History

RELATED TERMS: Historicism; Historical materialism – Marxism;

For Georg Lukacs (c.1971, 1923), in History and Class Consciousness, often said to be the inaugural text of Western Marxism, “history lies precisely in the changes undergone by those structural forms which are the focal points of man’s [sic] interaction with environment at any given moment and which determine the objective nature of both his [sic] inner and his outer life.” ‘Inner and outer life’ may be conceived in design practices as public imagination, while the imagination defined as both private (the Imaginary) and communal (the designed, material world and the Symbolic or public order it actively – i.e. actantially – maintains). The conjunction of the inner and the outer, or rather the interpenetration of the one and the other, constitutes a world and a storyworld as transmedia, environmental phenomenon.

Designs, in this context, are focalisers of historicity and ‘passing’. They are, thus, potential vehicles for re-articulating the public imagination through re-designing the public regime defined by ‘the order of things’. The Lukascian-Marxian approach is one way of translating the ‘thing-ness’ of designs into an understanding of the kind of interventions they make into socio-economic, socio-cultural, socio-political and socio-ecological practices and realities. For the Lukascian-Marxian approach, ‘things’ mask not just the transitoriness of all entities but also, more importantly, in their commodity form as fetish, the political economy, or the praxis, through which they were produced.

It is a question of how one understands the insight that the object or the objectification is, “not a thing but a social relation between persons mediated through things”. A double-edged sword, this may, on the one hand, be an anthropological recognition of our necessary dependence upon or entanglement with ‘things’, but, on the other hand, it may also be a political recognition of our vulnerability to being manipulated through specific articulations of ‘things’. This is a particularly knotted question for social semiotics.

References

Dilnot, C. (1984) ‘The State of design history, part II: problems and possibilities’, Design Issues, 1(2), pp. 3–30. doi: 10.2307/1511495.

Lukacs, G. (c.1971, 1923) History and class consciousness: studies in Marxist dialectics. Translated by R. Livingstone. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press.

Historicism

RELATED TERMS: History; Design of Narrative Environments; Metalepsis; Genealogy – Nietzsche; Aleatory

Historicism, Hal Foster (1996: 10) notes, can be negatively defined in the most simple terms as the conflation of before and after with cause and effect, by making the presumption that the prior event produces the later one.

Foster also notes that historicism in this sense pervades art history and modernist studies.

The question of how causality, temporality, narrativity and their inter-relationships are conceptualised and thought through is a crucial one for design practices. Particular care should be taken to consider whether, in your design, you are encouraging an historicist reading or reception of it, and whether this is what you intend. The issue might be expressed as follows: how can complex causality be articulated through the temporalities brought into play by the plotting of narrativity?

The issue of causality, in relation to temporality and narrativity, brings into play the notions of complexity, chaos, chance, fate and accident or, in another vocabulary, questions of determinism, over-determination and under-determination. Issues related to determination are raised in the understanding of metalepsis within the context of design practices.

Reference

Foster, H. (1996). Who’s afraid of the neo-avant-garde? In: The Return of the real: the avant-garde at the end of the century. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 1–33.

Historical Materialism – Marxism

RELATED TERMS: History; Critical Thinking; Cultural Studies; Design of Narrative Environments; Epic theatre – Brecht; Feminism and Materialism; Lefebvre; Methodology and Method;

Even though the crude teleological determinism, historicism and reductive economism of official communist ideology, or orthodox Marxism-Leninism, came to occupy the space of Marxist thinking, design practices may yet still benefit from considering a particular understanding of historical materialism, as inflected by the ‘western’ Marxist tradition (Merleau-Ponty, 1973), with its recovery of subjectivity, agency and culture. How might this be possible?

Jason Edwards (2010: 282-284) proposes that there are two ways of approaching an understanding of historical materialism.

The first is as a positivist science based on a humanist philosophical anthropology, human nature as the subject of history, and a teleological conception of history embodying a form of economic or technological determinism, as the successive development of modes of production.

The second is as the complex totality (as assemblage, a non-totalising totality?) of the material practices that are required to reproduce the relations of production over time. Thus, Edwards (2000: 284) contends, historical materialism, as a broad analysis of diverse social formations, recognises the diversity of the forms of practice that are necessary for sustaining the relations of production in very different kinds of societies.

