REPRESENTATION28 RIPRI SENTATION, CUI TURAL REPRESENTATIONS AND SICNIEYING FRAC ICES:
When the yellow light is showing,
Now add an instruction allowing pedestrians and cyclists only to cross,
using Pink.
Provided the code tells us clearly how to read or interpret each colour, and
overyone agrees to interpret them in this way, any colour will do. These are
just colours, just as the word SHEEP is just a jumble of letters, In French the
same animal is referred to using the very different linguistic sign MOUTON.
Signs are arbitrary. Their meanings are fixed by codes.
As we said earlier, traffic lights are machines, and colours are the material
effect of light-waves on the retina of the eye. But objects ~ things ~ can also
function as signs, provided they have boen assigned a concept and meaning
within our cultural and linguistic codes, As signs, they work symbolically —
they represent concepts, and signify. Their effects, however, are felt in the
material and social world, Red and Greon function in the language of traffic:
Jights as signs, but they have real material and social effects. They regulate
the social behaviour of drivers and, without them, there would be many more
traffic accidents at road intersections.
‘We have some a long way in exploring the nature of representation. It is time
to summanze what we have learned about the constructionist approach to
representation through language.
Representation is the production of meaning through language. In
representation, constructionists argue, we use signs, organized into languages
of different kinds, to communicate meaningfully with others. Languages can
use signs to symbolize, stand for or reference objects, people and events in
the so-called ‘real’ world. But they can also reference imaginary things and
fantasy worlds or abstract icteas which are not in any obvious sense part of
our material world. There is ao simple relationship of reflection, imitation or
one-to-one correspondence between language and the real world, The world
is not accurately or otherwise reflected in the mirror of language. Language
oes not work like a mirror, Meaning is produced within language, in and
through various representational systems which. for convenience, we call
‘languages’ Meaning is produced by the practice, the ‘work’, of
representation. It is constructed through signifying ~ i.e. meaning-producing
~ practices
How does this take plac? In fact, it depends on two different but related
systems of representation. First, the concepts which are formed in the mind
function as a system of mental representation which classifies and organizes
the world into meaningful catugories. If we have a concept for something, wo
can say we know its ‘meaning’ Bat we cannot commanicate this meaning
without a second system of representation, a language. Language consists of
signs organized into various relationships. But signs can only convey meaningHAL WORK —RIPEESENIAHON —6F
in the place of the Sovereign! You can imagine what fun Foucault had with
this substitution,
Foucault argues that it is clear from the way the discourse of reprosentation
works in the pajnting that it must be looked at and made sense of from that
one subject-position in front of it from which we, the spectators, are looking,
This is also the point-of-viow from which a camora would have to be
positioned in order to film the scene. And, lo and behold. the person whom
‘Velasquez chooses to ‘represent’ sitting in this position is The Sovereign —
‘master of all he surveys’ — who is both the ‘subject of the painting (what it is
about) and the ‘subject in’ the painting — the one whom the discourse sets in
place, but who, simultanvously, makes sense of it and understands it all by a
look of supreme mastery.
We started with a fairly simple definition of representation. Representation
is the process by which members of a culture use language (broadly defined
as any system which deploys signs, any siguifying system) to produce
meaning. Already, this definition carries the important premise thal things ~
objects, people, events, in the world ~ do not have in themsolves any fixed.
final or true meaning. i is us — in society, within human cultures - who
make things mean, who signify. Meanings, consequently, will always
change, from one culture or period to another. There is no guarantee that
every object in one cniture will have an equivalent meaning in another,
precisely because cultures differ, sometumes radically, from one another in
their codes ~ the ways they carve up, classify and assign meaning to the
world. So one important idea about representation is the acceptance of a
degree of cultural relativism between one culture and another, a certain lack
of equivalence, and hence the need for translation as we move from the
mind-set or conceptual universe of one culture or another.
We call this the constructionist approach to representation, contrasting it
with both the reflective and the intentional approaches. Now, if culture is a
process, a practice, how does it work? in the constructionist perspective,
representation involves making meaning by forging links between three
different orders of things: what we might broadly call the world of things,
people, events and experiences, the conceptual world ~ the mental concepts
we carry around in our heads; and the signs, arranged into languages, which
‘stand for’ or communicate these concepts. Now, if you have to make a link
between systems which are not the same, and fix these at least for a time so
‘that other people know what, in one system, corresponds to what in another
system, theo there must be something which allows us to translate between
them — telling us what word to use for what concept, and so on. Hence the
notion of codes.94 REPRESENT ATION: CULTURAL REPRESENT ONS AND SIGNIFYING PRACTICES
fraternal, consensus on the role of the state. but absence of a more precise
vision of the society to be reconstructed. The social futuro defined itself
negatively, against the overcautious bourgeoisie of the Third Republic,
against the ruralist society of Pétain.
