Articoli di riviste sul tema "Image d’état"

Le Québec est longtemps apparu comme la terre de prédilection des médias communautaires. Ces pratiques ont le plus souvent été liées à des projets d’aide gouvernementale. Mais actuellement les subventions d’État ne peuvent plus suffire à assurer la continuité de ces expériences. On ne peut considérer les médias communautaires comme un bloc homogène ou leur prêter une image d’expériences progressistes ou d’alternatives par simple opposition aux médias de masse. Pour les comprendre et en mesurer les enjeux, il convient de situer les médias communautaires dans le cadre du développement politique, économique et culturel de la société québécoise. C’est précisément à quoi s’attache cet article qui dresse un cadre d’analyse global de compréhension des médias et tente d’évaluer leur développement probable dans un contexte de pénurie.

Abstract Le Naufrage de la Pucelle is a work written by Jean Molinet in 1477 to relate, in allegorical form, the attack of Louis XI to Mary of Burgundy’s States at the beginning of that same year. The text presents a vessel adrift, an image of Burgundy itself, manned by a duchess who is incapable of steering it and with a divided crew, which is also a true reflection of the inner situation of the territories ruled by the daughter of Charles the Bold. The crew members are surrounded by sea animals that seek to sink them, an image of the brutality of the French attack, but they are finally rescued by eagles that embody the imperial power. The text, which is faithful to the Burgundian chivalric ideology, is built through various levels of interpretation, where the allegory not only reflects the political situation, but it also conveys religious motifs that will be common in other later works by Molinet himself, indiciaire of the duchy during those terrible years.

Dès 1948, le président de la République argentine, Juan Perón, proclame que les sportifs sont les « meilleurs ambassadeurs du pays ». Cette déclaration devient un argument privilégié pour justifier le soutien gouvernemental accordé aux athlètes de haut niveau sous le péronisme. Cet article examine l’intégration progressive des sportifs au programme diplomatique du régime. Face à l’hostilité généralisée de la part de la communauté internationale, le gouvernement péroniste a recours au sport pour tenter de rompre son isolement et de redorer son image à l’extérieur. À travers l’exemple des délégations olympiques et la mise en place d’un système d’« amateurs d’État », cet article explore la transformation des athlètes en représentants de la nation et en promoteurs du péronisme, envoyés en mission à l’étranger.

Résumé En 1971 la République Démocratique du Congo (l’ancien Congo belge) est devenue le Zaïre et le concept d’authenticité a été mis au centre d’un projet nationaliste qui utilisait le passé pour se projeter dans l’avenir. En même temps que le gouvernement Mobutu se forçait à créer une image et une identité nationale unifiée (zaïroise), il insistait sur l’existence de plus de 350 groupes ethniques qui composaient la mosaïque du paysage national. La gestion de cette diversité reposait en grande partie sur une stratégie de mise en public des chants et danses traditionnels des principaux groupements ethniques et linguistiques du pays : l’animation politique et culturelle. Inspirée par la pensée de la négritude mais aussi par les spectacles patriotiques que Mobutu avait observés lors d’une visite officielle en Corée du Nord et en Chine, l’animation politique et culturelle dominait non seulement la sphère publique, mais aussi l’imaginaire politique du pays. L’imposition de ce phénomène dans tous les aspects de la vie publique (écoles, entreprises privées, entreprises d’État, télévision et radio, associations de quartier) a permis à Mobutu de consolider son autorité en tant que « Président-Fondateur » et « Père de la Révolution », mais il cela a eu aussi pour effet de transformer la façon dont la notion de la culture est vécue et comprise.

December 17, 1926 marked a change for the young independent Republic of Lithuania. On that day a military coup d’état replaced the democratically elected government with the authoritarian government led by ultra-conservative Lithua- nian Nationalist Union (Tautininkų sąjungos) party leader Antanas Smetona. The new government increased the control of various means of mass communication. In 1932 Film censorship law was passed, which created one centralised institution to censor all films shown in Lithuania (before this law, censorship was sporadic and done by different district officials). The same year Newsreels law was passed, which ordered that before any feature film screening, a Lithuanian newsreel must be shown. This law boosted the small Lithuanian film-making community. But not for long, by 1935 all rights to make Lithuanian newsreels were granted to one company run by filmmaker Jurgis Linartas, and old acquaintance of Anta- nas Smetona. From then on, only the Lithuanian newsreels produced by Jurgis Linartas could be shown in theatres. By means of censorship and control of news- reel production, Antanas Smetona’s regime tried to create an alternative reality to be shown in cinemas. But the new reality not only contrasted with real life too much, its making was too much of a task to handle by the regime. Audience reac- tion to Antanas Smetona’s period newsreels and their shortcomings, show us the construction of ideal image of Lithuania failed in interwar Lithuanian newsreels.

Introduction. The article examines the reaction of American diplomatic, political and media circles, who were involved in the development of the US political course and the formation of mass sentiments, to the crisis in Czechoslovakia in February 1948. It reveals connections between the perceptions of political processes in Eastern Europe by various segments of the American political elite and the nature of political decisions made by the US government. Methods. The research is based on archival documents and articles of leading American papers. Their analysis allows us to consider the transformation of the image of Czechoslovakia, perceptions of its domestic and foreign policy, the evolution of assessments of Czechoslovak realities in the US, depending on the domestic and international situation and changing world situation. Analysis. In February 1948, during the tense political crisis, a communist regime was established in Czechoslovakia. This event completed the creation of the Soviet bloc in Europe, and influenced the development of the US containment policy towards the USSR and the escalation of the Cold War. The February crisis caused a tangible reaction in the United States. It was considered in American media, diplomatic and political circles in general context of growing international tension and Soviet-American controversies. Results. The author concludes that the US government was convinced that the communists’ coup d’état was inspired by the Kremlin. The Americans were shocked by its suddenness and speed, the lack of resistance from democratic forces. This effect was used by the US government to whip up anti-Soviet sentiments and to adopt the Marshall Plan.

