book such as itself (which does not exist) and is thus, though expensive, essential reading for those who might learn, by a kind of osmosis, more about the science. When Alfred Jarry’s (anti-?) hero Dr. Faustroll (Exploits and Opinions of Dr. Faustroll, Pataphysician, written in 1898) set off in a sieve-like skiff across a psychogeographic sea, it was in the company of a bailiff and a dog(or arse-) faced baboon, Bosse-de-Nage. This latter could only say one thing: “Ha.” And it was not joking. We can choose to imagine that one ha is a parody of the other ha. Bosse-deNage could just have said “Ha,” but chose (or had) to say it twice. Umberto Eco wrote that “for the ultimate perfection of ’Pataphysics, it must be transformed from a science of imaginary solutions into a science of unimaginable solutions.” This as he knew is pataphysically improbable, a professional foul, but needed to be written. A fortiori the book under review. It has succeeded in demonstrating that the parody and the parodied are one, a useful, if one dare say so, contribution to pataphysical experience. QED. Ha!
{"title":"Climatic Media: Transpacific Experiments in Atmospheric Control","authors":"Jennifer Ferng","doi":"10.1162/leon_r_02345","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1162/leon_r_02345","url":null,"abstract":"book such as itself (which does not exist) and is thus, though expensive, essential reading for those who might learn, by a kind of osmosis, more about the science. When Alfred Jarry’s (anti-?) hero Dr. Faustroll (Exploits and Opinions of Dr. Faustroll, Pataphysician, written in 1898) set off in a sieve-like skiff across a psychogeographic sea, it was in the company of a bailiff and a dog(or arse-) faced baboon, Bosse-de-Nage. This latter could only say one thing: “Ha.” And it was not joking. We can choose to imagine that one ha is a parody of the other ha. Bosse-deNage could just have said “Ha,” but chose (or had) to say it twice. Umberto Eco wrote that “for the ultimate perfection of ’Pataphysics, it must be transformed from a science of imaginary solutions into a science of unimaginable solutions.” This as he knew is pataphysically improbable, a professional foul, but needed to be written. A fortiori the book under review. It has succeeded in demonstrating that the parody and the parodied are one, a useful, if one dare say so, contribution to pataphysical experience. QED. Ha!","PeriodicalId":93330,"journal":{"name":"Leonardo (Oxford, England)","volume":"35 1","pages":"211-212"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2023-02-02","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"76792471","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}
infrastructures, and discourses, that “define what counts as knowledge” (p. 80). An analysis of these elements can thus reveal how knowledge is produced in and through labs—a method they refer to as the “extended lab model” (p. 11). Their description of this method is followed by detailed analyses of several labs, including Thomas Edison’s Menlo Park laboratory, the Media Lab at MIT, and the Media Archaeological Fundus at Humboldt University. This brief list illustrates the range of labs under discussion: corporate labs, labs designed for industrial and academic applications, and labs focused on historical preservation. One of the themes repeated throughout the book is that the increasing number of humanities labs is indicative of broader changes within contemporary academic culture, as “shifts between traditional humanities spaces . . . and science labs can be tracked historically, not only as a particular modern form of hybridity with a very intensive transformation witnessed across the past decades, but as a theoretically and thematically insightful way to read modern institutional change” (p. 32). This trend is often interpreted as a sign of the increasing marginalization of the humanities, which has been fueled in part by a desire for corporate investment. The writers note, for example, that there is “an enormous amount of pressure on universities to instrumentalize education” (p. 136) and that “the fetishization of innovation has done substantial damage to the traditional function of the university as memory institution and producer of citizens rather than employees” (p. 212). However, they also argue that labs have an “enormous potential . . . to change our institutional cultures for the better” (p. 136) and that they “can and should lead to new ways of being a scholar, of training new scholars, and of connecting what happens in the academy to the larger world” (p. 112). Another repeated theme, inspired by Feminist Science Studies (FSS), is that laboratory practices are informed by gender and power relations that determine “who is identified as what kind of subject, and how they are identified” (p. 