erinhurt's blog

Is it still a protest?

erinhurt — Fri, 25 Apr 2008 15:05:11 +0000

How does the space in which protest art appears affect the ways in which people respond to it? Or, even, if they see it as a protest at all?

In my class the other day, we talked about protest art. Among other things (Shepard Fairey), we looked at anti-war peace protester Brian Haw. Haw has lived in a peace camp in Parliament Square in Britain since June 2, 2001, remaining at the site full time, leaving only for court appearances.

Over time he amassed a large collection of signage (over 600 signs) that took up considerable space in the area. However, after continuous struggles with the police over his right to be there (and their attempts to remove him), Haw finally applied for a permit and was approved, but only under the condition that his demonstration site did not exceed three meters in diameter.

But the story gets better. Mark Wallinger recreated Haws' signs in an exhibit called State Britain. The description on the Tate Gallery website reads:

Mark Wallinger has recreated peace campaigner Brian Haw’s Parliament Square protest for a dramatic new installation at Tate Britain. Running along the full length of the Duveen Galleries, State Britain consists of a meticulous reconstruction of over 600 weather-beaten banners, photographs, peace flags and messages from well-wishers that have been amassed by Haw over the past five years.

Faithful in every detail, each section of Brian Haw’s peace camp from the makeshift tarpaulin shelter and tea-making area to the profusion of hand-painted placards and teddy bears wearing peace-slogan t-shirts has been painstakingly sourced and replicated for the display.

While the Tate website argues that "bringing a reconstruction of Haw’s protest before curtailment back into the public domain [...] raises challenging questions about issues of freedom of expression and the erosion of civil liberties in Britain today," I would argue that thinking about both of these visual collections raises questions about efficacy and intent. Do those who see this exhibit in the museum consider this a protest? Or do they view it more as something removed? My students argued for the latter concept, and I am tempted to agree with them. But, something should be said about Wallinger's project's ability to "save" Haw's artificats, which otherwise would be gone from the public eye. But can the exhibit still do the work that these signs did at Haw's camp?

Visual dismissal?

erinhurt — Thu, 27 Mar 2008 23:12:08 +0000

I ran across an interesting blog on Lens Culture that argues that a recent French magazine cover (posted below) equates Obama to a young, inexperienced boy.

Blogger Jim Casper writes:

This magazine is currently on the racks at news stands all over Paris, and the cover image has become one of those giant back-lit advertisements that blare from the outsides of kiosks on the streets, and ads at bus stops, and posters lining the hallways of the metro stations.

To me, it is the lowest form of pandering to prejudice. To me, it implies: "What do we get after Bush? Do you want an inexperienced cute young black kid running the US?" Of course, they never have to say this explicitily in words. Photographs and headlines can do volumes of damage all on their own. However, except for one tiny quote by Obama buried at the bottom of an inside page, the article presents policy sound bites by Clinton and McCain only, as if they are the only candidates worth listening to. Obama is dissed and dismissed with a visual racial slur.

I'm not sure that I would go so far as to call this a visual racial slur, though I do agree that the title dismisses Obama visually. While I don't have access to the article, from the blog's commentary the article itself is equally dismissive.

Ugh! Milk Gone Bad

erinhurt — Wed, 26 Mar 2008 23:58:22 +0000

Yuck!

So I've put off posting about this image because I find both it and PETA's numerous ways of using women in confusing and often objectified ways distasteful. They've titled one of their latest campaigns "Milk Gone Wild."

A just as smarmy take on Joe Francis' "Girls Gone Wild," PETA's current campaign wants to draw a connection between hot women and the dangers of drinking milk. But for me, the images they use don't add up to making any kind of supportive visual argument. Instead, they lose credibility. (Update: Some of the images below the fold might not be safe for work.)

