Zeitschriftenartikel zum Thema „Hane, Joachim“

The article aims to defend Karl Löwith’s secularization thesis from the criticism made by Hans Blumenberg. Löwith’s thesis claims that modern philosophy of history is a secularized Christian eschatology. Blumenberg accuses Löwith’s thesis of substantialism. Following Sjoerd Griffioen, the article shows that this criticism fails. The article presents Blumenberg’s arguments that the idea of progress cannot be derived from eschatology. These arguments are refuted by the analysis of the work of Joachim of Fiore and providing a distinction between two kinds of progress. The article is written from the perspective of intellectual history, detaching from the dispute over the judgement of modernity.

Berlin. Die Witterung entspreche nicht mehr derjenigen, die er in seinen Anfangsjahren als Landwirt erlebt habe, sagte Verbandspräsident Joachim Rukwied in dieser Woche in Berlin. Der Klimawandel erschwere Planung und Sortenwahl.

Der Paradigmenwechsel in der Beurteilung medizinischer Behandlungsergebnisse veranlasste Handchirurg Joachim Ganser und sein ergotherapeutisches Team zum Umdenken hinsichtlich Frakturbehandlung der Hand. Viele Mittelhand- und Fingerfrakturen lassen sich mit der richtigen Schienenversorgung konservativ behandeln und bedürfen gar keiner Operation. Der Artikel stellt einige davon exemplarisch vor.

Vorspann Dass es eine der Grundanstrengungen von Hitlers Leben gewesen sei, die eigene Person zu verhüllen wie zu verklären, schrieb schon Joachim Fest. Kaum eine Person der Weltgeschichte habe sich so konsequent stilisiert und im Persönlichen unauffindbar gemacht wie er. Wie aber verlief dieser Prozess, wann begann er? Welche Aspekte seiner Biografie wurden von Hitler in den Vordergrund geschoben, welche abgeschwächt und welche ganz verschwiegen? Und welche Rolle spielte schließlich Hitlers Umgebung bei der Ausbildung von Topoi, die seit 1933 zum Allgemeingut einer ganzen Gesellschaft werden sollten?

Abstract The texts in student song collections of the 17th century deal on the one hand with pleasures of student lives and on the other hand with common spiritual themes; many songs are intended for ensemble performance (e.g. the songs by E. Widmann). The practices in compiling manuscript collections (Johann Heckius, Christian Clodius, etc.) show how repertoires mix and adaptations and translations are created; the Clodius manuscript satirises learned topoi and the presentation of spiritual collections in its preface. Topoi in the texts and some examples of hymnbooks explicitly intended for students (Joachim Feller etc.) are discussed. Finally, in Michael Wiedemann’s Poetische Gefangenschafften, a literarisation of the different facets of student song practices can be observed.

Der Beitrag gibt eine Passage aus einem Brief Christoph Ludwig von Seckendorff-Aberdars wieder, der 1727 bei den Feierlichkeiten zu Ehren des Geburtstags Kurfürst Friedrich Augusts I. von Sachsen in Leipzig anwesend war und seine Eindrücke auch von der damit verbundenen Aufführung der Kantate Entfernet euch, ihr heitern Sterne BWV Anh. 9 aus der Hand Johann Sebastian Bachs schildert. Erwähnte Artikel: Hans-Joachim Schulze: "Entfernet euch, ihr heitern Sterne", BWV Anh. 9. Notizen zum Textdruck und zum Textdichter. BJ 1985, S. 166-168 Tatjana Schabalina: "Texte zur Music" in Sankt Petersburg. Neue Quellen zur Leipziger Musikgeschichte sowie zur Kompositions- und Aufführungstätigkeit Johann Sebastian Bachs. BJ 2008, S. 33-98

The subject of this study is comparisons extracted from Joachim Lelewel’s Polish‑language émigré epistolary prose addressed to acquaintances and friends. A formal and semantic characterisation of the comparisons has been carried out, and their textual extensiveness has been identified and compared with comparisons occurring in the historiographer’s scientific subidiolect. On the basis of the formal analysis, it was established: 1) the type of comparatives in terms of their degree of fixation, 2) the manner of linking between comparandum and comparatum, 3) the array of the two members, and 4) the degree of extensionality. The semantics of the comparatives, on the other hand, made it possible to approximate the specifics of the historian’s colloquial thinking.

Der Artikel stellt zwei in den Musikalienbeständen der Stadtkirche St. Johannis aufgefundene Manuskripte vor. Zum einen handelt es sich um ein Kompositionsautograf C. P. E. Bachs (Ich bin vergnügt in meinem Stande, Kantate CPEBachWV F 30), zum anderen um eine Abschrift einer nicht genau identifizierbaren Missa (Kyrie und Gloria) in e-moll von der Hand J. S. Bachs. Neben der Beschreibung der Quellen widmet sich der Artikel ihrer Überlieferung bis zum Verbleib in Mügeln. Besondere Aufmerksamkeit widerfährt der Komposition C. P. E. Bachs, die als früheste Quelle zu dessen kompositorischen Schaffen (ca. 1732-34) eingehend gewürdigt wird. Erwähnte Artikel: Bernhard Friedrich Richter: Stadtpfeifer und Alumnen der Thomasschule in Leipzig zu Bachs Zeit. BJ 1907, S. 32-78 Alfred Dürr: Zur Echtheit einiger Bach zugeschriebener Kantaten. BJ 1951/52, S. 30-46 Conrad Freyse: Die Schulhefte Wilhelm Friedemann Bachs. BJ 1951/52, S. 103-119 Hans-Joachim Schulze: Vier unbekannte Quittungen J. S. Bachs und ein Briefauszug Jacob von Stählins. BJ 1973, S. 88-90 Klaus Häfner: Der Picander-Jahrgang. BJ 1975, S. 70-113 William H. Scheide: Bach und der Picander-Jahrgang - Eine Erwiderung. BJ 1980, S. 47-51 Andreas Glöckner: Neuerkenntnisse zu Johann Sebastian Bachs Aufführungskalender zwischen 1729 und 1735. BJ 1981, S. 43-76 William H. Scheide: Eindeutigkeit und Mehrdeutigkeit in Picanders Kantatenjahrgangs-Vorbemerkung und im Werkverzeichnis des Nekrologs auf Johann Sebastian Bach. BJ 1983, S. 109-113 Hans-Joachim Schulze: Rezension zu: Ortrun Landmann: Die Telemann-Quellen der Sächsischen Landesbibliothek [...] Dresden 1983. BJ 1985, S. 185-187 Hans-Joachim Schulze: Rezension zu: Klaus Häfner: Aspekte des Parodieverfahrens bei Johann Sebastian Bach. Laaber 1987. BJ 1990, S. 92-94 Ulrich Leisinger, Peter Wollny: "Altes Zeug von mir". Carl Philipp Emanuel Bachs kompositorisches Schaffen vor 1740. BJ 1993, S. 127-204 Peter Wollny: Zur Überlieferung der Instrumentalwerke Johann Sebastian Bachs [...] BJ 1996, S. 7-22 Andreas Glöckner: Alumnen und Externe in den Kantoreien der Thomasschule zur Zeit Bachs. BJ 2006, S. 9-36 Daniel R. Melamed: Hat Johann Sebastian Bach die Lukas-Passion BWV 246 aufgeführt? BJ 2006, S. 161-170 Tatjana Schabalina: "Texte zur Music" in Sankt Petersburg. Neue Quellen zur Leipziger Musikgeschichte sowie zur Kompositions- und Aufführungstätigkeit Johann Sebastian Bachs. BJ 2008, S. 33-98 Marc-Roderich Pfau: Ein unbekanntes Leipziger Kantatentextheft aus dem Jahr 1735 - Neues zum Thema Bach und Stölzel. BJ 2008, S. 99-122 Andreas Glöckner: Johann Sebastian Bach und die Universität Leipzig - Neue Quellen (Teil I). BJ 2008, S. 159-202 Rashid-S. Pegah: Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach und Kronprinz Friedrich in Preußen: Dier erste Begegnung? BJ 2008, S. 328-332 Tatjana Schabalina: "Texte zur Music" in Sankt Petersburg. BJ 2009, S. 11-48 Andreas Glöckner: Ein weiterer Kantatenjahrgang Gottfried Heinrich Stölzels in Bachs Aufführungsrepertoire? BJ 2009, S. 95-116 Hans-Joachim Schulze: Johann Sebastian Bachs Himmelfahrts-Oratorium und Picanders Geburtstagskantate für "Herrn J. W. C. D.". BJ 2009, S. 191-199

Cataclysms of nature and apocalyptic beliefs have always gone hand in hand. While Christians have had no monopoly on such beliefs, expectations of this kind have been an important part of the Western religious tradition both in Christian Europe and in the ‘millennial New World’, the latter a time and place of heightened eschatological anticipation. One of the ‘best-sellers’ among Christians in medieval Europe wasThe Fifteen Signs before Doomsday, a work that detailed the cataclysms which would occur before the end. But in another region of the world – a new world replete with frequent seismic and volcanic activity – it became even more so a type of prophecy that would captivate the religious imagination of colonizers and missionaries.

Various hand books on the Old Testament are reviewed by Karl-Johan Illman.Kirke og synagoge. Holdninger i den danske kirke til jødedom og jøder i middelalderen, reformationstiden og den lutherske ortodoksi (Martin Schwarz Lausten, 1992) is reviewed by Per Ingesman.Den judiska mystiken (Gersholm Scholem, 1992) is reviewed by Johan Åberg.Judiska kvinnogestalter (Hilde Rohlén-Wohlgemuth, 1992) is reviewed by Roger Syrén.Martin Buber, dialogfilosof och sionist (Joachim Israel, 1992) is reviewed by Karl-Johan Illman.Du skal fortelle det til dine barn. Det mosaiske trossamfund i Oslo 1892-1992 (Micha Reisel, Berit Demborg, Peter Beck, Betsy Hein, 1992) is reviewed by Oskar Skarsaune.Jødene i Norge. Historien om en minoritet (Mendelsohn, 1992) is reviewed by Dagfinn Rian.Utvägen (Georg Klein, 1992) is reviewed by Karl-Johan Illman.Das Judentum (Hans Küng, 1991) is reviewed by Ulrika Lindblad.

Unter Bezugnahme auf den voranstehenden Artikel von Andrew Talle "'Die kleine Wirthschafft Rechnung' von Carl August Harthung" wird die Bedeutung Harthungs für den Musikalienhandel seienr Zeit beleuchtet. Zunächst wird Harthung auf Grundlage der von Talle ausgewerteten Quelle als Schreiber zweier thematischer Verzeichnisse von Werken Bachs identifiziert. Daran knüpfen weiterführende Überlegungen zur Verbreitung bestimmter Bachscher Werke im 18. Jh. an. Weiterhin wird aufgrund der Notenschrift Harthungs ein bisher anonymer Bach-Kopist mit ihm Gleichgesetzt. Ein Anhang bietet einen Katalog aller Bach-Abschriften von der Hand Harthungs. Erwähnte Artikel: Hans Löffler: Die Schüler Joh. Seb. Bach. BJ 1953, S. 5-28 Klaus Hofmann: Forkel und die Köthener Trauermusik Johann Sebastian Bach. BJ 1983, S. 115-117 Hans-Joachim Schulze: Bach-Überlieferung in Hamburg: Der Quellenbesitz von Christian Friedrich Gottlieb Schwencke (1767-1822). BJ 1993, S. 69-79 Christoph Wolff: Nachwort zu Christoph Henzel: "...ein Großes Orgelkonzert von dem alten Sebastian Bach". Zu einem Konzertprogramm Johann Wilhelm Häßlers. BJ 1993, S. 231-237 (S. 236-237) Peter Wollny: Johann Christoph Friedrich Bach und die Teilung des väterlichen Erbes. BJ 2001, S. 55-70 Michael Maul, Peter Wollny: Quellenkundliches zu Bach-Aufführungen in Köthen, Ronneburg und Leipzig zwischen 1720 und 1760. BJ 2003, S. 97-142 Andrew Talle: Nürnberg, Darmstadt, Köthen - Neuerkenntnisse zur Bach-Überlieferung in der ersten Hälfte des 18. Jahrhunderts. BJ 2003, S. 143-172 Hans-Joachim Schulze: Eine verschollene Choralpartita Johann Sebastian Bachs? BJ 2003, S. 229-232 Pieter Dirksen: Zur Echtheit der Johann Christoph Bach (1642-1703) zugeschriebenen Clavierwerke. BJ 2010, S. 217-248 Vergleiche auch: Andrew Talle: "Die kleine Wirthschafft Rechnung" von Carl August Harthung. BJ 2011, S. 51-80

“We have to believe that new images are still possible”. This remark by Norwegian filmmaker Joachim Trier during a recent event in Oslo entitled ‘The Sublime Image’ speaks to the centrality in his work of images, often of trauma, that aspire to the condition of photographic stills or paintings. A hand against a window, cheerleaders tumbling against an azure sky, an infant trapped under a lake’s icy surface: these can certainly be read as sublime images insofar as we might read the sublime as an affect—a sense of the ineffable or the shock of the new. However, for Trier, cinema is an art of memory and here too, this article argues, his films stage an encounter with the temporal sublime and the undecidability of memory. Offering readings of Trier’s four feature films to date which center on their refraction of memory through crystal-images, the article emphasizes the affective encounter with the films as having its own temporality.

Der Artikel versammelt vier Fallstudien mit dem Ziel, anhand von neuem Quellenmaterial einige offene Fragen stilkritischer, werkgeschichtlicher und biografischer Natur zu Johann Sebastian Bach einer Klärung entgegen zu führen. Die erste Studie widmet sich einem Beleg für Bachs frühe Beschäftigung mit der Gattung der italienischen Solokantate, den ein in der Staatsbibliothek zu Berlin verwahrtes Einzelblatt mit dem Beginn einer Komposition Antonio Biffis liefert, das von Bachs Hand stammt. Ebenfalls in der Berliner Staatsbibliothek fand sich der originale Textdruck zur Aufführung von BWV 194 bei der Orgelweihe in Störmthal, der im nächsten Abschnitt vorgestellt wird. Die besprochenen Quellen werden in Faksimiles wiedergegeben. Der dritte Teil widmet sich einer verschollenen Trauungskantate, die die Urbilder von BWV 195/1 und /5 enthalten haben soll. Über dieses Werk gibt ein Textdruck aus dem Schlossmuseum Sangerhausen Auskunft. Die letzte Studie behandelt die im Stadtarchiv Eilenburg vorhandene Akte zur Wiederbesetzung der Konrektorenstelle an der dortigen Stadtschule 1749, zu der die Superintendentur Delitzsch eine Parallelakte verwahrt und die eigenhändige Zeugnisse Bachs enthält. Erwähnte Artikel: Bernhard Friedrich Richter: Stadtpfeifer und Alumnen der Thomasschule in Leipzig zu Bachs Zeit. BJ 1907, S. 32-78 Hans Löffler: Die Schüler Joh. Seb. Bachs. BJ 1953, S. 5-28 Hans-Joachim Schulze: Frühe Schriftzeugnisse der beiden jüngsten Bach-Söhne. BJ 1963/64, S. 61-69 Christoph Wolff: Johann Adam Reinken und Johann Sebastian Bach: Zum Kontext des Bachschen Frühwerks. BJ 1985, S. 99-118 Yoshitake Kobayashi: Zur Chronologie der Spätwerke Johann Sebastian Bachs. Kompositions- und Aufführungstätigkeit von 1736 bis 1750. BJ 1988, S. 7-72 Jean-Claude Zehnder: Georg Böhm und Johann Sebastian Bach. Zur Chronologie der Bachschen Stilentwicklung. BJ 1988, S. 73-110 Peter Wollny: Rezension zu: Jaenecke, Joachim (Bearb.): Staatsbibliothek zu Berlin - Preußischer Kulturbesitz. Kataloge der Musikabteilung [...] BJ 1995, S. 215-219 Vergleiche auch: Peter Wollny: Alte Bach-Funde. BJ 1998, S. 137-148 Peter Wollny: Nachbemerkung zu "Neue Bach-Funde" [...] BJ 1998, S. 167-170

La idea de lo camp, desarrollada por la filósofa norteamericana Susan Sontag en la segunda mitad del siglo XX, ha sido tradicionalmente asociada al ámbito de lo queer, la estética kitsch o lo extravagante. Sin embargo, el autor alemán Joachim Lottmann hace servir este gusto por la afectación y la exageración para construir una cruda denuncia ligada a la actualidad gracias a la aplicación de las diferentes premisas que recogió la autora estadounidense en su ensayo Notes on Camp: glorificación del personaje, ironía, ingenuidad, la capacidad de provocar atracción y repulsión al mismo tiempo, así como desarrollar un discurso capaz de ser serio frente a lo frívolo o atacar la seriedad desde la frivolidad. La combinación de estos rasgos consigue hacer de la narrativa de Lottmann una completa y compleja denuncia de la sociedad actual, convirtiendo a las novelas Der Geldkomplex (2009) y Endlich Kokain (2014) en sus dos máximos exponentes: la creciente aporofobia en la Alemania del siglo XXI, la capitalización del mundo del arte y el dictado de las apariencias suponen los temas transversales de dos novelas en las que el camp despliega sus medios para conseguir enarbolar una denuncia plausible y comprometida con su contexto.

Abstract: I could count with the fingers of my hand how many non-German medievalists there are who know of Ulrich Fuetrer and, moreover, who might have read his version of the traditional Yvain/Iwein story, originally composed by Chrétien de Troyes and rendered into Middle High German by Hartmann von Aue. Fuetrert, professionally a painter/artist at the Munich court of Duke Albrecht IV, had turned into a prolific author drawing from a wide range of medieval romances which he recreated during the 1480s and 1490s in his massive Buch der Abenteuer. Granted, a number of German medievalists have engaged with his texts, but Fuetrer proves to be really an unknown entity outside of the German-speaking world of scholarship. But his Iban, directly based on Hartmann’s version, constitutes an important witness of the reception process of this romance far into the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. Heinz Thoelen and Bernd Bastert published a good critical edition of this romance in 1997, and medievalists such as Hans-Joachim Behr (1986), Thomas Bein (1998), Wolfgang Harms (1974), Hans-Georg Maak (1967), Rudolf Voß (1994), and Horst Wenzel (1986) have contributed to the better understanding of Fuetrer’s works.

RESUMO: A relação entre corpo e alma ou entre corpo, alma e espírito é um pro­blema antigo da antropologia, inclusive na teologia cristã. A questão continua em pauta hoje diante de novas descobertas e teorias nas neurociências. Praticamente migrou para a discussão da relação entre cérebro e mente. Hoje é consenso bastante amplo que quem comanda o corpo é o cérebro. Se aceitarmos isto, quem está no comando do cérebro? Sou eu, em primeira pessoa, minha alma, minha mente? Ou seria “ele”, em terceira pessoa, nosso próprio cérebro me determinando? E como ficaria na segunda pessoa – o ser humano como estando em relação a Deus a quem o chama de “tu”? Querendo superar preconceitos contra uma neurociên­cia determinista e uma teologia despreocupada com a ciência – e estas próprias posições, onde são defendidas –, o presente artigo procura tratar da condição humana em sua liberdade sempre precária e tolhida. Recorrendo à abordagem neurobiológica e psiquiátrica de Joachim Bauer, argumenta pela importância das relações do ser humano com o outro, com Deus e com o mundo, numa forma de ressonância (Hartmut Rosa). ABSTRACT: The relationship between body and soul or between body, soul and spirit is an ancient problem of anthropology, and also of Christian theology. In view of present day discoveries and new neuroscientific theories, the issue poses itself afresh. It practically migrated to the discussion of the relationship between brain and mind. Today, there is ample consensus that it is the brain that is in charge of the body. If we accept that, then who is in charge of the brain? Is it me, in the first person, my soul, my mind? Or is it “him”, in the third person, our own brain that determines me? And how about the second person – the human being in its relationship with God whom it calls “you”? Striving to overcome prejudices against a deterministic neuroscience, on the one hand, and a theology indifferent to science – and, indeed, such positions, wherever they are held – the present article seeks to deal with the human condition in its freedom, always precarious and restrained. Referring to neurobiological and psychiatric insights from Joachim Bauer, it argues for the importance of the relationship of the human being with the other, with God and with the world, in a form of resonance (Hartmut Rosa).

AbstractThe portrait of Symon Marten Dircksz. (1504-1574) preserved in Athens (fig. I, notes 1, 2), was identified on the strength of his coat of arms. The sitter was a staunch Catholic and held high offices in the Amsterdam city government. His portrait, dated 1565, is the earliest specimen of a type that was produced during the last decades of the sixteenth century by the sons of Pieter Aertsen (1507/ 08-1574), Pieter (1540/41-1603) and Aert Pietersz. (1550-1612) (figs. 2, 3, 4, 8, 9). In view of the documented relations between Pieter Aertsen and various prominent Amsterdam citizens and also because of clearly Mannerist features, the portrait may be attributed to the father. It holds a place of its own among Amsterdam portraits of the period and does not relate to any traditional portrait type either in Amsterdam or in Antwerp, where Aertsen had worked until C. 1555. In spite of similarities in the sitters' postures and the ornate background, the portraits attributable to Pieter Pietersz. and Aert Pictersz. (figs. 2, 3, 4, 8, 9) show the style of a younger generation; pictorial space is rendered in a credible way and the figures also appear more three-dimensonal. A late example is the portrait of Hendrick Buyck, signed by Aert Pietersz. and dated 1605 (fig. 8, note 28). The sitter was a successful merchant and joined the Reformed Church, as did most of his brothers and sisters. His portrait contains a wealth of details which may in part point to the traditional idea of transience but also convey information of a more personal nature, as do the texts on the pages of a open cash-book. At his death in 1613 Hendrick Buyck's estate included a small number of paintings, mostly portraits, and one of The Four Evangelists by Pieter Aertsen ('Lange Pier'). This picture may be tentatively identified with one now at Aachen (fig. 10, note 46). A copy of it bears the date 1613 and was in all likelihood made for some member of the Buyck family when the original was inheritcd by the Protestant Hendrick's illegitimate son. The original bears the date 1559 and may well have already been in the possession of Hendrick's grandfather, Cornelis Buyck, who was Pieter Aertsen's neighbour until his death in 1562. POSTSCRIPT HUYBRECHT BEUCKELAER : AN ANTWERP SOLUTION FOR AN AMSTERDAM AND AN ENGLISH PROBLEM The long-standing debate as to whether or not the Monogrammist HB or Hb (figs. 11 and 12) could be identical with Joachim Bcuckclacr, was convincingly settled by Detlev Kreidl (note 27). This author not only analyzed the artist's distinct style but also showed that it was connected with that of Agnolo Bronzino, in whose studio the Monogrammist probably worked. Infrared reflectography subsequently revealed that the Kitchen-maid with a boy and a girl in Brussels (fig. 12), usually thought to be by Pieter Aertsen but attributed by Kreidl to the Monogrammist, bears the signature in full of one H[uybrecht] Beuckelaer, probably a brother of Joachim (note 27). Documents provide scant information on the artist's life. There is evidence of extensive travelling in 1567/68; a letter of 1574 was sent from Bordeaux. His earliest works date from 1563 but only in 1579 did he become a master in the Antwerp guild. This surprisingly late date may be accounted for by the assumption that until then the artist merely (or mainly) assisted other painters. Van Mander relates that Joachim Beuckelaer assisted Antonis Mor for davwages by painting the sitters' attire in their portraits. This piece of information would however seem rather to apply to Huybrecht, who (contrary to Joachim) paid much attention to the rendering of his figures' clothes. An example of his collaboration with Mor may well be the portrait of a nobleman, signed bv Mor and dated 1561, in the Mauritshuis, The Hague (fig. 15, note 64). A number of features in this picture recur in the Brussels Prodigal Son, which bears Huybrecht Beuckelaer's monogram (fig. 11). Huybrecht appears also to have been a portrait painter in his own right. The Style of his Prodigal Son may be recognized in a portrait of Thecla Occo, a member of the powerful Catholic family of that name in Amsterdam (fig. 13, notes 11 and 52). This picture suggests that Huybrecht was familiar with Mor's 1559 portrait of the wife of Jean le Cocq, now in Kassel, where a similar dog (a symbol of conjugal fidelity) lies in its mistress's arm. However, the main inspiration for the style of the Occo portrait comes from portraits Bronzino painted in the mid-1550s. This is borne out by the build of the tall figure with a slender hand dangling from an arm-rest as well as by the narrow shape of the head, enhanced by the strong shadow zone along the right side of the face (cf. fig. 14). From this (and from a similar case to be discussed below) it may be inferred that Huvbrecht visited Bronzino's workshop carly in his career, before working in Mor's studio around 1560. After 1584 there is no further mention of Huybrecht Beuckelaer in Antwerp documents. There is however evidence that he settled in England, probably after the taking of Antwerp by the Spaniards in 1585. A first clue to this effect is supplied by a portrait of Francis Cottington (1578/79-1652), later first Lord Cottington, that was sold at auction in 1922 (fig. 16, note 65). The picture is in many respects very similar to the Prodigal Son though it must, judging by the sitter's age and costume, be dated to the years around 1600, possibly to 1605 when Cottington was appointed secretary to the English ambassador in Spain. The artist's style had remained remarkably constant over the years, and so had his use of Bronzino prototypes. The latter's portrait of the youthful Lodovico Capponi (New York, Frick Collection) must have been in Huybrccht's mind when he designed young Cottington's portrait (fig. 17). There must have been quite a few portraits of distinguished English patrons by Huybrecht Beuckelaer besides the one of Cottington (which is not documented). This is supported by inventories from the years 1583-1590 which mention works by one Hubbert or Hubbard, long considered to have been a Netherlandish artist named Hubert (or Huybrecht - the artist actually used both forms of his name). The works described (notes 72, 73, 75 -77) were mostly portraits. But the earliest mention of his name occurs in connection with A Butcher and a Maid Buying Meat in the Earl of Leicester's collection in 1583. This was obviously a work in the Aertsen-Beuckelaer tradition, such as one might expect from Huybrecht Beuckelaer.