{is, from Borne, 1992, p. 22)
A consensus founded more on a sontimental than an ideological terrain, a
‘goneral humanism, the desire for a society more just and fraternal, consensus
on the role of the state, but absence of a more precise vision of the society to
be reconstructed’: such could be the general definition of what constitutes the
social vision uf the photographers whose work we consider here. Their
humanism is most evident in the ‘universal’ character of many of their
themes: family, community, comradeship, love, childhood, popular
pleasures. However, the foregrounding of the classe onvriére in the post-war
consensus meant that the humanist photographers tended to focus their
cameras un this group of rather included workers within a slightly less
clear-cut social order, the classe populaire, which encompassed social
categories normally placed outside the classe ouvriare, such as small
shopkeepers and self-employed artis
‘The torm class populaire requires a little explanation, as when literally
translated into English as ‘popular class’ it completely loses the meaning it
has within a French context, Dictionaries often simply translate it as ‘working
class’ which is too limiting. for in Freach the term evokes the idea of the
popular masses, whe aight inchicle a wide range of economic or
occupational groups in addition to manual workers ~ office workers,
teachers, nurses. retired people, even agricultural workers and peasant
smallholder. etc. The term has political connotations, too, for there is
constantly presont the idea that the classe popauire is a potentially
revolutionary social grouping. We might in English describe the sorts of
people it includes as ‘the common people’ but this is both vaguer and less
indicative of the values or culture of the classe populaire, which for French
society of the mid-twentieth century was a term quite clearly redolent of a
whole range of associations: a revolutionary history (whose most recent
outburst bad been the Popular Front in 1936 and the Liberation of Paris in
1944); and particular forms of leisure anil entertainment which revolved
around the bistrot or guinguette, the bal tusette, music hall and the lyrical
ballads of an Edith Piaf or Maurice Chevalier
‘The emphasis on universal humanity, in this context, means the
representation of major issues and concerns through their impact on specific,
individuals who are shown as the agents of their own destinies. {is a
reaction agaist those totalitarian ideologies and impersonal economic forces
which tend to treat people as 4 monolithic and de-individualized mass.
Although this approach is most characteristically and dynamically displayed
in the magazines and books of the period 1945~60, its roots are clearly visible
in the now wave of reportage photography for the mass-market illustrated
magazines which had appeared earlier, in the 1930s. This was the period inCHAPIIR 2 FRANC ANID FRENCHNISS IN POST WAKIIUMANIS! PHOFOGRARHY 127
The idea that the photographs of
Ronis and other humanists are
concerned with a ‘poetic realism’ is
aptly expressed by Mac Orlan, But it
is also closely connected to the
existing demand within the
publishing trade for books about
Paris and its sights. There was a
strong market in France for album
books ~ well-zoproduced collections
of photographs on a given theme,
supplomented with a text usually
presented in the forin of a preface
weitten by a prominent author. In the
late 19405 and early 1950s, several of
Ronis’s confrores had produced such
works: Robert Doisaeau with Blaise
Cendrars in La Banlieue de Paris
(1949) and Instantanés de Paris
(1955); Henri Cartier-Bresson with
‘Vériade in Images a la Sauvette
(1952): Izis with Jean Cocteau in
Paris des Reves (1980); Izis with
Jacques Prévert in Grand Bal du
Printemps (1951) and Charmes de
Londres (1952); and Izis with Colette
in Paradis Tercestre (1953). There
were also several compilations
FIGURE 2.15 where many of the humanists were represented, such as Francois Cali's
Wily Ronis, Place Sortileges de Paris (1952). All of these publications encapsulated one or other
Vendime, 1947 aspect of the poetic realism of humanist photography. Interestingly, they
could contain more oblique references to Parisian monuments. as in Willy
Ronis's Place Vendénw, 1947 (see Figuze 215) and Robert Doisneau’s Place
de la Bastille, 1947 (see Figure 2.16) ‘The symbolic: role of Paris as the
representation of a new France in which past and present intermingle thus
combined with a demand for touristic images consumed as much if not more
in France than abroad (many of the photographic albwuns of Paris published
in this era with images by the humanists have only French toxts)160 REPRESENTATION: CULTURAL REPRESENTATIONS AND SIGNIFYING PRACIICES
display objects, artefacts or works of arts of various kinds’, we find that the
Musacum Tradescantianum fits this description as easily asa
contemporary museum might, Yet the manner and spirit in which the
Musaeum Tradescantianum undertook those activities was clearly quite
different. ‘This is particularly evident in its mode of classification, The
way in which the Musaeum Tradescantianum acquired, safeguarded,
conserved, and displayed was in accordance with a distinat world-view
which saw sense in what might be termed a hodge-podge of marvellous
objects, a logical vision which had abandoned theological principles of
classification, but had yet to adopt scientific ones (Pomian, 1996, p. 64).