Material practices, in this context, are taken to be regular forms of behaviour that are norm-governed and which involve a person’s relation to their body and to other bodies, as well as to experiential phenomena.

This complex whole (non-totalitarian totality) is instantiated in the everyday lives of people and, in turn, the material practices of everyday life are implicated in the political and economic power of the state and the international political economic system.

Edwards suggests that historical materialism, as conceived by Marx and Engels, needs to shed its humanism, historicism, economism and teleological determinism. This means that a more de-centred and relational conception of the subject is required, perhaps through such notions as the intercorporeal and the intersubjective conceived in materialist terms. So also is a less teleological and deterministic conception of historical change and societal organisation required, as is available, for example, through notions articulated by complexity theory.

Historical materialism, in this case, would focus on the character of everyday life and lived space, as discussed by Henri Lefebvre, for example. This examination would include the penetration of everyday life by various media and technologies of communication, as discussed by Benjamin, Adorno and Horkheimer. Furthermore, this discussion would now be extended to include internet-based, potentially participative, multimedia technologies. The relationships by means of which such ‘mass’ media and digital technologies are woven into the everyday, and the everyday is incorporated into the ordering of cities, regions, states and the international political economy, breaching the boundaries of the conception of place, can thus be seen to be multi-layered, involving both social, material and media modes of existence.

In this context, as has been noted and as Edwards (2000: 290) insists, the work of Lefebvre is of particular importance. His analyses of the experience of everyday life and the production of space through the interconnecting manifold of material and representational practices are vital for developing a meaningful historical materialism which may prove useful for the design of narrative environments.

Historical materialism, then, as one way of understanding antagonistic struggles or dramatic conflicts, may be of value in thinking about the design of narrative environments, particularly how their material aspects might be said to act within the horizon of a complex, contingent, contextual arrangement (dispositif, apparatus, assemblage, rhizome).

References

Edwards, J. (2010). The materialism of historical materialism. In D. Coole and S. Frost, eds., New materialisms: ontology, agency, and politics. Durham, NC: Duke University Press, pp. 281–297.

Merleau-Ponty, M. (1973) ‘“Western” Marxism’, in Bien, J. (tran.) Adventures in the dialectic. Evanston, IL: Northwestern University Press, pp. 30–58.

(The) Heroic

RELATED TERMS: Narratology; Protagonist; Human Actantiality

In The Hero with a thousand faces, Joseph Campbell examines many of the world’s heroic myths and stories. He ties the processes of transformation in those stories of the heroic journey to the quest to know the truest self, a task which, he avers, takes much time.

Campbell shows how,

“the heroic self seeks … a higher way of holding and conducting oneself. This heroic way offers depth of insight and meaning. It is attentive to guides along the way, and invigorates creative life. We see that the journey of the hero and heroine are most often deepened via ongoing perils. These include losing one’s way innumerable times, refusing the first call, thinking it is only one thing when it really is, in fact, quite another — as well as entanglements and confrontations with something of great and often frightening magnitude. Campbell points out that coming through such struggles causes the person to be infused with more vision, and to be strengthened by the spiritual life principle — which, more than anything else, encourages one to take courage to live with effrontery and mettle.”

(Clarissa Pinkola Estes, Introduction to the 2004 Commemorative Edition of The Hero with a thousand faces, p.xxiv)

Typically, in narratology, the hero is the protagonist of a story, the good guy or good girl with whom the audience might identify, empathise and sympathise. The notion of hero has the connotation of being ‘good’, which the notion of protagonist does not carry.

References

Campbell, J. (2004, 1949) The Hero with a thousand faces. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.

Happenings

RELATED TERMS: Avant-garde movements; Environments – Art; Installation Art; Performance and Performativity

Happenings, the forerunners of performance art, emerged from the theatrical elements of dada and surrealism. American artist Allan Kaprow first used the term in his 1959 work ‘18 Happenings in 6 Parts’ which took place over six days from 4–10 October 1959 at the Reuben Gallery, New York.