18). Labs thus operate within disciplinary frameworks that extend to bodies as well as technologies, and one of the clearest examples is the fact that women were historically relegated to home economics labs and excluded from conducting research in science labs. Power relations also inform financing, as organizations like the MIT Media Lab will “never be able to remain unaffected by funding that comes from U.S. tech companies with the same deeply ingrained racial and gender demographics” (p. 160). This problem became particularly evident after it was discovered that the lab had accepted funds from sex trafficker and pedophile Jeffrey Epstein—a decision that reflects “a particularly troubling form of ignorance of the social complexities of race, gender, and other issues” (p. 166). Nevertheless, the writers conclude that their “extended lab model”
{"title":"Extinct: A Compendium of Obsolete Objects","authors":"Michael Punt","doi":"10.1162/leon_r_02347","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1162/leon_r_02347","url":null,"abstract":"infrastructures, and discourses, that “define what counts as knowledge” (p. 80). An analysis of these elements can thus reveal how knowledge is produced in and through labs—a method they refer to as the “extended lab model” (p. 11). Their description of this method is followed by detailed analyses of several labs, including Thomas Edison’s Menlo Park laboratory, the Media Lab at MIT, and the Media Archaeological Fundus at Humboldt University. This brief list illustrates the range of labs under discussion: corporate labs, labs designed for industrial and academic applications, and labs focused on historical preservation. One of the themes repeated throughout the book is that the increasing number of humanities labs is indicative of broader changes within contemporary academic culture, as “shifts between traditional humanities spaces . . . and science labs can be tracked historically, not only as a particular modern form of hybridity with a very intensive transformation witnessed across the past decades, but as a theoretically and thematically insightful way to read modern institutional change” (p. 32). This trend is often interpreted as a sign of the increasing marginalization of the humanities, which has been fueled in part by a desire for corporate investment. The writers note, for example, that there is “an enormous amount of pressure on universities to instrumentalize education” (p. 136) and that “the fetishization of innovation has done substantial damage to the traditional function of the university as memory institution and producer of citizens rather than employees” (p. 212). However, they also argue that labs have an “enormous potential . . . to change our institutional cultures for the better” (p. 136) and that they “can and should lead to new ways of being a scholar, of training new scholars, and of connecting what happens in the academy to the larger world” (p. 112). Another repeated theme, inspired by Feminist Science Studies (FSS), is that laboratory practices are informed by gender and power relations that determine “who is identified as what kind of subject, and how they are identified” (p. 18). Labs thus operate within disciplinary frameworks that extend to bodies as well as technologies, and one of the clearest examples is the fact that women were historically relegated to home economics labs and excluded from conducting research in science labs. Power relations also inform financing, as organizations like the MIT Media Lab will “never be able to remain unaffected by funding that comes from U.S. tech companies with the same deeply ingrained racial and gender demographics” (p. 160). This problem became particularly evident after it was discovered that the lab had accepted funds from sex trafficker and pedophile Jeffrey Epstein—a decision that reflects “a particularly troubling form of ignorance of the social complexities of race, gender, and other issues” (p. 166). Nevertheless, the writers conclude that their “extended lab model”","PeriodicalId":93330,"journal":{"name":"Leonardo (Oxford, England)","volume":"846 1","pages":"213-215"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2023-02-02","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"84843044","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}