The article is devoted to the understanding of the Russian culture as a phenomenon of Eastern Christian civilization. The author analyzes the main historical stages of the formation of the Russian culture in its interrelation with religion, worldview and social political life of the corresponding period against the background of substantial facts, principally based on the Russian literature and philosophy. Proceeding from the principled diagram of civilization as a concentric system of social casings, located around the religious valuables kernel, the author keynotes the continuity of the country’s cultural code despite the revolutionary shifts in time, irrespective of the existence of the Peter the Great Western-like reform, February or October coup d’état in 1917 or collapse of the USSR late in XX century. The basic methodological categories of the given analysis are the paradigms of the classical, modernist and post modernist style as integral features of history and theory of the Russian Orthodox civilization on the whole, starting from Baptizing of the Russ and ending with the contemporary crucial stage of its existence. The principled attention is drawn towards the general European and world context, which take place in this country’s culture and which on the one hand are an aspect of the global ideological development, and on the other are the unique creative acts of our centuries-old tradition. In this aspect this country’ spiritual culture with all its worldwide nature (Dostoevsky F.M.), early XXI century is becoming a kind of an alternative for a post modernist destruction of a man’s image as an integral being. The utmost expression of the latter are the trans humanistic tendencies in the “decline of Europe”, threatening to turn Homo Sapiens into an artificial cyborg.

„Crossroads images”, as Régine Robin called them, monuments are central to processes of appropriation or disavowal of the past, while preserving their status as symbols of identity for individuals, various groups, a city, and the nation. They are concrete images of the relation to the past of the community that builds and, sometimes, destroys them. They can also be vandalized when changes in society occur, especially during revolutions and coups d’état. After the fall of the communism, the fate of the monuments built during the old regime can be broken down into two contrasting categories: those illustrating communist ideological figures and symbols were dismantled; those representing national heroes, however, remained standing, becoming objects of new politics of memory. Furthermore, new personalities and symbols joined existing monuments as key individuals for post-communist national memory were commemorated: anticommunist fighters, members of the Romanian royal family, or interwar politicians. The accession to the European Union was also inscribed in Romania’s memorialization practices, as monuments dedicated to leading European figures have been erected.

Lyric poetry as a tool to unify language and politics points of view. We propose to examine how lyric poetry was used as a politic tool by French kings of the Renaissance period (1515–1589). In France, the building of a specific identity starts with François I Ordonnance de Villers-Cotterêts (1539): all official documents previously in Latin, had now to be in French. The second act was Defence et Illustration de la langue française published by Joachim du Bellay in 1549 ruling on the use of vernacular language in lyrical poetry. Both events gave impetus to the unification of the language, not only in official documents but also in everyday life. As each province had its own idioms, the proposal was ambitious. We focus on Ronsard, the most representative poet of the catholic party during the civil wars of religion, which begin in 1562. In 1566 Ronsard begins his politic career with Les Hymnes, a long poem that celebrates on the catholic dynasty of the Valois family. Agrippa d’Aubigné, as a protestant poet, appreciate the poem enough to recommend it to everybody – lyric poetry rising above religious opinion. After the death of Henri II, Ronsard became a sort of diarist of Catherine de Medici’s politics, as expressed in his Discours des misères de ce temps 1562 and Continuation du discours des misères de ce temps. These texts, which justify the catholic positions of the queen, were published in 10-page booklets to be accessible to the population. The protestants poet including Chandieu, gave a violent answer to these one sided catholic texts. For all the Calvinist, mass is a disgusting ‘théophagie’. During her regency, Catherine de Medici organised a two-year (1562– 1564) visit around the kingdom with her son, Charles IX, in order for people to meet their king. This would be today a sort of ‘enterprise of communication’. It was never done before. Ronsard was required, as a spokesman, to follow the huge royal caravan, contributing to the development of words and new forms of lyric poetry. He wrote various entertainments according to the occasion or place of performance, later collected in Elegies, Mascarades et Bergeries, published by Buon in 1566. After the court returned to Fontainebleau and Paris, Ronsard continued La Franciade, a text he began in 1549. He was also required to manage the reception of Polish ambassadors who came to Tuileries and Fontainebleau to fetch the duke of Alençon (the future king Henri III of France) as new elected polish king. The official artist Antoine Caron has left paintings and drawings of these entertainments. Ronsard’s politic works in connection with the poets of the period change not only the language but also the way of thinking as it was the first step to centralism, which was the aims of the French kings. The same phenomenon took place in the nineteenth century, after the French Revolution in 1789, when poets were needed to bring the people together during a period of inspiration that drew them away from violence. They built a new image of the Renaissance, mixing history and imagination. In 1851, Les Châtiments, in which the poem titled “Le manteau Imperial” (1853) is one of the most ferocious, Victor Hugo protested against “le coup d’état” of Napoléon III. This text denied that Napoleon III was the fair successor of Napoleon I. To place France in context in the history of humanity, Hugo published La Légende des siècles (1859), a long text in alexandrine form which recalled the theme of Franciade: both texts aim to enshrine the history of the French kingdom. In Estonia, when Estonians needed to assert the history of their origins, the same phenomenon took place in 1857 with Kreutzwald’s Kalevipoeg. Lyric poetry is used in tension periods to claim a strong, original and uniform voice in the face of difficulties. In France, in the sixteenth century, lyric poetry was at the origin of a new way of life.

L’Olympisme représente des enjeux de pouvoir qui se sont accrus au cours du temps avec l’élargissement du nombre d’États et des disciplines sportives qui y participent, et du fait de son immense succès médiatique depuis la retransmission des Jeux à la télévision. C’est donc avec cet angle-là qu’Hérodote a construit ce numéro. Le sport est un acteur des relations internationales dès le début du xx e siècle, mis au service de la puissance et du prestige des États. Pour ce faire, Paris a choisi d’innover avec une cérémonie d’ouverture en plein air malgré les risques encourus. Les JO, du fait de leur aura médiatique, sont aussi un moyen efficace pour des États, des nations ou des entités de se faire connaître et d’améliorer leur image. Cependant, bien que le rôle du CIO se soit accru, il est loin d’avoir le poids nécessaire pour faire respecter la Pax olympica .

