Artículos de revistas sobre el tema "International Congress for Modern Architecture 1933)"

Over a period of nearly one hundred years, Raul Lino (1879-1974) experienced the profound political, social and economic changes that marked the twentieth century in Portugal. Having been born during the Constitutional Monarchy (1822-1910), he lived through the First Republic (1910-1926), the Military Dictatorship (1926-1933), the Second Republic, or Estado Novo (New State, 1933-1974), and died shortly after the Carnation Revolution of 25 April 1974, at the dawning of the Third Republic. He was an architect who published prolifically in Portugal, having become known through his advocacy of the Campanha da casa Portuguesa (Portuguese House Campaign), which provoked a great deal of controversy. The debate peaked with the Polémica da casa Portuguesa (Polemic of the Portuguese house) at the Calouste Gulbenkian Foundation in 1970, after the inauguration of the retrospective exhibition on Raul Lino. He is less known for the quality of his transversal synthesis conceived between urbanism, architecture, the decorative arts, and its underlying affirmation of an idea of the city, which we conjecture from our analysis of his narrative. This analysis concentrates on eleven case studies that encompasses architectural projects, urbanistic plans and technical advice limited to the first half of the 20th century. The broad, cross-disciplinary position of Lino was defended in the same year as the First National Architecture Congress (1948), whose proposals ratified in Portugal the orthodoxy principles of modern architecture and urban planning for the new universal man-type, established in 1933 by the International Congresses of Modern Architecture (CIAM). Quoting Aristotle, Raul Lino conceived the city as the locus of happiness, shaping forms of consensus between tradition and modernity by means of an architecture at the scale of man and in proportion to his circumstance, consistently outlining a modern possibility of continuity.

AbstractThe period 1922-1943 —the so-called fascist venthenium— was a fruitful and creative time in Italian architecture. Its rich and plural fundamentals established singular relationships between classical and modern cultures, which transcends their historical moment and present new topics for analysis and reflection. To know and appreciate its architecture, we will use the journeys of the professionals who came to Rome from all over the world to participate in the International Congress of Architects in 1935, considering the Congress as a space of opportunity for that reflection, and taking the visits around Rome scheduled by the organizers as a source of the architectural and urban interests of its time, and a reflection of the trends that were stirring then in Italy.ResumenEl periodo entre 1922 y 1943 —el llamado ventenio fascista— fue una época fecunda y creativa en la arquitectura italiana. Sus bases ricas y plurales establecieron relaciones singulares entre el mundo cultural clásico y el moderno, que trascienden su momento histórico y plantean en nues-tros días nuevos temas de análisis y reflexión. Para conocer y valorar su arquitectura y su modelo urbano, nos serviremos del viaje al que fueron llevados los profesionales que de todo el mundo llegaron a Roma para participar en el Congreso Internacional de Arquitectos en 1935, considerando el Congreso como un espacio de oportunidad para esa reflexión y tomando las visitas a la ciudad programadas por los organizadores como fuente de los intereses arquitectónicos y urbanos de su tiempo, reflejo de las tendencias que se agitaban entonces en Italia.

Addressing the complex legacies of the past in architectural education and built constructions, calls for a reconsidering of the principles of architectural design and conservation. The current challenges of housing, sustainable development and heritage adaptation present huge dilemmas for architects. Yet today architects are only by exception trained to detect heritage values prior to drafting their interventions for adaptive reuse or upgrading. To this day, Western architectural thinking is influenced by the Vitruvian triad Firmitas, Utilitas and Venustas, and the truncated maxim ‘Form Follows Function’ as disseminated by the protagonists of the Modern Movement. These established a divide between the design for new-build and the care of already existing buildings. This divide is marked by the two Charters of Athens: the 1931 Carta del Restauro adopted at the First International Congress of Architects and Technicians of Historic Monuments, and La Chartre d’Athènes presented by Le Corbusier as a result of the 4th CIAM Congress on the Functional City (1933). This paper attempts to bridge the identified divide by adding the idea of ‘Dignitas’ (dignity) as an equal virtue to the Vitruvian triad. Though not new for itself, this concept may aid to raise awareness of architectural dignity in extant buildings. Keywords: architectural theory, architectural education, conservation theory, Renovation Challenge, Dignitas

The Austrian philosopher Otto Neurath (Vienna 1882 - Oxford 1945) was the only non-architect who participated in the fourth CIAM conference (Congrès International d'Architecture Moderne) that took place in Athens in the summer of 1933. As we read in the minutes of the congress published in the journal of the Technical Chamber of Greece Technika Chronika (Technical Chronicles), it was at the meeting of 13 August 1933 that CIAM members decided to set up two categories of participants: a) partners (mainly young architects and students of architecture), and b) specific members (non-architects participating as full members). The one and only such member was Otto Neurath. Neurath was invited as a representative of the Mundaneum in Vienna in order to cooperate with the CIAM Committee of Statistics which had as its task to collect, review and process statistical data relating to some of the most important cities of the Western world. As noted in the minutes of the congress: ‘The Committee of Statistics in cooperation with the Vienna Mundaneum will collect, review and edit the necessary statistical material which will remain as the property of the Conference.’

Madrid architects of the 20th century had little inclination, if any, to be gregarious. Remember their token presence in the first International Congresses of Modern Architecture (CIAM), a presence which had altogether vanished by the time of the fourth CIAM conference, which took place aboard the S.S. Patris. The only Spaniards we find in Athens in the summer of 1933 are Raimon Torres Clavé, Josep Lluís Sert, Antonio Bonet Castellana, Josep Torres Clavé, and Cristófol Alzamora. There is no sign of architects from Madrid. So who explained Madrid as a functional city?

Discourse in the field of architecture and urban planning remained essentially the same in Croatia from the 1930s until the Second World War, and then until the mid 1950s, despite radically changing socio-political systems. This should be credited to Zagreb-based ‘salaried architects’. In the 1930s, they pointed to a major social problem—the substandard living conditions present throughout the country. Questioning the implementation of projects and plans within liberal capitalism, some even entered politics. In post-war socialist Yugoslavia, the circumstances radically changed. Reviewing these pre-war and post-war stages as a single process, this article highlights to the contributions of architect Vladimir Antolić (1903–1981), one of the first trained urban planners in Croatia and a member of International Congress of Modern Architecture. It will demonstrate how his work on the Zagreb Regulation Plan helped to define key issues of urban planning practices in Yugoslavia and show the significance of the so-called European ‘periphery’ in the modern movement’s narrative.

At the end of the twentieth century, the Azerbaijani Republic gained independence and, in this regard, began a new stage in the development of the country. With the advent of the outstanding statesman Heydar Aliyev to the leadership of the republic, and then Ilham Aliyev, the rapid development of the economy of Azerbaijan began. This entailed, along with the development of all areas of industry and agriculture, the development of the construction industry. Large-scale housing construction has begun in all cities and towns. Especially large-scale construction has begun in the city of Baku. At the beginning of the 21st century, as well as throughout the world, models of the future development of housing are emerging in Azerbaijan. Meeting the housing needs of people is a primary task of urban planning and architecture. According to the theses of «International Congress of Modern Architects» (SIAM), which were laid down in 1933 in «Athens Charter», the dwelling is subordinated to four main vital functions: work, life in home, rest, and transportation. Modern housing does not include only personal life; it is an essential and integral part of the overall social life process. A study of the process of life of the population clearly shows that all the functions of their vital activities are interconnected. This applies both to a person’s participation in the social production of material and spiritual values, to his participation in cultural life and to the restoration of his physical and spiritual strength. A complex life process requires an environment that functions as a system in which the apartment is only one of the elements.

"„Sok szíves üdvözlettel régi barátos...” (“With kind regards, your old friend...”). Coriolan Petranu’s Friendly Connections to the Hungarian Historians. Coriolan Petranu is the founder of modern art history education and scientific research in Transylvania. He had received special education in this field of study that is relatively new in the region. He started his studies in 1911 at the University of Budapest, attending courses in law and art history. During the 1912-1913 academic year he joined the class of Professor Adolph Goldschmiedt (1863-1944) at the Friedrich-Wilhelm University in Berlin. The professor was an illustrious personality from the same generation as art historians Emil Mâle, Wilhelm Vögte, Bernard Berenson, Roger Fry, Aby Warburg, and Heinrich Wölfflin, specialists who had provided a decisive impetus to art historical research during the twentieth century. In the end of 1913, Coriolan Petranu favored Vienna, with its prestigious art historical school attached to the university from the capital of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. There he completed and perfected his education under the supervision of Professor Josef Strzygowski (1862-1941). The latter scholar was highly appreciated for his contributions to the field of universal art history by including the cultures of Asia Minor (Syria, Mesopotamia, Armenia, and Persia), revealing the influence that this area had on proto-Christian art, as well as by researching ancient art in Northern Europe. In March 1920 the young art historian successfully defended his doctoral dissertation entitled Inhaltsproblem und Kunstgeschichte (”Content and art history”). He thus earned his doctor in philosophy title that opened him access to higher education teaching and art history research. His debut was positively marked by his activity as museographer at the Fine Art Museum in Budapest (Szepműveszeti Muzeum) in 1917-1918. Coriolan Petranu has researched Romanian vernacular architecture (creating a topography of wooden churches in Transylvania) and his publications were appreciated, published in the era’s specialized periodicals and volumes or presented during international congresses (such as those held in Stockholm in 1933, Warsaw in 1933, Sofia in 1934, Basel in 1936 and Paris in 1937). The Transylvanian art historian under analysis has exchanged numerous letters with specialists in the field. The valuable lot of correspondence, comprising several thousands of letters that he has received from the United States of America, Great Britain, Spain, France, Switzerland, The Netherlands, Denmark, Sweden, Norway, Finland, Estonia, Latvia, Czechoslovakia, Austria, Hungary, Poland, the USSR, Serbia, Bulgaria, and Egypt represents a true history of the stage and development of art history as a field of study during the Interwar Period. The archive of the Art History Seminary of the University in Cluj preserves one section dedicated to Hungarian letters that he has send to Hungarian specialists, art historians, ethnographers, ethnologists or colleagues passionate about fine art (Prof. Gerevich Tibor, Prof. Takács Zoltán, Dr. Viski Károly, Count Dr. Teleki Domokos). His correspondence with Fritz Valjavec, editor of the “Südostdeutsche Forschungen” periodical printed in München, is also significant and revealing. The letters in question reveal C. Petranu’s significant contribution through his reviews of books published by Hungarian art historians and ethnographers. Beyond the theoretical debates during which Prof. Petranu has criticized the theories formulated by Prof. Gerevich’s school that envisaged the globalization of Hungarian art between the Middle Ages and the Early Modern Period and that also included in this general category the works of German masters and artists with other ethnic backgrounds, he has also displayed a friendly attitude and appreciation for the activity/works of his Hungarian colleagues (Viski Károly and Takács Zoltán). The previously unpublished Romanian-Hungarian and Hungarian-Romanian set of letters discussed here attest to this. Keywords: Transylvania, correspondence, vernacular architecture, reviews, photographs, Gerevich Tibor, Dr. Viski Károly "

This paper will present an analytical review of doctrinal texts that have been key for the shaping of integrated urban conservation practice internationally: from the Athens Charter to the Historic Urban Landscape Convention. The 1931 Athens Charter for the Restoration of Historic Monuments was published at the same time when the Congres Internationaux d’Architecture Moderne was summing up its controversial urbanist ideology in its own Charte d'Athènes of 1933. Whilst the Athens Charter focused on technical aspects of monument restoration, the preceding debate showed a raising interest in historic urban areas. CIAM’s Charter too, despite including a section regarding historic urban areas, limited its recommendations to the protection of individual monuments or ensembles. Substantial research of historic centres in European countries preceded the first national legislations and international charters targeted specifically at urban areas in 1960s and 70s. Notably, the 1964 Venice International Charter for the Conservation and Restoration of Monuments and Sites finally extended the concepts of restoration and rehabilitation of monuments to protected areas such as historical city centres, recommending expanded heritage protection legislation worldwide. European national legislations followed suit. In 1975, the European Architectural Heritage Year had seen also the first charter promoting the conservation of the historic built environment as a whole. However, by the end of the 20th century, despite a good number of further doctrinal texts being adopted internationally, and the publication of numerous books, articles and reports touching on the problematic of urban conservation, the paucity of theoretical and conceptual advance of this field remained evident. The delay in giving a sound theoretical structure to the field of urban conservation has been, quite understandably, due to the complexity of the urban environment and the ensuing difficulty of separating out the effects of different variables at work within it. Charters over the past three decades call for an integration of planning and urban conservation based on an appraisal of the historic urban fabric and its community, an approach which should eventually provide a more sustainable urban development. This means understanding and evaluating the significance of place, on one hand, and drawing out management implications for protecting this significance and identifying opportunities for change, on the other. The 2011 Historic Urban Landscape Recommendation goes some way to internationalise the theory and practice that has been developed so far predominantly within the European context. There are many issues that have been raised through charters over the last hundred years, and many still need a proper theoretical framework that can allow them to be used in practice widely, beyond the places with strong heritage conservation traditions and legislations.

In an interview recorded shortly before his death in 1987, Maxwell Fry recalled the birth of Modern architecture in Great Britain around a half-century earlier. In the course of discussing the work of the Modern Architectural Research (MARS) Group — the society that he had helped to establish in February 1933 and of which he was then the last surviving founder-member — Fry highlighted the links between architects in Britain and their continental European counterparts. Observing that MARS was first established on the basis of an invitation that Wells Coates had received to form a British chapter of the Congrès Internationaux d’Architecture Moderne (CIAM), he noted that the Group had immediately gained an entrée into an international forum that functioned as a unique gathering point for the architectural avant-garde. At the same time, he asserted that membership brought with it commitments that conferred ‘a very serious responsibility’.CIAM was not, of course, the only conduit for the links that MARS members had with the wider world, but in many ways it was the MARS Group’s relationship with the ‘international community of modern architects […] made visible in the foundation of CIAM’ which defined it and differentiated it from other architectural groupings of its day. Most other such bodies initially coalesced around a single manifesto or exhibition and then quickly fell apart when their members found that they had little in common apart from an enthusiasm for Modernism. By contrast, MARS retained an enduring purpose through its membership of CIAM.

The article is devoted to the creative heritage of Charles Rennie Mackintosh (1868–1928), the outstanding Scottish architect and Margaret MacDonald Macintosh (1865–1933), his wife, an artist-designer. Their life and main character traits which predetermined the choice of their future profession are considered. A brief overview is given to the main stages of their professional development. In the Glasgow School of arts they organized the famous creative group „The Four‟ which created a unique Glasgow style. They participated in international exhibitions of Art Nouvea, engaged in successful architectural and design practice including the development of unique geometrical pictures and Macintosh style furniture, floral and landscape paintings. The paper describes the tragic end of their creative career, departure from Glasgow, posthumous rehabilitation and international recognition. Their style preferences in the world architecture and design are shown as well specific features of their unique style. The articlepresents three of the most famous design projects of the Macintosh spouses made in the tradition of Glasgow style. Here belong interiors of Cranston tea rooms, Hill House in Helensburgh, Scotland and Bassett-Lowke Northampton house. At present, many Macintoshes works are successfully restored, their museums and exhibitions are organized.

At the twelfth congress of the International Federation of Housing and Town Planning (IFHTP), held in Rome in September 1929, a set of thirteen “model” affordable houses situated in the garden suburb of Garbatella were presented to the delegates. While generally recognized as shining fragments from a distinctly “Roman” register of idiosyncratic architectural modernism, the dwellings of Garbatella’s Lot XXIV also deserve to be reappraised as a key symbolic moment in the history of interwar Italian architecture and urban planning—and as an alternative vision for a scalable model of modern “minimum dwelling” ( Existenzminimum). I analyze the project in the context of the 1929 IFHTP congress in Rome as a carefully staged attempt to juxtapose an alternative, “third way” vision of architectural design for urban social housing that sought to accommodate the emerging international modernist canon of functionality with individual architectural design and respect for regional building traditions.