Scale is part of everyone’s daily experience, and not all these experiences are as dramatic a mix of fear and awe as Pascal’s positioning of mankind between the infinitely large and the infinitely small. After all, to review a book is a scale experience, since the reviewer is no longer dealing with words, sentences, and paragraphs, which are the object of an actual reading, but with totally different units, ideas, claims, and hypotheses (and the reader of a review will obviously go through something similar when entering the book itself—which, by the way, I can strongly recommend). Although we are all permanently aware of the presence and importance of scale, our understanding of it remains elementary, not only because we are so used to it that we neglect to scrutinize its significance, but also because we frame it in the wrong way. Differences of scale are generally envisaged not only from a single viewpoint—that of a given discipline, separated from most other ways of looking and understanding—but also that of “our” Homo sapiens viewpoint, which brings everything back to a kind of “this scale” or “meter scale”—Joshua DiCaglio uses these words to suggest that we tend to express “nonhuman” scales by comparing them with our natural measuring systems. Moreover, we also believe that there exists a kind of analogy between what we observe via our human scale and what we observe on other scales, be they microscopic or telescopic, a way of naturalizing and normalizing scale differences that DiCaglio rightly describes as a way of nonscalar interpretation of scale (the body as a mere collection of cells, for instance, or the universe as a simple collection of stars). These mistakes are human, all too human, but they miss the real meaning of scale, which some of us experience in certain circumstances and which DiCaglio links with the impression of a fusion with the whole of being, a complete fading out of the boundaries between subject and object, I and the world, body and mind, etc. The author groups these experiences as “mystical,” while also insisting that it would be a mistake to consider all of them as religious in the traditional sense of the word (the religious experience is just one of the possible forms that a deep scalar experience can take and it is certainly not the universal key to a good understanding of what happens in the encounter that DiCaglio eventually labels as the coincidence of the I and the Cosmos). Scale, in other words, is not something that exists. It must be seen as a force that changes both subject and object and above all the relationship between them. To grasp what scale actually “does” and to avoid the traditional mistakes in our experience of scale, all of them being nonscalar interpretations of scalar facts, we need a real theory of scale, not a theory of scaling techniques and apparatuses or scaled objects but a general, nondisciplinary approach that can be applied to any scale experience. This is the ambition of DiCaglio
规模是每个人日常经历的一部分，并不是所有这些经历都像帕斯卡把人类定位在无限大和无限小之间那样充满了恐惧和敬畏。毕竟，评论一本书是一种尺度体验，因为书评人不再处理单词、句子和段落，这些是实际阅读的对象，而是完全不同的单位、观点、主张和假设(而且书评的读者在进入书本身时显然会经历类似的事情——顺便说一句，我强烈推荐)。虽然我们都一直意识到尺度的存在和重要性，但我们对它的理解仍然是初级的，这不仅是因为我们太习惯于它而忽视了它的重要性，还因为我们以错误的方式构建了它。尺度的差异通常不仅是从单一的观点(即某一学科的观点，与大多数其他观察和理解的方式分开)出发，而且是从“我们的”智人的观点出发，这将一切都带回到一种“这种尺度”或“米尺度”——约书亚·狄伽利奥用这些词来暗示，我们倾向于通过将它们与我们的自然测量系统进行比较来表达“非人类”的尺度。此外，我们还相信，在我们通过人体尺度观察到的东西和我们在其他尺度上观察到的东西之间存在一种类比，无论是微观的还是望远镜的，这是一种自然化和规范化尺度差异的方式，DiCaglio正确地将其描述为一种对尺度的非标量解释方式(例如，身体仅仅是细胞的集合，或者宇宙是恒星的简单集合)。这些错误都是人犯的，太人犯了，但它们错过了尺度的真正意义，我们中的一些人在某些情况下会体验到尺度的真正意义，而狄伽利奥将其与与整体存在的融合的印象联系起来，主体与客体、我与世界、身体与心灵等之间的界限完全消失。作者将这些体验归为“神秘的”，同时也坚持认为，将所有这些体验都视为传统意义上的宗教是错误的(宗教体验只是深度标量体验可能采取的一种形式，它当然不是理解DiCaglio最终称之为“我”与“宇宙”巧合的相遇中发生的事情的普遍关键)。换句话说，规模是不存在的。它必须被看作是一种改变主体和客体，尤其是改变它们之间关系的力量。为了掌握尺度的实际“作用”，并避免我们在尺度经验中所犯的传统错误，即所有这些错误都是对标量事实的非标量解释，我们需要一个真正的尺度理论，而不是一个缩放技术和仪器或缩放物体的理论，而是一个可以应用于任何尺度经验的一般的、非学科的方法。这就是狄格里奥这本书的抱负，它是科学研究(从人文学科的角度研究科学)的一个迷人的例子。在这方面，有必要强调的是，作者并没有像通常所做的那样，将科学研究与对科学的批评等同起来，将其视为获得真理的特权，对现实的纯粹客观研究，剥夺了“社会，个人或政治利益”(第199页)。对他来说，科学研究不是一种先验的批判方法，定位为一种“去神秘化、揭露或揭示科学的实践和主张”的形式(第199页)。虽然DiCaglio承认这种批判性阅读的必要性和有用性，但他不像许多科学研究学者那样，主编Michael Punt，副主编Hannah Drayson, Dene Grigar, Jane Hutchinson，每月在Leonardo网站www.leonardo.info/reviews上发表完整的评论。达芬奇的评论
{"title":"Scale Theory: A Nondisciplinary Inquiry","authors":"Jan Baetens.","doi":"10.1162/leon_r_02342","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1162/leon_r_02342","url":null,"abstract":"Scale is part of everyone’s daily experience, and not all these experiences are as dramatic a mix of fear and awe as Pascal’s positioning of mankind between the infinitely large and the infinitely small. After all, to review a book is a scale experience, since the reviewer is no longer dealing with words, sentences, and paragraphs, which are the object of an actual reading, but with totally different units, ideas, claims, and hypotheses (and the reader of a review will obviously go through something similar when entering the book itself—which, by the way, I can strongly recommend). Although we are all permanently aware of the presence and importance of scale, our understanding of it remains elementary, not only because we are so used to it that we neglect to scrutinize its significance, but also because we frame it in the wrong way. Differences of scale are generally envisaged not only from a single viewpoint—that