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Shapiro - Slow Looking
Shapiro - Slow Looking
International Studies
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Slow Looking: The Ethics and Politics of Aesthetics: Jill Bennett, Empathic
Vision: Affect, Trauma, and Contemporary Art (Stanford, CA: Stanford
University Press, 2005) Mark Reinhardt, Holly Edwards, and Erina Duganne,
Beautiful Suffering: Photography and the Traffic in Pain (Chicago, IL:
University of Chicago Press, 2007) Gillo Pontecorvo, director, The Battle of
Algiers (Criterion: Special Three-Disc Edition, 2004)
Michael J. Shapiro
Millennium - Journal of International Studies 2008 37: 181
DOI: 10.1177/0305829808093770
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© 2008 The Author(s)
Millennium: Journal of International Studies Vol.37 No.1, pp. 181–197
ISSN 0305-8298; DOI: 10.1177/0305829808093770
http://mil.sagepub.com
This review essay treats three texts: Jill Bennett, Empathic Vision: Affect,
Trauma, and Contemporary Art; Mark Reinhardt, Holly Edwards, and
Erina Duganne, Beautiful Suffering: Photography and the Traffic in Pain;
and The Battle of Algiers, directed by Gillo Pontecorvo.
Keywords: aesthetics, ethics, pain
181
fatter or thinner? Does Somalia still exist? And in fact did it ever exist?
Could it be only the name of a mirage?2
As Kundera’s narrator points out, the impressions left by stark images
of suffering carried in news media have too brief an exposure to have a
lasting effect on people’s sympathies. In contrast, while the momentarily
timely images carried by news media may be ephemeral, the genre of
the exhibition, which yields an accompanying and enduring catalogue/
text, is one in which what becomes effaced as a news event is restored,
reflected on, and made publicly available for extended ethical and political
negotiation. Museum exhibitions have sufficient exposure over time to
‘frame’ and often ‘reframe’ a society’s conversations.3 Like some other
artistic genres, they make available for extended public witnessing and
discussion what daily media has forgotten. Mieke Bal’s contribution to
a remarkable and timely volume, Beautiful Suffering: Photography and the
Traffic in Pain, which was issued as a companion volume to an exhibition
by that name at Williams College (28 January–30 April 2006), points to
the more enduring effects of photographic exhibitions. Just as Kundera’s
novel is an ode to slowness, to the savoring of life’s vivid presence, Bal
recommends ‘slow looking’ as an approach to the images and curatorial
organization that comprised the Beautiful Suffering exhibit and endures in
the accompanying text. Bal’s recommendation sets up the genre-reception-
empathy issues I am exploring as I treat the way recent texts in diverse
genres encourage thinking about the ethics and politics of aesthetics.
Specifically, in this review essay I examine Beautiful Suffering: Photography
and the Traffic in Pain along with two other texts: Jill Bennett’s Empathic
Vision: Affect, Trauma, and Contemporary Art and the recent DVD version
of Gillo Pontecorvo’s film The Battle of Algiers, reissued with new and past
commentaries and interviews that are contained in two supplementary
DVDs. The three texts have strong contemporary resonance because pain and
suffering, which are the central focus in all three, are objects of current policy
and contentious public reaction and debate, which intensified after images
of the abuse of ‘detainees’ at the Abu Ghraib prison in Iraq achieved public
notoriety. While as Kundera points out through his fictional characters, pain
and suffering have a brief public life as images in daily news media, other
media genres summon a more analytic reaction, not only because of their
subject matter but also because of both their ‘ideology of form’4 and their
availability for ‘slow looking’ and thus extended reflection. They endure to
provoke both sensation and criticism, resonating with embodied memories
2. Ibid., 79.
3. The museum exhibition’s effects of framing and reframing society’s conver-
sations is developed in Richard Sandell, Museums, Prejudice and the Reframing of
Difference (New York: Routledge, 2007).
4. The concept of the ‘ideology of form’ is by Fred Jameson, in his early work.
See for example his The Political Unconscious: Narrative as a Socially Symbolic Act
(Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1982).
