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Modern Ruins: Remembrance, Resistance, and Ruin Value
Marrakech, embedded in the Haouz Plain north of the High Atlas, was founded by the Almoravids in the XIth century. With the city’s flourishing political, cultural and economic development from the XIth/XIIth century onwards, a neighbourhood of tanneries was established in the eastern part of the medina, still existing today. The artisanal transformation of raw animal skins into high-quality leather and its processing into various products has thus represented an important cultural heritage for almost a millennium. A new research project ‘dbagh’ sheds light on this complex topic from an anthropological and archaeological perspective. The focus is on precise documentation of the ‘traditional’ tanners’ quarter in order to document the tacit knowledge handed down over generations, as well as the material culture and structures. In addition, a little-known area of small tanneries to the north of the medina will be analysed.
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العنوان: الآبار والقدور وطيور الحمام: مشروع جديد حول الآثار الأنثروبولوجية للدباغين بمراكش
ملخص: تأسست مدينة مراكش، الواقعة في سهل الحوز شمال الأطلس الكبير، على يد المرابطين في القرن الحادي
عشر. ومع ازدهار المدينة سياسياً وثقافياً واقتصادياً منذ القرن الحادي عشر/ الثاني عشر فصاعداً، تم إنشاء حي للمدابغ في
شرق المدينة، والذي لا تزال معالمه قائمة حتى اليوم. وبالتالي، فإن صيرورة التحويل الحرفي للجلود الحيوانية إلى جلد عالي
الجودة ومعالجتها، للحصول على منتجات مختلفة، يمثل بح ق تراثاً ثقافياً مهماً منذ ما يقرب من ألف عام. ويلقي مشروع بحث
جديد بعنوان: ”دباغ“، الضوء على هذا الموضوع المعقد من منظور أنثروبولوجي وأثري. ومن ناحية أولى، ينصب التركيز
على التوثيق الدقيق لحي المدابغ التقليدي، من أجل دراسة المعرفة الضمنية التي توارثتها الأجيال، فضلاً عن الثقافة المادية
وهياكل الانتاج. وعلاوة عل ى ذلک، وقع الحرص عل ى تحليل مكونات منطقة غير معروفة من المدابغ الصغيرة في شمال المدينة.
A joint lecture with Peter Sloterdijk to explore the two concepts of "sphere" and of "network", the paper (in line with 112) shows that there is only an apparent contradiction between the two concepts, contradiction that is maintained only as long as the nature/society trope is maintained. Both concepts act as an alternative definition of space and, although they seem to restrict the expansion of modernism concepts (especially nature), they are in effect the only way to find rooms for the artificial and material conditions of an ecological space.
This paper is a case study of the trams now kept at Depot No. 5 at Legnicka 65 in Wrocław, Poland. The site provides a context for exploring two core issues around archaeological approaches to the contemporary past. The first is how materiality and immateriality are deeply interwoven in the context of modern heritage sites, with the overlap providing the grounds for discussion on the material theology of modern ruins. The second is the consequences of seeing modern ruins as heritage sites worth preserving for future generations. The conclusion of this paper is that if heritage is to be saved, it should be saved first of all from its saviours.
Scholarly interest in ruins and derelict spaces has intensified over the last decade. We assess a broad selection of the resulting literature and identify several key themes. We focus on how ruins may be used to critically examine capitalist and state manifestations of power; we consider the way in which ruins may challenge dominant ways of relating to the past; and we look at how ruins may complicate strategies for practically and ontologically ordering space. We speculate about the motivations for this surge of current academic interest, draw out resonances with current trends in geographical thinking, and suggest directions for future research.
Intangibility has become a trendy term within heritage studies and is now even considered to refer to heritage in general. This article discusses this development, along with its integrity and consequences for the fate of things in the heritage discourse. With reference to the concrete ruins of Iceland’s recent past it addresses the traditional and contemporary processes of discrimination and othering within heritage definitions, and the often fragile dialectic between heritage and waste. With a foothold in these very concrete and tangible remains the article questions the emerging claim ‘that all heritage is intangible’ and suggests that a broader heritage conception, and a true concern for the very tangible qualities of things, may bring us closer to a comprehension of the (heritage) value of these modern ruins.
