Journal articles on the topic 'Contact longue distance'

Lors de cette recherche, menée au printemps 2021, nous avons exploré si les médiations d’ordre cognitif, social et technique, développées entre certains acteurs de l’éducation dans le contexte particulier de la pandémie de COVID-19 ont débouché sur le développement professionnel chez les enseignants travaillant dans des écoles primaires et secondaires québécoises. Forcés d’enseigner à distance ou en mode hybride par une longue période de confinement, les enseignants ont dû garder le contact avec les élèves et assurer la continuité des apprentissages de ceux-ci. Ce contexte a amené les enseignants à se tourner vers différentes ressources de médiation, notamment vers les réseaux sociaux et les conseillers pédagogiques. Opérationnalisé par des changements de pratiques dans le contexte d’une crise sanitaire sans précédent, le développement professionnel des 29 enseignants participants a été étudié par l’intermédiaire de la méthodologie Q. Les classements des énoncés élaborés à cette fin font ressortir trois profils d’enseignants : ceux dont le développement professionnel a reposé en majorité sur les interactions avec des collègues connus, les enseignants qui se sont plutôt fiés à leurs réflexions et aux conseillers pédagogiques qu’aux autres ressources investiguées dans l’étude et ceux qui se sont inspirés des échanges professionnels sur les réseaux sociaux pour développer leur pratique. Rapportés à l’enseignement dans des contextes particuliers et concernés par la façon dont les enseignants ont fait appel aux différentes ressources, nos résultats pourraient servir aux conseillers pédagogiques pour mieux soutenir le développement de compétences professionnelles permettant l’adaptation des pratiques enseignantes à des situations hors du commun. Mots-clés : développement professionnel, pandémie, profil des enseignants, réseaux sociaux, conseiller pédagogique

Introduction: Proximal fifth metatarsal fracture fixation is usually treated conservatively, but when chosen for surgical treatment, percutaneous fixation with screws is the most used. This study aims to evaluate the presence of injury of the structures at risk and to measure the distance of these structures to the entry point. Methods: Eleven fresh-frozen below-the-knee specimens underwent standard operative fixation for a Jones fracture via the “High and inside” percutaneous technique. A guide wire was placed through the medullary canal and confirmed on fluoroscopy. The cannulated drill with a drill sleeve was then placed over the wire and advanced to the diaphysis. The guide wire was left, and the skin and subcutaneous tissues were carefully removed from the lateral midfoot to fully expose the structures at risk. The guidewire was then removed, and then the solid screw was placed. Neurovascular and tendinous structures were assessed for any injury. The distance of the wire in the base of the fifth metatarsal and these structures was measured and documented, including the branches of the sural nerve, cuboid, fourth metatarsal, peroneus longus, and peroneus brevis tendons. Results: The structure with the shortest average distance from the pin was the peroneus brevis, measuring 0.91 mm (±1.22 mm S.D.), followed by the cuboid articular surface, sural nerve, peroneus longus, and base of the fourth metatarsal, respectively. The pin had damaged the peroneus brevis in 5 of 11 cadavers. The average distance from the tendon insertion point was 7.2 mm. The furthest measured distance was 10 mm, while the closest was 3 mm. The screw head contacted the articular surface of the cuboid in 3 of 11 cadavers. There were no instances of pin contact with or damage to the peroneus longus, sural nerve, or fourth metatarsal head. Conclusion: We conclude that percutaneous fixation of fractures of the base of the fifth metatarsus presents a risk of partial lesion of the peroneus brevis tendon and lateral aspect of the cuboid. Therefore, specific care with these structures should be taken during the procedure.

Category: Bunion, Midfoot/Forefoot Introduction/Purpose: The lapidus procedure is a longstanding operation performed for the treatment of hallux valgus deformity with a concomitant hypermobile first ray. Orthopaedic surgeons have a myriad of options to choose from in performing the lapidus procedure. The implantation of orthopaedic implants comes with the risk of iatrogenic injury to surrounding anatomy. Several cadaveric studies in the humerus and femur have described potential neurovascular structures at risk during placement of intramedullary nail systems. The purpose of this study was to determine the proximity of nail insertion and interlocking mechanisms in the Lapidus Phantom Intramedullary Nail System (Paragon 28, Inc.) to neurologic and tendinous structures in the foot. Methods: A titanium intramedullary nail was inserted from the first metatarsal to the medial cuneiform spanning the first tarsometatarsal joint in 10 fresh-frozen cadaver feet. K-wires were inserted in the proximal lateral, proximal medial, and distal medial-to-lateral interlock screw paths. The tibialis anterior tendon, extensor hallucis longus tendon, and superficial peroneal nerve were carefully dissected and exposed, and the distance from each of these anatomic landmarks were then measured and recorded from four different aspects of the nail: Proximal lateral interlocking screw path, proximal medial interlocking screw path, nail insertion, distal interlocking screw path. Distances were averaged, ranges were determined. Results: The tibialis anterior tendon was in closest proximity to the proximal medial interlock K-wire with an average distance of 0.4 mm. The proximal medial interlock bisected the tibialis anterior tendon in three of the specimens. The extensor hallucis longus tendon was in closest proximity to the nail insertion with an average distance of 1.2 mm. A branch of the superficial peroneal nerve was in closest proximity to the distal interlock K-wire with an average distance of 7.5 mm, however, the nerve came in direct contact with the proximal medial interlock K-wire in two of the specimens. Conclusion: The Lapidus intramedullary nail’s proximal medial interlock screw poses the greatest threat to the tibialis anterior tendon, with the distance from the tendon to the interlock K-wire being 3 mm or less in all specimens tested. The extensor hallucis longus tendon is at risk of injury with insertion of the nail. Medial to lateral interlocking poses the greatest danger to a branch of the superficial peroneal nerve. Blunt dissection should be performed using this system with a path to bone before instrumentation to reduce the risk of nerve and tendon injury in the foot.

Category: Sports, Trauma, Cadaver study Introduction/Purpose: Jones fractures are fractures of the proximal fifth metatarsal involving the metaphyseal-diaphyseal junction. They have an increased risk for refracture, delayed union and nonunion secondary to poor blood supply to this área. They are usually treated conservatively, but when chosen for surgical treatment percutaneous fixation with screws is the most used. Few studies have evaluated the complications of injury to nearby structures during the percutaneous fixation. It has been shown, however, that the peroneal brevis and longus, the cuboid, and the sural nerve lie in close proximity to this starting point and are, therefore, at theoretical risk of injury. The study aims to evaluate the presence of injury of the structures at risk and to measure the distance of these structures to the entry point. Methods: Eleven fresh-frozen below-the-knee specimens underwent standard operative fixation for a Jones fracture via the “High and inside” percutaneous technique. A guide wire was placed through the medullary canal and confirmed on fluoroscopy. The cannulated drill with drill sleeve was then placed over the wire and advanced to the diaphysis. The guide wire was left and the skin and subcutaneous tissues were carefully removed from the lateral midfoot to fully expose the structures at risk. The guidewire was then removed, and then the solid screw was placed. Neurovascular and tendinous structures were assessed for any injury. The distance of the wire in the base of fifth metatarsal and these structures was measured and documented, including the branches of the sural nerve, cuboid, fourth metatarsal, peroneus longus, and peroneus brevis tendons. Results: The structure with the shortest average distance from the pin was the peroneus brevis, measuring 0.91 mm (±1.22 mm S.D.), followed by the cuboid articular surface, sural nerve, peroneus longus, and base of the fourth metatarsal, respectively. The pin had damaged the peroneus brevis in 5 of 11 cadavers. However, it did not damage at the tendon insertion point in any specimen. The average distance from the tendon insertion point was 7.2 mm. The furthest measured distance was 10 mm, while the closest was 3 mm. The screw head contacted the articular surface of the cuboid in 3 of 11 cadavers. There were no instances of pin contact with or damage to the peroneus longus, sural nerve, or fourth metatarsal head. Conclusion: This is the only study that evaluated the risk of injury the structures after a procedure that simulated an actual surgical act. It is also the only one that was aware of the risk of tendon injury not only in its insertion but also in its path during the placement of the wire and drill. We conclude that percutaneous fixation of fractures of the base of the fifth metatarsus presents a risk of partial lesion of the peroneus brevis tendon and lateral aspect of the cuboid. Therefore, specific care with these structures can be taken during the procedure.

OBJECTIVE: Altered ground reaction force (GRF) and joint torsional stiffness are associated with various lower extremity injuries, but these have yet to be examined in dancers with flexor hallucis longus (FHL) tendinopathy. Additionally, a simple, field-friendly kinematic correlate to ground contact kinetics would be useful for clinical application. The purpose of this study was to compare lower extremity biomechanics during takeoff of a dance leap (saut de chat) in dancers with and without FHL tendinopathy, and to examine lower limb posture at initial contact as a clinical correlate of injury-related kinetic factors. METHODS: Motion capture and inverse dynamics were used to analyze saut de chat takeoff performed by 11 uninjured dancers and 8 dancers with FHL tendinopathy. GRF parameters, joint torsional stiffness of the metatarsophalangeal, ankle, and knee joints, and lower extremity posture at initial contact were compared between groups using Welch’s t-tests. RESULTS: Dancers with FHL tendinopathy maintained similar jump height as the uninjured dancers, but exhibited lower peak vertical GRF, longer time to peak force, and less joint torsional stiffness at the metatarsophalangeal, ankle, and knee joints during loading response of the takeoff step. Lower extremity contact angle was smaller and the horizontal distance between center-of-mass and center-of-pressure was greater in dancers with FHL tendinopathy. These two measures of lower limb posture at initial contact were significantly correlated with kinetic factors occurring later in ground contact (R2=0.29-0.51). CONCLUSION: Dancers with FHL tendinopathy demonstrated altered lower extremity kinetics during takeoff of a leap compared to uninjured dancers, which may contribute to, or be a compensation response to, injury