Czechoslovakia began to develop its ocean fleet after the communist coup d’état in 1948. Prague was designated as the place of registration for these ships. From a practical point of view, however, it was necessary for the Czechoslovak fleet to reach a port located as close as possible to the Czechoslovak border. Szczecin (located 298 km from the border) became the base for the fleet not only due to the political circumstances of the Cold War but also for economic reasons. While Hamburg remained a vital harbor for international trade where “East meets West,” Polish ports were used not only for loading and unloading goods and transporting them to the republic but also to supply ships, change crews, carry out most shipyard maintenance, etc. Consequently, Czechoslovak seafarers themselves called Szczecin their “home port.” Numerous aspects of this perception as “home” will be reflected on in this paper. Specifically, the paper will touch on perceptions of Poles (mainly seafarers and dock workers), some aspects of the relationships among Czechoslovaks and Poles, including a discussion of some important historical issues (1968, the 1980s) in this area. This paper is based on archival sources, oral history interviews with former seafarers, and published memoirs. It should contribute to broader research and understanding of relationships among people living in various parts of the socialist block and show different images of life under socialism(s).

Dès 1914, l’Allemagne semble maîtriser, sans commune mesure, les possibilités données par la photographie et elle en fait un outil de propagande internationale. En réaction, la France met en place au printemps 1915, la section photographique de l’armée (SPA) destinée à contrer l’action allemande auprès des pays neutres en alimentant les services du ministère des Affaires étrangères. Le ministère de la Guerre fournit des hommes, convoite les photographes et se charge de la censure sur les images. Le sous-secrétariat aux Beaux-Arts finance la totalité de l’opération voyant alors l’opportunité de constituer un fonds d’archives capable de témoigner devant l’histoire. Au-delà des changements de noms ou bien de la fusion avec la section cinématographique (1917), la SPA devient lentement et très officiellement un outil sous l’influence de plus en plus prégnante des Beaux-Arts. Pourtant, née de la Guerre, elle ne meurt pas avec elle et devient en 1921 le service photographique et cinématographique des Beaux-Arts chargé de conserver et d’exploiter les 120 000 clichés et les 2 000 films. Le 31 décembre 1921, ce service, en tant que service d’État, est supprimé et réorganisé en une Société des archives photographiques d’art et d’histoire toujours sous le contrôle de la Direction des Beaux-Arts. Appareil politique et artistique à diverses facettes, la SPA n’en est pas moins une organisation photographique vouée aux fonds d’archives qu’elle constitue.

Abstract Saborami (1973) is the first book published by Chilean poet-artist Cecilia Vicuña (b. 1947) and one of the first artistic denunciations of the violence of the September 11, 1973 military coup d’état in Chile. This understudied work of the Chilean neo avant-garde was first published in a bilingual Spanish-English edition with Beau Geste Press, one of the most influential independent presses for the publication, printing and duplicating of experimental art in the 1970s. This first artisanal edition of 250 copies was constructed from recycled paper and gathered several of the art projects Vicuña had been working on in the years prior to the coup, pairing them with poetic reflections on the politics of her art. Saborami is a dense, complex, multi-tonal work composed of –among other things– found objects, personal letters, ironic and non-ironic self-portraits of the artist in suggestive positions, mimeographed images of various types, duplications of the author’s earlier paintings, and a collection of erotic poems that were slated to be published during the last years of the Allende regime but were apparently censored for their explicit sexuality. Co-authors Lynd and Roncero-Bellido position this work at the crossroads between testimonio and vanguard art, then proceed to examine Vicuña’s aesthetically innovative contribution to the testimonial genre. Recent new editions of Saborami, the authors argue, demonstrate the need for a scholarly discourse that takes seriously the role of 1960s and 1970s experimental art as an important manifestation of oppositional discourses.

Reality Show a pour personnage principal Mickey Wagner, un producteur de téléréalité dont la dernière idée est de réaliser une émission en plaçant simplement sous surveillance permanente une famille américaine lambda, les Warwick. Censé provoquer de l’action à l’écran, le conflit est au cœur des problématiques abordées par une série qui en fait l’un de ses fils directeurs, et ce à deux niveaux. D’une part, faute de conflit dans l’émission de téléréalité de Wagner, elle s’arrêtera en cours de diffusion. D’autre part, Wagner se voit contraint d’injecter des doses progressives de conflit dans le quotidien sans histoire(s) des Warwick, ce qui révèle un problème esthétique derrière les évidentes questions éthiques que pose le procédé, puisqu’il fait se télescoper la réalité et la fiction. Reality Show fait ainsi s’entrechoquer deux aspects fondamentaux de la culture visuelle contemporaine : l’omniprésence d’images vidéo du monde dont le nombre n’a d’égal que leur banalité, et la propension accrue des individus à mettre en récit ces images.

In this article we demonstrate how we created a context in which digital story- telling was designed and implemented to teach multilingual middle school stu- dents in the summer program sponsored by a local nonprofit organization, the Latin American Association, in a city in the southeastern United States. While implementing the notion of multiliteracies (New London Group, 1996) in the Digital Storytelling classroom, we designed tasks and activities that were aligned with the four components of a multiliteracies pedagogy (i.e., situated practice, overt instruction, critical framing, and transformative practice) in order to engage the students in exploring their multiple literacies and identities by using multiple semiotic modes and resources (e.g., texts, images, and sounds). Our digital sto- rytelling lessons show that multiliteracies practices can be a powerful venue for second-language learners and teachers. We further discuss how multiliteracies practices like digital storytelling can be adapted to other educational contexts.Dans cet article, nous expliquons la conception et la mise en œuvre d’une nar- ration numérique pour enseigner à des élèves plurilingues à l’élémentaire dans le cadre d’un programme d’été parrainé par un organisme local à but non-lu- cratif, la Latin American Association, dans une ville du sud-est des États-Unis. Pendant la mise en œuvre de la notion de littératies multiples (New London Group, 1996), nous avons conçu des tâches et des activités conformes aux quatre composantes d’une pédagogie axée sur les littératies multiples (c.-à-d., une pra- tique localisée, une pédagogie ouverte, un encadrement critique et une pratique transformative) de sorte à engager les élèves dans l’exploration de leurs littératies et leurs identités multiples par l’emploi d’une diversité de modes sémiotiques et de ressources (par ex. textes, images, sons). Nos leçons basées sur la narration numérique démontrent que les pratiques axées sur les littératies multiples peu- vent constituer de puissants outils pour les apprenants et les enseignants en langue seconde. Nous terminons par une discussion des possibilités d’adapter les pratiques axées sur les littératies multiples, comme la narration numérique, à d’autres contextes pédagogiques.