of a given discipline, separated from most other ways of looking and understanding—but also that of “our” Homo sapiens viewpoint, which brings everything back to a kind of “this scale” or “meter scale”—Joshua DiCaglio uses these words to suggest that we tend to express “nonhuman” scales by comparing them with our natural measuring systems. Moreover, we also believe that there exists a kind of analogy between what we observe via our human scale and what we observe on other scales, be they microscopic or telescopic, a way of naturalizing and normalizing scale differences that DiCaglio rightly describes as a way of nonscalar interpretation of scale (the body as a mere collection of cells, for instance, or the universe as a simple collection of stars). These mistakes are human, all too human, but they miss the real meaning of scale, which some of us experience in certain circumstances and which DiCaglio links with the impression of a fusion with the whole of being, a complete fading out of the boundaries between subject and object, I and the world, body and mind, etc. The author groups these experiences as “mystical,” while also insisting that it would be a mistake to consider all of them as religious in the traditional sense of the word (the religious experience is just one of the possible forms that a deep scalar experience can take and it is certainly not the universal key to a good understanding of what happens in the encounter that DiCaglio eventually labels as the coincidence of the I and the Cosmos). Scale, in other words, is not something that exists. It must be seen as a force that changes both subject and object and above all the relationship between them. To grasp what scale actually “does” and to avoid the traditional mistakes in our experience of scale, all of them being nonscalar interpretations of scalar facts, we need a real theory of scale, not a theory of scaling techniques and apparatuses or scaled objects but a general, nondisciplinary approach that can be applied to any scale experience. This is the ambition of DiCaglio","PeriodicalId":93330,"journal":{"name":"Leonardo (Oxford, England)","volume":"13 1","pages":"205-206"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2023-02-02","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"80858753","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}
retical insights—not supplementary, not explicatory, but parallel strands of visual arguments, points of tension and intensity. Such diagramimages are operational in the sense of not depicting a stable reality but becomings involved in the surfacing of dynamic spatialization: We speak of space but in the trajectories and potentials of its transformation. On the surface of the diagram, a plethora of earth forces emerge as they carve out a space of problematics. As the authors write, “Each model considers a specific question, a problem that it unfolds in space, sometimes in time, using a borrowed and inflected archetypal figure: the globe is turned inside out like a glove, the grid of coordinates of Euclidian geometry deforms and evolves depending on the actors who cross its space, while the division of urban time bends into spirals of space-time” (p. 17). Variation becomes primary, fixity an aftereffect, implying how the authors try to move beyond the subject-object freeze-frames to a more ecological dynamic, asking thus also what this ecological dynamic means for architecture, design, and visual composition of such worlds— or more accurately, in such worlds. The book functions as a very convenient manual, useful for teaching and the already voiced connection between theory and design. It prompts consideration of other locations, other situations, other geographies that could be modeled in this vein. In a manner like some other (speculative) designers such as Design Earth (for example, their Geostories book and various exhibition projects), Terra Forma’s pedagogically useful and discursively interesting take resonates with several educational and research-driven design approaches of recent years. Here, the most obvious to mention is the Terraforming program that ran at the Strelka Institute (2022), as well as the Politics of Atmospheres studio by Elise Misao Hunchuck, Marco Ferrari, and Jingru (Cyan) Cheng that ran for three years within the School of Architecture at the Royal College of Art and was also invited to participate in the Critical Zones project led by Latour and Peter Weibel. Now translated into English a couple of years after the original French edition, Terra Forma is a great reference point for particular kinds of environmental humanities that work with architectural and design methods. It also establishes further bridges in this sort of an expanded humanities alongside questions of experimental practices of “data visualization.”
