The cult of ruins that arose in the eighteenth century set all Europe on fire. Italywas its first laboratory, but it did not take long for it to invade France, Great Britain, the German principalities, and even Russia. Travelers and the “Grand Tour” were the vectors of this enthusiasm, enriched by the art of painters and poets no less than by antiquarian scholarship and the development of techniques of observation, survey, and excavation. Each of these contributed to a sensibility that grewandbranched out. TheRenaissance taste for ruinswas originally almost entirely focused on Rome and its antiquities, Roman history being the history that mattered. In the course of the eighteenth century, such men as Jacon Spon and Lord Arundel turned to Greece while at the same time British, Dutch, German, Spanish, and Scandinavian antiquarians took on the task ofmaking a precise inventory of their local antiquities. The first systematic inventories appeared in the seventeenth century with Peiresc and Rubens, soon followed by Cassiano dal Pozzo. Antiquaries like Pietro della Valle set sail for the Orient and reached Persia and India. Theodor de Bry had already pre-
{"title":"What Is a Ruin? The Western Definition","authors":"Alain Schnapp","doi":"10.1086/696339","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1086/696339","url":null,"abstract":"The cult of ruins that arose in the eighteenth century set all Europe on fire. Italywas its first laboratory, but it did not take long for it to invade France, Great Britain, the German principalities, and even Russia. Travelers and the “Grand Tour” were the vectors of this enthusiasm, enriched by the art of painters and poets no less than by antiquarian scholarship and the development of techniques of observation, survey, and excavation. Each of these contributed to a sensibility that grewandbranched out. TheRenaissance taste for ruinswas originally almost entirely focused on Rome and its antiquities, Roman history being the history that mattered. In the course of the eighteenth century, such men as Jacon Spon and Lord Arundel turned to Greece while at the same time British, Dutch, German, Spanish, and Scandinavian antiquarians took on the task ofmaking a precise inventory of their local antiquities. The first systematic inventories appeared in the seventeenth century with Peiresc and Rubens, soon followed by Cassiano dal Pozzo. Antiquaries like Pietro della Valle set sail for the Orient and reached Persia and India. Theodor de Bry had already pre-","PeriodicalId":187662,"journal":{"name":"KNOW: A Journal on the Formation of Knowledge","volume":"35 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2018-03-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"129384611","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
T here is an idea , powerful across the long history of formation of much of what we take to be knowledge, that the objects of our thought can best be understood as pebbles. By way of explaining this cryptic point, let us remind you of one of Borges’s last stories, “Tigres azules” (Blue tigers). Its narrator, Alexander Craigie, was a Scottish philosopher whomade a living teaching “occidental logic” at Lahore (modern Pakistan) circa 1900. Professor Craigie was in every way an apostle of reason, except that since his earliest childhood he had been fascinated by tigers, which even populated his dreams (already we should feel a slight tension between ways of knowing). Toward the end of 1904 Craigie read somewhere the surprising news that a blue variant of the species had been sighted. He dismissed the report as product of error or linguistic confusion, but eventually even the tigers in his dreams turned blue. Unable to resist his curiosity, he set off toward the sources of the rumor. When he arrived at a Hindu village mentioned in some of the reports and told thevillagerswhathewas looking for, he found that they becamequite guarded, but they claimed to knowof this blue tiger, and
{"title":"Knowledge from Pebbles: What Can Be Counted, and What Cannot","authors":"David Z. Nirenberg, R. Nirenberg","doi":"10.1086/696970","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1086/696970","url":null,"abstract":"T here is an idea , powerful across the long history of formation of much of what we take to be knowledge, that the objects of our thought can best be understood as pebbles. By way of explaining this cryptic point, let us remind you of one of Borges’s last stories, “Tigres azules” (Blue tigers). Its narrator, Alexander Craigie, was a Scottish philosopher whomade a living teaching “occidental logic” at Lahore (modern Pakistan) circa 1900. Professor Craigie was in every way an apostle of reason, except that since his earliest childhood he had been fascinated by tigers, which even populated his dreams (already we should feel a slight tension between ways of knowing). Toward the end of 1904 Craigie read somewhere the surprising news that a blue variant of the species had been sighted. He dismissed the report as product of error or linguistic confusion, but eventually even the tigers in his dreams turned blue. Unable to resist his curiosity, he set off toward the sources of the rumor. When he arrived at a Hindu village mentioned in some of the reports and told thevillagerswhathewas looking for, he found that they becamequite guarded, but they claimed to knowof this blue tiger, and","PeriodicalId":187662,"journal":{"name":"KNOW: A Journal on the Formation of Knowledge","volume":"109 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2018-03-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"127909427","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