Background:Metacarpal bone mineral density as measured by digital x-ray radiogrammetry (DXR-BMD) and finger joint space width quantified by computer-aided joint space analysis presented computer based and observer independent parameters for the evaluation of radiographic damage of the hand skeleton.Objectives:The aim of this study was to quantify clinical parameter which potential influence periarticular mineralisation of the metacarpal bones and finger joint space width in Psoriatic Arthritis (PsA)-patients.Methods:The study includes 201 PsA-patients. All patients received a radiograph of the hand. Bone mineral density was measured by DXR (Pronosco X-Posure System™, Version 2.0; Sectra; Sweden) and finger joint space width of all finger joints were evaluated by computer-aided joint space analysis (CAJSA, Radiogrammetry Kit, Version 1.3.6; Sectra; Sweden). The Z-Score was used as an age- and gender-independent parameter for the quantification finger joint space narrowing.Results:Regarding gender, the DXR-BMD was significant reduced with -0.028 g/cm2in women. An equivalent significant result was evaluated for finger joint space width (Z-ScoreMCP -1.07, Z-ScorePIP -0.81 and Z-ScoreDIP -0.76). The DXR-BMD was significantly lowert (-0.011 g/cm2) between the disease duration < 2 years (0.545±0.076 g/cm2) and >10 years (0.509±0.070 g/cm2). The Z-Score showed no significant change regarding the disease duration. Inflammatory activity as measured by c-reactive protein presented no impact on DXR-BMD and the Z-Score of all finger joints. Additionally, the use of corticosteroids was associated with a reduced DXR-BMD (-0.037 g/cm2) and an absence of finger joint space narrowing.Conclusion:The study highlights that the demineralisation of the metacarpal bones was associated with female gender, disease duration and the use of corticosteroids. Whereas, the prior mentioned parameters had no influence on finger joint space width. Consequently, periarticular demineralisation and finger joint space narrowing presented two different and independent radiological signs in PsA.References:N/ADisclosure of Interests:Alexander Pfeil Grant/research support from: This study Investigator Initiated Study “Automatic assessment of joint space narrowing in rheumatoid arthritis based on the Post-hoc analysis” (number: IIS-2016-110818) is a part of the of the Investigator Initiated Study “The quantification of inflammatory related periarticular bone loss in certolizumab pegol treated patients with rheumatoid arthritis” (number: IIS-2014-101458) which is supported by UCB Pharma GmbH, Monheim, Germany., Marcus Heinz: None declared, Diane Renz: None declared, Joachim Böttcher: None declared, Gunter Wolf: None declared, Peter Oelzner: None declared

The area under the ROC curve (AUC) is a widely used performance measure in machine learning. Increasingly, however, in several applications, ranging from ranking to biometric screening to medicine, performance is measured not in terms of the full area under the ROC curve but in terms of the partial area under the ROC curve between two false-positive rates. In this letter, we develop support vector algorithms for directly optimizing the partial AUC between any two false-positive rates. Our methods are based on minimizing a suitable proxy or surrogate objective for the partial AUC error. In the case of the full AUC, one can readily construct and optimize convex surrogates by expressing the performance measure as a summation of pairwise terms. The partial AUC, on the other hand, does not admit such a simple decomposable structure, making it more challenging to design and optimize (tight) convex surrogates for this measure. Our approach builds on the structural SVM framework of Joachims ( 2005 ) to design convex surrogates for partial AUC and solves the resulting optimization problem using a cutting plane solver. Unlike the full AUC, where the combinatorial optimization needed in each iteration of the cutting plane solver can be decomposed and solved efficiently, the corresponding problem for the partial AUC is harder to decompose. One of our main contributions is a polynomial time algorithm for solving the combinatorial optimization problem associated with partial AUC. We also develop an approach for optimizing a tighter nonconvex hinge loss–based surrogate for the partial AUC using difference-of-convex programming. Our experiments on a variety of real-world and benchmark tasks confirm the efficacy of the proposed methods.

Der Artikel stellt einen Bestand von Musikalien vor, der im Zusammenhang mit der Vorbereitung der ersten Bach-Gesamtausgabe zusammengetragen wurde und als Depositum des Verlags Breitkopf & Härtel im Sächsischen Staatsarchiv Leipzig verwahrt wird. Es handelt sich um ein umfangreiches Konvolut von Handschriften vom frühen 18. bis ins erste Drittel des 19. Jahrhunderts, von denen einigen Werken J. S. Bachs hauptsächlich Instrumentalmusik der Bach-Söhne Wilhelm Friedemann, Carl Philipp Emanuel und Johann Christian das Interesse weckt. Diese bleiben im Artikel jedoch unberücksichtigt, der sich ganz auf die Kompositionen J. S. Bachs konzentriert, Datierungen versucht, Schreiber bestimmt und Provenienzen klärt. Eine vollständige Auflistung der Werke gibt der Anhang des Artikels wieder. Erwähnte Artikel: Karl Tittel: Welche unter J. S. Bachs Namen geführten Orgelwerke sind Johann Tobias bzw. Johann Ludwig Krebs zuzuschreiben? Ein Versuch zur Lösung von Autorschaftsproblemen. BJ 1966, S. 102-137 Wolfgang Wiemer: Ein Bach-Doppelfund: Verschollene Gerber-Abschrift (BWV 914 und 996) und unbekannte Choralsammlung Christian Friedrich Penzels. BJ 1973, S.29-73 Ernest May: Eine neue Quelle für J. S. Bachs einzeln überlieferte Orgelchoräle. BJ 1974, S. 98-103 Yoshitake Kobayashi: Neuerkenntnisse zu einigen Bach-Quellen an Hand schriftkundlicher Untersuchungen. BJ 1978, S. 43-60 William H. Scheide: Eindeutigkeit und Mehrdeutigkeit in Picanders Kantatenjahrgangs-Vorbemerkung und im Werkverzeichnis des Nekrologs auf Johann Sebastian Bach. BJ 1983, S. 109-113 Hans-Joachim Schulze: Studenten als Bachs Helfer bei der Leipziger Kirchenmusik. BJ 1984, S. 45-52 Klaus Hofmann: Bachs Doppelchor "Nun ist das Heil und die Kraft" (BWV 50). Neue Überlegungen zur Werkgeschichte: BJ 1994, S. 59-74 Klaus Hofmann: Die Motette "Lobet den Herrn, alle Heiden" (BWV 230). Alte und neue Probleme. BJ 2000, S. 35-50 Joshua Rifkin: Siegesjubel und Satzfehler. Zum Problem von "Nun ist das Heil und die Kraft" (BWV 50). BJ 2000, S. 67-86 William H. Scheide: Nochmals BWV 50 "Nun ist das Heil und die Kraft". BJ 2001, S. 117-130 Michael Maul: Johann Adolph Scheibes Bach-Kritik. Hintergründe und Schauplätze einer musikalischen Kontroverse. BJ 2010, S. 153-198

Background:The reduction of finger joint space width in patients with rheumatoid arthritis (RA) is associated with joint destruction. Anti-TNF treatment with certolizumab pegol is an effective therapy in RA-patients. The computer-assisted joint space analysis is a new computer based technique to measure joint space width on hand radiographs.Objectives:The aim of this post-hoc analysis of the data set used in the RAPID 1 trial was to quantify finger joint space width of RA patients treated with Certolizumab pegol in Association to DAS28-remission.Methods:The post-hoc analysis includes 297 patients. These patients were treated with certolizumab pegol 200 mg (every two weeks) plus methotrexate and certolizumab pegol 400 mg (every two weeks) plus methotrexate. All patients underwent x-rays of the hand at baseline and week 52 as well as the quantification of finger joint space width of the metacarpal-phalangeal articulations (MCP) using the computer-assisted joint space analysis (Version 1.3.6; Sectra; Sweden). The joint space distance is expressed as mean joint space width of the MCP joints I to V (JSD-MCP total). Remission was defined with a Disease Activity Score 28 < 2.6.Results:The group with DAS28-remission (DAS28 < 2.6) presented a significant joint space increase with 3.3 % for JSD-MCP total from 0.152 ± 0.033 cm (baseline) to 0.157 ± 0.033 cm (week 52) treated with certolizumab pegol 200 mg as well as with 3.9 % for JSD-MCP total from 0.152 ± 0.031 cm (baseline) to 0.158 ± 0.032 cm (week 52). For the patients without DAS28-remission (DAS28 > 2.6) under the treatment with certolizumab pegol 400 mg a non-significant change of JSD-MCP total from 0.145 ± 0.034 cm (baseline) to 0.144 ± 0.036 cm (week 52) was observed. A similar result was evaluated for the certolizumab pegol 200 mg group (JSD-MCP total: 0.146 ± 0.037 cm [baseline] to 0.143 ± 0.037 cm [week 52]).Conclusion:The study highlights that patients treated with certolizumab pegol plus methotrexat and a DAS-Remission showed an increase of joint space width of the metacarpal-phalangeal articulations which is potentially associated with reparative effects of the cartilage under the anti-TNF treatment with certolizumab pegol.References:N/ADisclosure of Interests:Alexander Pfeil Grant/research support from: This study Investigator Initiated Study “Automatic assessment of joint space narrowing in rheumatoid arthritis based on the Post-hoc analysis” (number: IIS-2016-110818) is a part of the of the Investigator Initiated Study “The quantification of inflammatory related periarticular bone loss in certolizumab pegol treated patients with rheumatoid arthritis” (number: IIS-2014-101458) which is supported by UCB Pharma GmbH, Monheim, Germany., Anica Nussbaum: None declared, Diane Renz: None declared, Ansgar Malich: None declared, Joachim Böttcher: None declared, Peter Oelzner: None declared, Gunter Wolf: None declared

Background:Hand osteoarthritis (OA) is a very common condition with cartilage degradation and frequently erosive bone changes. It may be very painful and can greatly affect everyday activities. Common analgesics and NSAIDs are used for symptomatic relief but are often poorly tolerated or contraindicated especially in elderly patients. There is no effective and proven disease modifying therapy available. Previous publications and anecdotal reports suggest hydroxychloroquine (HCQ) as a possible treatment, and some physicians use HCQ off-label for the treatment of OAObjectives:To investigate the efficacy and safety of HCQ in patients with inflammatoryanderosive hand OA in a randomized, double-blind, placebo controlled, multi-centre, investigator-initiated trialMethods:Patients with inflammatory and erosive hand OA, according to the ACR criteria, with radiographically proven erosive disease were randomized 1:1 to HCQ 200-400mg per day or matching placebo (PBO) for 52 weeks. Both groups received standard therapy (stable NSAIDs). The primary endpoint was AUSCAN for pain and hand disability at week 52 (W52). A secondary endpoint was radiographic progression from baseline (BL) to W52. A multiple endpoint test and analysis of covariance was used to compare changes between groups. All analyses were conducted on an intention-to-treat baseResults:Of 156 patients 3 were excluded and 75 were randomized to HCQ and 78 to PBO. Mean age was 52.4 (SD 8.1) in the HCQ and 50.2 (SD 6.6) years in the PBO group. 68 (90.7%) of the patients were female in the HCQ and 60 (76.9%) in the PBO group. Disease duration was 9.5 (SD 7.5) in HCQ and 10.8 (SD 8.8) years in PBO group. CRP and ESR were normal in both groups. BL pain (AUSCAN) was 31.1 (SD 8.2) and 30.7 (SD 8.9), BL function (AUSCAN) was 58.5 (SD 15.5) in HCQ and 57.8 (SD 17.1) in PBO patients. Table 1 shows clinical and functional parameters at W52. Only morning stiffness was significantly reduced in the HCQ group (p=0.001). Changes in radiographic scores did not differ significantly (p>0.05) between treatment groups. There were 7 SAE in the HCQ and 15 in the PBO group. No new safety issues were detectedTable 1.Results of the covariance analysis (ANCOVA)-adjusted mean values and 95%-confidence intervals for primary and secondary outcomes at W52, as well as a p-value for group comparisonOutcomeAdj. Mean HCQ95%-CI HCQAdj. Mean PBO95%-CI PBOP-value HCQ x PBOAUSCAN Function48.14353.351.346.6560.36AUSCAN Pain26.723.929.426.523.929.10.92tender joint6.44.87.97.15.48.70.49swollen joint21.32.72.11.42.70.93ESR (mm/h)8.26.99.611.710.113.5<0.01HAQ0.90.810.80.70.90.46Phys. Global3.22.83.63.533.90.39Pat. Global4.53.95.15.24.65.80.14SF36 mental48.846.65150.848.752.80.22SF36 physical39.83841.639.938.241.60.95Morning Stiffness (min)30.22436.316.310.322.30.001Modif. Kallmann Score53.652.155.152.851.454.20.24The associated BL value or, if available, a mean value from BL and screening was included in the ANCOVA model as a covariate.Conclusion:The OATREAT trial examined the clinical and radiological efficacy and safety of HCQ as a treatment option for inflammatory and erosive OA over 52 weeks. OATREAT is the first large randomized PBO controlled trial focusing on erosive hand OA. HCQ was no more effective than PBO for changes in pain, function and radiographic scores in the 52-week period. Overall safety findings were consistent with the known profile of HCQ. Thus, our data failed to show that HCQ is effective in patients with inflammatory, erosive hand OADisclosure of Interests:Claudia Kedor Consultant of: Advisory Board for Novartis Pharma GmbH, Jacqueline Detert: None declared, Rolf Rau: None declared, Siegfried Wassenberg: None declared, Joachim Listing: None declared, Pascal Klaus Employee of: Pfizer Pharma GmbH, Tanja Braun: None declared, Walter Hermann: None declared, Stefan Weiner: None declared, Martin Bohl-Bühler: None declared, Frank Buttgereit Grant/research support from: Amgen, BMS, Celgene, Generic Assays, GSK, Hexal, Horizon, Lilly, medac, Mundipharma, Novartis, Pfizer, Roche, and Sanofi., Gerd Rüdiger Burmester Consultant of: AbbVie Inc, Eli Lilly, Gilead, Janssen, Merck, Roche, Pfizer, and UCB Pharma, Speakers bureau: AbbVie Inc, Eli Lilly, Gilead, Janssen, Merck, Roche, Pfizer, and UCB Pharma

In the past decade the eighteenth-century London music publisher John Walsh has been subject to a new evaluation with regard to his pirated editions and deliberate misattributions, especially of the music of George Frideric Handel. That Walsh's attributions were anything but trustworthy had already been recognized in the eighteenth century: a surviving copy (London, British Library, BM g.74.d) of his first edition of the Sonates pour un traversiere un violon ou hautbois con basso continuo composées par G. F. Handel (c.1730), which, as Donald Burrows and Terence Best have shown, was provided with a title-page designed to simulate that of Jeanne Roger, bears the manuscript inscription ‘NB This is not Mr. Handel's’ in an eighteenth-century hand at the beginning of the tenth and twelfth sonatas, precisely those that Walsh removed in his second edition of this collection (c. 1731–2), advertised on the title-page as being ‘more Corect [sic] than the former Edition’. In the second edition Walsh substituted two equally questionable works in their place, each of which bears the handwritten inscription ‘Not Mr. Handel's Solo’ in a copy in the British Library (BM g.74.h). Two of the sonatas attributed to Handel in Walsh's Six Solos, Four for a German Flute and a Bass and Two for a Violin with a Thorough Bass … Composed by Mr Handel, Sigr Geminiani, Sigr Somis, Sigr Brivio (1730; in A minor and B minor) are also possibly spurious, while three of the four movements of the remaining sonata attributed to Handel in this collection (in E minor) are movements arranged from his other instrumental works. And in 1734 Johann Joachim Quantz, to whom Walsh devoted four volumes of solo sonatas (1730–44), complained of the publication of spurious and corrupted works:There has been printed in London and in Amsterdam under the name of the [present] author, but without his knowledge, 12 sonatas for the transverse flute and bass divided into two books. I am obliged to advertise to the public that only the first, second, fourth, fifth and sixth [sonatas] from the first book, and the first three from the second book, are his [Quantz's] compositions; and that he furthermore wrote them years ago, and besides they have, due to the negligence of the copyist or the printer, gross errors including the omission of entire bars, and that he does not sanction the printing of a collection that has no relationship with the present publication that he sets before the public.

AbstractRemarks in various art-historical studies of recent date prompt the question of how the Vices ('sinnekens') so popular in sixteenth-century drama can be identified in the art of that period. Unlike the 'Iniquity', (the buffoon-like figure who also occurs outside drama), the Vices assume a variety of guises, judging by the texts of the plays. Their appearance can reflect their names, their function in the overall metaphor of the (allegorical!) play in which they figure or the author's satirical intentions, or they may also accentuate the demonic aspect dictated by the play's subject-matter. On the other hand the simple reference to a personage from a play as a 'Vice' is apparently sufficiently clear. Perhaps this is connected with a local tradition of dressing a 'Vice' in a particular costume owned by the dramatic company performing the piece. A Vice's only permanent attribute is a hammer (deriving from Thor's thunderbolt), but it is not sure how traditional this attribute really is. Some light can be shed on all these questions by extant depictions of Vices, three groups of which may be distinguished: (1) illustrations of plays (figs. 3-11), (2) depictions on rebus blazons alluding to the word 'sinnen' (senses) (figs. 12-16) and (3) engravings of the allegorical procession into Haarlem of companies competing in the interlocal contest (1606). Some of the companies had characters from the play to be performed at the competition (including the Vices) march in the procession (figs. 17-19). From these sources it emerges that the Vices (usually two) were either very similar in appearance or as different as chalk and cheese, except for an attribute (a stick or a hammer). Otherwise they differ from the other characters in a play in bizarre items of costume or their vivacious attitudes. With the aid of these data and the information contained in the texts of plays as to the interpretation of the Vices' roles, a number of figures in various prints and paintings can be identified as Vices (figs. 20-24, 26). As for the studies referred to at the beginning of this summary, the conclusion is that Emmens' interpretation of the kitchen-maids in various paintings by Joachim de Beuckelaer as Vices (fig. 1) must be rejected. The boys attired as Iniquity in Maarten van Hccmskerck's series of engravings The tale of Bel and the dragon (figs. 2, 27, 28) are perhaps inspired by the Vices (Gibson), but only to a certain extent. Their function in the illustrated story is not characteristic of the Vices, nor is their costume (Saunders). Apart from a direct or indirect theatrical link, it seems that the Vices do not, or rarely, occur in prints and paintings. This could however be a delusion, for the Vices have scarcely been sought outside this context.

Background:The treatment of patients with axial spondyloarthritis (axSpA) and psoriatic arthritis (PsA) has been revolutionised by the introduction of biologic DMARDs targeting TNF, IL17, and IL23 inhibitors (i). In Germany, about 30-50% of axSpA and PsA patients receive treatment with bDMARDs. Although many patients benefit from these drugs, in some patients effectiveness of the standard dose may be insufficient and higher doses are used.Objectives:To describe dosing of TNFi and non-TNFi bDMARDs over a 2 year period in a real world cohort of patients with axSpA and PsA managed by rheumatologists.Methods:RABBIT-SpA is a prospective longitudinal cohort study including axSpA and PsA patients enrolled at the start of a new conventional treatment (including NSAID) or b/tsDMARD treatment. Description of dosing of TNFi (adalimumab bio-original (bo), adalimumab bio-similar (bs), etanercept bo, etanercept bs, golimumab, certolizumab) in comparison to nonTNFi-bDMARDs (secukinumab, ustekinumab, ixekizumab, guselkumab) in axSpA and PsA. Standard dosing was defined according to the current labels for axSpA and PsA.Results:1628 patients (axSpA: n=903, PsA: n=725) were included in this analysis. At inclusion mean age was 44 years in axSpA and 51 years in PsA. 44% of patients with axSpA and 58% of those with PsA were female. The mean disease duration of axSpA was 7.6 years, of PsA 6.4 years.Standard doses of TNFi were used during a 2 year period in > 90% of patients with axSpA and PsA (Figure 1). In contrast, standard doses of non-TNFi-bDMARDs were only used in 70-80% of patients. The percentage of documented higher doses in patients with axSpA ranged from 20-30% at different time points. In PsA, this percentage increased from 27% at baseline to 44% at 2 years. On the other hand, TNFi were used in lower doses than the label in up to 9% and 7 % of patients with axSpA and PsA, respectively, after 2 years.Figure 1.Percentages of patients with axSpA or PsA who received less than, equal to, or more than the approved doses of bDMARDs at baseline and at 5 follow-up visits.Conclusion:While TNFi are used in licensed doses in most patients, non-TNFi-bDMARDs were often used in higher doses, which corresponds to higher doses approved in other indications like psoriasis. The effectiveness of this treatment strategy in axSpA and PsA needs to be analysed further.Acknowledgements:RABBIT-SpA is supported by a joint, unconditional grant from AbbVie, Amgen, Biogen, Hexal, Janssen-Cilag, Lilly, MSD, Novartis, Pfizer, UCB, and Viatris.We thank all participating patients and rheumatologists.Disclosure of Interests:Anne Regierer Grant/research support from: AbbVie, Amgen, Biogen, Hexal, Janssen-Cilag, Lilly, MSD, Novartis, Pfizer, UCB, and Viatris., Anja Weiß Grant/research support from: AbbVie, Amgen, Biogen, Hexal, Janssen-Cilag, Lilly, MSD, Novartis, Pfizer, UCB, and Viatris., Denis Poddubnyy: None declared, Herbert Kellner: None declared, Frank Behrens: None declared, Georg Schett: None declared, Juergen Braun: None declared, Joachim Sieper: None declared, Anja Strangfeld Grant/research support from: AbbVie, Amgen, Biogen, Hexal, Janssen-Cilag, Lilly, MSD, Novartis, Pfizer, UCB, and Viatris

Introduction. In scientific literature dedicated to J. Brahms, much attention has been paid to a song genre. The researches note that J. Brahms’s songs can be regarded as a continuation of genre-specific features of Austro-German Lied, which retains the purity of the generic semantics in the composer’s works, without involving typically operatic means of vocal intoning, or approaching the so-called “poem with music”. J. Brahms’s songs do not allow the singer to demonstrate the full range of his/her voice, to reveal his/her artistic temperament, to show the technical skill. Absorption in a special emotional aura of J. Brahms’s songs requires a variety of timbre-intonational resources of a singer, his/her ability not to lose the sense of the whole while detailing the melodious overture. Of particular interest is the issue of music and words correlation in J. Brahms’s songs. As a rule, the composer is considered to be the immediate successor of F. Schubert rather than R. Schuman in his orientation to musical embodiment of a generalized poetic image. At the same time, this issue requires more detailed study, since the composer was very sensitive to the poetic text, in particular, from the point of view of coordinating the intonation-phonetic features of German language and vocal intonation. Theoretical Background. Recent research and publications analysis. Opus 49 by J. Brahms seems to be in the shadow of musicological thought and performing practice. It should be noted that a very famous opus part is “Lullaby”, which is mentioned in the monographs of K. Tsareva (1986), M. Druskin (1959), and K. Geiringer (1965). In the literature being considered the abovementioned opus is not completely covered, thus determining the relevance of our article. There are references to individual songs in different sources, but incidentally, in the context of different issues. Objective is to study J. Brahms’s opus 49 in the aspect of the interaction of poetic word and music, verbal and musical intoning. Methods: 1) historical method, allowing to comprehend the selected material in the perspective of the development of Austro-German song of the XIX century; 2) intonational method, which involves the study of vocal melody in terms of phonetic-tonic links; 3) genre method, caused by the features of chamber vocal lyrics; 4) stylistic method, corresponding to a specific opus consideration in the general context of the composer’s creative work. Results and Discussion. The composer did not have any tendency to the songs cyclization, however, the vocal miniatures, assembled in one opus, appear to be lyrical notes, self-contained but united by poetic motives and nature of the author’s expression. Many researchers see a cyclic organization of his particular vocal opuses. For example, I. Mykhailov (1987: 19) proves the existence of cyclic principles at different compositional levels in composer’s songs: separate “melodious pairs”, a number of songs with the texts by one poet inside the opus, a whole vocal opus with the texts by different authors. According to I. Mikhailov, the cyclic connection of songs is emphasized by several compositional techniques: thematic one, i.e. the unity of the musical material; the continuity of songs alternation, which is sometimes manifested in the absence of a piano introduction of the next song. In opus 49, the author chooses different poetic sources – poems by P. Heyse, L. H&#246;lty, A. F. Schack, and J. Wenzig. The composer refers to one of the samples of the famous collection by Joachim von Arnim and Clemens Brentano “The Magic Horn of a Boy”. Given the anthological principle of poetic texts selection, no transparent storyline in opus 49, such as “A Beautiful Miller” by F. Schubert or “Poet’s Love” by R. Schumann, there is no reason to regard it as a cycle. However, the opus’ songs are arranged in a certain semantic sequence. Owing to the fact that three songs (“Sunday Morning”, “To a Violet”, “Longing for the Sweetheart”) are united by homogeneous poetic motifs, one can regard them as forming a microcycle within the whole. The second micro-cycle of the opus is represented by No. 4 and No. 5 (“Lullaby” and “Twilight”). In interpreting the poetic text, J. Brahms adheres to the principle of emotional and musical generality, once detailing the text, if at all. Here, he succeeds F. Schubert. However, he uses the technique of keywords, distinguishing them in two ways: rhythmically (with syncope) and through intrinsic chants; the composer also uses different types of intoning. Following the tradition of the 19th-century Austro-German song, the composer regards the genre as an alliance of two full members: the vocalist and the pianist, with the part being an instrumental generalization. The intonational image of the whole in vocal music arises at the crossing of two texts – poetic and musical. German has intonation difficulties owing to a large number of consonants. Problems, encountered by the singers in intoning German language, are compensated by the consonants and vowels, which are most favorable for correct sound formation, allowing to achieve the required quality. The soft consonants and vowels should be regarded as the ideal vocal sound, that is, a model for other phonemes in musical-poetic text. While creating vocal melodies of Opus 49 songs, J. Brahms cares the phonetics of a German text in the singing to be comfortable for the performer. Conclusions. J. Brahms uses such principles and techniques of literary original musical embodiment as preservation of the holistic image, created by the author of the poems, on the one hand, and its detailing on the other. In the second case, the composer resorts to all means of musical expression: motive-thematic, texture-register, rhythmic, harmonious, texture ones. The prospects of the research lie in studying the interaction of verbal and musical intonation in other vocal works of J. Brahms, as well as in chamber-vocal music of late romantics.

