Mapping memories of an invisible town: imagination, empathy, and temporality in a community-engaged storymap of clementsport, NS

Beyond the built space of a hospital, many forms of care often go unseen, unnoticed, and undervalued. This reimagining of care, through the exploration of its different forms beyond health institutions, aims to expand on the definition put forth by Joan Tronto, which defined care broadly through the agencies of bodies, the self, and built and natural environments. This paper advocates for an understanding of care beyond the hospital and the clinic through the lived experiences of Pre-Health UC Berkeley Filipinos and Filipino-Americans in built and imagined spaces. Built spaces are the spaces (i.e the hospital, clinic, medical mission site, and community health center) that are (1) designed by architects, (2) physically built, and (3) lived in. Imagined spaces (linguistic, cultural, memory, in-between, and home) are spaces that are unseen and unbuilt but are fundamentally produced and reproduced in, along with shaping the social relations within built spaces. The main findings suggest that architectural, built spaces of the hospital, community health center, homeland, and cultural center must not only render the unseen forms of care visible. Participants noted that the in-betweenness they experienced played a salient role in their immigrant experience and caring practices as they navigated built and imagined spaces. Through their lived experiences navigating both built and imagined spaces, this study aims to contribute towards forms of care that validate these multi-layered and multi-sited imagined spaces as valued spaces for underrepresented communities to feel seen, represented, and cared for within the “white spatial imaginary” (Lipsitz 2007, 13).

The Palaeogene Skaergaard intrusion, East Greenland, has since its first description by Wager & Deer (1939) been a foremost natural laboratory for the study of low-pressure fractionation of basaltic melt. Ocean floors are composed of basalt and the processes that control compositions of basaltic melts are fundamental to the dynamics of the Earth. This special issue of GEUS Bulletin by Peter Thy, Christian Tegner and Charles E. Lesher is the most recent in a more than eighty year succession of trendsetting works on the evolution of the Skaergaard intrusion and evolution of basaltic melt. The early sample collections, housed in the universities of Oxford and Cambridge, were used for the development of fractionation models, mapping of the distribution as well as the partition of major and trace elements between melts and liquidus phases in basaltic melts. These and many other studies resulted in the monumental “Layered Igneous Rocks”, edited by L.R. Wager and G.M. Brown (Wager & Brown 1968). By the 1970s, the original collection in the Oxford University Museum of Natural History and the Sedgwick Museum of Earth Sciences, University of Cambridge had seen extensive use. The science developed and new and more detailed sampling was now required. Fieldwork and sampling in the later part of the 20th century led to a flurry of new studies by more research groups, including Neil Irvine of Carnegie’s Geophysical Laboratory and the University of Oregon group lead by Alex McBirney. Despite all the efforts, no consensus was reached on the many fundamental chemical and physical processes in basaltic magma chambers. The available collections did not provide sufficiently systematic and detailed information for the modelling of the evolution of the basaltic melt and the genesis of the precious metal deposit that had been discovered in the intrusion. Exploration drill cores offered the possibility for tight stratigraphic sampling through >1000 m of gabbro. In combination with surface sampling, a new standard profile with superior systematics could be established. In the summer of 2000, the Danish Lithosphere Centre (DLC) organised fieldwork and the transport of the drill cores to the Museum of Natural History in Copenhagen. This special issue is part of the legacy of the DLC and a fulfilment of the then envisaged potential of the Skaergaard intrusion for fundamental studies of processes in basaltic magma chambers. Thy et al. (2023, this volume) analyse and compile in unprecedented detail the variation in major and trace element compositions of bulk-rock samples and electron microprobe compositions of rock-forming minerals in the Layered Series on the floor of the intrusion. In addition, they include a wealth of information on all samples from the Skaergaard intrusion that are housed in museum, university and survey collections in Denmark, the UK and US, topographic and geological maps, aerial photographs in archives and images of thin sections used in the study. With all its data and appendices, the monograph is the most comprehensive collection of petrological information for the Skaergaard intrusion and the Layered Series on the floor of the intrusion, ever to have been made available for research. The detailed modelling presented re-evaluates petrogenetic constraints and tests petrogenetic models in the literature. The modelling is based on liquidus proportions established in experimental studies of appropriate melt compositions. Thy and co-authors conclude that evolution observed in the gabbros of the Layered Series is predominantly controlled by crystal fractionation of bulk liquid. Late in the evolution and above the boundary between Upper Zone a and b, the gabbros crystallised from ponded Fe-rich, immiscible melt. Redistribution of granophyric melts and decoupling of included and excluded trace elements, not only in bulk liquid but also in mush melts, complicates the modelling of trace element distributions in the late and evolved stages of crystallisation in the crystal mushes of the intrusion. This special issue is a treasure trove for all who study the intrusion and are searching for a data set to be matched with experimental and numeric modelling of low-pressure fractionation of basaltic melt. With this contribution, the Skaergaard intrusion continues to be a foremost natural laboratory for modelling of melts formed in solidifying basaltic magma chambers. Troels F.D. NielsenEmeritus, GEUS, Denmark