So, unexpectedly perhaps, we find that uur preliminary definition still holds;
but, more importantly, we have established that a museum does not deal
solely with objects but. more importantly, with what we could call, for the
moment, ideas — notions of what the world is, o should be. Museums do not
simply issue objective descriptions or form logical assemblages; they
{generate representations and attribute value and meaning in line with certain
perspectives or classificatory schernas which are historically specific. They
do not so nnuch reflect the world through objects as use them to mobilize
representations of the world past and present.
I this is true of all museums, what kind of classificatory schema might an
“ethnographic” museum employ and what kinds of representations might it
mobilize?
“To answer this we must know what the word ‘ethnography’ means.
Ethnography comes from ethnos meaning ‘people/race/nation’, and graphein
meaning ‘writing/description’ Su a common definition might state that
cllnography seeks ‘to describe nations of people with their customs, habits
and points of difference’ We are confronted by the knowledge that a
definition of ethnography seeks to include notions of science and difference,
In fact ethnography is a word which has acquired a range of meanings.
Contemporary usage frequently invokes ‘ethnography’ to describe in-depth
empirical research and a variety of data collection techniques which rely on.
prolonged and intensive interaction between the researcher and her/his
subjects of research, which usually results in the production of an
‘ethnographic text’ But, historically. the definition has been far mote
specific. In the British context, ‘ethnography’ refers to the research methods
and texts that were linked most particularly with the human sciences of
anthropology (the science of tnan or mankind, in the widest sense) and
ethnology (the science which considers races and people and their
relationship to one another, their distinctive physical and other
characteristics). So when one refers to ethnographic museums today, one is
placing them within « discrete discipline and theoretical framework ~CHAPTER 3 TUL POETICS AND THE POUIKCS OF PXLIBITING OIA 19
‘history’ (Coombes, 1994a, p. 121, 123). So the Pitt Rivers Museum mobilized
an evaluative discourse concerning the civilizing effect of culturo on the
ass of the population. The museum was expected to bring social benefit by
shaping the intellect and transforming social behaviour (Bennett, 1994,
p. 26).
In the late nineteeuth century, bids for anthropology to be recognized as a
science of humanity coincided with the rapid expansion of the ‘museum
idea’ ‘The ‘musoum idea’, simply put, was the belief that museums were an
ideal vehicle for pubtic instruction: by contemplating cultural artefacts on
display, the common man/woman could become receptive to ‘their
improving influence’ (Bennett, 1994, p. 23). The belief in the ‘multiplication
of culture’s utility’ was not restricted to museums but extended to art
golleries and libraries fibid.). The rise of anthropology as a discipline
coincided with and was supported by the ferment in exhibiting activity,
either in the shape of the great exhibitions or in the shape of museums which
arose int great numbers all over Britain between 1890-1920 (Greenhalgh,
1993, p. 88). Su one can argue that the Pitt Rivers Museum was implicated in
other discourses of ‘self’ and “uther’ which produced a division betwoen
geographically distanced cultures, but also between the cultures of the
different classes of British society.
To conclude, it has been shown that both the Tradescant and the Pitt Rivers
collections/museums are historical products. But it hus equally been stated
that what distinguishes the Pitt Rivers collection is the particular articulation
between the evolutionary discourse and the method of display which it
implemented. The Pitt Rivers Museum, it can be argued, at this historical
juncture (the late mneteenth century) promoted and legitimized the
reduction of cultures to ubjacts. so that they could be judged and ranked in
a hierarchical relationship with each other. This anthropological - or more
properly, ethnographic — discourse did not reflect the ‘real’ state of the
cultures it exhibited so much as the power relationship between those
subjected to such classification and those promoting it.