AbstractBauhas is one of school of design in Germany which combine between art and craft. It was found by Walter Gropius who was and German Architect. Although Bauhas was only last for 15 years ( 19-19-1933) , it has huge impact to design and architecture. Besides the Bauhas artwork broke through the existing design inhtat period of time, the published book are used in school of design around the world. even the international style such as simple and use primery color also geometric shape become the part of modern design. The learning philosophy is also used until now which is learning by doing through studio system and workshop in school of design AbstrakBauhaaus adalah sekolah desain pertama di Jerman yang menyatukan anatara seni dan kriya . Didirikan oleh Walter Gropius seoranh arsitek Jerman. Meskipun hanya berdiri selama 15 tahun ( 1919-1933) pengaruhnya besar terhadap desain dan arsitektur. Selain karya-karya yang dihasilkan mendobrak rancangan yang telah ada, buku-buku yang dipublikasikan juga menjadi acuan sekolah-sekolah desain seluruh dunia. Bahkan gaya yang dinaut, seperti sederhana dan menggunakan warna primer serta bentuk geometris tetap menjadi acuan desain modern. Bhakan filosofi embelajarannya juga diterapkan hingga kini, yaitu learning by doing melalui sistem studio dan bengkel kerja di sekolah-sekolah

This article reconsiders the development of Fascist architecture throughout the late interwar period. It pays especial attention to the structures erected for the most significant international expositions held, or planned to be held, between 1933 and 1942, in order to identify significant trends in Party-sponsored design. It argues that the ‘dynamism’ of Fascist design was a consequence of the regime's preference for an increasingly imperial tone which developed in direct proportion to its increasingly imperial identity. It points to Piacentini and Pagano's Italian Pavilion built for the 1937 Paris Exposition, the first national pavilion constructed following the May 1936 proclamation of empire, as a significant flashpoint in the tension between Fascist interpretations of modern and classical design. This article concludes that the often-overlooked world's fair buildings can be viewed as crystalline distillations of the stylistic experimentation which defined the broader Fascist building programme both in Italy and abroad.

Vargha Lászlóban (1904–1984) az utókor elsősorban a néprajztudóst tiszteli, jóllehet szakmai pályája kiterjedt a muzeológiára és az építészettörténetre is. E három tudományterülettel életszakaszonként eltérő mértékben foglalkozott. Tevékenységét mindhárom diszciplína esetében áthatotta a finnek építészete iránti érdeklődés. Cikkemben életútját e szempontból vizsgálom, felhasználva a Szentendrei Szabadtéri Néprajzi Múzeumban őrzött archívumát. Fiatalkorának meghatározó élmenyei kötődnek a finnekhez. Személyes visszaemlékezése alapján Vargha a finn építészettel és művészettel gyermekkorában ismerkedett meg egy magyar folyóiratban. Pályakezdőként csereprogrammal jut el Finnországba és köt barátságot finnekkel. A második világháború idején közreműködik egy finnugor kiállítás összeállításában Budapesten és Kolozsvárott. Mindeközben gyűjti és jegyzeteli a finn néprajzi szakirodalmat. A háborút követően a nemzetközi kapcsolattartás lehetőségei szűkülnek, Vargha is csak később tér viszsza a finn kultúrához. A hatvanas években a helyszínen tanulmányozza a szabadtéri néprajzi gyűjteményeket – köztük számos északit –, melynek tanulságaival hozzájárul a Szentendrei Szabadtéri Néprajzi Múzeum – svéd szóval: a skanzen – létrejöttéhez. Oktatóként az egyetemi órákon is tanítja a kortárs finn építészetet. Előadásokon, kiállításokon mutatja be itthon Finnország építészetével kapcsolatos ismereteit. Emellett szakmailag legkiemelkedőbb fellépései a finnugor kongresszusokhoz köthetők, melyekben visszatér egy őt korábban is foglalkoztató témakörhöz; melynek értelmében a magyar népi építészetnek létezik egy ősi, finnugor rétege. Sikereit árnyalja, hogy pályája végén több jelentős publikációs lehetőséggel nem élt. Egyéb érdemei mellett Vargha László kiemelkedő alakja a finn–magyar kulturális kapcsolatoknak, a finnekkel kapcsolatos kiemelkedő munkássága pedig önálló fejezettel gazdagíthatja pályája értékelését. László Vargha (1904–1984) is considered a prominent ethnographer in Hungary, albeit he was active in museology and history of architecture as well. During his career he had shifted between these topics. His contribution to all three disciplines was affected with a profound interest in Finnish art and architecture. My article investigates his professional career in the light of his appeal, using the sources preserved in his personal archive in the Hungarian Open-Air Museum. Vargha had determinative experience related to Finland during his youth. His first encounter with Finnish art was in the pages of a Hungarian periodical in his childhood. In an exchange programme he visited Finland and made friends with his peers. During the Second World War he contributed to an exhibition on Finno-Ugric peoples. The archives reveal that he had studied Finnish ethnographic literature in this period. Possibilities for maintaining international relationships were reduced after the fall of the Iron Curtain. Vargha returned to Finnish culture only after a significant interval. In the sixties he conducted a study trip to various open-air museums. Many of those destinations were in Sweden and Finland. The study trip contributed to the foundation of the Hungarian Open-Air Museum, which still borrows its name in Hungarian from the Nordic Museum: skanzen. As a university lecturer he introduced Finnish architecture to the curriculum. Vargha presented Finnish architecture in lectures and exhibitions across Hungary. He also participated in the International Congress for Finno-Ugric Studies, where he revisited the concept that an archaic Finno-Ugric layer is present in Hungarian vernacular architecture. Despite the possibilities offered and his thorough knowledge he failed to publish significant publications at the end of his career. Apart from his other achievements László Vargha was also an important character in the relationship of Finnish and Hungarian architecture, and his outstanding oeuvre related to Finland could enrich his professional evaluation.

Brazilian historiography on modern architecture, replicated by international authors, confirms the importance and the pioneer stance of Gregori Ilitch Warchavchik (1896-1972)/Mina Klabin’s (1896-1969) 1927-1932 architecture in São Paulo, and the 1126 Bahia Street (Luiz da Silva Prado) house, 1930-1931, São Paulo, Brazil, is a remarkable example of their initial set of houses. Its design dialogues with other houses simultaneously designed by Adolf Loos (1870-1933), Le Corbusier (1887-1965), Juan O’Gorman (1905-1982), and the connections among all these modernist pieces and their authors suggest the informal existence of an interconnected network of creators, spread across continents. Likewise, they all put forward proselytizing strategies to amplify the repercussion of their works through exhibitions, publications, and debates. The generous internal spaces of this house on Bahia Street, the steady play of its geometrical composition, and its wise topographical and innovative landscape arrangements are well balanced, providing the authors’ aim of both making a manifesto and providing the site and the client’s necessities with an appropriate individual solution. The house has been used as a commercial space in recent decades, but it has been properly maintained and it is still in good shape.

The British architect Oliver Hill (1887–1968) was an important and influential figure in the inter-war period. His ability to cross the boundaries of architectural style ensured career longevity and success, but invited a reputation as a half-hearted Modernist, lacking the rigour of his Modern Architectural Research (MARS) Group contemporaries. This view was acknowledged by the MARS chairman Wells Coates (1895–1958), in an early group memorandum of 1933, where he asserted that: ‘Certain people [including Oliver Hill] who are popularly and notoriously known as “modern” architects do not qualify in our sense.’ Unquestionably, there were two sides to Hill’s architecture, as he himself recognized in 1937: ‘Today, my love is divided between the new and the old.’While the MARS Group stuck rigidly to the dogma of the Modern Movement, Hill’s understanding and application of Modernism developed throughout the 1930s. Hill’s Modern buildings chronicle his shifting concept of modernity, reflecting the numerous sub-movements and strands of Modernism in inter-war Britain rather than any halfheartedness in his approach. Commonly remembered for his glitzy early examples of ‘the new’, such as Joldwynds (1930–32) and the Midland Hotel in Morecambe (1932–33), Hill’s Modernism was initially based upon a use of glass and silvered surfaces that straddled Art Deco and the International Style. Yet opulence was gradually replaced by a social concern focused on children’s welfare, evident in a series of exhibits, unrealized projects and school buildings. Hill’s later inter-war Modernism also reflected a wider move toward local materials and construction techniques that acknowledged the peculiarity of English conditions. This article contextualizes Hill’s adoption of Modernism and explores his public work of the late 1930s that combined his fascination for the new with his respect for national tradition.

Residential buildings dating back to the late 19th and early 20th century constitute an important element of the urban composition of many European cities, often determining their overall spatial expression. These buildings often require revitalization and sometimes also reconstruction or extension. Such activities make it possible to restore historical buildings to their former glory, but also to create new architecture, inscribed in the context of the place, yet bearing witness to modern times. Revitalization of historically and architecturally valuable but technically degraded residential buildings is one of the important elements of maintaining and sometimes rebuilding the image of modern cities and their sustainable development. However, revitalization activities require solving many problems of conservational nature, especially issues related to preserving the authenticity of the existing tissue, ways of reconstructing lost elements, and connecting historical architecture with contemporary architecture. Historic residential buildings of Sopot, a city located in Poland on the shores of the Baltic Sea, dating back to the late 19th and early 20th century, provide excellent research material for such considerations. In the article, the historical center of Sopot was examined, with particular emphasis on the historic Willa Halina from 1896 located there, which was revitalized (according to the design of the author of the article). Using such research methods as analysis of historical source material (iconography), observation (operationalization of preserved historical objects), comparative analysis of contemporary investments, and analysis of the revitalization design of “Willa Halina”, an attempt was made to present spatial and technical solutions leading to the desired effects in the revitalization process. This work aims to show (on the example of Willa Halina in Sopot) the author’s method of revitalizing valuable, historical residential buildings, complying with international conservation standards, including the Venice Charter, adopted in 1964 by the Second International Congress of Architects and Technicians of Historical Monuments. The paper also aims to present spatial and technical solutions leading to desired effects in the revitalization process, consistent with the idea of sustainable development.

The erosion of the unipolar system of international relations, accelerated as a result of the turbulent events of 2022, is returning experts in the field of international relations to discuss the phenomenon of the balance of power and its embodiment in various models. During the thirty-year period, following the end of the Cold War (1991–2021), the system of interstate relations went through periods when unipolar, bipolar and multipolar models were considered optimal. This article, based on the author’s address at the plenary session of the First Saint-Petersburg Congress of International Studies, proposes a political and economic interpretation of the consequences that the member states of the world community will face at a new stage in the transformation of the modern architecture of international relations in the 21st century through the mechanism of the balance of power. The trend of reducing state power in comparison with the growing economic power of market institutions and business structures in the modern era has been replaced by a reverse trend. It is characterized by the “return of the state” against the backdrop of a global system in crisis. The absence of a hegemonic state in the new system leads to the destruction of the foundations of the international liberal order, the formation of a decentralized system of alliances of states, an increase in the number and scale of economic conflicts, expressed both in the formation of regional trade blocks and in the expansion of the practice of applying economic sanctions as a substitute for armed conflicts of the past. A new era in the political and economic development of the planet, in which new actors will replace the superpowers of the past, should be characterized as a period of competitive interdependence. The coming years will show what will prevail — competition, extolled by representatives of the realistic school of the theory of international relations, i. e. inter-country/inter-bloc rivalry, or interdependence raised to the shield by the liberals.

Se recopilan y analizan las publicaciones, de y sobre Le Corbusier, en Norteamérica, en el periodo de entreguerras, que corresponde con la difusión inicial de sus ideas e incluye su participación en la Modern Architecture International Exhibition del MoMA en 1932, su muestra de pintura en la galería Becker en 1933 y el viaje con exposición de 1935. Durante esta época se consolidaron en Estados Unidos la estandarización industrial, la automoción o los fenómenos urbanos complejos, que atrajeron a Le Corbusier, y propiciaron allí el interés por sus alegatos sobre la máquina. Se aporta un listado actualizado, operativo y más completo, que permite hacer una mínima bibliometría, con 15 textos de Le Corbusier y 73 de otros autores. Muchos eran antiguos colaboradores (Rice, Frey, Stonorov) o admiradores en torno al MoMA, con Hitchcock a la cabeza (Kocher, Barr, Heap, Lescaze, Hood). Hubo alguna respuesta crítica de figuras como Wright, Fuller, Bauer o Mumford. Destacaron determinados medios e instituciones favorables (<em>Architectural Record</em>, <em>The New York Times</em>, The Studio, MoMA, Architectural League). En cuanto al formato, no se trata de estudios académicos ni metodológicos, sino alegatos breves y provocadores, con el hábil recurso a titulares e imágenes propias, en paralelo al texto. La temática principal no fue su obra construida, sino sus propuestas urbanas.

Each biological species of animals is unique in its structure, which is due to the uniqueness of ecological habitats and the peculiarities of adaptation of homeostasis mechanisms to the influence of environmental factors. Subtle differences in the structural and functional components of organs found in different species of animals create a clear architecture for understanding the depth of biological processes. Research of species, breed and age macro- and microanatomical structures and their morphometric indicators of organs and systems should be considered as urgent tasks of modern morphology. The new data on the morphological indicators of organs discovered at the macro- and micro-levels make a certain contribution to the age-related, breed-related, comparative, experimental and clinical morphology of mammals. Urinary organs in the body of mammals play one of the leading roles in maintaining the physiological and biochemical status of the organism and homeostasis as a whole, which largely depends directly on the morphological and functional state of these organs. Increasingly, there is a need for comprehensive scientific studies of various departments of the urinary organs. The scientific article uses material that is a fragment of the planned research work of the department of normal and pathological morphology, hygiene and expertise “Development, morphology and histochemistry of animal organs in normal and pathological conditions”, state registration number 0120U100796. The article contains the results of the morphometric characteristics of the kidneys of sexually mature dogs – Canis lupus familiaris L., 1758. During the implementation of this work, complex research methods were applied: anatomical, histological, morphometric and statistical. For histological examination, a fragment of kidneys was selected, they were fixed in 10 % neutral formalin solution, Carnois and Buena fluid. In the future, dehydration was carried out in alcohols of increasing concentration and the procedure for sealing the organ was carried out according to generally accepted methods. Using a sled microtome, histological sections with a thickness of 7–10 μm were obtained. Processing of the results of histological sections was examined under a “Micros” light microscope with a digital camera at a magnification of × 100–400. The morphological study of the structural organs of the urinary system was studied on histological sections by the method of light microscopy in accordance with the requirements of the international principles of the “European Convention for the Protection of Vertebrate Animals Used in Experiments and Other Scientific Purposes” (Strasbourg, 1986), by the decision of the First National Congress on Bioethics (M. Kyiv, 2001), Law of Ukraine No. 692 “On the Protection of Animals from Cruel Treatment” (3447-IV) dated February 21, 2006. According to the histological structure, the kidneys of dogs are represented by renal corpuscles and renal tubules, which are made of epithelial cells. Organometric studies indicate that the absolute mass of kidneys in sexually mature dogs is 119.8 ± 6.48 g, relative – 0.74 ± 0.04 %. Morphometric studies of the kidney parenchyma in dogs have established that the average area of renal corpuscles is 4.89 ± 0.24 thousand μm², the area of the vascular glomerulus is 3.79 ± 0.18 thousand μm², the area of the Shumlyansky-Bowman capsule lumen is 1.12 ± 0.27 thousand μm². The average volume of renal bodies of the cortical substance is 1265.69 ± 239.34 thousand μm³. The number of renal corpuscles per conventional unit of area (5 mm²) is 20.8 ± 0.6 units. The aim of the work was to investigate the peculiarities of the morphogistological structure of the kidneys of sexually mature dogs. The research results will expand information about the morphological structure, and will serve for the development of issues of physiology, pathology and treatment of diseases of the urinary organs.