I n critiquing the replica of a pregnant woman used by her rival, the Englishmidwife Elizabeth Nihell went so far as to describe it as a “wooden statue, representing awomanwith child, whose belly was of leather, in which a bladder full, perhaps, of small beer, represented the uterus.” The rival she disparaged was the Scottish manmidwife William Smellie, who employed this replica to demonstrate birthing maneuvers in his courses. “This bladder was stopped with a cork,” added Nihell, “to which was fastened a string of packthread to tap it, occasionally, and demonstrate in a palpable manner the flowing of the red-coloured waters [and] in the middle of the bladder was a wax-doll, to which were given various positions.” For the Scotsman known as the father of British midwifery, use of such teaching mannequins was no laughing matter. By his own account, Smellie had trained some nine hundred students on his “automaton or machine.” In fact, what Nihell and Smellie disagreed onmore fundamentally than the virtues of this demonstration dummywas if—and if so, how liberally—instruments like forceps should be used in childbirth. Nihell objected to Smellie’s “instrumentarian” approach and the cre-
{"title":"Phantoms in the Classroom: Midwifery Training in Enlightenment Europe","authors":"M. Carlyle","doi":"10.1086/696623","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1086/696623","url":null,"abstract":"I n critiquing the replica of a pregnant woman used by her rival, the Englishmidwife Elizabeth Nihell went so far as to describe it as a “wooden statue, representing awomanwith child, whose belly was of leather, in which a bladder full, perhaps, of small beer, represented the uterus.” The rival she disparaged was the Scottish manmidwife William Smellie, who employed this replica to demonstrate birthing maneuvers in his courses. “This bladder was stopped with a cork,” added Nihell, “to which was fastened a string of packthread to tap it, occasionally, and demonstrate in a palpable manner the flowing of the red-coloured waters [and] in the middle of the bladder was a wax-doll, to which were given various positions.” For the Scotsman known as the father of British midwifery, use of such teaching mannequins was no laughing matter. By his own account, Smellie had trained some nine hundred students on his “automaton or machine.” In fact, what Nihell and Smellie disagreed onmore fundamentally than the virtues of this demonstration dummywas if—and if so, how liberally—instruments like forceps should be used in childbirth. Nihell objected to Smellie’s “instrumentarian” approach and the cre-","PeriodicalId":187662,"journal":{"name":"KNOW: A Journal on the Formation of Knowledge","volume":"80 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2018-03-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"125550374","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
N ear the start of Plato’s famous work Republic, as the characters quarrel about how to define justice, Socrates reminds them: “Remember: it is no chance matter we are discussing, but how one should live.” Political philosophy, as practiced in theWestern tradition and also in the traditions of East Asia, South Asia, and Africa, has always been a practical discipline, seeking to construct a theoretical blueprint for just and decent lives in a world full of division, competition, fear, and uncontrolled catastrophes. In this lecture I hope to provide some reasons for thinking that philosophy continues to play an important role as we work together for a better world. I’ll then propose some criteria for valuable philosophical work on urgent human issues.
{"title":"Philosophy in the Service of Humanity","authors":"M. Nussbaum","doi":"10.1086/692005","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1086/692005","url":null,"abstract":"N ear the start of Plato’s famous work Republic, as the characters quarrel about how to define justice, Socrates reminds them: “Remember: it is no chance matter we are discussing, but how one should live.” Political philosophy, as practiced in theWestern tradition and also in the traditions of East Asia, South Asia, and Africa, has always been a practical discipline, seeking to construct a theoretical blueprint for just and decent lives in a world full of division, competition, fear, and uncontrolled catastrophes. In this lecture I hope to provide some reasons for thinking that philosophy continues to play an important role as we work together for a better world. I’ll then propose some criteria for valuable philosophical work on urgent human issues.","PeriodicalId":187662,"journal":{"name":"KNOW: A Journal on the Formation of Knowledge","volume":"38 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2017-09-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"126213847","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
W elcome to the second issue of KNOW. As with the first issue, we’ve encouraged our contributors to speak in their own voice about their experience in their field of expertise and its assumptions, constraints, and possibilities. An interesting trio of overlapping approaches to this prompt has emerged in the following nine essays. Some offer what could be seen as normative ideals, whether current or corrective, for how a field should be practiced and what its aims should be. Others grapple with what Sheldon Pollock here calls “the conundrum of comparison.” Comparison and/or analogy have represented practices of knowledge formation at least as early as Aristotle’s Poetics and Rhetoric, but the assumptions embedded in the practices have not often been articulated with the complexity they deserve. Another group of essays more or less explodes what we think we know, whether it’s statistical inferences underlying scientific “discoveries” or the simple unknowability of the systems of thought that resulted in the Andean use of quipus in lieu of written records. The common thread here is the necessity of context and complexity in our approach to any form of knowing; it seems