Abstract. Aerial photography has been acquired regularly for topographic mapping since the decade of 1930. In Portugal there are several archives of aerial photos in national mapping institutes, as well as in local authorities, containing a total of nearly one hundred thousand photographs, mainly from the 1940s, 1950s and some from 1930s. These data sets provide important information about the evolution of the territory, for environment and agricultural studies, land planning, and many other examples. There is an interest in making these aerial coverages available in the form of orthorectified mosaics for integration in a GIS. The orthorectification of old photographs may pose several difficulties. Required data about the camera and lens system used, such as the focal distance, fiducial marks coordinates or distortion parameters may not be available, making it difficult to process these data in conventional photogrammetric software. This paper describes an essentially automatic methodology for orientation, orthorectification and mosaic composition of blocks of old aerial photographs, using Agisoft Photoscan structure from motion software. The operation sequence is similar to the processing of UAV imagery. The method was applied to photographs from 1947 and 1958, provided by the Portuguese Army Geographic Institute. The orientation was done with GCPs collected from recent orthophototos and topographic maps. This may be a difficult task, especially in urban areas that went through many changes. Residuals were in general below 1 meter. The agreement of the orthomosaics with recent orthophotos and GIS vector data was in general very good. The process is relatively fast and automatic, and can be considered in the processing of full coverages of old aerial photographs.

Aerial photography has been acquired regularly for topographic mapping since the decade of 1930. In Portugal there are several archives of aerial photos in national mapping institutes, as well as in local authorities, containing a total of nearly one hundred thousand photographs, mainly from the 1940s, 1950s and some from 1930s. These data sets provide important information about the evolution of the territory, for environment and agricultural studies, land planning, and many other examples. There is an interest in making these aerial coverages available in the form of orthorectified mosaics for integration in a GIS. <br><br> The orthorectification of old photographs may pose several difficulties. Required data about the camera and lens system used, such as the focal distance, fiducial marks coordinates or distortion parameters may not be available, making it difficult to process these data in conventional photogrammetric software. <br><br> This paper describes an essentially automatic methodology for orientation, orthorectification and mosaic composition of blocks of old aerial photographs, using Agisoft Photoscan structure from motion software. The operation sequence is similar to the processing of UAV imagery. The method was applied to photographs from 1947 and 1958, provided by the Portuguese Army Geographic Institute. The orientation was done with GCPs collected from recent orthophototos and topographic maps. This may be a difficult task, especially in urban areas that went through many changes. Residuals were in general below 1 meter. The agreement of the orthomosaics with recent orthophotos and GIS vector data was in general very good. The process is relatively fast and automatic, and can be considered in the processing of full coverages of old aerial photographs.