The archaeologist Erik WesterbyUp-front researcher on a spare-time basisThe centenary of the archaeologist and lawyer Erik Westerby, born in 1901, is the occation of this ac count of his career. It is a tale of a talented person’s magnificent achievements in his vainly fight for a seat on the scientific Parnassos.Erik Westerby had out standing intellectual talents within more of the areas important for car ying out a rchaeological research at a high level. Initially, however, a youthful and ill-concealed belief in his own talents gave him problems getting on with the conservative research environment of his contemporaries. In addition he had to struggle with a complicated mind of his own.From his youth, Westerby’s dedication to archaeology was directed to the exploration of the oldest times. He was the first to present a settlement from the late Ice Age: the Bromme site, and until today he has remained one of the famous names within the early Stone Age research in Denmark.His mind was set on archaeology, and yet he chose a more sec ure way of earning a living and became a lawyer. Parallel to the law studies, he worked so vigorously with archaeology that it is difficult to understand how he managed to graduate with good marks in an extraordinarily short time. In 1929, he settled as an independent lawyer in Copenhagen, in an office close to the High Court and the National Museum.The Stone Age settlement of Bloksbjerg in northern Copenhagen was the object of Westerby’s first large-scale field work (fig. 1). Nineteen years old, he published the preliminary results of the excavation.The following year he extended his knowledge of the Palaeolithic Period of France during a one-month study visit in Dordogne, an area rich of archaeologi cal finds.These studies were carried out with great thoroughness and included carefully documented test excavations at some of the classical sites.When he was 26, Westerby published a thesis on the early Stone Age in Denmark, taking his own settlement investigations as his point of departure. In this book, the term “the Mesolithic Age” was introduced in Danish terminology. Here, he also argued for the individual culture eras being named after important find localities. The early part of the Mesolithic Age in Denmark (which prior to this was often called “the Bone Age”) was hence to be called the Maglemose Era and the late part the Ertebø1le Era.The local academic dignit aries met this termino logy with severe criticism. Nevertheless, it was gradually accepted far beyond the Danish borders.From a modern point of view, the book was a very com etent archaeological presentation. It was submitted to the University of Copenhagen as a dissertation. However, the established scholars showed their disapproval by simply rejecting it.To add insult to injury, the promising youth was even humiliated in public by members of the National Museum’s staff. Among other things they pounced on the claim that a widely occurring, yet hitherto unnoticed type of flint tool, the burin, was to be found in the settlement inventories of the early Stone Age in Denmark. Today, we all know that Westerby was right, but in the 1920s, this claim was received differently by the few professional archaeologists in Denmark. Westerby was considered unsuited as a professional archaeologist, and so his profession was to stay the law.His next large project was the testing of the theory that coastal settlement had existed before the Ertebø1le Era Through reconnaissance expeditions to reclaimed fiords, he established co mpr ehensive traces of coastal settlement from a time berween the Ertebølle Culture and the Maglemose Culture. This era is now called the Kongemose Era, but it could just as well have been called the “Gislinge Era” due to his rich settlement find of this era in the Lamme fiord in North-West Zealand. However,Westerby decided to play down the sigruficance of his new find and refrain from such a pretentious terminology.In 1933, the results of Erik Westerby’s investigations of the reclai med fior ds were published. The energetic, Stone Age knowledgeable Therkel Mathiassen, who was employed by the National Museum that year, was interested in the Gislinge site, but he did not get an opportunity of excavating it until seven years later. And this was not to be the last place where Westerby’s and Mathiassen’s paths crossed.Erik Westerby’s next large project was to find signs of late Ice Age settlements in Den­mark – until then, this era was on ly represented by stray items. To do this, he carried out comprehensive field reconnaissance, which among other things led to his arrest by both the Danish police and the German occupying power due to his unu sual activities in the landscape.In 1938, he realised that the Amose bog in Western Zealand was a true treasure chest when it came to Mesolithic settlements. This realisation led to a short article in the reputable scholarly magazine , Acta Archaeologica. The article presents the results of a small trial excavation on the Øgårde locality. Having expressed reservations due to the limited and provisional character of the investigation, he concluded that there were pottery sherds in a closed context from the Maglemose Era, and that this was therefore the hitherto oldest pottery find in the world (fig. 2).Westerby called on the National Museum to undertake the responsibility of further investigation into the Åmose settlements, and Therkel Mathiassen immediately took it up on himself to take care of it. When a few years later he published the results of his very comprehensive investigations of for instance Øgårde, the sensational (and wrong) conclusion, that the Maglemose culture knew how to make pottery, was maintained.From Westerby’s diary we know that at the age of thirty, he regretted having been induced to deal with law. Archaeology fascinated him much more, and here he had exceptional talents. In private, he was a lonely person, and his legal work suffered from his great commitment to archaeology.The striking gesture of handing over further work concerning the Åmose settlements to the National Museum may therefore be understood as an attempt to get out of aneconomically, socially, and professional dead end. He probably hoped that the museum would encourage him to carry on the investigations and that he would be given the necessary means to do so – perhaps in the form of permanent employment.If indeed such hopes were behind Westerby’s gesture, then they were completely ignored. Therkel Mathiassen left him no further possibilities of carrying on the work in Åmosen. He even walked on Westerby’s pride by publicly mentioning him in line with local artefact collectors, who helped the museum with its work in the bog.However, Westerby continued his systematic field reconnaissance elsewhere on Zealand. In the spring of 1944, on the edge of a bog near Bromme, northwest of Sorø, he found flint tools of a kind that made him conclude he had come across settlement traces from a late Ice Age settlement (fig. 4, 6, and 7). The National Museum quickly offered to help with the investigation. However, the sensatio al find had disturbed Westerby’s state of mind, and he declined the proposal for fear of Mathiassen (fig. 5) taking over the management of the investigations.Physical and mental over-exertion caused Westerby to seek medical treatment in the autumn of 1944 . As he had no recovered by the spring of 1945, he informed the National Museum of the situation and turned over further investigation to the museum. His approach to the museum was an unspoken request that he was given the possibility of leading the investigation against proper payment. However, the signal was ignored, and Mathiassen immediately began the planning of a large-scale investigation. Westerby inspected the investigatio , and a written controversy followed, in which he expressed his reservations about Mathiassen’s methods, interpretations, and professional ethics, before having a mental relapse.Westerby’s miserable mental and economical situation now caused his sister, Hjørdis Westerby, to contact the National Museum , and without her brother’s knowledge, she expressed his wish of a museum employment, which for years he had been too proud to express. A marked change in the museum’s course followed. Therkel Mathiassen wrote and offered Erik Westerby a favourable arrangement. Westerby answered,“The letter will be opened, read, and if necessary answered when my health and my doctor permits it”. Whether Westerby ever opened the letter is unknown.The following spring Mathiassen wrote another couple of letters in his new, generous manner. The latter of these was found unopened among the papers left behind by Westerby. The good initiative had come too late.In the spring of 1946, Erik Westerby, helped by his sister Hjørdis, wrote a scholarly presentation of his investigations of the Bromme settlement.The manuscript included remarks that could be easily interpreted as a critical comment on the National Museum. As Westerby did not want to delete them, the result was that he never saw the presentation published in its entirety. Mathiassen published his results from the site in a large article in 1948. A later reinvestigation of the complete find material from the site has shown that Westerby’s critical remarks on Mathiassen’s methods and interpretations were justified.I t is worthy of note that not only did Westerby find the Bromrne settlement; he also recognized the finds on this site as being from the late Ice Age. Later it has become evident that Bromme was not the first late Palaeolithic settlement to be found or published withom the archaeologists realizing the correct age of the artefacts.In the last months of 1946, Erik Westerby left Copenhagen in order to become a member of the legal staff on the police station in Ringkøbing, West-Jutland. In his spare time, he continued to cultivate his interest in archaeology. He gave himself the extreme task of finding traces of human habitation in Denmark prior to the last Ice Age. A gravel pit near Seest in the western part of Kolding especially attracted his attention. Here, remains from for instance rhinoceros and forest elephant were found in the melt water gravel from the Ice Age. The gravel pit finds included some man- made flint items, which may be from the Ice Age layers.At that time,Westerby’s professional competence finally gained unreserved acclaim. The then recently appointed leader of the Prehistoric Museum in Århus, professor P.V. Glob, was behind this. Among other things, he arranged Westerby’s participation as a Danish represent ative in an international congress to mark the centenary of the find of the famous Neanderthal skull (fig. 8).In Ringkøbing, Westerby gradually became a known figure (fig. 9), and his extraordinary housing conditions added considerably to his reputation as an eccentric – a status he seemed to cultivate with pleasure (fig. 11-12).When he first arrived in the town, he was assigned one of the more modest rooms in the local hotel. Here he stayed for 33 years! Erik Westerby’s eccentric personality may lead to the convenient conclusion that he was unsuited for anemployment at the National Museum. It should therefore be stressed that he functioned as a highly respected police official in Ringkøbing (fig. l0) until according to the state rules he was forced to retire at the age of 70.The story of Erik Westerby’s professional career inevitably casts a shadow over those archaeologists at the National Museum who were actively opposing him. And it must be emphasized that the negative appraisal should not just apply to the rank-and- file scholars, but also the leading profession als, who failed to create the possibilities for Westerby’s obvious talents to be exploited to the full.Each scholarly environment should be conscious of the fact that success does not just depend on the available economic resources. The profession’s ability to provide a breeding ground for new ideas and gifted persons – even when this seems to be conflicting the individual convenience a nd prestige of established scholars – is no less important. If the management is weak and lacking in visions, then the environment tends to pursuit in dividu l goals. The result is often a bad atmosphere. It is a common idea that lack of funds causes lack of constructive athmosphere. However, it may just as well be the lack of constructive athmosphere, which causes lack of funds.Danish archaeology is indebted to Erik Westerby for handing over the key localities for investigating the Early Stone Age, and for his instructive examples in methods and systematism. We are also indebted to his sister, Hjørdis Westerby,for showing our profession a great gesture after the death of her brother: due to her economy and business sense, she was able to found the Erik Westerby Foundation in support of Danish archaeologists. The capital of the foundation comes from the estate left by her brother and from a large gift of money from her.Anders FischerKulturarvsstyrelsenTranslated by Annette Lerche Trolle

AbstractGlobal cities are the arena of several socioenvironmental phenomena. To alleviate the disparities and catastrophes arising from the rapid process of urbanization, several nations have begun to pursue a common aim: sustainable development. In this regard, goals and parameters have been established by the United Nations (UN) to encourage debates aimed at the protection of the planet. Since 1930, discussions have sought to promote actions and rethink urban planning, for example, at the International Congress of Modern Architecture, which produced the Athens Charter. In this context, the study reported herein correlates the New Urban Agenda, which systematizes the UN Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) together with the social functions of a city, a concept instigated by international legislation, charters and research to consolidate urban sustainability. As a proposed methodology, this study systemizes integrative data processing, with an applicable approach. In addition, a systematic analysis of the literature was carried out to create definitions and concepts on this theme. As a result, it was verified that social functions can and should integrate global urban policies, particularly when articulated with the SDGs and the New Urban Agenda.

Writer and poet J.V. Foix had a very prominent role in Catalan culture, especially in the Avant-gardes period in early 20th century. However, it is not well known his involvement in architecture shown by several articles written after he visited the V Triennale in Milan (1933) that were later published in the volume Mots i maons o a cascú el seu. Part of Foix’s work can be considered a critical interpretation of architecture from a literary point of view. Besides a general approval of modernist and Avant-garde architecture, his writings reflect a surprisingly mature conception of architecture that anticipates relevant opinion that both in Italy and in Spain would address architecture theoretical works after World War II. Most likely Foix came into direct contact with the Modern Movement while he was visiting the V Triennale and there he realized the potential of ‘crosswise’ interests between architecture and literature and especially between the international context and Spain.

Writer and poet J.V. Foix had a very prominent role in Catalan culture, especially in the Avant-gardes period in early 20th century. However, it is not well known his involvement in architecture shown by several articles written after he visited the V Triennale in Milan (1933) that were later published in the volume Mots i maons o a cascú el seu. Part of Foix’s work can be considered a critical interpretation of architecture from a literary point of view. Besides a general approval of modernist and Avant-garde architecture, his writings reflect a surprisingly mature conception of architecture that anticipates relevant opinion that both in Italy and in Spain would address architecture theoretical works after World War II. Most likely Foix came into direct contact with the Modern Movement while he was visiting the V Triennale and there he realized the potential of ‘crosswise’ interests between architecture and literature and especially between the international context and Spain.

AbstractThe Alcino Cardoso House (first phase: 1971–1973; second phase: 1988–1991), located in northern Portugal, was one of the first interventions in pre-existing buildings undertaken by the Pritzker Prize-winner architect Álvaro Siza (1933) to receive national and international acclaim. The design consisted of the conservation of vernacular farm buildings and their transformation into a holiday home and tourist accommodation. This intervention echoes the concerns of the critical revision of modern architecture in the Portuguese context (the so-called ‘third way’ as coined by Fernando Távora) marked by an innovative reinterpretation of tradition: modern principles such as spatial fluidity, curtain wall glass façade, architectural promenade are introduced while respecting the pre-existence landscape and character by integrating vernacular design principles and construction techniques. This early Álvaro Siza intervention in a rural context has become a reference case-study for the School of Porto architects and provides us with lessons on contemporary reuse of built heritage.