Category: Hindfoot; Trauma; Other Introduction/Purpose: Calcaneal fractures are a common injury with potential for concomitant involvement of the sustentaculum tali. Common surgical repair involves a sinus tarsi approach with placement of a lag screw from lateral to medial. There is no current study that focuses on the potential damage to the medial structures after screw placement. The goal of this paper was to describe the incidence in which medial structures were damaged using a sinus tarsi approach for lateral to medial screw fixation of the sustentaculum tali. Methods: Seven fresh-frozen below-the-knee cadaver specimens were used for the present anatomic dissection study. Prior to investigations, specimens were inspected with fluoroscopic radiographs for any pathology or prior operational intervention Each specimen underwent screw placement using the sinus tarsi approach. Medial dissection of the calcaneus was performed after screw placement to determine the proximity of the anatomical structures of interest to the inserted hardware. The four anatomical structures of interest were the tibialis posterior tendon, flexor hallucis longus, flexor digitorum longus, and posterior neurovascular bundle. Distance from the 4.0 mm screw to the previously mentioned anatomic structures was measured with a scientific ruler and recorded to the nearest millimeter. The mean, standard deviation, and range for distances were calculated for all structures. Analysis of variance (ANOVA) was used to determine statistical significance. Results: The average patient age, height, and weight were 79.3 years, 5 feet 4 inches, and 127 lbs respectively. The primary outcome of interest was the longitudinal distance between the medial aspect of the screw to the anatomical structures of interest. On average, the posterior neurovascular bundle had the closest proximity to the medial aspect of the screw for all seven specimens with a mean distance of 6.4 mm. The second closest structure was the FHL with a mean distance of 7 mm, followed by the FDL and tibialis posterior tendon, with mean distances of 9.9 mm and 13.9 mm respectively. The posterior neurovascular bundle was hit by the screw on one occasion, whereas the hardware contacted the FDL on two separate occasions. The screw was placed through the FDL in one of the two occasions; however, the FDL was not transected or ruptured. Conclusion: This study sheds more light on the potential risks to medial structures when placing the sustentacular screw during open reduction and internal fixation of displaced intraarticular calcaneal fractures. We urge the orthopedic surgeon to exercise extreme caution when performing this critical step of the procedure to minimize avoidable injury to structures of importance that may increase the morbidity of the patient.

Background: Regardless of the sport discipline, the rules of prophylaxis, coaching methods and experience, injuries and contusions in athletes occur. They are inevitable, and when they eventually appear, a comprehensive therapy should be applied to avoid complications and further injuries.Material and methods: A female runner was given a classical massage, before and after the training session each of 10 minutes and, additionally, two sessions of 45-minute-tensegrity massage. Two diferent confgurations were worked out (I and II) because only selected connective tissues were intensively sensitive to compression. Results: After the classical massage the decrease in pain of fbular muscles (peroneus longus and brevis) was achieved, however, after the tensegrity massage the reduction of pain in inguinale ligaments was additionally observed. The massage of the tissues being in direct and indirect contact with the injured area resulted in complete pain elimination.Conclusions: Tensegrity massage can be used in the cases of connective tissue injuries and other mild injuries which are found in athletes. The choice of the type of the massage always depends on current symptoms and needs of the athletes. The therapy ought to be completed with the education on the preventive activities which athletes should follow. Keywords: classical and tensegrity massage, injury, pain

As part of a growing interest in global and transnational patterns connectingdifferent parts of the Muslim world, scholarship on Islam in Southeast Asia,which has long suffered from what Robert Hefner once called a “double marginalisation” in the work of both Islamicists and Asianists, has madeconsiderable progress in mapping the networks connecting Dar al-Islam’seastern geographical peripheries with its perceived Middle Eastern “heartland.”And while Cornell historian Eric Tagliacozzo notes that several studiesdeal with the history of the commercial, educational, and religiousexchanges between the Hijaz and insular Southeast Asia, making good forthe “paucity of historiography of this particular transregional dialogue,” hesees his edited volume as filling the lacuna on “what the parameters of thislong-distance dialogue between civilizations have meant over the centuries”(p. 1). Using Fernand Braudel’s notion of longue durée as a rubric, he hasgrouped the collected essays under the respective headings of “The EarlyDimensions of Contacts,” “The Colonial Age,” “The First Half of the 20thCentury,” and “Into Modernity.” ...

Category: Arthroscopy; Basic Sciences/Biologics Introduction/Purpose: To assess whether 2-mm-diameter operative tendoscopy of the tibialis posterior, peroneal, and Achilles tendons was safe and effective in a cadaveric model. Methods: A 2-mm-diameter arthroscopic system was used to perform a tendoscopic procedure in 10 nonpaired, freshfrozen, human ankles. Standard tendoscopic portals were utilized. Visual examination and operative reach with tailored tendoscopic instruments within the tendon sheaths were recorded and documented. Adhesiolysis and vincula resections were performed. After dissection, distances between portal tracts and neurovascular structures were measured and the tendons were inspected for signs of iatrogenic damage. Results: The entire tendon sheath and tendon of the tibialis posterior, peroneus brevis, and Achilles tendons were visualized and reached with tailored operative instruments. The proximal part of the peroneus longus tendon was visible and reachable from proximally up to the cuboid bone distally. Adhesiolysis and vincula resections were successfully performed in all specimens. The mean distances between portal tracts and local neurovascular structures ranged between 9.4 and 19.2 mm and there were no cases of contact. None of the tendons showed signs of iatrogenic damage. Conclusion: Two-millimeter-diameter operative tendoscopy provided safe and effective visualization and operative reach of the tibialis posterior, peroneal, and Achilles tendons.

Zusammenfassung: In den letzten Jahrzehnten nahm die Siedlung von Spišský Štvrtok eine wichtige Rolle in der Debatte über jene Fernbeziehungen ein, die die Welt der mykenischen Kultur mit Mitteleuropa verbanden. Obwohl die Ergebnisse der Ausgrabungen auf dem Gelände noch immer nicht in ihrer Gesamtheit veröffentlicht sind, postulierte der Ausgräber J. Vladár eine Übereinstimmung der Steinmauern und Bastionen mit solchen mykenischer Architektur und fand für diese Thesen wissenschaftlichen Zuspruch. Im vorliegenden Artikel wird der Annahme jedoch widersprochen. Die Befestigungen von Spišský Štvrtok werden in einem vergleichenden Ansatz diskutiert und Siedlungsstrukturen gegenübergestellt, die aus der Otomani-Füzesabony-Kultur und der mykenischen Kultur bekannt sind. Der Autor zeigt im Vergleich mit weiteren Befunden bronzezeitlicher Verteidigungsarchitektur die Alleinstellung der vorliegenden Anlage. Die dabei sichtbar werdenden Unterschiede rechtfertigen die Notwendigkeit, nach alternativen chronologischen Ansätzen für die steinerne Befestigungsanlage von Spišský Štvrtok zu suchen. Résumé: L’habitat fortifié de Spišský Štvrtok a joué un rôle important au cours des dernières décennies dans le débat sur les relations à longue portée entre le monde de la civilisation mycénienne et l’Europe centrale. Quoique les résultats des fouilles de ce site n’aient pas été entièrement publiés, les opinions de leur auteur, J. Vladár, proposant que les murs et bastions en pierre encerclant le site démontrent des affinités avec l’architecture mycénienne, ont largement été acceptées. L’auteur du présent article conteste cette thèse. Les fortifications de Spišský Štvrtok font ici l’objet d’une approche comparative, les confrontant à d’autres structures d’habitat appartenant à la culture d’Otomani-Füzesabony et à la civilisation mycénienne. L’auteur démontre ainsi le caractère distinct de Spišský Štvrtok par rapport aux modèles courants de l’architecture de l’âge du Bronze. Cette disparité demande un autre modèle pour expliquer la chronologie des fortifications en pierre sur le site en question. Abstract: In recent decades, the settlement at Spišský Štvrtok played an important role in the debate concerning the long-distance relationships linking the world of the Mycenaean civilisation with Central Europe. Although the findings of the excavations at the site have not been published in their entirety, the views of its excavator, J. Vladár, who suggested that the site’s stone walls and bastions bore a similarity to Mycenaean architecture, have been widely accepted. In this article, the author challenges this thesis. The Spišský Štvrtok fortifications are discussed in a comparative approach, set against other settlement structures known from the Otomani-Füzesabony culture and the Mycenaean culture. The author demonstrates the apparent distinctiveness of Spišský Štvrtok when compared with the known models of Bronze Age defensive architecture. The disparity justifies the need to seek an alternative explanation for the chronology of the stone fortifications at the site in question.

Category: Trauma Introduction/Purpose: Fractures of the talar neck and body can be fixed with percutaneously placed screws directed from anterior to posterior or posterior to anterior. The latter has been found to be biomechanically and anatomically superior. Percutaneous pin and screw placement poses anatomic risks for posterolateral and posteromedial neurovascular and tendinous structures. The objective of this study was to enumerate the number of trials for proper placement of two parallel screws and to determine the injury rate to neurovascular and tendinous structures. Methods: Eleven fresh frozen cadaver limbs were used. 2.0 mm guide wires from the Stryker (Selzach, Switzerland) 5.0-mm headless cannulated set were percutaneously placed (under fluoroscopic guidance) into the distal posterolateral aspect of the ankle. All surgical procedures were performed by a fellowship-trained foot and ankle surgeon. Malpositioned pins were left intact to allow later assessment of soft tissue injury. The number of guide wires needed to achieve an acceptable positioning of the implant was noted. Acceptable positioning was defined as in line with the talar neck axis in both AP and lateral fluoroscopic views. After a layered dissection from the skin to the tibia, we evaluated neurovascular and tendinous injuries, and measured the shortest distance between the closest guide pin and the soft tissue structures, using a precision digital caliper. Results: The mean number of guide wires needed to achieve acceptable positioning for 2 parallel screws was 2.91 ± 0.70 (range, 2 - 5). The mean distances between the closest guide pin and the soft tissue structures of interest were: Achilles tendon, 0.53 ± 0.94 mm; flexor hallucis longus tendon, 6.62 ± 3.24 mm; peroneal tendons, 7.51 ± 2.92 mm; and posteromedial neurovascular bundle, 11.73 ± 3.48 mm. The sural bundle was injured in all the specimens, with 8/11 (72.7%) in direct contact with the guide pin and 3/11 (17.3%) having been transected. The peroneal tendons were transected in 1/11 (9%) of the specimens. The Achilles tendon was in contact with the guide pin in 6/11 (54.5%) specimens and transected in 2/11 (18.2%) specimens. Conclusion: The placement of posterior to anterior percutaneous screws for talar neck fixation is technically demanding and multiple guide pins are needed. Our cadaveric study showed that important tendinous and neurovascular structures are in close proximity with the guide pins and that the sural bundle was injured in 100% of the cases. We advise performing a formal small posterolateral approach for proper visualization and retraction of structures at risk. Regardless, adequate patient education about the high risk of injury from this procedure is crucial.