Standing on a pile of rubble with his back to the viewer, Xolani Ngilima is fixed on the cover of this recently published collection of essays in the act of pasting an enlarged photograph, originally taken by his great-grandfather, Ronald Ngilima, onto a brick wall in Actonville (Benoni, Gauteng), South Africa. Taken by one of this compilation's twelve remarkable contributors, Sophie Feyder's documentation of the 2011 informal street exhibition “Searching for the Old Location” visually introduces the reader to several of the questions the authors of this volume engage. How does the publication of African photographers’ previously private collections aid in or complicate the production of local histories? How do curators and scholars navigate the tensions that exist between the complex historical pasts photographs depict and their visual and material affects? What roles do oral histories play in the formation and interpretation of photographic archives that are located both on and off the continent and, extending from this, how do digitization efforts and new online platforms challenge our understanding of African photography as a categorical construct?Edited by Christopher Morton and Darren Newbury, The African Photographic Archive: Research and Curatorial Strategies comprises an introduction and eleven significant case studies by authors who deftly explore the methodological challenges confronted by those researching the continent's photographic histories and sincerely interrogate the abounding practical, theoretical, and ethical matters of the archive. The well-illustrated book is separated into four parts along thematic, rather than chronological or geographical lines. While the first section, “Connected Histories,” returns to the institutionalized collections of expeditions and colonial-era missions (Morton, Rippe), the book's second section, “Ethnographies,” comprises studies that consider the potentially more precarious archives held and displayed in individual homes (Zeitlyn, Behrend, Vokes). “Political Framings,” the book's third section, offers four case studies stemming from the South African context. Containing some of the compilation's most self-reflective essays, the authors in this section honestly explore the challenges of relocating previously neglected photographic collections in the present (Feyder, Newbury, Hayes) and complicate our understanding of once-oppressive images as they are artistically repurposed (Peffer). Further opening up discussions of the reinvention and relocation of photographic archives is the book's fourth and final section, “Archival Propositions.” Featuring a photo essay (Stultiens) and a forceful contribution by Erin Haney and Jennifer Bajorek, this concluding portion of the book rigorously interrogates the roles Western institutions have played thus far in enclaving photographic collections while simultaneously forefronting the generative potentials of artistic and cross-regional archival collaborations.In his contribution to the first part of the book, Christopher Morton offers detailed object biographies of two sets of Richard Buchta's (1845–1894) mounted albumen prints made during the Austrian photographer's early travels through Equatoria. Looking to the reproductions of Buchta's images in nineteenth century European literature, Morton addresses how Buchta's photographs shaped the visual representation of Central Africa throughout the nineteenth century and argues that they continue to do so today as dematerialized images online. Heike Behrend also looks to the ways in which images have been translated across mediums in her consideration of the shifting role photographs have played in funerary rites in central Kenya. In her discussion of how photographs from family archives have been edited and repurposed for printed funeral programs, Behrend links the resulting photographic biographies to the “progressive structure” of generation-sets and the growth of the genre of biography in the region (pp. 81–33). In his contribution to the book's third section, John Peffer similarly engages the home-as-archive and considers the ways in which images have been creatively modified for other uses. Looking to the repurposing of passbook photos into enlarged, airbrushed, and hand-painted wedding portraits, Peffer intriguingly shows how images originally produced for an oppressive archive have been reclaimed by their subjects and actively shifted into a new image repertoire.In their consideration of photography's technology, a number of the book's authors address the medium's simultaneous production of both subjects and objects, offering insightful reflections on the images that were created by various photographic processes as well as the conditions and networks within which photographs act.1 In “The Missionary, the Diviner, and the Chief: Distributed Personhood and the Photographic Archive of the Mariannhill Mission,” Christoph Rippe deftly draws on Gell's concept in his discussion of three photographs that were created by Br. Aegidius Müller while working for the Catholic Mission in colonial Natal. A wonderful writer, Rippe intertwines the stories of Abbot Franz Pfanner, Ugitschigitschi, and Chief Lokothwayo in his discussion of the role their likenesses played in both producing eminence and compounding power. Considering a collection of photographs commissioned and held by Mr. Grace Bwire, a senior political official in southwestern Uganda, Richard Vokes also examines photography's and the archive's role in establishing modalities of power. Probing the “officialness” of any given archive, Vokes first relates how Uganda's early colonial administration and, later, Idi Amin's regime shaped local archival practices, before extending his discussion to the etiquette his visitors adhere to when physically engaging with photographs they come across in loose piles and shoeboxes that have been carefully placed throughout the chairman's sitting room. Mindful of the complex issues accompanying the consideration of photographs as physical objects with shifting material agencies, Rippe and Vokes offer examples of how one might follow both the semantic and material logics of photographs as three-dimensional things.2 Building from this, David Zeitlyn writes beautifully about the lost materiality of some of the images he was unable to recover from the local studio of Cameroonian photographer Toussele Jacques, linking the recovery of images in forgotten archives to a potentially redemptive process.3In their contribution to the book's final section, Haney and Bajorek summarize current institutional trends as they relate to African photographic collections and energetically call for innovative archival practices ranging from new digital and conservation initiatives to recent repatriation projects. A perfect end to this collection, their essay not only critiques current archival and collecting practices but offers ways forward through inspiring examples of initiatives stemming from the continent. “Where it is a question of opening up access to photographic collections, the ability to frame and realize projects outside conventional institutional structures has been pushing archival projects into new spaces—physical, social and discursive,” the authors write (p. 216). Elsewhere, Sophie Feyder candidly discusses the successes and tensions that arose while putting together such a project. Addressing issues ranging from copyright to how a private collection becomes a public archive, Feyder adeptly probes the “historical frictions” caused by the mobilization of the once-private Ngilima archive into the public sphere (pp. 153–54). The need to seriously consider the implications that exhibition initiatives have on the construction of local histories is also taken up by Darren Newbury in his honest discussion of his experiences organizing exhibitions of Bryan Heseltine's photographs for South African and British audiences. Questioning the separation of genres, Patricia Hayes also addresses the creation of local narratives in her discussion of the portraits John Liebenberg made in the 1980s of migrant workers living in Namibia's okombone compound and their display, during the Windhoek Month of Photography, on digital screens in the Wernhil Shopping Mall. These authors’ self-reflective discussions of their projects all point to the type of insightful questioning researchers, curators, and the like should undertake in their consideration of their own research, especially when negotiating the complex ways in which the continents’ collections are open to and engage with the present (p. 161).Broadening our understanding of the archive, the contributors offer a range of unique perspectives, rigorous readings, and theoretically compelling engagements with African photographic collections both on and off the continent. Despite the prevalence of the archive in contemporary exhibitions, conferences, and discussions, this new publication offers remarkably fresh insights and a breadth of methodological approaches that both researchers and curators will undoubtedly find useful.4