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Shapiro: Slow Looking
and encouraging public reflection and negotiation over the meanings and
significance of what they reveal. For example, when close-up views of the
victims of war policy become available for more than fleeting instances, ‘the
aesthetic finds itself in extreme proximity to the ethico-political,’5 a proximity
I explore in my encounter with the texts under review.
Genre Effects
My focus in coming to terms with the issues raised in the three texts is on
the ethico-political effects of forms of visual culture that display pain and
suffering in media that afford more space for contemplation and reflection
than does the rapid dissemination and displacement of images of suffer-
ing typical of broadcast media. The bookends of the analysis – the Beautiful
Suffering Exhibition and Pontecorvo’s The Battle of Algiers – provide a con-
trast of still and moving images, while Bennett’s philosophical treatment
of the connections between vision and empathy (in which her illustrations
include both photography and film) provides a frame for theorizing the
reception of images in general. An analysis of the critical impact of the
three texts involves thinking through connections among the temporal
context of visual genres, the special contributions of the way different
artistic genres derive ethico-political implications from the way they dis-
play images of pain and suffering, and, more generally, the way aesthetic
modes of comprehension articulate with ethico-political ones.
The temporal context of the reception of photographs is crucial to
an analysis of Beautiful Suffering’s contribution. As Lynne Kirby points
out in her treatment of the difference between the temporal contexts of
televised events and continuously available photographic images:
Photography traffics in fixed stable images; electronics in highly unstable
ones. Photography gives the viewer a material trace to scrutinize at length,
rip out of the newspaper, pause to examine and return to. Video, as television
image, is ephemeral, unlasting, and inscrutable.6
Moreover, as Susan Sontag has noted in her reaction to the dissemi-
nation of the photos of abused at Abu Ghraib, ‘For a long time – at least
six decades – photographs have laid down the tracks of how important
conflicts are judged and remembered.’7 Of course what all visual media
183
8. Elaine Scarry, The Body in Pain: The Making and Unmaking of the World (New
York: Oxford University Press, New Edition, 1987), 13.
9. Ibid.
10. See Michael Moss and Soaud Mekhennet, ‘Jailed 2 Years, Iraqi Tells of
Abuse by Americans,’ The New York Times on the web: http://www.nytimes.
com/2007/02/18/world/middleeast/18bucca.html, obtained 18 February 2007.
11. Andre Bazin, What Is Cinema Vol. 2, trans. Hugh Gray (Berkeley, CA: Univer-
sity of California Press, 1971), 37.
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Shapiro: Slow Looking
Beautiful Suffering
This image, which was part of the exhibition, was selected as the text’s
cover (Figure 1). Taken together with its caption, ‘One of four Iraqis who
surrendered to the marines, saying they were students trying to escape the
fighting,’ it conveys both an image of abject suffering and an experience
of ‘injustice’ (to the extent that the viewer is encouraged to translate an
image of suffering as ‘adversity,’ i.e. as unwarranted suffering).12
185
13. The quotation is from Elizabeth Dauphinee, ‘The Politics of the Body
in Pain,’ forthcoming in a monograph issue of Security Dialogue 10, no. 2
(2007), ‘The Visual Culture of Security,’ eds. David Campbell and Michael
J. Shapiro, 7.
14. The issue is expressed variously. For Reinhardt it is an unease about aestheti-
cizing suffering; for Stomberg it is the morality of the exploitation of sentiment;
for Duganne it is the problem of distinguishing artistic from ethical questions in
photojournalism; for Edwards it is the problem of truth versus the desiring con-
sumption of beauty; and for Bal it is the (potential) opposition between empathy,
sympathy, or identity and disinterested aesthetics.
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Shapiro: Slow Looking
15. The quotations are from one of Ranciere’s most concise treatments of the
politics of aesthetics: ‘The Politics of Aesthetics’ on the web at: http://theater.kein.
org/node/99, obtained 5 May 2007. For a more extended treatment, see Jacques
Ranciere, The Politics of Aesthetics, trans. Gabriel Rockhill (New York: Continuum,
2004).