Background: Technical innovation now offers the possibility of 2-mm-diameter operative tendoscopy with disposable arthroscopes and tablet-like control units. The promises of new technology should be critically scrutinized. Therefore, this study assessed whether 2-mm-diameter operative tendoscopy of the tibialis posterior, peroneal, and Achilles tendons was safe and effective in a cadaveric model. Methods: A 2-mm-diameter arthroscopic system was used to perform a tendoscopic procedure in 10 nonpaired, fresh-frozen, human ankles. Standard tendoscopic portals were utilized. Visual examination and operative reach with tailored tendoscopic instruments within the tendon sheaths were recorded and documented. Adhesiolysis and vincula resections were performed. After dissection, distances between portal tracts and neurovascular structures were measured and the tendons were inspected for signs of iatrogenic damage. Results: The entire tendon sheath and tendon of the tibialis posterior, peroneus brevis, and Achilles tendons were visualized and reached with tailored operative instruments. The proximal part of the peroneus longus tendon was visible and reachable from proximally up to the cuboid bone distally. Adhesiolysis and vincula resections were successfully performed in all specimens. The mean distances between portal tracts and local neurovascular structures ranged between 9.4 and 19.2 mm and there were no cases of contact. None of the tendons showed signs of iatrogenic damage. Conclusion: Two-millimeter-diameter operative tendoscopy provided safe and effective visualization and operative reach of the tibialis posterior, peroneal, and Achilles tendons. Clinical Relevance: Compared with current practice, 2-mm-diameter operative tendoscopy has the potential to make tendoscopy around the ankle less invasive and more accessible. Diagnostic, interventional, and second-look procedures might be performed at substantially reduced risk, time, and costs.

The article deals with the empirical analysis of series of monthly mean concentrations of methane in the near-surface layer of the atmosphere from the global network of monitoring stations. They operate within the Global Atmosphere Watch (GAW) under the auspices of the World Meteorological Organization (WMO). The data is freely available at the World Data Center for Greenhouse Gases GAW/WMO (WDCGG) on its website https://gaw.kishou.go.jp/. The temporal coverage is from the 1980s. Data series from 69 stations are considered, of which 22 stations represent global background conditions. The rest of the stations are regional. Long-term trends in concentrations and the intra-annual (inter-monthly) deviations of monthly mean concentrations from long-term trends were studied. The multi-year trend was estimated using a series of 12-month running averages. To exclude systematic differences in methane concentrations, these series were adjusted to the series for the high-latitude Arctic station Alert (82° 30' N, 62° 21' W). The analysis showed that long-term trends are non-linear (in particular, a known pause in the growth of methane levels in 1999-2006 is observed), but are similar at most stations under consideration. Exceptions are six regional stations classified as “abnormal” in terms of methane. Possibly, this abnormality is due to the influence of certain sources of methane (anthropogenic or natural). Long-term trends at the rest of the stations just slightly differ from the average trend for the global stations. The series of intra-annual (inter-monthly) deviations of monthly mean concentrations from long-term trends for many stations (even those located at very significant distances from each other) show high correlative similarity. However, this similarity manifests itself at an optimal time shift from 5 months towards earlier dates up to 6 months towards later dates. The results of the analysis are consistent with the assumption that the intra-annual variability in methane concentration is largely driven by seasonal factors that are significantly related to latitude, such as vertical mixing in the atmosphere and destruction in the troposphere in reactions with hydroxyl. The root-mean-square values of intra-annual (inter-monthly) fluctuations in methane concentration depend significantly on latitude. In general, the higher the latitude is, the greater is the value. The maximum values are reached in the latitudinal belt within 45-50° N, and further to the North the values decrease. This feature of intra-annual fluctuations in the level of methane content may be explained, among other things, by significant inter-seasonal fluctuations in anthropogenic methane emissions occurring at the indicated latitudes in the countries with developed economies located in North America and Western Europe. The correlations of the series of intra-annual (inter-monthly) fluctuations of the monthly mean concentrations of CH4 and CO2 were estimated as rather high, about 0.8, at optimal time shifts, which is observed both at some polar stations and at tropical ones. This confirms the assumption that natural seasonal biogeochemical and geophysical processes play a significant role in the formation of intra-annual (inter-monthly) deviations of methane and carbon dioxide content in the near-surface layer from long-term trends. These processes include vertical mixing of air, CO2 absorption on the Earth’s surface, and destruction of methane in the troposphere in reactions with hydroxyl.

RésuméÀla disparition de l’État timouride (1507) qui, au XVe siècle, avait englobé un vaste territoire (de l’Asie centrale jusqu’en Iran central) et favorisé l’épanouissement d’une civilisation turco-iranienne particulièrement rayonnante, trois régimes se réclament de son héritage politique et culturel : les Safavides en Iran, les dynasties ouzbèkes en Asie centrale et les Grands Moghols en Inde. Les recueils de biographies (tazkera) de lettrés contemporains permettent de définir les conditions socioculturelles de la préservation, durant les XVe- XVIIIe siècles, de contacts littéraires l’intérieur de cet espace post-timouride politiquement divisé. Accédant à des milieux sociaux plus vastes que ceux de la cour, connus par ailleurs, les tazkera témoignent de l’ampleur et de la diversité du milieu lettré. L’analyse des textes (mais aussi l’étude des notices, signatures, marques et commentaires dans les marges des manuscrits) permet d’appréhender les caractéristiques de cette culture lettrée ainsi que les facteurs de sa vivacité et de son universalité. C’est à travers les pratiques d’une érudition où l’écrit et l’oral étaient valorisés à part égale que l’activité littéraire non seulement se maintint dans toutes les couches sociales, mais aussi nécessita une circulation rapide et régulière des oeuvres. L’échange de productions orales, de manuscrits ou simplement de nouvelles pour satisfaire l’intérêt intense de ce milieu pour les nouveautés littéraires fut grandement facilité par l’usage universel du persan comme vecteur principal de cette érudition, alors que la mobilité spatiale des lettrés, voyageant couramment sur des longues distances, permit la diffusion littéraire entre Ispahan, Boukhara et Delhi. Malgré d’indéniables différences entre les États de l’Asie centrale, de l’Iran et de l’Inde du Nord, la circulation des lettrés et de leurs oeuvres sur ces itinéraires croisés traduit l’existence d’un espace culturel perçu comme commun et partageant des références identiques.

Category: Ankle; Trauma Introduction/Purpose: Posterior malleolus fractures (PMFs) are typically associated with trimalleolar ankle fractures and have been reported to occur in 10-40% of ankle fractures. The PM may be fixed by direct ORIF or indirect percutaneous reduction. Direct reduction via a posterolateral approach is required for larger fragments, which requires prone or lateral decubitus positioning. Indirect reduction and fixation with anterior to posterior (AP) screws remains the most common method, in which screw threads are not entirely across the fracture site to allow interfragmentary compression.Objective: Determine the risk to anatomic structures utilizing a percutaneous technique for posterior to anterior (PA) screw fixation. It is advantageous as it places all the threads across the fracture site even for small fragments and can be performed in the supine position. Methods: 10 fresh-frozen, morphologically normal cadaver lower leg. Under fluoroscopic guidance, 1.35 mm Kirschner wire was inserted percutaneously from anteromedial to posterolateral. Guidewire was inserted from a starting point just medial to the tibialis anterior tendon and aimed at a point just lateral to the Achilles tendon. Small skin incision was made over the wire posteriorly, displacing the Achilles tendon medially as required. The wire was then over-drilled in posterior to anterior direction and replaced with a 4.0 mm partially threaded cannulated screw directed posterior to anterior. Each specimen was dissected, and adjacent soft tissue and neurovascular structures were identified. The distance from the guidewire to each anatomic structure of interest was measured. Descriptive analysis and the correlation between the mean distances from the guidewire to each structure was calculated using SPSS version 26. Results: The sural nerve was directly transected in 1/10 specimens (10%) and in contact with the wire in a second specimen (10%). There was a significant correlation between the proximity of the guidewire to the apex of Volkmann’s tubercle and its proximity to the sural nerve.(r= 0.705, p = 0.034) The flexor hallucis longus (FHL) muscle belly was perforated by the guidewire 40% of the time but was not tethered or entrapped by the screw. The neurovascular bundles were safely away from the wire in all cases. The lateral 1-2 mm of the Achilles tendon was pierced by the guidewire 20% of the time. Although suboptimal, these injuries may be of little clinical consequence, and the screw passed without tethering the tendon in all cadaveric specimens. Conclusion: Percutaneous PA screw placement is a safe technique which can be improved with several modifications. A mini- open technique is recommended to protect the sural nerve. The surgeon may consider aiming slightly more medial and closer to the Achilles tendon in order to avoid injury to the sural nerve. It is also advisable to use a soft tissue guide when over-drilling the guidewire. There may be potential for tethering of the FHL with use of a washer or large screw head. Risk to the anterior and posterior neurovascular bundles is minimal.