{"title":"La bande dessinée en France à la Belle époque. 1880–1914","authors":"Jan Baetens.","doi":"10.1162/leon_r_02349","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1162/leon_r_02349","url":null,"abstract":"retical insights—not supplementary, not explicatory, but parallel strands of visual arguments, points of tension and intensity. Such diagramimages are operational in the sense of not depicting a stable reality but becomings involved in the surfacing of dynamic spatialization: We speak of space but in the trajectories and potentials of its transformation. On the surface of the diagram, a plethora of earth forces emerge as they carve out a space of problematics. As the authors write, “Each model considers a specific question, a problem that it unfolds in space, sometimes in time, using a borrowed and inflected archetypal figure: the globe is turned inside out like a glove, the grid of coordinates of Euclidian geometry deforms and evolves depending on the actors who cross its space, while the division of urban time bends into spirals of space-time” (p. 17). Variation becomes primary, fixity an aftereffect, implying how the authors try to move beyond the subject-object freeze-frames to a more ecological dynamic, asking thus also what this ecological dynamic means for architecture, design, and visual composition of such worlds— or more accurately, in such worlds. The book functions as a very convenient manual, useful for teaching and the already voiced connection between theory and design. It prompts consideration of other locations, other situations, other geographies that could be modeled in this vein. In a manner like some other (speculative) designers such as Design Earth (for example, their Geostories book and various exhibition projects), Terra Forma’s pedagogically useful and discursively interesting take resonates with several educational and research-driven design approaches of recent years. Here, the most obvious to mention is the Terraforming program that ran at the Strelka Institute (2022), as well as the Politics of Atmospheres studio by Elise Misao Hunchuck, Marco Ferrari, and Jingru (Cyan) Cheng that ran for three years within the School of Architecture at the Royal College of Art and was also invited to participate in the Critical Zones project led by Latour and Peter Weibel. Now translated into English a couple of years after the original French edition, Terra Forma is a great reference point for particular kinds of environmental humanities that work with architectural and design methods. It also establishes further bridges in this sort of an expanded humanities alongside questions of experimental practices of “data visualization.”","PeriodicalId":93330,"journal":{"name":"Leonardo (Oxford, England)","volume":"5 1","pages":"217-218"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2023-02-02","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"82141556","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}
Yu-xin Zhang, Fan Tang, Weiming Dong, T. Le, Changsheng Xu, Tong-Yee Lee
Abstract The authors propose a deep neural network–based algorithm to automatically generate portrait map art (PMA), a modern art form created by British portrait artist Ed Fairburn. The authors formulate the generation of PMA as an adaptive dual-to-single image translation problem. The authors’ proposed model analyzes the appearance of one portrait and one map image using two encoder networks and utilizes their hidden encodings as representations of the portrait and map image to generate new PMA using a decoder network. An adaptive style harmonization module is proposed to fuse the two hidden encodings. Optimized by cycle-consistency constraint, the model can produce new PMA images without baselines.
{"title":"Portrait Map Art Generation By Asymmetric Image-to-Image Translation","authors":"Yu-xin Zhang, Fan Tang, Weiming Dong, T. Le, Changsheng Xu, Tong-Yee Lee","doi":"10.1162/leon_a_02323","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1162/leon_a_02323","url":null,"abstract":"Abstract The authors propose a deep neural network–based algorithm to automatically generate portrait map art (PMA), a modern art form created by British portrait artist Ed Fairburn. The authors formulate the generation of PMA as an adaptive dual-to-single image translation problem. The authors’ proposed model analyzes the appearance of one portrait and one map image using two encoder networks and utilizes their hidden encodings as representations of the portrait and map image to generate new PMA using a decoder network. An adaptive style harmonization module is proposed to fuse the two hidden encodings. Optimized by cycle-consistency constraint, the model can produce new PMA images without baselines.","PeriodicalId":93330,"journal":{"name":"Leonardo (Oxford, England)","volume":"111 1","pages":"28-36"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2023-02-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"88061228","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}
ABSTRACT:This article is a reflection on a journey of transdisciplinary partners from two different and unusually paired “sets” of disciplines: photography art (Silvio Wolf, SW) and cross-pollinated research in the fields of applied clinical neuroscience and psychoanalysis (Inna Rozentsvit, IR). This relationship originated in examining the “beholder’s share” phenomenon and moved on to further collaboration on the topics of “thresholds” and “visible/invisible,” as they relate to these two individuals’ personal and professional beings.