Resumo: Este texto compartilha experiências pedagógicas desenvolvidas em turmas de Ensino Médio, nas aulas de Geografia, a partir da temática relacionada à ditadura midiática-civil-militar no Brasil. Fazendo alusão aos cinquenta anos do golpe militar, em 1964, elaborou-se um conjunto de sequências didáticas associando a globalização ao período dos “anos de chumbo”. Nossa construção didática esteve amparada na sociologia crítica da mídia de Edgar Morin, Juremir Machado da Silva e Pedrinho Guareschi. Desse modo, as atividades privilegiaram a interpretação da influência da grande mídia no apoio ao golpe e na estabilidade política da ditadura. Foram empregados recursos didáticos diversificados, como a análise de reportagens históricas, a compreensão de programas audiovisuais da época e o trabalho com imagens. Durante as aulas, destacamos a inseparabilidade entre os conceitos de espaço e tempo no ensino de Geografia. Com efeito, ao compreenderem a contemporaneidade sociopolítica brasileira como corolário de uma historicidade, os sujeitos envolvidos nos processos de ensino e aprendizagem podem operar qualitativamente na sociedade da informação, instituindo um olhar crítico sobre os meios de comunicação; logo, formando uma teia própria de conhecimento. Palavras-chave: Ensino de Geografia. Ditadura na escola. Crítica da mídia. Aprendizagem. HOW CAN WE QUESTION DICTATORSHIP IN GEOGRAPHY CLASSES Abstract: This paper aims at sharing pedagogical practices developed in high school Geography classes. Their main subject was media-civil-military dictatorship in Brazil. The fiftieth anniversary of 1964 Brazilian military coup d’état motivated the production of a set of educational activities which associate globalization with the so called “anos de chumbo” (plumb years). Our theoretical framework relies on the works of media critical sociology of Edgar Morin, Juremir Machado da Silva and Pedrinho Guareschi. Thereby, the activities focused on interpretation of great media and communication's role on supporting the coup d’état and dictatorship maintenance. Diverse educational resources were employed, varying from historical materials analysis, image observation and audiovisual programs discussion from that political period. In class, we tried to stress the necessity of connecting geographical concepts of time and space. From that, we would argue that students who understand Brazilian social-political contemporary elements as a historical process are able to look critically at the information society media; therefore spinning their own knowledge web. Keywords: Teaching Geography. Dictatorship in school. Media criticism. Learning.

International audience we could define the cinema of Yuri Norstein as characterized by the change of status in the forms and textures materializing on the screen the elements of the story. According to these transformations, the narration – understood in the classical sense – seems to split in its films: it then designates not only the sequence of actions that compose the story of the film, but also the history of the successive plastic alterations constitutingthe flesh of the image and building photogram after photogram what one could describe as scenario-matter (by distinction of the scenario-narration). Le cinéma de Youri Norstein se caractérise par le changement d’état des formes et des textures qui composent, en les matérialisant, les éléments du récit. Au gré de ces transformations, la narration, entendue au sens classique du terme, semble dans ses films se dédoubler : elle désigne alors non seulement le déroulé des actions qui composent le récit du film, mais aussi l’histoire des altérations plastiques successives qui constituent la chair de l’image et qui construisent, photogramme après photogramme, ce que l’on pourrait qualifier de scénario matière (par distinction du scénario récit). aнимационное кино Юрия Норштейна мы могли бы определить через характерное для него изменение статуса форм и фактур, в которыхматериализуются на экране элементы повествования. Согласно этим трансформациям, рассказ – понимаемый в классическом смысле слова – претерпевает расщепление: он не только означает череду действий, которые составляют повествовательную канву фильма, но также и историю последовательных пластических изменений, создающих плоть образа и складывающих одну за другой теневые картины-фотограмы; что можно было бы назвать сценарием-материей (в отличие от сценарием-повествованием).