The study aimed at evaluation of the current state and description of changes in plant communities in wetland habitats in the Czarna river valley and at recommendation of effective methods for the renewal of vegetation on the basis of detail analysis of its spacetime changes. The methods applied included a compilation of field studies (inventory, cartographic study and phytosociological analyses), valorisation of nature, numerical syntaxonomy with the use of MVSP program (Cluster Analysis and PCA) and digital methods GIS (Geomedia Professional 6.1). The field study of the vegetation cover of the Czarna river valley was performed in the years 2010–2011. The space-time analysis of changes in the vegetation cover and renewal of vegetation was made with the use of archive aerial photographs from 1966, topographic maps from 1982 and 2000 and orthophotomaps from 2011. The vegetation cover of the Czarna river valley was found to be composed of 12 plant communities representing 6 syntaxonomic classes, and to include sites of 8 protected species. The space-time analysis of the vegetation cover of the Czarna river valley, taking into account the changes in the forms of the valley use over the period 1966–2011, showed that the area occupied by forest communities in wetland habitats as a result of secondary succession has increased by 0.16 km2, so by 27% with respect to the area of 0.4406 km2 from 1966. Chronological changes in the vegetation cover over this area analysed on the basis of GIS and digital methods indicate that in the wet meadows in the valley studied the secondary succession leads to the reproduction of the potential forest communities that were growing there once in the past. The renewal of forestless greeneries in the Czarna river valley is related to changes in the use of the area realised by mowing and restoration of the earlier hydrological regime in the entire catchment area, changed by the network of channels and drainage ditches.

The construction of reservoirs has a major impact on the floodplain landscape, and their existence also affects land use in the hinterland. The aim of this article is to evaluate the influence of artificial lakes on changes in landscape use and transport networks; in this context, an assessment is provided of the significance of this anthropogenic activity as one of the drivers of landscape change. Old topographic maps and archival aerial photographs are used to analyze changes in the use of landscape and road networks, and these materials are complemented with the latest geographic data in digital form. Utilizing geographic information systems, we assessed the landscape changes and processes in the hinterland of those Czech Republic reservoirs that have an area of 100 ha or more. The results of the research show that landscape change processes are more intensive in the hinterland of the lakes than in the surrounding landscape. The predominant utility function of a reservoir emerged as a key factor in landscape use changes and ongoing processes. A different landscape use scenario can be observed in drinking water reservoirs, especially regarding the leisure and irrigation functions that dominate elsewhere. After the completion of reservoirs, the road and railway networks had an impact on, above all, the connection of the nearest villages in the hinterland of the lakes. The information that we found can be employed in projecting future changes in land use and road networks at newly planned dams.