Abstract Background Medial tibial stress syndrome (MTSS) is a common lower leg injury experienced by runners. Although numerous risk factors are reported in the literature, many are non-modifiable and management of the injury remains difficult. Lower leg muscle structure and function are modifiable characteristics that influence tibial loading during foot-ground contact. Therefore, this study aimed to determine whether long-distance runners with MTSS displayed differences in in vivo lower leg muscle structure and function than matched asymptomatic runners. Methods Lower leg structure was assessed using ultrasound and a measure of lower leg circumference to quantify muscle cross-sectional area, thickness and lean lower leg girth. Lower leg function was assessed using a hand-held dynamometer to quantify maximal voluntary isometric contraction strength and a single leg heel raise protocol was used to measure ankle plantar flexor endurance. Outcome variables were compared between the limbs of long-distance runners suffering MTSS (n = 20) and matched asymptomatic controls (n = 20). Means, standard deviations, 95 % confidence intervals, mean differences and Cohen’s d values were calculated for each variable for the MTSS symptomatic and control limbs. Results MTSS symptomatic limbs displayed a significantly smaller flexor hallucis longus cross-sectional area, a smaller soleus thickness but a larger lateral gastrocnemius thickness than the control limbs. However, there was no statistical difference in lean lower leg girth. Compared to the matched control limbs, MTSS symptomatic limbs displayed deficits in maximal voluntary isometric contraction strength of the flexor hallucis longus, soleus, tibialis anterior and peroneal muscles, and reduced ankle plantar flexor endurance capacity. Conclusions Differences in lower leg muscle structure and function likely render MTSS symptomatic individuals less able to withstand the negative tibial bending moment generated during midstance, potentially contributing to the development of MTSS. The clinical implications of these findings suggest that rehabilitation protocols for MTSS symptomatic individuals should aim to improve strength of the flexor hallucis longus, soleus, tibialis anterior and peroneal muscles along with ankle plantar flexor endurance. However, the cross-sectional study design prevents us determining whether between group differences were a cause or effect of MTSS. Therefore, future prospective studies are required to substantiate the study findings.

INTRODUCTION: The common peroneal nerve is major lateral division of the sciatic nerve supplies lateral and anterior compartment of leg, when injured may leads to debilitating conditions such as foot drop and sensory loss or numbness in its supplied area. Common peroneal nerve's position subjects it to nerve injuries at two places one behind the knee joint where the nerve is superficial and other being the course of nerve through the fibular tunnel where its being tugged between musculo-aponeurotic fibers of peroneus longus muscle. Nerve injuries to common peroneal nerve has been attributed to several factors depending upon its anatomical position such as this may be due to sudden weight loss, prolonged sitting in squatting position, meniscus injuries in athletes or whether it is any surgical procedures involving the upper part of tibia and fibula. MATERIAL & METHODS: In present study we examine 70 lower limbs equally of right and left sides, the course, branching pattern and other reference point distances were measured with the help of metallic scale and dissections were photograph. RESULT: In 60% cases nerve separate from sciatic at the apex of popliteal fossa and in 80% cases it passes through the groove and then in about 70% specimen it passes through fibular tunnel, where it remains on an average 1.33 cm below the fibular head. The average distance of the nerve division was found 2.73 cm and just below that at a distance of 4.29 cm the nerve is in close contact with the bone. CONCLUSION: In present study we have observed average 7 muscular branches with variable origin from the common peroneal nerve in fibular tunnel which are likely to be damaged during surgical incision at this site.

INTRODUCTION: The common peroneal nerve is major lateral division of the sciatic nerve supplies lateral and anterior compartment of leg, when injured may leads to debilitating conditions such as foot drop and sensory loss or numbness in its supplied area. Common peroneal nerve's position subjects it to nerve injuries at two places one behind the knee joint where the nerve is superficial and other being the course of nerve through the fibular tunnel where its being tugged between musculo-aponeurotic fibers of peroneus longus muscle. Nerve injuries to common peroneal nerve has been attributed to several factors depending upon its anatomical position such as this may be due to sudden weight loss, prolonged sitting in squatting position, meniscus injuries in athletes or whether it is any surgical procedures involving the upper part of tibia and fibula. MATERIAL & METHODS: In present study we examine 70 lower limbs equally of right and left sides, the course, branching pattern and other reference point distances were measured with the help of metallic scale and dissections were photograph. RESULT: In 60% cases nerve separate from sciatic at the apex of popliteal fossa and in 80% cases it passes through the groove and then in about 70% specimen it passes through fibular tunnel, where it remains on an average 1.33 cm below the fibular head. The average distance of the nerve division was found 2.73 cm and just below that at a distance of 4.29 cm the nerve is in close contact with the bone. CONCLUSION: In present study we have observed average 7 muscular branches with variable origin from the common peroneal nerve in fibular tunnel which are likely to be damaged during surgical incision at this site.

Background. There are no established guidelines for fixation of posterior malleolus fractures (PMFs). However, fixation of PMFs appears to be increasing with growing evidence demonstrating benefits for stability, alignment, and early functional outcomes. The purpose of this study was to determine the risk to anatomic structures utilizing a percutaneous technique for posterior to anterior (PA) screw fixation of PMFs. Methods. Percutaneous PA screw placement was carried out on 10 fresh frozen cadaveric ankles followed by dissection to identify soft tissue and neurovascular structures at risk. The distance from the guidewire to each anatomic structure of interest was measured. The correlation between the mean distances from the guidewire to each structure was calculated. Results. The sural nerve was directly transected in 1/10 specimens (10%) and in contact with the wire in a second specimen (10%). There was a significant correlation between the proximity of the guidewire to the apex of Volkmann’s tubercle and its proximity to the sural nerve. The flexor hallucis longus (FHL) muscle belly was perforated by the guidewire 40% of the time but was not tethered or entrapped by the screw. Conclusions. Percutaneous PA screw placement is a safe technique which can be improved with several modifications. A mini-open technique is recommended to protect the sural nerve. There may be potential for tethering of the FHL with use of a washer or large screw head. Risk to the anterior and posterior neurovascular bundles is minimal. Levels of Evidence: Level V