{"title":"Editors’ Introduction","authors":"S. Bartsch, C. Ando, R. Richards, Haun Saussy","doi":"10.1086/693450","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1086/693450","url":null,"abstract":"W elcome to the second issue of KNOW. As with the first issue, we’ve encouraged our contributors to speak in their own voice about their experience in their field of expertise and its assumptions, constraints, and possibilities. An interesting trio of overlapping approaches to this prompt has emerged in the following nine essays. Some offer what could be seen as normative ideals, whether current or corrective, for how a field should be practiced and what its aims should be. Others grapple with what Sheldon Pollock here calls “the conundrum of comparison.” Comparison and/or analogy have represented practices of knowledge formation at least as early as Aristotle’s Poetics and Rhetoric, but the assumptions embedded in the practices have not often been articulated with the complexity they deserve. Another group of essays more or less explodes what we think we know, whether it’s statistical inferences underlying scientific “discoveries” or the simple unknowability of the systems of thought that resulted in the Andean use of quipus in lieu of written records. The common thread here is the necessity of context and complexity in our approach to any form of knowing; it seems","PeriodicalId":187662,"journal":{"name":"KNOW: A Journal on the Formation of Knowledge","volume":"47 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2017-09-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"133542343","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
{"title":"Sold—Greetings from California! / “Binomial”","authors":"Polly Geller","doi":"10.1086/693396","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1086/693396","url":null,"abstract":"","PeriodicalId":187662,"journal":{"name":"KNOW: A Journal on the Formation of Knowledge","volume":"77 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2017-09-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"116968602","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
T he continent of South America occupies a unique position globally when it comes to the matter of “knowing,” at least with respect to indigenous expressions of knowledge. Sometimes referred to as “the least known continent,” South America stands alone as the only continent (excluding Antarctica) on which no civilization invented a system of writing during the long time span from the peopling of the continent (ca. 13,000 BCE) to the arrival of Europeans, in the 1530s CE. That said, the Inkas did develop a system of record-keeping, using knotted strings—the subject of the discussion following this paragraph. Because of the absence of written documents from before the European invasion, we do not know, from indigenous pre-Columbian testimony, the identity of a single individual who lived on the continent before Europeans began recording information, soon after their conquest of the Inka empire. While we can with fair certainty establish the age, sex (but not gender), diet, and so on, of people who lived before the conquest, for no set of skeletal remains from anywhere on the continent do we have an indigenously recorded name to match those remains. No event
{"title":"A Personal History of Knot Knowing","authors":"G. Urton","doi":"10.1086/693383","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1086/693383","url":null,"abstract":"T he continent of South America occupies a unique position globally when it comes to the matter of “knowing,” at least with respect to indigenous expressions of knowledge. Sometimes referred to as “the least known continent,” South America stands alone as the only continent (excluding Antarctica) on which no civilization invented a system of writing during the long time span from the peopling of the continent (ca. 13,000 BCE) to the arrival of Europeans, in the 1530s CE. That said, the Inkas did develop a system of record-keeping, using knotted strings—the subject of the discussion following this paragraph. Because of the absence of written documents from before the European invasion, we do not know, from indigenous pre-Columbian testimony, the identity of a single individual who lived on the continent before Europeans began recording information, soon after their conquest of the Inka empire. While we can with fair certainty establish the age, sex (but not gender), diet, and so on, of people who lived before the conquest, for no set of skeletal remains from anywhere on the continent do we have an indigenously recorded name to match those remains. No event","PeriodicalId":187662,"journal":{"name":"KNOW: A Journal on the Formation of Knowledge","volume":"13 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2017-09-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"127847061","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
In ancient times, before some point in the second half of the nineteenth century, if youwere uncertain how to investigate a topic, epistemologists—philosophers concerned with knowledge and rational belief—would be among the people you would first think of reading and consulting. They had played a large role in the early years of the scientific revolution, mediating the delicate tension between scientific discovery and traditional belief. The last such figure with this kind of influence was John Stuart Mill. But all that has changed. For at least the past hundred years, your first port of call would be a statistician. There are several reasons for this. One is that the philosophers blew it. At first they were raising real issues about how to understand the physical world, and making helpful suggestions about how to achieve this. Some of these suggestions would seem bizarre now, but they were intelligently defended and usually fitted the science of the time. Then they got hung up on dramatic skeptical issues. How do we know the world is really there? How do we know that other people
{"title":"Evidence-Based Beliefs?","authors":"A. Morton","doi":"10.1086/693355","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1086/693355","url":null,"abstract":"In ancient times, before some point in the second half of the nineteenth century, if youwere uncertain how to investigate a topic, epistemologists—philosophers concerned with knowledge and rational belief—would be among the people you would first think of reading and consulting. They had played a large role in the early years of the scientific revolution, mediating the delicate tension between scientific discovery and traditional belief. The last such figure with this kind of influence was John Stuart Mill. But all that has changed. For at least the past hundred years, your first port of call would be a statistician. There are several reasons for this. One is that the philosophers blew it. At first they were raising real issues about how to understand the physical world, and making helpful suggestions about how to achieve this. Some of these suggestions would seem bizarre now, but they were intelligently defended and usually fitted the science of the time. Then they got hung up on dramatic skeptical issues. How do we know the world is really there? How do we know that other people","PeriodicalId":187662,"journal":{"name":"KNOW: A Journal on the Formation of Knowledge","volume":"62 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2017-09-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"130456197","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