Happenings generally took place in an environment or installation created within a gallery, using light, sound, slide projections and an element of spectator participation. They proliferated through the 1960s but gave way to performance art in which the focus was increasingly on the actions of the artist.

Apart from Kaprow, notable exponents of happenings include Claes Oldenburg, Jim Dine, Red Grooms and Robert Whitman. Lawrence Rinder (2020) mentions in passing that John Cage’s Theater Piece Number 1, which took place in the summer of 1952 and is one of the seminal artistic achievements of Black Mountain College, is considered by some to be the first Happening.

References

Kaprow, A. (2014) ‘Assemblages, environments and happenings’, in Brayshaw, T. and Witts, N. (eds) The Twentieth-Century Performance Reader, 3rd edn. London, UK: Routledge, pp. 277–287.

Kirby, Michael, ed, (1965) Happenings. New York: Dutton.

Rinder, L. (2020) Hippie modernism, in Complementary modernisms in China and the USA: Art as life/Art as idea. Santa Barbara, CA: Punctum Books, pp. 511–519.

Tate, Arts Terms, https://www.tate.org.uk/art/art-terms/h/happening

Habitus

RELATED TERMS: Habitat

The Greek term hexis was translated into the Latin word habitus. Hexis, habitus or disposition is a general term for a person’s readiness to act in a certain way. It finds expression in acts of particular virtues or vices like honesty, generosity, cheerfulness, jealousy or cruelty.

The concept of habitus was introduced into anthropology by Marcel Mauss (1973) in his study, dating from 1934, of techniques of the body, to refer to the repertoire of culturally patterned postures and gestures to be found in any particular society. Habitus in Bourdieu’s theory of practice could be described as a pattern of thought-feeling. However, for Bourdieu, habitus exists only as it is instantiated in the activity itself. In other words, the habitus is not expressed in practice, it subsists in it. The purpose of Bourdieu’s placing of habitus at the centre of his theoretical project is to demolish the oppositions between mind and world and between knowledge and practice (Ingold, 2000).

References

Ingold, T. (2000) The Perception of the environment: essays on livelihood, dwelling and skill. London, UK: Routledge.

Malikail, J. (2003) ‘Moral character: hexis, habitus and “habit”’, Minerva: An Internet Journal of Philosophy, 7. Available at: http://www.minerva.mic.ul.ie//vol7/moral.html (Accessed: 24 February 2015).

Mauss, M. (1973) Techniques of the body, Economy and Society, 2(1), pp. 70–88. doi: 10.1080/03085147300000003.

Habitat

RELATED TERMS: Architecture; Ecology; Habitus; Niche; Environment

According to Prabakaran Mahdu (2013),

“Habitat is not plain place of habitation. It is a field of negotiations. Habitats transform. The network of relationships, changes in membership patterns, transitions in the power and influence of constituents and the micro- politics of negotiations transform habitats. Transformed habitats gravitate the internal sinews and thereby transform the praxis pulsations, persons. The trilogy of habitus, habitat and praxis are indistinguishably related in making each other. A person is the indistinguishable trilogy represented by a name or identity.”

References

Prabakaran, Madhu (2013) Praxis, Habitus, Habitat and Persons. Available at SSRN: https://ssrn.com/abstract=2279402 or http://dx.doi.org/10.2139/ssrn.2279402

Genre

RELATED TERMS: Story (fabula) and Plot (sjuzet or sjuzhet); Defamiliarisation, Ostranenie or making strange

Russian formalism distinguishes three aspects of story, i.e. fabula, sjuzet, and forma, which can roughly be translated as theme, discourse and genre. The first two terms, fabula and sjuzet, have been described by modern literary theorists as, respectively, the timeless or structural aspects (the tale, the story, the already told and/or already known) and the sequential or dynamic aspects of story (the telling, the plot, the as-yet unknown).