On a longtemps vu l’histoire et l’anthropologie comme deux disciplines très distinctes n’ayant pas grand-chose en partage. Jusqu’au début du XXe siècle, l’histoire fut essentiellement celle des « civilisés », des Européens et donc des colonisateurs. Si les colonisés n’étaient pas complètement absents du tableau, ils étaient, au mieux, des participants mineurs. L’anthropologie, pour sa part, s’est instituée en ayant pour objet la compréhension des populations lointaines, les « petites sociétés », autochtones et colonisées, ces populations vues comme hors du temps et de l’histoire. Cette situation était le produit d’une division traditionnelle (Harkin 2010 : 114) – et coloniale (Naepels 2010 : 878) – du travail entre histoire et anthropologie. Celle-ci se prolongeait dans le choix des méthodes : les historiens travaillaient en archives alors que les anthropologues s’intéressaient aux témoignages oraux et donc, s’adonnaient à l’enquête de terrain. Les deux disciplines divergeaient également quant à la temporalité : « Pour l’histoire, (…) le temps est une sorte de matière première. Les actes s’inscrivent dans le temps, modifient les choses tout autant qu’ils les répètent. (…) Pour l’anthropologue, s’il n’y prend garde, le temps passe en arrière-plan, au profit d’une saisie des phénomènes en synchronie » (Bensa 2010 : 42). Ces distinctions ne sont plus aujourd’hui essentielles, en particulier pour « l’anthropologie historique », champ de recherche dont se revendiquent tant les historiens que les anthropologues, mais il n’en fut pas de tout temps ainsi. Après s’être d’abord intéressés à l’histoire des civilisations dans une perspective évolutionniste et spéculative, au tournant du siècle dernier, les pères de l’anthropologie, tant en France (Émile Durkheim, Marcel Mauss), aux États-Unis (Franz Boas), qu’en Angleterre (Bronislaw Malinowski, Alfred Radcliffe-Brown), prendront fermement leur distance avec cette histoire. Les questions de méthode, comme le développement de l’observation participante, et l’essor de concepts qui devinrent centraux à la discipline tels que « culture » et « fonction » furent déterminants pour sortir de l’idéologie évolutionniste en privilégiant la synchronie plutôt que la diachronie et les généalogies. On se détourna alors des faits uniques pour se concentrer sur ceux qui se répètent (Bensa 2010 : 43). On s’intéressa moins à l’accidentel, à l’individuel pour s’attacher au régulier, au social et au culturel. Sans être nécessairement antihistoriques, ces précepteurs furent largement ahistoriques (Evans-Pritchard 1962 : 172), une exception ayant été Franz Boas – et certains de ses étudiants, tels Robert Lowie ou Melville J. Herskovits – avec son intérêt pour les contacts culturels et les particularismes historiques. Du côté de l’histoire, on priorisait la politique, l’événement et les grands hommes, ce qui donnait lieu à des récits plutôt factuels et athéoriques (Krech 1991 : 349) basés sur les événements « vrais » et uniques qui se démarquaient de la vie « ordinaire ». Les premiers essais pour réformer l’histoire eurent lieu en France, du côté des historiens qui seront associés aux « Annales », un nom qui réfère à la fois à une revue scientifique fondée en 1929 par Marc Bloch et Lucien Febvre et à une École d’historiens français qui renouvela la façon de penser et d’écrire l’histoire, en particulier après la Seconde Guerre mondiale (Krech 1991; Schöttler 2010). L’anthropologie et la sociologie naissantes suscitèrent alors l’intérêt chez ce groupe d’historiens à cause de la variété de leurs domaines d’enquête, mais également par leur capacité à enrichir une histoire qui n’est plus conçue comme un tableau ou un simple inventaire. Les fondateurs de la nouvelle École française des Annales décrivent leur approche comme une « histoire totale », expression qui renvoie à l’idée de totalité développée par les durkheimiens, mais également à l’idée de synthèse du philosophe et historien Henry Berr (Schöttler 2010: 34-37). L’histoire fut dès lors envisagée comme une science sociale à part entière, s’intéressant aux tendances sociales qui orientent les singularités. L’ouvrage fondateur de Marc Bloch, Les rois thaumaturges (1983 [1924]), pose les jalons de ce dépassement du conjoncturel. Il utilise notamment la comparaison avec d’autres formes d’expériences humaines décrites notamment dans Le Rameau d’Or (1998 [1924; 1890 pour l’édition originale en anglais]) de James G. Frazer et explore le folklore européen pour dévoiler les arcanes religieux du pouvoir royal en France et en Angleterre (Bensa 2010; Goody 1997). Il s’agit alors de faire l’histoire des « mentalités », notion qui se rapproche de celle de « représentation collective » chère à Durkheim et Mauss (sur ce rapprochement entre les deux notions et la critique qui en a été faite, voir Lloyd 1994). Les travaux de la deuxième génération des historiens des Annales, marqués par la publication de l’ouvrage de Fernand Braudel La Méditerranée et le monde méditerranéen à l’époque de Philippe II en 1949 et de son arrivée en 1956 à la direction de la revue, peuvent encore une fois mieux se comprendre dans l’horizon du dialogue avec l’anthropologie, d’une part, et avec les area studiesqui se développèrent aux États-Unis après la Seconde Guerre mondiale, de l’autre (Braudel 1958). Le projet est de rapporter « la spécificité des acteurs singuliers, des dates et des événements à des considérations plus vastes sur la transformation lente des mœurs et des représentations. Le travail ne consiste pas seulement à capter au projet de l’histoire des rubriques chères à l’anthropologie, mais aussi à caractériser une époque [et une région] par sa façon de percevoir et de penser le monde » (Bensa 2010 : 46). Il s’agit alors de faire l’histoire des structures, des conjonctures et des mentalités (Schöttler 2010 : 38). Les travaux de cette deuxième génération des Annales s’inscrivent dans un vif débat avec l’anthropologie structuraliste de Claude Lévi-Strauss. Si tant Braudel que Lévi-Strauss voulaient considérer les choses de façon globale, Lévi-Strauss situait la globalité dans un temps des sociétés des origines, comme si tout s’était joué au départ et comme si l’histoire n’en serait qu’un développement insignifiant. Pour sa part, Braudel, qui s’intéressait à l’histoire sérielle et à la longue durée, situait plutôt la globalité dans un passé qui sert à comprendre le présent et, jusqu’à un certain point, à prévoir ce qui peut se passer dans le futur. Ce qui constitue le fond de leur opposition est que l’un s’intéresse à l’histoire immobile alors que l’autre s’intéresse à l’histoire de longue durée, soit l’histoire quasi immobile selon laquelle, derrière les apparences de la reproduction à l’identique, se produisent toujours des changements, même très minimes. Dans les deux cas, l’ « événementiel » ou ce qui se passe à la « surface » sont à l’opposé de leur intérêt pour la structure et la profondeur, même si ces dernières ne sont pas saisies de la même façon. Pour Braudel, la structure est pleinement dans l’histoire ; elle est réalité concrète et observable qui se décèle notamment dans les réseaux de relations, de marchandises et de capitaux qui se déploient dans l’espace et qui commandent les autres faits dans la longue durée (Dosse 1986 : 89). Les travaux de Braudel et son concept d’ « économie-monde » inspireront plusieurs anthropologues dont un Marshall Sahlins et un Jonathan Friedman à partir du tournant des années 1980. Pour Lévi-Strauss, la structure profonde, celle qui correspond aux enceintes mentales humaines, « ne s’assimile pas à la structure empirique, mais aux modèles construits à partir de celle-ci » (Dosse 1986 : 85). Elle est donc hors de l’histoire. Comme le rappelait François Hartog (2014 [2004] : 287), Lévi-Strauss a souvent dit « rien ne m’intéresse plus que l’histoire. Et depuis fort longtemps! » (1988 : 168; voir d’ailleurs notamment Lévi-Strauss 1958, 1983), tout en ajoutant « l’histoire mène à tout, mais à condition d’en sortir » (Lévi-Strauss 1962 : 348) ! Parallèlement à l’entreprise déhistoricisante de Lévi-Strauss, d’autres anthropologues insistent au contraire à la même époque sur l’importance de réinsérer les institutions étudiées dans le mouvement du temps. Ainsi, Edward E. Evans-Pritchard, dans sa célèbre conférence Marett de 1950 qui sera publiée en 1962 sous le titre « Anthropology and history », dénonce le fait que les généralisations en anthropologie autour des structures sociales, de la religion, de la parenté soient devenues tellement généralisées qu’elles perdent toute valeur. Il insiste sur la nécessité de faire ressortir le caractère unique de toute formation sociale. C’est pour cette raison qu’il souligne l’importance de l’histoire pour l’anthropologie, non pas comme succession d’événements, mais comme liens entre eux dans un contexte où on s’intéresse aux mouvements de masse et aux grands changements sociaux. En invitant notamment les anthropologues à faire un usage critique des sources documentaires et à une prise en considération des traditions orales pour comprendre le passé et donc la nature des institutions étudiées, Evans-Pritchard (1962 : 189) en appelle à une combinaison des points de vue historique et fonctionnaliste. Il faut s’intéresser à l’histoire pour éclairer le présent et comment les institutions en sont venues à être ce qu’elles sont. Les deux disciplines auraient donc été pour lui indissociables (Evans-Pritchard 1962 : 191). Au milieu du XXe siècle, d’autres anthropologues s’intéressaient aux changements sociaux et à une conception dynamique des situations sociales étudiées, ce qui entraîna un intérêt pour l’histoire, tels que ceux de l’École