipoldt, Erik, Christopher Newell, and Maurice Corcoran. “Christopher Reeve and Bob Carr Dehumanise Disability — Stem Cell Research Not the Best Solution.” Online Opinion 27 Jan. 2003. http://www.onlineopinion.com.au/view.asp?article=510>. Lester, Richard (dir.) Superman II. 1980. —. Superman III. 1983. Maddox. “Christopher Reeve Is an Asshole.” 12 Aug. 2004 http://maddox.xmission.com/c.cgi?u=creeve>. Marshall, P. David. Celebrity and Power: Fame in Contemporary Culture. Minneapolis and London: U of Minnesota P, 1997. Mierendorf, Michael, dir. Without Pity: A Film about Abilities. Narr. Christopher Reeve. 1996. “Miracle or Murder?” Sixty Minutes. Channel 9, Australia. March 17, 2002. 15 June 2002 http://news.ninemsn.com.au/sixtyminutes/stories/2002_03_17/story_532.asp>. Mitchell, David, and Synder, Sharon, eds. The Body and Physical Difference. Ann Arbor, U of Michigan, 1997. McRuer, Robert. “Critical Investments: AIDS, Christopher Reeve, and Queer/Disability Studies.” Journal of Medical Humanities 23 (2002): 221-37. Oleksy, Walter G. Christopher Reeve. San Diego, CA: Lucent, 2000. Reeve, Christopher. Nothing Is Impossible: Reflections on a New Life. 1st ed. New York: Random House, 2002. —. Still Me. 1st ed. New York: Random House, 1998. Reeve, Dana, comp. Care Packages: Letters to Christopher Reeve from Strangers and Other Friends. 1st ed. New York: Random House, 1999. Reeve, Matthew (dir.) Christopher Reeve: Courageous Steps. Television documentary, 2002. Thomson, Rosemary Garland, ed. Freakery: Cultural Spectacles of the Extraordinary Body. New York: New York UP, 1996. Turner, Graeme. Understanding Celebrity. Thousands Oak, CA: Sage, 2004. Turner, Graeme, Frances Bonner, and David P Marshall. Fame Games: The Production of Celebrity in Australia. Melbourne: Cambridge UP, 2000. Wren, Laura Lee. Christopher Reeve: Hollywood’s Man of Courage. Berkeley Heights, NJ : Enslow, 1999. Younis, Steve. “Christopher Reeve Homepage.” 12 Aug. 2004 http://www.fortunecity.com/lavender/greatsleep/1023/main.html>. Citation reference for this article MLA Style Goggin, Gerard & Newell, Christopher. "Fame and Disability: Christopher Reeve, Super Crips, and Infamous Celebrity." M/C Journal 7.5 (2004). echo date('d M. Y'); ?> <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0411/02-goggin.php>. APA Style Goggin, G. & Newell, C. (Nov. 2004) "Fame and Disability: Christopher Reeve, Super Crips, and Infamous Celebrity," M/C Journal, 7(5). Retrieved echo date('d M. Y'); ?> from <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0411/02-goggin.php>.