The economic boom and subsequent collapse (Hrun) of the mid 2000s had a marked effect on Reykjavík, leaving various half-finished and empty structures with uncertain futures. Although the material culture of the economic collapse has been examined to some degree, the abandoned building sites have not. The Icelandic heritage discourse has so far had very little engagement with twentieth-century materiality and even less with twenty-first-century materiality but this paper contends that these places can nevertheless be seen as heritage. In order to engage with such places, the Icelandic authorized heritage discourse must be significantly broadened.
This article is about our relationship with things; about the abundant material geographies that surround us and constitute the very possibility for us to be the beings that we are. More specifically, it is about the question of the possibility of an ethical encounter with things (qua things). We argue, with the science and technology studies tradition (and Latour in particular), that we are the beings that we are through our entanglements with things, we are thoroughly hybrid beings, cyborgs through and through - we have never been otherwise. With Heidegger we propose that a human-centred ethics of hybrids will fail to open a space for an ethical encounter with things since all beings in the sociomaterial network - humans and non-human alike - end up circulating as objects, enframed as 'standing reserve', things-for-the-purposes-of the network. We suggest that what is needed is an ethos beyond ethics, or the overcoming of an ethics - which is based on the will to power - towards an ethos of letting be. We elaborate such a possibility with the help of Heidegger, in particular with reference to the work of Graham Harman and his notion of 'tool-being'. From this we propose, very tentatively, an ethos that has as its ground a poetic dwelling with things, a way of being that lets being be (Gelassenheit). We show how such a poetic dwelling, or ethos of Gelassenheit, may constitute the impossible possibility of a very otherwise way of being with things - an ethos of a 'community of those who have nothing in common' as suggested by Alphonso Lingis.
In this article, I look at “imperial formations” rather than at empire per se to register the ongoing quality of processes of decimation, displacement, and reclamation. Imperial formations are relations of force, harboring political forms that endure beyond the formal exclusions that legislate against equal opportunity, commensurate dignities, and equal rights. Working with the concept of imperial formation, rather than empire per se, the emphasis shifts from fixed forms of sovereignty and its denials to gradated forms of sovereignty and what has long marked the technologies of imperial rule—sliding and contested scales of differential rights. Imperial formations are defined by racialized relations of allocations and appropriations. Unlike empires, they are processes of becoming, not fixed things. Not least they are states of deferral that mete out promissory notes that are not exceptions to their operation but constitutive of them: imperial guardianship, trusteeships, delayed autonomy, temporary intervention, conditional tutelage, military takeover in the name of humanitarian works, violent intervention in the name of human rights, and security measures in the name of peace.
After Modernity summarizes archaeological approaches to the contemporary past, and suggests a new agenda for the archaeology of late modern societies. The principal focus is the archaeology of developed, de-industrialized societies during the second half of the twentieth century and the beginning of the twenty-first. This period encompasses the end of the Cold War and the beginning of the 'internet age', a period which sits firmly within what we would recognize to be a period of 'lived and living memory'. Rodney Harrison and John Schofield explore how archaeology can inform the study of this time period and the study of our own society through detailed case studies and an in-depth summary of the existing literature. After Modernity draws together cross-disciplinary perspectives on contemporary material culture studies, and develops a new agenda for the study of the materiality of late modern societies.
Transporting readers from derelict homesteads to imperiled harbors, postindustrial ruins to Cold War test sites, Curated Decay presents an unparalleled provocation to conventional thinking on the conservation of cultural heritage. Caitlin DeSilvey proposes rethinking the care of certain vulnerable sites in terms of ecology and entropy, and explains how we must adopt an ethical stance that allows us to collaborate with-rather than defend against-natural processes. Curated Decay chronicles DeSilvey's travels to places where experiments in curated ruination and creative collapse are under way, or under consideration. It uses case studies from the United States, Europe, and elsewhere to explore how objects and structures produce meaning not only in their preservation and persistence, but also in their decay and disintegration. Through accessible and engaging discussion of specific places and their stories, it traces how cultural memory is generated in encounters with ephemeral artifacts and architectures. An interdisciplinary reframing of the concept of the ruin that combines historical and philosophical depth with attentive storytelling, Curated Decay represents the first attempt to apply new theories of materiality and ecology to the concerns of critical heritage studies. © 2017 by the Regents of the University of Minnesota. All rights reserved.