de Manchester, Max Gluckman (1940) en tête. En France, inspiré notamment par ce dernier, Georges Balandier (1951) insista sur la nécessité de penser dans une perspective historique les situations sociales rencontrées par les anthropologues, ce qui inaugura l’étude des situations coloniales puis postcoloniales, mais aussi de l’urbanisation et du développement. Cette importance accordée à l’histoire se retrouva chez les anthropologues africanistes de la génération suivante tels que Jean Bazin, Michel Izard et Emmanuel Terray (Naepels 2010 : 876). Le dialogue entre anthropologie et histoire s’est développé vers la même époque aux États-Unis. Après le passage de l’Indian Claims Commission Act en 1946, qui établit une commission chargée d’examiner les revendications à l’encontre de l’État américain en vue de compensations financières pour des territoires perdus par les nations autochtones à la suite de la violation de traités fédéraux, on assista au développement d’un nouveau champ de recherche, l’ethnohistoire, qui se dota d’une revue en 1954, Ethnohistory. Ce nouveau champ fut surtout investi par des anthropologues qui se familiarisèrent avec les techniques de l’historiographie. La recherche, du moins à ses débuts, avait une orientation empirique et pragmatique puisque les chercheurs étaient amenés à témoigner au tribunal pour ou contre les revendications autochtones (Harkin 2010). Les ethnohistoriens apprirent d’ailleurs à ce moment à travailler pour et avec les autochtones. Les recherches visaient une compréhension plus juste et plus holiste de l’histoire des peuples autochtones et des changements dont ils firent l’expérience. Elles ne manquèrent cependant pas de provoquer un certain scepticisme parmi les anthropologues « de terrain » pour qui rien ne valait la réalité du contact et les sources orales et pour qui les archives, parce qu’étant celles du colonisateur, étaient truffées de mensonges et d’incompréhensions (Trigger 1982 : 5). Ce scepticisme s’estompa à mesure que l’on prit conscience de l’importance d’une compréhension du contexte historique et de l’histoire coloniale plus générale pour pouvoir faire sens des données ethnologiques et archéologiques. L’ethnohistoire a particulièrement fleuri en Amérique du Nord, mais très peu en Europe (Harkin 2010; Trigger 1982). On retrouve une tradition importante d’ethnohistoriens au Québec, qu’on pense aux Bruce Trigger, Toby Morantz, Rémi Savard, François Trudel, Sylvie Vincent. L’idée est de combiner des données d’archives et des données archéologiques avec l’abondante ethnographie. Il s’agit également de prendre au sérieux l’histoire ou la tradition orale et de confronter les analyses historiques à l’interprétation qu’ont les acteurs de l’histoire coloniale et de son impact sur leurs vies. La perspective se fit de plus en plus émique au fil du temps, une attention de plus en plus grande étant portée aux sujets. Le champ de recherche attira graduellement plus d’historiens. La fin des années 1960 fut le moment de la grande rencontre entre l’anthropologie et l’histoire avec la naissance, en France, de l’« anthropologie historique » ou « nouvelle histoire » et, aux États-Unis, de la « New Cutural History ». L’attention passa des structures et des processus aux cultures et aux expériences de vie des gens ordinaires. La troisième génération des Annales fut au cœur de ce rapprochement : tout en prenant ses distances avec la « religion structuraliste » (Burguière 1999), la fascination pour l’anthropologie était toujours présente, produisant un déplacement d’une histoire économique et démographique vers une histoire culturelle et ethnographique. Burguière (1999) décrivait cette histoire comme celle des comportements et des habitudes, marquant un retour au concept de « mentalité » de Bloch. Les inspirations pour élargir le champ des problèmes posés furent multiples, en particulier dans les champs de l’anthropologie de l’imaginaire et de l’idéologique, de la parenté et des mythes (pensons aux travaux de Louis Dumont et de Maurice Godelier, de Claude Lévi-Strauss et de Françoise Héritier). Quant à la méthode, la description dense mise en avant par Clifford Geertz (1973), la microhistoire dans les traces de Carlo Ginzburg (1983) et l’histoire comparée des cultures sous l’influence de Jack Goody (1979 [1977]) permirent un retour de l’événement et du sujet, une attention aux détails qui rejoignit celle qu’y accordait l’ethnographie, une conception plus dynamique des rapports sociaux et une réinterrogation des généralisations sur le long terme (Bensa 2010 : 49 ; Schmitt 2008). Aux États-Unis, la « New Culturel History » qui s’inscrit dans les mêmes tendances inclut les travaux d’historiens comme Robert Darnon, Natalie Zemon Davis, Dominick La Capra (Iggers 1997; Krech 1991; Harkin 2010). L’association de l’histoire et de l’anthropologie est souvent vue comme ayant été pratiquée de manière exemplaire par Nathan Wachtel, historien au sens plein du terme, mais également formé à l’anthropologie, ayant suivi les séminaires de Claude Lévi-Strauss et de Maurice Godelier (Poloni-Simard et Bernand 2014 : 7). Son ouvrage La Vision des vaincus : les Indiens du Pérou devant la Conquête espagnole 1530-1570 qui parut en 1971 est le résultat d’un va-et-vient entre passé et présent, la combinaison d’un travail en archives avec des matériaux peu exploités jusque-là, comme les archives des juges de l’Inquisition et les archives administratives coloniales, et de l’enquête de terrain ethnographique. Cet ouvrage met particulièrement en valeur la capacité d’agir des Autochtones dans leur rapport avec les institutions et la culture du colonisateur. Pour se faire, il appliqua la méthode régressive mise en avant par Marc Bloch, laquelle consiste à « lire l’histoire à rebours », c’est-à-dire à « aller du mieux au moins bien connu » (Bloch 1931 : XII). Du côté des anthropologues, l’anthropologie historique est un champ de recherche en effervescence depuis les années 1980 (voir Goody 1997 et Naepels 2010 pour une recension des principaux travaux). Ce renouveau prit son essor notamment en réponse aux critiques à propos de l’essentialisme, du culturalisme, du primitivisme et de l’ahistoricisme (voir Fabian 2006 [1983]; Thomas 1989; Douglas 1998) de la discipline anthropologique aux prises avec une « crise de la représentation » (Said 1989) dans un contexte plus large de décolonisation qui l’engagea dans un « tournant réflexif » (Geertz 1973; Clifford et Marcus 1986; Fisher et Marcus 1986). Certains se tournèrent vers l’histoire en quête de nouvelles avenues de recherche pour renouveler la connaissance acquise par l’ethnographie en s’intéressant, d’un point de vue historique, aux dynamiques sociales internes, aux régimes d’historicité et aux formes sociales de la mémoire propres aux groupes auprès desquels ils travaillaient (Naepels 2010 : 877). Les anthropologues océanistes participèrent grandement à ce renouveau en discutant de la nécessité et des possibilités d’une anthropologie historiquement située (Biersack 1991; Barofsky 2000; Merle et Naepels 2003) et par la publication de plusieurs monographies portant en particulier sur la période des premiers contacts entre sociétés autochtones et Européens et les débuts de la période coloniale (entre autres, Dening 1980; Sahlins 1981, 1985; Valeri 1985; Thomas 1990). L’ouvrage maintenant classique de Marshall Sahlins, Islands of History (1985), suscita des débats vigoureux qui marquèrent l’histoire de la discipline anthropologique à propos du relativisme en anthropologie, de l’anthropologie comme acteur historique, de l’autorité ethnographique, de la critique des sources archivistiques, des conflits d’interprétation et du traitement de la capacité d’agir des populations autochtones au moment des premiers contacts avec les Européens et, plus largement, dans l’histoire (pour une synthèse, voir Kuper 2000). Pour ce qui est de la situation coloniale, le 50e anniversaire de la publication du texte fondateur de Balandier de 1951, au début des années 2000, fut l’occasion de rétablir, approfondir et, dans certains cas, renouveler le dialogue non seulement entre anthropologues et historiens, mais également, entre chercheurs français et américains. Les nouvelles études coloniales qui sont en plein essor invitent à une analyse méticuleuse des situations coloniales d’un point de vue local de façon à en révéler les complexités concrètes. On y insiste aussi sur l’importance de questionner les dichotomies strictes et souvent artificielles entre colonisateur et colonisé, Occident et Orient, Nord et Sud. Une attention est aussi portée aux convergences d’un théâtre colonial à un autre, ce qui donne une nouvelle impulsion aux analyses comparatives des colonisations (Sibeud 2004: 94) ainsi qu’au besoin de varier les échelles d’analyse en établissant des distinctions entre les dimensions coloniale et impériale (Bayart et Bertrand 2006; Cooper et Stoler 1997; Singaravélou 2013; Stoler, McGranahn et Perdue 2007) et en insérant les histoires locales dans les processus de globalisation, notamment économique et financière, comme l’ont par exemple pratiqué les anthropologues Jean et John Comaroff (2010) sur leur terrain sud-africain. Ce « jeu d’échelles », représente un défi important puisqu’il force les analystes à constamment franchir les divisions persistantes entre aires culturelles (Sibeud 2004: 95). Ce renouveau a également stimulé une réflexion déjà amorcée sur l’usage des archives coloniales ainsi que sur le contexte de production et de conservation d’une archive (Naepels 2011; Stoler 2009), mais également sur les legs coloniaux dans les mondes actuels (Bayart et Bertrand 2006; De l’Estoile 2008; Stoler 2016)