Abstract:

Bracketed by a quotation from famed 1950s West German soccer coach S. Herberger and the word "Ende", the running length of the 1998 film Run Lola Run, directed by Tom Tykwer, is 9 minutes short of the official duration of a soccer match. Berlin has often been represented, in visual art and in cinematic imagery, as the modern metropolis: the Expressionist and Dadaist painters, Walter Ruttmann, Fritz Lang and Rainer Werner Fassbinder all depicted it as the modernising city. Since the '60s artists have staged artworks and performances in the public space of the city which critiqued the cold war order of that space, its institutions, and the hysterical attempt by the German government to erase a divided past after 1990. Run Lola Run depicts its setting, Berlin, as a cyberspace obstacle course or environment usually associated with interactive video and computer games. The eerie emptiness of the Berlin of Run Lola Run -- a fantasy projected onto a city which has been called the single biggest construction site in Europe -- is necessary to keep the protagonist Lola moving at high speed from the West to the East part of town and back again -- another fantasy which is only possible when the city is recast as a virtual environment. In Run Lola Run Berlin is represented as an idealised space of bodily and psychic mobility where the instantaneous technology of cyberspace is physically realised as a utopia of speed. The setting of Run Lola Run is not a playing field but a playing level, to use the parlance of video game technology. Underscored by other filmic devices and technologies, Run Lola Run emulates the kinetics and structures of a virtual, quasi-interactive environment: the Berlin setting of the film is paradoxically rendered as an indeterminate, but also site specific, entertainment complex which hinges upon the high-speed functioning of multiple networks of auto-mobility. Urban mobility as circuitry is performed by the film's super-athletic Lola. Lola is a cyber character; she recalls the 'cyberbabe' Lara Croft, heroine of the Sega Tomb Raider video game series. In Tomb Raider the Croft figure is controlled and manipulated by the interactive player to go through as many levels of play, or virtual environments, as possible. In order for the cyber figure to get to the next level of play she must successfully negotiate as many trap and puzzle mechanisms as possible. Speed in this interactive virtual game results from the skill of an experienced player who has practiced coordinating keyboard commands with figure movements and who is familiar with the obstacles the various environments can present. As is the case with Lara Croft, the figure of Lola in Run Lola Run reverses the traditional gender relations of the action/adventure game and of 'damsel in distress' narratives. Run Lola Run focusses on Lola's race to save her boyfriend from a certain death by obtaining DM 100,000 and delivering it across town in twenty minutes. The film adds the element of the race to the game, a variable not included in Tomb Raider. Tykwer repeats Lola's trajectory from home to the location of her boyfriend Manni thrice in the film, each time ending her quest with a different outcome. As in a video game, Lola can therefore be killed as the game unwinds during one turn of play, and on the next attempt she, and also we as viewers or would-be interactive players, would have learned from her previous 'mistakes' and adjust her actions accordingly. The soundtrack of Run Lola Run underscores the speed and mobility of Berlin by means of the fast/slow/fast rhythm of the film, which proceeds primarily at the pace of techno music. This quick rhythm is syncopated with pauses in the forward-moving action brought on by Lola's superhuman screams or by the death of a protagonist. These events mark the end of one turn of 'play' and the restart of Lola's route. Tykwer visually contrasts Lola's linear mobility and her physical and mental capacity for speed with her boyfriend Manni's centripetal fixity, a marker of his helplessness, throughout the film. Manni, a bagman-in-training for a local mafioso, has to make his desperate phone calls from a single phone booth in the borough of Charlottenburg after he bungles a hand-off of payment money by forgetting it on the U-Bahn (the subway). In a black and white flashback sequence, viewers learn about Manni's ill-fated trip to the Polish border with a shipment of stolen cars. In contrast to his earlier mobility, Manni becomes entrapped in the phone booth as a result of his ineptitude. A spiral store sign close to the phone booth symbolizes Manni's entrapment. Tykwer contrasts this circular form with the lines and grids Lola transverses throughout the film. Where at first Lola is also immobilised after her moped is stolen by an 'unbelieveably fast' thief, her quasi-cybernetic thought process soon restores her movement. Tykwer visualizes Lola's frantic thinking in a series of photographic portraits which indicates her consideration of who she can contact to supply a large sum of money. Lola not only moves but thinks with the fast, even pace of a computer working through a database. Tykwer then repeats overhead shots of gridded pavement which Lola follows as she runs through the filmic frame. The grid, emblem of modernity and structure of the metropolis, the semiconductor, and the puzzles of a virtual environment, is necessary for mobility and