wiki

The Saturday photo, part XVII: in Hawaii, at Honolulu International Airport:

flowers

The Saturday photo, part XVI: a flower arrangement, taken by Gavin Larner:

reader

The Saturday photo, part XV: In Southern California, a younger reader comes to grips with the intricacies of posthegemony:


(Many thanks to Erin Graff Zivin for the image, which she swears is totally unposed.)

visible

The Saturday photo, part XIV: Alcatraz with its various clearly visible overlapping inscriptions, from the strident disciplinary to the militant indigenous to (below, rather more subdued) the museal sanctification as National Park:

Alcatraz is definitely a ruin that bears the multiple traces of its repeated reinscriptions. Even what might otherwise have been a rather sober audio tour has to take note repeatedly of the way in which the rock and its prison have been figured by Hollywood. Much is made of the escape attempts, which threatened drama but ultimately failed to disturb the penitentiary regime. In the end, it was a combination of banal economics (the place was too expensive to run) and the slow 1960s move towards different philosophies of incarceration that did for the showpiece of America's disciplinary regime.

The prison's internal architecture does not follow the panopticon model: it has but a single cellblock, with the cells laid out in parallel thoroughfares rather than radiating from a central core. But the rock itself, in full view from the shores of the bay, offers a literally spectacular fable of the price of criminality. Much is made of the fact that prisoners could see the city, and occasionally hear (for instance) the sounds of New Year's festivities at the Yacht Club. But nothing was said about the effect that having a prison in such plain view must have had on the psychic life of San Francisco itself.

Mogadishu

The Saturday photo, part XIII: I've been browsing some of the photos of Mogadishu on Flickr. It is, of course, a quite spectacularly ruined city. But, as with (almost?) all ruins, not without its beauty. This is the old port:


Recently I ordered my own copy of Robert Ginsberg's strange book, The Aesthetics of Ruins. It's strange for many reason, and that strangeness is no doubt enhanced by the fact that it's apparently a self-published labor of love. But it is to my mind the most interesting book on ruins yet written.

Samaranch

The Saturday photo, part XII: Juan Antonio Samaranch, recently deceased former president of the International Olympic Committee, performs a fascist salute in 1974.


Samaranch is fourth from the right.

For more details on the photo, see this article from The Times. See also Andrew Jennings, "Why Juan Antonio’s right arm is more muscular than his left (It’s had more exercise!) The Love that Dare Not Speak its Name".

Hat-tip to my friend Jaume Subirana.

Calatrava

The Saturday photo, part XI: The Milwaukee art museum at dusk.


The last rays of the wintry sun hit the museum's folding roof, designed by Santiago Calatrava.

I was in Milwaukee thanks to an invitation to speak at nearby Madison. I took the opportunity to look up old haunts (I did my MA at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee) and stay with old friends.

In a brief tour of the city, piecing together my memories of fifteen years ago, realizing how much I had half-forgotten, and looking at what had changed, I found myself downtown and headed towards the museum.

I suddenly realized that I'd got there just in time to see the roof close. It was majestic, especially in the low sun surrounded by snow and looking over the lake. And it was also quite magical.

punished

The Saturday photo, part X: Daniel Santoro's "Eva Perón castiga al niño marxista leninista."


In English, "Eva Perón Punishes the Marxist-Leninist Child."

This is merely one of a series of extraordinary paintings on Peronist themes. A selection is available all on one page here, and there are still more to be seen at Santoro's website.

Now I simply have to get hold of his Manual del niño peronista.

Many thanks to Ana Vivaldi for pointing me in Santoro's direction.

Citadelle

The Saturday photo, part IX: the Citadelle Laferrière, Haiti.


OK, I know it's not actually Saturday, but I hope to say more about this in the next couple of days. I have, however, much to do in the meantime...

revolte

The Saturday photo, part VIII: "Christophe Colomb appaise une revolte a bord."


In fact, I'm trying to get any further information about this image, which comes from the Library of Congress. It seems to be a nineteenth-century French lithograph by someone called Turgis. Any information about the lithographer would be most welcome. Or about the original picture of which this is a print. Or any suggestions as to how about going about finding out such details. Thanks.

Lagavulin

The Saturday photo, part VII: Lagavulin distillery as seen from the Port Ellen to Kennacraig ferry.

Islay

The Saturday photo, part VI: a phone box near Loch Gorm, Islay.

Meanwhile, I'm now back in Vancouver.

Hallward

The Saturday photo, part V: with Peter Hallward in a Vancouver bar, following his talk on "Haiti and the Politics of Containment."


This blog has been once more in the doldrums for too long. More is to come.

HNY

The Saturday photo, part IV: dawn on New Year's Day, seen from the Rambla looking out over the Rio de la Plata, Uruguay.


A Happy New Year to all and sundry. I'm back home from travels. More substantive posting will resume shortly.

cathedral

The Saturday photo, part III: the cathedral in Santiago de Chile gears up for Christmas.

Lima

The Saturday photo, part II: Lima from the balcony of my apartment.


This is a view towards downtown, looking over the Campo de Marte from the district of Jesús María. The view is almost identical from the window over my desk, and I spend a lot of time watching people playing tennis or football down below. It's also always something of a lottery as to how many (if any) hills you can see in the distance through the city's characteristic haze. This photo's taken on a sunny and relatively clear day, but you can't see the slums rising up the hill on the left, and there's a hill on the right, out towards Lurigancho or La Molina, that's completely obscured.

During the 1980s, Shining Path set flames to mark out the hammer and sickle on these hills, to give the sense that they were besieging the capital. With the city in darkness, thanks to blackouts and sabotaged electricity pylons, the effect must have been pretty sinister. (Paloma de papel shows the guerrilla as they stage a similar scene in the highlands.) Somewhere in the trees to the far right of this shot is the "Ojo que llora" ("the weeping eye"), a monument to those killed and disappeared during the war.

dawn

Now I have a digital camera, a new feature on this blog, sporadic no doubt like any other...

The Saturday photo, part I: dawn in El Cuco, El Salvador.