16. See Immanuel Kant, The Critique of Judgment, trans. J.H. Bernard (Amherst,
NY: Prometheus Books, 2000), 120–5.
17. Ibid., 132–45.
18. In his analytic of the sublime, Kant becomes less optimistic about the sub-
ject’s achievement of a ‘subjective necessity.’ I treat the nuances of the difference
between the two analytics for Kant’s project of finding a basis for a universal
common sense in Michael J. Shapiro, ‘The Sublime Today: Re-Partitioning the
Global Sensible,’ Millennium 34, no. 3 (2006): 657–81. I am indebted to Rudolph
Gasche’s discussion of the connection between Kant’s reflections on his ana-
lytics of the beautiful and the sublime and moral sensibility. See his The Idea
of Form: Rethinking Kant’s Aesthetics (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press,
2002), 155–78.
187
Empathic Vision
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Shapiro: Slow Looking
is the case nevertheless that people’s sympathy is partial, for ‘the qualities
of the mind are selfishness and limited generosity.’22 Accordingly, the
primary social problem for Hume is not one of maintaining a contractual
order, which raises the issue of how to translate egotism into sociality,
but of how to stretch the passions, how ‘to pass from “limited sympathy”
to an “extended generosity”.’23 Significantly for purposes here, Hume
recognized that extending sympathy across national boundaries is even
more problematic: ‘We sympathize more with persons contiguous to us,
than with persons remote from us. … With our countrymen, than with
strangers … ’24 Of course our world differs from Hume’s because of the
reach of contemporary media. There has been ‘a steady intensification of
interconnection and intercommunication between peoples over the last
several centuries.’25 As a result, contiguity is less a matter of geographic
distance than of access to the dissemination of images and discourses.
Nevertheless, ‘extended generosity’ remains an issue for which Ben-
nett supplies a compelling set of conceptualizations. She cites with
approval Kaja Silverman’s concept of ‘heteropathic identification,’ which
she reads as ‘a form of encounter predicated on an openness to a mode of
existence or experience beyond what is known by the self.’ Her focus, like
that in the Beautiful Suffering exhibit and text, is on images connected with
events that have been affectually remote for most viewers. Her analy-
sis, aimed primarily at illuminating both the experience of trauma and
the exercise of traumatic memory, is based on three case studies – the
contrasting images of South Africa’s reconciliation process, Australia’s
‘stolen generation,’ and New York’s 9/11 catastrophe. Many readers are
therefore confronted with unfamiliar images and juxtapositions.
As is the case with Beautiful Suffering, Bennett’s investigation began as
an exhibition (in Ulster Belfast). The book, a philosophical investigation
of ‘Affect, Trauma and Contemporary Art’ (the book’s subtitle), aims to
show how ‘art makes a particular contribution to thought, and to politics
specifically: how certain conjunctions of affective and critical operations
might constitute the basis for something we can call empathic vision.’
Although Bennett illustrates her perspective in numerous historical
venues, the philosophical contribution she makes is more important
22. David Hume, A Treatise of Human Nature, 2nd edition (Oxford: Oxford Uni-
versity Press, 1978), 494. I should note that Bennett distinguishes empathy from
sympathy, conceiving the former as attuned to affective memory and the latter as
more of an intellectual attitude. Here I am using them interchangeably and retain-
ing the dimension of affective embodiment for both.
23. The quoted formulation is Gilles Deleuze’s interpretation of Hume’s social
problematic: Gilles Deleuze, Pure Immanence, trans. Anne Bowman (New York:
Zone Books, 2005), 46.
24. Hume, A Treatise of Human Nature, 581.
25. The quotation is from Abe Mark Nornes, Cinema Babel: Translating Global
Cinema (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2008), 5.