“...children’s play seems to become more and more a product of the educational and cultural orientation of parents...” — Stephen Kline, The Making of Children’s Culture We live in a world saturated by design and through design artefacts, one can glean unique insights into a culture's values and norms. In fact, some academics, such as British media and film theorist Ben Highmore, see the two areas so inextricably intertwined as to suggest a wholesale “re-branding of the cultural sciences as design studies” (14). Too often, however, everyday objects are marginalised or overlooked as objects of scholarly attention. The field of material culture studies seeks to change that by focussing on the quotidian object and its ability to reveal much about the time, place, and culture in which it was designed and used. This article takes on one such object, a mid-century children's toy tea set, whose humble journey from 1968 Sears catalogue to 2014 thrift shop—and subsequently this author’s basement—reveals complex rhetorical messages communicated both visually and verbally. As material culture studies theorist Jules Prown notes, the field’s foundation is laid upon the understanding “that objects made ... by man reflect, consciously or unconsciously, directly or indirectly, the beliefs of individuals who made, commissioned, purchased or used them, and by extension the beliefs of the larger society to which they belonged” (1-2). In this case, the objects’ material and aesthetic characteristics can be shown to reflect some of the pervasive stereotypes and gender roles of the mid-century and trace some of the prevailing tastes of the American middle class of that era, or perhaps more accurately the type of design that came to represent good taste and a modern aesthetic for that audience. A wealth of research exists on the function of toys and play in learning about the world and even the role of toy selection in early sex-typing, socialisation, and personal identity of children (Teglasi). This particular research area isn’t the focus of this article; however, one aspect that is directly relevant and will be addressed is the notion of adult role-playing among children and the role of toys in communicating certain adult practices or values to the child—what sociologist David Oswell calls “the dedifferentiation of childhood and adulthood” (200). Neither is the focus of this article the practice nor indeed the ethicality of marketing to children. Relevant to this particular example I suggest, is as a product utilising messaging aimed not at children but at adults, appealing to certain parents’ interest in nurturing within their child a perceived era and class-appropriate sense of taste. This was fuelled in large part by the curatorial pursuits of the Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) in New York, coupled with an interest and investment in raising their children in a design-forward household and a desire for toys that reflected that priority; in essence, parents wishing to raise modern children. Following Prown’s model of material culture analysis, the tea set is examined in three stages, through description, deduction and speculation with each stage building on the previous one. Figure 1: Porcelain Toy Tea Set. Description The tea set consists of twenty-six pieces that allows service for six. Six cups, saucers, and plates; a tall carafe with spout, handle and lid; a smaller vessel with a spout and handle; a small round bowl with a lid; a larger oval bowl with a lid, and a coordinated oval platter. The cups are just under two inches tall and two inches in diameter. The largest piece, the platter is roughly six inches by four inches. The pieces are made of a ceramic material white in colour and glossy in texture and are very lightweight. The rim or edge of each piece is decorated with a motif of three straight lines in two different shades of blue and in different thicknesses, interspersed with a set of three black wiggly lines. Figure 2: Porcelain Toy Tea Set Box. The set is packaged for retail purposes and the original box appears to be fully intact. The packaging of an object carries artefactual evidence just as important as what it contains that falls into the category of a “‘para-artefact’ … paraphernalia that accompanies the product (labels, packaging, instructions etc.), all of which contribute to a product’s discourse” (Folkmann and Jensen 83). The graphics on the box are colourful, featuring similar shades of teal blue as found on the objects, with the addition of orange and a silver sticker featuring the logo of the American retailer Sears. The cover features an illustration of the objects on an orange tabletop. The most prominent text that confirms that the toy is a “Porcelain Toy Tea Set” is in an organic, almost psychedelic style that mimics both popular graphics of this era—especially album art and concert posters—as well as the organic curves of steam that emanate from the illustrated teapot’s spout. Additional messages appear on the box, in particular “Contemporary DESIGN” and “handsome, clean-line styling for modern little hostesses”. Along the edges of the box lid, a detail of the decorative motif is reproduced somewhat abstracted from what actually appears on the ceramic objects. Figure 3: Sears’s Christmas Wishbook Catalogue, page 574 (1968). Sears, Roebuck and Co. (Sears) is well-known for its over one-hundred-year history of producing printed merchandise catalogues. The catalogue is another important para-artefact to consider in analysing the objects. The tea set first appeared in the 1968 Sears Christmas Wishbook. There is no date or copyright on the box, so only its inclusion in the catalogue allows the set to be accurately dated. It also allows us to understand how the set was originally marketed. Deduction In the deduction phase, we focus on the sensory aesthetic and functional interactive qualities of the various components of the set. In terms of its function, it is critical that we situate the objects in their original use context, play. The light weight of the objects and thinness of the ceramic material lends the objects a delicate, if not fragile, feeling which indicates that this set is not for rough use. Toy historian Lorraine May Punchard differentiates between toy tea sets “meant to be used by little girls, having parties for their friends and practising the social graces of the times” and smaller sets or doll dishes “made for little girls to have parties with their dolls, or for their dolls to have parties among themselves” (7). Similar sets sold by Sears feature images of girls using the sets with both human playmates and dolls. The quantity allowing service for six invites multiple users to join the party. The packaging makes clear that these toy tea sets were intended for imaginary play only, rendering them non-functional through an all-capitals caution declaiming “IMPORTANT: Do not use near heat”. The walls and handles of the cups are so thin one can imagine that they would quickly become dangerous if filled with a hot liquid. Nevertheless, the lid of the oval bowl has a tan stain or watermark which suggests actual use. The box is broken up by pink cardboard partitions dividing it into segments sized for each item in the set. Interestingly even the small squares of unfinished corrugated cardboard used as cushioning between each stacked plate have survived. The evidence of careful re-packing indicates that great care was taken in keeping the objects safe. It may suggest that even though the set was used, the children or perhaps the parents, considered the set as something to care for and conserve for the future. Flaws in the glaze and applique of the design motif can be found on several pieces in the set and offer some insight as to the technique used in producing these items. Errors such as the design being perfectly evenly spaced but crooked in its alignment to the rim, or pieces of the design becoming detached or accidentally folded over and overlapping itself could only be the result of a print transfer technique popularised with decorative china of the Victorian era, a technique which lends itself to mass production and lower cost when compared to hand decoration. Speculation In the speculation stage, we can consider the external evidence and begin a more rigorous investigation of the messaging, iconography, and possible meanings of the material artefact. Aspects of the set allow a number of useful observations about the role of such an object in its own time and context. Sociologists observe the role of toys as embodiments of particular types of parental messages and values (Cross 292) and note how particularly in the twentieth century “children’s play seems to become more and more a product of the educational and cultural orientation of parents” (Kline 96). Throughout history children’s toys often reflected a miniaturised version of the adult world allowing children to role-play as imagined adult-selves. Kristina Ranalli explored parallels between the practice of drinking tea and the play-acting of the child’s tea party, particularly in the nineteenth century, as a gendered ritual of gentility; a method of socialisation and education, and an opportunity for exploratory and even transgressive play by “spontaneously creating mini-societies with rules of their own” (20). Such toys and objects were available through the Sears mail-order catalogue from the very beginning at the end of the nineteenth century (McGuire). Propelled by the post-war boom of suburban development and homeownership—that generation’s manifestation of the American Dream—concern with home décor and design was elevated among the American mainstream to a degree never before seen. There was a hunger for new, streamlined, efficient, modernist living. In his essay titled “Domesticating Modernity”, historian Jeffrey L. Meikle notes that many early modernist designers found that perhaps the most potent way to “‘domesticate’ modernism and make it more familiar was to miniaturise it; for example, to shrink the skyscraper and put it into the home as furniture or tableware” (143). Dr Timothy Blade, curator of the 1985 exhibition of girls’ toys at the University of Minnesota’s Goldstein Gallery—now the Goldstein Museum of Design—described in his introduction “a miniaturised world with little props which duplicate, however rudely, the larger world of adults” (5). Noting the power of such toys to reflect adult values of their time, Blade continues: “the microcosm of the child’s world, remarkably furnished by the miniaturised props of their parents’ world, holds many direct and implied messages about the society which brought it into being” (9). In large part, the mid-century Sears catalogues capture the spirit of an era when, as collector Thomas Holland observes, “little girls were still primarily being offered only the options of glamour, beauty and parenthood as the stuff of their fantasies” (175). Holland notes that “the Wishbooks of the fifties [and, I would add, the sixties] assumed most girls would follow in their mother’s footsteps to become full-time housewives and mommies” (1). Blade grouped toys into three categories: cooking, cleaning, and sewing. A tea set could arguably be considered part of the cooking category, but closer examination of the language used in marketing this object—“little hostesses”, et cetera—suggests an emphasis not on cooking but on serving or entertaining. This particular category was not prevalent in the era examined by Blade, but the cultural shifts of the mid-twentieth century, particularly the rapid popularisation of a suburban lifestyle, may have led to the use of entertaining as an additional distinct category of role play in the process of learning to become a “proper” homemaker. Sears and other retailers offered a wide variety of styles of toy tea sets during this era. Blade and numerous other sources observe that children’s toy furniture and appliances tended to reflect the style and aesthetic qualities of their contemporary parallels in the adult world, the better to associate the child’s objects to its adult equivalent. The toy tea set’s packaging trumpets messages intended to appeal to modernist values and identity including “Contemporary Design” and “handsome, clean-line styling for modern little hostesses”. The use of this coded marketing language, aimed particularly at parents, can be traced back several decades. In 1928 a group of American industrial and textile designers established the American Designers' Gallery in New York, in part to encourage American designers to innovate and adopt new styles such as those seen in the L’ Exposition Internationale des Arts Decoratifs et Industriels Modernes (1925) in Paris, the exposition that sparked international interest in the Art Deco or Art Moderne aesthetic. One of the gallery founders, Ilonka Karasz, a Hungarian-American industrial and textile designer who had studied in Austria and was influenced by the Wiener Werkstätte in Vienna, publicised her new style of nursery furnishings as “designed for the very modern American child” (Brown 80). Sears itself was no stranger to the appeal of such language. The term “contemporary design” was ubiquitous in catalogue copy of the nineteen-fifties and sixties, used to describe everything from draperies (1959) and bedspreads (1961) to spice racks (1964) and the Lady Kenmore portable dishwasher (1961). An emphasis on the role of design in one’s life and surroundings can be traced back to efforts by MoMA. The museum’s interest in modern design hearkens back almost to the institution’s inception, particularly in relation to industrial design and the aestheticisation of everyday objects (Marshall). Through exhibitions and in partnership with mass-market magazines, department stores and manufacturer showrooms, MoMA curators evangelised the importance of “good design” a term that can be found in use as early as 1942. What Is Good Design? followed the pattern of prior exhibitions such as What Is Modern Painting? and situated modern design at the centre of exhibitions that toured the United States in the first half of the nineteen-fifties. To MoMA and its partners, “good design” signified the narrow identification of proper taste in furniture, home decor and accessories; effectively, the establishment of a design canon. The viewpoints enshrined in these exhibitions and partnerships were highly influential on the nation’s perception of taste for decades to come, as the trickle-down effect reached a much broader segment of consumers than those that directly experienced the museum or its exhibitions (Lawrence.) This was evident not only at high-end shops such as Bloomingdale’s and Macy’s. Even mass-market retailers sought out well-known figures of modernist design to contribute to their offerings. Sears, for example, commissioned noted modernist designer and ceramicist Russel Wright to produce a variety of serving ware and decor items exclusively for the company. Notably for this study, he was also commissioned to create a toy tea set for children. The 1957 Wishbook touts the set as “especially created to delight modern little misses”. Within its Good Design series, MoMA exhibitions celebrated numerous prominent Nordic designers who were exploring simplified forms and new material technologies. In the 1968 Wishbook, the retailer describes the Porcelain Toy Tea Set as “Danish-inspired china for young moderns”. The reference to Danish design is certainly compatible with the modernist appeal; after the explosion in popularity of Danish furniture design, the term “Danish Modern” was commonly used in the nineteen-fifties and sixties as shorthand for pan-Scandinavian or Nordic design, or more broadly for any modern furniture design regardless of origin that exhibited similar characteristics. In subsequent decades the notion of a monolithic Scandinavian-Nordic design aesthetic or movement has been debunked as primarily an economically motivated marketing ploy (Olivarez et al.; Fallan). In the United States, the term “Danish Modern” became so commonly misused that the Danish Society for Arts and Crafts called upon the American Federal Trade Commission (FTC) to legally restrict the use of the labels “Danish” and “Danish Modern” to companies genuinely originating in Denmark. Coincidentally the FTC ruled on this in 1968, noting “that ‘Danish Modern’ carries certain meanings, and... that consumers might prefer goods that are identified with a foreign culture” (Hansen 451). In the case of the Porcelain Toy Tea Set examined here, Sears was not claiming that the design was “Danish” but rather “Danish-inspired”. One must wonder, was this another coded marketing ploy to communicate a sense of “Good Design” to potential customers? An examination of the formal qualities of the set’s components, particularly the simplified geometric forms and the handle style of the cups, confirms that it is unlike a traditional—say, Victorian-style—tea set. Punchard observes that during this era some American tea sets were actually being modelled on coffee services rather than traditional tea services (148). A visual comparison of other sets sold by Sears in the same year reveals a variety of cup and pot shapes—with some similar to the set in question—while others exhibit more traditional teapot and cup shapes. Coffee culture was historically prominent in Nordic cultures so there is at least a passing reference to that aspect of Nordic—if not specifically Danish—influence in the design. But what of the decorative motif? Simple curved lines were certainly prominent in Danish furniture and architecture of this era, and occasionally found in combination with straight lines, but no connection back to any specific Danish motif could be found even after consultation with experts in the field from the Museum of Danish America and the Vesterheim National Norwegian-American Museum (personal correspondence). However, knowing that the average American consumer of this era—even the design-savvy among them—consumed Scandinavian design without distinguishing between the various nations, a possible explanation could be contained in the promotion of Finnish textiles at the time. In the decade prior to the manufacture of the tea set a major design tendency began to emerge in the United States, triggered by the geometric design motifs of the Finnish textile and apparel company Marimekko. Marimekko products were introduced to the American market in 1959 via the Cambridge, Massachusetts-based retailer Design Research (DR) and quickly exploded in popularity particularly after would-be First Lady Jacqueline Kennedy appeared in national media wearing Marimekko dresses during the 1960 presidential campaign and on the cover of Sports Illustrated magazine. (Thompson and Lange). The company’s styling soon came to epitomise a new youth aesthetic of the early nineteen sixties in the United States, a softer and more casual predecessor to the London “mod” influence. During this time multiple patterns were released that brought a sense of whimsy and a more human touch to classic mechanical patterns and stripes. The patterns Piccolo (1953), Helmipitsi (1959), and Varvunraita (1959), all designed by Vuokko Eskolin-Nurmesniemi offered varying motifs of parallel straight lines. Maija Isola's Silkkikuikka (1961) pattern—said to be inspired by the plumage of the Great Crested Grebe—combined parallel serpentine lines with straight and angled lines, available in a variety of colours. These and other geometrically inspired patterns quickly inundated apparel and decor markets. DR built a vastly expanded Cambridge flagship store and opened new locations in New York in 1961 and 1964, and in San Francisco in 1965 fuelled in no small part by the fact that they remained the exclusive outlet for Marimekko in the United States. It is clear that Marimekko’s approach to pattern influenced designers and manufacturers across industries. Design historian Lesley Jackson demonstrates that Marimekko designs influenced or were emulated by numerous other companies across Scandinavia and beyond (72-78). The company’s influence grew to such an extent that some described it as a “conquest of the international market” (Hedqvist and Tarschys 150). Subsequent design-forward retailers such as IKEA and Crate and Barrel continue to look to Marimekko even today for modern design inspiration. In 2016 the mass-market retailer Target formed a design partnership with Marimekko to offer an expansive limited-edition line in their stores, numbering over two hundred items. So, despite the “Danish” misnomer, it is quite conceivable that designers working for or commissioned by Sears in 1968 may have taken their aesthetic cues from Marimekko’s booming work, demonstrating a clear understanding of the contemporary high design aesthetic of the time and coding the marketing rhetoric accordingly even if incorrectly. Conclusion The Sears catalogue plays a unique role in capturing cross-sections of American culture not only as a sales tool but also in Holland’s words as “a beautifully illustrated diary of America, it’s [sic] people and the way we thought about things” (1). Applying a rhetorical and material culture analysis to the catalogue and the objects within it provides a unique glimpse into the roles these objects played in mediating relationships, transmitting values and embodying social practices, tastes and beliefs of mid-century American consumers. Adult consumers familiar with the characteristics of the culture of “Good Design” potentially could have made a connection between the simplified geometric forms of the components of the toy tea set and say the work of modernist tableware designers such as Kaj Franck, or between the set’s graphic pattern and the modernist motifs of Marimekko and its imitators. But for a much broader segment of the population with a less direct understanding of modernist aesthetics, those connections may not have been immediately apparent. The rhetorical messaging behind the objects’ packaging and marketing used class and taste signifiers such as modern, contemporary and “Danish” to reinforce this connection to effect an emotional and aspirational appeal. These messages were coded to position the set as an effective transmitter of modernist values and to target parents with the ambition to create “appropriately modern” environments for their children. References Ancestry.com. “Historic Catalogs of Sears, Roebuck and Co., 1896–1993.” <http://search.ancestry.com/search/db.aspx?dbid=1670>. Baker Furniture Inc. “Design Legacy: Our Story.” n.d. <http://www.bakerfurniture.com/design-story/ legacy-of-quality/design-legacy/>. Blade, Timothy Trent. “Introduction.” Child’s Play, Woman’s Work: An Exhibition of Miniature Toy Appliances: June 12, 1985–September 29, 1985. St. Paul: Goldstein Gallery, U Minnesota, 1985. Brown, Ashley. “Ilonka Karasz: Rediscovering a Modernist Pioneer.” Studies in the Decorative Arts 8.1 (2000-1): 69–91. Cross, Gary. “Gendered Futures/Gendered Fantasies: Toys as Representatives of Changing Childhood.” American Journal of Semiotics 12.1 (1995): 289–310. Dolansky, Fanny. “Playing with Gender: Girls, Dolls, and Adult Ideals in the Roman World.” Classical Antiquity 31.2 (2012): 256–92. Fallan, Kjetil. Scandinavian Design: Alternative Histories. Berg, 2012. Folkmann, Mads Nygaard, and Hans-Christian Jensen. “Subjectivity in Self-Historicization: Design and Mediation of a ‘New Danish Modern’ Living Room Set.” Design and Culture 7.1 (2015): 65–84. Hansen, Per H. “Networks, Narratives, and New Markets: The Rise and Decline of Danish Modern Furniture Design, 1930–1970.” The Business History Review 80.3 (2006): 449–83. Hedqvist, Hedvig, and Rebecka Tarschys. “Thoughts on the International Reception of Marimekko.” Marimekko: Fabrics, Fashions, Architecture. Ed. Marianne Aav. Bard. 2003. 149–71. Highmore, Ben. The Design Culture Reader. Routledge, 2008. Holland, Thomas W. Girls’ Toys of the Fifties and Sixties: Memorable Catalog Pages from the Legendary Sears Christmas Wishbooks, 1950-1969. Windmill, 1997. Hucal, Sarah. "Scandi Crush Saga: How Scandinavian Design Took over the World." Curbed, 23 Mar. 2016. <http://www.curbed.com/2016/3/23/11286010/scandinavian-design-arne-jacobsen-alvar-aalto-muuto-artek>. Jackson, Lesley. “Textile Patterns in an International Context: Precursors, Contemporaries, and Successors.” Marimekko: Fabrics, Fashions, Architecture. Ed. Marianne Aav. Bard. 2003. 44–83. Kline, Stephen. “The Making of Children’s Culture.” The Children’s Culture Reader. Ed. Henry Jenkins. New York: NYU P, 1998. 95–109. Lawrence, Sidney. “Declaration of Function: Documents from the Museum of Modern Art’s Design Crusade, 1933-1950.” Design Issues 2.1 (1985): 65–77. Marshall, Jennifer Jane. Machine Art 1934. Chicago: U of Chicago P, 2012. McGuire, Sheila. “Playing House: Sex-Roles and the Child’s World.” Child’s Play, Woman’s Work: An Exhibition of Miniature Toy Appliances : June 12, 1985–September 29, 1985. St. Paul: Goldstein Gallery, U Minnesota, 1985. Meikel, Jeffrey L. “Domesticating Modernity: Ambivalence and Appropriation, 1920–1940.” Designing Modernity; the Arts of Reform and Persuasion. Ed. Wendy Kaplan. Thames & Hudson, 1995. 143–68. O’Brien, Marion, and Aletha C. Huston. “Development of Sex-Typed Play Behavior in Toddlers.” Developmental Psychology, 21.5 (1985): 866–71. Olivarez, Jennifer Komar, Jukka Savolainen, and Juulia Kauste. Finland: Designed Environments. Minneapolis Institute of Arts and Nordic Heritage Museum, 2014. Oswell, David. The Agency of Children: From Family to Global Human Rights. Cambridge UP, 2013. Prown, Jules David. “Mind in Matter: An Introduction to Material Culture Theory and Method.” Winterthur Portfolio 17.1 (1982): 1–19. Punchard, Lorraine May. Child’s Play: Play Dishes, Kitchen Items, Furniture, Accessories. Punchard, 1982. Ranalli, Kristina. An Act Apart: Tea-Drinking, Play and Ritual. Master's thesis. U Delaware, 2013. Sears Corporate Archives. “What Is a Sears Modern Home?” n.d. <http://www.searsarchives.com/homes/index.htm>. "Target Announces New Design Partnership with Marimekko: It’s Finnish, Target Style." Target, 2 Mar. 2016. <http://corporate.target.com/article/2016/03/marimekko-for-target>. Teglasi, Hedwig. “Children’s Choices of and Value Judgments about Sex-Typed Toys and Occupations.” Journal of Vocational Behavior 18.2 (1981): 184–95. Thompson, Jane, and Alexandra Lange. Design Research: The Store That Brought Modern Living to American Homes. Chronicle, 2010.