The archive of aerial photographs, dating 1935–1941 and covering parts of north and central of Ethiopia, is one of the few archives with pre‐1960 remotely sensed data in Africa. It allows adding 30 years of time depth for geographical studies, in contrast to the commonly known oldest imagery dating to 1964, sometimes 1958. These photographs were originally acquired by the Italian military forces, to obtain raw material for warfare purposes and the production of topographic maps. To make the archive accessible, it has been scanned and georeferenced. Procedures used in georeferencing and digitally archiving are detailed in this paper, as well as our experiences with orthorectification and use of the photosets in scientific research. This data set of aerial photographs of Ethiopia in the 1930s has been availed to the wider scientific community through the Pangaea website http://doi.org/10.1594/PANGAEA.920077 (Nyssen et al., 2020, Aerial photographs of Ethiopia 1935–1941) Additionally, a web interface (http://www.ethiopia1935.ugent.be/) allows scientists visualizing the location of relocated photographs, and to select and freely order scenes of interest.

Historian Tina M. Campt began her career by using oral history interviews to consider the lives of black Germans under the Third Reich. Since then, she has become one of the most innovative scholars of photography. In this interview, Campt discusses her most recent book, Listening to Images, and the connections between oral history and working with archives of photographs. Campt describes how practices of dispossession link up with the ways that capital and the state operationalize race. She argues that “quotidian practices of refusal” can be read, or, better, heard and felt, in even the most objectifying photographs.

Access to the internet in today s classrooms has opened the door to a variety of new pedagogies that enhance learning in the geosciences while being easily adopted with minimal investment. Web-based virtual tours, explorable gigapixel panoramas, GIS and Google Fusion Tables allow users access to a wealth of information for conducting in-depth investigations and analyses of locations that are impractical to visit due to time or budgetary constraints. Several of these emerging techniques have been combined to bring field investigations of battlefield terrain into the classroom through virtual fieldwork. The Battle of Gettysburg, the largest ever fought in North America, was significantly influenced by the topography and geology of the farmland surrounding the small Pennsylvania town. This makes the battlefield an excellent venue for teaching the impacts of geology and landscapes on military operations. Several Gettysburg-based projects have been developed to introduce concepts of military geoscience to students and the public and integrate virtual fieldwork into the classroom. One virtual tour of the battlefield (https://sites.google.com/site/gettysburggeologyfieldguide/home) utilizes a traditional webpage platform to explore the effects of geology and topography on the fighting, while another (https://sites.google.com/site/gettysburgvirtualfieldwork/home) uses the unique interactive environment of Google Earth, with traverses, annotations, and immersive high-resolution panoramas that give the user a soldier’s-eye view of the terrain. In-depth investigations of the battlefield can be conducted in the classroom with rock samples (both physical samples and 3D scans), topographic maps, explorable gigapixel petromicrographs, and geolocated GigaPan panoramas of the battlefield (www.gigapan.com). Students are provided samples representing the prominent rocks of the Gettysburg area and topographic maps with marked field stops. They orient themselves using Google Earth, make field observations (including locations of outcrops, weathering patterns of rocks, and topography), and identify rocks in outcrop. After compiling their data and creating a geologic map, they investigate how geology and topography affected the strategies of the Union and Confederate armies and the heavy casualties suffered by both sides. By creating interactive environments, these new tools promote learning through experience and exploration rather than memorization.