In this article titled “The Time of the End of Times in the Apocalyptical Literature” the author presents the study about the biblical vision of the final time which concern two domains christological and ecclesiological. This patristic study pertains to several subjects set forth in section and sub-section titles, such as: Christ as the Eternal Day of God, the Parousia as the Second Coming of Christ, the Day of Judgement, the Great Tribulation or Persecution (Mt 24: 21; Mk 13: 19; por. Dan 12: 1), “the great distress” (Rev 7: 14), the time of Pagans persisting for forty two months, the fall of Jerusalem (Mt 24: 1-3; Mk 13: 1-4; Lk 21: 5-7. 20), “abomination of desolation” (Dan 9: 27; 11: 3; 12: 11), Gog and Magog from the vision of Ezekiel (Ezek 38-39) and Apokalypse (Rev 20: 8), a great apostasy will be a prelude to the Second Coming of Christ, “a hundred and forty-four thou­sand who had his [Lamb’s] name and his Father’s name written on their foreheads [and] who had been ransomed from the earth” (Rev 14: 1. 3), Antichrist (1Jn 2: 18. 22; 4: 2-3; 2Jn 7) and his time three and a half years (Rev 11: 9. 11) or forty-two months (Rev 11: 2; 13: 5). The Antichrist refers to the ruling spirit of error, the enemy of the Gospel, and the opponent of Christ who will precede His Second Coming and the end of the world. He is the incarnation of wickedness, pride, and hostility toward Christ’s redemptive work. This section delves into the number 666 (Rev 13: 18; 15: 2), false prophets (2Pet 2: 1), false teachers (2Pet 2: 1). In the biblical apocalyptic literature we can find a few visions of the cosmic catastrophes and cataclysms such as “earthquakes” (Mt 24: 7; Mk 13: 8), “famines” (Mt 24: 7; Mk 13: 8). In this study, appeared the theory of Millenarianism (from Latin mille) or chiliasm (from Greek c…lioi) based on a literal interpretation of Apocalypse (Rev 20: 2-7) which interpretation teaches that the visible personal rule of Christ on earth will last for a duration of a thousand years before the end of the world. Two themes are given special study in this article. First is the distinction of the interpretation of time. Second, is the interpretation of the prophetic announce­ments and eschatological visions from the Bible, and the potential influence of the ancient apocalyptic stories and writings in the redaction of the Bible. As to the first theme, the application of Greek distinction of concept of time as duration (crÒnoj) from time as fulfilment and accomplishment (kairÒj) to the Hebrew conception of time is problematic. Substantial biblical concept of time is an event which pertains to time, otherwise as time having specific event, more then a time extending indefinite time. In the theological perspective, perception of time is therefore an action of God. From the very beginning to the end of Biblical History, time is the means of God’s deeds of salvation. Thence for the biblical author, the historic-redemptive (salvation) concept of the world appears before his metaphysical conception. This concept is also readily apparent in the description of the seven days from the ancient Semitic cosmogony well-known from the Book of Genesis. This topic contains an important christological and messianic aspect. The his­tory of the world become conditioned and dependant, defined and designated by the existence of the Word of God, Creation and Incarnation by the birth of the Son of God, fulfilment of time by the second coming of the Son of Man siting at the right hand of God (Mk 16: 19; Heb 12: 2), the end of time by the judgement of God. One can speak of christological concept of time and also of christological concept of the world. The discussion of the second theme revolves around the interpretation of the Fathers of the Church on apocalyptic writings. This analysis of the meaning of the apocalyptical symbols is presented according to the interpretation of the Fathers of the Church, starting with all commentary of the Book of Revelation written from the beginning to the 12th Century. Outstanding among Greek and Latin writ­ers from the ancient time through the Middle Ages are: Papias of Hierapolis, Jus­tin Martyr, Hippolytus, Irenaeus of Lyon, Origen, Tertullien, Lactance, Eusebius of Caesarea, Didymus of Alexandria, Victorinus of Pettau, Gregory of Nyssa, Je­rome, Augustine of Hippo, Quodvultdeus, Primasius, Caesarius of Arles, Gregory the Great, Isidore of Seville, Raban Maur, Bede the Venerable, Ambroise Autpert, Beatus of Liébana, Rupert of Deutz, Joachim of Fiore, Richard of Saint-Victor. It is well known that, between the years 200 B.C. and 150 A.D., prophetic writings appeared in certain Jewish or Christian circles. These prophetic writings were called Apocalypses. After a careful analysis, this article hypothesizes that the Bible is influenced by this ancient apocalyptic literature. The Biblical Apocalyptic Literature was dependent upon formularies and ex­pressions used in the ancient Apocalyptic Literature. Some symbols or apocalyptic numbers were accepted from the ancient Literature, sometimes diminishing and sometimes enlarging their meaning. On the basis of formularies and symbols from Biblical Apocalyptic, the Fathers of the Church built their own historical-theolog­ical interpretation of eschatological events. In the Bible, both Old and New Testaments, there are prophetic announcements and eschatological visions. The New Testament is a repetition of those visions and those announcements made in the Old Testament. The Book of Revelation is the conclusion of those announcements and the accomplishment of those visions. An example of this use of the apocalyptical symbols in the theological and historical contexts by the Christian writers is found in the interpretation of the vi­sion of Gog and Magog. The vision of the Gog and Magog was usually interpreted in the historical context. They were identified with Goths, Barbaric people who invaded and conquered most of the Roman Empire in the 3rd, 4th, and 5th centuries. Yet this epic figure is reinterpreted with the turn of each new century. In the new historical context, the writers give a new interpretation, but the theology of these symbols remains the same.

AbstractIt is a recognized fact that the majority of the many drawings produced in the 16th and 17th centuries have been lost. It is quite likely that a great deal of these lost drawings were the work of aspiring artists, done for practice during their training. Written sources, so-called 'Tekenboeken' and pictures of studios give us some idea of what such drawing exercises looked like. Series of eyes, noses, mouths, hands and feet, etc. served as preliminary exercices. Although these were recognized as very difficult assignments, their great advantage was that a single glance, even that of the young draughtsman himself, could establish whether the task had been done well, because 'mistakes are generally evident and can be seen and judged by everybody: for who is so dull and blind as not to notice whether someone has a deformed face, a twisted hand or a crooked foot?' (note 8). One duly wonders at the total absence of such drawings in Gerard Ter Borch senior's large collection of work by his sons Gerard junior, Harmen and Mozes. Apparently Ter Borch père was more selective than assumed by Alison Kettering in her introduction to the catalogue of the Ter Borch estate. Of the earliest drawings done by the young pupils in their first years, he seems to have concentrated on preserving drawings done from life and the young artists' own invention. As for drawings after prints, only copies of complete compositions were apparently worth saving. One could surmise that such practice drawings were executed on carriers which could be erased or re-used in some other way. The making of such carriers from box or palm wood and also from parchment is described in Cennino Cennini's 'Il Libro dell'Arte' (ca. 1400). The replaceable primer that was applied to such carriers consisted of ground white bone-ash mixed with saliva. According to Cennini, parchment 'tavolette' were also used by merchants to do their calculations on. The use of such parchment tablets is moreover confirmed by an early 16th-century recipe from Bavaria. The question arises as to whether erasable carriers were only used by beginners, as Cennini's text suggests, or by fully developed artists as well. This might provide a possible explanation for the total or virtually total absence of drawings in the oeuvres of some artists. Another question is how long this type of carrier remained in use. Research was sidetracked by the frequent occurrence of young artists drawing on blocklike boards or planks, notably on title-pages of 17th-century books of drawing models. In 16th-century iconography such boards appear to indicate the term 'usus' or 'practice'. They also refer to a Pliny text according to which drawing on boxwood boards was a fixed item in the education of well-born Greek children. The depiction of young draughtsmen with such drawing boards may therefore not represent actual studio practice but allude to the aspired high status of drawing and of the art of painting in general. The very nature of erasable carriers means that traces of them are rare. Those boards that have survived (Meder had published a number) are not acknowledged as such apart from the wax tablets intended for re-use in Classical Antiquity, and in the Middle Ages too. There are sporadic references in written sources. Karel van Mander, for instance, uses the term 'Tafelet' twice, the first time in connection with Albrecht Dürer who - significantly in this context is said to have portrayed Joachim Patinier on a slate (the ideal erasable carrier) 'or a tafelet'. Van Mander subsequently mentions a 'tafelet' in his biography of Goltzius, who was asked to do a portrait on a 'tafelet' in preparation for a print. The very strong likelihood that the term 'tafelet' was used to indicate a carrier suitable for re-use is endorsed by a recipe by Theodore de Mayerne (ca. 1630), who suggests two ways of making a 'tablet à papier' for writing on with a metal stylus: strong and well glued paper is spread with a paste of ground bone-ash, not mixed with saliva this time but with a weak gum solution. To prepare the tablet for re-use it could be cleaned with a wet brush. When the paper had suffered too much from this repeated treatment, it could be varnished, according to de Mayerne, after which it could be written on again with a pen, washed off again etc. Although de Mayerne recommends this 'tablet à papier' for practising writing, no distinction was made between carriers for writing and drawing (cf. Cennini above). We shall probably never know to what extent erasable carriers were used, but the foregoing remarks may shed a fresh light on a group of works of art, drawings with silver or other metal styluses on prepared parchment or paper. Instead of resorting to one of the highly specialized and expensive drawing methods which are often cited, for example in connection with Rembrandt's portrait of Saskia in Berlin with silver stylus on prepared parchment, such drawings may have been done on tablets which were not intended to be preserved. Goltzius' portraits with metal stylus as a rule were executed as drawings which served solely as the basis for a print. From a text in P. C. Hooft's Warenar (1616) we learn, that a 'tafelet' or 'taflet' was a booklet used as a scrap book and habitually carried in the pocket. A few of such booklets have survived. One is a booklet with fourteen prepared paper pages which belonged to Adriaen van der Wcrff. In it, writing with a silver stylus, he kept a record of the number of days he spent on his paintings. The first four pages of the book were prepared for re-use. The traces of earlier inscriptions can still be vaguely discerned under the new layer of primer. A second tafelet - originally containing twelve pages - was identified in the collection of the Rijksprentenkabinet (note 41). It was used around 1590 by a young painter who practised in it by copying fragments of prints.

Introduction: Curriculum integration is critical to medical education. It represents a constant challenge for teachers since there is no shared concept about what it means, what is to be included, and the dynamics of operationalization. Objectives: To promote and implement the integration of a human semiology curriculum module (medical clinic, pediatrics, diagnostic imaging, psychology and health informatics) through interactive methodologies; to evaluate the students perception of the module. Methods: Action research involved 76 teachers and 125 third-year medical students. Monthly meetings were held between the coordinators. Discussions focused on monitoring and following-up on implementation of interactive methodologies and reviewing integration of theory and practice. Also included were the implementation of a joint discussion of clinical cases, a holistic view of the patient and presenting problems. Collaboration and communication between teachers, joint classes, integrated evaluation of the process of learning and teaching in small groups. In addition, training workshops were held for the use of a Moodle platform by teachers for page construction of Curriculum Module. The evaluation of students' perceptions was performed through a voluntary and anonymous questionnaire with open questions (qualitative). All 125 students answered the questionnaire. A five-point Likert scale was used with a midpoint indicating intermediate or nullity, domain of discordance (values 1 and 2) and domain of cordance (4 and 5). The analysis of the data was made comparing their results with those obtained in the tests of the previous year. The Statistical Package for the Social Sciences (version 17.0, SPSS®, Chicago, IL, USA). Results: Data analysis showed that there was a positive impact after the integration between the subjects and the introduction of interactive methodologies in the course. Give the data for this statement here. There was a significant improvement in performance, both theoretical and practical, as measured by the scores obtained by the students, when compared to the students of the previous year (p <0.001). On the other hand, in open questions, students still mentioned heterogeneity among teachers and in the evaluation. They students also commented on, the need for a continuous effort to improve and maintain the integration and adjust their workload. Conclusion: The evaluation analysis supported the need to continue to implement teacher development, joint planning and the continuity of the articulation process. The integration of interactive methodologies was shown to improve student performance compared to the previous class in a Semiology Curricular Module.ResumoIntrodução: A integração do currículo é fundamental para a formação médica. Representa, todavia, um constante desafio para os professores envolvidos, visto que não há uniformidade sobre o conceito, sobre a necessidade de inclusão de atividades integradas, e mesmo sobre sua operacionalização. Objetivos: Promover a integração da unidade curricular (UC) de semiologia humana (clínica médica, pediatria, diagnóstico por imagem, psicologia e informática em saúde) através da implantação de metodologias interativas, e avaliar a percepção dos estudantes do módulo de semiologia humana, após a implementação destas metodologias. Métodos: Utilizou-se pesquisa-ação, envolvendo 76 professores e 125 estudantes da 3ª série do curso médico. Para a integração da UC foram realizadas: reuniões mensais entre os coordenadores para implementação e acompanhamento das metodologias interativas, que consistiram de integração da teoria com a prática, implantação de discussão conjunta de casos clínicos, visão holística do paciente e de seus problemas, colaboração e comunicação entre os professores, aulas conjuntas, avaliação integrada com o processo de aprendizagem e ensino em pequenos grupos. Além disso, foram realizadas oficinas de capacitação para uso da plataforma Moodle pelos professores e construção de página com as atividades da UC. A avaliação da percepção dos estudantes sobre a UC foi realizada através de questionário voluntário e anônimo e de questões abertas (qualitativa). Todos os estudantes responderam ao questionário. Foi utilizada a escala de Likert de cinco pontos com um ponto médio manifestando situação intermediária ou de nulidade, domínio de discordância (valores 1 e 2) e domínio de concordância (4 e 5). A análise do desempenho destes alunos da 3ª série do curso de medicina foi feita comparando-se os seus resultados com os obtidos nas provas do ano anterior. Na análise estatística foi utilizado o Statistical Package for the Social Sciences (versão 17.0, SPSS®, Chicago, IL, EUA). Resultados: A análise conjunta das categorias do questionário demonstrou que houve impacto positivo após a integração entre as disciplinas e a introdução de metodologias interativas no curso. Houve melhora significante do desempenho, tanto teórico quanto prático, avaliado pelas notas obtidas pelos alunos, quando comparado aos alunos do ano anterior (p<0,001). Por outro lado, nas questões abertas, os alunos ainda referiram heterogeneidade entre os professores e na avaliação, necessidade de um esforço contínuo para melhorar e manter a integração, bem como adequar a carga horária, considerada insuficiente. Conclusão: A análise da avaliação evidenciou a necessidade de implementar o desenvolvimento docente, o planejamento conjunto e a continuidade do processo de articulação. A utilização das metodologias interativas contribuiu para a integração da Unidade Curricular de semiologia.ResumenIntroducción: La integración del currículo es fundamental para la formación médica. Sin embargo, representa un constante desafío para los profesores involucrados, ya que no hay uniformidad sobre el concepto, sobre la necesidad de inclusión de actividades integradas, y incluso sobre su operacionalización. Objetivos: Promover la integración de la unidad curricular (UC) de semiología humana (clínica médica, pediatría, diagnóstico por imagen, psicología e informática en salud) a través de la implantación de metodologías interactivas, y evaluar la percepción de los estudiantes del módulo de semiología humana, después de la aplicación de estas metodologías. Métodos: Se utilizó investigación-acción, involucrando a 76 profesores y 125 estudiantes de la 3ª serie del curso médico. Para la integración de la UC se realizaron: reuniones mensuales entre los coordinadores para implementación y seguimiento de las metodologías interactivas, que consistieron en la integración de la teoría con la práctica, implantación de discusión conjunta de casos clínicos, visión holística del paciente y de sus problemas, colaboración y comunicación entre los profesores, clases conjuntas, evaluación integrada con el proceso de aprendizaje y enseñanza en pequeños grupos. Además se realizaron talleres de capacitación para uso de la plataforma Moodle por los profesores y construcción de página con las actividades de la UC. La evaluación de la percepción de los estudiantes sobre la UC se realizó a través de un cuestionario voluntario y anónimo y de cuestiones abiertas (cualitativa). Todos los estudiantes respondieron al cuestionario. Se utilizó la escala de Likert de cinco puntos con un punto medio manifestando situación intermedia o de nulidad, dominio de discordancia (valores 1 y 2) y dominio de concordancia (4 y 5). El análisis del desempeño de estos alumnos de la 3ª serie del curso de medicina se hizo comparando sus resultados con los obtenidos en las pruebas del año anterior. En el análisis estadístico se utilizó el Statistical Package for the Social Sciences (versión 17.0, SPSS®, Chicago, IL, EE.UU.). Resultados: El análisis conjunto de las categorías del cuestionario demostró que hubo impacto positivo tras la integración entre las disciplinas y la introducción de metodologías interactivas en el curso. Se observó una mejora significativa del rendimiento, tanto teórico como práctico, evaluado por las notas obtenidas por los alumnos, en comparación con los alumnos del año anterior (p <0,001). Por otro lado, en las cuestiones abiertas, los alumnos todavía refirieron heterogeneidad entre los profesores y en la evaluación, necesidad de un esfuerzo continuo para mejorar y mantener la integración, así como adecuar la carga horaria, considerada insuficiente. Conclusión: El análisis de la evaluación evidenció la necesidad de implementar el desarrollo docente, la planificación conjunta y la continuidad del proceso de articulación. La utilización de las metodologías interactivas contribuyó a la integración de la Unidad Curricular de semiología.Keywords: Semiology, Medical education, Student, Methodology.Palavras-chave: Semiologia, Educação médica, Estudante, Metodologia.Palabras clave: Semiología, Educación médica, Estudiante, Metodología.ReferencesALMEIDA, Maria José de. Gestão da escola médica: crítica e autocrítica. Rev Bras Educ Med, 32 (2):202-9, março, 2008.BATALDEN, Paul; DAVIDOFF, Frank. Teaching quality improvement: the devil is in the details. 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Sobre a pesquisa-ação na educação e as armadilhas do praticismo - Revista Brasileira de Educação, v. 11, n. 33, set./dez, 2006.MULLER, Jessica H.; JAIN, Sharad; LOESER, Helen; IRBY, David M. Lessons learned about integrating a medical school curriculum: perceptions of students, faculty and curriculum leaders. Med Educ, 42(8), p.778-85, agosto, 2008.PERERA, Jennifer; LEE, Nagarajah; WIN, Khin; PERERA, Joachim; WIJESURIYA, Lionel. Formative feedback to students: the mismatch between faculty perceptions and student expectations, Medical Teacher, 30 (4): 395-399, 2008.PRIDEAUX, David; ASH, Julie K. Integrated learning. In: DENT, John A.; HARDEN, Ronald M. A practical guide for medical teachers. 4. ed. London: Elsevier, p.183-189, 2013.PUCCINI, Rosana Fiorini; SAMPAIO, Lucia de Oliveira; BATISTA, Nildo Alves. A Formação médica na Unifesp – excelência e compromisso social. São Paulo: Editora Unifesp, 2008, 312p.STEINERT Yvonne; MANN, Karen; CENTENO, Angel; DOLMANS, Diana; SPENCER, John; GELULA, Mark; DAVID, Prideaux. A systematic review of faculty development initiatives designed to improve teaching effectiveness in medical education: BEME Guide No. 8. Med Teach, 28(6): 497-526, September, 2006.TINTO, Vincent. Stages of student departure. Reflections on the longitudinal character of student leaving. Journal of Higher Education, 59(4): 438-455, Jul-Aug, 1998. Conteúdo online disponível em: http://www.edu.plymouth.ac.uk/resined/actionresearch/arhome.htm, acesso em 2006. WATER-ADAMS. Action research in education - Conteúdo online disponível em: http://www.edu.plymouth.ac.uk/resined/actionresearch/arhome.htm, acesso em 2006.

