Paul B. Preciado, Countersexual Manifesto, 2000.
During the last days, I spent quite a lot of energy preparing plates for etching. I am working to prepare a work on paper that will be also a tactile experience, the preparation involves different metals, sanding, and polishing. I am learning how to approach the different surfaces, their acoustic responses, and tensions.
Is it possible to separate our thinking of sound from the ear? If the ear is not experiencing all of the sonic spectra how can be understood that the human body and the cyborg body can be resonators, captivating vibrations that communicate sounds through a distributed nervous system? I am looking at the digital devices that we are using in our daily life and all of those have a “silent mode” turning sounds into haptic responses. Little bells grayed out logo or crossed out speakers. Still, those feel loud, vibrating, calling for our attention.
Understanding the sound beyond the ear made me think of disappearance at first. Then I started to reposition my ears on the other parts of my body where I am experiencing sound. Exposing ears all over our skin to remind each other that is not only the tympanic membrane that understands sonic space. Ears all over the body, it is a cyborg’s proposal.
I am quite unhappy with the first sketches but I wanted to be transparent with the process, I am going to work with different outlines.
This is a proposal for a podcast series conceived as a meeting point for non-hearing and hearing communities. It can be seen as an attempt to open space to communities that have been excluded since the early development of radiophonic transmission and long-distance voice-based communications. While writing these notes, I cannot stop ruminating about the historical intertwining between the invention of voice-based long-distance communications and the efforts that some of its pioneers dedicated to affirming education models today described as oralism and their eugenics roots. Another stream destabilizes my thinking, its banks I try to summarise as an understanding of progress impossible to tear apart from a general cult of profit and its pervasive spread controlling mass media. I have memories of radio broadcasting being dismissed in my childhood as a historical heritage in favor of television. Now that the internet has created a favorable momentum for digital radio, I must admit that the absence of advertisements relieves me. Nevertheless, my comfort is often unaware of hidden profiling techniques, whose consequences we experience beyond marketing purposes in unprecedented political persuasion.
Is it possible to imagine a podcast, a digital radio, as a welcoming place to share and an enjoyable zone where the agency of the community is perceived outside the systematic targeting of consumers? And how should this place be? I must write that I am feeling many biases while formulating a proposal from my subjective position to imagine a collating space for communities that have been systematically separated during the consolidation of liberalism’s political imaginaries. I can only find myself on an experiential threshold between hearing and non-hearing communities, with an unbalance toward the hearing group having received only an oral education. Somehow I hope this idea will be seeded by collaborative thinking, crumbling this early individuality exercise and taking it to a format that feels more representative of both communities involved.
Please allow me to approach world-building in radiophonic space as an embodied methodology, for the now, starting from the user’s access needs. A radio station conventionally offers a stereo channel audible mix, and the mixer is in the hand of the producer. I am suggesting offering part of it to the folks that will tune in; this digital radio can be a six channels stream with:
1 – music stream;
2 – metadata stream, with lyrics, info on the tracks, and descriptive captioning;
3 – oral-based broadcast;
4 – oral full transcript and captions;
5 – sign language based streaming;
6 – sign language full transcript/captions.
I see the imbalance in my proposal where four channels are reserved for creating access-centering oral and hearing-controlled discourse; as anticipated, I am preparing to rework this in the context of a collaborative thinking exercise, inviting d/Deaf broadcasters to articulate this idea better. I can imagine a parallel sign-language-based channel for streaming poetry and storytelling and experimental artistic expression, but I am not taking authority to define a sign-language space; I only feel how much this is needed, along with captions and transcripts to make these contents accessible to the non-signing audience.
Until now, this proposal encompasses a technical format because it aims to dismantle the ableist power of a technologically exclusive medium. I feel this operation is valuable only in the context of curating practices that aim to address ableist circuits of power. I suggest looking at the “working definition of ableism” published and updated on Talila A. Lewis’ blog and “developed in community with disabled Black/negatively racialized folk.” TL helps us see ableism beyond the disabled community, within a proper intersectional approach that is a much-needed filter to explore solidarity around the curatorial thinking of contents to share in this broadcast. As mentioned at the beginning of this proposal, this radiophonic space can exist only if a collaborative thinking exercise happens. I hope this exercise will produce a curatorial kinship in preparing each chapter that does not repeat the usual and unnecessary institutional pledge of creating access to interpreting unidirectionally created content. This is extremely important to me, and I hope it resonates with the title of this proposal. “Mixed feelings” is also underling the necessity of a choral practice where dissonance must be welcome, operating an attunement that does not seek homologations nor blanket agreements.
I hope I will soon have the chance to tune in to a music stream while reading captions from a signing artist, exploring thresholds that aim to bring solidarity across existing cultural barriers.