{"title":"Invisible Accelerators","authors":"Diana Ayton-Shenker","doi":"10.1162/leon_e_02320","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1162/leon_e_02320","url":null,"abstract":"ABSTRACT:This article is a reflection on a journey of transdisciplinary partners from two different and unusually paired “sets” of disciplines: photography art (Silvio Wolf, SW) and cross-pollinated research in the fields of applied clinical neuroscience and psychoanalysis (Inna Rozentsvit, IR). This relationship originated in examining the “beholder’s share” phenomenon and moved on to further collaboration on the topics of “thresholds” and “visible/invisible,” as they relate to these two individuals’ personal and professional beings.","PeriodicalId":93330,"journal":{"name":"Leonardo (Oxford, England)","volume":"1 1","pages":"2-2"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2023-02-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"79551957","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}
hegemonic idea of science as merely objective and blinded by empirical research. Instead, he insists on science’s rootedness and amazement and hypothetical reasoning—two forms of fundamental modesty–and thus its possible links with what is at stake in the human experience of scale. For Scale Theory, scale is essentially transformative. Part One of the book explains the major aspects of this transformation with the help of some scalar daily life experiences, which are then enlarged via a certain number of thought experiments. First, scale reconfigures what we observe: What appears on scale A becomes invisible on scale B, which can be bigger or smaller than A, and vice versa. The difference in resolution between these domains is marked by what the authors calls thresholds of observation (a typical mistake of nonscalar reading of scale differences appears for example when we directly link what we observe on scale A with what we observe on scale B). To reveal the transformative power of scale an object or a singular unit must be fundamentally differentiated: The objects we observe are also part of smaller as well as larger objects we do not observe at the same time, but which are not nonexistent for that reason. Second, the differentiated view of the objects does not relate to the object itself (when we look from further away and no longer see the trees of a forest, that does not mean that the trees themselves have changed) but to the distance between the observing eye or the observing apparatuses and the object: “Scale is created only by the relationship between . . . two very different perspectives” (p. 29). Technically speaking, “scale is the relation between one ‘over there’ and another ‘over here’ ” (p. 32). This difference has major consequences for the experiencing subject, who ceases to be a single unit; the “I” can no longer identify with one of the two scalar perspectives; instead, the “I” must identify with both (if not, the scalar experience degenerates into a nonscalar one). Third, the scalar experience also has a powerful cognitive dimension that helps move beyond the limited range of the single Homo sapiens experience. The scale experience can be scaled itself, so to speak; it produces forms of knowledge that can be stored, memorized, taught, interpreted, and so on, and therefore supersede any immediate empirical observation, scalar or nonscalar. The result of this cognitive dimension of the scale experience further complicates the possible relationships between object(s) and subject(s). Part Two of the book covers a more philosophical approach to the basic notions of scale theory: subject, object, and of course the shifting relations between them. Quite logically, given the nondual horizon of his scalar thinking, DiCaglio relies here and in other parts of the book as much on non-Western as on Western concepts and ways of thinking, which he not only confronts and contrasts, but brings together in such a way that their differences becom
{"title":"Frederik Ruysch and his Thesaurus Anatomicus: A Morbid Guide","authors":"Robert Maddox-Harle","doi":"10.1162/leon_r_02343","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1162/leon_r_02343","url":null,"abstract":"hegemonic idea of science as merely objective and blinded by empirical research. Instead, he insists on science’s rootedness and amazement and hypothetical reasoning—two forms of fundamental modesty–and thus its possible links with what is at stake in the human experience of scale. For Scale Theory, scale is essentially transformative. Part One of the book explains the major aspects of this transformation with the help of some scalar daily life experiences, which are then enlarged via a certain number of thought experiments. First, scale reconfigures what we observe: What appears on scale A becomes invisible on scale B, which can be bigger or smaller than A, and vice versa. The difference in resolution between these domains is marked by what the authors calls thresholds of observation (a typical mistake of nonscalar reading of scale differences appears for example when we directly link what we observe on scale A with what we observe on scale B). To reveal the transformative power of scale an object or a singular unit must be fundamentally differentiated: The objects we observe are also part of smaller as well as