AbstractIn forensic science, signatures are identified by means of comparative handwriting analysis - not to be confused with graphological examination. To the authors' knowledge, no systematic investigation has hitherto taken place as to the effectiveness of subjecting signatures on old master paintings to such comparative analysis. Even when judgment is passed on signatures in art-historical publications, it is seldom based on an investigation which could stand up to the critical standards of handwriting experts. Partly due to insufficient knowledge of the relevant criteria, signature assessment therefore tends to be influenced in both a positive and a negative sense by opinions about the painting. (I.b.) This article describes the results of examinations of Rembrandt signatures on paintings from the period 1632-1642, conducted by a team of two forensic handwriting experts headed by the controller of the experiment. The Rembrandt Research Project team supplied a total of 123 photographs of signatures, 88 of which were deemed suitable for evaluation, 73 of them belonged to the 'Rembrandt' type, and 15 to the 'RHL van Rijn' type. Only aftcr our examination wcrc we able to confirm, on the basis of Vol umcs 11 and 111 of the Corpus, which of these signatures occur on paintings accepted by the RRP team as authentic Rembrandts, and which on de-attributed paintings. The monograms discussed in Volume I of the Corpus proved to be unsuitable for our investigation, due to the insufficient number of characteristics they yield. (I.d. and I.e.) In the examination of handwriting, the characteristics of a series of incontestably genuine signatures arc compared with the characteristics encountered in a series of signatures whose identity is to be established. This procedure was unfeasible for the examination in question, for, regardless of whether the usual methods of comparison can be applied to signatures rendered with a brush, the question arises as to which of the signatures on a paining are indisputably authentic. Reconnaissance of the signature problem shows that the art historian is unable, for various reasons, to quarantee that a painting established without a shadow of doubt as a Rembrandt actually bears the master's own signature. (I.c.) We therefore opted for a different procedure, but not until exploratory experiments had led us to expect that the usual methods of comparing handwriting would be feasible. (III.a.) Entirely ignorant of art-historical assessments of the paintings in question and their signatures, the hand writing experts analysed the available material on the basis of characteristics used in the comparison of normal signatures and handwriting (11.a.) The team's experiment-controller liaised with the art historians and evaluated the results statistically. (I.d.) The exploratory and statistical character of our investigation was one of the reasons for dispensing with a systematic enumeration of all the individual signature assessments. Working in this fashion, we selected a group of i 'Rembrandt'type signatures from the available material, signatures which formed a homogeneous group because of their shared characteristics. We called them the reference signatures. The homogeneous character of the reference group reflects, in our opinion, the recognizable and reproducible characteristics of Rembrandt's signature. The reference signatures are therefore assumed to have been executed by Rembrandt himself. With the aid of the group of reference signatures, the other material was further evaluated. The outcome was a list in which the signatures are graded as to their probable authenticity. In forensic handwriting comparison, probability gradations stem from the statistical character of the comparison process. (II.b.) They permit nuances to be made in the assessment of a signature. The extent to which identification criteria are satisfied, the consequences of restorations and other doubtful elements which are hard to assess, especially in the case of negative judgment (V.b.), are reflected in the individual probability gradations. Figures 1, 2 and 3 show three signatures from the reference group, accompanied by a number of shared characteristics occurring in the reference group. (IV.a) Figures 4 and 5 show signatures which have been assigned a lower probability gradation; one (figure 4) graded authentic, the other (figure 5) as not. (IV.b.) Only the first four letters of the signature in figure 7 are regarded as authentic; it is one of the seven examined signatures containing only a 't'. (V.b.) This procedure skirts the problem of non-guaranteed comparative signatures. Statistical evaluation of the results can also provide an insight into the question of whether the usual techniques for examining handwriting can be successfully applied to signatures on paintings. If the assessments thus obtained prove to be reliable, they may generate further valuable art-historical information. The results of the examination of the 73 'Rembrandt'-type signa tures are summarized in a table in which the signature assessments are related to the qualifications of the paintings as recorded in Volumes 11 and 111 of the Corpus. This table does not give the probability gradations, which arc however for the sake of convenience simply grouped into 'authentic' and 'non-authentic'. (V.a. and Table I) The table contains the most pertinent statistical data. In order to test thc reliability of the handwriting experts' assessment statistically, we employed a ratio based on signatures occurring on non-authentic paintings. Reliability proved to be almost 90%. Unfortunately, authentic paintings arc not suitable subjects for this kind of test. Evaluation of the results leads us to conclude that, under conditions to be described in greater detail, handwriting examination techniques arc in fact applicable to the assessment of signatures on paintings. The procedure described here only yields results when a large number of signatures with suflicient information content are available. The 73 'Rembrandt'-type signatures permitted the formation of a reference group, but the 15 'RHL van Rijn' specimens were not enough. (V.b.) On the assumption that the handwriting experts' judgment was reliable, only about 40% of the paintings established by the RRP team as authentic were actually signed by Rembrandt himself. It transpired that one of the reference signatures came from a pupil's work (figure 6), as did two others regarded as authentic, albeit with a lower probability gradation. The handwriting experts' results thus supply independent corroboration of the art-historical opinion that Rembrandt signed studio work. (V.b. and Table I) Comparison of the results of our investigation with corresponding assessments of 'Rembrandt'-type signatures by the RRP team yielded 11 controversial opinions: 8 among the 47 authentic paintings and 3 among the 26 unauthentic ones. (V.C.I.) Apart from the experience of the handwriting experts, controversies stem from the fundamentally different approaches of the two disciplines in forming their judgment by means of selecting reference signatures and evaluating characteristics. The fact that the handwriting experts reject more signatures on authentic paintings and accept more in the case of unauthentic ones than the art historians is due to the two disciplines' different kinds of knowledge about the relationship between signature and painting. (V.c.2.) Statistical evaluation of the collaboration of the two fields leads to the general conclusion that the intervention of the handwriting experts results in significantly more rejections of signatures on authentic paintings than has been previously established by the art historians. Moreover, on the basis of results obtained by the two disciplines in the case of the 47 authentic paintings, the statistical expectation is that of all the signed authentic paintings by Rembrandt, roughly half do not (any longer) bear his own signature. (V.c.3) It is to be expected that distinct photographic enlargements, in combination with in situ scientific examination of the material condition of the signature and its direct surroundings, will improve the reliability of signature assessment. Keith Moxey, Peasants, Warriors, and Wives. Popular Imagery in the Keformation, (The University of Chicago Press. Chicago and London, 1989). 165 Seiten mit 57 Schwarz-welß-Abbildungen. In den USA ist in den letzten Jahren eine zunehmende Aufmerksamkeit für die deutsche Kunst der Dürerzeit und speziell der Reichsstadt Nürnberg zu verzeichnen. Die bedeutenden Ausstellungen 'Gothic and Renaissance Art in Nuremberg 1300-1550' (1986) und 'The World in Miniature. Engravings by the German Little Masters' (1988/89) sowie eine Reihe von Dissertationen manifestieren dieses Interesse, dem auch das vorliegende Buch zu verdanken ist. Der Autor hat sich seit seiner Dissertation über Pieter Aertsen und Joachim Beuckelaer (1977) der Erforschung der profanen und populären Bildwclt des 15. und 16. Jahrhunderts in Deutschland und den Niederlanden gewidmet und dabei die Frage nach den gesellschaftlichen Funktionen und Intentionen solcher Darstellungen im Medium der Druckgraphik in den Mittelpunkt gerückt. Der vorliegende Band präsentiert drei Studien zu thematischen Schwerpunkten des Nürnberger Einblattholzschnitts im Zeitalter der Reformation, verbunden durch weitere Kapitel über die historische Situation Nürnbergs und über die medialen Charakteristika von Holzschnitt und Einblattdruck. Der wissenschaftliche Apparat belegt, daß Moxey die reiche deutschsprachige Literatur zur Nürnberger Kunst- und Lokalgeschichte gründlich studiert hat. Seine Übersetzungen der Texte der Einblattdrucke (in den Anmerkungen nach den Originalen transkribiert und zitiert) sind akzeptabel. Das Buch wird mit einer hermeneutischen Standorthestimmung eingeleitet, was angesichts des gegenwärtigen Pluralismus der Kunstbegriffe und Methodenansätze zunehmend zum Erfordernis wissenschaftlichen Verantwortungsbewußtseins wird. Der Versuch, Bedeutung und Funktion populärer Bildmedien der Vergangenheit und ihrer Darstellungen zu ermitteln, darf sich weder auf einen ästhetisch definierten Kunstbegriff verpflichten, noch sich auf Methoden verlassen, die an diesem Kunstbegriff ausgerichtet sind. Während zum Beispiel die Ikonologie Bilder als Dokumente weltanschaulicher Einstellungen betrachtet und ihre Bedeutung an die gcistesgeschichtliche Stellung ihrer inhaltlichen Aussagen bindet, stellt sich bei den populären Bildmedien der Reformationszeit die Frage nach ihrer nicht nur reflektierenden, sondern aktiv gestaltenden Rolle als Kommunikationsmittel bei der Artikulierung gesellschaftlicher Interessen und politischer Absichten. Damit gewinnen für den Kunsthistoriker Fragestellungen der Soziologie und der Semiotik vorrangige Bedeutung. Es ergibt sich aber das Problem, daß moderne Begriffe wie 'Klasse' oder 'Ideologie' die Rekonstruktion historischer Vcrständnishorizonte behindern können. Moxey sicht dieses Problem, neigt aber dazu, ihm in Richtung auf cincn meines Erachtens oberflächlichen Pragmatismus auszuweichen, wenn er mit Hayden White postuliert, der Historiker könne nur die Fragen stellen, die ihm seine eigene Zeit aufgibt. Es wird sich zeigen, daß diese Einstellung problematische Konsequenzen hat. Der Überblick über die historische Situation Nürnbergs (Kapitel i) hebt folgende Faktoren hervor: die oligarchische Herrschaft des Handelspatriziats mit rigider Kontrolle über alle Aktivitäten der unteren Bevölkerungsschichten; die Propagierung einer vom Patriziat definierten kulturellen Identität des Nürnberger Bürgertums durch öffentliche Darbietungen (Schembartlauf, Fastnachtsspiele), bei denen die Abgrenzung von unbürgerlichen Lebensformen, personifiziert durch Narren und Bauern, eine wesentliche Rolle spielt; die Verbundenheit des herrschenden Patriziats mit der kaiserlichen Sache trotz Religonskriegen und konfessionellen Gegensätzen; der Beitrag der nationalistischen Ideen der Nürnberger Humanisten zum rcichsstädtischcn Selbstverständnis ; die Lösung des Konflilzts zwischen protestantischem Bekenntnis und Kaisertreue mit Hilfe von Luthers Lehre der 'zwei Welten'. Kapitel 2 ('The Media: Woodcuts and Broadsheets') behandelt die Aufgaben des Holzschnitts, die Bedingungen seiner Herstellung und Verbreitung im Zusammenhang mit dem rasanten Auf-stieg des Buch- und Flugblattdrucks und einer auf Aktualität zielenden Publizistik, sowie die Stellung der Künstler als Vorlagenzeichner, die von den Druckern und Verlegern weitgehend abhängig waren. Bisherige Versuche, Holzschnitte und Illustrationen als Ausdruck persönlicher Überzeugungen der Vorlagen zeichner zu deuten, mußten daher in die Irre führen, wie Moxey am Beispiel der Brüder Beham belegt. Zu den Rahmenbedingungen der medialen Funktion Nürnberger Holzschnitte gehört aber noch ein weiterer Faktor, den Moxey nicht berücksichtigt: der deutliche Gegensatz zwischen Holzschnitt und Kupferstich im Hinblick auf Verbreitung, Themenwahl, Darstellungsweise, Verhältnis Bild-Text und Rezeptionsweise, der unter anderem dazu führt, daß an übereinstimmende Themen bei gleichen Künstlern unterschiedliche formale und inhaltliche Anforderungen gestellt werden, und daß sogar Motive bei der Übernahme aus einem Medium in das andere ihre Bedeutung ändern können. Dieser Gegensatz ist charakteristisch für die Nürnberger Graphik und ist weder in der Augsburger noch in der niederländischen Graphik dieser Zeit annähernd vergleichbar deutlich ausgeprägt. Kapitel 3 ('Festive Peasants and Social Order') ist die überarbeitete Fassung eines Aufsatzes, der in 'Simiolus' 12, 1981/2 unter dem Titel 'Sebald Beham's Church Anniversary Holidays: Festive Peasants as Instruments of Repressive Humour' erschienen ist. In die damals aktuelle, von Hessel Miedema und Svetlana Alpers ausgelöste Debatte über die Deutung von Bauernfest-Darstellungen und die Funktion des Komischen in Kunst und Dichtung des 16. Jahrhunderts hatte dieser Aufsatz wegweisende Argumente eingeführt, die mir bei meinen eigenen Forschungen über die 'Bauernsatiren' sehr nützlich und klärend waren. Abgesehen von einem knappen Hinweis Konrad Rengers (Sitzungsberichte der Kunstgeschichtlichen Gesellschaft zu Berlin, neue Folge, 20, 1971/72, 9-16) hatte Moxey als erster auf den Zusammenhang der Bauernfest-Holzschnitte mit der literarischen Tradition der Bauernsatire aufmerksam gemacht, welche durch die Behams in der Verbindung von Bild und Text und der Nähe zu Dichtungen des Hans Sachs für Nürnberg aktualisicrt wurde. Diese 'Bauernfeste' sind folglich keine Zeugnisse eines folkloristischen Realismus, sondern komplexe Übertragungen literarischer Stereotype in Bilder. Die Bauern und ihre Kirmessen und Hochzeiten sind weniger Gegenstände und Ziele dieser Darstellungen, sondern fungieren als Mittel der Stände- und Moralsatire. Lediglich in einem Punkt haben mich Moxey's Argumente nicht überzeugt: für ihn scheinen die feiernden Bauern der Behams tatsächlich die Dorf-bewohner des Nürnberger Umlandes aus der ideologischen Sicht der Patrizier darzustellen. Dies deutet er an, wenn er die Holzschnitte als 'visual vehicle for the expression of class ridicule' betrachtet und im - neu formulierten - Schluß des Kapitels bei Betrachtern aus dem Nürnberger Handwerkerstand sentimentale Erinnerungen an das 'freiere' Leben ihrer bäuerlichen Vorfahren vermutet. Zu Beginn des Kapitels setzt er sich mit zwei Richtungen der traditionellen Interpretation auseinander, welche diese Holzschnitte als unmittelbare oder mittelbare, d.h. ideologische Reflexe gesellschaftlicher Wirklichkeit betrachteten. Aber auch er löst sich nicht ganz von dieser Prämisse, wie der neuformuliertc Titel 'Festive Peasants and Social Order' bekräftigt. Dagegen habe ich einzuwenden, daß die literarische Tradition der Bauern-und Bauernfestsatire in keinem unmittelbaren Zusammenhang mit der Ständelehre steht, welche die Rechte und Pflichten des Bauernstandes festlegt. Deren Gegenstand ist vielmehr der Bauer als Ernährer der Gesellschaft, der arbeitet und Abgaben leistet oder sich dieser ihm von Gott zugewiesenen Rolle verweigert. Darauf nehmen die Bauernfest-Holzschnitte nur insofern Bezug, als Ausschweifungen, Luxus und bewaffneter Streit die Einhaltung dieser bäuerlichen Pflichten gefährden. Im Vordergrund steht aber die Funktion dieser Holzschnitte als satirischer Spiegel 'bäurischer' Unsitten, so daß der Titel besser lauten sollte 'Festive Peasants and Social Behaviour'. Hier rächt es sich, daß Moxey den modernen soziologischen Bcgriff 'Klasse' anstelle des historisch angemessenen Begriffs 'Stand' verwendet. 'Stand' impliziert eine Reihe theologischer und moralischer Wertsetzungen, die dem politisch-ökonomisch definierten Begriff 'Klasse' fehlen. Aber gerade mit diesen 'argumentieren' die Holzschnitte und die ihnen entsprechenden Texte, und auf dieser Ebene des Arguments nehmen sie auch Stellung zur politischen und konfessionellen Aktualität. Eine andere Frage ist, welche Aspekte der Bedeutung der zeitgenössische Betrachter wahrnahm: politische, moralische, konfessionelle, literarische, brauchtumsmäßige usw. Dies dürfte von seiner eigenen jeweiligen Position als Bürger von Nürnberg oder einer anderen Stadt, Humanist, Lutheraner, Grundbesitzer mitbestimmt worden sein. Die 'Multifunhtionalität' der Baucrnsatire, auf die vor mir schon Hessel Miedema und Paul Vandenbroeck hingewiesen haben,2 d.h. die gesellschaftliche Differenziertheit der Rezeptionsweise, der die Holzschnitte sichtlich Rechnung tragen, darf nicht außer Betracht bleiben. In Kapitel 4 legt Moxey die erste kunsthistorische Untersuchung der zahlreichen Darstellungen von Landsknechten im Nürnberger Holzschnitt vor. Ausgangspunkt ist Erhard Schöns großformatiger 'Zug der Landsknechte' (um 1532, Geisberg 1226-1234), den Moxey als Heroisierung der kaiserlichen Militärmacht und damit als Nümberger Propaganda für die kaiserliche Politik deutet. Aktueller Anlaß ist die Türkengefahr mit der Belagerung Wiens 1532. Dies ist eine begründete, aber nicht in jeder Hinsicht überzeugende Hypothese. In den Serien einzelner Landsknechts-Figurcn van Schön (Geisberg 1981ff) und Hans Sebald Beham (Geisberg 273ff) weisen beigegebene Texte wiederholt darauf hin, daß es sich um Teilnehmer an kaiserlichen Feldzügen handelt. Im 'Zug der Landsknechte' wird zwar eine burgundischhabsburgische Fahne entrollt, aber der Text von Hans Sachs läßt den Hauptmann an der Spitze des Zuges ausdrücklich sagen: 'Die Landsknecht ich byn nemcn an/Eynem Herren hie ungemelt', was angesichts der von Moxey vermuteten pro-kaiserlichen Propaganda zumindest erklärungsbedürftig ist. Den werbenden und heroisierenden Drucken stellt Moxey eine größere Zahl von Holzschnitten gegenüber, die nicht von den Leistungen, Ansprüchen und Verdiensten der Söldner, sondern von den negativen Aspekten des Landsknechtslebens und -charakters handeln. Todesbedrohung, Sittenlosigkeit, Aggressivität und Abkehr von ehrlichem Erwerb aus Gier nach schnellem Geld werden teils anklagend teils satirisch thematisiert. Diese Gespaltenheit des Bildes vom Landsknecht in verschiedenen Drucken derselben Verleger nach Vorlagen derselben Zeichner wird mit einer widersprüchlichen Einstellung zum Krieg und mit Luthers eschatologischer Deutung der Türkengefahr als 'Gottesgeißel' in Verbindung gebracht. Der Landsknecht erscheint einerseits als 'Mittel der Bekräftigung kaiserlicher Macht angesichts einer nationalen Bedrohung', anderseits als 'Mittel der Ermahnung, daß die Türkeninvasion eher eine moralische als eine militärische Notlage darstellt, und daß physische Gewalt das ungeeignete und unangemessene Mittel der Auseinandersetzung mit einer Züchtigung Gottes ist.' Den entscheidenden Beleg für diese Deutung findet Moxey in Erhard Schöns 'Landsknechtstroß vom Tod begleitet'. Die Hure am Arm des Fähnrichs und der Hahn auf dem Trainwagen bezeichnen die sexuelle Zügellosigkeit der Landsknechte, gefangene Türken und straffällige Söldner marschieren gefesselt hintereinander. Der neben dem Trainwagen reitende Tod mit erhobenem Stundenglas wird von zwei Skeletten begleitet, von denen eines als Landsknecht, das andere als Türke gekleidet ist. Moxey: 'Durch das Auslöschen der Unterschiede zwischen Türkc und Landsknecht leugnet der Tod die heroischen Eigenschaften, die dem Söldner in Werken wie 'Der Zug der Landshnechte' zugeschrieben werden. In diesem Zusammenhang erscheint die kaiserliche Sache nicht wertvoller als die der Feinde.' Einer Verallgemeinerung dieser Deutung und ihrer Übertragung auf die anderen negativen Landsknechtsdarstellungen ist cntgegenzuhalten, daß es in diesen keinerlei Anspielungen auf die Türken gibt. Das gilt insbesondere für einen 'Troß'-Holzschnitt des Hans Sebald Beham (Geisberg 269-272), der um 1530, d.h. vor Schöns 'Troß vom Tod begleitet' entstanden sein dürfte und mit diesem das Vorbild von Albrecht Altdorfers 'Troß' aus dem 'Triumphzug Kaiser Maximilians I.' teilt. Behams 'Troß' steht unter dem Kommando eines 'Hurnbawel' (Hurenwaibel), der den von einem Boten überbrachten Befehl zum Halten angesichts einer kommenden Schlacht weitergibt. Der Troß aus Karren und Weibern, begleitet von unheroischen, degeneriert aussehenden Landsknechten oder Troßbuben, führt vor allem Fässer, Flaschen und Geflügel mit. Die Fahne wird von einem Hahn als dem bedeutungsträchtigen Feldzeichen dieses zuchtlosen und lächerlichem Haufens überragt. Moxey hat diesen Holzschnitt nicht berücksichtigt. Mein Eindruck ist, daß eine religiös oder ethisch motivierte ambivalente Einstellung zur Kriegführung im Allgemeinen oder zum Türkenkrieg im Besonderen nicht die Gegensätzlichkeit des Landsknechtsbildes erklären kann. Ich sehe vielmehr eine Parallele zu dem ähnlich gespaltenen Bild vom Bauern in positive Ständevertreter und satirische Vertreter 'grober' bäurischer Sitten. Bei den Landsknechtsdarstellungen kann man zwischen werbenden und propagandistischen Bildern heroischer Streiter für die kaiserliche Sache und kritisch-satirischen Darstellungen der sittlichen Verkommenheit der Soldateska und der sozial schädlichen Attraktivität des Söldnerwesens für arme Handwerker unterscheiden. Kapitel 5 ('The Battle of the Sexes and the World Upside Down') behandelt eine Reihe von Drucken, welche die Herrschaft des Mannes über die Frau und die Pflicht des Mannes, diese Herrschaft durchzusetzen, zum Gegenstand haben. Die Fülle solcher Drucke im Nürnberg der Reformationszeit und die Brutalität, die den Männern empfohlen wird, erlauben es nicht, hier bloß eine Fortsetzung mittelalterlicher Traditionen frauenfeindlicher Satire zu sehen. Moxey erkennt die Ursachen für die besondere Aktualität und Schärfe dieser Bilder in den demographischen und sozialen Verhältnissen Nürnbergs (Verdrängung der Frauen aus dem Erwerbsleben im Zuge verschärfter Konkurrenzbedingungen) und im Einfluß der lutherischen Ehelehre. Die Familie wird als Keimzelle des Staates aufgefaßt, die Sicherung familiärer Herrschaftsstrukturen gilt als Voraussetzung für das Funktionieren staatlicher Autorität und ist daher Christenpflicht. Dieser Beitrag ist eine wertvolle Ergänzung der Untersuchungen zur Ikonologie des bürgerlichen Familienlebens in reformierten Ländern des 16. und 17. Jahrhunderts, die sich bisher auf die Niederlande konzentriert hatten.3 Die abschließenden 'Conclusions' versuchen, aus diesen Ergebnissen eine präzisere Charakterisierung der medialen Qualitäten Nürnberger Holzschnitte zu gewinnen. Ihr 'schlichter Stil' oder 'Modus' folgt aus einer bewußten Reduzierung der formalen Mittel der Graphik und ermöglicht eine Unterordnung des Bildes unter den Text. Einblattdrucke und Flugblätter stehen den Inkunabelillustrationen nahe, bei denen die 'Lesbarkeit' des Bildes die dominierende Form von Anschaulichkeit ist. Mit Norman Bryson spricht Moxey von 'diskursiven' Bildern, die keinen Anspruch auf künstlerischen Eigenwert machen und deren Informationsgehalt einseitig auf den Text bezogen ist. Die Reduktionen der formalen Mittel, d.h. die Verkürzung der Information verlangt von Betrachter die Auffüllung mit Bedeutungen, die dem Text oder - in dessen Abwesenheit - 'Zeichensvstemen anderer Ordnung', z.B. Fastnachtspielen zu entnehmen sind. Eine charakteristische Sonderform ist die Rcihung von einzelnen, relativ gleichförmigen Bildern zu Serien, zu einer friesartigen Gesamtkomposition. Moxey erklärt dieses Prinzip mit der Vorbildhaftigkeit der Riesenholzschnitte für Kaiser Maxmilian I., in denen Redundanz als Mittel propagandistischer Wirkungssteigerung fungiert. Dies scheint mir zu kurz gegriffen, den gcrade in Nürnberg dürfte die literarische und dramatische Form des 'Reihenspiels' (die einzelnen Darsteller treten wie in einer Rev ue nacheinander vor und sprechen ihren Text) ein noch wiehtigerer Ausgangspunkt gewesen sein, zumal diese literarische Form auch in den Texten vieler Einblattdrucke angewendet wird, vor allem von Hans Sachs. Der 'schlichte Stil' oder Modus läßt viel mehr Abstufungen und Variationen zu, als Moxey's 'Conclusions' zu erkennen geben. In Holzschnitten wie Hans Sebald Behams 'Großes Bauernfest' liegt eine komplexe Darstellungsweise vor, die die Bezeichnung 'schlicht' kaum mehr verdient. Moxey's Unterscheidung in einen lesbaren Vordergrund und einen 'malerischen' Hintergrund ist unangemessen. Ich gebe zu bedenken, daß durch das Wirken Dürers dem Nürnberger Holzschnitt auch spezifisch künstlerische Maßstäbe eröffnet worden sind. Dürer schreibt in seiner 'seltzame red' ausdrücklich, 'das manicher etwas mit der federn in eine tag auff ein halben bogen papirs reyst oder mit seim eyrsellein etwas in ein klein hoeltzlein versticht, daz wuert kuenstlicher und besser dann eins ändern grosses werck.'4 Unter Dürers Einfluß hat der Nürnberger Holzschnitt sich die Möglichkeiten des perspektivisch organisierten Bildraumes erschlossen. Das bedeutet, daß neben das herkömmliche Anschaulichkeitprinzip der 'Lesbarkeit' von Motiven, die auf einer Bildebene aufgereiht sind, das neue Anschaulichkeitprinzip der Perspektivität tritt, die nach den Begriffen der humanistischen Kunstlehre dem rhetorischen Ideal der 'perspicuitas' entspricht. Auch wenn die Einblattholzschnitte nur zu einem Teil und sichtlich unentschieden von dieser neuen Bildform Gebrauch machen, so steht doch fest: der 'schlichte Stil' läßt Veränderungen und Entwicklungen zu, in denen Raum für spezifisch künstlerische Faktoren ist. Moxey's Verzicht auf spezifisch kunsthistorische Fragestellungen enthält die Gefahr einer Verengung des Blickwinkels. Auch seine Einschätzung der bloß dienenden Rolle des Bildes gegenüber dem Text erscheint differenzierungsbedürftig. Indem die knappen und reduzierten Angaben des Bildes den Betrachter dazu veranlassen, sie mit Textinformationen aufzufüllen und zu ergänzen, wächst dem Bild eine aktive Rolle zu: es organisiert und strukturiert die Lektüre des Texts. Im Einblattdruck 'Zwölf Eigenschaften eines boshaften und verruchten Weibes' (Moxey Abb.5.16) zählt der Text von Hans Sachs auf: Vernachlässigung von Haushalt und Kindern, Naschhaftigkeit, Verlogenheit, Putz-sucht, Stolz, Streitsucht, Ungehorsam, Gewalt gegen den Ehe-mann, Verweigerung der ehelichen Pflicht, Ehebruch und schließlich Verleumdung des Ehemannes bei Gericht. Erhard Schöns Holzschnitt zeigt in der Öffnung der beiden Häuser die Punkte I und 12 der Anklage, unordentlichen Haushalt und Verleumdung vor Gericht. Im Vordergrund ist der gewalttätige Streit dargestellt, der das Zerbrechen der ehelichen Gemeinschaft und der familiären Ordnung offenbar eindeutiger zeigt als etwa der Ehebruch. Das Bild illustriert folglich nicht nur, es interpretiert und akzentuiert. Diese aktive Rolle des Bildes gegenüber dem Text ist eine bedeutende Funktionserweiterung des illustrativen Holzschnitts, als deren Erfinder wohl Sebastian Brant zu gelten hat.5 Nach Moxey's Überzeugung 'artilculiert' das in den Nürnberger Holzschnitten entwichelte 'kulturelle Zeichensystem' Vorstellungcn von gesellschaftlichen Beziehungen und Wertmaßstäben, die zutiefst von Luthers Soziallehre geprägt sind und als Maßgaben eines göttlichen Gebotes unverrückbar festgeschrieben und verteidigt werden. Es war im Interesse des Patriziats, diese Stabilität bei allen Bevölkerungsschichten durchzusetzen, und dabei spielten die Einblattdrucke und Holzschnitte eine aktive, gestaltende Rolle. Trotz mancher Einwände im Einzelnen glaube ich, daß diese Deutung grundsätzliche Zustimmung verdient.

AbstractThe front cover artwork is provided by Hang Liu from Prof. Dr. Joachim Albrecht's and Prof. Dr. Katharina Weber's group at Aalen University. The image depicts the wetting properties of a biopolymer foil. Surface microstructuring allows the tailoring of physical chemical properties that can lead to biodegradable packaging foils. Read the full text of the Research Article at 10.1002/cphc.202300301.

One of the prized possessions of the Royal Library in Copenhagen, an expensively bound composite volume of seven different German-language writings on the art and legality of war printed in Copenhagen in 1578 by Lorentz Benedicht for Frederik II, is usually called Joachim Arentsehe’s “War Book”. However, the title pages assign only parts 2 and 4-7 to Arentsehe, while for parts 1 and 3 no author is named. The very extensive part 1, opening with woodcuts of the King’s portrait and the National Arms and containing numerous hand-coloured illustrations, is evidently the main work of the volume. Its author came to light in 2001 when German historian Rainer Leng, as part of a systematic investigation into the late medieval German “Büchsenmeisterbücher”, published Franz Helm’s “Buch von den probierten Künsten”, one of the most thorough and richly transmitted works on the art of war of the whole of the sixteenth century, which he wrote in around 1530. It is Helm’s book which comprises the main section of Frederik II’s “War Book”. Leng was unaware of Benedicht’s anonymous printed edition, and in Denmark the assumption of Arentsehe’s authorship continued to hold a veil over the true origins of the work, until a detailed comparison showed the two to be identical. While, in Germany, Helm’s work was transmitted only in manuscript for some 100 years, and was first printed in 1625, Benedicht’s Copenhagen printing dates from some 50 years earlier. The reason why transmittance was dominated by manuscripts is presumably both the desire to make the book’s content seem secret knowledge and the desire to give it an aura of exclusivity, such as more properly belongs to an illustrated manuscript than to a printed version. However, the same exclusivity was achieved by Benedicht’s printed work through the perfection of its craftsmanship, its illustrations and by the fact that it was produced in one copy only, for the use of the King.

Science is an important fixture in the human experience, and it has emerged from the shrouds of magic and fallacies. Science is now how humans come to understand the world around them. It is also the basis for the evolution and technological advancement of today's society. There are two major schools of thought in science: the inductive and the deductive (Wills, 2022). The latter has received wider acceptance and governs the experimentation (Wang et al., 2020). However, this process is marred by scientific misconduct when some researchers do not adhere to the rules of science for a variety of reasons (Lee, 2016). This threatens to compromise the integrity of our technological status and might even lead to catastrophic consequences. Examples include the fraudulent study on the cancer-fighting properties of plants published by Dr. M.D. Anderson (Ackerman, 2012) and Joachim Boldt published studies indicating that colloids are safe to use contrary to previous studies (Blake, 2011). It is therefore imperative to recognize these instances of misconduct and uproot them from the scientific community. The article is a review that looks into the articles dealing with scientific misconduct to develop an overview of the subject at hand. These incidents can be detrimental to the health and well-being of human beings. It can hinder progress as well as cause untold harm by the re-emergence of diseases that have already been conquered. It is recommended that we foster a culture of scientific integrity where everyone is aware of the importance of this issue. Moreover, journals can be more diligent in their reviews and reliant on peer reviews.