Abstract This paper suggests a framework for studying how remedial actions are deployed following diplomatic crisis. On the basis of thirty-four case studies and twenty-one interviews with senior statespersons, we offer a novel typology of remedial strategies employed for diffusing interstate tension and pinpoint the various calculations taken by decision-makers in performing them. The analysis reveals three primary strategies for restoring diplomatic relations, the last of which was neglected thus far in the literature: reframing, wherein state actors negotiate the definition of transgressions and their responsibility for its occurrence; remorse, wherein the accused actors acknowledge ranging degrees of responsibility for committing wrongdoing; and finally, reassurance, wherein actors channel the remedial focus to the future relationship between the involved parties. Moreover, statespersons articulated several considerations taken into account when selecting a specific remedial strategy: the perceived value of the offended party, domestic political criticism, levels of publicity, adjusting a specific remedy to the target audience, and self-image. We conclude by discussing the value of remedial work for the study of diplomatic crises. Cet article suggère un cadre pour l’étude de la manière dont des actions correctives sont déployées suite à une crise diplomatique. Nous nous sommes basés sur trente-quatre études de cas et vingt-et-un entretiens avec des hauts responsables d’État pour proposer une nouvelle typologie des stratégies correctives employées pour atténuer la tension entre États et identifier les divers calculs effectués par les décideurs pour les exécuter. Cette analyse révèle trois principales stratégies de restauration des relations diplomatiques, et la dernière d'entre elles a jusqu'ici été négligée par la littérature: celle du recadrage, dans laquelle les acteurs étatiques négocient la définition des transgressions et leur responsabilité dans leur manifestation; celle du remords, dans laquelle les acteurs accusés admettent leurs divers degrés de responsabilité dans l'engagement dans une mauvaise conduite; et enfin, celle de la réassurance, dans laquelle les acteurs canalisent leur attention corrective sur la future relation entre les parties impliquées. De plus, les responsables d’État ont articulé plusieurs considérations prises en compte lors de la sélection d'une stratégie corrective spécifique: la valeur perçue de la partie offensée, la critique politique intérieure, les niveaux de publicité, l'adaptation d'une action corrective spécifique au public cible et l'image de soi. Nous concluons par une discussion sur la valeur du travail correctif pour l’étude des crises diplomatiques. Este artículo sugiere un marco para estudiar cómo se implementan las acciones correctivas tras una crisis diplomática. Sobre la base de treinta y cuatro estudios de casos y veintiuna entrevistas con altos cargos del estado, ofrecemos una novedosa tipología de las estrategias correctivas empleadas para rebajar las tensiones interestatales y señalamos los distintos cálculos realizados por los responsables al llevarlas a cabo. El análisis revela tres estrategias principales para el restablecimiento de las relaciones diplomáticas, esta última se no se había tenido en cuenta hasta ahora en la bibliografía: el replantamiento, en el que los actores estatales negocian la definición de las transgresiones y su responsabilidad; el remordimiento, en el que los actores acusados reconocen distintos grados de responsabilidad por cometer delitos; y, por último, la reafirmación, en la que los actores canalizan el enfoque correctivo hacia la futura relación entre las partes implicadas. Además, los cargos del estado expresaron varias consideraciones que se tienen en cuenta a la hora de seleccionar una estrategia correctiva específica: el valor percibido por la parte ofendida, la crítica política interna, los niveles de publicidad, el ajuste de las acciones correctivas específicas al público y la imagen propia. Concluimos con el análisis del valor del trabajo correctivo para el estudio de las crisis diplomáticas.

Cet article est un compte-rendu du livre : David Jurado, Résilience des images et des récits. Catastrophe et terrorisme d’État en Argentine, au Chili et au Mexique, Rennes, Presses universitaires de Rennes, coll. « Des Amériques », 2020, 264 p., EAN 9782753578906.

Les performances d’un procédé ultrasonore peuvent être rapidement dégradées lorsque le composant à inspecter présente un état de surface variable (vague de meulage, bourrelet de soudure). Si la surface irrégulière est connue, un procédé de contrôle basé sur la technologie multiéléments est en capacité de garantir le maintien des performances de détection et de caractérisation obtenues sur une surface régulière. Suite aux nombreux travaux déjà menés par le CEA pour traiter des variations de surface dans une seule direction (effet 2D) et dans le cadre de l’accord de partenariat R&D entre EDF et le CEA, le CEA a réalisé une étude sur la faisabilité d’un procédé ultrasonore multiéléments robotisé en immersion permettant de s’affranchir de variations d’état de surface dans les deux directions (effet 3D). Cette communication présente ce nouveau procédé fondé sur l’utilisation d’un traducteur à découpe matricielle de 256 éléments. A l’issue d’une première acquisition FMC, la surface 3D du composant est extraite des images TFM. Puis, à partir de cette surface reconstruite, des faisceaux ultrasonores focalisés cohérents sont calculés par le logiciel CIVA. Les lois de retard associées sont ensuite stockées puis appliquées en temps réel par l’électronique de contrôle lors d’une seconde acquisition. Pour réaliser l’ensemble de ces acquisitions robotisées, de nombreux développements logiciel (CIVA, Acquire) ont été réalisés en collaboration avec la société Eddyfi.

The research aims to explain Thailand’s value-based economy and its implications on wellness business. The research uses political and management theories namely, developmental state theory, neo-authoritarian developmental state theory, social network theory, social capital theory, diffusion of innovation theory, resource-based theory, and image theory to portray and applied into the case. Moreover, the research is a qualitative research by nature as it uses semi-structure interviews and focus groups to find the answers. The main finding of this research is that since 2002 where the Thai government has set “Medical and Wellness Tourism” as the country’s development strategy to make Thailand a “hub” for medical and wellness tourism—though the country’s politics has faced two coup d’états and the country’s administrations have been rough as it is controlled by different political groups—both, civilian and military, governments have followed the strategy and have highlighted medical and wellness business sector as one of their development strategies as well as policies. The conclusion of the research is that the military government has stepped forward from solely being authoritarian state and transform the country to become a neo-authoritarian developmental state where it practices capitalism while limits people participation in politics. On top of that, the state implements policies that benefit healthcare and wellness industry, especially SMEs, to assure that it achieves the goal of being a medical and wellness hub of the region.

The research aims to explain Thailand’s value-based economy and its implications on wellness business. The research uses political and management theories namely, developmental state theory, neo-authoritarian developmental state theory, social network theory, social capital theory, diffusion of innovation theory, resource-based theory, and image theory to portray and applied into the case. Moreover, the research is a qualitative research by nature as it uses semi-structure interviews and focus groups to find the answers. The main finding of this research is that since 2002 where the Thai government has set “Medical and Wellness Tourism” as the country’s development strategy to make Thailand a “hub” for medical and wellness tourism—though the country’s politics has faced two coup d’états and the country’s administrations have been rough as it is controlled by different political groups—both, civilian and military, governments have followed the strategy and have highlighted medical and wellness business sector as one of their development strategies as well as policies. The conclusion of the research is that the military government has stepped forward from solely being authoritarian state and transform the country to become a neo-authoritarian developmental state where it practices capitalism while limits people participation in politics. On top of that, the state implements policies that benefit healthcare and wellness industry, especially SMEs, to assure that it achieves the goal of being a medical and wellness hub of the region.