In the 1960s, especially in the West, art that was revelatory and art that was revealing operated at opposite ends of the aesthetic spectrum. On the side of the revelatory we can think of encounters synonymous with modernism, in which an expressionist painting was revelatory of the Freudian unconscious, or a Barnett Newman the revelatory intensity of the sublime. By contrast, the impulse to reveal in 1960s art was rooted in post-Duchampian practice, implicating artists as different as Lynda Benglis and Richard Hamilton, who mined the potential of an art that was without essence. If revelatory art underscored modernism’s transcendental conviction, critically revealing work tested its discursive rules and institutional conventions. Of course, nothing in history happens as neatly as this suggests, but what is clear is how polarized the language of artistic revelation was throughout the 1960s. With the international spread of minimalism, pop art, and fluxus, provisional reveals eventually dominated art-historical discourse. Aesthetic conviction, with its spiritual undertones, was haunted by its demystification. In the words of Donald Judd: “a work needs only to be interesting” (184).That art galleries could be sites of timely socio-political issues, rather than timeless intuitions undersigned by medium specificity, is one of the more familiar origin stories of postmodernism. Few artists symbolize this shift more than Hans Haacke, whose 2019 exhibition All Connected, at the New Museum, New York, examined the legacy of his outward-looking work. Born in Germany in 1936, and a New Yorker since 1965, Haacke has been linked to the term “institutional critique” since the mid 1980s, after Mel Ramsden’s coining in 1975, and the increased recognition of kindred spirits such as Mierle Laderman Ukeles, Michael Asher, Martha Rosler, Robert Smithson, Daniel Buren, and Marcel Broodthaers. These artists have featured in books and essays by the likes of Benjamin Buchloh, Hal Foster, and Yve-Alain Bois, but they are also known for their own contributions to art discourse, producing hybrid conceptions of the intellectual postmodern artist as historian, critic and curator.Haacke was initially fascinated by kinetic sculpture in the early 1960s, taking inspiration from op art, systems art, and machine-oriented research collectives such as Zero (Germany), Gruppo N (Italy) and GRAV (France, an acronym of Groupe de Recherche d’Art Visuel). Towards the end of the decade he started to produce more overtly socio-political work, creating what would become a classic piece from this period, Gallery-Goers’ Birthplace and Residence Profile, Part 1 (1969). Here, in a solo exhibition at New York’s Howard Wise Gallery, the artist invited viewers to mark their birthplaces and places of residence on a map. Questioning the statistical demography of the Gallery’s avant-garde attendees, the exhibition anticipated the meticulous sociological character of much of his practice to come, grounding New York art – the centre of the art world – in local, social, and economic fabrics.In the forward to the catalogue of All Connected, New Museum Director Lisa Philips claims that Haacke’s survey exhibition provided a chance to reflect on the artist’s prescience, especially given the flourishing of art activism over the last five or so years. Philips pressed the issue of why no other American art institution had mounted a retrospective of his work in three decades, since his previous survey, Unfinished Business, at the New Museum in 1986, at its former, and much smaller, Soho digs (8). It suggests that other institutions have deemed Haacke’s work too risky, generating too much political heat for them to handle. It’s a reputation the artist has cultivated since the Guggenheim Museum famously cancelled his 1971 exhibition after learning his intended work, Shapolsky et al. Manhattan Real Estate Holdings, A Real Time Social System as of May 1, 1971 (1971) involved research into dubious New York real estate dealings. Guggenheim director Thomas Messer defended the censorship at the time, going so far as to describe it as an “alien substance that had entered the art museum organism” (Haacke, Framing 138). Exposé was this substance Messer dare not name: art that was too revealing, too journalistic, too partisan, and too politically viscid. (Three years later, Haacke got his own back with Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum Board of Trustees, 1974, exposing then Guggenheim board members’ connections to the copper industry in Chile, where socialist president Salvador Allende had just been overthrown with US backing.) All Connected foregrounded these institutional reveals from time past, at a moment in 2019 when the moral accountability of the art institution was on the art world’s collective mind. The exhibition followed high-profile protests at New York’s Whitney Museum and Metropolitan Museum of Art, as well as at Sydney’s Museum of Contemporary Art, the Louvre, and the British Museum. These and other arts organisations have increasingly faced pressures, fostered by social media, to end ties with unethical donors, sponsors, and board members, with activist groups protesting institutional affiliations ranging from immigration detention centre management to opioid and teargas manufacturing. An awareness of the limits of individual agency and autonomy undoubtedly defines this era, with social media platforms intensifying the encumbrances of individual, group, and organisational identities. Hans Haacke, Gallery-Goers’ Birthplace and Residence Profile, Part 1, 1969 Hans Haacke, Gallery-Goers’ Birthplace and Residence Profile, Part 2, 1969-71Unfinished BusinessUnderscoring Haacke’s activist credentials, Philips describes him as “a model of how to live ethically and empathetically in the world today”, and as a beacon of light amidst the “extreme political and economic uncertainty” of the present, Trump-presidency-calamity moment (7). This was markedly different to how Haacke’s previous New York retrospective, Unfinished Business, was received, which bore the weight of being the artist’s first museum exhibition in New York following the Guggenheim controversy. In the catalogue to Haacke’s 1986 exhibition, then New Museum director Marcia Tucker introduced his work as a challenge, cautiously claiming that he poses “trenchant questions” and that the institution accepts “the difficulties and contradictions” inherent to any museum staging of his work (6).Philips’s and Tucker’s distinct perspectives on Haacke’s practice – one as heroically ethical, the other as a sobering critical challenge – exemplify broader shifts in the perception of institutional critique (the art of the socio-political reveal) over this thirty-year period. In the words of Pamela M. Lee, between 1986 and 2019 the art world has undergone a “seismic transformation”, becoming “a sphere of influence at once more rapacious, acquisitive, and overweening but arguably more democratizing and ecumenical with respect to new audiences and artists involved” (87). Haacke’s reputation over this period has taken a similar shift, from him being a controversial opponent of art’s autonomy (an erudite postmodern conceptualist) to a figurehead for moral integrity and cohesive artistic experimentation.As Rosalyn Deutsche pointed out in the catalogue to Haacke’s 1986 exhibition, a potential trap of such a retrospective is that, through biographical positioning, Haacke might be seen as an “exemplary political artist” (210). With this, the specific political issues motivating his work would be overshadowed by the perception of the “great artist” – someone who brings single-issue politics into the narrative of postmodern art, but at the expense of the issues themselves. This is exactly what Douglas Crimp discovered in Unfinished Business. In a 1987 reflection on the show, Crimp argued that, when compared with an AIDS-themed display, Homo Video, staged at the New Museum at the same time, reviewers of Haacke’s exhibition tended to analyse his politics “within the context of the individual artist’s body of work … . Political issues became secondary to the aesthetic strategies of the producer” (34). Crimp, whose activism would be at the forefront of his career in subsequent years, was surprised at how Homo Video and Unfinished Business spawned different readings. Whereas works in the former exhibition tended to be addressed in terms of the artists personal and partisan politics, Haacke’s prompted reflection on the aesthetics-politics juxtaposition itself. For Crimp, the fact that “there was no mediation between these two shows”, spoke volumes about the divisions between political and activist art at the time.New York Times critic Michael Brenson, reiterating a comment made by Fredric Jameson in the catalogue for Unfinished Business, describes the timeless appearance of Haacke’s work in 1986, which is “surprising for an artist whose work is in some way about ideology and history” (Brenson). The implication is that the artist gives a surprisingly long aesthetic afterlife to the politically specific – to ordinarily short shelf-life issues. In this mode of critical postmodernism in which we are unable to distinguish clearly between intervening in and merely reproducing the logic of the system, Haacke is seen as an astute director of an albeit ambiguous push and pull between political specificity and aesthetic irreducibility, political externality and the internalist mode of art about art. Jameson, while granting that Haacke’s work highlights the need to reinvent the role of the “ruling class” in the complex, globalised socio-economic situation of postmodernism, claims that it does so as representative of the “new intellectual problematic” of postmodernism. Haacke, according Jameson, stages postmodernism’s “crisis of ‘mapping’” whereby capitalism’s totalizing, systemic forms are “handled” (note that he avoids “critiqued” or “challenged”) by focusing on their manifestation through particular (“micro-public”) institutional means (49, 50).We can think of the above examples as constituting the postmodern version of Haacke, who frames very specific political issues on the one hand, and the limitless incorporative power of appropriative practice on the other. To say this another way, Haacke, circa 1986, points to specific sites of power struggle at the same time as revealing their generic absorption by an art-world system grown accustomed to its “duplicate anything” parameters. For all of his political intent, the artistic realm, totalised in accordance with the postmodern image, is ultimately where many thought his gestures remained. The philosopher turned art critic Arthur Danto, in a negative review of Haacke’s exhibition, portrayed institutional critique as part of an age-old business of purifying art, maintaining that Haacke’s “crude” and “heavy-handed” practice is blind to how art institutions have always relied on some form of critique in order for them to continue being respected “brokers of spirit”. This perception – of Haacke’s “external” critiques merely serving to “internally” strengthen existing art structures – was reiterated by Leo Steinberg. Supportively misconstruing the artist in the exhibition catalogue, Steinberg writes that Haacke’s “political message, by dint of dissonance, becomes grating and shrill – but shrill within the art context. And while its political effectiveness is probably minimal, its effect on Minimal art may well be profound” (15). Hans Haacke, MOMA Poll, 1970 All ConnectedSo, what do we make of the transformed reception of Haacke’s work since the late 1980s: from a postmodern ouroboros of “politicizing aesthetics and aestheticizing politics” to a revelatory exemplar of art’s moral power? At a period in the late 1980s when the culture wars were in full swing and yet activist groups remained on the margins of what would become a “mainstream” art world, Unfinished Business was, perhaps, blindingly relevant to its times. Unusually for a retrospective, it provided little historical distance for its subject, with Haacke becoming a victim of the era’s propensity to “compartmentalize the interpretive registers of inside and outside and the terms corresponding to such spatial­izing coordinates” (Lee 83).If commentary surrounding this 2019 retrospective is anything to go by, politics no longer performs such a parasitic, oppositional or even dialectical relation to art; no longer is the political regarded as a real-world intrusion into the formal, discerning, longue-durée field of aesthetics. The fact that protests inside the museum have become more visible and vociferous in recent years testifies to this shift. For Jason Farrago, in his review of All Connected for the New York Times, “the fact that no person and no artwork stands alone, that all of us are enmeshed in systems of economic and social power, is for anyone under 40 a statement of the obvious”. For Alyssa Battistoni, in Frieze magazine, “if institutional critique is a practice, it is hard to see where it is better embodied than in organizing a union, strike or boycott”.Some responders to All Connected, such as Ben Lewis, acknowledge how difficult it is to extract a single critical or political strategy from Haacke’s body of work; however, we can say that, in general, earlier postmodern questions concerning the aestheticisation of the socio-political reveal no longer dominates the reception of his practice. Today, rather than treating art and politics are two separate but related entities, like form is to content, better ideas circulate, such as those espoused by Bruno Latour and Jacques Rancière, for whom what counts as political is not determined by a specific program, medium or forum, but by the capacity of any actor-network to disrupt and change a normative social fabric. Compare Jameson’s claim that Haacke’s corporate and museological tropes are “dead forms” – through which “no subject-position speaks, not even in protest” (38) – with Battistoni’s, who, seeing Haacke’s activism as implicit, asks the reader: “how can we take the relationship between art and politics as seriously as Haacke has insisted we must?”Crimp’s concern that Unfinished Business perpetuated an image of the artist as distant from the “political stakes” of his work did not carry through to All Connected, whose respondents were less vexed about the relation between art and politics, with many noting its