The paper investigates Moscow in its historical role as “metropolis” and center of the Soviet urban system in a long-range perspective from 1918 to post-socialism. The focus on “imperial displays” in the capital allows us to reconstruct specific processes of the social construction of metropolitan and imperial spaces in the Soviet Union. As the Soviet capital, Moscow became the center of giant construction sites and nationwide infrastructure systems. The plans for Moscow served as models for the other cities of the Union. While the capital thus became present at the periphery, people as well as social and material goods also moved into the capital and became part of its fabric. The All-Union Agricultural Exhibition VSKhV (Vsesoyuznaya sel’sko-khozyaystvennaya vystavka) and the Metro (underground transport) system were “imperial displays” which show how a metropolitan topography was created, whose representations referred to the different parts of the Soviet empire and embodied relationships of power. Muscovites and visitors from the provinces alike were invited to visit these “other places” as part of the capital. At the same time, the tourists were taken on “virtual tours” of the empire and presented with imaginary spaces, sets of values and power relations in guise of spatial arrangements. Visitors were here and there at the same time, in the center and at the periphery, and they could grasp the presence and the bright future at the same time. These social constructions of space in Moscow are analyzed in comparative perspective, since “national” architectures of capitals but also the practices of great exhibitions always stood in a transnational context. Thus, VSKhV can be compared to the Paris Colonial Exhibition in 1931, whereas great train stations, underground trains or museums as well as department stores and delicatessen selling exotic foods from the colonies were features any metropolis had to have on display. Even Berlin and Paris made plans for constructing their own seaports, a project Moscow succeeded in realizing. The scope of Soviet imperial practices is traced until the nineteen-eighties in order to discuss the “imperial” character of the industrialized mass construction of flats as well as post-Stalinist, modernist projects in the representative city center. Since Moscow kept its “number one” and gateway position to the East European markets and even embarked on global city politics in the late nineties, it would be possible to follow the post-Soviet processes as well. Moscow stayed capital of the Russian Federation and changes rapidly. To be a moskvich, a muscovite, means something special until today. Moscow’s population is extremely divided on the social scale, but all the same all residents are privileged compared to other Russians in terms of resources and access to cultural and educational institutions and to a job market one can only find in one of the Russian big cities, if not in Moscow alone. The gap between Moscow and other Russian cities keeps growing and researchers even speak of “inner colonization”, because Moscow’s money is invested elsewhere in the country to bear profits for Moscow only. It would also be worthwhile looking into how the relationships to the former Soviet republics are inscribed in the new Moscow, e.g. on the main switchboard of Gazprom’s headquarters.