Fig 1: Image from a secret Rangoon fashion shoot. Photograph: Myanmar Photo Archive / Lukas Birk. Introduction NOTE: Rangoon, Burma has been known as Yangon, Myanmar, since 2006. I use Rangoon and Burma for the period prior to 2006 and Yangon and Myanmar for the period thereafter. In addition, I have removed the name of any activist currently in Myanmar due to the recent policy of executing political prisoners. On 1 February 2021, Myanmar was again plunged into political turmoil when the military illegally overthrew the country’s democratically elected government. This is the third time Myanmar, formally known as Burma, has been subject to a coup d’état; violent seizures of power took place in 1962 and in 1988-90. While those two earlier military governments met with opposition spearheaded by students and student organisations, in 2021 the military faced organised resistance through a mass Civil Disobedience Movement (CDM) initiated by government healthcare workers who refused to come to work. They were joined by private sector “strikes” and, perhaps most visible of all to western viewers, mass street demonstrations “led” by “Gen Z” activists—young people who had come of age during Myanmar’s brief decade of democracy. There is little doubt that the success of the CDM and associated protests is due to the widespread coverage and reach of social media as well as the creative communications skills of the country’s first “generation of digital natives”, who are sufficiently familiar and comfortable with social platforms to “participate and shape their identities in communication and dialogue with global digital media content” (Jordt et al. 12 ). The leveraging of global culture, including the use of English in protest signs, was notable in garnering international media coverage and so keeping Myanmar’s political plight front-of-mind with governments around the world. Yet this is not the whole story behind the effectiveness of these campaigns. As Lisa Brooten argues, contemporary networks are built on “decades of behind-the-scenes activism to build a multi-ethnic civil society” (East Asia Forum). The leading democracy activist, Min Ko Naing, aligned “veteran activists from previous generations with novice Gen Z activists”, declaring “this revolution represents a combination of Generations X, Y and Z in fighting against the military dictatorship’” (Jordt et al. 18). Similarly, the creative strategies used by 2021’s digital campaigners also build on protests by earlier generations of young, creative people. This paper looks at two creative protest across the generations. The first is “secret” fashion photography of the late 1970s collected in Lukas Birk’s Yangon Fashion 1979 – Fashion=Resistance. The second is the contemporary #100projectors campaign, a “projection project for Myanmar democracy movement against the military dictatorship” (in the interest of full disclosure, I took part in the #100projectors project). Drawing from the contemporary advertising principle of “segmentation”, the communications practice where potential consumers are divided into “subgroups … based on specific characteristics and needs” (WARC 1), as well as contemporary thinking on the “aesthetics” of “cosmopolitanism”, (Papastergiadis, Featherstone, and Christensen), I argue that contemporary creative strategies can be traced back to the creative tactics of resistance employed by earlier generations of protesters and their re-imagining of “national space and its politics” (Christensen 556) in the interstices of cosmopolitan Rangoon, Burma, and Yangon, Myanmar. #100projectors Myanmar experienced two distinct periods of military rule, the Socialist era between 1962 and 1988 under General Ne Win and the era under the State Law and Order Restoration Council – State Peace and Development Council between 1988 and 2011. These were followed by a semi-civilian era from 2011 to 2021 (Carlson 117). The coup in 2021 marks a return to extreme forms of control, censorship, and surveillance. Ne Win’s era of military rule saw a push for Burmanisation enforced through “significant cultural restrictions”, ostensibly to protect national culture and unity, but more likely to “limit opportunities for internal dissent” (Carlson 117). Cultural restrictions applied to art, literature, film, television, as well as dress. Despite these prohibitions, in the 1970s Rangoon's young people smuggled in illegal western fashion magazines, such as Cosmopolitan and Vogue, and commissioned local tailors to make up the clothes they saw there. Bell-bottoms, mini-skirts, western-style suits were worn in “secret” fashion shoots, with the models posing for portraits at Rangoon photographic studios such as the Sino-Burmese owned Har Si Yone in Chinatown. Some of the wealthier fashionistas even came for weekly shoots. Demand was so high, a second branch devoted to these photographic sessions was opened with its own stock of costumes and accessories. Copies of these head to toe fashion portraits, printed on 12 x 4 cm paper, were shared with friends and family; keeping portrait albums was a popular practice in Burma and had been since the 1920s and 30s (Birk, Burmese Photographers 113). The photos that survive this era are collected in Lukas Birk’s Yangon Fashion 1979 – Fashion=Resistance. #100projectors was launched in February 2021 by a group of young visual and video artists with the aim of resisting the coup and demanding the return of democracy. Initially a small group of projectionists or “projector fighters”, as the title suggests they plan to amplify their voices by growing their national and international network to 100. #100projectors is one of many campaigns, movements, and fundraisers devised by artists and creatives to protest the coup and advocate for revolution in Myanmar. Other notable examples, all run by Gen Z activists, include the Easter Egg, Watermelon, Flash, and Marching Shoes strikes. The Marching Shoe Strike, which featured images of flowers in shoes, representing those who had died in protests, achieved a reach of 65.2 million in country with 1.4 million interactions across digital channels (VERO, 64) and all of these campaigns were covered by the international press, including The Guardian, Reuters, The Straits Times, and VOA East Asia Pacific Session, as well as arts magazines around the world (for example Hyperallergic, published in Brooklyn). #100projectors material has been projected in Finland, Scotland, and Australia. The campaign was written about in various art magazines and their Video #7 was screened at the Bangkok Art and Culture Centre in February 2022 as part of Defiant Art: A Year of Resistance to the Myanmar Coup. At first glance, these two examples seem distant in both their aims and achievements. Fashion photos, taken in secret and shared privately, could be more accurately described as a grassroots social practice rather than a political movement. While Birk describes the act of taking these images as “a rebellion” and “an escape” in a political climate when “a pair of flowers and a pair of sunglasses might just start a revolution”, the fashionistas’ photographs seem “ephemeral” at best, or what Mina Roces describes as the subtlest form of resistance