viz. - rhetoric of the body

Medical Art: All That Glitters is Not...Cystic Acne

emcg — Thu, 16 Sep 2010 00:46:11 +0000

Image Credit: Laura Kalman, Cystic Acne, Back (2009)

In a post earlier this week, Cate discusses “Freeze! Revisted,” an art project that literalizes our consumption of violence. In response to the “sensual suicide” of mod-pixie models sucking on gun-shaped popsicles, I offer these blinged-out (and beautiful?) representations of diseased female bodies.

In her series “Blooms, Efflorescence, and Other Dermatological Embellishments,” Lauren Kalman photographs models wearing jewelry arranged to mimic the skin infections, rashes, and sores that manifest underlying medical conditions. With remarkable spareness, Kalman’s images manage to shorthand a number of issues at the intersection of health, beauty, and consumption. The temporariness of the jeweled piercings (specifically, gold acupuncture needles adorned with semi-precious stones) mirrors the fleeting surface visibility of long-dormant diseases like syphilis. At the same time, the relative permanence of these materials underscores our bodily impermanence, a susceptibility to disease and decay that we attempt to “ward off” through consumption of “talismanic commodities” like jewels. As Jessica Palmer of Bioephemera notes, do the images also suggest that there is something “sick” about female consumption and body modification in the service of ideal beauty?

Image Credit: Lauren Kalman, Wart (2009)

Via Bioephemera

For me, the most intriguing aspect of this series is the provocative way it links commercial and medical representations of the “imaged body” (Kalman’s term). By connecting these seemingly disparate classes of images, Kalman calls attention to “the similarities between images that intend to project ideals and those that display subversive or even abject bodies. For example medical imagery, pornography, and advertising display anatomy, often using similar positions and compositions.”

Image Credit: Lauren Kalman, Nevus Comedonicus (2009)

Via Bioephemera

In class, it might be interesting to talk about why the photos are jarring—how do they subvert the binaries of health/disease, nature/culture? But while unsettling, are these images also beautiful? (Or, frisson-style, does their sexiness stem in part from the discomfort they provoke?) If so, is that in part because, while they undercut viewers' expectations, they simultaneously conform to certain conventional representations of (white, young, healthy) women? Kalman’s earlier series “Hard Ware” (2006) transforms jewelry into grotesquerie, as in the mouth encrustation below. Other pieces turn “shameful” bodily fluids (saliva, snot) into cartoonish, expensive-looking adornments. Less explicitly "diseased," these bodies are also less ambiguously repulsive: in "Hard Ware," jewelry takes on a runny or crusty or monstrous bodiliness, while in "Blooms" disease becomes abstracted, idealized.

Image Credit: Lauren Kalman, Lip Adornment (2006)

Via Bioephemera

Historical Anatomies: Visualizing the Body

Andi — Thu, 25 Mar 2010 20:38:03 +0000

Image Credit: Sarlandière, Jean-Baptiste. Anatomie méthodique, ou Organographie humaine en tableaux synoptiques, avec figures.

(Paris: Chez les libraires de médecine, et chez l'auteur, 1829).

Historical Anatomies on the Web

This week I thought I play far afield from my usual subject areas by exploring the image database for the National Library of Medicine, History of Medicine Division. This database--Historical Anatomies on the Web--showcases many high-quality digital images of the NLM’s collection of illustrated anatomical atlases dating from the 15^th to the 20^th century. The quality of the images, the detailed historical introductions to each anatomical atlas, and the descriptions of the illustration techniques all contribute to the immense pedagogical potential of this collection.

Accompanying this collection of images is an online exhibition called Dream Anatomy centered on the history of anatomy as a field. This interactive online component of the database explores the many ways that anatomy has evolved and considers how the history of depicting the human body has always moved toward a “visual vocabulary of realism” (Dream Anatomy).

Image credit: Gersdorff, Hans von. Feldtbůch der Wundartzney : newlich getruckt und gebessert.

(Strassburg: Hans Schotten zům Thyergarten, [1528]).

Historical Anatomies on the Web

Both the images in the database and many in the online exhibition are in the public domain and so may be freely distributed and copied when given proper acknowledgement (click here for more on use). While the collection is not easily searchable, it is incredibly fun to browse. Each page is full of detailed thumbnails so scanning the many images in each atlas is a quick way to familiarize yourself with what types of illustrations are in the collection. It seems likely that these images would be helpful for viz. readers working with or teaching the rhetoric of the body, the history of medicine, or the rhetoric of science.