Bruner (2004: 696) argues that the timeless/structural fabula is the mythic dimension, the transcendent plight that a story is about, for example, jealousy, authority and obedience, thwarted ambition, and those other plights that are widely experienced and which articulate the human condition. The sjuzet incorporates or realises the fabula not only in the form of a plot but also in an unwinding net of language. Bruner amends Frank Kermode’s (1984) thoughts on fabula and sjuzet in story, to suggest it their relationship is like the blending of timeless mystery and current scandal. The seemingly everlasting human dilemmas of envy, loyalty, jealousy and the like are woven into the acts of Iago, Othello, Desdemona, and Everyman with a fierce particularity and localness, which James Joyce called an “epiphany of the ordinary.” This particularity of time, place, person, and event can also be found in the mode of the telling, in the discourse properties of the sjuzet, Bruner (2004: 696 ) notes.

In order to create such epiphanous and unique ordinariness through the weaving of fabula and sjuzet, Roman Jakobson proposes that the author has to “make the ordinary strange”. Such a effect depends not upon plot alone but upon language because, Bruner (2004: 696) argues, language constructs what it narrates, both semantically and pragmatically as well as stylistically.

The third aspect of narrative, i.e. forma or genre, is an ancient topic dating from Aristotle’s Poetics. A genre is plainly a type, in the linguist’s sense, of which there are near endless tokens, such as romance, farce, tragedy, Bildungsroman, black comedy, adventure story, fairytale, wonder tale and so on. In that sense, it may be viewed as a set of grammars for generating different kinds of story plots. However, it is not that alone. Genre also commits one to use language in a certain way: lyric, for example, is conventionally written in the first person/present tense, epic is third person/past tense, and so on. A question that remains an open one is whether genres are mere literary conventions; are built into the human genome, in a Jungian archetypal sense; or are an invariant set of plights in the human condition to which all persons react in some necessary way (Bruner, 2004: 697).

Thus, Bruner (2004: 697) suggests, we may ask of any story: what is its fabula (or gist, or moral, or leitmotiv); how is it converted into an extended tale and through what uses of language; and into what genre is it fitted.

Reference

Bruner, J. (2004). Life as Narrative. Social Research, 71 (3), 691–711. [Originally published in Social Research, 54 (1), Spring 1987]

Kermode, F. (1984). Secrets and narrative sequence. In On Narrative, edited by W. J. T. Mitchell. Chicago: University of Chicago Press,

Genealogy – Nietzsche

RELATED TERMS: Agonism and avant-gardism; Apparatus – Dispositif; Critical thinking; Historicism; Nihilism; Ontological designing; Philosophy

Genealogy, as defined by Nietzsche, in as far as it is an approach to historicity, meaning-production and values, has great relevance for design practices, as it permits a particular kind of understanding of the limitations of historicism in understanding historical being and change.

Hoy (1991: 276) contrasts Nietzschean genealogy with Hegelian dialectic. In dialectic, history necessarily progresses towards and culminates in the standpoint of the historian narrating the story. With Nietzschean genealogy, however, historical change is a matter of chance rather than necessity. Historical developments have both advantages and disadvantages. The category of universal progress is therefore no longer appropriate. The genealogist considers that the belief in progress serves the ideological purpose of confirming our complacency about the superiority of the present. Genealogical histories challenge other histories of the same events precisely to disrupt this complacency.

Nietzsche’s struggle with nihilism is at the centre of his thought (Gilbert, 1999) and it is a struggle which led him to develop his genealogical method. Nietzsche gave the name nihilism to his diagnosis of an unrecognised and very specific crisis within Western culture, a crisis which he saw as stemming from a triple loss: of human agency; of the foundations of truth; and of a ground of moral judgement. Nihilism created a culture cast adrift, existing with a strong but unexamined sense of loss. This was experienced as a loss of a world that rested upon fundamental meaning, whether vested in God, the absolute, truth or community. Living this loss created overt or repressed feelings of sickness, malaise and dislocation. He held two specific discourses to be responsible for this situation: Platonism and Christian morality, neither of which, he believed, provided an objective ground for moral judgement (Fry, 2012: 25-25).

It was the failure of Hegel’s attempt at a grand synthesis of Platonic and Christian thought that forced upon continental philosophy a radical rethinking and re-evaluation of both metaphysics and theology, what Heidegger has called the onto-theological tradition. Nietzsche’s re-evaluation of that tradition results in the thesis of philosophic nihilism, i.e. that philosophy itself, since Parmenides’ thesis of the identity of thought and Being, is complicitous in nurturing the modem sense of meaninglessness which Nietzsche calls European nihilism. In short, it is precisely the Platonic-Parmenidean persistent focus on ‘Being’ as a purified entity which Nietzsche sees as at the origins of nihilistic thinking (Gilbert, 1999).