timeliness. The New Museum was, ironically, undergoing its own equity crisis in the months leading up to the exhibition, with newly unionised staff fighting with the Museum over workers’ salaries and healthcare even as it organised to build a new $89-million Rem Koolhaas-designed extension. Battistoni addressed these disputes at-length, claiming the protests “crystallize perfectly the changes that have shaped the world over the half-century of Haacke’s career, and especially over the 33 years since his last New Museum exhibition”. Of note is how little attention Battistoni pays to Haacke’s artistic methods when recounting his assumed solidarity with these disputes, suggesting that works such as Creating Consent (1981), Helmosboro Country (1990), and Standortkultur (Corporate Culture) (1997) – which pivot on art’s public image versus its corporate umbilical cord – do not convey some special aesthetico-political insight into a totalizing capitalist system. Instead, “he has simply been an astute and honest observer long enough to remind us that our current state of affairs has been in formation for decades”.Hans Haacke, News, 1969/2008 Hans Haacke, Wide White Flow, 1967/2008 Showing Systems Early on in the 1960s, Haacke was influenced by the American critic, artist, and curator Jack Burnham, who in a 1968 essay, “Systems Esthetics” for Artforum, inaugurated the loose conceptualist paradigm that would become known as “systems art”. Here, against Greenbergian formalism and what he saw as the “craft fetishism” of modernism, Burnham argues that “change emanates, not from things, but from the way things are done” (30). Burnham thought that emergent contemporary artists were intuitively aware of the importance of the systems approach: the significant artist in 1968 “strives to reduce the technical and psychical distance between his artistic output and the productive means of society”, and pays particular attention to relationships between organic and non-organic systems (31).As Michael Fried observed of minimalism in his now legendary 1967 essay Art and Objecthood, this shift in sixties art – signalled by the widespread interest in the systematic – entailed a turn towards the spatial, institutional, and societal contexts of receivership. For Burnham, art is not about “material entities” that beautify or modify the environment; rather, art exists “in relations between people and between people and the components of their environment” (31). At the forefront of his mind was land art, computer art, and research-driven conceptualist practice, which, against Fried, has “no contrived confines such as the theatre proscenium or picture frame” (32). In a 1969 lecture at the Guggenheim, Burnham confessed that his research concerned not just art as a distinct entity, but aesthetics in its broadest possible sense, declaring “as far as art is concerned, I’m not particularly interested in it. I believe that aesthetics exists in revelation” (Ragain).Working under the aegis of Burnham’s systems art, Haacke was shaken by the tumultuous and televised politics of late-1960s America – a time when, according to Joan Didion, a “demented and seductive vortical tension was building in the community” (41). Haacke cites Martin Luther King’s assassination as an “incident that made me understand that, in addition to what I had called physical and biological systems, there are also social systems and that art is an integral part of the universe of social systems” (Haacke, Conversation 222). Haacke created News (1969) in response to this awareness, comprising a (pre-Twitter) telex machine that endlessly spits out live news updates from wire services, piling up rolls and rolls of paper on the floor of the exhibition space over the course of its display. Echoing Burnham’s idea of the artist as a programmer whose job is to “prepare new codes and analyze data”, News nonetheless presents the museum as anything but immune from politics, and technological systems as anything but impersonal (32).This intensification of social responsibility in Haacke’s work sets him apart from other, arguably more reductive techno-scientific systems artists such as Sonia Sheridan and Les Levine. The gradual transformation of his ecological and quasi-scientific sculptural experiments from 1968 onwards could almost be seen as making a mockery of the anthropocentrism described in Fried’s 1967 critique. Here, Fried claims not only that the literalness of minimalist work amounts to an emphasis on shape and spatial presence over pictorial composition, but also, in this “theatricality of objecthood” literalness paradoxically mirrors (153). At times in Fried’s essay the minimalist art object reads as a mute form of sociality, the spatial presence filled by the conscious experience of looking – the theatrical relationship itself put on view. Fried thought that viewers of minimalism were presented with themselves in relation to the entire world as object, to which they were asked not to respond in an engaged formalist sense but (generically) to react. Pre-empting the rise of conceptual art and the sociological experiments of post-conceptualist practice, Fried, unapprovingly, argues that minimalist artists unleash an anthropomorphism that “must somehow confront the beholder” (154).Haacke, who admits he has “always been sympathetic to so-called Minimal art” (Haacke, A Conversation 26) embraced the human subject around the same time that Fried’s essay was published. While Fried would have viewed this move as further illustrating the minimalist tendency towards anthropomorphic confrontation, it would be more accurate to describe Haacke’s subsequent works as social-environmental barometers. Haacke began staging interactions which, however dry or administrative, framed the interplays of culture and nature, inside and outside, private and public spheres, expanding art’s definition by looking to the social circulation and economy that supported it.Haacke’s approach – which seems largely driven to show, to reveal – anticipates the viewer in a way that Fried would disapprove, for whom absorbed viewers, and the irreduction of gestalt to shape, are the by-products of assessments of aesthetic quality. For Donald Judd, the promotion of interest over conviction signalled scepticism about Clement Greenberg’s quality standards; it was a way of acknowledging the limitations of qualitative judgement, and, perhaps, of knowledge more generally. In this way, minimalism’s aesthetic relations are not framed so much as allowed to “go on and on” – the artists’ doubt about aesthetic value producing this ongoing temporal quality, which conviction supposedly lacks.In contrast to Unfinished Business, the placing of Haacke’s early sixties works adjacent to his later, more political works in All Connected revealed something other than the tensions between postmodern socio-political reveal and modernist-formalist revelation. The question of whether to intervene in an operating system – whether to let such a system go on and on – was raised throughout the exhibition, literally and metaphorically. To be faced with the interactions of physical, biological, and social systems (in Condensation Cube, 1963-67, and Wide White Flow, 1967/2008, but also in later works like MetroMobiltan, 1985) is to be faced with the question of change and one’s place in it. Framing systems in full swing, at their best, Haacke’s kinetic and environmental works suggest two things: 1. That the systems on display will be ongoing if their component parts aren’t altered; and 2. Any alteration will alter the system as a whole, in minor or significant ways. Applied to his practice more generally, what Haacke’s work hinges on is whether or not one perceives oneself as part of its systemic relations. To see oneself implicated is to see beyond the work’s literal forms and representations. Here, systemic imbrication equates to moral realisation: one’s capacity to alter the system as the question of what to do. Unlike the phenomenology-oriented minimalists, the viewer’s participation is not always assumed in Haacke’s work, who follows a more hermeneutic model. In fact, Haacke’s systems are often circular, highlighting participation as a conscious disruption of flow rather than an obligation that emanates from a particular work (148).This is a theatrical scenario as Fried describes it, but it is far from an abandonment of the issue of profound value. In fact, if we accept that Haacke’s work foregrounds intervention as a moral choice, it is closer to Fried’s own rallying cry for conviction in aesthetic judgement. As Rex Butler has argued, Fried’s advocacy of conviction over sceptical interest can be understood as dialectical in the Hegelian sense: conviction is the overcoming of scepticism, in a similar way that Geist, or spirit, for Hegel, is “the very split between subject and object, in which each makes the other possible” (Butler). What is advanced for Fried is the idea of “a scepticism that can be remarked only from the position of conviction and a conviction that can speak of itself only as this scepticism” (for instance, in his attempt to overcome his scepticism of literalist art on the basis of its scepticism). Strong and unequivocal feelings in Fried’s writing are informed by weak and indeterminate feeling, just as moral conviction in Haacke – the feeling that I, the viewer, should do something – emerges from an awareness that the system will continue to function fine without me. In other words, before being read as “a barometer of the changing and charged atmosphere of the public sphere” (Sutton 16), the impact of Haacke’s work depends upon an initial revelation. It is the realisation not just that one is embroiled in a series of “invisible but fundamental” relations greater than oneself, but that, in responding to seemingly sovereign social systems, the question of our involvement is a moral one, a claim for determination founded through an overcoming of the systemic (Fry 31).Haacke’s at once open and closed works suit the logic of our algorithmic age, where viewers have to shift constantly from a position of being targeted to one of finding for oneself. Peculiarly, when Haacke’s online digital polls in All Connected were hacked by activists (who randomized statistical responses in order to compel the Museum “to redress their continuing complacency in capitalism”) the culprits claimed they did it in sympathy with his work, not in spite of it: “we see our work as extending and conversing with Haacke’s, an artist and thinker who has been a source of inspiration to us both” (Hakim). This response – undermining done with veneration – is indicative of the complicated legacy of his work today. Haacke’s influence on artists such as Tania Bruguera, Sam Durant, Forensic Architecture, Laura Poitras, Carsten Höller, and Andrea Fraser has less to do with a particular political ideal than with his unique promotion of journalistic suspicion and moral revelation in forms of systems mapping. It suggests a coda be added to the sentiment of All Connected: all might not be revealed, but how we respond matters. Hans Haacke, Large Condensation Cube, 1963–67ReferencesBattistoni, Alyssa. “After a Contract Fight with Its Workers, the New Museum Opens Hans Haacke’s ‘All Connected’.” Frieze 208 (2019).Bishara, Hakim. “Hans Haacke Gets Hacked by Activists at the New Museum.” Hyperallergic 21 Jan. 2010. <https://hyperallergic.com/538413/hans-haacke-gets-hacked-by-activists-at-the-new-museum/>.Brenson, Michael. “Art: In Political Tone, Works by Hans Haacke.” New York Times 19 Dec. 1988. <https://www.nytimes.com/1986/12/19/arts/artin-political-tone-worksby-hans-haacke.html>.Buchloh, Benjamin. “Hans Haacke: Memory and Instrumental Reason.” Neo-Avantgarde and Culture Industry. Cambridge: MIT P, 2000.Burnham, Jack. “Systems Esthetics.” Artforum 7.1 (1968).Butler, Rex. “Art and Objecthood: Fried against Fried.” Nonsite 22 (2017). <https://nonsite.org/feature/art-and-objecthood>.Carrion-Murayari, Gary, and Massimiliano Gioni (eds.). Hans Haacke: All Connected. New York: Phaidon and New Museum, 2019.Crimp, Douglas. “Strategies of Public Address: Which Media, Which Publics?” In Hal Foster (ed.), Discussions in Contemporary Culture, no. 1. Washington: Bay P, 1987.Danto, Arthur C. “Hans Haacke and the Industry of Art.” In Gregg Horowitz and Tom Huhn (eds.), The Wake of Art: Criticism, Philosophy, and the Ends of Taste. London: Routledge, 1987/1998.Didion, Joan. The White Album. London: 4th Estate, 2019.Farago, Jason. “Hans Haacke, at the New Museum, Takes No Prisoners.” New York Times 31 Oct. 2019. <https://www.nytimes.com/2019/10/31/arts/design/hans-haacke-review-new-museum.html>.Fried, Michael. “Art and Objecthood.” Artforum 5 (June 1967).Fry, Edward. “Introduction to the Work of Hans Haacke.” In Hans Haacke 1967. Cambridge: MIT List Visual Arts Center, 2011.Glueck, Grace. “The Guggenheim Cancels Haacke’s Show.” New York Times 7 Apr. 1971.Gudel, Paul. “Michael Fried, Theatricality and the Threat of Skepticism.” Michael Fried and Philosophy. New York: Routledge, 2018.Haacke, Hans. Hans Haacke: Framing and Being Framed: 7 Works 1970-5. Halifax: P of the Nova Scotia College of Design and New York: New York UP, 1976.———. “Hans Haacke in Conversation with Gary Carrion-Murayari and Massimiliano Gioni.” Hans Haacke: All Connected. New York: Phaidon and New Museum, 2019.Haacke, Hans, et al. “A Conversation with Hans Haacke.” October 30 (1984).Haacke, Hans, and Brian Wallis (eds.). Hans Haacke: Unfinished Business. New York: New Museum of Contemporary Art; Cambridge, Mass: MIT P, 1986.“Haacke’s ‘All Connected.’” Frieze 25 Oct. 2019. <https://frieze.com/article/after-contract-fight-its-workers-new-museum-opens-hans-haackes-all-connected>.Judd, Donald. “Specific Objects.” Complete Writings 1959–1975. Halifax: P of the Nova Scotia College of Design and New York: New York UP, 1965/1975.Lee, Pamela M. “Unfinished ‘Unfinished Business.’” Hans Haacke: All Connected. New York: Phaidon P Limited and New Museum, 2019.Ragain, Melissa. “Jack Burnham (1931–2019).” Artforum 19 Mar. 2019. <https://www.artforum.com/passages/melissa-ragain-on-jack-burnham-78935>.Sutton, Gloria. “Hans Haacke: Works of Art, 1963–72.” Hans Haacke: All Connected. New York: Phaidon P Limited and New Museum, 2019.Tucker, Marcia. “Director’s Forward.” Hans Haacke: Unfinished Business. New York: New Museum of Contemporary Art; Cambridge, Mass: MIT P, 1986.