The concept of the “writer flâneur”, as developed by Walter Benjamin, sought to make sense of the seemingly chaotic nineteenth century city. While the flâneur provided a way for new urban structures to be ordered, it was also a transgressive act that involved engaging with urban spaces in new ways. In the contemporary city, where spaces are now heavily controlled and ordered, some members of the city’s socio-ecological community suffer as a result of idealistic notions of who and what belongs in the city, and how we must behave as urban citizens. Many of these ideals emerge from nineteenth century conceptions of the city in contrast to the country (Williams). However, a reimagining of the flâneur can allow for new transgressions of urban space and result in new literary imaginaries that capture the complexity of urban environments, question some of the more damaging processes and systems, offer new ways of connecting with the city, and propose alternative ways of living with the non-human in such places. With reference to the work of Debra Benita Shaw, Rob Shields and Donna Haraway, I will examine how the urban walking figure might be reimagined as cyborg, complicating boundaries between the real and imagined, the organic and inorganic, and between the human and non-human (Haraway Cyborgs). I will argue that the cyborg flâneur allows for new ways of writing and reading the urban and can work to reimagine the city as posthuman multispecies community. As one example of cyborg flânerie, I look to the app Story City to show how a writer can develop new environmental imaginaries in situ as an act of resistance against the anthropocentric ordering of the city. This article intends to begin a conversation about the ethical, political and epistemological potential of cyborg flânerie and leads to several questions which will require further research.Shaping the City: Environmental ImaginariesIn a sense, the flâneur is the product of a utopian imaginary of the city. According to Shields, Walter Benjamin used the flâneur as a literary device to make sense of the changing modern city of Paris: The flâneur is a hero who excels under the stress of coming to terms with a changing ‘social spatialisation’ of everyday social and economic relations which in the nineteenth century increasingly extended the world of the average person further and further to include rival mass tourism destinations linked by railroad, news of other European powers and distant colonies. This expanding spatialization took the form of economic realities such as changing labour markets and commodity prices and social encounters with strangers and foreigners which impinged on the life world of Europeans. (Fancy Footwork 67)Through his writing, these new spaces and inhabitants were made familiar again to those that lived there. In consequence, the flâneur was seen as a heroic figure who approached the city like a wilderness to be studied and tamed:Even to early 20th-century sociologists the flâneur was a heroic everyman—masculine, controlled and as in tune with his environment as James Fenimore Cooper’s Mohican braves were in their native forests. Anticipating the hardboiled hero of the detective novel, the flâneur pursued clues to the truth of the metropolis, attempting to think through its historical specificity, to inhabit it, even as the truth of empire and commodity capitalism was hidden from him. (Shields Flanerie 210)In this way, the flâneur was a stabilising force, categorising and therefore ordering the city. However, flânerie was also a transgressive act as the walker engaged in eccentric and idle wandering against the usual purposeful walking practices of the time (Coates). Drawing on this aspect, flânerie has increasingly been employed in the humanities and social sciences as a practice of resistance as Jamie Coates has shown. This makes the flâneur, albeit in a refigured form, a useful tool for transgressing strict socio-ecological conventions that affect the contemporary city.Marginalised groups are usually the most impacted by the strict control and ordering of contemporary urban spaces in response to utopian imaginaries of who and what belong. Marginalised people are discouraged and excluded from living in particular areas of the city through urban policy and commercial practices (Shaw 7). Likewise, certain non-human others, like birds, are allowed to inhabit our cities while those that don’t fit ideal urban imaginaries, like bats or snakes, are controlled, excluded or killed (Low). Defensive architecture, CCTV, and audio deterrents are often employed in cities to control public spaces. In London, the spiked corridor of a shop entrance designed to keep homeless people from sleeping there (Andreou; Borromeo) mirrors the spiked ledges that keep pigeons from resting on buildings (observed 2012/2014). On the Gold Coast youths are deterred from loitering in public spaces with classical music (observed 2013–17), while in Brisbane predatory bird calls are played near outdoor restaurants to discourage ibis from pestering customers (Hinchliffe and Begley). In contrast, bright lights, calming music and inviting scents are used to welcome orderly consumers into shopping centres while certain kinds of plants are cultivated in urban parks and gardens to attract acceptable wildlife like butterflies and lorikeets (Wilson; Low). These ways of managing public spaces are built on utopian conceptions of the city as a “civilising” force—a place of order, consumption and safety.As environmental concerns become more urgent, it is important to re-examine these conceptions of urban environments and the assemblage of environmental imaginaries that interact and continue to shape understandings of and attitudes towards human and non-human nature. The network of goods, people and natural entities that feed into and support the city mean that imaginaries shaped in urban areas influence both urban and surrounding peoples and ecologies (Braun). Local ecologies also become threatened as urban structures and processes continue to encompass more of the world’s populations and locales, often displacing and damaging entangled natural/cultural entities in the process. Furthermore, conceptions and attitudes shaped in the city often feed into global systems and as such can have far reaching implications for the way local ecologies are governed, built, and managed. There has already been much research, including work by Lawrence Buell and Ursula Heise, on the contribution that art and literature can make to the development of environmental imaginaries, whether intentional or unintentional, and resulting in both positive and negative associations with urban inhabitants (Yusoff and Gabrys; Buell; Heise). Imaginaries might be understood as social constructs through which we make sense of the world and through which we determine cultural and personal values, attitudes and beliefs. According to Neimanis et al., environmental imaginaries help us to make sense of the way physical environments shape “one’s sense of social belonging” as well as how we “formulate—and enact—our values and attitudes towards ‘nature’” (5). These environmental imaginaries underlie urban structures and work to determine which aspects of the city are valued, who is welcomed into the city, and who is excluded from participation in urban systems and processes. The development of new narrative imaginaries can question some of the underlying assumptions about who or what belongs in the city and how we might settle conflicts in ecologically diverse communities. The reimagined flâneur then might be employed to transgress traditional notions of belonging in the city and replace this with a sense of “becoming” in relation with the myriad of others inhabiting the city (Haraway The Trouble). Like the Benjaminian flâneur, the postmodern version enacts a similar transgressive walking practice. However, the postmodern flâneur serves to resist dominant narratives, with a “greater focus on the tactile and grounded qualities of walking” than the traditional flâneur—and, as opposed to the lone detached wanderer, postmodern flâneur engage in a network of social relationships and may even wander in groups (Coates 32). By employing the notion of the postmodern flâneur, writers might find ways to address problematic urban imaginaries and question dominant narratives about who should and should not inhabit the city. Building on this and in reference to Haraway (Cyborgs), the notion of a cyborg flâneur might take this resistance one step further, not only seeking to counter the dominant social narratives that control urban spaces but also resisting anthropocentric notions of the city. Where the traditional flâneur walked a pet tortoise on a leash, the cyborg flâneur walks with a companion species (Shields Fancy Footwork; Haraway Companion Species). The distinction is subtle. The traditional flâneur walks a pet, an object of display that showcases the eccentric status of the owner. The cyborg flâneur walks in mutual enjoyment with a companion (perhaps a domestic companion, perhaps not); their path negotiated together, tracked, and mapped via GPS. The two acts may at first appear the same, but the difference is in the relationship between the human, non-human, and the multi-modal spaces they occupy. As Coates argues, not everyone who walks is a flâneur and similarly, not everyone who engages in relational walking is a cyborg flâneur. Rather a cyborg flâneur enacts a deliberate practice of walking in relation with naturecultures to transgress boundaries between human and non-human, cultural and natural, and the virtual, material and imagined spaces that make up a place.The Posthuman City: Cyborgs, Hybrids, and EntanglementsIn developing new environmental imaginaries, posthuman conceptions of the city can be drawn upon to readdress urban space as complex, questioning utopian notions of the city particularly as they relate to t

