What gives rise to a canon, or makes something iconic? How are those processes similar, and different?
Mischa Twitchin’s essay films engage with philosophical ideas through a carefully calibrated and playful combination of sound, pace, image, duration and text.
This essay-film performs the paradoxical simultaneities it addresses. As film-philosophy, its meaning depends on being watched several times. Or as Twitchin puts it, ‘we have to practice Brechtian watching of the other watchers’.
What happens in performance, above all to the characters, when an actor transforms them from their fictional existence on the page to their physical enactment on the stage?
What’s in a prefix? How to read a prefix as short as ‘re-’? Does ‘re-’ really signify? Can it point into a specific direction? Can it reverse? Can it become the shibboleth of a ‘postcritical’ reboot? At first glance transparent and directional, ‘re-’ complicates the linear and teleological models commonly accepted as structuring the relations between past, present, and future, opening onto errant temporalities.
Asked by an academic friend to name one book I would save if the world were to collapse in an apocalyptic climate change scenario, I thought: ‘it’s too hard’, but then started going though my mental library. ‘You wouldn’t want to save an academic book, would you,’ said my friend, ‘surely a novel, an artist’s book…’. But in those few seconds I had already settled in my head for Salvatore Settis’ The Future of the ‘Classical’ (Polity, 2006, translated by Allan Cameron). Why?