Teesid: Artiklis uuritakse Eesti Kirjandusmuuseumis asuvat mahukat, ligi 800 lk tõlkekäsikirja „Norem Robinson“, mida võib pidada esimeseks eesti kirjanduse täiemahuliseks robinsonaadiks. Selle valmistas Pärnu koolmeister Heinrich Gottlieb Lorenzsonn saksa pedagoogi ja koolikirjaniku Joachim Heinrich Campe menukast noorsooromaanist „Robinson der Jüngere“ (1779–1780). Tõlge valmis 1822.–1823. aastal, kuid jõudis trükki alles 1842. aastal tugevasti kärbitud ja mugandatud kujul. Toetudes deskriptiivse tõlkeuurimuse analüüsikategooriatele, vaadeldakse artiklis, millised tegurid tõlkeprotsessi suunasid ja milline oli kultuuriruum, kuhu tõlge omal ajal paigutus.SU M M A R YThis article discusses a voluminous manuscript translation of almost 800 pages entitled Norem Robinson (Engl. Robinson the Younger), from the collections of the Estonian Literary Museum. This manuscript can be considered as the first complete Robinsonade in Estonian literature. Its author is a schoolteacher from Pärnu, Heinrich Gottlieb Lorenzsonn (1803–1847), who translated it from the youth novel Robinson der Jüngere(1779–1780, Engl. Robinson the Younger), a bestseller by the educator, writer and a major representative of German Enlightenment, Heinrich Joachim Campe. Lorenzsonn’s translation was completed in 1822–1823, but not printed until 1842 in a strongly adapted version titled Norema Robinsoni ello ja juhtumised ühhe tühja sare peäl (Engl. The Life and Adventures of Robinson the Younger on a deserted island). The print version of the Robinsonade lacks a pedagogical frame story, where the father tells children about the adventures of Robinson and takes the opportunity to discuss and imitate with children all the actions taken by Robinson the Younger. Due to this and other extirpated parts, the possible target audience was enlarged – besides children and youth, the text was now addressed to adults as well.In accordance with the Descriptive Translation Studies, this article focused on the one hand on the Lorenzsonn's Campe-translation, and on the other hand, on the context of the target culture, arriving at conclusions concerning the factors influencing the translation process. The article uses Gideon Toury’s treatment of translation norms to discuss ideosyncrasies of the participants of the translation process (translator, mentor, censor), as well as the relevance of other norms. First preliminary norms regarding translation policy are analysed. Secondly, initial norms determine whether the translation is oriented to the source text and culture (the goal is adequacy) or to the target text and culture (the goal is acceptance). Thirdly, operational norms direct particular translation decisions. Operational translation norms can be divided further into matricial norms that concern the fullness of the translated text and textual-linguistic norms that concern the questions of grammar, syntax, style etc.The article focuses on the presumed decisions of Heinrich Gottlieb Lorenzsonn and his teacher and mentor, well-known Baltic German Estophile Johann Heinrich Rosenplänter, in the translation process. In addition, the article discusses the educational circumstances in primary schools for peasants in Estonia in the first half of the 19th century and the reading skills of potential Estonian-speaking readers at that time. Clearly, at the beginning of the 19th century, the Estonian-speaking audience was too small and not yet ready for such voluminous, demanding aesthetic and scientific reading materials. The comparative analysis of the translation manuscript and the printed text focuses on the lexical, semantic and grammatical levels, concluding that the manuscript aspires to adequacy with respect to Campe’s Robinsonade, but the printed version appeals to the Estonian-speaking reader and the Estonian cultural context. This can be explained by the fact that the aim of the manuscript was language study, while with the printed book Lorenzsonn wanted to bring the huge translation work from his early years to the literary market.Although both texts are linguistically clumsy, and the printed text has lost value because of the extirpations, it is still a translation gem dating from the very beginnings of Estonian literature, one that has not received sufficient recognition in Estonian literary history. The translation work of Heinrich Gottlieb Lorenzsonn, carried out at a time when the Estonian language was not yet fully developed is also a fact that has not been acknowledged as it well deserves to be. Further, this article undertakes to rectify two misunderstandings of Estonian literary history. First, Lorenzsonn’s Campe-translation is not a chapbook, although Estonian literary history has always defined it as such. It is demanding reading material which aims to enlarge the horizon of the Estonian-speaking reader in fields such as exotic flora and fauna, morals and ethics, and different methods of work, while simultaneously entertaining the reader and offering aesthetic pleasure. The second misunderstanding concerns the fact that the first Robinsonade of Estonian literature is considered to be Weikisi Hanso luggu tühja sare peal, (1839, Engl. A Story of the Little Hans on an deserted island) an adaptation by Johann Thomasson from Gottfried der Einsiedler (1829, Engl. Gottfried, the hermit), a youth story by German Pietist and children’s and youth writer Christoph von Schmid. Even though Thomasson’s Robinsonade, which can without hesitation be defined as a chapbook, was printed a few years earlier than Lorenzsonn’s Campe adaptation, Lorenzsonn accomplished his translation twenty years earlier. Also, in terms of artistic quality and translation techniques, Lorenzsonn’s huge work is on a much higher level than Thomasson’s adaptation.

Zusammenfassung Ich habe nur noch den Wunsch, Scharfrichter oder Henker zu werden. Briefe an Justice Jackson zum Nürnberger Prozeß. Hrsg. von Henry Bernhard (Manfred Messerschmidt) Jerzy Kochanowski, In polnischer Gefangenschaft. Deutsche Kriegsgefangene in Polen 1945-1950 (Rüdiger Overmans) Andreas Kossert, Kalte Heimat. Die Geschichte der deutschen Vertriebenen nach 1945 (Konrad Fuchs) Vergangenheitspolitik und Erinnerungskulturen im Schatten des Zweiten Weltkriegs. Deutschland und Skandinavien seit 1945. Hrsg. von Robert Bohn, Christoph Cornelißen und Karl Christian Lammers (Susanne Maerz) Alternativen zur Wiederbewaffnung. Friedenskonzeptionen in Westdeutschland 1945-1955. Hrsg. von Detlef Bald und Wolfram Wette (Martin Kutz) Richard Dähler, Die japanischen und die deutschen Kriegsgefangenen in der Sowjetunion 1945-1956 (Gerhard Krebs) Die Macht der Wahrheit. Reinhold Schneiders »Gedenkwort zum 20. Juli« in Reaktionen von Hinterbliebenen des Widerstandes. Hrsg. von Babette Stadie mit einer Einführung von Peter Steinbach (Winfried Heinemann) Hermann Wentker, Außenpolitik in engen Grenzen. Die DDR im internationalen System 1949 - 1989 (Rolf Steininger) Franz Uhle-Wettler, Rührt Euch! Weg, Leistung und Krise der Bundeswehr (Heiner Bröckermann) Tim Geiger, Atlantiker gegen Gaullisten. Außenpolitischer Konflikt und innerparteilicher Machtkampf in der CDU/CSU 1958-1969 (Henning Türk) Documents Diplomatiques Français 1966. T. 1: 1er janvier 31 mai; T. 2: 1er juin 31 décembre. Ed. par Ministère des Affaires étrangères Documents Diplomatiques Français 1967. T. 1: 1er janvier 1er juillet. Ed. par Ministère des Affaires étrangères (Klaus-Jürgen Müller) Mai 68 vu de l´étranger. Les Événements dans les archives diplomatiques françaises. Sous la dir. de Maurice Vaïsse (Klaus-Jürgen Müller) Prager Frühling. Das internationale Krisenjahr 1968. Hrsg. von Stefan Karner [u.a.], Bd 1: Beiträge; Bd 2: Dokumente (Gerhard Wettig) ČSSR-Intervention 68. DDR dabei – NVA marschiert nicht. Zeitzeugenberichte. Hrsg. von Guntram König unter Mitarb. von Günter Heinemann und Wolfgang Wünsche (Rüdiger Wenzke) Dietrich E. Koelle, Peter Sacher und Herbert Grallert, Deutsche Raketenflugzeuge und Raumtransporter-Projekte (Bernd Lemke) Hagen Koch und Peter Joachim Lapp, Die Garde des Erich Mielke. Der militärisch-operative Arm des MfS. Das Berliner Wachregiment »Feliks Dzierzynski« (Jochen Maurer) Nils Abraham, Die politische Auslandsarbeit der DDR in Schweden. Zur Public Diplomacy der DDR gegenüber Schweden nach der diplomatischen Anerkennung (1972-1989) (Michael F. Scholz) Georg Herbstritt, Bundesbürger im Dienst der DDR-Spionage (Clemens Heitmann) Gunther Hauser, Die NATO – Transformation, Aufgaben, Ziele Johannes Varwick, Die NATO. Vom Verteidigungsbündnis zur Weltpolizei? (Carlo Masala) Innere Führung für das 21. Jahrhundert. Die Bundeswehr und das Erbe Baudissins. Hrsg. im Auftr. der Führungsakademie der Bundeswehr Uwe Hartmann, Innere Führung. Erfolge und Defizite der Führungsphilosophie für die Bundeswehr (Winfried Heinemann) Bedingt erinnerungsbereit. Soldatengedenken in der Bundesrepublik. Hrsg. von Manfred Hettling und Jörg Echternkamp (Martin Kutz)

Western images of Japan tell a seemingly incongruous story of love, sex and marriage – one full of contradictions and conflicting moral codes. We sometimes hear intriguing stories about the unique sexual culture of Japan – from vending machines that dispense soiled schoolgirl panties (Gerster 143), erotic manga (Ito 70; Newitz 2) to automated love hotels (Kersten 387) available for the discreet quickie. These Western portrayals seem to focus primarily on the unusual and quirky side of Japan’s culture constructing this modern Asian culture as simultaneously traditional and seemingly liberated. But what happens, when Japanese love goes global – when exotic others (Westerners) enter the picture? This article is shaped by an understanding of a new world space where cultural products and national images are becoming increasingly globalised, while at the same time more localised and “fragmented into contestatory enclaves of difference, coalition and resistance” (Wilson, 1). It examines ‘the local’, briefly exploring the racial and gender ideologies that pattern relationships between Western and Japanese adults living in Japan focussing on the unique perspective of Western women living and working in provincial Japan. Our research is based on four month’s ethnographic field work carried out within a small provincial Japanese city (which was home to 130 native English speakers, most of whom are employed as English language teachers) and interviews with 12 key participants. Japanese colloquialisms like sebun-irebun (seven eleven), burasagarizoku (arm hangers) and yellow cabs (women as easy to hail as taxis – by foreigners) are used to denote the sexual availability of some Japanese women (Kelskey, Flirting with the Foreign 178). Western women in this study have also invented a colloquialism to allude to sexual availability, with the term ‘zero to hero’ used to describe many Western men who, upon arrival in Japan, find themselves highly sought after by some Japanese women as prospective partners. Western women’s social appeal in the local heterosexual community, on the other hand, is in direct contrast to their male equivalents. A greater social distance exists between Japanese males and Western females, who report finding little genuine opportunity to date local males. Letting the c(h)at out of the bag While living and socialising with English language teachers we became privy to women’s conversation about interracial gender issues within Japan. Western women’s reflections about gender issues within Japan have, so far, been given little or no public voice. This is due, in part, to these women’s cultural and gender isolation while living in Japan, and a general reluctance to publicly voice their opinions, combined with issues about how much it is ‘politically correct’ to say. This reticence can be attributed to a genuine fear of being misconstrued as envious, either of their male colleagues’ newfound social status or Japanese women’s attractiveness. It may also be that, by voicing these observations about interracial gender relationships in Japan, these women will publicly position themselves as powerless and thus lose any voice they do have. Western women who arrive in Japan with expectations of living active (heterosexual) sex lives often find themselves left out in the cold (My Nippon), and while many of their male colleagues are busy pursuing and being pursued by Japanese women their own social interaction with Japanese males is often restricted to awkward conversations with seemingly wary, shy or aloof Japanese men or crude suggestive conversations at the hands of drunken Japanese males. Some women experience their sense of self-esteem, which relies partly on sexual identity and a sense of attractiveness, plummets in these circumstances. Clarissa, a 24-year-old Australian who spent a few months waiting for her partner to join her in Japan, noticed this happening to her. She was interviewed a week after her partner arrived in Japan. I noticed that a while ago I was feeling unattractive because nobody does anything to indicate desire or attractiveness but as soon as they get drunk they can’t get enough of you…. Sober they wouldn’t do anything but when they are drunk … they crack onto you like any Western guy. Participants in the study have proffered thoughtful explanations for this lack of Japanese male/Western female connection, other than in the comparatively uninhibited space of being ‘alcohol affected’. The reasons given include the independent personalities of those Western women who choose to move to Japan, patriarchal attitudes towards women in Japan and a general lack of communication due to cultural or language difficulties. A lot of the women who come over here are very strong and independent and they are feared [by Japanese men] the moment they get off the plane….We didn’t come over here because we are timid and shy and looking for men. Toni (above) also makes clear that her own Western expectations for romantic relationships may exclude her from having relationships with many Japanese males of less than fluent English speaking skills. I’m a talker and I like to talk about ideas and books and I would find it very difficult to have…. a more intense relationship with a person that I couldn’t communicate with on that level. Western notions of romance and marriage, particularly Western women’s expectations concerning sex and romance, involve demonstration of warmth and affection, as well as a meeting of minds or in-depth conversation. Lack of a shared language and different expectations of romantic liaisons and love are some of the factors that can combine to create cross-cultural distance and misunderstanding between Western women and Japanese men. Zero to heroes Japanese women often seek Western men living in this transnational borderland as an alternative to Japanese boyfriends and husbands (Kelskey, Japanese Women's Diaspora). Western women in this study used the term ‘zero to hero’ to depict sought-after Western men, specifically those Western males who misuse this rise in status and behave badly in Japan. These men, as reported, are greatly over-represented in Japan when compared to their respective home communities. Above average-looking European guy, with above average intelligence seeks above average-looking Japanese lady who can cook a little. (Tokyo classifieds) Open discussion about the appeal of Western men to Japanese women seems to elicit critical reactions on either side of the racial and gender divide. For instance online chat discussions about interracial gender issues in Japan evidences the fiercely defensive position many Western men take when confronted with this notion. (see Aldwinckle a, Aldwinkle b, Aldwinkle c). It is clear, therefore, that this phenomenon is not limited to our research location. Women participants in this particular study detailed many examples of ‘zero to heroes’ behaving badly including: overrated opinion of themselves; insulting and degrading behaviour towards women in public – particularly Japanese women; inability to work cooperatively with women superiors in the workplace; sexual liaisons outside of monogamous relationships and in some cases complicated webs of infidelity. You know one guy’s left his wife, his Japanese wife. I didn’t even realize he was married because he had a Japanese girlfriend. I thought he was playing up on his Japanese girlfriend when I saw him with someone else, but he was actually playing up on both his wife and his girlfriend…. I mean the guys are behaving in ways that they wouldn’t get away with in their own countries. So the women from those countries are, of course, appalled (Marie). Japanese women’s desire for the company of Western males seems based on essentialised notions of the Western male as being more gentle, romantic and egalitarian than Japanese males. Analysis by Creighton, along with our own observations, indicates that there is ‘prevalent use of foreigners, particularly white foreigners, or gaijin, in Japanese advertising (135)’, constructing a discourse of the ‘desirable other’. Western images and ideals are also communicated through media texts (particularly Japanese women’s magazines) and promote ideals like individuality, leisure, international sophistication and sexual expression. It is clear from this research and other studies (Kelskey, Japanese Women's Diaspora) that Japanese women (living in Japan) perceive Western men as being more affectionate, kind and egalitarian than Japanese males. However, the notion of a caring and romantic Western male does not seem to be based in the reality of the situation as described by in situ Western females. Here the zero to hero construction of Western masculinity holds sway. Western females in this transnational borderland portray many of their male counterparts as general losers. One participant explained the phenomenon thus: I think that consciously or subconsciously the reason a lot of these men come over here is because they can’t really find a relationship at home. [She explains further] somebody [Western male] told me that I remind them of everything that they are not back in their own country. Gerster describes the attraction Japanese women have for the West (America in particular) as a ‘fatal attraction’ because most of these women will not realize their desire to marry their Western boyfriends or lovers (146-148). These women’s desire for the West (which is accomplishable and articulated through a Western partner) seems doomed from the start and it is questionable as to whether these relationships fulfil the aspirations of many of these women. Nevertheless, some Japanese women and Western men are more aware of this and are relatively explicit about their own desires. Japanese cute girl seeking native speakers [native English speakers] who don’t lie, never betray, are funny and handsome. If you are a man like that, try me. (Tokyo classifieds) American, 33, from California looking for Japanese girl, 20s, for having fun together. No marriage-minded girls please. Japanese ok. (Tokyo classifieds) Conclusion The Japanese national desire to be viewed as progressive and modern is, as with most societies, closely aligned with material commodities, particularly Western commodities. This means that within Japan “Western images probably have more advantage over indigenous ones” (Gerster 165) particularly for Japanese women. The local assumptions and generalisations about the Western men and women living and teaching in this transnational borderland are seemingly constructed by essentialised understandings of Western masculinity and femininity and differentiating these with Japanese notions of masculinity and femininity. However, as Kelsky (Japanese Women's Diaspora) and the participants in this study suggest, those Japanese women (who desire the West) may find their expectations do not match the realities of dating Western males in Japan since many Western men do not seem to live up to this essentialized view of the Western male as a romantic and egalitarian male partner who is ready to commit to marriage. Works Cited Aldwinckle, Dave. ‘Gender Issues in Japan, Part one: The loneliness of the long-distance runner (Publication of Exerts from Postings on Issho Mailing List)’ Arudou Debito/Dave Aldwinckle's Activists’ Page (meaning information for people concerned with social issues who want to help make life better for everyone in Japan). 1998. http://www.debito.org/genderissues.html 21.02 2001. ----. ‘Gender Issues in Japan, Part two: greatest hits and apologia (Publication of Exerts from Postings on Issho Mailing List)’ Arudou Debito/Dave Aldwinckle's Activists’ Page (meaning information for people concerned with social issues who want to help make life better for everyone in Japan). 1998. http://www.debito.org/genderissuestwo.html 21.02 2001. ----. ‘Gender Issues in Japan Part three: my comeuppance (Publication of Exerts from Postings on Issho Mailing List)’ Arudou Debito/Dave Aldwinckle's Activists’ Page (meaning information for people concerned with social issues who want to help make life better for everyone in Japan). 1998. http://www.debito.org/genderissuesthree.... 21.02 2001. Creighton, Millie R. ‘Imaging the Other in Japanese Advertising Campaigns’. Occidentalism: Images of the West. Ed. James G. Carrier. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1995. Gerster, Robin. Legless in Ginza: Orientating Japan. Melbourne: Melbourne University Press, 1999. Ito., Kinko. ‘The World of Japanese Ladies' Comics: From Romantic Fantasy to Lustful Perversion’. Journal of Popular Culture 36.1 (2002): 68--86. ‘Japan Lovers Sex Life in Japan? Really!’. My Nippon E-zine . 2001. http://www.mynippon.com/index.htm. 28.04 2001. Kelsky, Karen. ‘Intimate Ideologies: Transnational Theory and Japan's "Yellow Cabs"’. Public Culture 6 (1994): 465-78. ----. ‘Flirting with the Foreign: Interracial Sex in Japan's "International" Age’. Global/Local: Cultural Production and the Transnational Imagery. Eds. Rob Wilson and Winmal Dissanayake. Durham: Duke University Press, 1996. 173 - 92. ----. ‘Japanese Women's Diaspora: An Interview’. Intersections 4 (2000): http://wwwsshe.murdoch.edu.au/intersecti... . 26.02 2002 Kersten., Joachim. ‘Culture, Masculinities and Violence against Women. (Masculinities, Social Relations and Crime)’. British Journal of Criminology, Summer 36.3 (1996): 381-96. ‘Men looking for women’. Tokyo Metropolis (2002) http://www.metropolis.co.jp/tokyo/curren... 11.10.2002 Newitz, Annalee. "Magicial Girls and Atomic Bomb Sperm: Japanese Animation in America." Film quarterly 49.1 (1995): 2-15. Wilson, Rob, and Wimal Dissanayake. ‘Introduction: Tracking the Global/Local’. Global/Local: Cultural Production and the Transnational Imagery. Eds. Rob Wilson and Wimal Dissanayake. Durham: Duke University Press, 1996. 1-18. ‘Women looking for men’. Metropolis. (2002) http://www.metropolis.co.jp/tokyo/curren... 11.10.2002 Links http://www.debito.org/genderissues.html http://www.metropolis.co.jp/tokyo/current/classifieds/13.03_personals.asp http://www.metropolis.co.jp/tokyo/current/classifieds/13.02_personals.asp http://www.elle.co.jp/home/index2.php3 http://wwwsshe.murdoch.edu.au/intersections/ http://www3.tky.3web.ne.jp/~edjacob/hotels.html http://www.dnp.co.jp/museum/nmp/nmp_i/articles/manga/manga2-1.html http://www.debito.org/genderissuesthree.html http://www.sshe.murdoch.edu.au/intersections/ http://www.mynippon.com/index.htm http://www.debito.org/genderissuestwo.html Citation reference for this article Substitute your date of access for Dn Month Year etc... MLA Style Holloway, Donell and Holloway, David. "Zero to hero" M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 5.6 (2002). Dn Month Year < http://www.media-culture.org.au/0211/zerotohero.php>. APA Style Holloway, D. & Holloway, D., (2002, Nov 20). Zero to hero. M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture, 5,(6). Retrieved Month Dn, Year, from http://www.media-culture.org.au/0211/zerotohero.html