Recent increases in fuel prices and increased focus on aviation's environmental impacts have reignited focus on the open rotor engine concept. This type of architecture was extensively investigated in previous decades but was not pursued through to commercialization due to relatively high noise levels and a sudden, sharp decrease in fuel prices. More recent increases in fuel prices and increased government pressure from taxing carbon-dioxide production mean the open rotor is once again being investigated as a viable concept. Advances in aero-acoustic design tools have allowed industry and academia to re-investigate the open rotor with an increased emphasis on noise reduction while retaining the fuel burn benefits due to the increased propulsive efficiency. Recent research with conceptual level multidisciplinary considerations of the open rotor has been performed (Bellocq et al., 2010, “Advanced Open Rotor Performance Modeling For Multidisciplinary Optimization Assessments,” Paper No. GT2010-2963), but there remains a need for a holistic approach that includes the coupled effects of the engine and airframe on fuel burn, emissions, and noise. Years of research at Georgia Institute of Technology have led to the development of the Environmental Design Space (EDS) (Kirby and Mavris, 2008, “The Environmental Design Space,” Proceedings of the 26th International Congress of the Aeronautical Sciences). EDS serves to capture interdependencies at the conceptual design level of fuel burn, emissions, and noise for conventional and advanced engine and airframe architectures. Recently, leveraging NASA environmentally responsible aviation (ERA) modeling efforts, EDS has been updated to include an open rotor model to capture, in an integrated fashion, the effects of an open rotor on conventional airframe designs. Due to the object oriented nature of EDS, the focus has been on designing modular elements that can be updated as research progresses. A power management scheme has also been developed with the future capability to trade between fuel efficiency and noise using the variable pitch propeller system. Since the original GE open rotor test was performed using a military core, there is interest in seeing the effect of modern core-engine technology on the integrated open rotor performance. This research applies the modular EDS open rotor model in an engine cycle study to investigate the sensitivity of thermal efficiency improvements on open rotor performance, including the effects on weight and vehicle performance. The results are that advances in the core cycle are necessary to enable future bypass ratio growth and the trades between core operating temperatures and size become more significant as bypass ratio continues to increase. A general benefit of a 30% reduction in block fuel is seen on a 737-800 sized aircraft.