Here are visuals of the pictures that disturb me the most:

Visual resistance

erinhurt — Wed, 19 Mar 2008 17:30:05 +0000

While scrolling through HollaBackNYC, a site that allows users to post pictures of those that harass them on the street, I came across two websites that seemed like great visual rhetoric resources. The Just Seeds Visual Resistance Artists' Cooperative offers a blog, resources, as well as information about current projects and artists. The picture below comes from a 2004 project from the Street Art Workers entitled "Whose Media?" You can also find archived material from the group's previous website here.
Just wanted to share!

You've never seen sports bras like these.

erinhurt — Thu, 28 Feb 2008 03:16:03 +0000

I ran across this via Feministing.com, and thought these almost-ads needed to be on the website. The backstory for these ads is that an ad agency pitched them to a running company, which passed on them. They are advertising sports bras, supposedly in a humorous way. They seem menacing to me:

See the other two ads after the jump:

Here are the others:

For me, the blood on these women's faces has overtones of violence, especially domestic violence. Furthermore, I find it hard to imagine that an advertising agency wouldn't be aware of these connotations.

Retouching memories?

erinhurt — Tue, 26 Feb 2008 18:09:16 +0000

The above picture comes from a website that offers pageant photo retouching. Creepy, huh? It came up during a Google search after I read this article in Newsweek about the rising trend among parents to have their children's grade school pics retouched, as early as the second grade.

The article asks to what degree does this retouching fuel self-esteem problems and unrealistic body expectations. Among those that it quotes are Danielle Stephens, a production manager for Prestige Portraits, which has studios in nearly every state, who says, "I have a 12-year-old, and I'd be afraid that if I asked for retouching she'd think she wasn't good enough." It also quotes Kelly Price, a photographer at Legacy Photo, an agency outside Philadelphia, who explains, "People want their kids to look perfect rather than teach them to appreciate their flaws." The article also interviews Cornell University historian Joan Jacobs Brumberg, author of The Body Project, which looks at the diaries of teenage girls from the 1820s through the 1980s. She explains that this trend [digitally cleaning up and perfecting faces and figures] creates "a culture of kids who are being socialized to unrealistic images" and that "girls internalize this form of self-criticism and say, 'I don't look like that.' But in reality nobody looks like that."

Of course, I completely agree with those interviewed, especially Brumberg. In addition to the above points, where do these retouchers get the standards that govern a "perfect" picture? That, to me, seems to be part of the problem.

For yet another take on this, there's an editorial in Salon.com.

But what do parents have to say? After a little poking around, I found a parenting blog where a few parents had commented on the article. Here are two of their responses:

1) Parents aren't asking that their kids be completely photoshopped. They are just asking for the monster pimple to be reduced to a red dot.

2) The first year of my son's life he had awful exzema. We finally found things that worked and cleared it up, but a year ago I was looking at his first year pictures, and it was hard to get past the rashes. So I went in and photo shopped his skin. They aren't all perfect, but they're so much better, and now you can focus on the whole picture, and not just the rash on his face, neck, and arms.
I don't see that there's anything wrong with this. Just like when I go back and take out a few zits from my face!

These responses raise several questions for me. In addition to proving Brumberg's point, they make me wonder about the kind of daily history that gets created when these kinds of small details are erased. What kind of memories will these children have of themselves, their families, and their surroundings as told by these visual images? In addition to constructing unrealistic assumptions about their bodies, what about the larger implications? What about these visual signifiers (pimples, bad haircuts, toothy smiles) as signifiers of certain times in one's life? What kind of effect might this have on how these children remember their childhoods?

Etch-a-sketch genius

erinhurt — Tue, 19 Feb 2008 00:14:52 +0000

I had to share this.

If you go to George Vlosich's website you will see his extensive collection of Etch-A-Sketch drawings, one of which is pictured below. In the "Early Times" section of his website, you can find this description of his work:

It all started in 1989 when George was ten years old on a family trip to Washington, D.C. His very first Etch A Sketch was of the U.S. Capitol done in the back seat of the car. Ten years later and thousands of hours of perfecting his talent, he received an invitation to the White House. The President and Vice President were amazed and and gladly signed their portraits. His work now is no longer considered a toy but a very rare piece of art work displayed in galleries and museums throughout the world. Little did he realize the Etch-A-Sketch would change pop-art and his life forever.