Photo by Karl Raymund Catabas on Unsplash The interests of patients at most levels of policymaking are represented by a disconnected patchwork of groups … “After Buddha was dead, they still showed his shadow in a cave for centuries – a tremendous, gruesome shadow. God is dead; but given the way people are, there may still for millennia be caves in which they show his shadow. – And we – we must still defeat his shadow as well!” – Friedrich Nietzsche[1] INTRODUCTION Friedrich Nietzsche famously declared that “God is dead!”[2] but lamented that his contemporaries remained living in the shadow of God. For Nietzsche, the morality of his time was still based in the Christian tradition, even though faith in God was waning. Bioethics lives under a similar shadow: the shadow of Enlightenment Era-rationalism. Bioethics curricula focus on principles derived from Kantian deontology and utilitarianism. The allure of maintaining a moral framework that provides a rational method that can be handily applied to any situation remains strong. The principlist approach advanced by Tom Beauchamp and James Childress is taught to nearly all medical students in the United States,[3] and is essentially the canonical ethical framework of bioethics. In this model, the principle of autonomy is Kantian in nature, and the principles of beneficence and non-maleficence are utilitarian in nature.[4] Moreover, the presented framework is an approach that, when applied rationally to any healthcare scenario, will yield an outcome “considered moral.”[5] This reflects a faulty conception of philosophy that plagues much of bioethics, wherein the only contribution of philosophy pertinent to bioethics is moral philosophy elucidated by European thinkers in the Enlightenment Era. The landscape of moral philosophy has evolved significantly from the 18th century. However, the bioethical world has not kept up with the philosophical world, remaining instead in the shadow of antiquated moral thinking. Also lacking in bioethics are other disciplines of philosophy, such as philosophy of language, existentialism, and aesthetics, which are often given no consideration at all. The inclusion of both modern moral philosophy and other philosophical fields is necessary if bioethics is to survive its transition into modernity. l. The Shadow of Enlightenment Enlightenment Era philosophers such as Immanuel Kant argued that one need only employ reason to obtain knowledge; emotion bore no relevance when determining ethical behavior. Kant’s moral theories thus privileged a duty to act according to moral imperatives over feelings. Other Enlightenment Era philosophers such as John Locke developed systems that attempted to quantify human goods and human ills. This quantification potentially reduces human welfare and suffering to utility. Today, in the world of philosophy, such a “neutral analysis,” as Cora Diamond noted, is “dead or moribund.”[6] Bernard Williams remarked that such moral philosophy is “empty and boring,”[7] and G. E. M. Anscombe stated that it “no longer generally survives.”[8] And yet, just as the atheists in Nietzsche’s world dwelt in the moral code of a dead God, bioethicists still pursue a unified moral system that takes an input, applies some moral rules, and generates a moral outcome, like the four principles approach that Beauchamp and Childress laid out.[9] Some detractors of principlism take issue with their approach for not being unified enough and want to replace it with a procedural framework that is even more systematic and complicated. They argue that the resulting moral framework would be a “comprehensive decision procedure for arriving at answers”[10] that retains the “impartiality that is an essential part of morality.”[11] The shadow of rationalist morality has caused bioethical decision making to become detached and rigid when bioethics should concern itself with the humans whose lives it affects. A rational, divorced-from-emotion way of thinking ultimately fails to yield satisfactory results when decisions are made by and for emotional beings. Dr. Paul Farmer, among others, championed the idea that bioethics should be de-philosophized, as philosophy, cold and calculated, fails to adequately respond to the realities of those worst off.[12] Instead, Dr. Farmer emphasized the inclusion of the social sciences, like sociology and anthropology, in bioethics. Undoubtedly, Dr. Farmer was on the right track; bioethics should certainly engage directly with the people whom its decisions involve. If the narrow band of moral philosophy currently found in bioethics – that of stringent rationalism – were all that philosophy had to offer, I, too, would advocate for a de-philosophization. Ludwig Wittgenstein notes that to attempt to capture the complexity of moral thinking in a manner that employs reason alone and casts aside emotion is a “hopeless task,” like reconstructing a sharp image “from a blurred one.”[13] Unfortunately, bioethics is mired in the remnants of this hopeless task. To Dr. Farmer, the dominant moral framework was too restrictive and was unresponsive to the social and humanitarian needs of those whom bioethics is meant to help. As such, he wished to free bioethics from the shadow of a morality derived from rationalist thinkers. ll. Beyond Rationalism Like Nietzsche, who tried to resolve Europe’s post-religion vacuum by providing his society with a new way to live, Dr. Farmer wanted to replace the rationalist philosophy upon which bioethics was built with a “resocialization” of the field.[14] I agree with Dr. Farmer’s call for resocialization, as well as his denouncement of philosophy as it exists in bioethics. Evaluating risks and benefits along a predetermined array of moral principles is far too rigid and impersonal to guide what are often the most important decisions one will make. For Dr. Farmer, the most needed change was restoring the social element of bioethics. However, in advocating for this resocialization, Dr. Farmer casts philosophy as the antithesis of social science, noting that “few would regard philosophy … as a socializing discipline.”[15] I disagree. Rationalist moral philosophy may be lacking in socializing force, but there are other fields of philosophy that are responsive to our social reality. Rather than de-philosophizing bioethics, it makes more sense to replace the antisocial philosophies predominant in bioethics with prosocial philosophies better suited to it. Of course, the contribution of philosophy to bioethics is more than moral theories from the Enlightenment Era. There are more recent philosophical contributions from outside the field of moral philosophy that have roused bioethical interest. Jennifer Blumenthal-Barby, et al., argue for philosophy’s continued place in bioethics, citing Derek Parfit’s “non-identity problem,” which altered the landscape of reproductive ethics, and David Chalmers’ contributions to philosophy of consciousness, which have implications for the moral status of brain organoids.[16] Still, these are narrow applications of philosophy to highly specialized areas of bioethics, which not all bioethicists are inclined to delve into. Philosophy in bioethics should not be confined to niche applications in specialist fields but should influence all bioethical thought. Fortunately, there remains untapped a wealth of philosophical disciplines that pertains to exactly this. Philosophy of language investigates the nature of meaning and understanding in communication, which is a necessary social action. Successfully deciphering and conveying moral values in discourse is a bioethicist’s bread and butter, as is resolving disagreements and reaching agreements. Indeed, it is often the case that miscommunication lies at the root of an impasse between a doctor and a patient. An understanding of the nature of the disagreement would help resolve the conflict, as different types of disagreements require different interventions for resolution. For instance, a “substantive disagreement,”[17] in which two parties use the same terms in the same ways and have a fundamental disagreement on which outcome is more desirable, can be resolved only if one party yields to the other. On the other hand, a “merely verbal dispute,”[18] in which two parties use the same terms to represent entirely different concepts and values, requires standardization of terminological usage for its resolution. As such, no one can overstate the moral importance of successful communication in bioethics, and an exploration of language itself would prove invaluable to a bioethicist’s training. Existentialism is another subset of philosophy that acknowledges the social nature of human existence, noting that one’s being in the universe is concomitant with the existence of others sharing the same universe.[19] Thus, there is the recognition that whatever existence is, it is not complete without the existence of others. With this as a starting point, existentialists examined how to live meaningfully with others in this world. Since ethics crucially involves others, it is no surprise that existentialists pondered how to live moral lives. Existentialist conceptions of morality did not revolve around acting in accordance with a set of rules, but rather, recognized individual freedom in choosing how to act and emphasized acting authentically. In this vein, bioethicists should commit to doing what is right rather than committing to applying a set of principles. Existentialism, while part of the broader bioethics literature, is less common throughout bioethics curricula and deserves more prominence. Martin Heidegger, for instance, emphasized the difference between two types of thinking: “calculative thinking” and “meditative thinking.” Heidegger characterizes calculative thinking as a computation, wherein from some given starting conditions “definite results”[20] are determined, and contrasts this with meditative thinking, which he describes as “thinking which contemplates the meaning which reigns in everything that is.”[21] Heidegger was critical of the pervasiveness of calculative thinking, seeing it as the “ground of thoughtlessness,”[22] in which we only relate to the world in a meaningless, mechanical way. This is the emphasized type of thinking in rationalist conceptions of morality popular in bioethics; from a set of starting conditions, a series of rules are applied, and a moral outcome is calculated. Such a technique, however, discounts the personal meaning individuals place on the aspects of their lives relevant to their decision making, as well as the meaning in committing to doing what is right. Under calculative thinking, such a commitment is reduced to rote rule-following. A turn to meditative thinking would ensure that bioethical decisions comport with living meaningful lives. Even aesthetics, a discipline devoted to examining beauty and taste,[23] has a place in bioethics. Just as the viewing of a painting, the listening of a song, or the reading of a book elicits an effective response, hearing a patient’s story leaves an emotional imprint. The recounting of a traumatic moment imparts sadness, and a joyous occasion begets joy in the listener as well. As acknowledged in the field of everyday aesthetics, these aesthetic experiences often spur us to act:[24] The unsightly appearance of a polluted riverbank drives us to remove the trash; the presence of sorrow in one’s life drives us to ameliorate it. To be mindful of aesthetic experiences and allow them to affect us emotionally is paramount to the motivation of a bioethicist to serve the patient, not out of an obligation to a job description, but out of a desire to truly avail the patient of their anguish. For example, the new field of narrative medicine utilizes critical reading and literary techniques to train clinicians and bioethicists in emotional understanding and listening skills that stress the social aspects of medicine beyond rational analysis and decision making. CONCLUSION Dr. Farmer is absolutely correct; bioethics is in dire need of resocialization. It should not be the case that the justification for a moral action is essentially that “the rules say so,” or that simply by teaching such rules to medical students, the very act of making bioethical decisions that diverge from those determined by principles can be seen as an act of “bad faith … hubris or, worse, malpractice.”[25] As bioethicists are coming to realize, the rationalist philosophical traditions that bioethics was founded upon are past their expiry, and the time for change is now. Indeed, as Dr. Farmer urges, “socializing disciplines” like anthropology, history, political economy, and sociology are necessary to humanize the field of bioethics.[26] So too, however, can philosophy be a socializing discipline, if we know where to look. Bioethics should evolve. Its new goal should be to focus on meaningful human relationships, and to phase out rigid, impersonal modes of moral thinking. The limited sampling of unsatisfying moral theories from hundreds of years ago leaves many bioethics students cold, and it is easy to see why bioethicists are ready to part ways with philosophy. I believe this is a move in the wrong direction; there is a place for philosophy in the future of bioethics. Just as bioethics needs a resocialization, it is also needs of a re-philosophization. These enrichments complement one another. There is more to bioethics than mechanically determining the right course of action in a healthcare setting. Bioethics engages with the most ancient of philosophical questions: questions of what makes human existence meaningful, what makes us who we are, how we want to relate to others, how and why we feel, what our place in the world is, how we can communicate what we think, and why our moral intuitions are so compelling. We would be remiss if we did not begin to investigate additional contributions to morality from a wider range of philosophies that try to provide answers to such questions, as they offer a richness to moral thinking that cannot be gleaned from traditional bioethical approaches alone. - [1] Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche, The Gay Science: With a Prelude in German Rhymes and an Appendix of Songs, ed. Bernard Williams, Josefine Nauckhoff, and Adrian Del Caro, Cambridge Texts in the History of Philosophy (Cambridge, U.K. ; New York: Cambridge University Press, 2001), 109. [2] Nietzsche, 120. [3] Daniel C O’Brien, “Medical Ethics as Taught and as Practiced: Principlism, Narrative Ethics, and the Case of Living Donor Liver Transplantation,” The Journal of Medicine and Philosophy: A Forum for Bioethics and Philosophy of Medicine 47, no. 1 (February 1, 2022): 97, https://doi.org/10.1093/jmp/jhab039. [4] K. D. Clouser and B. Gert, “A Critique of Principlism,” Journal of Medicine and Philosophy 15, no. 2 (April 1, 1990): 219–36, https://doi.org/10.1093/jmp/15.2.219. [5] O’Brien, “Medical Ethics as Taught and as Practiced,” 97. [6] Cora Diamond, “Having a Rough Story about What Moral Philosophy Is,” New Literary History 15, no. 1 (1983): 168, https://doi.org/10.2307/468998. [7] Bernard Williams, Morality: An Introduction to Ethics, Canto ed (Cambridge ; New York: Cambridge University Press, 1993), xvii. [8] G. E. M. Anscombe, “Modern Moral Philosophy,” Philosophy 33, no. 124 (January 1958): 1, https://doi.org/10.1017/S0031819100037943. [9] Tom L. Beauchamp and James F. Childress, Principles of Biomedical Ethics, 7th ed (New York: Oxford University Press, 2013), 13. [10] Clouser and Gert, 233. [11] Clouser and Gert, “A Critique of Principlism,” 235. [12] Paul Farmer and Nicole Gastineau Campos, “Rethinking Medical Ethics: A View from Below,” Developing World Bioethics 4, no. 1 (May 2004): 17–41, https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1471-8731.2004.00065.x. [13] Ludwig Wittgenstein, Philosophical Investigations, ed. Joachim Schulte, trans. P. M. S. Hacker, 4th edition (Chichester, West Sussex, U.K. ; Malden, MA: Wiley-Blackwell, 2009), 40. [14] Farmer and Campos, “Rethinking Medical Ethics,” 20. [15] Farmer and Campos, 20. [16] Jennifer Blumenthal-Barby et al., “The Place of Philosophy in Bioethics Today,” The American Journal of Bioethics: AJOB, June 30, 2021, 3–5, https://doi.org/10.1080/15265161.2021.1940355. [17] Brendan Balcerak Jackson, “Verbal Disputes and Substantiveness,” Erkenntnis 79, no. S1 (March 2014): 31–54, https://doi.org/10.1007/s10670-013-9444-5. [18] C. S. I. Jenkins, “Merely Verbal Disputes,” Erkenntnis 79, no. 1 (March 1, 2014): 11–30, https://doi.org/10.1007/s10670-013-9443-6. [19] Steven Crowell, “Existentialism,” in The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, ed. Edward N. Zalta, Summer 2020 (Metaphysics Research Lab, Stanford University, 2020), https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/sum2020/entries/existentialism/; Anita Avramides, “Other Minds,” in The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, ed. Edward N. Zalta, Winter 2020 (Metaphysics Research Lab, Stanford University, 2020), https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/win2020/entries/other-minds/. [20] Martin Heidegger, Discourse on Thinking, Harper Torchbooks (New York, NY: Harper & Row, 1969), 46. [21] Heidegger, 46. [22] Heidegger, 45. [23] Nick Zangwill, “Aesthetic Judgment,” in The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, ed. Edward N. Zalta, Winter 2021 (Metaphysics Research Lab, Stanford University, 2021), https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/win2021/entries/aesthetic-judgment/. [24] Yuriko Saito, “Aesthetics of the Everyday,” in The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, ed. Edward N. Zalta, Spring 2021 (Metaphysics Research Lab, Stanford University, 2021), https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/spr2021/entries/aesthetics-of-everyday/. [25] O’Brien, “Medical Ethics as Taught and as Practiced,” 112. [26] Farmer and Campos, “Rethinking Medical Ethics,” 20.

Introduction The term ‘resilience’ is on everyone’s lips - from politicians to community service providers to the seemingly endless supply of self-help gurus. The concept is undergoing a renaissance of sorts in contemporary Western society; but why resilience now? One possible explanation is that individuals and their communities are experiencing increased and intensified levels of adversity and hardship, necessitating the accumulation and deployment of ‘more resilience’. Whilst a strong argument could made that this is in fact the case, it would seem that the capacity to survive and thrive has been a feature of human survival and growth long before we had a name for it. Rather than an inherent characteristic, trait or set of behaviours of particularly ‘resilient’ individuals or groups, resilience has come to be viewed more as a common and everyday capacity, expressed and expressible by all people. Having researched the concept for some time now, we believe that we are only marginally closer to understanding this captivating but ultimately elusive concept. What we are fairly certain of is that resilience is more than basic survival but less than an invulnerability to adversity, resting somewhere in the middle of these two extremes. Given the increasing prevalence of populations affected by war and other disasters, we are certain however that efforts to better understand the accumulative dynamics of resilience, are now, more than ever, a vital area of public and academic concern. In our contemporary world, the concept of resilience is coming to represent a vital conceptual tool for responding to the complex challenges emerging from broad scale movements in climate change, rural and urban migration patterns, pollution, economic integration and other consequences of globalisation. In this article, the phenomenon of human resilience is defined as the cumulative build-up of both particular kinds of knowledge, skills and capabilities as well as positive affects such as hope, which sediment over time as transpersonal capacities for self-preservation and ongoing growth (Wilson). Although the accumulation of positive affect is crucial to the formation of resilience, the ability to re-imagine and utilise negative affects, events and environmental limitations, as productive cultural resources, is a reciprocal and under-researched aspect of the phenomenon. In short, we argue that resilience is the protective shield, which capacitates individuals and communities to at least deal with, and at best, overcome potential challenges, while also facilitating the realisation of hoped-for objects and outcomes. Closely tied to the formation of resilience is the lived experience of hope and hoping practices, with an important feature of resilience related to the future-oriented dimensions of hope (Parse). Yet it is important to note that the accumulation of hope, as with resilience, is not headed towards some state of invulnerability to adversity; as presumed to exist in the foundational period of psychological research on the construct (Garmezy; Werner and Smith; Werner). In contrast, we argue that the positive affective experience of hopefulness provides individuals and communities with a means of enduring the present, while the future-oriented dimensions of hope offer them an instrument for imagining a better future to come (Wilson). Given the complex, elusive and non-uniform nature of resilience, it is important to consider the continued relevance of the resilience concept. For example, is resilience too narrow a term to describe and explain the multiple capacities, strategies and resources required to survive and thrive in today’s world? Furthermore, why do some individuals and communities mobilise and respond to a crisis; and why do some collapse? In a related discussion, Ungar (Constructionist) posed the question, “Why keep the term resilience?” Terms like resilience, even strengths, empowerment and health, are a counterpoint to notions of disease and disorder that have made us look at people as glasses half empty rather than half full. Resilience reminds us that children survive and thrive in a myriad of ways, and that understanding the etiology of health is as, or more, important than studying the etiology of disease. (Ungar, Constructionist 91) This productive orientation towards health, creativity and meaning-making demonstrates the continued conceptual and existential relevance of resilience, and why it will remain a critical subject of inquiry now and into the future. Early Psychological Studies of Resilience Definitions of resilience vary considerably across disciplines and time, and according to the theoretical context or group under investigation (Harvey and Delfabro). During the 1970s and early 1980s, the developmental literature on resilience focused primarily on the “personal qualities” of “resilient children” exposed to adverse life circumstances (Garmezy Vulnerability; Masten; Rutter; Werner). From this narrow and largely individualistic viewpoint, resilience was defined as an innate “self-righting mechanism” (Werner and Smith 202). Writing from within the psychological tradition, Masten argued that the early research on resilience (Garmezy Vulnerability; Werner and Smith) regularly implied that resilient children were special or remarkable by virtue of their invulnerability to adversity. As research into resilience progressed, researchers began to acknowledge the ordinariness or everydayness of resilience-related phenomena. Furthermore, that “resilience may often derive from factors external to the child” (Luthar; Cicchetti and Becker 544). Besides the personal attributes of children, researchers within the psychological sciences also began to explore the effects of family dynamics and impacts of the broader social environment in the development of resilience. Rather than identifying which child, family or environmental factors were resilient or resilience producing, they turned their attention to how these underlying protective mechanisms facilitated positive resilience outcomes. As research evolved, resilience as an absolute or unchanging attribute made way for more relational and dynamic conceptualisations. As Luthar et al noted, “it became clear that positive adaptation despite exposure to adversity involves a developmental progression, such that new vulnerabilities and/or strengths often emerge with changing life circumstances” (543-44). Accordingly, resilience came to be viewed as a dynamic process, involving positive adaptations within contexts of adversity (Luthar et al. 543). Although closer to the operational definition of resilience argued for here, there remain a number of definitional concerns and theoretical limitations of the psychological approach; in particular, the limitation of positive adaptation to the context of significant adversity. In doing so, this definition fails to account for the subjective experience and culturally located understandings of ‘health’, ‘adversity’ and ‘adaptation’ so crucial to the formation of resilience. Our major criticism of the psychodynamic approach to resilience relates to the construction of a false dichotomy between “resilient” and “non-resilient” individuals. This dichotomy is perpetuated by psychological approaches that view resilience as a distinct construct, specific to “resilient” individuals. In combating this assumption, Ungar maintained that this bifurcation could be replaced by an understanding of mental health “as residing in all individuals even when significant impairment is present” (Thicker 352). We tend to agree. In terms of economic resilience, we must also be alert to similar false binaries that place the first and low-income world into simple, apposite positions of coping or not-coping, ‘having’ or ‘not-having’ resilience. There is evidence to indicate, for example, that emerging economies fared somewhat better than high-income nations during the global financial crisis (GFC). According to Frankel and Saravelos, several low-income nations attained better rates of gross domestic product GDP, though the impacts on the respective populations were found to be equally hard (Lane and Milesi-Ferretti). While the reasons for this are broad and complex, a study by Kose and Prasad found that a broad set of policy tools had been developed that allowed for greater flexibility in responding to the crisis. Positive Affect Despite Adversity An emphasis on deficit, suffering and pathology among marginalised populations such as refugees and young people has detracted from culturally located strengths. As Te Riele explained, marginalised young people residing in conditions of adversity are often identified within “at-risk” discourses. These social support frameworks have tended to highlight pathologies and antisocial behaviours rather than cultural competencies. This attitude towards marginalised “at risk” young people has been perpetuated by psychotherapeutic discourse that has tended to focus on the relief of suffering and treatment of individual pathologies (Davidson and Shahar). By focusing on pain avoidance and temporary relief, we may be missing opportunities to better understand the productive role of ‘negative’ affects and bodily sensations in alerting us to underlying conditions, in need of attention or change. A similar deficit approach is undertaken through education – particularly civics – where young people are treated as ‘citizens in waiting’ (Collin). From this perspective, citizenship is something that young people are expected to ‘grow into’, and until that point, are seen as lacking any political agency or ability to respond to adversity (Holdsworth). Although a certain amount of internal discomfort is required to promote change, Davidson and Shahar noted that clinical psychotherapists still “for the most part, envision an eventual state of happiness – both for our patients and for ourselves, described as free of tension, pain, disease, and suffering” (229). In challenging this assumption, they asked, But if desiring-production is essential to what makes us human, would we not expect happiness or health to involve the active, creative process of producing? How can one produce anything while sitting, standing, or lying still? (229) A number of studies exploring the affective experiences of migrants have contested the embedded psychological assumption that happiness or well-being “stands apart” from experiences of suffering (Crocker and Major; Fozdar and Torezani; Ruggireo and Taylor; Tsenkova, Love, Singer and Ryff). A concern for Ahmed is how much the turn to happiness or happiness turn “depends on the very distinction between good and bad feelings that presume bad feelings are backward and conservative and good feelings are forward and progressive” (Happiness 135). Highlighting the productive potential of unhappy affects, Ahmed suggested that the airing of unhappy affects in their various forms provides people with “an alternative set of imaginings of what might count as a good or at least better life” (Happiness 135). An interesting feature of refugee narratives is the paradoxical relationship between negative migration experiences and the reporting of a positive life outlook. In a study involving former Yugoslavian, Middle Eastern and African refugees, Fozdar and Torezani investigated the “apparent paradox between high-levels of discrimination experienced by humanitarian migrants to Australia in the labour market and everyday life” (30), and the reporting of positive wellbeing. The interaction between negative experiences of discrimination and reports of wellbeing suggested a counter-intuitive propensity among refugees to adapt to and make sense of their migration experiences in unique, resourceful and life-affirming ways. In a study of unaccompanied Sudanese youth living in the United States, Goodman reported that, “none of the participants displayed a sense of victimhood at the time of the interviews” (1182). Although individual narratives did reflect a sense of victimisation and helplessness relating to the enormity of past trauma, the young participants viewed themselves primarily as survivors and agents of their own future. Goodman further stated that the tone of the refugee testimonials was not bitter: “Instead, feelings of brotherliness, kindness, and hope prevailed” (1183). Such response patterns among refugees and trauma survivors indicate a similar resilience-related capacity to positively interpret and derive meaning from negative migration experiences and associated emotions. It is important to point out that demonstrations of resilience appear loosely proportional to the amount or intensity of adverse life events experienced. However, resilience is not expressed or employed uniformly among individuals or communities. Some respond in a resilient manner, while others collapse. On this point, an argument could be made that collapse and breakdown is a built-in aspect of resilience, and necessary for renewal and ongoing growth. Cultures of Resilience In a cross continental study of communities living and relying on waterways for their daily subsistence, Arvanitakis is involved in a broader research project aiming to understand why some cultures collapse and why others survive in the face of adversity. The research aims to look beyond systems of resilience, and proposes the term ‘cultures of resilience’ to describe the situated strategies of these communities for coping with a variety of human-induced environmental challenges. More specifically, the concept of ‘cultures of resilience’ assists in explaining the specific ways individuals and communities are responding to the many stresses and struggles associated with living on the ‘front-line’ of major waterways that are being impacted by large-scale, human-environment development and disasters. Among these diverse locations are Botany Bay (Australia), Sankhla Lake (Thailand), rural Bangladesh, the Ganges (India), and Chesapeake Bay (USA). These communities face very different challenges in a range of distinctive contexts. Within these settings, we have identified communities that are prospering despite the emerging challenges while others are in the midst of collapse and dispersion. In recognising the specific contexts of each of these communities, the researchers are working to uncover a common set of narratives of resilience and hope. We are not looking for the ’magic ingredient’ of resilience, but what kinds of strategies these communities have employed and what can they learn from each other. One example that is being pursued is a community of Thai rice farmers who have reinstated ceremonies to celebrate successful harvests by sharing in an indigenous rice species in the hope of promoting a shared sense of community. These were communities on the cusp of collapse brought on by changing economic and environmental climates, but who have reversed this trend by employing a series of culturally located practices. The vulnerability of these communities can be traced back to the 1960s ‘green revolution’ when they where encouraged by local government authorities to move to ‘white rice’ species to meet export markets. In the process they were forced to abandoned their indigenous rice varieties and abandon traditional seed saving practices (Shiva, Sengupta). Since then, the rice monocultures have been found to be vulnerable to the changing climate as well as other environmental influences. The above ceremonies allowed the farmers to re-discover the indigenous rice species and plant them alongside the ‘white rice’ for export creating a more robust harvest. The indigenous species are kept for local consumption and trade, while the ‘white rice’ is exported, giving the farmers access to both the international markets and income and the local informal economies. In addition, the indigenous rice acts as a form of ‘insurance’ against the vagaries of international trade (Shiva). Informants stated that the authorities that once encouraged them to abandon indigenous rice species and practices are now working with the communities to re-instigate these. This has created a partnership between the local government-funded research centres, government institutions and the farmers. A third element that the informants discussed was the everyday practices that prepare a community to face these challenges and allow it recover in partnership with government, including formal and informal communication channels. These everyday practices create a culture of reciprocity where the challenges of the community are seen to be those of the individual. This is not meant to romanticise these communities. In close proximity, there are also communities engulfed in despair. Such communities are overwhelmed with the various challenges described above of changing rural/urban settlement patterns, pollution and climate change, and seem to have lacked the cultural and social capital to respond. By contrasting the communities that have demonstrated resilience and those that have not been overwhelmed, it is becoming increasingly obvious that there is no single 'magic' ingredient of resilience. What exist are various constituted factors that involve a combination of community agency, social capital, government assistance and structures of governance. The example of the rice farmers highlights three of these established practices: working across formal and informal economies; crossing localised and expert knowledge as well as the emergence of everyday practices that promote social capital. As such, while financial transactions occur that link even the smallest of communities to the global economy, there is also the everyday exchange of cultural practices, which is described elsewhere by Arvanitakis as 'the cultural commons': visions of hope, trust, shared intellect, and a sense of safety. Reflecting the refugee narratives citied above, these communities also report a positive life outlook, refusing to see themselves as victims. There is a propensity among members of these communities to adapt an outlook of hope and survival. Like the response patterns among refugees and trauma survivors, initial research is confirming a resilience-related capacity to interpret the various challenges that have been confronted, and see their survival as reason to hope. Future Visions, Hopeful Visions Hope is a crucial aspect of resilience, as it represents a present- and future-oriented mode of situated defence against adversity. The capacity to hope can increase one’s powers of action despite a complex range of adversities experienced in everyday life and during particularly difficult times. The term “hope” is commonly employed in a tokenistic way, as a “nice” rhetorical device in the mind-body-spirit or self-help literature or as a strategic instrument in increasingly empty domestic and international political vocabularies. With a few notable exceptions (Anderson; Bloch; Godfrey; Hage; Marcel; Parse; Zournazi), the concept of hope has received only modest attention from within sociology and cultural studies. Significant increases in the prevalence of war and disaster-affected populations makes qualitative research into the lived experience of hope a vital subject of academic interest. Parse observed among health care professionals a growing attention to “the lived experience of hope”, a phenomenon which has significant consequences for health and the quality of one’s life (vvi). Hope is an integral aspect of resilience as it can act as a mechanism for coping and defense in relation to adversity. Interestingly, it is during times of hardship and adversity that the phenomenological experience of hope seems to “kick in” or “switch on”. With similarities to the “taken-for-grantedness” of resilience in everyday life, Anderson observed that hope and hoping are taken-for-granted aspects of the affective fabric of everyday life in contemporary Western culture. Although the lived experience of hope, namely, hopefulness, is commonly conceptualised as a “future-oriented” state of mind, the affectivity of hope, in the present moment of hoping, has important implications in terms of resilience formation. The phrase, the “lived deferral of hope” is an idea that Wilson has developed elsewhere which hopefully brings together and holds in creative tension the two dominant perspectives on hope as a lived experience in the present and a deferred, future-oriented practice of hoping and hopefulness. Zournazi defined hope as a “basic human condition that involves belief and trust in the world” (12). She argued that the meaning of hope is “located in the act of living, the ordinary elements of everyday life” and not in “some future or ideal sense” (18). Furthermore, she proposed a more “everyday” hope which “is not based on threat or deferral of gratification”, but is related to joy “as another kind of contentment – the affirmation of life as it emerges and in the transitions and movements of our everyday lives and relationships” (150). While qualitative studies focusing on the everyday experience of hope have reinvigorated academic research on the concept of hope, our concept of “the lived deferral of hope” brings together Zournazi’s “everyday hope” and the future-oriented dimensions of hope and hoping practices, so important to the formation of resilience. Along similar lines to Ahmed’s (Happy Objects) suggestion that happiness “involves a specific kind of intentionality” that is “end-orientated”, practices of hope are also intentional and “end-orientated” (33). If objects of hope are a means to happiness, as Ahmed wrote, “in directing ourselves towards this or that [hope] object we are aiming somewhere else: toward a happiness that is presumed to follow” (Happy Objects 34), in other words, to a hope that is “not yet present”. It is the capacity to imagine alternative possibilities in the future that can help individuals and communities endure adverse experiences in the present and inspire confidence in the ongoingness of their existence. Although well-intentioned, Zournazi’s concept of an “everyday hope” seemingly ignores the fact that in contexts of daily threat, loss and death there is often a distinct lack of affirmative or affirmable things. In these contexts, the deferral of joy and gratification, located in the future acquisition of objects, outcomes or ideals, can be the only means of getting through particularly difficult events or circumstances. One might argue that hope in hopeless situations can be disabling; however, we contend that hope is always enabling to some degree, as it can facilitate alternative imaginings and temporary affective relief in even in the most hopeless situations. Hope bears similarity to resilience in terms of its facilities for coping and endurance. Likewise the formation and maintenance of hope can help individuals and communities endure and cope with adverse events or circumstances. The symbolic dimension of hope capacitates individuals and communities to endure the present without the hoped-for outcomes and to live with the uncertainty of their attainment. In the lives of refugees, for example, the imaginative dimension of hope is directly related to resilience in that it provides them with the ability to respond to adversity in productive and life-affirming ways. For Oliver, hope “provides continuity between the past and the present…giving power to find meaning in the worst adversity” (in Parse 16). In terms of making sense of the migration and resettlement experiences of refugees and other migrants, Lynch proposed a useful definition of hope as “the fundamental knowledge and feeling that there is a way out of difficulty, that things can work out” (32). As it pertains to everyday mobility and life routes, Parse considered hope to be “essential to one’s becoming” (32). She maintained that hope is a lived experience and “a way of propelling self toward envisioned possibilities in everyday encounters with the world” (p. 12). Expanding on her definition of the lived experience of hope, Parse stated, “Hope is anticipating possibilities through envisioning the not-yet in harmoniously living the comfort-discomfort of everydayness while unfolding a different perspective of an expanding view” (15). From Nietzsche’s “classically dark version of hope” (in Hage 11), Parse’s “positive” definition of hope as a propulsion to envisaged possibilities would in all likelihood be defined as “the worst of all evils, for it protracts the torment of man”. Hage correctly pointed out that both the positive and negative perspectives perceive hope “as a force that keeps us going in life” (11). Parse’s more optimistic vision of hope as propulsion to envisaged possibilities links nicely to what Arvanitakis described as an ‘active hope’. According to him, the idea of ‘active hope’ is not only a vision that a better world is possible, but also a sense of agency that our actions can make this happen. Conclusion As we move further into the 21st century, humankind will be faced with a series of traumas, many of which are as yet unimagined. To meet these challenges, we, as a global collective, will need to develop specific capacities and resources for coping, endurance, innovation, and hope, all of which are involved the formation of resilience (Wilson 269). Although the accumulation of resilience at an individual level is important, our continued existence, survival, and prosperity lie in the strength and collective will of many. As Wittgenstein wrote, the strength of a thread “resides not in the fact that some one fibre runs through its whole length, but in the overlapping of many fibres” (xcv). If resilience can be accumulated at the level of the individual, it follows that it can be accumulated as a form of capital at the local, national, and international levels in very real and meaningful ways. 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IntroductionThis essay considers three design projects as microprotests. Reflecting on the ways design practice can generate spaces, sites and methods of protest, we use the concept of microprotest to consider how we, as designers ourselves, can protest by scaling down, focussing, slowing down and paying attention to the edges of our practice. Design microprotest is a form of design activism that is always collaborative, takes place within a community, and involves careful translation of a political conversation. While microprotest can manifest in any design discipline, in this essay we focus on visual communication design. In particular we consider the deep, reflexive practice of listening as the foundation of microprotests in visual communication design.While small in scale and fleeting in duration, these projects express rich and deep political engagements through conversations that create and maintain safe spaces. While many design theorists (Julier; Fuad-Luke; Clarke; Irwin et al.) have done important work to contextualise activist design as a broad movement with overlapping branches (social design, community design, eco-design, participatory design, critical design, and transition design etc.), the scope of our study takes ‘micro’ as a starting point. We focus on the kind of activism that takes shape in moments of careful design; these are moments when designers move politically, rather than necessarily within political movements. These microprotests respond to community needs through design more than they articulate a broad activist design movement. As such, the impacts of these microprotests often go unnoticed outside of the communities within which they take place. We propose, and test in this essay, a mode of analysis for design microprotests that takes design activism as a starting point but pays more attention to community and translation than designers and their global reach.In his analysis of design activism, Julier proposes “four possible conceptual tactics for the activist designer that are also to be found in particular qualities in the mainstream design culture and economy” (Julier, Introduction 149). We use two of these tactics to begin exploring a selection of attributes common to design microprotests: temporality – which describes the way that speed, slowness, progress and incompletion are dealt with; and territorialisation – which describes the scale at which responsibility and impact is conceived (227). In each of three projects to which we apply these tactics, one of us had a role as a visual communicator. As such, the research is framed by the knowledge creating paradigm described by Jonas as “research through design”.We also draw on other conceptualisations of design activism, and the rich design literature that has emerged in recent times to challenge the colonial legacies of design studies (Schultz; Tristan et al.; Escobar). Some analyses of design activism already focus on the micro or the minor. For example, in their design of social change within organisations as an experimental and iterative process, Lensjkold, Olander and Hasse refer to Deleuze and Guattari’s minoritarian: “minor design activism is ‘a position in co-design engagements that strives to continuously maintain experimentation” (67). Like minor activism, design microprotests are linked to the continuous mobilisation of actors and networks in processes of collective experimentation. However microprotests do not necessarily focus on organisational change. Rather, they create new (and often tiny) spaces of protest within which new voices can be heard and different kinds of listening can be done.In the first of our three cases, we discuss a representation of transdisciplinary listening. This piece of visual communication is a design microprotest in itself. This section helps to frame what we mean by a safe space by paying attention to the listening mode of communication. In the next sections we explore temporality and territorialisation through the design microprotests Just Spaces which documents the collective imagining of safe places for LBPQ (Lesbian, Bisexual, Pansexual, and Queer) women and non-binary identities through a series of graphic objects and Conversation Piece, a book written, designed and published over three days as a proposition for a collective future. A Representation of Transdisciplinary ListeningThe design artefact we present in this section is a representation of listening and can be understood as a microprotest emerging from a collective experiment that materialises firstly as a visual document asking questions of the visual communication discipline and its role in a research collaboration and also as a mirror for the interdisciplinary team to reflexively develop transdisciplinary perspectives on the risks associated with the release of environmental flows in the upper reaches of Hawkesbury Nepean River in NSW, Australia. This research project was funded through a Challenge Grant Scheme to encourage transdisciplinarity within the University. The project team worked with the Hawkesbury Nepean Catchment Management Authority in response to the question: What are the risks to maximising the benefits expected from increased environmental flows? Listening and visual communication design practice are inescapably linked. Renown American graphic designer and activist Sheila de Bretteville describes a consciousness and a commitment to listening as an openness, rather than antagonism and argument. Fiumara describes listening as nascent or an emerging skill and points to listening as the antithesis of the Western culture of saying and expression.For a visual communication designer there is a very specific listening that can be described as visual hearing. This practice materialises the act of hearing through a visualisation of the information or knowledge that is shared. This act of visual hearing is a performative process tracing the actors’ perspectives. This tracing is used as content, which is then translated into a transcultural representation constituted by the designerly act of perceiving multiple perspectives. The interpretation contributes to a shared project of transdisciplinary understanding.This transrepresentation (Fig. 1) is a manifestation of a small interaction among a research team comprised of a water engineer, sustainable governance researcher, water resource management researcher, environmental economist and a designer. This visualisation is a materialisation of a structured conversation in response to the question What are the risks to maximising the benefits expected from increased environmental flows? It represents a small contribution that provides an opportunity for reflexivity and documents a moment in time in response to a significant challenge. In this translation of a conversation as a visual representation, a design microprotest is made against reduction, simplification, antagonism and argument. This may seem intangible, but as a protest through design, “it involves the development of artifacts that exist in real time and space, it is situated within everyday contexts and processes of social and economic life” (Julier 226). This representation locates conversation in a visual order that responds to particular categorisations of the political, the institutional, the socio-economic and the physical in a transdisciplinary process that focusses on multiple perspectives.Figure 1: Transrepresentation of responses by an interdisciplinary research team to the question: What are the risks to maximising the benefits expected from increased environmental flows in the Upper Hawkesbury Nepean River? (2006) Just Spaces: Translating Safe SpacesListening is the foundation of design microprotest. Just Spaces emerged out of a collaborative listening project It’s OK! An Anthology of LBPQ (Lesbian, Bisexual, Pansexual and Queer) Women’s and Non-Binary Identities’ Stories and Advice. By visually communicating the way a community practices supportive listening (both in a physical form as a book and as an online resource), It’s OK! opens conversations about how LBPQ women and non-binary identities can imagine and help facilitate safe spaces. These conversations led to thinking about the effects of breaches of safe spaces on young LBPQ women and non-binary identities. In her book The Cultural Politics of Emotion, Sara Ahmed presents Queer Feelings as a new way of thinking about Queer bodies and the way they use and impress upon space. She makes an argument for creating and imagining new ways of creating and navigating public and private spaces. As a design microprotest, Just Spaces opens up Queer ways of navigating space through a process Ahmed describes as “the ‘non-fitting’ or discomfort .... an opening up which can be difficult and exciting” (Ahmed 154). Just Spaces is a series of workshops, translated into a graphic design object, and presented at an exhibition in the stairwell of the library at the University of Technology Sydney. It protests the requirement of navigating heteronormative environments by suggesting ‘Queer’ ways of being in and designing in space. The work offers solutions, suggestions, and new ways of doing and making by offering design methods as tools of microprotest to its participants. For instance, Just Spaces provides a framework for sensitive translation, through the introduction of a structure that helps build personas based on the game Dungeons and Dragons (a game popular among certain LGBTQIA+ communities in Sydney). Figure 2: Exhibition: Just Spaces, held at UTS Library from 5 to 27 April 2018. By focussing the design process on deep listening and rendering voices into visual translations, these workshops responded to Linda Tuhiwai Smith’s idea of the “outsider within”, articulating the way research should be navigated in vulnerable groups that have a history of being exploited as part of research. Through reciprocity and generosity, trust was generated in the design process which included a shared dinner; opening up participant-controlled safe spaces.To open up and explore ideas of discomfort and safety, two workshops were designed to provide safe and sensitive spaces for the group of seven LBPQ participants and collaborators. Design methods such as drawing, group imagining and futuring using a central prototype as a prompt drew out discussions of safe spaces. The prototype itself was a small folded house (representative of shelter) printed with a number of questions, such as:Our spaces are often unsafe. We take that as a given. But where do these breaches of safety take place? How was your safe space breached in those spaces?The workshops resulted in tangible objects, made by the participants, but these could not be made public because of privacy implications. So the next step was to use visual communication design to create sensitive and honest visual translations of the conversations. The translations trace images from the participants’ words, sketches and notes. For example, handwritten notes are transcribed and reproduced with a font chosen by the designer based on the tone of the comment and by considering how design can retain the essence of person as well as their anonymity. The translations focus on the micro: the micro breaches of safety; the interactions that take place between participants and their environment; and the everyday denigrating experiences that LBPQ women and non-binary identities go through on an ongoing basis. This translation process requires precise skills, sensitivity, care and deep knowledge of context. These skills operate at the smallest of scales through minute observation and detailed work. This micro-ness translates to the potential for truthfulness and care within the community, as it establishes a precedent through the translations for others to use and adapt for their own communities.The production of the work for exhibition also occurred on a micro level, using a Risograph, a screenprinting photocopier often found in schools, community groups and activist spaces. The machine (ME9350) used for this project is collectively owned by a co-op of Sydney creatives called Rizzeria. Each translation was printed only five times on butter paper. Butter paper is a sensitive surface but difficult to work with making the process slow and painstaking and with a lot of care.All aspects of this process and project are small: the pieced-together translations made by assembling segments of conversations; zines that can be kept in a pocket and read intimately; the group of participants; and the workshop and exhibition spaces. These small spaces of safety and their translations make possible conversations but also enable other safe spaces that move and intervene as design microprotests. Figure 3: Piecing the translations together. Figure 4: Pulling the translation off the drum; this was done every print making the process slow and requiring gentleness. This project was and is about slowing down, listening and visually translating in order to generate and imagine safe spaces. In this slowness, as Julier describes “...the activist is working in a more open-ended way that goes beyond the materialization of the design” (229). It creates methods for listening and collaboratively generating ways to navigate spaces that are fraught with micro conflict. As an act of territorialisation, it created tiny and important spaces as a design microprotest. Conversation Piece: A Fast and Slow BookConversation Piece is an experiment in collective self-publishing. It was made over three days by Frontyard, an activist space in Marrickville, NSW, involved in community “futuring”. Futuring for Frontyard is intended to empower people with tools to imagine and enact preferred futures, in contrast to what design theorist Tony Fry describes as “defuturing”, the systematic destruction of possible futures by design. Materialised as a book, Conversation Piece is also an act of collective futuring. It is a carefully designed process for producing dialogues between unlikely parties using an image archive as a starting point. Conversation Piece was designed with the book sprint format as a starting point. Founded by software designer Adam Hyde, book sprints are a method of collectively generating a book in just a few days then publishing it. Book sprints are related to the programming sprints common in agile software development or Scrum, which are often used to make FLOSS (Free and Open Source Software) manuals. Frontyard had used these techniques in a previous project to develop the Non Cash Arts Asset Platform.Conversation Piece was also modeled on two participatory books made during sprints that focussed on articulating alternative futures. Collaborative Futures was made during Transmediale in 2009, and Futurish: Thinking Out Loud about Futures (2015).The design for Conversation Piece began when Frontyard was invited to participate in the Hobiennale in 2017, a free festival emerging from the “national climate of uncertainty within the arts, influenced by changes to the structure of major arts organisations and diminishing funding opportunities.” The Hobiennale was the first Biennale held in Hobart, Tasmania, but rather than producing a standard large art survey, it focussed on artist-run spaces and initiatives, emergant practices, and marginalised voices in the arts. Frontyard is not an artist collective and does not work for commissions. Rather, the response to the invitation was based on how much energy there was in the group to contribute to Hobiennale. At Frontyard one of the ways collective and individual energy is accounted for is using spoon theory, a disability metaphor used to describe the planning that many people have to do to conserve and ration energy reserves in their daily lives (Miserandino). As outlined in the glossary of Conversation Piece, spoon theory is:A way of accounting for our emotional or physical energy and therefore our ability to participate in activities. Spoon theory can be used to collaborate with care and avoid guilt and burn out. Usually spoon theory is applied at an individual level, but it can also be used by organisations. For example, Hobiennale had enough spoons to participate in the Hobiennale so we decided to give it a go. (180)To make to book, Frontyard invited visitors to Hobiennale to participate in a series of open conversations that began with the photographic archive of the organisation over the two years of its existence. During a prototyping session, Frontyard designed nine diagrams that propositioned ways to begin conversations by combining images in different ways. Figure 5: Diagram 9. Conversation Piece: p.32-33One of the purposes of the diagrams, and the book itself, was to bring attention to the micro dynamics of conversation over time, and to create a safe space to explore the implications of these. While the production process and the book itself is micro (ten copies were printed and immediately given away), the decisions made in regards to licensing (a creative commons license is used), distribution (via the Internet Archive) and content generation (through participatory design processes) the project’s commitment to open design processes (Van Abel, Evers, Klaassen and Troxler) mean its impact is unpredictable. Counter-logical to the conventional copyright of books, open design borrows its definition - and at times its technologies and here its methods - from open source software design, to advocate the production of design objects based on fluid and shared circulation of design information. The tension between the abundance produced by an open approach to making, and the attention to the detail of relationships produced by slowing down and scaling down communication processes is made apparent in Conversation Piece:We challenge ourselves at Frontyard to keep bureaucratic processes as minimal an open as possible. We don’t have an application or acquittal process: we prefer to meet people over a cup of tea. A conversation is a way to work through questions. (7)As well as focussing on the micro dynamics of conversations, this projects protests the authority of archives. It works to dismantle the hierarchies of art and publishing through the design of an open, transparent, participatory publishing process. It offers a range of propositions about alternative economies, the agency of people working together at small scales, and the many possible futures in the collective imaginaries of people rethinking time, outcomes, results and progress.The contributors to the book are those in conversation – a complex networks of actors that are relationally configured and themselves in constant change, so as Julier explains “the object is subject to constant transformations, either literally or in its meaning. The designer is working within this instability.” (230) This is true of all design, but in this design microprotest, Frontyard works within this instability in order to redirect it. The book functions as a series of propositions about temporality and territorialisation, and focussing on micro interventions rather than radical political movements. In one section, two Frontyard residents offer a story of migration that also serves as a recipe for purslane soup, a traditional Portuguese dish (Rodriguez and Brison). Another lifts all the images of hand gestures from the Frontyard digital image archive and represents them in a photo essay. Figure 6: Talking to Rocks. Conversation Piece: p.143ConclusionThis article is an invitation to momentarily suspend the framing of design activism as a global movement in order to slow down the analysis of design protests and start paying attention to the brief moments and small spaces of protest that energise social change in design practice. We offered three examples of design microprotests, opening with a representation of transdisciplinary listening in order to frame design as a way if interpreting and listening as well as generating and producing. The two following projects we describe are collective acts of translation: small, momentary conversations designed into graphic forms that can be shared, reproduced, analysed, and remixed. Such protests have their limitations. Beyond the artefacts, the outcomes generated by design microprotests are difficult to identify. While they push and pull at the temporality and territorialisation of design, they operate at a small scale. How design microprotests connect to global networks of protest is an important question yet to be explored. The design practices of transdisciplinary listening, Queer Feelings and translations, and collaborative book sprinting, identified in these design microprotests change the thoughts and feelings of those who participate in ways that are impossible to measure in real time, and sometimes cannot be measured at all. Yet these practices are important now, as they shift the way designers design, and the way others understand what is designed. By identifying the common attributes of design microprotests, we can begin to understand the way necessary political conversations emerge in design practice, for instance about safe spaces, transdisciplinarity, and archives. Taking a research through design approach these can be understood over time, rather than just in the moment, and in specific territories that belong to community. They can be reconfigured into different conversations that change our world for the better. References Ahmed, Sara. “Queer Feelings.” The Cultural Politics of Emotion. Edinburgh: Edinburgh UP, 2004. 143-167.Clarke, Alison J. "'Actions Speak Louder': Victor Papanek and the Legacy of Design Activism." Design and Culture 5.2 (2013): 151-168.De Bretteville, Sheila L. Design beyond Design: Critical Reflection and the Practice of Visual Communication. Ed. Jan van Toorn. Maastricht: Jan van Eyck Akademie Editions, 1998. 115-127.Evers, L., et al. Open Design Now: Why Design Cannot Remain Exclusive. Amsterdam: BIS Publishers, 2011.Escobar, Arturo. Designs for the Pluriverse: Radical Interdependence, Autonomy, and the Making of Worlds. Duke UP, 2018.Fiumara, G.C. The Other Side of Language: A Philosophy of Listening. London: Routledge, 1995.Fuad-Luke, Alastair. Design Activism: Beautiful Strangeness for a Sustainable World. London: Routledge, 2013.Frontyard Projects. 2018. Conversation Piece. Marrickville: Frontyard Projects. Fry, Tony. A New Design Philosophy: An Introduction to Defuturing. Sydney: UNSW P, 1999.Hanna, Julian, Alkan Chipperfield, Peter von Stackelberg, Trevor Haldenby, Nik Gaffney, Maja Kuzmanovic, Tim Boykett, Tina Auer, Marta Peirano, and Istvan Szakats. Futurish: Thinking Out Loud about Futures. Linz: Times Up, 2014. Irwin, Terry, Gideon Kossoff, and Cameron Tonkinwise. "Transition Design Provocation." Design Philosophy Papers 13.1 (2015): 3-11.Julier, Guy. "From Design Culture to Design Activism." Design and Culture 5.2 (2013): 215-236.Julier, Guy. "Introduction: Material Preference and Design Activism." Design and Culture 5.2 (2013): 145-150.Jonas, W. “Exploring the Swampy Ground.” Mapping Design Research. Eds. S. Grand and W. Jonas. Basel: Birkhauser, 2012. 11-41.Kagan, S. Art and Sustainability. Bielefeld: Transcript, 2011.Lenskjold, Tau Ulv, Sissel Olander, and Joachim Halse. “Minor Design Activism: Prompting Change from Within.” Design Issues 31.4 (2015): 67–78. doi:10.1162/DESI_a_00352.Max-Neef, M.A. "Foundations of Transdisciplinarity." Ecological Economics 53.53 (2005): 5-16.Miserandino, C. "The Spoon Theory." <http://www.butyoudontlooksick.com>.Nicolescu, B. "Methodology of Transdisciplinarity – Levels of Reality, Logic of the Included Middle and Complexity." Transdisciplinary Journal of Engineering and Science 1.1 (2010): 19-38.Palmer, C., J. Gothe, C. Mitchell, K. Sweetapple, S. McLaughlin, G. Hose, M. Lowe, H. Goodall, T. Green, D. Sharma, S. Fane, K. Brew, and P. Jones. “Finding Integration Pathways: Developing a Transdisciplinary (TD) Approach for the Upper Nepean Catchment.” Proceedings of the 5th Australian Stream Management Conference: Australian Rivers: Making a Difference. Thurgoona, NSW: Charles Sturt University, 2008.Rodriguez and Brison. "Purslane Soup." Conversation Piece. Eds. Frontyard Projects. Marrickville: Frontyard Projects, 2018. 34-41.Schultz, Tristan, et al. "What Is at Stake with Decolonizing Design? A Roundtable." Design and Culture 10.1 (2018): 81-101.Smith, Linda Tuhiwai. Decolonising Methodologies: Research and Indigenous Peoples. New York: ZED Books, 1998. Van Abel, Bas, et al. Open Design Now: Why Design Cannot Remain Exclusive. Bis Publishers, 2014.Wing Sue, Derald. Microaggressions in Everyday Life: Race, Gender, and Sexual Orientation. London: John Wiley & Sons, 2010. XV-XX.

