At the CREW gathering last week on November 22, I started to see a need for us to experiment with developing a form of statement – a kind of abstract perhaps, maybe an essay, possibly a manifesto, an annotated diagram, a film or an animation – that articulates the ethics of one's research imperative. During our conversations I was trying to find a 'new word' to describe what I meant by this, and at the time I think I said 'the ethical urge'. In order to think about this further, I went back to a short essay that I wrote about ethics called 'The Ethics of the Imperative'...
The CREW sprung from this call:
May 22. 2015. all day. Pavilion 4, The Design Hub. Proposed date (tbc) for gathering to practice research presentations and getting feedback from each other. Those not in Melbourne may wish to skype in. This will also be a time to strategise regarding a proposed ‘interview......
Looking through my images from the ‘Discovery Centre’ at Hanging Rock, I am reminded that the Rock, as an extinct volcano, is described as a ‘mamelon’ – the french word for nipple, as the discovery panel image below informs us. This nipple initially oozed up......
It’s not the house
that threatens to fall. But
the betweenness of its moving.
Walls of white water
one after another
after an other
drive bodies in and out
of the kitchen.
Suck formless frames
of flesh and bone
that I now realise
you didn’t want me to mention
See how easily they slide beneath the oily skins
of the free-range chickens
that nobody eats
Too many cooks in the kitchen
yet not enough to notice
that you take out of the oven
Their lukewarm skin pulsing
absorbing the rhythms that we misunderstand mistrust mis-align
because we don’t see
choose not to see
the weight of all this water.
“…had I been alone for longer than a year I might have become a rather strange person, for inanimate objects began to develop their own identities: I found myself saying “Good morning” to my little hut on the Peak, “Hello” to the stream where I collected my water. And I became immensely aware of trees, just to feel the roughness of a knurled truck or the cold smoothness of yong bark with my hand filled me with strange knowledge of the roots under the ground and the pulsing sap within.”
In the Shadow of Man, Jane van Lawick-Goodall, New York: Delta, p. 50.
As I started to discuss in 'The Jane Approach', I recently finished reading Jane van Lawick-Goodall’s book, In the Shadow of Man,published in 1971. The passage above really struck me. I particularly loved that her little hut become a creature that she would say “hello” too. Her apparent solitude started to reveal that she was not alone, but surrounded by the presence of many types of others. Here she connects with Jane Bennett’s Vibrant Matter, as a sort of vibrancy emerges in the world, infusing her perception of the life of things.
The book starts with her very first forays into chimpanzee research and the process of gradually garnering enough trust from the chimpanzees to observe their activity. It is a beautiful and simple tale about a research project that goes through many ebbs and flows, obstructions and breakthroughs, surviving quite radical changes along the way as the project itself affects the conditions it sought to observe. In that sense, it is an instructive story about research projects in general – and how to navigate the changes they inevitably (and necessarily) go through.
It’s 47 years since Joan Lindsay’s book, Picnic at Hanging Rock, was published. In a note from the author, Lindsay prefaces the story with: “Whether picnic at Hanging Rock is fact or fiction, my readers must decide for themselves.” Apparently, according to this text, she.....
A paper by Pia Ednie-Brown on the Building Movements project was published as part of the Architectural Design Research Symposium proceedings for a symposium that occurred on 20-21 November 2014, held at the Venice Biennale.