Abandoned factories, shipyards, warehouses, and refineries are features of many industrialized cities around the world. But despite their state of decline, these derelict sites remain vitally connected with the urban landscapes that surround them. In this enlightening new book, Alice Mah explores the experiences of urban decline and post-industrial change in three different community contexts: Niagara Falls, Canada/USA; Newcastle-upon-Tyne, UK; and Ivanovo, Russia. Employing a unique methodological approach that combines ethnographic, spatial, and documentary methods, Mah draws on international comparisons of the landscapes and legacies of industrial ruination over the past forty years. Through this, she foregrounds the complex challenges of living with prolonged uncertainty and deprivation amidst socioeconomic change. This rich comparative study makes an essential contribution to far-reaching debates about the decline of manufacturing, regeneration, and identity, and will have important implications for urban theory and policy.
Human artefacts are involved in an enduring process of transformation. The unrelenting phenomenon produces an immense and ever increasing quantity of ruins, remains, dust and waste, which can be hardly classified and allocated. Moreover, the ruins stimulate strong emotions giving rise to lively discussions among human beings, ending up often in harsh conflicts. The approach to what is left of old constructions is quite different, according to origin, cause and progress of the ruin. A branch of Civil Engineering dealing holistically with the mechanical aspects of the physical remains of human activity could play an essential role in the search for satisfactory solutions of the enduring dilemma of engineering decisions concerning ruins in compliance with new enterprises.
The archaeology of the contemporary past is becoming an important subfield within the discipline and one attractive not only to archaeologists but to social scientists and artists. The period that started with World War I, here identified as “supermodernity,” has been characterized by increasing devastation of both humans and things and the proliferation of archaeological sites, such as battlefields, industrial ruins, mass graves, and concentration camps. The mission of a critical archaeology of this period is not only telling alternative stories but also unveiling what the supermodern power machine does not want to be shown. For this we need to develop a new kind of archaeological rhetoric, pay closer attention to the materiality of the world in which we live, and embrace political commitment without sacrificing objectivity.
In Vibrant Matter the political theorist Jane Bennett, renowned for her work on nature, ethics, and affect, shifts her focus from the human experience of things to things themselves. Bennett argues that political theory needs to do a better job of recognizing the active participation of nonhuman forces in events. Toward that end, she theorizes a “vital materiality” that runs through and across bodies, both human and nonhuman. Bennett explores how political analyses of public events might change were we to acknowledge that agency always emerges as theeffect of ad hoc configurations of human and nonhuman forces. She suggests that recognizing that agency is distributed this way, and is not solely the province of humans, might spur the cultivation of a more responsible, ecologically sound politics: a politics less devoted to blaming and condemning individuals than to discerning the web of forces affecting situations and events.
Bennett examines the political and theoretical implications of vital materialism through extended discussions of commonplace things and physical phenomena including stem cells, fish oils, electricity, metal, and trash. She reflects on the vital power of material formations such as landfills, which generate lively streams of chemicals, and omega-3 fatty acids, which can transform brain chemistry and mood. Along the way, she engages with the concepts and claims of Spinoza, Nietzsche, Thoreau, Darwin, Adorno, and Deleuze, disclosing a long history of thinking about vibrant matter in Western philosophy, including attempts by Kant, Bergson, and the embryologist Hans Driesch to name the “vital force” inherent in material forms. Bennett concludes by sketching the contours of a “green materialist” ecophilosophy.