In April 2022, I found myself in the Harold Pinter Theatre on the West End, waiting to watch Jodie Comer star as protagonist Tessa Ensler in Suzie Miller’s Prima Facie. Surprised that after two years of on-and-off-again lockdowns due to COVID-19, I had finally made it all the way overseas to see this Australian play on the British stage, I asked the person next to me if they were excited to see the show. She was a young, twenty-something woman who smiled and said, “I can’t wait to see Jodie Comer in the flesh”. I asked what she knew about the play, and she told me a friend had given her a ticket because she was a Jodie Comer fan and that she did not know anything about the play before coming tonight. I was apprehensive on her behalf, knowing she was about to see a profound performance of a woman processing her own rape on stage, without forewarning. I realised in this moment how far this play had come in a brief period, from its first small run at the Stables Theatre in Sydney to London’s West End, in spite of a global pandemic. After the play ended, I turned to ask my neighbour what she thought. She was crying. After several moments, she praised Comer’s performance, launching into her thoughts on how powerful this play was, how profound an impact it could have for discussions of sexual assault. Prima Facie’s international success, emerging in the wake of the #MeToo movement and COVID-19 pandemic, seems like no coincidence. The negative impact of these two cataclysmic and simultaneous—in that they have impacted and intersected in Western society since their initial emergence—events on the collective health and wellbeing of society cannot be understated (Sehrbrock). They highlight the need to consider how we can enact change within our structural systems to foster frameworks that support our most vulnerable. If we acknowledge the potential for contemporary theatre as a site for political change, we can evaluate its vital role in the wake of such events in framing the problematic issues that exist within society, such as rape culture, as something we can and should critically reflect upon; something Prima Facie has the power to do. While Prima Facie does not have the ability to lessen the impact of COVID-19, its run on the West End marked the beginning of a return—in Western countries at least—to live theatre and events, and as such, a return to the commentary on life and society that theatre can provide. Leading theatre scholar Lisa Fitzpatrick asserts that contemporary rape plays “emerge from personal and collective experience” (220), showing us that contemporary theatre like Prima Facie is created both because of, and to provide a discourse on, real-world situations. This article will argue that Prima Facie has immense value in reshaping what wellbeing means to us in light of these global events—particularly in relation to the #MeToo Movement, which centred women's voices and experiences in contemporary legal and political spheres—and thus shows the possibility for shifting policies, practices, and perceptions to promote and protect the self. The play expertly interrogates the political, legal, and social systems in which those in a liberal democracy, like Australia—and by extension, the UK and USA—all live; those which arguably have been established with the overall wellbeing and benefit of society in mind. The play’s protagonist, Tessa Ensler, is an accomplished criminal barrister who has built her career representing defendants accused of sexual assault. When Tessa herself is the victim of a rape, she faces the reality that society’s legal and political systems, while pursuing 'legal truth’—the idea that truth in a courtroom is often shaped by cultural beliefs and perceptions, rather than objective truth (Tidmarsh and Hamilton 2)—, do not make adequate adjustments for a woman’s lived experience of sexual assault. Shannon Taylor elaborates on this from her own experience as a sexual assault victim when she states that fact is capitulated and, under the male gaze of patriarchy and arguments of legal dialect where concepts of truth, morality, ethics and justice are foreign entities, the experience, the evidence of survivors is oftentimes rendered useless, or at best fragmented, diluted, sanitised, modified. (Taylor 64) Victims of sexual assault are in a unique position as the complainant and (usually) sole witness in a prosecution case and thus bear a greater burden than many other types of crimes (Taslitz 6). These cases can fail to recognise the trauma undergone by a woman in such a position, and the struggle to provide convincing evidence in legal prosecution—or, as in most cases, absolution—of the defendant. Moreover, the staggeringly low conviction rate for sexual assault, which sits at less than one percent (Daly and Bouhours 566), does not bode well for an alleged victim’s confidence in reporting such a crime, or agreeing to stand trial if an eventual prosecution were to happen. The audience is positioned to witness Tessa peel back the patriarchal layers of the legal system and look at the socio-cultural barriers that have held victims of sexual assault back from achieving justice: “we do not interrogate the law’s own assumptions, instead we persist in interrogating the victim … there cannot be any more excuses. It must change” (Miller 93). Thus, the spectators of Prima Facie are left with the play’s final words, “something has to change” (Miller 97), lingering on, challenging them to conceive of a system where the wellbeing of sexual assault victims is prioritised alongside the pursuit of legal truth. It ultimately calls for a revision of the systems that exist, and for the promotion of significant, systemic change, both to better the wellbeing of individual victims, but also our society as a whole. Miller attacks these systems in a strategic manner, persuading the audience into sharing in this belief that for society to achieve wellbeing for all its members, it must ameliorate the parts that neglect and damage our most vulnerable. Tessa’s journey over the course of the play has the power to threaten these systems within society, highlighting the ways in which they expose victims of sexual assault to re-traumatisation, social rejection, and a statistically likely loss in court (Spohn 89). Tessa’s story arc is presented to the audience as symptomatic of the systems—specifically the law—that uphold problematic representations of rape and its victims in society. Tessa is first presented to the audience as a young, determined criminal barrister with an uncompromising stance towards the sexual assault cases she takes on. She argues that it is not her job to determine if the crime happened, but rather “find holes in the case and keep the police honest. Protect society” (Miller 31). Tessa holds firm to the belief that the law is fair and just, that innocent until proven guilty is “the bedrock of how you keep a society civilised” (Miller 30) and “if a few guilty people get off then it’s because the job wasn’t done well enough by the prosecutor and the police” (Miller 35). The audience watch Tessa cross-examine alleged victims of rape; doing so with disarming frankness, posturing that she is testing the law, “test[ing] her word, her version of the story” (Miller 41). In reality, she is conforming to the long-held socio-cultural belief that, despite rape being a deeply personal trauma against oneself, complainants must remain clear and “composed” (Miller 41) to have a chance at winning their case within the rules of the law, upheld via gendered scripts of what a rape victim should look like (Donat and D’Emilio; Fraser; Herman; Ullman). Feminist scholar Tara Roeder grapples with this struggle for women who testify in rape cases, as they “will indeed find themselves under intense pressure to tell clear, concise, and coherent accounts of the violence they have undergone” (18), which can serve to challenge and deny their experience if not presented in the neat package that the legal system demands. This ideology begins to waiver when Tessa is sexually assaulted by her colleague Julian. In acting out the particulars of her own rape on stage—by not only someone Tessa knows, but someone she works with and has been dating—Tessa reminds the audience that rape is not only more pervasive and common in society than acknowledged, but that it can often happen in a way that is less clear cut than is often socially understood. Tessa becomes the voice of reason in a culturally complex issue, positioned on both ‘sides’ of the law—a defence barrister and later victim—and thus in an impossible situation of an adversarial legal system which demands that one side wins and the other loses. This highlights the problematic nature of legal processes being a game, where the ‘winner’ of the case is which lawyer tells the best version of their client’s story (Miller 35). What this system fails to acknowledge is that the reality of attending a trial—where they are in many ways positioned as being ‘on trial’—and having to recall an immense bodily and mental trauma whilst on the stand may often expose rape victims to social ostracism and denial. Additionally, in many cases the absence of corroborative evidence in a rape case is enough to tip the scales in favour of the defendant, yet this is the paradoxical nature of rape: sometimes all you have is your word against theirs. Literature and Human Rights scholar Eleni Coundouriotis unpacks the mechanics of this tension in her article “You Only Have Your Word”, making it evident that “the sexual assault complainant’s testimony has unique significance because it carries most of the burden of proof on the issue of consent” (366), and, despite being a witness to the crime being committed, their testimony can be easily dissected within a trial, and positioned to the judge or jury—depending on the case—as not true by its very nature of being a story. For legal truth, however, it must be ‘beyond reasonable doubt’ as to whether the crime was committed: a difficult thing to determine in issues of consent, as “the defence doesn’t have to prove she did not consent[,] you just have to point out that HE DID NOT KNOW there was NO CONSENT. That it was reasonable for him to think it was okay” (Miller 40). The ultimate difficulty in trying a rape case is that there will almost always be ‘reasonable’ doubt as to the events that took place. The audience sees Tessa process this in real time after she is raped, where she acknowledges the fallibility of the law—and her own previously espoused beliefs—in the attempted prosecution of alleged rapists, and in protecting the women who have been raped. It is only when Tessa faces the same system as a victim, complainant, and witness that she begins to question whether the legal system deserves her unwavering faith. Tessa realises while giving her own testimony that it is more likely that “the events described by the victim in her testimony are usually ambiguous” (Harrison et al. 27) and thus less likely to fit the ‘rape script’ expected of them. Tessa once believed that the peripheral details of a rape (such as what the victim was wearing, how her hands were positioned, how often she attempted to say no, how much she had to drink) are key to determining the legitimacy of the rape occurring. Yet as Tessa herself learns: “as a victim-survivor, let me tell you that the rape and perpetrator are vividly recalled, the peripheral details not so clearly” (Miller 94). Only upon experiencing this first-hand is Tessa—and by extension the audience—able to see that the legal system is not actually fair and just in all cases. Miller emphasises this arduous process for rape victims, reinforcing that it can be re-traumatising to “relive their humiliating experience and then doubted as to their motives for reporting a hideous crime against their person” (7). As the audience go on this journey with Tessa, they are exposed to the idea that to establish better personal and legal outcomes for rape victims, we must reshape the way in which we not only try rape cases, but how we perceive victims themselves. Tessa’s rape is portrayed as emblematic of a larger societal issue that is rooted in the structural systems that have long favoured those accused of sexual assault, rather than those victimised by it. Andrew Taslitz captures this when he states that “despite several decades of a renewed women’s movement and increasing attention to the problem of rape, judges and juries continue to be sceptical of rape, demanding greater proof than for many other types of crimes and demonstrating deep suspicion of victims” (6). Prima Facie shows the law’s inability—shaped by preconceived rape stereotypes coupled with complex patriarchal gender dynamics—to try rape cases in a way that accounts for the lived experience of women and the complicated nuances of rape. Prima Facie proposes that the law’s inadequate grasp of the victim’s mental state after the event, and inability to find ways to interrogate or prosecute the accused in a manner that protects their victims, are to its detriment. This is not to say that the solution for rape cases is to absolve victims from having to testify about their experience, but to explore other methods for pinpointing the truth without re-traumatising victims. In the writer’s note of Prima Facie, Miller reinforces this idea when she posits that “for Tessa, seeing the law for what it is, an imperfect human construct, constantly evolving within social changes, frees her to find her voice and call us all to action” (9). Prima Facie does not attempt to provide solutions, but challenges us to consider how we are complicit in the systems that do not protect some of its vulnerable members, and thus ask ourselves what we can do to reimagine the way society could and should change for the better. What Prima Facie does successfully is to politicise the criminal justice system to question our ability to evolve as a society if we are effectively unable to interrogate how the law is failing its most vulnerable. Miller builds a relatable and engaging narrative of an individual who understands and supports the system but is confronted with the reality that she is unable to receive justice within this system. In doing so, the audience is presented with a subversive rape narrative—that is, a narrative in which the patriarchal structures that protect and uphold rape culture are being interrogated and challenged to reveal their flaws and demand socio-cultural change—that is not only hard to ignore, but one that challenges us to consider how these systems are working against us to impede our achievement of individual and collective wellbeing. Roeder captures the nuanced power of subversive rape stories filtering into social conscience, asserting that “the continued construction—and the ethical reception—of rape narratives … can not only help victims of violence regain control of their own experience but are valuable in expanding narrowly conceived social constructions of what rape victims ‘are like’” (27-8). Miller’s play positions the audience as witness to a relatable, witty, and intelligent woman as the victim of such a crime who can rebuild herself in the aftermath, despite the system’s fallibilities and inclination to silence and erase her experience. Like the audience member who sat beside me at Prima Facie’s West End debut, and who had such an emotional reaction to the play’s subject matter, it is easy to see how bearing witness to Tessa’s rape and the subsequent trial is vital. It can generate necessary discourse about the value in challenging these systems to promote individual wellbeing for victims of sexual assault, and by extension, push us towards creating a better, more just society. Tessa’s experience in the court room is “shaped by the male experience, its cases decided by generations of male judges and its statutes legislated by generations of male politicians” (Miller 7), which she highlights can fail to accept a victim’s testimony as truth if it does not fit within the patriarchal rules of ‘rape’. The audience are encouraged through Tessa’s story to consider their own complicity in such systems, as a direct result of societal misconceptions about rape and rape victims being shaped by the male—or patriarchal—experience. The audience are presented with multiple rape narratives in Prima Facie, leading us to see Tessa’s trial, testimony, and cross-examination, aptly titled in the play as “the Silencing” (Miller 81), as the hardest to watch. Miller weaves a complex tapestry, which reminds us that fundamentally, each story of rape varies in its particulars; there is no one narrative that can contain these explosive and singular moments of disruption. Yet, placed beside each other, these experiences … function as a reminder of the complex power associated with not only the telling, but the hearing, of such stories. (Roeder 28) After the audience is led to this conclusion, the play’s voice of reckoning demands of them that something must change—and that this change begins with them. Miller does not ask this only of the average theatre-goer, but of those who have the power to make a difference. For its opening run with Griffin Theatre Company in Sydney, Prima Facie staged a one-night performance specifically for female judges, barristers, solicitors, lawyers, and politicians, followed by what Miller describes as “a long and exciting discussion where played out before me was an authentic intersection between art and social change” (Miller 8). Miller saw the positive reception to the play as “a beacon of hope for future generations” (Miller 8), as she witnessed the Law Reform Commission attend a matinee, and a series of boys’ schools attend the production. Additionally, many performances internationally and in Australia have been followed by poignant Q&As, positioning this play as a site for political and social change. This is achieved by placing the production team alongside professionals within the field of law to promote these discussions. Miller saw the potential for this play not only to challenge social perceptions of rape held by people within society, but also as a driving force for enacting real and tangible change to the systems by generating discourse with those who, like (the fictional) Tessa, work within such systems. Similarly, for its West End debut, Prima Facie collaborated with The Schools Consent Project, gifting tickets to partner school groups, providing support to students who attended, and donating some of its profits to this not-for-profit organisation. The founder of The Schools Consent Project, Kate Parker, spoke of this collaboration as crucial, in that the play shines a critical spotlight on the themes of consent, the criminal justice system and the female experience – topics we discuss daily with young people in classrooms across the country in our lawyer-led workshops on consent. The production is radical for a West End stage, as is its willingness to have a wider community reach. We are very excited about the impact of this partnership on the behaviour and thinking of the young people we work with. (qtd. in Wood, par. 3) The targeted community outreach linked to its West End run has propelled Prima Facie’s impact beyond the theoretical—or fictional—and into the practical, promoting new ways of thinking about the systems within which society operate, and encouraging those who will effectively dominate the system’s future to consider ways in which we can change. The collective wellbeing of society and its individuals can be brought about by the types of theatrical narratives that have emerged in the contemporary era, like Prima Facie, as it encourages a necessary discourse about the pervasiveness of rape and the fallibilities of the (still) patriarchal systems we have in place through which to examine and test accusations of this kind. This fallibility is preventing society from becoming better; improving for the greater good of all who belong to it. For us to do so, we must consider how our collective complicity in such systems has only contributed to its success in neglecting rape victims at their most vulnerable. Lester Brathwaite captures this eloquently in his review of Prima Facie’s Broadway review for Entertainment Weekly when he writes: “the emotional and physical toll of a performance like this, and the truths it brings to light, is akin to a public service” (par. 16). The play and performance’s ability to reveal the layers of oppression that sit beneath the surface of society and force the audience to look within are powerful, and potentially transformative. References Bix, Brian H. "Linguistic Meaning and Legal Truth." Law and Language: Current Legal Issues. Vol. 15. Eds. Michael Freeman and Fiona Smith. Oxford: Oxford UP, 2013. 34-44. Coundouriotis, Eleni. “‘You Only Have Your Word’: Rape and Testimony.” Human Rights Quarterly 35. 2 (2013): 365–85. Daly, Kathleen, and Brigitte Bouhours. “Rape and Attrition in the Legal Process: A Comparative Analysis of Five Countries.” Crime and Justice 39.1 (2010): 565–650. Donat, P., and J. D'Emilio. “A Feminist Redefinition of Rape and Sexual Assault: Historical Foundations and Change.” Journal of Social Issues 48 (1992): 9–22. Fitzpatrick, Lisa. “Signifying Rape: Problems of Representing Sexual Violence on Stage.” Feminism, Literature and Rape Narratives: Violence and Violation. Eds. Sorcha Gunne and Zoe Brigley Thompson. London: Routledge, 2010. 154–165. Fraser, Courtney. “From Ladies First to Asking for It: Benevolent Sexism in the Maintenance of Rape Culture.” California Law Review 103 (2015): 141–203. Harrison D.H. Lee, Jason M. Tangen, Blake M. McKimmie, and Barbara M. Masser. “Guided by the Rape Schema: The Influence of Event Order on How Jurors Evaluate the Victim’s Testimony in Cases of Rape.” Psychology, Crime & Law 29.1 (2022): 25–55. Herman, Dianne F. “The Rape Culture.” Culture 1.10 (1988): 45–53. Miller, Suzie. Prima Facie. London: Nick Hern Books, 2022. Roeder, Tara. “‘You Have to Confess’: Rape and the Politics of Storytelling.” Journal of Feminist Scholarship 9 (2015): 18–29. Sehrbrock, Joachim. “Social Justice on the Couch: Collapse and Repair of Social Thirdness.” British Journal of Psychotherapy 37.4 (2021): 673–689. Spohn, Cassia. “Sexual Assault Case Processing: The More Things Change, the More They Stay the Same.” International Journal for Crime, Justice and Social Democracy 9.1 (2020): 86–94. Taslitz, Andrew E. Rape and the Culture of the Courtroom. New York: NYU Press, 1999. Taylor, Shannon. “Sexual Assault and the Law – a Diary of a Victim/Survivor's Experience.” Women against Violence: An Australian Feminist Journal 5 (1998): 64–72. Tidmarsh, Patrick, and Gemma Hamilton. “Misconceptions of Sexual Crimes against Adult Victims: Barriers to Justice.” Australian Institute of Criminology: Trends & Issues in Crime and Criminal Justice 611 (2020): 1–18. Ullman, Sarah E. “The Social Context of Talking about Sexual Assault.” Talking about Sexual Assault: Society's Response to Survivors. Washington, DC: American Psychological Association, 2010. Wood, Alex. “West End Prima Facie with Jodie Comer Partners with Schools Consent Project.” WhatsOnStage, 15 Mar. 2022. <https://www.whatsonstage.com/london-theatre/news/west-end-prima-facie-jodie-comer-school-consent_56107.html>.