Bodies of Evidence

EmilyBloom — Tue, 06 Oct 2009 20:16:14 +0000

Image Credit: The Museum of Fat Love

H/T: Layne Craig

Amidst massive media coverage of the “obesity epidemic,” visual arguments have emerged online that challenge the terms of the current debate. One example is the website, The Museum of Fat Love, which presents a collection of photographs of smiling couples. Similarly, Newsweek ran a series of photographs on their website titled “Happy, Heavy and Healthy” in which readers submitted pictures of themselves performing athletic feats. Both websites called for volunteers to submit evidence that individuals classified as overweight or obese can live healthy, happy lives. The use of visuals in both instances is striking—both websites are predicated on the understanding that overweight individuals have been misunderstood (perhaps even vilified) in the course of public debates on obesity and public health.

These photo collections led me to consider representations of obesity in other media and, particularly, the cropped photographs that feature so regularly on local nightly new programs. Why is it that obesity is so often represented by a headless body? Although the obvious answer is to protect the identity of these individuals, such images paint an eerily dehumanized portrait of obesity. The obesity debate has created a strange visual rhetoric that photographic montages such as The Museum of Fat and “Happy, Heavy and Healthy” may be attempting to reorient.

Image Credit: MSNBC

In a recent article in Slate Magazine, "Glutton Intolerance," Daniel Engber argues that social stigmas against overweight individuals are not only deplorable but may actually cause the health problems associated with obesity. Citing a study by epidemiologist Peter Muennig, Engber writes that weight discrimination contributes to the stress-related illnesses that are generally attributed to obesity. If weight-stigma is itself a public health “epidemic” then perhaps visual evidence for active, well-loved plus-size people may perform an important function in undermining stigmas and, thereby, relieving dangerous stress.

Meat Joy

dsmith — Tue, 30 Sep 2008 18:16:43 +0000

Carolee Schneeman’s controversial sixties-era films remain to my mind some of the most visually provocative reflections on the “deep and meaningless” facets of life during that turbulent period. Meat Joy (1964), made during an era of U. S. Cold War propaganda, Vietnam War escalation, and multiple political assassinations, celebrates flesh in a context that, at first, may seem anachronistic. And yet, American military and economic claims on the world provided artists of the period a safe space to reflect on the body and cultural taboos associated with libidinal experience.

Today, Meat Joy is a delight to view. The French voices and Dylan-esque harmonica background provide a feeling of joie de vivre that correlates with the playful embraces of scantily clad women and men. When processed fish, chicken, and sausage enter this orgy, I thought, okay, Schneeman is going to drive the metaphor down our throats (maybe not literally, but close enough). But visually, the performance remains so compact, visually kinetic and complex, and surprisingly light-hearted, that the gesture of, say, a fish, squeezed up tight between a young woman’s thighs, is, well, marvelous to behold in this context.

Schneeman’s argument, however, materializes the body—bringing it out of our minds, where too often it exists in submission to social and cultural ideals. By recontextualizing bodies on a stage in orgiastic abandon to the performative moment, the arms, legs, and torsos we see give definition to the space around them, and ask viewers to see bodies at play as they explore tabooed social boundaries.

Fuses (1967), by contrast, presents bodies in a much more intimate, domestic setting. With only ambient beach sounds to supplement the 22-minute, 16 mm film, the intimacy between Schneeman and her lover, James Tenney, is mediated through frequent narrative cuts, image-layers, and post-production manipulation of the celluloid itself. Despite the occasional glistening, post-coital cock, Fuses distances the audience from an experience of literal fucking. Instead, viewers witness an argument for how sexuality can be internalized and reflected on as an experience of the mind as well as of the body. If anything, the film is grounded in a mimesis that recalls the mental state during sex, with rapid image juxtapositions, visual submission to the body, ambient sources of light through a window, intrusions from a pet cat, and glimpses of the face of the other.

While the argument is made in a specifically hetero-context, the intrusion of ecstatic otherness often experienced in sexual intimacy is revealed here, making this a unique, and valuable, film about an area of life that typically remains hidden from popular view. Unlike pornography, which is about manipulating the image-as-product, aiming stylized sexual acts at a particular audience’s desire for physical gratification, Fuses, with its gorgeous shifts of light over the room and textured visual tableau, invites speculation from viewers on attitudes about sexuality, bodies, and expressive, if unconscious, forms.

I find films such as these compelling because they challenge our notions of suasion in the epideictic mode. Without explicit narratives—or even spoken arguments—we are left with the performative gestures of the visual frames of the films themselves.

The Serious Side of Sarcasm

Jillian Sayre — Fri, 29 Feb 2008 20:18:38 +0000

Is sarcastic, rather than bitch, the new black? To build on our discussions of the image of women in politics (see John's post about Michelle Obama's halo and Tim's recent post about Hillary and/as the Devil), I find the discussion of the two women's "edgy" humor to be quite interesting and I think it affects the way that their images are produced and read.