This essay identifies the potential of an emerging archaeological turn for anthropology—and for archaeology itself. I argue that despite the critiques of the past two decades, the temporality of modernity and a belief in its exceptionalism still structure much of anthropological thought, as exemplified in the division of archaeology and ethnography and in the subfield of historical archaeology and its dystopic treatment of modern urban ruins. But alternative temporalities and analytical possibilities are also emerging, ones attentive to the folding and recycling of cultural elements that Walter Benjamin described with such philosophical depth. On the ground, Benjamin’s insights can be put to use by paying greater attention to the spatiotemporal dynamics of capitalism’s creative destruction, to the social life of ruins, and to projects that challenge the linear divide between modernity and antiquity. Releasing anthropology from progressive time necessarily entails a reintegration of the subfields and a direct engagement with recent ruins.
As the axis powers were denied access to data from international weather stations under allied control, soon after the outbreak of World War II Germany had to establish her own network of manned and automatic weather stations throughout the north Atlantic. These operations were primarily run by the Kriegsmarine and the Luftwaffe. In Greenland, several manned weather stations were established by the former. The two most successful of those were Holzauge and Bassgeiger in Northeast Greenland, each in operation for almost an entire year in 1942–1943 and 1943–1944 respectively. The allied forces, in return, had established the North-East Greenland Sledge Patrol in 1941, in order to defend the Northeast Greenland coast against German activities. In 2007 and 2008, archaeologists and historians from the National Museum of Denmark investigated the remains of the allied station at Eskimonæs on Clavering Ø (Clavering Island) and the German station Holzauge at Hansa Bugt on Sabine Ø (Sabine Island).
The degradation of cultural artefacts is usually understood in a purely negative vein: the erosion of physical integrity is associated with a parallel loss of cultural information. This article asks if it is possible to adopt an interpretive approach in which entropic processes of decomposition and decay, though implicated in the destruction of cultural memory traces on one register, contribute to the recovery of memory on another register. The article tracks the entanglement of cultural and natural histories through the residual material culture of a derelict homestead in Montana. In conclusion, the article suggests that deposits of degraded material, though inappropriate for recovery in conventional conservation strategies, may be understood through the application of a collaborative interpretive ethic, allowing other-than-human agencies to participate in the telling of stories about particular places.
In this paper I argue that in the now-extensive work on the sociology of consumption there is very little that addresses directly the important issue of disposal. Furthermore, I argue that disposal is not just about questions of waste and rubbish but is implicated more broadly in the ways in which people manage absence within social relations. I develop this argument through a critical engagement with the work of Mary Douglas, Rolland Munro, Michael Thompson, and Robert Hertz. I seek to show that disposal is never final as is implied by the notion of rubbish but involves issues of managing social relations and their representation around themes of movement, transformation, incompleteness, and return. I suggest that rather than see the rubbish bin as the archetypal conduit of disposal within consumer practices the door might be seen as a better example. This has implications for understanding questions of representation, ethics, and the management of social relations within the practices of consuming.
Archaeologies of the Contemporary Past turns what is usually seen as a method for investigating the distant past onto the present. In doing so, it reveals fresh ways of looking at both ourselves and modern society as well as the discipline of archaeology.
The contributions to this volume represent the most recent research in this area. From different theoretical perspectives a variety of contexts are examined; Art Deco and landfills, miner strikes and college fraternities and an abandoned council house as well as mass graves are all investigated. In the light of developments since the 1980s, the authors variously engage the positive insights an archaeology of the contemporary past provides. This new archaeology gives a crucial understanding of the experience of modernity and the communities it continues to affect.
Such approaches challenge the decisions and boundaries of archaeological practice where the distinction between the subject and object of study is unsettled. Moreover they challenge the 'taken for granted' of recent experience, bringing to light that which has been left hidden and unsaid, thereby serving as a critical intervention for re-describing and contesting the exclusions and inclusions of experience that shape modern life.
The affecting presence: An essay in humanistic anthropology
- R P Armstrong
- RP Armstrong
The beauty in decay: The art of urban exploration
- W G Romany
- WG Romany