Archive fund of the composer Mark Karminsky

Statement of the problem. In solving the problem of opera adaptations in film, the experience of W. Felzenstein’s cinematic creativity remains relevant. The interaction of the two arts contributes to a new reading of well-known plots, a paradoxical discovery of the inner world of heroes, and a rethinking of musical scores. The W. Felsenstein’s creative method is studied in the works of E. Kolesnyk (2021) and L. Loboda (2017).The articles of O. Babiy (2015), A. Yefimenko (2021), O. Serdiuk (2025) are devoted to analysis of the opera «Fidelio». V. Obraz (2011) investigates the issue of translating opera into the language of cinema. The film-opera “Fidelio” (1956) is analyzed by S. Hake (2016), M. Vieira de Carvalho (2020). Objectives, methods, and novelty of the research. The purpose of the study is to reveal the aesthetic principles of W. Felsenstein’s musical theater in the film adaptation of Beethoven’s opera ”Fidelio”. The features of W. Felsenstein’s cinematic heritage in the context of his theatrical principles is determined that is the innovative component of the research. An interdisciplinary approach was used, combining musicological, filmological , hermeneutic, and comparative analysis. Research results. W. Felsenstein’s cinematic work was an attempt to document the concepts underlying his stage productions. The principles and guidelines of his musical theater (realism and universality of the theater, the creation of backstories for heroes, the use of articulated and silent singing, the detailed depiction of choral scenes) find their realization in the director’s cinematic works. Conclusion. The problem of audiovisual parallelism is solved by achieving the reliability of the film image (dubbing of actors, silent singing, expanded cinematic narrative space). The action in the film is dramatized by replacing the sung dialogues of the opera with spoken scenes, singspiel’s spoken text into “silent” image, and the condensation of the material by connecting the ‘attacca’ scenes with the preservation of the tempo and rhythm of the music. The “literal” interpretation of the score fills the dramatic play of the singers with an “inner tempo”, and this rhythmic condensation is manifested in the synchronous accentuation of music and image. Cinematic techniques of smooth and rhythmic editing, blurring of frame boundaries, perspective shooting, and symbolic frame construction visualize real / imaginary spaces that concretize and deepening the psychological portraits of the characters.

The Oxford Handbook of the History of Archaeology explores a wide range of topics in an original manner. The volume is divided into seven parts, each covering a broad theme. Part I encompasses chapters on methodology and theory: who has written about the history of archaeology; how to work with archives and oral history, photo archives, and biographies; and a critical view about “genius,” “precursors,” and “great (white) men.” Part II deals with the practices of archaeology throughout the centuries: excavation methods, the use of stratigraphy, human remains, and the interaction between archaeology and other sciences. Objects, artifact distribution, and museums are the focus of the following set of chapters in Part III. Part IV overviews a selection of fields of archaeological research and types of archaeology, including gender, historical, conflict, public, and commercial archaeologies. Institutions and legislation are the focus of Part V: selected topics encompass the history of foreign schools in the Mediterranean, of the international congresses of archaeology, the relationship between archaeology and education, legislation, and the illicit trade in antiquities. Part VI deals with ideologies and the political context of archaeology: the religious context of particular archaeological projects in the history of the discipline; nationalism, colonialism, imperialism, and the postcolonial turn; orientalism; race and racism; and the impact of communism on archaeological theory, methodology, and practice in countries with communist governments in the twentieth century. Part VII explores the social history of archaeology, with a focus on women, amateurs, the army, tourism, economics, and communities.