On the morning of Thursday, 4 May 2006, the United States House Permanent Select Committee on Intelligence held an open hearing entitled “Terrorist Use of the Internet.” The Intelligence committee meeting was scheduled to take place in Room 1302 of the Longworth Office Building, a Depression-era structure with a neoclassical façade. Because of a dysfunctional elevator, some of the congressional representatives were late to the meeting. During the testimony about the newest political applications for cutting-edge digital technology, the microphones periodically malfunctioned, and witnesses complained of “technical problems” several times. By the end of the day it seemed that what was to be remembered about the hearing was the shocking revelation that terrorists were using videogames to recruit young jihadists. The Associated Press wrote a short, restrained article about the hearing that only mentioned “computer games and recruitment videos” in passing. Eager to have their version of the news item picked up, Reuters made videogames the focus of their coverage with a headline that announced, “Islamists Using US Videogames in Youth Appeal.” Like a game of telephone, as the Reuters videogame story was quickly re-run by several Internet news services, each iteration of the title seemed less true to the exact language of the original. One Internet news service changed the headline to “Islamic militants recruit using U.S. video games.” Fox News re-titled the story again to emphasise that this alert about technological manipulation was coming from recognised specialists in the anti-terrorism surveillance field: “Experts: Islamic Militants Customizing Violent Video Games.” As the story circulated, the body of the article remained largely unchanged, in which the Reuters reporter described the digital materials from Islamic extremists that were shown at the congressional hearing. During the segment that apparently most captured the attention of the wire service reporters, eerie music played as an English-speaking narrator condemned the “infidel” and declared that he had “put a jihad” on them, as aerial shots moved over 3D computer-generated images of flaming oil facilities and mosques covered with geometric designs. Suddenly, this menacing voice-over was interrupted by an explosion, as a virtual rocket was launched into a simulated military helicopter. The Reuters reporter shared this dystopian vision from cyberspace with Western audiences by quoting directly from the chilling commentary and describing a dissonant montage of images and remixed sound. “I was just a boy when the infidels came to my village in Blackhawk helicopters,” a narrator’s voice said as the screen flashed between images of street-level gunfights, explosions and helicopter assaults. Then came a recording of President George W. Bush’s September 16, 2001, statement: “This crusade, this war on terrorism, is going to take a while.” It was edited to repeat the word “crusade,” which Muslims often define as an attack on Islam by Christianity. According to the news reports, the key piece of evidence before Congress seemed to be a film by “SonicJihad” of recorded videogame play, which – according to the experts – was widely distributed online. Much of the clip takes place from the point of view of a first-person shooter, seen as if through the eyes of an armed insurgent, but the viewer also periodically sees third-person action in which the player appears as a running figure wearing a red-and-white checked keffiyeh, who dashes toward the screen with a rocket launcher balanced on his shoulder. Significantly, another of the player’s hand-held weapons is a detonator that triggers remote blasts. As jaunty music plays, helicopters, tanks, and armoured vehicles burst into smoke and flame. Finally, at the triumphant ending of the video, a green and white flag bearing a crescent is hoisted aloft into the sky to signify victory by Islamic forces. To explain the existence of this digital alternative history in which jihadists could be conquerors, the Reuters story described the deviousness of the country’s terrorist opponents, who were now apparently modifying popular videogames through their wizardry and inserting anti-American, pro-insurgency content into U.S.-made consumer technology. One of the latest video games modified by militants is the popular “Battlefield 2” from leading video game publisher, Electronic Arts Inc of Redwood City, California. Jeff Brown, a spokesman for Electronic Arts, said enthusiasts often write software modifications, known as “mods,” to video games. “Millions of people create mods on games around the world,” he said. “We have absolutely no control over them. It’s like drawing a mustache on a picture.” Although the Electronic Arts executive dismissed the activities of modders as a “mustache on a picture” that could only be considered little more than childish vandalism of their off-the-shelf corporate product, others saw a more serious form of criminality at work. Testifying experts and the legislators listening on the committee used the video to call for greater Internet surveillance efforts and electronic counter-measures. Within twenty-four hours of the sensationalistic news breaking, however, a group of Battlefield 2 fans was crowing about the idiocy of reporters. The game play footage wasn’t from a high-tech modification of the software by Islamic extremists; it had been posted on a Planet Battlefield forum the previous December of 2005 by a game fan who had cut together regular game play with a Bush remix and a parody snippet of the soundtrack from the 2004 hit comedy film Team America. The voice describing the Black Hawk helicopters was the voice of Trey Parker of South Park cartoon fame, and – much to Parker’s amusement – even the mention of “goats screaming” did not clue spectators in to the fact of a comic source. Ironically, the moment in the movie from which the sound clip is excerpted is one about intelligence gathering. As an agent of Team America, a fictional elite U.S. commando squad, the hero of the film’s all-puppet cast, Gary Johnston, is impersonating a jihadist radical inside a hostile Egyptian tavern that is modelled on the cantina scene from Star Wars. Additional laughs come from the fact that agent Johnston is accepted by the menacing terrorist cell as “Hakmed,” despite the fact that he utters a series of improbable clichés made up of incoherent stereotypes about life in the Middle East while dressed up in a disguise made up of shoe polish and a turban from a bathroom towel. The man behind the “SonicJihad” pseudonym turned out to be a twenty-five-year-old hospital administrator named Samir, and what reporters and representatives saw was nothing more exotic than game play from an add-on expansion pack of Battlefield 2, which – like other versions of the game – allows first-person shooter play from the position of the opponent as a standard feature. While SonicJihad initially joined his fellow gamers in ridiculing the mainstream media, he also expressed astonishment and outrage about a larger politics of reception. In one interview he argued that the media illiteracy of Reuters potentially enabled a whole series of category errors, in which harmless gamers could be demonised as terrorists. It wasn’t intended for the purpose what it was portrayed to be by the media. So no I don’t regret making a funny video . . . why should I? The only thing I regret is thinking that news from Reuters was objective and always right. The least they could do is some online research before publishing this. If they label me al-Qaeda just for making this silly video, that makes you think, what is this al-Qaeda? And is everything al-Qaeda? Although Sonic Jihad dismissed his own work as “silly” or “funny,” he expected considerably more from a credible news agency like Reuters: “objective” reporting, “online research,” and fact-checking before “publishing.” Within the week, almost all of the salient details in the Reuters story were revealed to be incorrect. SonicJihad’s film was not made by terrorists or for terrorists: it was not created by “Islamic militants” for “Muslim youths.” The videogame it depicted had not been modified by a “tech-savvy militant” with advanced programming skills. Of course, what is most extraordinary about this story isn’t just that Reuters merely got its facts wrong; it is that a self-identified “parody” video was shown to the august House Intelligence Committee by a team of well-paid “experts” from the Science Applications International Corporation (SAIC), a major contractor with the federal government, as key evidence of terrorist recruitment techniques and abuse of digital networks. Moreover, this story of media illiteracy unfolded in the context of a fundamental Constitutional debate about domestic surveillance via communications technology and the further regulation of digital content by lawmakers. Furthermore, the transcripts of the actual hearing showed that much more than simple gullibility or technological ignorance was in play. Based on their exchanges in the public record, elected representatives and government experts appear to be keenly aware that the digital discourses of an emerging information culture might be challenging their authority and that of the longstanding institutions of knowledge and power with which they are affiliated. These hearings can be seen as representative of a larger historical moment in which emphatic declarations about prohibiting specific practices in digital culture have come to occupy a prominent place at the podium, news desk, or official Web portal. This environment of cultural reaction can be used to explain why policy makers’ reaction to terrorists’ use of networked communication and digital media actually tells us more about our own American ideologies about technology and rhetoric in a contemporary information environment. When the experts come forward at the Sonic Jihad hearing to “walk us through the media and some of the products,” they present digital artefacts of an information economy that mirrors many of the features of our own consumption of objects of electronic discourse, which seem dangerously easy to copy and distribute and thus also create confusion about their intended meanings, audiences, and purposes. From this one hearing we can see how the reception of many new digital genres plays out in the public sphere of legislative discourse. Web pages, videogames, and Weblogs are mentioned specifically in the transcript. The main architecture of the witnesses’ presentation to the committee is organised according to the rhetorical conventions of a PowerPoint presentation. Moreover, the arguments made by expert witnesses about the relationship of orality to literacy or of public to private communications in new media are highly relevant to how we might understand other important digital genres, such as electronic mail or text messaging. The hearing also invites consideration of privacy, intellectual property, and digital “rights,” because moral values about freedom and ownership are alluded to by many of the elected representatives present, albeit often through the looking glass of user behaviours imagined as radically Other. For example, terrorists are described as “modders” and “hackers” who subvert those who properly create, own, legitimate, and regulate intellectual property. To explain embarrassing leaks of infinitely replicable digital files, witness Ron Roughead says, “We’re not even sure that they don’t even hack into the kinds of spaces that hold photographs in order to get pictures that our forces have taken.” Another witness, Undersecretary of Defense for Policy and International Affairs, Peter Rodman claims that “any video game that comes out, as soon as the code is released, they will modify it and change the game for their needs.” Thus, the implication of these witnesses’ testimony is that the release of code into the public domain can contribute to political subversion, much as covert intrusion into computer networks by stealthy hackers can. However, the witnesses from the Pentagon and from the government contractor SAIC often present a contradictory image of the supposed terrorists in the hearing transcripts. Sometimes the enemy is depicted as an organisation of technological masterminds, capable of manipulating the computer code of unwitting Americans and snatching their rightful intellectual property away; sometimes those from the opposing forces are depicted as pre-modern and even sub-literate political innocents. In contrast, the congressional representatives seem to focus on similarities when comparing the work of “terrorists” to the everyday digital practices of their constituents and even of themselves. According to the transcripts of this open hearing, legislators on both sides of the aisle express anxiety about domestic patterns of Internet reception. Even the legislators’ own Web pages are potentially disruptive electronic artefacts, particularly when the demands of digital labour interfere with their duties as lawmakers. Although the subject of the hearing is ostensibly terrorist Websites, Representative Anna Eshoo (D-California) bemoans the difficulty of maintaining her own official congressional site. As she observes, “So we are – as members, I think we’re very sensitive about what’s on our Website, and if I retained what I had on my Website three years ago, I’d be out of business. So we know that they have to be renewed. They go up, they go down, they’re rebuilt, they’re – you know, the message is targeted to the future.” In their questions, lawmakers identify Weblogs (blogs) as a particular area of concern as a destabilising alternative to authoritative print sources of information from established institutions. Representative Alcee Hastings (D-Florida) compares the polluting power of insurgent bloggers to that of influential online muckrakers from the American political Right. Hastings complains of “garbage on our regular mainstream news that comes from blog sites.” Representative Heather Wilson (R-New Mexico) attempts to project a media-savvy persona by bringing up the “phenomenon of blogging” in conjunction with her questions about jihadist Websites in which she notes how Internet traffic can be magnified by cooperative ventures among groups of ideologically like-minded content-providers: “These Websites, and particularly the most active ones, are they cross-linked? And do they have kind of hot links to your other favorite sites on them?” At one point Representative Wilson asks witness Rodman if he knows “of your 100 hottest sites where the Webmasters are educated? What nationality they are? Where they’re getting their money from?” In her questions, Wilson implicitly acknowledges that Web work reflects influences from pedagogical communities, economic networks of the exchange of capital, and even potentially the specific ideologies of nation-states. It is perhaps indicative of the government contractors’ anachronistic worldview that the witness is unable to answer Wilson’s question. He explains that his agency focuses on the physical location of the server or ISP rather than the social backgrounds of the individuals who might be manufacturing objectionable digital texts. The premise behind the contractors’ working method – surveilling the technical apparatus not the social network – may be related to other beliefs expressed by government witnesses, such as the supposition that jihadist Websites are collectively produced and spontaneously emerge from the indigenous, traditional, tribal culture, instead of assuming that Iraqi insurgents have analogous beliefs, practices, and technological awareness to those in first-world countries. The residual subtexts in the witnesses’ conjectures about competing cultures of orality and literacy may tell us something about a reactionary rhetoric around videogames and digital culture more generally. According to the experts before Congress, the Middle Eastern audience for these videogames and Websites is limited by its membership in a pre-literate society that is only capable of abortive cultural production without access to knowledge that is archived in printed codices. Sometimes the witnesses before Congress seem to be unintentionally channelling the ideas of the late literacy theorist Walter Ong about the “secondary orality” associated with talky electronic media such as television, radio, audio recording, or telephone communication. Later followers of Ong extend this concept of secondary orality to hypertext, hypermedia, e-mail, and blogs, because they similarly share features of both speech and written discourse. Although Ong’s disciples celebrate this vibrant reconnection to a mythic, communal past of what Kathleen Welch calls “electric rhetoric,” the defence industry consultants express their profound state of alarm at the potentially dangerous and subversive character of this hybrid form of communication. The concept of an “oral tradition” is first introduced by the expert witnesses in the context of modern marketing and product distribution: “The Internet is used for a variety of things – command and control,” one witness states. “One of the things that’s missed frequently is how and – how effective the adversary is at using the Internet to distribute product. They’re using that distribution network as a modern form of oral tradition, if you will.” Thus, although the Internet can be deployed for hierarchical “command and control” activities, it also functions as a highly efficient peer-to-peer distributed network for disseminating the commodity of information. Throughout the hearings, the witnesses imply that unregulated lateral communication among social actors who are not authorised to speak for nation-states or to produce legitimated expert discourses is potentially destabilising to political order. Witness Eric Michael describes the “oral tradition” and the conventions of communal life in the Middle East to emphasise the primacy of speech in the collective discursive practices of this alien population: “I’d like to point your attention to the media types and the fact that the oral tradition is listed as most important. The other media listed support that. And the significance of the oral tradition is more than just – it’s the medium by which, once it comes off the Internet, it is transferred.” The experts go on to claim that this “oral tradition” can contaminate other media because it functions as “rumor,” the traditional bane of the stately discourse of military leaders since the classical era. The oral tradition now also has an aspect of rumor. A[n] event takes place. There is an explosion in a city. Rumor is that the United States Air Force dropped a bomb and is doing indiscriminate killing. This ends up being discussed on the street. It ends up showing up in a Friday sermon in a mosque or in another religious institution. It then gets recycled into written materials. Media picks up the story and broadcasts it, at which point it’s now a fact. In this particular case that we were telling you about, it showed up on a network television, and their propaganda continues to go back to this false initial report on network television and continue to reiterate that it’s a fact, even though the United States government has proven that it was not a fact, even though the network has since recanted the broadcast. In this example, many-to-many discussion on the “street” is formalised into a one-to many “sermon” and then further stylised using technology in a one-to-many broadcast on “network television” in which “propaganda” that is “false” can no longer be disputed. This “oral tradition” is like digital media, because elements of discourse can be infinitely copied or “recycled,” and it is designed to “reiterate” content. In this hearing, the word “rhetoric” is associated with destructive counter-cultural forces by the witnesses who reiterate cultural truisms dating back to Plato and the Gorgias. For example, witness Eric Michael initially presents “rhetoric” as the use of culturally specific and hence untranslatable figures of speech, but he quickly moves to an outright castigation of the entire communicative mode. “Rhetoric,” he tells us, is designed to “distort the truth,” because it is a “selective” assembly or a “distortion.” Rhetoric is also at odds with reason, because it appeals to “emotion” and a romanticised Weltanschauung oriented around discourses of “struggle.” The film by SonicJihad is chosen as the final clip by the witnesses before Congress, because it allegedly combines many different types of emotional appeal, and thus it conveniently ties together all of the themes that the witnesses present to the legislators about unreliable oral or rhetorical sources in the Middle East: And there you see how all these products are linked together. And you can see where the games are set to psychologically condition you to go kill coalition forces. You can see how they use humor. You can see how the entire campaign is carefully crafted to first evoke an emotion and then to evoke a response and to direct that response in the direction that they want. Jihadist digital products, especially videogames, are effective means of manipulation, the witnesses argue, because they employ multiple channels of persuasion and carefully sequenced and integrated subliminal messages. To understand the larger cultural conversation of the hearing, it is important to keep in mind that the related argument that “games” can “psychologically condition” players to be predisposed to violence is one that was important in other congressional hearings of the period, as well one that played a role in bills and resolutions that were passed by the full body of the legislative branch. In the witness’s testimony an appeal to anti-game sympathies at home is combined with a critique of a closed anti-democratic system abroad in which the circuits of rhetorical production and their composite metonymic chains are described as those that command specific, unvarying, robotic responses. This sharp criticism of the artful use of a presentation style that is “crafted” is ironic, given that the witnesses’ “compilation” of jihadist digital material is staged in the form of a carefully structured PowerPoint presentation, one that is paced to a well-rehearsed rhythm of “slide, please” or “next slide” in the transcript. The transcript also reveals that the members of the House Intelligence Committee were not the original audience for the witnesses’ PowerPoint presentation. Rather, when it was first created by SAIC, this “expert” presentation was designed for training purposes for the troops on the ground, who would be facing the challenges of deployment in hostile terrain. According to the witnesses, having the slide show showcased before Congress was something of an afterthought. Nonetheless, Congressman Tiahrt (R-KN) is so impressed with the rhetorical mastery of the consultants that he tries to appropriate it. As Tiarht puts it, “I’d like to get a copy of that slide sometime.” From the hearing we also learn that the terrorists’ Websites are threatening precisely because they manifest a polymorphously perverse geometry of expansion. For example, one SAIC witness before the House Committee compares the replication and elaboration of digital material online to a “spiderweb.” Like Representative Eshoo’s site, he also notes that the terrorists’ sites go “up” and “down,” but the consultant is left to speculate about whether or not there is any “central coordination” to serve as an organising principle and to explain the persistence and consistency of messages despite the apparent lack of a single authorial ethos to offer a stable, humanised, point of reference. In the hearing, the oft-cited solution to the problem created by the hybridity and iterability of digital rhetoric appears to be “public diplomacy.” Both consultants and lawmakers seem to agree that the damaging messages of the insurgents must be countered with U.S. sanctioned information, and thus the phrase “public diplomacy” appears in the hearing seven times. However, witness Roughhead complains that the protean “oral tradition” and what Henry Jenkins has called the “transmedia” character of digital culture, which often crosses several platforms of traditional print, projection, or broadcast media, stymies their best rhetorical efforts: “I think the point that we’ve tried to make in the briefing is that wherever there’s Internet availability at all, they can then download these – these programs and put them onto compact discs, DVDs, or post them into posters, and provide them to a greater range of people in the oral tradition that they’ve grown up in. And so they only need a few Internet sites in order to distribute and disseminate the message.” Of course, to maintain their share of the government market, the Science Applications International Corporation also employs practices of publicity and promotion through the Internet and digital media. They use HTML Web pages for these purposes, as well as PowerPoint presentations and online video. The rhetoric of the Website of SAIC emphasises their motto “From Science to Solutions.” After a short Flash film about how SAIC scientists and engineers solve “complex technical problems,” the visitor is taken to the home page of the firm that re-emphasises their central message about expertise. The maps, uniforms, and specialised tools and equipment that are depicted in these opening Web pages reinforce an ethos of professional specialisation that is able to respond to multiple threats posed by the “global war on terror.” By 26 June 2006, the incident finally was being described as a “Pentagon Snafu” by ABC News. From the opening of reporter Jake Tapper’s investigative Webcast, established government institutions were put on the spot: “So, how much does the Pentagon know about videogames? Well, when it came to a recent appearance before Congress, apparently not enough.” Indeed, the very language about “experts” that was highlighted in the earlier coverage is repeated by Tapper in mockery, with the significant exception of “independent expert” Ian Bogost of the Georgia Institute of Technology. If the Pentagon and SAIC deride the legitimacy of rhetoric as a cultural practice, Bogost occupies himself with its defence. In his recent book Persuasive Games: The Expressive Power of Videogames, Bogost draws upon the authority of the “2,500 year history of rhetoric” to argue that videogames represent a significant development in that cultural narrative. Given that Bogost and his Watercooler Games Weblog co-editor Gonzalo Frasca were actively involved in the detective work that exposed the depth of professional incompetence involved in the government’s line-up of witnesses, it is appropriate that Bogost is given the final words in the ABC exposé. As Bogost says, “We should be deeply bothered by this. We should really be questioning the kind of advice that Congress is getting.” Bogost may be right that Congress received terrible counsel on that day, but a close reading of the transcript reveals that elected officials were much more than passive listeners: in fact they were lively participants in a cultural conversation about regulating digital media. After looking at the actual language of these exchanges, it seems that the persuasiveness of the misinformation from the Pentagon and SAIC had as much to do with lawmakers’ preconceived anxieties about practices of computer-mediated communication close to home as it did with the contradictory stereotypes that were presented to them about Internet practices abroad. In other words, lawmakers found themselves looking into a fun house mirror that distorted what should have been familiar artefacts of American popular culture because it was precisely what they wanted to see. References ABC News. “Terrorist Videogame?” Nightline Online. 21 June 2006. 22 June 2006 http://abcnews.go.com/Video/playerIndex?id=2105341>. Bogost, Ian. Persuasive Games: Videogames and Procedural Rhetoric. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 2007. Game Politics. “Was Congress Misled by ‘Terrorist’ Game Video? We Talk to Gamer Who Created the Footage.” 11 May 2006. http://gamepolitics.livejournal.com/285129.html#cutid1>. Jenkins, Henry. Convergence Culture: Where Old and New Media Collide. New York: New York UP, 2006. julieb. “David Morgan Is a Horrible Writer and Should Be Fired.” Online posting. 5 May 2006. Dvorak Uncensored Cage Match Forums. http://cagematch.dvorak.org/index.php/topic,130.0.html>. Mahmood. “Terrorists Don’t Recruit with Battlefield 2.” GGL Global Gaming. 16 May 2006 http://www.ggl.com/news.php?NewsId=3090>. Morgan, David. “Islamists Using U.S. Video Games in Youth Appeal.” Reuters online news service. 4 May 2006 http://today.reuters.com/news/ArticleNews.aspx?type=topNews &storyID=2006-05-04T215543Z_01_N04305973_RTRUKOC_0_US-SECURITY- VIDEOGAMES.xml&pageNumber=0&imageid=&cap=&sz=13&WTModLoc= NewsArt-C1-ArticlePage2>. Ong, Walter J. Orality and Literacy: The Technologizing of the Word. London/New York: Methuen, 1982. Parker, Trey. Online posting. 7 May 2006. 9 May 2006 http://www.treyparker.com>. Plato. “Gorgias.” Plato: Collected Dialogues. Princeton: Princeton UP, 1961. Shrader, Katherine. “Pentagon Surfing Thousands of Jihad Sites.” Associated Press 4 May 2006. SonicJihad. “SonicJihad: A Day in the Life of a Resistance Fighter.” Online posting. 26 Dec. 2005. Planet Battlefield Forums. 9 May 2006 http://www.forumplanet.com/planetbattlefield/topic.asp?fid=13670&tid=1806909&p=1>. Tapper, Jake, and Audery Taylor. “Terrorist Video Game or Pentagon Snafu?” ABC News Nightline 21 June 2006. 30 June 2006 http://abcnews.go.com/Nightline/Technology/story?id=2105128&page=1>. U.S. Congressional Record. Panel I of the Hearing of the House Select Intelligence Committee, Subject: “Terrorist Use of the Internet for Communications.” Federal News Service. 4 May 2006. Welch, Kathleen E. Electric Rhetoric: Classical Rhetoric, Oralism, and the New Literacy. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 1999. Citation reference for this article MLA Style Losh, Elizabeth. "Artificial Intelligence: Media Illiteracy and the SonicJihad Debacle in Congress." M/C Journal 10.5 (2007). echo date('d M. Y'); ?> <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0710/08-losh.php>. APA Style Losh, E. (Oct. 2007) "Artificial Intelligence: Media Illiteracy and the SonicJihad Debacle in Congress," M/C Journal, 10(5). Retrieved echo date('d M. Y'); ?> from <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0710/08-losh.php>.