As we have shown in the previous section, a Foucauldian interpretation of
exhibiting would state that ethnographic objects are defined and classified
according to the frameworks of knowledge that allow them to be understood
We have considered the representations that museums produced and how
these are linked to discourse, Bul, as was hinted in the last section and as you
saw in Chapter 1, Foucault also argues that discourses do not operate in
isolation, they occur in formations ~ discursive formations. The term
discursive formation, refers to the systematic operation of several discourses
or statements constituting a ‘body of knowledge’, which work together to
construct a specific object/topic of analysis in a particular way, and to limit
the other ways in which that object/topic may be constituted. In the case of
museum displays, such a formation might include anthropological, aesthetic,na
READING C:
Sander Gilman, ‘The deep structure of stereotypes’
READING D:
Kobena Mercer, ‘Reading racial fetishism’
284
288OTH 257
of the Dust) or John Singleton (Boys ’n’ the Hood) — to put their own
interpretations on the way blacks figure within ‘the American experience’
‘This has broadened the regime of racial representation ~ the result of a historic
‘struggle around the image’ — a polities of representation ~ whose strategies we
need to examine more carefully.
Before we pursue this argument, however, we need to reflect further on how
this racialized regime of representation actually works. Essentially, this
involves examining more deeply the set of representational practices known
as stereotyping. So far, we have considered the essentializing, reductionist
and naturalizing effects of stereotyping. Stereotyping reduces people to a fow,
simple, essential characteristics, which are represented as fixed by Nature
Here, we examine four further aspects: (a) the construction of ‘otherness’ and
exclusion; (b) stereotyping and power; (c) the role of fantasy; and (d)
fetishism.
Stereotyping as a signifying practice is central to the representation of racial
difference. But what is a stereotype? How does it actually work? In his essay
‘on ‘Stereotyping’, Richard Dyer (1977) makes an important distinction
between typing and stereotyping. He argues that, without the use of types,
would be difficult, if not impossible, to make sense of the world. We
understand the world by referring individual objects, people or events in our
head's to the general classificatory schemes into which ~ according te our
culture ~ they fit. Thus we ‘decode’ a flat object un legs on which we place
things as a ‘table’ We may never have seen that kind of ‘table’ before, but we
have a general concept or category of ‘table’ in our heads. into which we ‘fit”
the particular objects we perceive or encounter, In other words, we
understand ‘the particular’ in terms of its ‘type’ We deploy what Allred
Schutz called typifications. In this sense. ‘typing’ is essontial to the
production of meoning (an argument we made earlier in Chapter 1).
Richard Dyer argues that we are always ‘making sense’ of things in terms of
some wider categories. Thus, for example, we come to "know" something
about person by thinking of the roles which he or she performs. is he/she a
parent, a child, a worker, a lover, boss, or an old ago pensioner? We assign
him/her to the membership of different groups, according to class, gender,
age group, nationality, ‘race’, linguistic group, sexual preference and so on.
We order him/her in terms of personality (ype — is he/she a happy, serious,
depressed, scatter-bruined, over-active kind of person? Our picture of who
tho person ‘is’ is built up out of the information we accumulate from
positioning him/her within these different orders of typification. In broad
terms, then, ‘a type is any simple, vivid, memorable, easily grasped and
widely recognized characterization in which a few traits are foregrounded and
change or “development” is kept to a mininvam’ (Dyer, 1977. p. 28).sto show, by the documentary evidence of
photography, the inherent ‘inferiority’ of the Other
This is overlaid with deeper ambivalence in the
portrait of Teszel, whose grotesque gritaave calls up
the happy/sad mask of tho nigger minstrel:
pumanized by racial pathos, the Sambs stexeotype
haunts the scone, evoking the black man’s
supposedly childlike dependency on ole Mass,
which in tum fixes bis soctal, legal and existential
‘emasculation’ at the hands of the white master.