While I mainly wanted to share this, I do like to think about how the medium of this visual changed from "toy" to "art work" to "pop art." Does the medium make this art less (or more) valuable?

As easy as buying what?

erinhurt — Fri, 15 Feb 2008 16:20:39 +0000

"Should buying sex toys be as easy as buying a gun?"

That is indeed the caption of the above photograph. While this is a little too late for Valentine's Day, I thought I'd post this anyway. The photograph accompanies a Washington Post article that explains how Texas' 5th Circuit Court of Appeals finally overturned a statute that made buying sex toys illegal.

I'm so glad I was born in Oklahoma.

This is what a feminist looks like

erinhurt — Wed, 13 Feb 2008 05:54:46 +0000

On Feministing the bloggers who write for the site have started vlogging (video blogging). These first vlogs feature several of the website's various writers explaining how they came to be involved with the site.

Watching these vlogs, what immediately came to mind for me was the difference between how I perceived these bloggers' written commentary and how I perceived the same bloggers in their videos. The very medium of the video blog seems to add a kind of uncertainty to what one is saying, especially when what's being said is done so informally. While my reaction to the vlogs doesn't necessarily affect how I view the website's written commentary, these video blogs do seem to undermine the assertiveness and confidence that characterizes the writing found on the website. This is not to knock the medium of the vlog - rather, I am interested in how those viewers and/or readers will react who are ambivalent to the site's core values (as opposed to those who come to the site already in agreement with its values). What kind of effect will this have?

Skin = Liberation?

erinhurt — Tue, 05 Feb 2008 02:36:37 +0000

Recently on Muslim Media Watch , a blog post discussed what the author termed "Veil Fetish Art" (full disclosure: I found a link to this article while I was reading Feministing.com ).

The author writes: "I’ll term it 'veil fetish art,' because every featured woman has most or all of her face and her hair covered. Although the woman herself is the main focus, the veil acts as a sexual catalyst: it brands the woman as forbidden, despite the fact that you may be able to see most of her naked body. So even though she’s exposed, the veil reminds you that she’s “forbidden fruit,” and pushes the viewer to want her even more. [...] The type of liberation these images imply is a sexual one: erotic poses and come-hither eyes imply that this veiled woman just wants the freedom to be the dirty, dirty girl that she is. This simultaneously reinforces Orientalist ideas that Muslim women are oppressed (sexually as well as socially or religiously) and hypersexual. It also supports the idea that covering oneself is oppressive, and that the only way to be a liberated woman is to show some skin."

For myself, this image has a distinctly American bent to it (the Marilyn Monroe-esque pose over the grate of blowing air?). Which makes me wonder, does the author envision the audience to be an American one? This makes sense in light of the painting's "skin equals liberation" move, which is in opposition to some Muslim feminists' portrayal of the veil as a means of freedom from sexual objectification.

Plastic protest

erinhurt — Sat, 26 Jan 2008 19:56:55 +0000

In October I posted about Graziano Cecchini , who dyed the Trevi Fountain red in an effort to protest the Rome FIlm Festival. Recently Cecchini struck again, sending “half a million multi-colored plastic balls” down Rome's Spanish Steps.

In an article on the Reuters' website about the recent incident , Cecchini explains his intentions behind the gesture: “[It was] an artistic operation which shows, through art, the problems we have here in Italy. [...] The colors of the balls weren’t chosen by accident. In fact, the majority are red - I wanted people to remember the Trevi fountain”. Onlookers had different responses. Some found the incident pointless and the massive cleanup a waste of taxpayers’ money; others found it to be a beautiful work of art.

Suicide Food on your lunch break?

erinhurt — Fri, 07 Dec 2007 16:50:41 +0000

After running out of passive aggressive notes to look at when taking breaks from my work, I began branching out to the various blogs mentioned on the website. My newest favorite is Suicide Food. What is suicide food, one might ask?