Introduction Fashion has long been associated with resistance movements across Asia and Australia, from the hand-spun cotton Khadi of Mahatma Gandhi’s freedom struggle to the traditional ankle length robe worn by Tibetans in the ‘White Wednesday Movement’ (Singh et al.; Yangzom). There are many reasons why fashion and activism have been interlinked. Fashion can serve as a form of nonverbal communication (Crane), which can convey activists’ grievances and concerns while symbolising solidarity (Doerr). It can provide an avenue to enact individual agency against repressive, authoritarian regimes (Yangzom; Doerr et al.). Fashion can codify a degree of uniformity within groups and thereby signal social identity (Craik), while also providing a means of building community (Barry and Drak). Fashion, therefore, offers activists the opportunity to develop the three characteristics which unite a social or environmental movement: a shared concern about an issue, a sense of social identity, and connections between individuals and groups. But while these fashion functions map onto movement characteristics, it remains unclear whether activists across the world deliberately include fashion into their protest action repertoires. This uncertainty exists partly because of a research and media focus on large scale, mass protests (Lester and Hutchins), where fashion characteristics are immediately visible and amenable to retrospective interpretation. This focus helps explain the rich volume of research examining the manifestation of fashion in past protests, such as the black, red, and yellow colours worn during the 1988 Aboriginal Long March of Freedom, Justice, and Hope (Maynard Dress; Coghlan), and the pink anti-Trump ‘pussyhats’ (Thompson). However, the protest events used to identify these fashion characteristics are a relatively small proportion of actions used by environmental activists (Dalton et al.; Gulliver et al.), which include not only rallies and marches, but also information evenings, letter writing sessions, and eco-activities such as tree plantings. This article aims to respond to Barnard’s (Looking) call for more empirical work on what contemporary cultural groups visually do with what they wear (see also Gerbaudo and Treré) via a content analysis of 36,676 events promoted on Facebook by 728 Australian environmental groups between 2010 and 2019. The article firstly reports findings from an analysis of this dataset to identify how fashion manifests in environmental activism, building on research demonstrating the role of protest-related nonverbal communications, such as protest signage (Bloomfield and Doolin), images (Kim), and icons, slogans, and logos (Goodnow). The article then considers what activists may seek to achieve through incorporating fashion into their action repertoire, and whether this suggests solidarity with activists seeking to effect environmental change across the wider Asian region. Fashion Activism Fashion is created through a particular assemblage of clothes, accessories, and hairstyles (Barry and Drak), which in turn forms a prevailing custom or style of dress (Craik). It is a cultural practice, providing ‘real estate’ (Benda 7) for an individual to express their social roles (Craik) and political identity (Behnke). Some scholars argue that fashion became overtly political during the 1960s and 70s, as social movements politicised appearance (Edwards). This has only increased in relevance with the rise of far right, populist, and authoritarian regimes, whose sub-cultures enact politicised identities through their distinct fashion characteristics (Gaugele and Titton; Gaugele). Fashion can therefore play an important role in protest movements, as “political subjectivities, political authority, political power and discipline are rendered visible, and thereby real, by the way fashion co-establishes them” (Behnke 3). Across the literature scholars have identified two primary avenues by which fashion and activism are connected. The first of these relates to activism targeting the fashion industry. This type of activism is found in both Asia and Australia, and promotes sustainable consumption choices such as buying used goods and transforming existing items (Chung and Yim), as well as highlighting garment worker exploitation within the fashion industry (Khan and Richards). The second avenue is called ‘fashion activism’: the use of fashion to intentionally signal a message seeking to evoke social and/or political change (Thompson). In this conceptualisation, clothing is used to signify a particular message (Crane). An example of this type of fashion activism is the ‘SlutWalk’, a protest where participants deliberately wore outfits described as slutty or revealing as a response to victim-blaming of women who had experienced sexual assault (Thompson). A key element of fashion activism thus appears to be its message intentionality. Clothes are specifically utilised to convey a message, such as a grievance about victim-blaming, which can then be incorporated into design features displayed on t-shirts, pins, and signs both on the runway and in protest events (Titton). However, while this ‘sender/receiver’ model of fashion communication (Barnard, Fashion as) can be compelling for activists, it is complex in practice. A message receiver can never have full knowledge of what message the sender seeks to signify through a particular clothing item, nor can the message sender predict how a receiver will interpret that message. Particular arrangements of clothing only hold communicative power when they are easily interpreted and related to the movement and its message, usually only intelligible to a specific culture or subculture (Goodnow). Even within that subculture it remains problematic to infer a message from a particular style of dress, as demonstrated in examples where dress is used to imply sexual consent; for example, in rape and assault cases (Lennon et al.). Given the challenges of interpreting fashion, do activists appear to use the ‘real estate’ (Benda 7) afforded by it as a protest tool? To investigate this question a pre-existing dataset of 36,676 events was analysed to ascertain if, and how, environmental activism engages with fashion (a detailed methodology is available on the OSF). Across this dataset, event categories, titles, and descriptions were reviewed to collate events connecting environmental activism to fashion. Three categories of events were found and are discussed in the next section: street theatre, sustainable fashion practices, and disruptive protest. Street Theatre Street theatre is a form of entertainment which uses public performance to raise awareness of injustices and build support for collective action (Houston and Pulido). It uses costumes as a vehicle for conveying messages about political issues and for making demands visible, and has been utilised by protesters across Australia and Asia (Roces). Many examples of street theatre were found in the dataset. For example, Extinction Rebellion (XR) consistently promoted street theatre events via sub-groups such as the ‘Red Rebels’ – a dedicated team of volunteers specialising in costumed street theatre – as well as by inviting supporters to participate in open street theatre events, such as in the ‘Halloween Dead Things Disco’. Dressed as spooky skeletons (doot, doot) and ghosts, we'll slide and shimmy down Sydney's streets in a supernatural style, as we bring attention to all the species claimed by the Sixth Mass Extinction. These street theatre events appeared to prioritise spectacle rather than disruption as a means to attract attention to their message. The Cairns and Far North Environment Centre ‘Climate Action Float’, for example, requested that attendees: Wear blue and gold or dress as your favourite reef animal, solar panel, maybe even the sun itself!? Reef & Solar // Blue & Gold is the guiding theme but we want your creativity take it from there. Most groups used street theatre as one of a range of different actions organised across a period of time. However, Climacts, a performance collective which uses ‘spectacle and satire to communicate the urgency of the climate and biodiversity crisis’ (Climacts), utilised this tactic exclusively. Their Climate Guardians collective used distinctive angel costumes to perform at the Climate Conference of Parties 26, and in various places around Australia (see images on their Website). Fig. 1: Costumed protest against Downer EDI's proposed work on the Adani coalmine; Image by John Englart (CC BY-SA 2.0). Sustainable Fashion Practices The second most common type of event which connected fashion with activism were those promoting sustainable fashion practices. While much research has highlighted the role of activism in raising awareness of problems related to the fashion industry (e.g. Hirscher), groups in the dataset were primarily focussed on organising activities where supporters communally created their own fashion items. The most common of these was the ‘crafternoon’, with over 260 separate crafternoon events identified in the dataset. These events brought activists together to create protest-related kit such as banners, signs, and costumes from recycled or repurposed materials, as demonstrated by Hume Climate Action Now’s ‘Crafternoon for Climate’ event: Come along on Sunday arvo for a relaxed arvo making posters and banners for upcoming Hume Climate Action Now events… Bring: Paints, textas, cardboard, fabric – whatever you’ve got lying around. Don’t have anything? That’s cool, just bring yourself. Events highlighting fashion industry problems were less frequent and tended to prioritise sharing of information about the fashion industry rather than promoting protests. For example, Transition Town Vincent held a ‘Slowing Down Fast Fashion – Transition Town Vincent Movie Night’ while the Green Embassy promoted the ‘Eco Fashion Week’. This event, held in 2017, was described as Australia’s only eco-fashion week, and included runway shows, music, and public talks. Other events also focussed on public talks, such as a Conservation Council of ACT event called ‘Green Drinks Canberra October 2017: Summer Edwards on the fashion industry’ and a panel discussion organised by a group called SEE-Change entitled ‘The Sustainable Wardrobe’. Disruptive Protest and T-Shirts Few events in the dataset mentioned elements of fashion outside of street theatre or sustainable fashion practices, with only one organisation explicitly connecting fashion with activism in its event details. This group – Australian Youth Climate Coalition – organised an event called ‘Activism in Fashion: Tote Bags, T-shirts and Poster Painting!’, which asked: How can we consistently be involved in campaigning while life can be so busy? Can we still be loud and get a message across without saying a word? The iconic 21st century activist "t-shirt and tote-bag" combination is hard to miss these days! Unlike street theatre and sustainable fashion practices, fashion appeared to be a consideration for only a small number of disruptive protests promoted by environmental groups in Australia. XR Brisbane sought to organise a fashion parade during the 2019 Rebellion Week, while XR protesters in Melbourne stripped down to underwear for a march through Melbourne city arcades (see also Turbet). Few common fashion elements appeared consistently on individual activists participating in events, and these were limited to accessories, such as ‘Stop Adani’ earrings, or t-shirts sold for fundraising and promotional purposes. Indeed, t-shirts appeared to be the most promoted clothing item in the dataset, continuing a long tradition of their use in protests (e.g. Maynard, Blankets). Easy to create, suitable for displaying both text and imagery, t-shirts sharing anti-coal messages featured predominantly in the Stop Adani campaign, while yellow t-shirts were a common item in Knitting Nanna’s anti-coal seam gas mining protests. Fig. 2: Stop Adani earrings and t-shirts; Image by John Englart (CC BY-SA 2.0). The Role of Fashion in Environmental Activism As these findings demonstrate, fashion appears to be deliberately utilised in environmental activism primarily through street theatre and the promotion of sustainable fashion practices. While fewer examples of fashion in disruptive protest were found and no consistent fashion assemblage was identified, accessories and t-shirts were utilised by many groups. What may activists be seeking to achieve through incorporating fashion via street theatre and sustainable fashion practices? Some scholars have argued that incorporating fashion into protest allows activists to signal political dissent against authoritarian control. For example, Yanzoom noted that by utilising fashion as a means of communication, Tibetan activists were able to embody their political goals despite repression of speech and movement by political powerholders. However, a consistent fashion repertoire across protests in this Australian dataset was not found. The opportunities afforded by protected protest rights in Australia and absence of violent police repression of disruptive protests may be one explanation why distinctive dress such as the masks and black attire of Hong Kong pro-democracy protesters did not manifest in the dataset. Other scholars have observed that fashion sub-cultures also developed partly to express anti-establishment politics, such as the punk movement in the 1970s. Radical clothing accessorised by symbols, bright hair colours, body piercings, and heavy-duty books signalled opposition to the dominant political ideology (Craik). However, none of these purposes appeared to play a role in Australian environmental activism either. Instead, it appears that Maynard’s contention that Australian protest fashion barely deviates from everyday dress remains true today. Fashion within the events promoted in this large empirical dataset retained the ‘prevalence of everyday clothing’ (Maynard, Dress 111). The lack of a clearly discernible single protest fashion style within the dataset may be related to the shortcomings of the sender/receiver model of fashion communication. As Barnard (Fashion Statements) argued, fashion is not always used as a vehicle for conveying messages, but also as a platform for constructing and reproducing identity. Indeed, a multiplicity of researchers have noted how fashion acts as a signal of what social groups individuals belong to (see Roach-Higgins and Eicher). Activist groups have a variety of goals, which not only include promoting environmental change but also mobilising more people to join their cause (Gulliver et al., Understanding). Stereotyping can hinder achievement of these goals. It has been demonstrated, for example, that individuals who hold negative stereotypes of ‘typical’ activists are less likely to want to associate with them, and less likely to adopt their behaviours (Bashir et al.). Accordingly, some activist groups have been shown to actively promote dress associated with other identity groups, specifically to challenge cultural constructions of environmental activist stereotypes (see also Roces). For example, Bloomfield and Doolins’s study of the NZ anti-GE group MAdGE (Mothers against Genetic Engineering in Food and the Environment) demonstrated how visual protest artifacts conveyed the protesters’ social identity as mothers and customers rather than environmental activists, claiming an alternative cultural mandate for challenging the authority of science (see also Einwohner et al.). The data suggest that Australian activists are seeking to avoid this stereotype as well. The absence of a consistent fashion promoted within the dataset may reflect awareness of problematic stereotypes that activists may be then deliberately seeking to avoid. Maynard (Dress), for example, has noted how the everyday dress of Australian protesters serves to deflect stereotypical labelling of participants. This strategy is also mirrored by the changing nature of groups within the Australian environmental movement. The event database demonstrates that an increasing number of environmental groups are emerging with names highlighting non-stereotypical environmental identities: groups such as ‘Engineers Declare’ and ‘Bushfire Survivors for Climate Action’. Beyond these identity processes, the frequent use of costumed street theatre protest suggests that activists recognise the value of using fashion as a vehicle for communicating messages, despite the challenges of interpretation described above. Much of the language used to promote street theatre in the Facebook event listings suggests that these costumes were deliberately designed to signify a particular meaning, with individuals encouraged to dress up to be ‘a vehicle for myth and symbol’ (Lavender 11). It may be that costumes are also utilised in protest due to their suitability as an image event, convenient for dissemination by mass media seeking colourful and engaging imagery (Delicath and Deluca; Doerr). Furthermore, costumes, as with text or colours presented on t-shirts, may offer activists an avenue to clearly convey a visual message which is more resistant to stereotyping. This is especially relevant given that fashion can be re-interpreted and misinterpreted by audiences, as well as reframed and reinterpreted by the media (Maynard, Dress). While the prevalence of costumed performance and infrequent mentions of fashion in the dataset may be explained by stereotype avoidance and messaging clarity, sustainable fashion practices were more straightforward in intent. Groups used multiple approaches to educate audiences about sustainable fashion, whether through fostering sustainable fashion practices or raising awareness of fashion industry problems. In this regard, fashion in protest in Australia closely resembles Asian sustainable fashion activism (see e.g. Chon et al. regarding the Singaporean context). In particular, the large number of ‘crafternoons’ suggests their importance as sites of activism and community building. Craftivism – acts such as quilting banners, yarn bombing, and cross stitching feminist slogans – are used by many groups to draw attention to social, political and environmental issues (McGovern and Barnes). This type of ‘creative activism’ (Filippello) has been used to challenge aesthetic and political norms across a variety of contested socio-political landscapes. These activities not only develop activism skills, but also foster community (Barry and Drak). For environmental groups, these community building events can play a critical role in sustaining and supporting ongoing environmental activism (Gulliver et al., Understanding) as well as demonstrating solidarity with workers across Asia experiencing labour injustices linked to the fashion industry (Chung and Yim). Conclusion Studies examining protest fashion demonstrate that clothing provides a canvas for sharing protest messages and identities in both Asia and Australia (Benda; Yangzom; Craik). However, despite the fashion’s utility as communication tool for social and environmental movements, empirical studies of how fashion is used by activists in these contexts remain rare. This analysis demonstrates that Australian environmental activists use fashion in their action repertoire primarily through costumed street theatre performances and promoting sustainable fashion practices. By doing so they may be seeking to use fashion as a means of conveying messages, while avoiding stereotypes that can demobilise supporters and reduce support for their cause. Furthermore, sustainable fashion activism offers opportunities for activists to achieve multiple goals: to subvert the fast fashion industry, to provide participation avenues for new activists, to help build activist communities, and to express solidarity with those experiencing fast fashion-related labour injustices. These findings suggest that the use of fashion in protest actions can move beyond identity messaging to also enact sustainable practices while co-opting and resisting hegemonic ideas of consumerism. By integrating fashion into the vibrant and diverse actions promoted by environmental movements across Australia and Asia, activists can construct and perform identities while fostering the community bonds and networks from which movements demanding environmental change derive their strength. Ethics Approval Statement This study was approved by the Research Ethics Committee of the University of Queensland (2018000963). 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