Katie Couric, The New York Times, the Wall Street Journal, and now Newsweek have all noted how Obama's rhetoric contrasts with the optimism and hopefulness of her husband's campaign. But while most of these sources will present the trait as positive (albeit dangerous), the Times for instance called Obama "Outspoken, strong-willed, funny, gutsy", Clinton is considered dour or angry.

The funny thing is, the visual argument seems to be presented in the opposite manner. Newsweek's profile of Michelle Obama featured a good deal of "stern" pictures, despite the frequent mention of her humor in the text (she pokes fun of her husband, makes frequent jokes that not everybody gets). Despite a few nostalgic young Obama shots (and the cover which features a controlled smile on a woman who seems almost to be physically restraining herself), most of them looked like this:

both images property of Newsweek

Hillary, on the other hand, as Tim's devil picture indicates and as Jon Stewart has pointed out, seems discomforting in her happiness, the "hard-nosed realist" who enjoys lambasting hope and faith. When she makes these sarcastic comments in speeches and during debates, she smiles, even laughs. While I think we would agree that this normally says, "hey, joke here!" it is read by these critics as over-rehearsed or abusively cynical.

Perhaps what I am most intrigued by in this debacle is the disjunct of rhetorical strategy and analysis. While Obama's serious posture is productively rebellious, making her a thoughtful as well as humorous (Newsweek says that she's not the expected "Stepford booster, smiling vacantly at her husband and sticking to a script of carefully vetted blandishments"), I think Clinton joyfully produces her barbs so that the listener is encouraged to hear her and laugh along, a sort of benevolence. The effect, though, is suspicion and distance; these critics argue that her smiles actually isolate the audience and I wonder what context creates this reading.

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.

Miss Landmine Angola

John Jones — Mon, 19 Nov 2007 01:11:59 +0000

Miss Landmine Angola is an art project by Morten Traavik designed to raise awareness for Angolan landmine survivors. Here’s the Miss Landmine Manifesto:

* Female pride and empowerment.
* Disabled pride and empowerment.
* Global and local landmine awareness and information.
* Challenge inferiority and/or guilt complexes that hinder creativity-historical, cultural, social, personal, African, European.
* Question established concepts of physical perfection.
* Challenge old and ingrown concepts of cultural cooperation.
* Celebrate true beauty.
* Replace the passive term ‘Victim’ with the active term ‘Survivor’

And have a good time for all involved while doing so!

The project is complicated, seeing as it is based on the controversial beauty-contest model, but it might serve as a useful classroom example for talking about the body and the ways it can be represented.

via: Boing Boing

Women in Art (more rhetoric of the montage)

Jillian Sayre — Thu, 08 Nov 2007 02:04:45 +0000

Perhaps a good point of departure for a discussion of Women in Film would be the creator's earlier attempt to give us an overview of Women in Art:

Does high art create/communicate normative body structures or gender roles in the same way as popular culture?

Perhaps it is the chronological extension (this montage covers 400 more years than Women in Film) but the faces here seem to resist the homogenous beauty of the doe-eyed starlet. On the other hand, it is also interesting to note a similar lack of racial diversity. If modern cinema produces 3 African American actresses, 500 years of Western art produces none.

Women in Film

Justin Tremel — Mon, 05 Nov 2007 20:52:52 +0000

I recently read a New Yorker article that mentioned the spell-binding youtube video "Women in Film" seen below. It's quite mesmerizing, have a look.

In the article, author David Denby points out certain common visual elements that the diverse group of female stars all share:

The video "Women in Film," on YouTube, morphs the faces of female stars, from the silent period to the present, in a continuous progression, making it clear that eyes may be freakishly pinned open (Crawford) or flirtatiously half closed (Marilyn Monroe), but they must be liquid and voluminous. And lips must be full, the lower gently crescented and the upper a perfect bow. The women were often filmed with chin raised, looking up at men, so the neck had to be a clean line, the shoulders pliant and yielding. Women's hair in the glamour period was curtain and foliage, the luxurious motif of sexual abandon.

The video seems to me a good compliment to the Dove campaign discussed previously on Viz. In a rhetorical avenue of inquiry that places so much emphasis on images of the female body, it is compelling to see how much significant visual study can be done, even when concentrating on simply the face in monochrome. Our students may not recognize any of the earlier Hollywood stars, but I think they'll find the last thirty seconds of the video quite compelling when the morphs take on the faces that they are very familiar with.

The full text of Denby's article isn't currently available online from the New Yorker, though you can find an abstract. You can, however, access his article in html via Academic Search premier:

FALLEN IDOLS. By: Denby, David. New Yorker, 10/22/2007, Vol. 83 Issue 32, p104-114, 7p; (AN 27150834)