Finally, two codes togethor ~ of erpping and
lighting ~ interponetrate the flesh and mortify it
into a racial sex fetish, a juju doll from the dark
side of the white man’s imaginary ‘The body-wholo
is fragmented into microscope details ~ chest,
arms, torsv, buttocks, penis ~ inviting a scopophitic
dissection of the parts thet make up the whole
Indeed, like a talisman, each part is invested
the power to evoke the ‘mystique’ of black male
sexuality with more perfection than:
empirically umified whole. The came ats away,
like a knife, allowing the spectator to inspect the
‘goods’ In such fetishistic attention to detail, tiny
scars and blemishes on the surfaco of black skin
serve only to heighten the lechnical perfectinnisin
of the photographie print. The cropping and
fragmentation of bodies = often decapitated, so to
spoak — is a saliont feature of pornography, and has
boon seon from cortain feminist pasitinns as a form
of male violence, a literal inscription ol a sedistic
impulse in the male gaze, whose pleasuse thes
consists of cutting up womon's budies into vista
bits and pieces. Whether or not this view is
tenable, the effect of the technique hore is to
suggest aggression in the act of looking, but not as
racial violence ot racism-as-hate; on the contiary,
aggrossion as the frustration of the eyo who finds
the object of his desires out of reach, inaccussible,
‘The cropping is analogous to striptease in this
sense, as the exposure of successive body parts
distances the erntagenic object, making i
untouchable so as to tantalize the drive to look,
which reaches its aim in the denaument by which
the woman's sex is unveiled Except here the
‘unveiling that reduces the woman from angel to
whore fs substituted by the unconcealing of the
Diack man’s private parts, with tbe pins as the
forbidden totem of colenial fantasy
As each fragment seduces the eye into ever mute
intonse fascination, we ghimpsa the dilation of a
ADINGS FOR CHAPIL 289
libidinal way of looking that spreads itself across,
tho surface of black skin, Harsh contrasts of
shadow and light draw the eye to focus and fix
attention on the texture of the black man’s skin.
According to Bhabha unlike the soxual fetish pe
se, whose meanings are usually hidden as a
hermeneutic secret, skin color functions as ‘the
most visible of fetishes’ (Babbha, 1983, p. 30}
Whether itis devalorized in the signifying chain of
‘negrophobia’ or hypervalorized as a desirable
attribute in ‘negrophilia’, the fotish of skin color in
the codes uf racial discourse constitutes the mast
visible olamont in the articulation of what Stuart
Hall (1977) calls the othnic signifier’ The shining
surfice of black skin serves severul functions in its
ropresontation. it suggests the physical exestinn of
poworful bodies, as black boxers always glisten like
‘bronzo in the suininated squaro of the boxing, ring,
or, in pornography. i suggests intense sexual
activity ‘just before” the photograph was taken, a
donymic stimulus to arouse spectatoriat
participation in the imagined mise-eu-scene In
Mapplethorpe's picturvs the spacular brilliance of
black skio is bound in a double articulation as +
fixing agent for tho Fotishistic structure of tho
photogtaphs, ‘There 1s a sublle slippage between
represonter and represented. as the shiny. polished,
sheen of black sksn becomes consubstantial with
the luxurious allure of the high-quality
photographic print, As Victor Burgin has remarked
(1980, p_ 100), sexual fetishism dovetails with
sommodity-fetishism to inflate the economic value
‘of the print in art photography as much as in
fashion photography, the ‘gtossies’ Here. black
skin and print surface are bound together to
enhance the pleasure of the white spectator as
much as the profitability of those art-world
commodities exchanged among the artist and his
doale collectors and curators.
In overyday discourse fetishism probably connotes
coviant or ‘kinky’ sexuality. and calls up images of
lather smd nubberwoar as signs of sexual
perversity. This is not a fortuitous example, as
Joather fashion has a sensuous appeal as a kind of
‘second skin’ When one considers that such
clothes are invariably black, vathor th any ether
color, such fashion-fetishism suggests a desire to
simulate or imitate black skin On the other hand,
Froud's thoorization of fetishism as a clinical
phenomenon of sexual pathology and patversion is
problematic in many ways, but the central notion ofHINTING MaSCMUNITY 321
is fundamentally at odds with the Foucauldian account which I set out in
section 3, with ~ in my view ~ its very proper eumphasis on the historical
character of identities. Let me explain why | think it is oxtromely difficult to
square the differences between a psychoanalytic and a Foucauldian account of
identity.
Lacan and Freud are both explicitly concemed with the primary processes
that constitute identity; that is, those processes that forge [in Juliet Mitchell's
phrase) ‘the burnan in culture’ (Mitchell, 1984, p. 237). These processes are,
for psychoanalysis, universal ~ that is, they have a transhistorical status. fn
addition, they follow a developmental pattern involving a number of phases:
they are secured unconsciously and are fixed by the parameters of Ocdipal
order- the underlying universal structuring of human relations which Freud
and Lacan posit.