larger objects we do not observe at the same time, but which are not nonexistent for that reason. Second, the differentiated view of the objects does not relate to the object itself (when we look from further away and no longer see the trees of a forest, that does not mean that the trees themselves have changed) but to the distance between the observing eye or the observing apparatuses and the object: “Scale is created only by the relationship between . . . two very different perspectives” (p. 29). Technically speaking, “scale is the relation between one ‘over there’ and another ‘over here’ ” (p. 32). This difference has major consequences for the experiencing subject, who ceases to be a single unit; the “I” can no longer identify with one of the two scalar perspectives; instead, the “I” must identify with both (if not, the scalar experience degenerates into a nonscalar one). Third, the scalar experience also has a powerful cognitive dimension that helps move beyond the limited range of the single Homo sapiens experience. The scale experience can be scaled itself, so to speak; it produces forms of knowledge that can be stored, memorized, taught, interpreted, and so on, and therefore supersede any immediate empirical observation, scalar or nonscalar. The result of this cognitive dimension of the scale experience further complicates the possible relationships between object(s) and subject(s). Part Two of the book covers a more philosophical approach to the basic notions of scale theory: subject, object, and of course the shifting relations between them. Quite logically, given the nondual horizon of his scalar thinking, DiCaglio relies here and in other parts of the book as much on non-Western as on Western concepts and ways of thinking, which he not only confronts and contrasts, but brings together in such a way that their differences becom","PeriodicalId":93330,"journal":{"name":"Leonardo (Oxford, England)","volume":"13 1","pages":"206-207"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2023-01-28","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"85397920","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}
Abstract In Meeting the Universe Halfway, the feminist theorist Karen Barad explores the indeterminate nature of measurement. Drawing on empirical research into quantum entanglement, they develop an axiomatic approach to configuring the fundamental interconnections between processes of measurement and making. This article builds on this aspect of Barad’s work and uses it to consider how an indeterminate measuring-as-making process might manifest in music. By staging an encounter between the composer John Cage’s investigations of indeterminacy and two contemporary pieces of music—Space Golf by Hen Ogledd and Wildfires by SAULT—the author considers how a Baradian theory of measuring-as-making can be used to offer new perspectives on musical creativity.
{"title":"Measuring Is Making: The Radical Indeterminacy of Music","authors":"Matthew Lovett","doi":"10.1162/leon_a_02300","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1162/leon_a_02300","url":null,"abstract":"Abstract In Meeting the Universe Halfway, the feminist theorist Karen Barad explores the indeterminate nature of measurement. Drawing on empirical research into quantum entanglement, they develop an axiomatic approach to configuring the fundamental interconnections between processes of measurement and making. This article builds on this aspect of Barad’s work and uses it to consider how an indeterminate measuring-as-making process might manifest in music. By staging an encounter between the composer John Cage’s investigations of indeterminacy and two contemporary pieces of music—Space Golf by Hen Ogledd and Wildfires by SAULT—the author considers how a Baradian theory of measuring-as-making can be used to offer new perspectives on musical creativity.","PeriodicalId":93330,"journal":{"name":"Leonardo (Oxford, England)","volume":"53 1","pages":"194-198"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2023-01-28","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"84262529","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}
instance, are featured in the fourth chapter. She expands upon the definition of metabolism to explore the “smooth circulation of energy, transportation, and information through the urban infrastructures” to the “pathways that circulate oxygen, blood, nutrients” (p. 109). Furuhata employs Kurokawa Kishō as a central historical actor to weave together capsule architecture and contemporary critiques of petrochemicals and geoengineering. Metabolism’s capsules strike a particular ecological dilemma given their reliance on plastics. She employs Marx to focus on the political economy of production and the ecological footprint of the Metabolist architects. Furuhata concentrates on the Chisso Corporation’s nitrogenbased fertilizers that were spreading Minamata disease among the public, a form of methylmercury poisoning resulting from industrial pollution (p. 116). Metabolist architects were deeply implicated in the industry of plastics manufacturing and the resulting effects of environmental pollution. As part of the “substrata of advanced capitalism,” capsule architecture derived from plastics remains closely connected to the climatic challenges of environmental waste. In