For Nietzsche, philosophic nihilism denotes the awareness that our sense of the meaning and value of human life is grounded in a conception of either God or metaphysical truth, i.e. of a true world or one ultimate reality, which provided the context and the substratum for all meaning and value. Not only are all such substrata false or illusory, but they eventuate in a necessary denigration of this, the lived world of everyday experience by existing as standards by which this world is inevitably judged (Gilbert, 1999).

Nietzsche also saw that reason and logic are intimately tied to both metaphysics and Christianity. This sense of reason as the route to truth in philosophy, has led to constructions of ‘seIf’, that particularly in modernity beginning with Descartes, do not correspond to meaningful cultural and social practice. It is this disparity between meaningful experience-praxis and reason-philosophy, defined metaphysically and therefore abstractly, that Nietzsche viewed as leading to European nihilism.

Nietzsche responds to European nihilism with an exploration of the possibilities of history, foremost of which is the notion of eternal recurrence (Gilbert, 1999).

The dissolution of meaning resulted in the inability of individuals to mobilise their interpretive capability in ways that could appropriately inform or direct their actions. In a contradictory movement, conformity increased at the same time as the rhetoric of individualism proliferated. Nietzsche argued that what results from this loss of agency, the implied loss that nihilism named, was not just a sense of powerlessness but also a feeling of alienation from the individual’s creative capacity.

It was the work of Charles Darwin that sowed the seed of Nietzsche’s particular understanding of nihilism. In establishing that life was a process that depended on no agency other than itself, Darwin undercut the ground of the belief that life has a source of foundational meaning, i.e. a belief in the designing hand of God or a transcendent intelligence transcribed in nature (God’s creation). Nietzsche’s nihilism, however, has to be seen in the light of the rise of a secular society in which there arose an inflated sense of the foundational power of reason. For Nietzsche, then, there is no foundational source of meaning: not God, not nature and not reason.

Nietzsche proposed three ways of overcoming nihilism. The first is to show nihilism for what it is, i.e. the form of life that we have become. Second, he suggested that it was imperative for us to act to overthrow that which we have become, including how we view the world, ourselves and all that we understand. Third, he advocated the acquisition of historical experience, but historical experience not validated by metaphysics or religion. The first two actions, however, rely problematically on consciousness as the means to deliver the proposed changes.

History can be said to have a telos, i.e. temporal and directional drive; narrative, i.e. an ordering and interpretation of historical events; and power, i.e. that which mobilises and directs the narrative. The historicity of events does not become history until an act of narrativisation is undertaken. For Nietzsche, all history is perspectival; is not underpinned by reason; and is exclusive, arriving through processes of exclusion and inclusion. The perception of events is transformed by events in the present. We cannot escape our historicity as it constitutes our memory and experience. Against this background, Nietzsche makes a case for a genealogical method.

Genealogy is the sum of actions in situated local contexts with their own relations among logics, imperatives and practices. Genealogy seeks to attend to the connections among processes generated by socially connected actors and groups and the material events and actions that brought these social entities into existence. Genealogy arrives at the present by way of a particular mode of diagnostic history that explores critically the multiplicity of relational factors that intersect with and constitute events.

Genealogy does not accept history as received. It enacts a deep and symptomatic reading of power dispersed across plural situated practices which are not reducible to dialectical dynamics. Thus, genealogical accounts act to disrupt the notion of reason in history, while nonetheless affirming history as a source of meaning. Nietzsche, through his genealogical analysis, seeks to build an overall picture in the present that does not conceal gaps and omissions.

The genealogical method was brought into contemporary critical theory largely through Gilles Deleuze’s rigorous engagement with Nietzsche’s philosophy. It was then taken up by Michel Foucault, under the influence of Deleuze. Foucault’s later work adopted and extended the genealogical method.