IntroductionCoffee, as a stimulant, and the spaces in which it is has been consumed, have long played a vital role in fostering communication, creativity, and sociality. This article explores the interrelationship of café space, communication, creativity, and materialism. In developing these themes, this article is structured in two parts. The first looks back to the coffee houses of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries to give a historical context to the contemporary role of the café as a key site of creativity through its facilitation of social interaction, communication and information exchange. The second explores the continuation of the link between cafés, communication and creativity, through an instance from the mid-twentieth century where this process becomes individualised and is tied more intrinsically to the material surroundings of the café itself. From this, we argue that in order to understand the connection between café space and creativity, it is valuable to consider the rich polymorphic material and aesthetic composition of cafés. The Social Life of Coffee: London’s Coffee Houses While the social consumption of coffee has a long history, here we restrict our focus to a discussion of the London coffee houses of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. It was during the seventeenth century that the vogue of these coffee houses reached its zenith when they operated as a vibrant site of mercantile activity, as well as cultural and political exchange (Cowan; Lillywhite; Ellis). Many of these coffee houses were situated close to the places where politicians, merchants, and other significant people congregated and did business, near government buildings such as Parliament, as well as courts, ports and other travel route hubs (Lillywhite 17). A great deal of information was shared within these spaces and, as a result, the coffee house became a key venue for communication, especially the reading and distribution of print and scribal publications (Cowan 85). At this time, “no coffee house worth its name” would be without a ready selection of newspapers for its patrons (Cowan 173). By working to twenty-four hour diurnal cycles and heightening the sense of repetition and regularity, coffee houses also played a crucial role in routinising news as a form of daily consumption alongside other forms of habitual consumption (including that of coffee drinking). In Cowan’s words, “restoration coffee houses soon became known as places ‘dasht with diurnals and books of news’” (172). Among these was the short-lived but nonetheless infamous social gossip publication, The Tatler (1709-10), which was strongly associated with the London coffee houses and, despite its short publication life, offers great insight into the social life and scandals of the time. The coffee house became, in short, “the primary social space in which ‘news’ was both produced and consumed” (Cowan 172). The proprietors of coffee houses were quick to exploit this situation by dealing in “news mongering” and developing their own news publications to supplement their incomes (172). They sometimes printed news, commentary and gossip that other publishers were not willing to print. However, as their reputation as news providers grew, so did the pressure on coffee houses to meet the high cost of continually acquiring or producing journals (Cowan 173; Ellis 185-206). In addition to the provision of news, coffee houses were vital sites for other forms of communication. For example, coffee houses were key venues where “one might deposit and receive one’s mail” (Cowan 175), and the Penny Post used coffeehouses as vital pick-up and delivery centres (Lillywhite 17). As Cowan explains, “Many correspondents [including Jonathan Swift] used a coffeehouse as a convenient place to write their letters as well as to send them” (176). This service was apparently provided gratis for regular patrons, but coffee house owners were less happy to provide this for their more infrequent customers (Cowan 176). London’s coffee houses functioned, in short, as notable sites of sociality that bundled together drinking coffee with news provision and postal and other services to attract customers (Cowan; Ellis). Key to the success of the London coffee house of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries was the figure of the virtuoso habitué (Cowan 105)—an urbane individual of the middle or upper classes who was skilled in social intercourse, skills that were honed through participation in the highly ritualised and refined forms of interpersonal communication, such as visiting the stately homes of that time. In contrast to such private visits, the coffee house provided a less formalised and more spontaneous space of sociality, but where established social skills were distinctly advantageous. A striking example of the figure of the virtuoso habitué is the philosopher, architect and scientist Robert Hooke (1635-1703). Hooke, by all accounts, used the opportunities provided by his regular visits to coffee houses “to draw on the knowledge of a wide variety of individuals, from servants and skilled laborers to aristocrats, as well as to share and display novel scientific instruments” (Cowan 105) in order to explore and develop his virtuoso interests. The coffee house also served Hooke as a place to debate philosophy with cliques of “like-minded virtuosi” and thus formed the “premier locale” through which he could “fulfil his own view of himself as a virtuoso, as a man of business, [and] as a man at the centre of intellectual life in the city” (Cowan 105-06). For Hooke, the coffee house was a space for serious work, and he was known to complain when “little philosophical work” was accomplished (105-06). Sociality operates in this example as a form of creative performance, demonstrating individual skill, and is tied to other forms of creative output. Patronage of a coffee house involved hearing and passing on gossip as news, but also entailed skill in philosophical debate and other intellectual pursuits. It should also be noted that the complex role of the coffee house as a locus of communication, sociality, and creativity was repeated elsewhere. During the 1600s in Egypt (and elsewhere in the Middle East), for example, coffee houses served as sites of intensive literary activity as well as the locations for discussions of art, sciences and literature, not to mention also of gambling and drug use (Hattox 101). While the popularity of coffee houses had declined in London by the 1800s, café culture was flowering elsewhere in mainland Europe. In the late 1870s in Paris, Edgar Degas and Edward Manet documented the rich café life of the city in their drawings and paintings (Ellis 216). Meanwhile, in Vienna, “the kaffeehaus offered another evocative model of urban and artistic modernity” (Ellis 217; see also Bollerey 44-81). Serving wine and dinners as well as coffee and pastries, the kaffeehaus was, like cafés elsewhere in Europe, a mecca for writers, artists and intellectuals. The Café Royal in London survived into the twentieth century, mainly through the patronage of European expatriates and local intellectuals such as Wyndham Lewis, Ezra Pound, T. S. Elliot, and Henri Bergson (Ellis 220). This pattern of patronage within specific and more isolated cafés was repeated in famous gatherings of literary identities elsewhere in Europe throughout the twentieth century. From this historical perspective, a picture emerges of how the social functions of the coffee house and its successors, the espresso bar and modern café, have shifted over the course of their histories (Bollerey 44-81). In the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, the coffee house was an important location for vibrant social interaction and the consumption and distribution of various forms of communication such as gossip, news, and letters. However, in the years of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, the café was more commonly a site for more restricted social interaction between discrete groups. Studies of cafés and creativity during this era focus on cafés as “factories of literature, inciters to art, and breeding places for new ideas” (Fitch, The Grand 18). Central in these accounts are bohemian artists, their associated social circles, and their preferred cafés de bohème (for detailed discussion, see Wilson; Fitch, Paris Café; Brooker; Grafe and Bollerey 4-41). As much of this literature on café culture details, by the early twentieth century, cafés emerge as places that enable individuals to carve out a space for sociality and creativity which was not possible elsewhere in the modern metropolis. Writing on the modern metropolis, Simmel suggests that the concentration of people and things in cities “stimulate[s] the nervous system of the individual” to such an extent that it prompts a kind of self-preservation that he terms a “blasé attitude” (415). This is a form of “reserve”, he writes, which “grants to the individual a [certain] kind and an amount of personal freedom” that was hitherto unknown (416). Cafés arguably form a key site in feeding this dynamic insofar as they facilitate self-protectionism—Fitch’s “pool of privacy” (The Grand 22)—and, at the same time, produce a sense of individual freedom in Simmel’s sense of the term. That is to say, from the early-to-mid twentieth century, cafés have become complex settings in terms of the relationships they enable or constrain between living in public, privacy, intimacy, and cultural practice. (See Haine for a detailed discussion of how this plays out in relation to working class engagement with Paris cafés, and Wilson as well as White on other cultural contexts, such as Japan.) Threaded throughout this history is a clear celebration of the individual artist as a kind of virtuoso habitué of the contemporary café. Café Jama Michalika The following historical moment, drawn from a powerful point in the mid-twentieth century, illustrates this last stage in the evolution of the relationship between café space, communication, and creativity. This particular historical moment concerns the renowned Polish composer and conductor Krzysztof Penderecki, who is most well-known for his avant-garde piece Threnody to the Victims of Hiroshima (1960), his Polymorphia (1961), and St Luke Passion (1963-66), all of which entailed new compositional and notation techniques. Poland, along with other European countries devastated by the Second World War, underwent significant rebuilding after the war, also investing heavily in the arts, musical education, new concert halls, and conservatoria (Monastra). In the immediate post-war period, Poland and Polish culture was under the strong ideological influence exerted by the Soviet Union. However, as Thomas notes, within a year of Stalin’s death in 1953, “there were flickering signs of moderation in Polish culture” (83). With respect to musical creativity, a key turning point was the Warsaw Autumn Music Festival of 1956. “The driving force” behind the first festival (which was to become an annual event), was Polish “composers’ overwhelming sense of cultural isolation and their wish to break the provincial nature of Polish music” at that time (Thomas 85). Penderecki was one of a younger generation of composers who participated in, and benefited from, these early festivals, making his first appearance in 1959 with his composition Strophes, and successive appearances with Dimensions of Time and Silence in 1960, and Threnody in 1961 (Thomas 90). Penderecki married in the 1950s and had a child in 1955. This, in combination with the fact that his wife was a pianist and needed to practice daily, restricted Penderecki’s ability to work in their small Krakow apartment. Nor could he find space at the music school which was free from the intrusion of the sound of other instruments. Instead, he frequented the café Jama Michalika off the central square of Krakow, where he worked most days between nine in the morning and noon, when he would leave as a pianist began to play. Penderecki states that because of the small space of the café table, he had to “invent [a] special kind of notation which allowed me to write the piece which was for 52 instruments, like Threnody, on one small piece of paper” (Krzysztof Penderecki, 2000). In this, Penderecki created a completely new set of notation symbols, which assisted him in graphically representing tone clustering (Robinson 6) while, in his score for Polymorphia, he implemented “novel graphic notation, comparable with medical temperature charts, or oscillograms” (Schwinger 29) to represent in the most compact way possible the dense layering of sounds and vocal elements that is developed in this particular piece. This historical account is valuable because it contributes to discussions on individual creativity that both depends on, and occurs within, the material space of the café. This relationship is explored in Walter Benjamin’s essay “Polyclinic”, where he develops an extended analogy between the writer and the café and the surgeon and his instruments. As Cohen summarises, “Benjamin constructs the field of writerly operation both in medical terms and as a space dear to Parisian intellectuals, as an operating table that is also the marble-topped table of a café” (179). At this time, the space of the café itself thus becomes a vital site for individual cultural production, putting the artist in touch with the social life of the city, as many accounts of writers and artists in the cafés of Paris, Prague, Vienna, and elsewhere in Europe attest. “The attraction of the café for the writer”, Fitch argues, “is that seeming tension between the intimate circle of privacy in a comfortable room, on the one hand, and the flow of (perhaps usable) information all around on the other” (The Grand 11). Penderecki talks about searching for a sound while composing in café Jama Michalika and, hearing the noise of a passing tram, subsequently incorporated it into his famous composition, Threnody (Krzysztof Penderecki, 2000). There is an indirect connection here with the attractions of the seventeenth century coffee houses in London, where news writers drew much of their gossip and news from the talk within the coffee houses. However, the shift is to a more isolated, individualistic habitué. Nonetheless, the aesthetic composition of the café space remains essential to the creative productivity described by Penderecki. A concept that can be used to describe this method of composition is contained within one of Penderecki’s best-known pieces, Polymorphia (1961). The term “polymorphia” refers not to the form of the music itself (which is actually quite conventionally structured) but rather to the multiple blending of sounds. Schwinger defines polymorphia as “many formedness […] which applies not […] to the form of the piece, but to the broadly deployed scale of sound, [the] exchange and simultaneous penetration of sound and noise, the contrast and interflow of soft and hard sounds” (131). This description also reflects the rich material context of the café space as Penderecki describes its role in shaping (both enabling and constraining) his creative output. Creativity, Technology, Materialism The materiality of the café—including the table itself for Penderecki—is crucial in understanding the relationship between the forms of creative output and the material conditions of the spaces that enable them. In Penderecki’s case, to understand the origins of the score and even his innovative forms of musical notation as artefacts of communication, we need to understand the material conditions under which they were created. As a fixture of twentieth and twenty-first century urban environments, the café mediates the private within the public in a way that offers the contemporary virtuoso habitué a rich, polymorphic sensory experience. In a discussion of the indivisibility of sensation and its resistance to language, writer Anna Gibbs describes these rich experiential qualities: sitting by the window in a café watching the busy streetscape with the warmth of the morning sun on my back, I smell the delicious aroma of coffee and simultaneously feel its warmth in my mouth, taste it, and can tell the choice of bean as I listen idly to the chatter in the café around me and all these things blend into my experience of “being in the café” (201). Gibbs’s point is that the world of the café is highly synaesthetic and infused with sensual interconnections. The din of the café with its white noise of conversation and overlaying sounds of often carefully chosen music illustrates the extension of taste beyond the flavour of the coffee on the palate. In this way, the café space provides the infrastructure for a type of creative output that, in Gibbs’s case, facilitates her explanation of expression and affect. The individualised virtuoso habitué, as characterised by Penderecki’s work within café Jama Michalika, simply describes one (celebrated) form of the material conditions of communication and creativity. An essential factor in creative cultural output is contained in the ways in which material conditions such as these come to be organised. As Elizabeth Grosz expresses it: Art is the regulation and organisation of its materials—paint, canvas, concrete, steel, marble, words, sounds, bodily movements, indeed any materials—according to self-imposed constraints, the creation of forms through which these materials come to generate and intensify sensation and thus directly impact living bodies, organs, nervous systems (4). Materialist and medium-oriented theories of media and communication have emphasised the impact of physical constraints and enablers on the forms produced. McLuhan, for example, famously argued that the typewriter brought writing, speech, and publication into closer association, one effect of which was the tighter regulation of spelling and grammar, a pressure toward precision and uniformity that saw a jump in the sales of dictionaries (279). In the poetry of E. E. Cummings, McLuhan sees the typewriter as enabling a patterned layout of text that functions as “a musical score for choral speech” (278). In the same way, the café in Penderecki’s recollections both constrains his ability to compose freely (a creative activity that normally requires ample flat surface), but also facilitates the invention of a new language for composition, one able to accommodate the small space of the café table. Recent studies that have sought to materialise language and communication point to its physicality and the embodied forms through which communication occurs. As Packer and Crofts Wiley explain, “infrastructure, space, technology, and the body become the focus, a move that situates communication and culture within a physical, corporeal landscape” (3). The confined and often crowded space of the café and its individual tables shape the form of productive output in Penderecki’s case. Targeting these material constraints and enablers in her discussion of art, creativity and territoriality, Grosz describes the “architectural force of framing” as liberating “the qualities of objects or events that come to constitute the substance, the matter, of the art-work” (11). More broadly, the design features of the café, the form and layout of the tables and the space made available for individual habitation, the din of the social encounters, and even the stimulating influences on the body of the coffee served there, can be seen to act as enablers of communication and creativity. Conclusion The historical examples examined above indicate a material link between cafés and communication. They also suggest a relationship between materialism and creativity, as well as the roots of the romantic association—or mythos—of cafés as a key source of cultural life as they offer a “shared place of composition” and an “environment for creative work” (Fitch, The Grand 11). We have detailed one example pertaining to European coffee consumption, cafés and creativity. While we believe Penderecki’s case is valuable in terms of what it can tell us about forms of communication and creativity, clearly other cultural and historical contexts may reveal additional insights—as may be found in the cases of Middle Eastern cafés (Hattox) or the North American diner (Hurley), and in contemporary developments such as the café as a source of free WiFi and the commodification associated with global coffee chains. Penderecki’s example, we suggest, also sheds light on a longer history of creativity and cultural production that intersects with contemporary work practices in city spaces as well as conceptualisations of the individual’s place within complex urban spaces. References Benjamin, Walter. “Polyclinic” in “One-Way Street.” One-Way Street and Other Writings. Trans. Edmund Jephcott and Kingsley Shorter. London: Verso, 1998: 88-9. 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Durham: Duke University Press, 2010. 186-205. Grafe, Christoph, and Franziska Bollerey. “Introduction: Cafés and Bars—Places for Sociability.” Cafés and Bars: The Architecture of Public Display. Eds. Christoph Grafe and Franziska Bollerey. New York: Routledge, 2007. 4-41. Grosz, Elizabeth. Chaos, Territory, Art: Deleuze and the Framing of the Earth. New York: Columbia UP, 2008. Haine, W. Scott. The World of the Paris Café. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins UP, 1996. Hattox, Ralph S. Coffee and Coffeehouses: The Origins of a Social Beverage in the Medieval Near East. Seattle: U of Washington P, 1985. Hurley, Andrew. Diners, Bowling Alleys and Trailer Parks: Chasing the American Dream in the Postwar Consumer Culture. New York: Basic Books, 2001. Krzysztof Penderecki. Dir. Andreas Missler-Morell. Spektrum TV production and Telewizja Polska S.A. Oddzial W Krakowie for RM Associates and ZDF in cooperation with ARTE, 2000. Lillywhite, Bryant. London Coffee Houses: A Reference Book of Coffee Houses of the Seventeenth, Eighteenth, and Nineteenth Centuries. London: George Allen & Unwin, 1963. McLuhan, Marshall. Understanding Media: The Extensions of Man. London: Abacus, 1974. Monastra, Peggy. “Krzysztof Penderecki’s Polymorphia and Fluorescence.” Moldenhauer Archives, [US] Library of Congress. 12 Jan. 2012 ‹http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/collections/moldenhauer/2428143.pdf› Packer, Jeremy, and Stephen B. Crofts Wiley. “Introduction: The Materiality of Communication.” Communication Matters: Materialist Approaches to Media, Mobility and Networks. New York, Routledge, 2012. 3-16. Robinson, R. Krzysztof Penderecki: A Guide to His Works. Princeton, NJ: Prestige Publications, 1983. Schwinger, Wolfram. Krzysztof Penderecki: His Life and Work. Encounters, Biography and Musical Commentary. London: Schott, 1979. Simmel, Georg. The Sociology of Georg Simmel. Ed. and trans. Kurt H. Wolff. Glencoe, IL: The Free P, 1960. Thomas, Adrian. 