speed, and is performed by the figure of Lola. The grid is also apparent in the trajectories of traffic of speeding bikes, subway trains,and airplanes passing overhead, which all parallel Lola's movements in the film. The city/virtual environment is thus an idealised nexus of local, national and global lines of mobility and communication.: -- OR -- Tykwer emphasised the arbitrariness of the setting of Run Lola Run, insisting it could easily have been set in any other urban centre such as New York City or Beijing. At no point does the film make explicit that the space of action is Berlin; in fact the setting of the film is far less significant than the filmic self-reflexivity Tykwer explores in Run Lola Run. Berlin becomes a postmodernist filmic text in which earlier films by Lang, Schlöndorff, von Sternberg and Wenders are cited in intertextual fashion. It is not by chance that the protagonist of Run Lola Run shares the name of Marlene Dietrich's legendary character in von Sternberg's The Blue Angel. The running, late-20th-century Lola reconnects with and gains power from the originary Lola Lola as ur-Star of German cinema. The high overhead shots of Run Lola Run technologically exceed those used by Lang in M in 1931 but still quote his filmic text; the spiral form, placed in a shop window in M, becomes a central image of Run Lola Run in marking the immobile spot that Manni occupies. Repeated several times in the film, Lola's scream bends events, characters and chance to her will and slows the relentless pace of the narrative. This vocal punctuation recalls the equally willful vocalisations of Oskar Matzerath in Schlöndorff's Tin Drum (1979). Tykwer's radical expansions and compressions of time in Run Lola Run rely on the temporal exploitation of the filmic medium. The film stretches 20 minutes of 'real time' in the lives of its two protagonists into the 84 minutes of the film. Tykwer also distills the lives of the film's incidental or secondary characters into a few still images and a few seconds of filmic time in the 'und dann...' [and then...] sequences of all three episodes. For example, Lola's momentary encounter with an employee of her father's bank spins off into two completely different life stories for this woman, both of which are told through four or five staged 'snapshots' which are edited together into a rapid sequence. The higher-speed photography of the snapshot keeps up the frenetic pace of Run Lola Run and causes the narrative to move forward even faster, if only for a few seconds. Tykwer also celebrates the technology of 35 mm film in juxtaposing it to the fuzzy imprecision of video in Run Lola Run. The viewer not only notes how scenes shot on video are less visually beautiful than the 35 mm scenes which feature Lola or Manni, but also that they seem to move at a snail's pace. For example, the video-shot scene in Lola's banker-father's office also represents the boredom of his well-paid but stagnant life; another video sequence visually parallels the slow, shuffling movement of the homeless man Norbert as he discovers Manni's forgotten moneybag on the U-Bahn. Comically, he breaks into a run when he realises what he's found. Where Wim Wenders's Wings of Desire made beautiful cinematographic use of Berlin landmarks like the Siegessäule in black and white 35 mm, Tykwer relegates black and white to flashback sequences within the narrative and rejects the relatively meandering contemplation of Wenders's film in favour of the linear dynamism of urban space in Run Lola Run. -- OR -- Tykwer emphasised the arbitrariness of the setting of Run Lola Run, insisting it could easily have been set in any other urban centre such as New York City or Beijing. Nevertheless he establishes the united Berlin as the specific setting of the film. While Run Lola Run does not explicitly indicate that the space of action is Berlin, viewers are clear of the setting: a repeated establishing shot of the Friedrichstrasse U-Bahn stop, a central commuting street near the Brandenburg Gate in the former East Berlin which has undergone extensive reconstruction since 1990, begins each episode of the film. The play between the locality of Berlin and its role as the universal modernist metropolis is a trope of German cinema famously deployed by Fritz Lang in M, where the setting is also never explicitly revealed but implied by means of the use of the Berlin dialect in the dialogue of the film1. The soundtrack of Run Lola Run underscores the speed and mobility of Berlin by means of the fast/slow/fast rhythm of the film which proceeds primarily at the pace of techno music. Techno is also closely identified with the city of Berlin through its annual Techno Festival, which seems to grow larger with each passing year. Quick techno rhythm is syncopated with pauses in the forward-moving action brought on by Lola's superhuman screams or by the death of a protagonist. Berlin is also made explicit as Tykwer often stages scenes at clearly-marked street intersections which identify particular locations or boroughs thoughout east and west Berlin. The viewer notes that Lola escapes her father's bank during one episode and faces Unter den Linden; several scenes unfold on the banks of the river Spree; Lola sprints between the Altes Museum and the Berlin Cathedral. Manni's participation in a car-theft ring points to the Berlin-focussed activity of actual Eastern European and Russian crime syndicates; the