I’ve always been inspired by the artist Frida Kahlo, how she painted directly how she felt on to the canvas without regard for depicting reality just the reality of how she felt. I used to shy away from creating any artwork that was too personal or about myself, feeling as if it would be uninteresting and somehow felt self centred. Frida known for her many self portraits and artworks that almost document the timeline of her life. Simply said that “I paint myself because I am so often alone and because I am the subject I know best.” this changed my perspective and I started to feel any subject I tried to explore in my artwork that wasn’t personal to me felt unbalanced in a way as my own opinion was the only one being heard in the artwork. It was just another opinion on a subject I had no real connection to. Whereas when I created something really personal, the process was therapeutic, the end result was honest, not offering an answer and hopefully connecting to the viewer on a base human level.
The second image above is the painting titled “The Two Frida’s”. She often explored her feeling like she was straddling between two identities. The Mexican side of her mother and the European side of her father. I found this very inspiring and relatable in my project as I was exploring a lot of similar themes about being two halves of separate things. And I cant think of another artist that explores this so directly and consistently.
While working on this project I’ve been reading this incredibly inspiring book on ancient Japanese manga dating back to the 17th century. In the book it’s said that manga imagery was mostly categorized into “satirizing manners, customs & situations. Satirizing society and politics and satirizing human nature.
It amazed me that this use of humour mixed with surreal imagery dated so far back and clearly had such a impact on how manga, cartoons and animation would develop even 100s of years later in the animation that would inspire me growing up. It also got me thinking about this connection that humour seemed to have with surrealism. Both rely on setting up an expectation of something ordinary, then divert it entirely in a way you never expected. The way the manga illustrations could go from bizarre and comical to exploring the inner demons of the human psyche is something I always loved. As I feel humour keeps both the artist and viewer grounded and level with each other, allowing it to feel more human and relatable when the artwork shifts into the heavier subjects. It’s inspiring to know something that didn’t always take itself so seriously was still respected as a art from. The artwork in the book seems to be pushing the boundaries of the artists imaginations as if they were testing to see if there was any limit to how creative they could be.
“home is where they survive.
home is not a place and I can’t call it by a border.
Home is a language I forgot and faces I haven’t heard in a long time.
Home is a child”
– anonymous / Oct 2021 / Citizens of Nowhere exhibition – NOW gallery.
I’m in Folkstone this weekend as part of New Queers On the Block and Last Friday’s Folkstone. I’m presenting an ongoing project called HOMECOMING which I started in 2019 the year before lockdown, and have been continuing throughout. The project is based on a simple question
What does home mean to you?
And anyone, from the general public, young or old, are invited to contribute using UV pens (invisible ink) in any language they want, drawing or writing straight onto the blacked out walls of buildings. This iteration see’s the work being presented at DNA in Folkstone and has in the space both this participator installation and one of my digital iterations (short film) made of the project ‘Homecoming; A Placeless Place‘ on loop. The film was made during the global lockdown and with the general public in Scarborough, UK.
Here’s a little video of the set up of the installation:
On Sunday evening we will do a ‘reveal’ event where UV torches and lights will be offered to participants for us to collectively find out what’s been offered by the public, on these walls.
Really looking forward to Sunday.
DNA space / Folkstone / 6.15pm / Chats, Chai, Film Screening and Baklawa will be shared.
The project is on going and I hope it continues to get to different parts of the UK with ambitions to take the project internationally. We all have a relationship with the idea of Home and for me, this is a conversation I find endlessly fascinating. I want to make more films around this and hopefully, in years to come, put all contributions from so many different towns, cities , countries and spaces, and publish a book about it.
Sometimes, people can be so vulnerable. If you offer them the space to be…
I was travelling through the Balkans during June and came across a lot of interesting references to relationships with tech, modernisation, and exploitation. Below are some examples, taken at the Museum of Yugoslavia in Belgrade.
Occasion of Rift
Banner, 2022
The deepening conflict between ideas and material conditions is an opportunity for different conceptions of society. An active role in managing and mediating between material conditions and the notion of a better life, requires responsibility beyond the faith in artificial intelligence. Hard physical labour, such as mining, has been exiled to the periphery, and there seems to be no need to use technologically and socially advanced tools. Labour is visibly removed from those places where people receive a universal basic income.References:
Mining helmet with safety lamp and
battery for power, gloves and boots
Equipment used at the Mining and
Energy Plant “Edvard Kardelj” in
Trbovlje, 1981
The Miner
Sketch for a monument erected in front
of the International Labour Organization
in Geneva, 1939
Antun Augustincié
Gift of the People’s Front of the VI
District of the City of Zagreb to Josip Broz
Tito, May 11, 1946
This was in the early ‘digital days’. I was outside the frame of this image but I was too young to remember what was going on in the moment. It wasn’t her final day (or year), but we all knew the process had begun its course. Although I don’t remember, internally I feel relieved I could be there and that I still have a connection to these moments captured. It’s agonising to rewatch these videos and feel the emotional atmosphere through a lens but then this happy accident happens in the video where one of my cousins covers the frame for the rest of the video completely unaware. I appreciate the sudden invisibility, not just because of the relief, but it’s in that moment I’m reminded that my grief for her is physically embodied and no longer attached to the visual medium or its definitive capture of her.