or ‘weapons of the weak’ (Scott in Roces 7). By contrast, #100projectors has all the hallmarks of a polished communications campaign. They have a logo and slogans: “We fight for light” and “The revolution must win”. There is a media plan, which includes the use of digital channels, encrypted messaging, live broadcasts, as well as in-situ projections. Finally, there is a carefully “targeted” audience of potential projectionists. It is this process of defining a target audience, based on segmentation, that is particularly astute and sophisticated. Traditionally, segmentation defined audiences based on demographics, geodemographics, and self-identification. However, in the online era segments are more likely to be based on behaviour and activities revealed in search data as well as shares, depending on preferences for privacy and permission. Put another way, as a digital subject, “you are what you choose to share” (WARC 1). The audience for #100projectors includes artists and creative people around the world who choose to share political video art. They are connected through digital platforms including Facebook as well as encrypted messaging. Yet this contemporary description of digital subjectivity, “you are what you choose to share”, also neatly describes the Yangon fashionistas and the ways in which they resist the political status quo. Photographic portraits have always been popular in Burma and so this collection does not look especially radical. Initially, the portraits seem to speak only about status, taste, and modernity. Several subjects within the collection are shown in national or ethnic dress, in keeping with the governments edict that Burma consisted of 135 ethnicities and 8 official races. In addition, there is a portrait of a soldier in full uniform. But the majority of the images are of men and women in “modern” western gear typical of the 1970s. With their wide smiles and careful poses, these men and women look like they’re performing sophisticated worldliness as well as showing off their wealth. They are cosmopolitan adepts taking part in international culture. Status is implicit in the accessories, from sunglasses to jewellery. One portrait is shot at mid-range so that it clearly features a landline phone. In 1970s Burma, this was an object out of reach for most. Landlines were both prohibitively expensive and reserved for the true elites. To make a phone call, most people had to line up at special market stalls. To be photographed with a phone, in western clothes (to be photographed at all), seems more about aspiration than anarchy. In the context of Ne Win’s Burma, however, the portraits clearly capture a form of political agency. Burma had strict edicts for dress and comportment: kissing in public was banned and Burmese citizens were obliged to wear Burmese dress, with western styles considered degenerate. Long hair, despite being what Burmese men traditionally wore prior to colonisation, was also deemed too western and consequently “outlawed” (Edwards 133). Dress was not only proscribed but hierarchised and heavily gendered; only military men had “the right to wear trousers” (Edwards 133). Public disrespect of the all-powerful, paranoid, and vindictive military (known as “sit tat” for military or army versus “Tatmadaw” for the good Myanmar army) was dangerous bordering on the suicidal. Consequently, wearing shoulder-length hair, wide bell bottoms, western-style suits, and “risqué” mini-skirts could all be considered acts of at least daring and definitely defiance. Not only are these photographs a challenge to gender constructions in a country ruled by a hyper-masculine army, but these images also question the nature of what it meant to be Burmese at a time when Burmeseness itself was rigidly codified. Recording such acts on film and then sharing the images entailed further risk. Thus, these models are, as Mina Roces puts it, “express[ing] their agency through sartorial change” (Roces 5). Fig. 2: Image from a secret Rangoon fashion shoot – illicit dress and hair. Photograph: Myanmar Photo Archive / Lukas Birk. Fig. 3: Image from a secret Rangoon fashion shoot. Photograph: Myanmar Photo Archive / Lukas Birk. Roces also notes the “challenge” of making protest visible in spaces “severely limited” under authoritarian regimes (Roces 10). Burma under the Socialist government was a particularly difficult place in which to mount any form of resistance. Consequences included imprisonment or even execution, as in the case of the student leader Tin Maung Oo. Ma Thida, a writer and human rights advocate herself jailed for her work, explains the use of creative tools such as metaphor in a famous story about a crab by the writer and journalist Hanthawaddy U Win Tin: The crab, being hard-shelled, was well protected and could not be harmed. However, the mosquito, despite being a far smaller animal, could bite the eyes of the crab, leading to the crab’s eventual death. ... Readers drew the conclusion that the socialist government of Ne Win was the crab that could be destabilized if a weakness could be found. (Thida 317) If the metaphor of a crab defeated by a mosquito held political meaning, then being photographed in prohibited fashions was a more overt way of making defiance and resistant “visible”. While that visibility seems ephemeral, the fashionistas also found a way not only to be seen by the camera in their rebellious clothing, but also by a “public” or audience of those with whom they shared their images. The act of exchanging portraits, what Birk describes as “old-school Instagram”, anticipates not only the shared selfie, but also the basis of successful contemporary social campaigns, which relied in part on networks sharing posts to amplify their message (Birk, Yangon Fashion 17). What the fashionistas also demonstrate is that an act of rebellion can also be a means of testing the limits of conformity, of the need for beauty, of the human desire to look beautiful. Acts of rebellion are also acts of celebration and so, solidarity. Fig. 4: Image from a secret Rangoon fashion shoot – illicit dress length. Photograph: Myanmar Photo Archive / Lukas Birk. Fig. 5: Image from a secret Rangoon fashion shoot – illicit trousers. Photograph: Myanmar Photo Archive / Lukas Birk. As the art critic and cultural theorist Nikos Papastergiadis writes, “the cosmopolitan imagination in contemporary art could be defined as an aesthetic of openness that engenders a global sense of inter-connectedness” (207). Inter-connectedness and its possibilities and limits shape the aesthetic imaginary of both the secret fashion shoots of 1970s Rangoon and the artists and videographers of 2021. In the videos of the #100projectors project and the fashion portraits of stylish Rangoonites, interconnection comes as a form of aesthetic blending, a conversation that transcends the border. The sitter posing in illicit western clothes in a photo studio in the heart of Rangoon, then Burma’s capital and seat of power, cannot help but point out that borders are permeable, and that national identity is temporally-based, transitory, and full of slippages. In this spot, 40-odd years earlier, Burmese nationalists used dress as a means of publicly