Message-ID: <Pine.NEB.4.64.0801131518060.26765@panix3.panix.com>
From: Alan Sondheim <sondheim@panix.com>
To: Cyb <cybermind@listserv.aol.com>, Wryting-L <WRYTING-L@listserv.wvu.edu>
Subject: Railroad Club
Date: Sun, 13 Jan 2008 15:18:19 -0500 (EST)
Railroad Club Images from open house, Morgantown model railroad club, embodying cuts from one scale to another, from human to true world, from mind to emanent. Who would call this the postmodern? One might locate something else here: not the cut but the suture, not disparity but deep memory; the locales represented, real and imaginary, conjure the West Virginia landscape of the 1950s, in the memory of many of the club members. What better than a photograph than a reconstruction in which everything is punctum, intended? The photographs are of the text, of this text; they're weaker without it, they go elsewhere, I'm pulling them back in. I'm pulling them back in to indicate multiculturalisms and emphases on locale and habitus tend both suture and division (these people, these others) in favor of _listening_ and its phenomenology. But listening is skew-orthogonal, again, to the _style_ of the images, based on any number of photographers and trajectories. Now what do I see when I do not know what I see? Certainly aspects and entities are present within the true world filtered through the history of photography and photographers who have no responsibility for me. Where are the passengers in this life? Where are the passengers in the life of the other? You can already feel the economy of the land, extractive industries, pov- erty, environmental pollution, mountain-topping, strip-mining, deep-min- ing, feed stores, small towns in the hollows, grey dust, what's worn is worn, what's not is brought into play through deep memory's suture which even bends, transfigures the landscape, someday we'll all rise to the surface. I will live forever I will live forever I will live forever As a hungry ghost As a hungry ghost I will live forever I don't remember the exact name of the railroad club or the members. Some- one named Mike, I believe, made the larger mine model. I came in as a tourist finding nameless things. the models were both outstanding, depres- sing to an outsider. The images appeared as images, imaginary, with what- ever context I might bring from the outside; the social depth was absent. I turned to the jump-cut. The jump-cut was of the visual, that disparity of mind and scale. Railroad switching systems were fundamental to the development of the Internet. Evidence of electronic skein was everywhere. Jump-cut sutured into dream- scape, dream-screen, displacement/condensation semiotics. What is of truth or tending towards the indexical in the images applies as well to the vis- ual in general, compounding of memory, suture, cut, surface. Whatever one sees is surface, surface-only; x-rays report on deeper surfaces, translucent or transparent to invisible light. The photographs bother me, as if theory needed image-propping beyond the diagrammatic. But what can the image hold, if not an arrangement that might be constituted as evidence? If a diagram is indexical or symbolic, the photograph resides elsewhere; evidence stands for nothing and hardly represents itself, nor is it pointing towards something across ontological or epistemological lines. On this level the photograph simply reports as Bazin might have it, on what-is, or rather the what-is and thetic con- strues within the dialog of image production. In any case, the postmodern is left behind, or rather, is relegated to analyses of socio-economic phenomena where the theory works wonders; think of postmodern geography, Harvey or Roja for example. What would postmodern geography make of mountain-topping? And then its representation which makes the wrecked landscape somehow graspable, something to walk around, replant with meadow or pasture? I think of tantra, mandala, Jefferey Hopkins' introduction to the Kala- chakra Tantra (Kalachakra Tantra, Rite of Initiation, Dali Lama, 1999). Hopkins walks/writes the body of the reader through the mandala ("Notice the entryway at the eastern door, wider than the doorway, with a three storied portico above the entranceway. Each of the stories of the portico above the entryway has four pillars across the front, thereby creating three room-like alcoves on each story. In each of these eight alcoves are goddesses of offering; the middle alcove in the first story on the eastern side has a black wheel of doctrine with a buck and doe to the right and left." And so forth.) Now think of the Morgantown railroad club images in the same or different shimmer, think not of the imminent/immanent identi- fication of entities within them, but of paths through or around or by virtue of these entities, which themselves are processes (one doesn't live forever, the tracks are constantly changing). Is there a meditation here, emission or spew that is sourceless except for (in spite of) the corners or frame of the image? Can one imagine a habitus, inhabitation? Is there a seeing that moves through memory near and far without the supplication of the signifier? This is what literally remains to be seen, and brings the essay to its clothes. http://www.alansondheim.org/rail01.jpg http://www.alansondheim.org/rail02.jpg http://www.alansondheim.org/rail03.jpg http://www.alansondheim.org/rail04.jpg http://www.alansondheim.org/rail05.jpg http://www.alansondheim.org/rail06.jpg http://www.alansondheim.org/rail07.jpg http://www.alansondheim.org/rail08.jpg http://www.alansondheim.org/rail09.jpg http://www.alansondheim.org/rail10.jpg http://www.alansondheim.org/rail11.jpg http://www.alansondheim.org/rail12.jpg http://www.alansondheim.org/rail13.jpg http://www.alansondheim.org/rail14.jpg http://www.alansondheim.org/rail15.jpg http://www.alansondheim.org/rail16.jpg http://www.alansondheim.org/rail17.jpg http://www.alansondheim.org/rail18.jpg http://www.alansondheim.org/rail19.jpg http://www.alansondheim.org/rail10.jpg http://www.alansondheim.org/rail21.jpg http://www.alansondheim.org/rail22.jpg http://www.alansondheim.org/rail23.jpg http://www.alansondheim.org/rail24.jpg http://www.alansondheim.org/rail25.jpg http://www.alansondheim.org/rail26.jpg http://www.alansondheim.org/rail27.jpg http://www.alansondheim.org/rail28.jpg