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the points of view of both the political leadership of the FLN (Front
de Libération Nationale – National Liberation Front) and the Algerian
people but also from the points of view of the French settler community
and the French military, which ultimately suppresses the armed strug-
gle. Rather than dwell on the film’s obvious political content, I want to
point to how the film’s political impetus is conveyed through its form
and to note the special conditions of its contemporary consumption. With
respect to the latter, the availability of the film in its new DVD version
makes possible the events of slow looking that thematize all the texts
under consideration. The recent history of film viewing has radically
changed. Rather than what characterized film viewing throughout most
of the 20th century (a single trip to the movie house), thanks to new view-
ing technologies – the video cassette recorder, digital editing capacities
on computers, etc. – control over film viewing is in individual hands, and
multiple repetitions of scenes are possible for both individuals and for
audiences assembled for purposes of instruction. As Victor Burgin puts
it, whereas ‘the experience of a film was once localized in time and space,
in the finite unreeling of a narrative in a particular theater on a particular
day,’ film can now be continually revisited and repartitioned to summon
a variety of ways to make it mean.30
Certainly Algiers is a political film, but Pontecorvo endeavors to rep-
resent faithfully the experiences of the encounter on both sides of the
struggle. As he notes in a long interview (in a DVD that accompanies
the remastered film), he was not creating a black and white ideologi-
cal film but rather seeking to get inside the minds of both the Algerian
resistance and the French attempt to hold onto their colonial possession.
Nevertheless, Algiers, which is filmed in an Italian neo-realist style, using
non-actors (with only one exception) in a vernacular setting and in a Ros-
sellini-inspired newsreel style – in black and white with documentary-
type editing – is politically inflected. It offers close-up looks at Algerian
insurgents, while the French colonialists are seen, with few exceptions, as
remote and unsympathetic. Given the cuts and juxtapositions that mark
the film’s statements-through-editing, what is shown is a people seek-
ing to control their political destiny in the midst of a self-indulgent and
privileged settler community. The crowded and segregated Casbah, sur-
rounded by the wide boulevards characteristic of French urbanism, sup-
ply the physical side of the colonial mise en scène, while a bio-political mise
en scène is created with a montage of shots that juxtapose the surveilled
and impoverished Algerian inhabitants, compressed in crowded quar-
ters, with the leisurely life of bourgeois French settlers, relaxing in bars
and cafes and entertaining in large, well-appointed estates.
While the alternation between close-up and distant shots and the mise
en scène convey much of the film’s political impetus, the working of the
soundtrack provides much of the film’s political sense. Pontecorvo notes
30. Victor Burgin, The Remembered Film (London: Reaktion Books, 2004).
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Shapiro: Slow Looking
(in the second DVD with interviews) that he was aiming at creating a
counterpoint between the sound images and visual images. And cru-
cially, he adds that often the sound image trumps the visual image. Tell-
ingly, Pontecorvo’s figures his main protagonist musically. He describes
the Algerian people as a whole in his film as a ‘chorus.’ Ennio Morricone’s
soundtrack, which contrasts French martial music with a percussive
representation of the emotions of the Algerian people (a musical idiom
close to an Algerian baba saleem), more than any other aspect of the film,
delivers the affective register of the political struggle. At one point, the
Algerian women produce a collective chant, ‘an eerie wall of sound that
creates a strangely menacing form of passive resistance.’31
From an academic point of view, Algiers is a historical film with a
strong realist dimension. Among other things, Saadi Yacef – a leader of
the FLN and now a member of the Algerian Parliament – collaborates
in the production of the film and plays himself (under a different name,
El-Hadi Jaffar). Moreover, the historical aspects of the film are under-
scored in a third accompanying DVD, which contains interviews with
both FLN leaders, some of whom are now parliamentarians and public
officials, and the French military officers who directed the assault on the
Casbah and the subsequent suppression of the insurrection in the coun-
tryside. However, there are other points of view that are shaping the film’s
ongoing reception as contemporary rather than merely historical. In 2003
it was reported in The New York Times that there was a screening of the
film for a group of officers and civilian ‘experts’ employed by the Penta-
gon. The flier used to invite the viewers read, ‘How to win a battle against
terrorism and the war of ideas.’32 Of special interest to those viewers was
the effectiveness of the French ‘interrogation’ techniques (the euphemism
used by the commanding Lieutenant Colonel for torture).