film features an interlude at the Polish border where Manni delivers a shipment of stolen Mercedes to underworld buyers, which has to do with the actual geographic proximity of Berlin to Eastern European countries. Tykwer emphasised the arbitrariness of the setting of Run Lola Run, insisting it could easily have been set in any other urban centre such as New York City or Beijing. Nevertheless he establishes the united Berlin as the specific setting of the film. While Run Lola Run does not explicitly indicate that the space of action is Berlin, viewers are clear of the setting: a repeated establishing shot of the Friedrichstrasse U-Bahn stop, a central commuting street near the Brandenburg Gate in the former East Berlin which has undergone extensive reconstruction since 1990, begins each episode of the film. The play between the locality of Berlin and its role as the universal modernist metropolis is a trope of German cinema famously deployed by Fritz Lang in M, where the setting is also never explicitly revealed but implied by means of the use of the Berlin dialect in the dialogue of the film1. The soundtrack of Run Lola Run underscores the speed and mobility of Berlin by means of the fast/slow/fast rhythm of the film which proceeds primarily at the pace of techno music. Techno is also closely identified with the city of Berlin through its annual Techno Festival, which seems to grow larger with each passing year. Quick techno rhythm is syncopated with pauses in the forward-moving action brought on by Lola's superhuman screams or by the death of a protagonist. Berlin is also made explicit as Tykwer often stages scenes at clearly-marked street intersections which identify particular locations or boroughs thoughout east and west Berlin. The viewer notes that Lola escapes her father's bank during one episode and faces Unter den Linden; several scenes unfold on the banks of the river Spree; Lola sprints between the Altes Museum and the Berlin Cathedral. Manni's participation in a car-theft ring points to the Berlin-focussed activity of actual Eastern European and Russian crime syndicates; the film features an interlude at the Polish border where Manni delivers a shipment of stolen Mercedes to underworld buyers, which has to do with the actual geographic proximity of Berlin to Eastern European countries. Yet the speed of purposeful mobility is demanded in the contemporary united and globalised Berlin; lines of action or direction must be chosen and followed and chance encounters become traps or interruptions. Chance must therefore be minimised in the pursuit of urban speed, mobility, and commications access. In the globalised Berlin, Tykwer compresses chance encounters into individual snapshots of visual data which are viewed in quick succession by the viewer. Where artists such Christo and Sophie Calle had investigated the initial chaos of German reunification in Berlin, Run Lola Run rejects the hyper-contemplative and past-obsessed mood demanded by Christo's wrapping of the Reichstag, or Calle's documentation of the artistic destructions of unification3. Run Lola Run recasts Berlin as a network of fast connections, lines of uninterrupted movement, and productive output. It is therefore perhaps not surprising that Tykwer's idealised and embodied representation of Berlin as Lola has been politically appropriated as a convenient icon by the city's status quo: an icon of the successful reconstruction and rewiring of a united Berlin into a fast global broadband digital telecommunications network4. Footnotes See Edward Dimendberg's excellent discussion of filmic representations of the metropolis in "From Berlin to Bunker Hill: Urban Space, Late Modernity, and Film Noir in Fritz Lang's and Joseph Losey's M." Wide Angle 19.4 (1997): 62-93. This is despite the fact that the temporal parameters of the plot of Run Lola Run forbid the aimlessness central to spazieren (strolling). See Walter Benjamin, "A Berlin Chronicle", in Reflections. Ed. Peter Demetz. Trans. Edmund Jephcott. New York: Schocken, 1986. 3-60. See Sophie Calle, The Detachment. London: G+B Arts International and Arndt & Partner Gallery, n.d. The huge success of Tykwer's film in Germany spawned many red-hair-coiffed Lola imitators in the Berlin populace. The mayor of Berlin sported Lola-esque red hair in a poster which imitated the one for the film, but legal intercession put an end to this trendy political statement. Brian Pendreigh. "The Lolaness of the Long-Distance Runner." The Guardian 15 Oct. 1999. I've relied on William J. Mitchell's cultural history of the late 20th century 'rebuilding' of major cities into connection points in the global telecommunications network, City of Bits: Space, Place, and the Infobahn. Cambridge: MIT P, 1995. Citation reference for this article MLA style: Claudia Mesch. "Racing Berlin: The Games of Run Lola Run." M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 3.3 (2000). [your date of access] <http://www.api-network.com/mc/0006/speed.php>. Chicago style: Claudia Mesch, "Racing Berlin: The Games of Run Lola Run," M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 3, no. 3 (2000), <http://www.api-network.com/mc/0006/speed.php> ([your date of access]). APA style: Claudia Mesch. (2000) Racing Berlin: the games of Run Lola run. M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 3(3). <http://www.api-network.com/mc/0006/speed.php> ([your date of access]).