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Diaspora This article looks at diaspora through the transformations of an established public service broadcaster, the BBC World Service, by considering some of the findings of the AHRC-funded Tuning In: Contact Zones at the BBC World Service, which is part of the Diasporas, Migration and Identities program. Tuning In has six themes, each of which focuses upon the role of the BBC WS: The Politics of Translation, Diasporic Nationhood, Religious Transnationalism, Sport across Diasporas, Migrating Music and Drama for Development. The World Service, which was until 2011 funded by the Foreign Office, was set up to cater for the British diaspora and had the specific remit of transmitting ideas about Britishness to its audiences overseas. Tuning In demonstrates interrelationships between the global and the local in the diasporic contact zone of the BBC World Service, which has provided a mediated home for the worldwide British diaspora since its inception in 1932. The local and the global have merged, elided, and separated at different times and in different spaces in the changing story of the BBC (Briggs). The BBC WS is both local and global with activities that present Britishness both at home and abroad. The service has, however, come a long way since its early days as the Empire Service. Audiences for the World Service’s 31 foreign language services, radio, television, and Internet facilities include substantive non-British/English-speaking constituencies, rendering it a contact zone for the exploration of ideas and political opportunities on a truly transnational scale. This heterogeneous body of exilic, refugee intellectuals, writers, and artists now operates alongside an ongoing expression of Britishness in all its diverse reconfiguration. This includes the residual voice of empire and its patriarchal paternalism, the embrace of more recent expressions of neoliberalism as well as traditional values of impartiality and objectivism and, in the case of the arts, elements of bohemianism and creative innovation. The World Service might have begun as a communication system for the British ex-pat diaspora, but its role has changed along with the changing relationship between Britain and its colonial past. In the terrain of sport, for example, cricket, the “game of empire,” has shifted from Britain to the Indian subcontinent (Guha) with the rise of “Twenty 20” and the Indian Premier League (IPL); summed up in Ashis Nandy’s claim that “cricket is an Indian game accidentally discovered by the English” (Nandy viii). English county cricket dominated the airways of the World Service well into the latter half of the twentieth century, but the audiences of the service have demanded a response to social and cultural change and the service has responded. Sport can thus be seen to have offered a democratic space in which new diasporic relations can be forged as well as one in which colonial and patriarchal values are maintained. The BBC WS today is part of a network through which non-British diasporic peoples can reconnect with their home countries via the service, as well as an online forum for debate across the globe. In many regions of the world, it continues to be the single most trusted source of information at times of crisis and disaster because of its traditions of impartiality and objectivity, even though (as noted in the article on Al-Jazeera in this special issue) this view is hotly contested. The principles of objectivity and impartiality are central to the BBC WS, which may seem paradoxical since it is funded by the Commonwealth and Foreign office, and its origins lie in empire and colonial discourse. Archive material researched by our project demonstrates the specifically ideological role of what was first called the Empire Service. The language of empire was deployed in this early programming, and there is an explicit expression of an ideological purpose (Hill). For example, at the Imperial Conference in 1930, the service was supported in terms of its political powers of “strengthening ties” between parts of the empire. This view comes from a speech by John Reith, the BBC’s first Director General, which was broadcast when the service opened. In this speech, broadcasting is identified as having come to involve a “connecting and co-ordinating link between the scattered parts of the British Empire” (Reith). Local British values are transmitted across the globe. Through the service, empire and nation are reinstated through the routine broadcasting of cyclical events, the importance of which Scannell and Cardiff describe as follows: Nothing so well illustrates the noiseless manner in which the BBC became perhaps the central agent of national culture as its cyclical role; the cyclical production year in year out, of an orderly, regular progression of festivities, rituals and celebrations—major and minor, civic and sacred—that mark the unfolding of the broadcast year. (278; italics in the original) State occasions and big moments, including those directly concerned with governance and affairs of state, and those which focused upon sport and religion, were a big part in these “noiseless” cycles, and became key elements in the making of Britishness across the globe. The BBC is “noiseless” because the timetable is assumed and taken for granted as not only what is but what should be. However, the BBC WS has been and has had to be responsive to major shifts in global and local—and, indeed, glocal—power geometries that have led to spatial transformations, notably in the reconfiguration of the service in the era of postcolonialism. Some of these massive changes have involved the large-scale movement of people and a concomitant rethinking of diaspora as a concept. Empire, like nation, operates as an “imagined community,” too big to be grasped by individuals (Anderson), as well as a material actuality. The dynamics of identification are rarely linear and there are inconsistencies and disruptions: even when the voice is officially that of empire, the practice of the World Service is much more diverse, nuanced, and dialogical. The BBC WS challenges boundaries through the connectivities of communication and through different ways of belonging and, similarly, through a problematisation of concepts like attachment and detachment; this is most notable in the way in which programming has adapted to new diasporic audiences and in the reworkings of spatiality in the shift from empire to diversity via multiculturalism. There are tensions between diaspora and multiculturalism that are apparent in a discussion of broadcasting and communication networks. Diaspora has been distinguished by mobility and hybridity (Clifford, Hall, Bhaba, Gilroy) and it has been argued that the adjectival use of diasporic offers more opportunity for fluidity and transformation (Clifford). The concept of diaspora, as it has been used to explain the fluidity and mobility of diasporic identifications, can challenge more stabilised, “classic” understandings of diaspora (Chivallon). A hybrid version of diaspora might sit uneasily with a strong sense of belonging and with the idea that the broadcast media offer a multicultural space in which each voice can be heard and a wide range of cultures are present. Tuning In engaged with ways of rethinking the BBC’s relationship to diaspora in the twenty-first century in a number of ways: for example, in the intersection of discursive regimes of representation; in the status of public service broadcasting; vis-à-vis the consequences of diverse diasporic audiences; through the role of cultural intermediaries such as journalists and writers; and via global economic and political materialities (Gillespie, Webb and Baumann). Tuning In thus provided a multi-themed and methodologically diverse exploration of how the BBC WS is itself a series of spaces which are constitutive of the transformation of diasporic identifications. Exploring the part played by the BBC WS in changing and continuing social flows and networks involves, first, reconfiguring what is understood by transnationalism, diaspora, and postcolonial relationalities: in particular, attending to how these transform as well as sometimes reinstate colonial and patriarchal discourses and practices, thus bringing together different dimensions of the local and the global. Tuning In ranges across different fields, embracing cultural, social, and political areas of experience as represented in broadcasting coverage. These fields illustrate the educative role of the BBC and the World Service that is also linked to its particular version of impartiality; just as The Archers was set up to provide information and guidance through a narrative of everyday life to rural communities and farmers after the Second World War, so the Afghan version plays an “edutainment” role (Skuse) where entertainment also serves an educational, public service information role. Indeed, the use of soap opera genre such as The Archers as a vehicle for humanitarian and health information has been very successful over the past decade, with the “edutainment” genre becoming a feature of the World Service’s broadcasting in places such as Rwanda, Somalia, Nigeria, India, Nepal, Burma, Afghanistan, and Cambodia. In a genre that has been promoted by the World Service Trust, the charitable arm of the BBC WS uses drama formats to build transnational production relationships with media professionals and to strengthen creative capacities to undertake behaviour change through communication work. Such programming, which is in the tradition of the BBC WS, draws upon the service’s expertise and exhibits both an ideological commitment to progressive social intervention and a paternalist approach drawing upon colonialist legacies. Nowadays, however, the BBC WS can be considered a diasporic contact zone, providing sites of transnational intra-diasporic contact as well as cross-cultural encounters, spaces for cross-diasporic creativity and representation, and a forum for cross-cultural dialogue and potentially cosmopolitan translations (Pratt, Clifford). These activities are, however, still marked by historically forged asymmetric power relations, notably of colonialism, imperialism, and globalisation, as well as still being dominated by hegemonic masculinity in many parts of the service, which thus represent sites of contestation, conflict, and transgression. Conversely, diasporic identities are themselves co-shaped by media representations (Sreberny). The diasporic contact zone is a relational space in which diasporic identities are made and remade and contested. Tuning In employed a diverse range of methods to analyse the part played by the BBC WS in changing and continuing social and cultural flows, networks, and reconfigurations of transnationalisms and diaspora, as well as reinstating colonial, patriarchal practices. The research deconstructed some assumptions and conditions of class-based elitism, colonialism, and patriarchy through a range of strategies. Texts are, of course, central to this work, with the BBC Archives at Caversham (near Reading) representing the starting point for many researchers. The archive is a rich source of material for researchers which carries a vast range of data including fragile memos written on scraps of paper: a very local source of global communications. Other textual material occupies the less locatable cyberspace, for example in the case of Have Your Say exchanges on the Web. People also featured in the project, through the media, in cyberspace, and physical encounters, all of which demonstrate the diverse modes of connection that have been established. Researchers worked with the BBC WS in a variety of ways, not only through interviews and ethnographic approaches, such as participant observation and witness seminars, but also through exchanges between the service, its practitioners, and the researchers (for example, through broadcasts where the project provided the content and the ideas and researchers have been part of programs that have gone out on the BBC WS (Goldblatt, Webb), bringing together people who work for the BBC and Tuning In researchers). On this point, it should be remembered that Bush House is, itself, a diasporic space which, from its geographical location in the Strand in London, has brought together diasporic people from around the globe to establish international communication networks, and has thus become the focus and locus of some of our research. What we have understood by the term “diasporic space” in this context includes both the materialities of architecture and cyberspace which is the site of digital diasporas (Anderssen) and, indeed, the virtual exchanges featured on “Have Your Say,” the online feedback site (Tuning In). Living the Glocal The BBC WS offers a mode of communication and a series of networks that are spatially located both in the UK, through the material presence of Bush House, and abroad, through the diasporic communities constituting contemporary audiences. The service may have been set up to provide news and entertainment for the British diaspora abroad, but the transformation of the UK into a multi-ethnic society “at home,” alongside its commitment to, and the servicing of, no less than 32 countries abroad, demonstrates a new mission and a new balance of power. Different diasporic communities, such as multi-ethnic Londoners, and local and British Muslims in the north of England, demonstrate the dynamics and ambivalences of what is meant by “diaspora” today. For example, the BBC and the WS play an ambiguous role in the lives of UK Muslim communities with Pakistani connections, where consumers of the international news can feel that the BBC is complicit in the conflation of Muslims with terrorists. Engaging Diaspora Audiences demonstrated the diversity of audience reception in a climate of marginalisation, often bordering on moral panic, and showed how diasporic audiences often use Al-Jazeera or Pakistani and Urdu channels, which are seen to take up more sympathetic political positions. It seems, however, that more egalitarian conversations are becoming possible through the channels of the WS. The participation of local people in the BBC WS global project is seen, for example, as in the popular “Witness Seminars” that have both a current focus and one that is projected into the future, as in the case of the “2012 Generation” (that is, the young people who come of age in 2012, the year of the London Olympics). The Witness Seminars demonstrate the recuperation of past political and social events such as “Bangladesh in 1971” (Tuning In), “The Cold War seminar” (Tuning In) and “Diasporic Nationhood” (the cultural movements reiterated and recovered in the “Literary Lives” project (Gillespie, Baumann and Zinik). Indeed, the WS’s current focus on the “2012 Generation,” including an event in which 27 young people (each of whom speaks one of the WS languages) were invited to an open day at Bush House in 2009, vividly illustrates how things have changed. Whereas in 1948 (the last occasion when the Olympic Games were held in London), the world came to London, it is arguable that, in 2012, in contemporary multi-ethnic Britain, the world is already here (Webb). This enterprise has the advantage of giving voice to the present rather than filtering the present through the legacies of colonialism that remain a problem for the Witness Seminars more generally. The democratising possibilities of sport, as well as the restrictions of its globalising elements, are well represented by Tuning In (Woodward). Sport has, of course become more globalised, especially through the development of Internet and satellite technologies (Giulianotti) but it retains powerful local affiliations and identifications. At all levels and in diverse places, there are strong attachments to local and national teams that are constitutive of communities, including diasporic and multi-ethnic communities. Sport is both typical and distinctive of the BBC World Service; something that is part of a wider picture but also an area of experience with a life of its own. Our “Sport across Diasporas” project has thus explored some of the routes the World Service has travelled in its engagement with sport in order to provide some understanding of the legacy of empire and patriarchy, as well as engaging with the multiplicities of change in the reconstruction of Britishness. Here, it is important to recognise that what began as “BBC Sport” evolved into “World Service Sport.” Coverage of the world’s biggest sporting events was established through the 1930s to the 1960s in the development of the BBC WS. However, it is not only the global dimensions of sporting events that have been assumed; so too are national identifications. There is no question that the superiority of British/English sport is naturalised through its dominance of the BBC WS airways, but the possibilities of reinterpretation and re-accommodation have also been made possible. There has, indeed, been a changing place of sport in the BBC WS, which can only be understood with reference to wider changes in the relationship between broadcasting and sport, and demonstrates the powerful synchronies between social, political, technological, economic, and cultural factors, notably those that make up the media–sport–commerce nexus that drives so much of the trajectory of contemporary sport. Diasporic audiences shape the schedule as much as what is broadcast. There is no single voice of the BBC in sport. The BBC archive demonstrates a variety of narratives through the development and transformation of the World Service’s sports broadcasting. There are, however, silences: notably those involving women. Sport is still a patriarchal field. However, the imperial genealogies of sport are inextricably entwined with the social, political, and cultural changes taking place in the wider world. There is no detectable linear narrative but rather a series of tensions and contradictions that are reflected and reconfigured in the texts in which deliberations are made. In sport broadcasting, the relationship of the BBC WS with its listeners is, in many instances, genuinely dialogic: for example, through “Have Your Say” websites and internet forums, and some of the actors in these dialogic exchanges are the broadcasters themselves. The history of the BBC and the World Service is one which manifests a degree of autonomy and some spontaneity on the part of journalists and broadcasters. For example, in the case of the BBC WS African sports program, Fast Track (2009), many of the broadcasters interviewed report being able to cover material not technically within their brief; news journalists are able to engage with sporting events and sports journalists have covered social and political news (Woodward). Sometimes this is a matter of taking the initiative or simply of being in the right place at the right time, although this affords an agency to journalists which is increasingly unlikely in the twenty-first century. The Politics of Translation: Words and Music The World Service has played a key role as a cultural broker in the political arena through what could be construed as “educational broadcasting” via the wider terrain of the arts: for example, literature, drama, poetry, and music. Over the years, Bush House has been a home-from-home for poets: internationalists, translators from classical and modern languages, and bohemians; a constituency that, for all its cosmopolitanism, was predominantly white and male in the early days. For example, in the 1930s and 1940s, Louis MacNeice was commissioning editor and surrounded by a friendship network of salaried poets, such as W. H. Auden, Dylan Thomas, C. Day Lewis, and Stephen Spender, who wrote and performed their work for the WS. The foreign language departments of the BBC WS, meanwhile, hired émigrés and exiles from their countries’ educated elites to do similar work. The biannual, book-format journal Modern Poetry in Translation (MPT), which was founded in 1965 by Daniel Weissbort and Ted Hughes, included a dedication in Weissbort’s final issue (MPT 22, 2003) to “Poets at Bush House.” This volume amounts to a celebration of the BBC WS and its creative culture, which extended beyond the confines of broadcasting spaces. The reminiscences in “Poets at Bush House” suggest an institutional culture of informal connections and a fluidity of local exchanges that is resonant of the fluidity of the flows and networks of diaspora (Cheesman). Music, too, has distinctive characteristics that mark out this terrain on the broadcast schedule and in the culture of the BBC WS. Music is differentiated from language-centred genres, making it a particularly powerful medium of cross-cultural exchange. Music is portable and yet is marked by a cultural rootedness that may impede translation and interpretation. Music also carries ambiguities as a marker of status across borders, and it combines aesthetic intensity and diffuseness. The Migrating Music project demonstrated BBC WS mediation of music and identity flows (Toynbee). In the production and scheduling notes, issues of migration and diaspora are often addressed directly in the programming of music, while the movement of peoples is a leitmotif in all programs in which music is played and discussed. Music genres are mobile, diasporic, and can be constitutive of Paul Gilroy’s “Black Atlantic” (Gilroy), which foregrounds the itinerary of West African music to the Caribbean via the Middle Passage, cross-fertilising with European traditions in the Americas to produce blues and other hybrid forms, and the journey of these forms to Europe. The Migrating Music project focused upon the role of the BBC WS as narrator of the Black Atlantic story and of South Asian cross-over music, from bhangra to filmi, which can be situated among the South Asian diaspora in east and south Africa as well as the Caribbean where they now interact with reggae, calypso, Rapso, and Popso. The transversal flows of music and lyrics encompasses the lived experience of the different diasporas that are accommodated in the BBC WS schedules: for example, they keep alive the connection between the Irish “at home” and in the diaspora through programs featuring traditional music, further demonstrating the interconnections between local and global attachments as well as points of disconnection and contradiction. Textual analysis—including discourse analysis of presenters’ speech, program trailers and dialogue and the BBC’s own construction of “world music”—has revealed that the BBC WS itself performs a constitutive role in keeping alive these traditions. Music, too, has a range of emotional affects which are manifest in the semiotic analyses that have been conducted of recordings and performances. Further, the creative personnel who are involved in music programming, including musicians, play their own role in this ongoing process of musical migration. Once again, the networks of people involved as practitioners become central to the processes and systems through which diasporic audiences are re-produced and engaged. Conclusion The BBC WS can claim to be a global and local cultural intermediary not only because the service was set up to engage with the British diaspora in an international context but because the service, today, is demonstrably a voice that is continually negotiating multi-ethnic audiences both in the UK and across the world. At best, the World Service is a dynamic facilitator of conversations within and across diasporas: ideas are relocated, translated, and travel in different directions. The “local” of a British broadcasting service, established to promote British values across the globe, has been transformed, both through its engagements with an increasingly diverse set of diasporic audiences and through the transformations in how diasporas themselves self-define and operate. On the BBC WS, demographic, social, and cultural changes mean that the global is now to be found in the local of the UK and any simplistic separation of local and global is no longer tenable. The educative role once adopted by the BBC, and then the World Service, nevertheless still persists in other contexts (“from Ambridge to Afghanistan”), and clearly the WS still treads a dangerous path between the paternalism and patriarchy of its colonial past and its responsiveness to change. 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