While for those who would side with struggles against colonial and
neo-colonial hegemony, the film is received as a chronicle of a people seek-
ing to control its own political destiny (as one writer notes, ‘Pontecorvo
has penetrated our Western self-absorption and let in the harsh light of
reality’), for those seeking to suppress a contemporary insurgency, it is
a manual for effective interrogation techniques. In contrast with viewers
who are sympathetic to the Algerian and subsequent struggles for inde-
pendence, the Pentagon’s viewers were encouraged to watch the film to
explore ‘the advantages and costs of resorting to torture and intimidation
in seeking human intelligence about enemy plans.’33 What they could
witness are tortures that include electric shock, near drowning, upside
193
down hanging, and flesh burned with blow torches. Could this provide
lessons for ‘operation Iraqi freedom?’ Certainly the film testifies to how
the information obtained through torture led to the capture and killing of
key insurgent leaders. But what else might the Pentagon’s viewers have
seen if they were able to place the scenes in the context of the anti-colonial
struggle that the film foregrounds – a situation of curtailed freedom in
which (in Jean Paul Sartre’s words during the actual rebellion) ‘the riches
of the one are built on the poverty of the other?’34
Without dwelling on the merits of the different points of view or modes
of reception, I want to note some aspects of the ways in which film form
confronts the partialities of perception. No thinker was more attuned to
the partialities involved in perception than Henri Bergson, who saw the
body as a centre of perception. However, crucially, the Bergsonian body
is a centre of indetermination in that its perceptions are always partial.
To perceive is to subtract in order to come up with a sense of the world,
selected from all possible senses.35 Although Bergson failed to recognize
the ways in which cinema overcomes some of the partialities of percep-
tion, Gilles Deleuze, influenced by Bergsonian philosophy (among oth-
ers), developed a philosophy of film that registers how cinema thinks in
a way that restores what perception evacuates. He insists that ‘cinema
does not have natural subjective perception as its model … because the
mobility of its centres and the variability of its framings always lead it
to restore vast acentered and deframed zones.’36 Thus for example, quite
apart from the individual dramas in which the fates of various charac-
ters in Algiers are determined, is what is provided in Pontecorvo’s mise
en scène. The framing of the action in a colonially divided city, provided
through zooming and panning shots of the cityscape, yields possibilities
for perception that exceed the self-understandings of the film’s charac-
ters. Clearly, as I have noted, Algiers shows that the use of ‘interroga-
tion’ (torture) was instrumental in the French para’s decimation of the
FLN leadership and, accordingly, the French military victory. However,
whatever may be one’s perspective on the ethics of resorting to torture
to curtail a violent insurgency, the film provides a series of cuts, juxtapo-
sitions, and depth of focus spatial shots that reveal a more general and
historically institutionalized form of suffering.
Ben Highmore summarizes this aspect of the film well:
While the Algerian people are the collective protagonists of the film (figured
most insistently in the various crowd scenes), it is the physical mise en scene
34. Quoted in Sheila Johnson, ‘The Battle of Algiers and Its Lessons,’ Com-
monDreams.org News Center on the web at: http://www.commondreams.org/
views03/0907-07.htm, obtained 2 November 2006.
35. See for example, Henri Bergson, Matter and Memory (New York: Zone Books,
1990).
36. Gilles Deleuze, Cinema 1: The Movement Image, trans. High Tomlinson and
Barbara Habberjam (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1986), 64.
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of the film, the city of Algiers, that articulates and supplies the rhythmic
orchestration of the film. Continually moving between the Casbah (the
Algerian enclave of the city) and the European quarters, the film highlights
a colonial city that is a physical, social and architectural embodiment of
French-Algerian colonialism.37
Ultimately, while from a narrative point of view Pontecorvo’s Algiers
is about the suppression of an insurgency, its moving images, taken as
a whole, think well beyond the historical narrative they re-enact. Such
cinema, in Deleuze’s terms, ‘does not simply present images, it surrounds
them with a world,’ in this case a world shaped by colonial encounter.38
That world is now available for slow and careful inspection given its
realization as a DVD, accompanied by additional commentary from those
who operated on both sides of the independence struggle.
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