Here's how the Suicide Food website describes it:

"Suicide Food is any depiction of animals that act as though they wish to be consumed. Suicide Food actively participates in or celebrates its own demise. Suicide Food identifies with the oppressor. Suicide Food is a bellwether of our decadent society. Suicide Food says, 'Hey! Come on! Eating meat is without any ethical ramifications! See, Mr. Greenjeans? The animals aren’t complaining! So what's your problem?' Suicide Food is not funny."

Ben, the blogger who maintains the site, seems to argue that the images and explanations aren't funny. Links listed on the right side of the page (under the category "Suicide Hotline") include PostPunkKitchen, VeganYumYum, and Vegan Lunchbox. The websites commentary is not only hilarious, but offers great examples of visual rhetorical analysis.

Unfair advantage?

erinhurt — Tue, 27 Nov 2007 03:26:07 +0000

The Human Rights Campaign's Daily Newsletter recently spotlighted an article in The New York Times about Michelle Bruce, a 46 year old politician in Riverdale, GA.

As the paper reports, "Bruce is battling a lawsuit by an unsuccessful opponent who claims she misled voters by running as a woman." Of the four candidates that ran for a City Council seat, Bruce received the most votes. The third place finisher, Georgia Fuller, followed with her lawsuit. In explanation, she claims that "voters in Riverdale tended to favor female candidates, particularly if they were incumbents" and her lawyer claims that it gives Bruce an "unfair advantage."

This lawsuit not only reeks of sore loser-ness, but also flagrantly dismisses Bruce's choice of gender. Fuller's claim also ignores the ways in which Bruce chooses to present and label her body and instead imposes her own biologically-based label. I find it ironic, however, that Fuller argues that Bruce gains an advantage by her adopted gender. I would argue that Fuller's ability to file the lawsuit in the first place challenging Bruce's chosen gender indicates that she holds her own kind of advantage.

Shepherd Fairey Has a Posse

erinhurt — Mon, 05 Nov 2007 20:49:38 +0000

I remember when I used to live in Portland in the late 90s, and I would see these stickers of Andre the Giant in all the bus stops. I never knew what they meant, but I liked them well enough to peel one off a bus stop wall and stick it on my bike.

I discovered several years later that the artist behind the "André the Giant Has a Posse" sticker campaign is Shepherd Fairey , which he created while attending the Rhode Island School of Design (RISD) in 1989. The "André the Giant Has a Posse" sticker campaign later evolved into the "Obey Giant" campaign.

We looked at this image in my class today, and I casually asked them, "What is the rhetorical effect of a visual image if you can't identify the argument - or even the claim?" While my initial answer to this question would be that the visual must not be very effective at all, upon further consideration, this absolutely can't be the case. Visual images are frequently coupled with arguments to which they have no direct relationship in order to sell products or catch the attention of the public. But what I find fascinating about Shepherd's work is that there is often no discernible argument at all, unless you are already familiar with his work and his viewpoints. So what *is* the rhetorical effect? Shepherd himself describes his current work as "[an attempt] to stimulate curiosity and bring people to question both the campaign and their relationship to their surroundings. Because people are not used to seeing advertisements or propaghanda for which the motive is not obvious, frequent and novel encounters with Obey propaganda provoke thought and possible frustration, nevertheless revitalizing the viewer's perception and attention to detail." And people seem to love it.

Making a public argument with the Trevi Fountain

erinhurt — Fri, 26 Oct 2007 03:26:29 +0000

In my rhetoric course, I ask students to find and bring in examples of protests. This week, one of my students brought in a news story about a man (Graziano Cecchini) who poured red dye into the Trevi fountain in Italy.
According to The Guardian , "Police found leaflets near the fountain signed by a rightwing group claiming responsibility for the act. The leaflets said the red paint was a protest at the cost of organising the Rome Film Festival and symbolically referred to the event's red carpet."