I s progress inevitable? Is it natural? Is it fragile? Is it possible? Is it a problematic concept in the first place? Many people are reexamining these kinds of questions in the wake of the political events of 2016. There is a strange doubleness to experiencing a historic moment while being a historian oneself. I feel the same shock, fear, overload, and emotional exhaustion that so many feel right now, but at the same time another self is analyzing, dredging up historical examples, bigger crises, smaller crises, more surprising votes, votes that set the fuse to powder kegs, votes that changed nothing. I keep thinking about what it must have felt like during the Wars of the Roses, or the French Wars of Religion, during those little blips of peace, a decade long or so, that we—centuries later—call mere pauses, but which were long enough for a person to be born and grow to political maturity in what seemed like peace, which only hindsight labels “dormant war.” But even such protracted wars eventually ended, and then the peace was real. And yet, to those who lived through them, the two must have felt exactly the same: the “real” peace and those
{"title":"On Progress and Historical Change","authors":"A. Palmer","doi":"10.1086/693676","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1086/693676","url":null,"abstract":"I s progress inevitable? Is it natural? Is it fragile? Is it possible? Is it a problematic concept in the first place? Many people are reexamining these kinds of questions in the wake of the political events of 2016. There is a strange doubleness to experiencing a historic moment while being a historian oneself. I feel the same shock, fear, overload, and emotional exhaustion that so many feel right now, but at the same time another self is analyzing, dredging up historical examples, bigger crises, smaller crises, more surprising votes, votes that set the fuse to powder kegs, votes that changed nothing. I keep thinking about what it must have felt like during the Wars of the Roses, or the French Wars of Religion, during those little blips of peace, a decade long or so, that we—centuries later—call mere pauses, but which were long enough for a person to be born and grow to political maturity in what seemed like peace, which only hindsight labels “dormant war.” But even such protracted wars eventually ended, and then the peace was real. And yet, to those who lived through them, the two must have felt exactly the same: the “real” peace and those","PeriodicalId":187662,"journal":{"name":"KNOW: A Journal on the Formation of Knowledge","volume":"17 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2017-09-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"131559289","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
I t has proven hard to insert literature, the post-Renaissance West’s praxis of usually-written figurative thinking, symbolic imagination (which takes other forms and meanings in other times and cultures), or indeed other media of the fictive imagination into their material context and environs. Or it has at least proven hard to do so without interdicting, impeding, or curtailing the close reading of those media, or ruinously reducing contextual abundance to shape it either to wieldy order or to seeming analytical need of the textual, pictural, philosophical, musical, or other medium. Yet not to do so is to fall into mystifications of Kantian autonomy, as if artistic media had their own life outside other human activities; or as if they were a superstructure floating over material actions, however closely affected by, tied to, them; as if they were not as creative of those actions as they are created by them. Not to do so is also to fail to set them in histories beyond their local creation, to fail to know them as essentially in those wider histories, ultimately planetary (not to coin a phrase). This produces, too,a localizing of large culturalmovements. A clear case is the Italo-centric Renaissance, as if it were not
{"title":"Wars, Birds, Cultural Origins, and Oceanic Exchanges","authors":"T. Reiss","doi":"10.1086/693397","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1086/693397","url":null,"abstract":"I t has proven hard to insert literature, the post-Renaissance West’s praxis of usually-written figurative thinking, symbolic imagination (which takes other forms and meanings in other times and cultures), or indeed other media of the fictive imagination into their material context and environs. Or it has at least proven hard to do so without interdicting, impeding, or curtailing the close reading of those media, or ruinously reducing contextual abundance to shape it either to wieldy order or to seeming analytical need of the textual, pictural, philosophical, musical, or other medium. Yet not to do so is to fall into mystifications of Kantian autonomy, as if artistic media had their own life outside other human activities; or as if they were a superstructure floating over material actions, however closely affected by, tied to, them; as if they were not as creative of those actions as they are created by them. Not to do so is also to fail to set them in histories beyond their local creation, to fail to know them as essentially in those wider histories, ultimately planetary (not to coin a phrase). This produces, too,a localizing of large culturalmovements. A clear case is the Italo-centric Renaissance, as if it were not","PeriodicalId":187662,"journal":{"name":"KNOW: A Journal on the Formation of Knowledge","volume":"163 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2017-09-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"131988679","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
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