The specificity of genealogical criticism as outlined by Nietzsche focused on, first, the logical, i.e. cultural formations and their ideas; the genetic, i.e. a way to name pathways, traces and relations; and the functional, i.e. the contextually specific agency of meaning. The past, as diffracted in the present, is constituted by memory and by history as a unified narrative. Very often, events, especially large, life-changing and world-transformative events, make little sense at the level of individual experience, existing as disjointed incidents amid chaos. In contrast, historical accounts arrive as a violent ordering or in contradiction to what was experienced.

Given this state of affairs, there is a need to refuse, rupture or condemn the grip of the past by subjecting its injustices and concealments to caustic criticism and judgement. Nietzsche recognised that history can cover over the past and that one has to find the force to disclose it. It is here that Nietzsche highlights the relevance of nihilism, because part of the loss of human agency which he diagnoses is evidenced by an inability to confront history critically. This inability extends the loss of agency.

We, as human beings, are the result of the confluence of our world, history and historical processes as they ontologically design the nature of our being, a relational determinate process without a single telos. To acquire agency is to be actively engaged in making history and in so doing creating that which ontologically designs the designing of a socio-materially fabricated world that in significant part designs what we are and can do. While such praxis is always against the grain of history, it comes equally from historically and culturally created resources and possibilities.

Given this characterisation, a loss of agency is a specific loss of capability to be an active, located and future-directive world-formative historical subject. This loss of agency has been compounded in the 20th and 21st centuries by the continuing instrumentalisation of reason and modern technology. The loss of agency announced in the term nihilism has been taken up in significant part in the inanimate world by technology, as mind and matter. Technology is becoming an ever-heightened means of the ontological designing of ‘being now’. Contestation centres on the designed and designing subject.

Against this, Fry argues, design, critically transformed and mobilised, can provide a re-directive mode of engagement with de-futuring technology, and as a means of regaining agency.

There may be lessons to be learned from such discourses on agency and historicity, in relation to actantiality and the formation of (societal) apparatuses, on the one hand, and in relation to design, particularly the design of narrative environments, on the other hand. The narrative environment designer, as genealogist, engages in a form of critical historiography by showing that the beliefs and values of the present, which are taken as eternal and true, are temporal, historical and subject to reinterpretation (Hoy, 1991: 278).

References

Fry, T. (2012). Becoming human by design. London, UK: Berg.

Gilbert, B. (1999). Nietzsche and nihilism [Doctoral thesis]. Department of Theory and Policy, Ontario hstitute for Studies in Education, University of Toronto. Available from http://www.nlc-bnc.ca/obj/s4/f2/dsk3/ftp04/MQ62915.pdf [Accessed 6 February 2016].

Hoy, David Couzens, ‘A History of Consciousness: From Kant and Hegel to Derrida and Foucault’, History of the Human Sciences, 4 (1991), 261–81.

Framing Narrative

RELATED TERMS:

Use for: Frame narrative

A framing narrative contains a second, or further, embedded narrative, or narratives, for which it provides a context or setting. Sometimes the framing narrative begins and ends the narrative as a whole, providing book ends. At other times, it is simply present at the beginning of the narrative, acting as an introduction. Sometimes it reappears as a linking device between a series of embedded narratives. In all cases, the framing narrative sets the scene for the embedded narrative or narratives, providing a context in which we can read and interpret what they tell.

A special form of a framing narrative is a meta-narrative, where the containing and contained narratives are thematically and/or content related.

Framing sometimes comes as nesting of narratives in which A frames B, B frames C, C frames D and so on.

Monika Fludernik (2009: 28) defines four types of framing narratives. Frames, as shown by the square brackets in the figure below, may be found at the beginning, at the end or both at the beginning and the end of a narrative. Type A in the diagram below has been called introductory framing and type B terminal framing. Type C shows frames at both beginning and end. Frame narratives may also be interpolated at some point in the text interpolated frame, as in type D in the diagram. Type A has also been referred to as missing end frame while type B has been referred to as missing opening frame.

Source: Monika Fludernik, Introduction to Narratology, p.28

References

Fludernik, M. (2009) An Introduction to narratology. Translated by P. Häusler-Greenfield and M. Fludernik. London, UK: Routledge.