The image Cecchini creates is striking - pictures of it abound on the internet in spite of the fact that Italian authorities had the paint and fountain cleaned up in a matter of hours. I find Cecchini's protest to be effective in terms of garnered publicity and awareness, but find that it drops the ball in terms of connecting viewers with his actual issues about the Film Festival. But, as we discussed in class, protests whose aim is first and foremost publicity often aren't necessarily concerned with making specific points but rather raising awareness in a more general kind of way. I'm not sure if I find this to be true most of the time, but it does seem to be the case with Cecchini's particular protest - and it works.

The Wire and Cities That Matter

erinhurt — Sun, 21 Oct 2007 19:19:29 +0000

I just finished reading an article in The New Yorker about HBO's The Wire, a gritty drama set in the city of Baltimore. Each season the show focuses on a different aspect of the city, beginning with drug dealers on the streets and gradually moving outwards to include the labor unions at the docks, the politicans, and in its fifth and final season, the news and those who cover it. More often than not, the shows paints an image of the city that is grim and hopeless.

At the end of the article, David Simon, the show's creator, explains a new show he is working on that will be set in New Orleans. He says, "This [new] show will be a way of making a visual argument that cities matter. ‘The Wire’ has not really done that. I certainly never said or wanted to say that Baltimore is not worth saving, or that it can’t be saved. But I think some people watching the show think, Why don’t they just move away?” The article' author adds, "Indeed, the City Council of Baltimore once nearly passed a resolution that proposed steps to counter the bad image of Baltimore propagated by “The Wire.” In 2005, the Sun quoted a report by an image-consulting company that the city had hired. 'Baltimore is plagued by negative press and harmful characterizations in the media, resulting in an inferiority complex,' it said. 'The perception of Baltimore is ‘The Wire,’ ‘The Corner,’ ‘Homicide’ . . . a hopeless, depressed, unemployed, crackaddicted city.' And, under the headline “NO WAY TO TREAT A TOWN,” a reviewer for the New York Post quipped, “I don’t know this Simon guy, but he doesn’t seem to like Baltimore very much, although he makes a very good living writing about it.”

The whole point of the show, however, is to demonstrate not only that Baltimore and its residents are frequently shortchanged by those with the power to do so, but to show the terrible results. Therefore, I find Simon's statement confusing because, in fact, his show does seem to make an argument that cities matter.

Mac vs. PC in the classroom

erinhurt — Mon, 08 Oct 2007 20:43:46 +0000

When teaching a rhetoric course, I love to use the Apple Commercials to show my students an example of real-world ethos.

We talk about the various logical arguments that these commercials make (e.g. Macs don't get viruses, their applications are geared towards creative projects, they are easy to use, etc.). Then we look at how these commercials construct a Mac ethos literally through clothing, posture, body language, etc. One that works particularly well is the Counselor Ad, in which Mac is able to compliment PC but PC can only find rude things to say in response. My students have a good time close-reading this commerical and pointing out how PC's appearance and actions are meant to influence our own feelings towards the Mac product.

Critical Mass and Visual Protest

erinhurt — Wed, 03 Oct 2007 14:24:31 +0000

In my "Rhetoric if Protest" class today, I had my students watch We Are Traffic, a documentary directed by Ted White about the xerocratic protest group Critical Mass. This group relies on several key elements of visual rhetoric to both make their points within their local communities and to spread their ideologies nationally and internationally. I find these to be excellent classroom resources.

One way that Critical Mass spreads its message is through their flyer exchange . Each flyer offers a visual representation of how a particular Critical Mass community decided to present their ride - some are more informative, others are more political.

Also featured in the documentary is an artist by the name of Rigo23 , whose murals often take the form of street signs but impart drastically different messages by building eco-friendly meaning onto these pre-existing symbols. He explains (I'm paraphrasing here) that as a pedestrian and biker he found roadway symbols to be nonsensical (he uses the example of the one way street, which only seems to apply to cars) yet if one disobeys these symbols the result can be a city fine or even injury. His protest murals bring attention to the signs themselves, the meanings (or arguments) that we already attribute, and then add another layer of meaning. I found them to be one of the more interesting aspects of the documentary.