Itis this universal account of the formation of identity, however, that is so
problematic in relation to Foucautt’s deeply historical emphasis. The
psychosexual structures of the Oedipal order are given the privileged position
in accounting for (almost) all there is to say about the formation of identity.
‘The arguments of Mulvey and Neale do attempt, certainly, to moderate this
universal account of identity. In considering the interplay between psychic
structures and historically specific forms of representation (Hollywood
cinema), they do suggest that these representations can carry real force.
However, in deseribing the articulation of the social/historical with psychic
structures, the psychic is privileged as providing the fundamental parameters
of identity. In analysis of the look and the gendered positioning of individuals,
there is a search for the positions of looking given by particular visual texts in
terms of the fundamental tropes of sexual difference ~ active/passive:
masculine/feminine; mother/son; father/daughter. Subjectivization, then, is
conceptualized in these accounts as being secured through the reactivation of
the fundamental positions of identity which Froud posits ~ ultimately, always
in the terms of the Oedipal order. Historical and social factors which
determine identity are — in the ond ~ reduced to the calculus of psychosexual
structures. In addition, the emphasis on psychosexuel structures produces a
reductive account of identity conceived fundamentally in terms of sexual
difference. in other words, psychoanalysis privileges the acquisition of gender
and sexual identity as the bedrock of identity, Other determinants upon
identity (such as class) are effectively sidelined.
While psychoanalysis can give clear account of the articulation of
individuals with fields of represontation, and cortainly poses some important
questions ubout the unconscious and about desize and the look, this is in the
end too ahistorical and totalizing. It pitches ‘secondary’ processes of
identification only at the level of primary processes and sees identity only in
terms of sexual difference (Morley, 1980). Where, then, does this leave our
account of subjectivization? The attention to the organization of spectatorship
as a way of conceptuslizing subjectivization does point to important
ptocesses. want to hold on to this concern with spectatorship, but not in itsCHAPTER 6 GLNRE AND GENDER, HA 353
connotation, its main function being to reinforce normative meanings and
values. Genre theory was developed as a means of countering this
deterministic conception by seeking to understand the productive work of
convention in the context of three interconnected but distinct ‘moments’ or
‘stages’ in the cultural work of the media industries
1 Production and distribution: financiers, studios, TV companies,
producers and controllers, censors, script-writers, directors, stars,
festivals and awards, advertising and publicity, trade press, etc.
2. The product or text: genres and programme formats, conventions,
narrative structures. styles, iconography, performances, stars, ele
3. Reception: going to the cinema, the TV schedule, ‘girls’ night out’ the
family audience, the kitchen TY, the gaze at the cinema scteen, the glance
at the TV screen, pin-ups, reviews and reviewers, etc
‘The approach from the perspective of ‘media domination’ argues that it is the
iron control of stage 1 ~ Production — over the processes going on in stages 2
and 3 which produces formulaic conventions and stereotypes as part of a
cultural agsembly line and as a means of maintaining dominant ideologies.
However, the variety of procedures and practices involved in the production
and consumption of genre fiction undertaken at each stage suggests the
complexity of the relations between production, product and reception ot
‘consumption’ and thus the difficulty of imposing economic, ideological and
cultural control, even at the Jevel ol production
‘Tho alternative approach, developed by genre theory, is useful because it
enables us to define the relationship between these three stages, not as the
imposition of ‘media domination’ but rather as a struggle over which meanings,
which definitions of reality, will win the consent of the audionce and thus
establish themselves as the privileged reading of an episode (hegemony).
Hegemony is established and contested in the interaction and negotiation
between (1) industrial production, (2) the semiotic work of the text. aud (3)
audience reception. Moreover, each stage contains within itself potential
tensions and contradictions between the different economic, professional
aesthetic and personal practices and cultural traditions involved
First Jet us examine the genre system at the level of production, focusing on
the repeatability of genre conventions as a key to the mass prodaction of
fictions. The economic rationale for genre production is. perhaps, most
vividly illustrated by the Hollywood studio system. As is frequently
asserted, filin-inaking is a hugely costly affair requiring capital investmont
both in plant ~ studio buildings, technological hardware, laboratories,
cinemas ~ and in individual productions, Economies of scale require
standardization of production and the emergence of popular genres — which
began with the growth of nineteenth-century mass fiction and syndicated
theatrical entertainments ~ served this need. The elaborate sets, costume