fact, the oil economy that financed Kurokawa and other Metabolists’ projects embraced domestic comfort and convenience through the dual logic of security and survival through containment (p. 117). The 1973 oil crisis halted the flow of oil into Japan, marking the decline of domestic financing for the Tange Lab and Metabolist built projects. Despite this crisis, Kenzo Tange continued designing a monumental stadium in Riyadh and temporary accommodations for pilgrims visiting Mecca. Kurokawa’s capsules later appeared in Iraq (1972). Such entanglements with the fossil fuels and petroleum industries point to the architectural experiments by the Metabolists as being contradictory. Their very existence colored by architects’ ecological interests and hope for the sustainable development of cities, they were closely tied to an economic dependency on fossil fuels and petrochemical industries, whose effects undermine the very idea of sustainability. The inevitable rise of surveillance systems and smart urbanism feature in the fifth chapter, which introduces tear gas as an elemental component of climatic media. Norbert Weiner’s connections to Japanese cyberneticians and architects foreground how tear gas was “not only immersive but communicative” (p. 137). Police use of tear gas in Japan as a form of urban governance responded to moments of crisis in civic order. Furuhata reads the correspondence between Ikehara Shikao and Weiner to supplement scholarship by Peter Galison and others who have addressed cybernetic logic and wartime geopolitics. Furuhata articulates how Tange Lab architects positioned the city as a self-regulating cybernetic organization. Optimization and organization underlying Arata Isozaki’s Festival Plaza for Expo ’70 allowed two giant robots with control rooms to modulate ambien
{"title":"The Lab Book: Situated Practices in Media Studies","authors":"A. Enns","doi":"10.1162/leon_r_02346","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1162/leon_r_02346","url":null,"abstract":"instance, are featured in the fourth chapter. She expands upon the definition of metabolism to explore the “smooth circulation of energy, transportation, and information through the urban infrastructures” to the “pathways that circulate oxygen, blood, nutrients” (p. 109). Furuhata employs Kurokawa Kishō as a central historical actor to weave together capsule architecture and contemporary critiques of petrochemicals and geoengineering. Metabolism’s capsules strike a particular ecological dilemma given their reliance on plastics. She employs Marx to focus on the political economy of production and the ecological footprint of the Metabolist architects. Furuhata concentrates on the Chisso Corporation’s nitrogenbased fertilizers that were spreading Minamata disease among the public, a form of methylmercury poisoning resulting from industrial pollution (p. 116). Metabolist architects were deeply implicated in the industry of plastics manufacturing and the resulting effects of environmental pollution. As part of the “substrata of advanced capitalism,” capsule architecture derived from plastics remains closely connected to the climatic challenges of environmental waste. In fact, the oil economy that financed Kurokawa and other Metabolists’ projects embraced domestic comfort and convenience through the dual logic of security and survival through containment (p. 117). The 1973 oil crisis halted the flow of oil into Japan, marking the decline of domestic financing for the Tange Lab and Metabolist built projects. Despite this crisis, Kenzo Tange continued designing a monumental stadium in Riyadh and temporary accommodations for pilgrims visiting Mecca. Kurokawa’s capsules later appeared in Iraq (1972). Such entanglements with the fossil fuels and petroleum industries point to the architectural experiments by the Metabolists as being contradictory. Their very existence colored by architects’ ecological interests and hope for the sustainable development of cities, they were closely tied to an economic dependency on fossil fuels and petrochemical industries, whose effects undermine the very idea of sustainability. The inevitable rise of surveillance systems and smart urbanism feature in the fifth chapter, which introduces tear gas as an elemental component of climatic media. Norbert Weiner’s connections to Japanese cyberneticians and architects foreground how tear gas was “not only immersive but communicative” (p. 137). Police use of tear gas in Japan as a form of urban governance responded to moments of crisis in civic order. Furuhata reads the correspondence between Ikehara Shikao and Weiner to supplement scholarship by Peter Galison and others who have addressed cybernetic logic and wartime geopolitics. Furuhata articulates how Tange Lab architects positioned the city as a self-regulating cybernetic organization. Optimization and organization underlying Arata Isozaki’s Festival Plaza for Expo ’70 allowed two giant robots with control rooms to modulate ambien","PeriodicalId":93330,"journal":{"name":"Leonardo (Oxford, England)","volume":"26 1","pages":"212-213"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2023-01-28","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"81191949","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}
京公网安备 11010802042870号
京ICP备2023020795号-1
扫码关注我们
求助内容：
应助结果提醒方式：