Carmen Hermosillo aka humdog was a huge advocate for technological innovation and computer networks in the 80s/90s, until 1994, when she published ‘Pandora’s Vox: On Community in Cyberspace.’
Her writing remains relevant to this day when examining the digitisation of our deaths and identity ‘immortalisation’ online. She argued that the use of computer networks do not lead to a reduction in hierarchy, but actually the commodification of personality and a complex transfer of power and information to corporations.
In this sense, all of our interior thoughts (taste, preferences, beliefs, fears) are commodified, and has manifested into what we know today to be the algorithm that caters to our likes and interests. And so, when it comes to our digital death and footprints we leave online, it essentially becomes packaged and sold onto other consumer entities as a form of ‘entertainment’. What I mean by entertainment is that the cyberspace is a blackhole – it absorbs our energy and personality to create an emotional spectacle. This is practiced by businesses and marketers who commodify human interactions and emotions, such as Big Tech corps we already know and exist on.
Taking this image of someone’s FB newsfeed as an example which I think is an interface we are all very familiar with, there is a bizarre quality to our online interaction on this platform. In early 2022, I was invited to an online memorial service of a dear friend which was also livestreamed on Facebook. What I found a little bizarre is that this is the same platform where I read daily news headlines, see meme posts, cat videos, friend’s holiday photos, and relationship updates.
Similarly, this is relays back to humdog’s essay about ourselves becoming commodified and release of agency. I have never learned to mourn or remember someone via an entertainment platform, yet this is becoming the norm.
Spiritual or sacred spaces of worship such as churches, mosques, synagogues, temples, graveyards, contain a certain element of solely fixating on the cycle of life and death with symbolic elements such as praying, worship, repentance, burning of incense, hearing cymbals and gongs, chants, and much more. What’s important about these practices is not the act itself but how it is choreographed with a community.
With these daily practices slowly fading since we have digital platforms to accommodate memorial services and distant attendance, it leads one to wonder whether these traditions will maintain its grip in the next 10, 20, or 30 years, or will it have merged into the chaotic mix of entertainment consumption where we exist under the illusion of a ‘community’ online.
I’m curious.
This is a short ongoing anthology that helped me understand my cyborg’s nature. There are many texts where I found guidance, and in some cases I left them behind because my identity and subjective awareness feels everything but static, given values. I like to begin with “The Cyborg Manifesto,” first published in 1985, the year I was born. I will slowly add here more recent wordings that suggested me new understandings and shaped my thinking.
The image’s alt-text, is an excerpt form Lynn Randolph’s “Modest Witnesses: A Painter’s Collaboration with Donna Haraway” in which the authors describe the composition of this painting and unpack its iconography. It feels great to find an artist creating another way to access their work, beyond vision.
Link to a digital copy of the essay, available on Internet Archive.
I travel allot for work.
In the last week alone I’ve been in Venice, London, Bradford and Sheffield.
Often my ideas don’t just come from working in my studio, but from exploring outside and beyond binding walls.
I was at a talk on Saturday, at the Bradford Literary Festival, with some phenomenal women writers.
The topic was Bell Hooks and her book; all about love and the impacts it has had on so many, us included.
There was a speaker there, Mona Eltahawy who reminded us to write with courage.
To exist in it.
I was reminded of a poster made for the streets of Italy. Why Italy? Why not Italy?!
This poster sits in my studio and in my home.
It is an image I use in workshops to instigate discussions. Discussions which are always fascinating to hear.
I think it’s so beautiful. And I think it’s something that everyone needs to see. You’re welcome.
The artist @doublewhy_y (instagram)
‘The California Ideology’ is an essay by media theorists Barbrook and Cameron written in 1995. They argued that the techno-utopic ideals propagated from Silicon Valley enthusiasts such as innovation, connectivity, and so on, was paradoxically driven by a radical sense of individualism, counterculture, and neoliberalism. These tech pioneers believed that wider and instant distribution of knowledge would liberate everyone from political grasps. However, today we realise that hypothesis is not the case.
Watching the two videos of Zuckerberg and Musk, what I find eerie is how they market their commodification of us, the users, as something virtuous and a necessary feat for human ‘advancement’. Musk’s argument for archiving human consciousness on Mars, in case of global humanitarian disaster, is essentially an eloquent phrase for continuing modern human colonisation. At what cost does this come at? It’s not only about personal privacy, but the cost for ‘greatness’ comes at the price of Earth’s resources, degradation of communities and infrastructures, and succumbing to our computer-generated identities, therefore eroding our socio-cultural structures of our material reality. So once the dreams of techno-utopists such as Musk and Zuckerberg are achieved, what is actually left for the community when we are not behind the computer’s gaze. I feel this rhetoric and ideology is highly contradicting and is more trapping than ‘liberating’. I’d go as far to argue that this equation of online = connected communities is a fallacy…
Transcript: Video #1
Interviewer: So on that kind of launch rate, you’re talking about it over two decades you could get your million people to Mars essentially. Who’s city is it? Is it NASA’s city, is it SpaceX’s city?
Musk: It’s the people of Mars’ city The reason for this I mean, obviously like why do this thing, I think this is important for maximizing the probable lifespan of humanity or consciousness. Human civilization could come to an end, for external reasons like a giant meteor or super volcanoes or extreme climate change or world war three, or you know, any number of reasons. The probable lifespan of human civilizational consciousness as we know it, which we should really view as this very delicate thing, is like a small candle in a vast darkness. That’s what appears to be the case.
Transcript: Video #2
As I look around and as I travel around the world. I’m starting to see people and nations turning inward against this idea of a connected world and global community. I hear fearful voices calling for building walls and distancing people they label as others. For blocking free expression, for slowing immigration, reducing trade, and in some cases around the world even cutting access to the internet. It takes courage to choose hope over fear. To say we can build something and make it better than it has ever been before. You have to be optimistic to think that you can change the world. And people will always call you naïve but it’s this hope and this optimism, that is behind every important step forward. Our lives are connected and whether we are welcoming a refugee fleeing war, or an immigrant seeking new opportunity, whether we are coming together to fight global disease like Ebola, order to address climate change, I hope that we have the courage to see the path forward is to bring people together, not push people apart. To connect more, not less. We are one global community.
If I told you that my name should be spelt Istabraq but that at the borders of this country, those deciding the status of my family using a language which struggles to identify it, didn’t have patience enough to actually say.my.name…
Would you believe me?
Estabrak. It’s official. I mean, English tongues can say it.
Iss-tub-bruq is how it’s pronounced. And A rough silk only found in heaven is it’s meaning.
Because I haven’t been posting anything on my socials since late 2020, not many people know I have been exploring the medium of glass for some time now..
Pomegranates have been one of the subjects of exploration as they are a fruit which I believe deeply resonates with the politics of the region in which we (myself and the pomegranate) are both from – West Asia.
Although beautiful and with so much potential, they have also been deeply intertwined with colonial politics and their once poetically dominant meanings in herstory, value, nutrition, mythology and ancient tales of fertility have been hijacked by misplaced ideas of warfare and destruction.
“What is less apparent is the fruit’s relation to modern warfare. Stemming from the 12th century Anglo-Norman pome gernate, our English pomegranate became pume grenate in Old French. This pume grenate eventually became pomme grenade in Modern French. Pomme grenade, of course, looks exactly like grenade or hand grenade, and this is no coincidence.” -ALTA
This short post online, written some time ago now, offers a clear and straight forward definition of the complexities of this fruit.
“So why name the weapon after the fruit? If you were to crack open a hand grenade today you would see tiny balls of shrapnel inside the explosive’s casing. The shrapnel mimics the pomegranate’s seeds—each seed the potential for a new tree, each shrapnel the potential for a hit body. Shaped like a pomegranate and designed like a pomegranate, it’s certainly ironic that a weapon used to kill several people at once is named after the ancient fruit of fertility.’
It makes sense why so many Asian & African artists have used the symbol of a pomegranate to respond to white peoples wars in our homelands and countries. This language and extraction imposed upon an indigenous fruit of West Asian land is just another example of the consistent existence we must live that straddles the line of life and death, danger and beauty, the possible (fertility=future) and impossible (war=erasure).
There is so much to say about this subject.
To bring it back to the work in progress I have shared above, to me the back side of this glass pomegranate looks like the insides of a human body. Almost like lungs attached to a skeleton, I am in awe by the simplicity and clarity light can offer. Light is such a fascinating natural element.
I’m not quite sure what will come of this work I am exploring, but I know I’m working towards a language within my glass work which translates so effortlessly with my works in water and interest in the often complex and sometimes ephemeral experiences of the human condition.