supporting the nationalist cause (Edwards, Roces). Like the portraits, the #100projector videos blend global and local perspectives on Myanmar. Combining paintings, drawings, graphics, performance art recordings, as well as photography, the work shares the ‘instagrammable’ quality of the Easter Egg, Watermelon, and Marching Shoes strikes with their bright colours and focus on people—or the conspicuous lack of people and the example of the Silent Strike. Graphics are in Burmese as well as English. Video #6 was linked to International Women’s Day. Other graphics reference American artists such as Shepherd Fairey and his Hope poster, which was adapted to feature Aung San Suu Kyi’s face during then-President Obama’s visit in 2012. The videos also include direct messages related to political entities such as Video #3, which voiced support for the Committee Representing Pyidaungsu Hlutaw (CRPH), a group of 15 elected MPs who represented the ideals of Gen Z youth (Jordt et al., viii). This would not necessarily be understood by an international viewer. Also of note is the prevalence of the colour red, associated with Aung San Suu Kyi’s NLD. Red is one of the three “political” colours formerly banned from paintings under SLORC. The other two were white, associated with the flowers Aung Sang Suu Kyi wore in her hair, and black, symbolic of negative feelings towards the regime (Carlson, 145). The Burmese master Aung Myint chose to paint exclusively in the banned colours as an ongoing act of defiance, and these videos reflect that history. The videos and portraits may propose that culturally, the world is interconnected. But implicit in this position is also the failure of “interconnectedness”. The question that arises with every viewing of a video or Instagram post or Facebook plea or groovy portrait is: what can these protesters, despite the risks they are prepared to take, realistically expect from the rest of the world in terms of help to remove the unwanted military government? Interconnected or not, political misfortune is the most effective form of national border. Perhaps the most powerful imaginative association with both the #100projectors video projections and fashionistas portraits is the promise of transformation, in particular the transformations possible in a city like Rangoon / Yangon. In his discussion of the cosmopolitan space of the city, Christensen notes that although “digital transformations touch vast swathes of political, economic and everyday life”, it is the city that retains supreme significance as a space not easily reducible to an entity beneath the national, regional, or global (556). The city is dynamic, “governed by the structural forces of politics and economy as well as moralities and solidarities of both conservative and liberal sorts”, where “othered voices and imaginaries find presence” in a mix that leads to “contestations” (556). Both the fashionistas and the video artists of the #100projectors use their creative work to contest the ‘national’ space from the interstices of the city. In the studio these transformations of the bodies of Burmese subjects into international “citizens of the world” contest Ne Win’s Burma and reimagine the idea of nation. They take place in the Chinatown, a relic of the old, colonial Rangoon, a plural city and one of the world’s largest migrant ports, where "mobility, foreignness and cross-cultural hybridity" were essential to its make-up (Aung Thin 778). In their instructions on how to project their ideas as a form of public art to gain audience, the #100projectors artists suggest projectors get “full on creative with other ways: projecting on people, outdoor cinema, gallery projection” (#100projectors). It is this idea projection as an overlay, a doubling of the everyday that evokes the possibility of transformation. The #100projector videos screen on Rangoon bridges, reconfiguring the city, albeit temporarily. Meanwhile, Rangoon is doubled onto other cities, towns, villages, communities, projected onto screens but also walls, fences, the sides of buildings in Finland, Scotland, Australia, and elsewhere. Conclusion In this article I have compared the recent #100projectors creative campaign of resistance against the 2021 coup d’état in Myanmar with the “fashionistas” of 1970 and their “secret” photo shoots. While the #100projectors is a contemporary digital campaign, some of the creative tactics employed, such as dissemination and identifying audiences, can be traced back to the practices of Rangoon’s fashionistas of the 1970s. ­­Creative resistance begins with an act of imagination. The creative strategies of resistance examined here share certain imaginative qualities of connection, a privileging of the ‘cosmopolitan’ and ‘interconnectedness’ as well as the transformativity of actual space, with the streets of Rangoon, itself a cosmopolitan city. References @100projectors Instagram account. <https://www.instagram.com/100projectors/>. @Artphy_1 Instagram account. <https://www.instagram.com/artphy_1/>. 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La réflectance est la mesure de la capacité d’une surface à réfléchir l’énergie incidente. La notion de réflectance bidirectionnelle dépend des longueurs d’ondes employées, de la nature et de la géométrie des surfaces de réflexion, des angles d’éclairement et de visée du capteur. Le coefficient est un paramètre important dans le calcul du bilan d’échange global d'énergie à l’interface solatmosphère, il est égal au rapport entre le rayonnement solaire réfléchi dans la direction d’observation et le rayonnement incident. La réflectance de surface dépend de l’heure et de la saison, elle diminue avec l’augmentation de la hauteur angulaire du soleil. Dans ce travail, nous avons utilisé un modèle analytique à bande large et les images numériques du canal visible VISSR de Météosat pour l’estimation de Le site test est la région de Tamanrasset, où nous avons une station de mesures radiométriques et 7 images par jour pleine résolution qui couvrent toute l’Algérie pour la période de janvier jusqu’à décembre 1999. Les résultats d’observations et les calculs se concordent. Nous avons trouvé queaugmente avec l’angle solaire zénithal. Pour les mois d’été, est faible par rapport aux mois d’hiver.

Les odeurs sont des déclencheurs d’états émotionnels bien contrastés, spontanément interprétés selon la bipolarité hédonique « agréable-désagréable ». Le constat de la bipolarité affective des odeurs, validé par les spécialistes actuels de la cognition, semble se vérifier dans les arts figurés dès l’époque moderne : ce sont soit les parfums, soit les relents qui sont exploités par les artistes. Tandis que le déplaisir olfactif est exprimé à grand bruit dans les registres comiques ou satiriques, le thème allégorique de l’odorat, tel qu’il se développe dans la France et l’Angleterre de la fin du 17e et du 18e siècle, ne donne pas lieu à la représentation d’expressions émotionnelles très marquées. Pourtant, cette apparente neutralité ne peut ou ne veut pas forcément signifier une absence d’émotion. Par conséquent, cet article vise à mettre en lumière les affects se cachant derrière cette apparente indifférence aux émotions induites par les odeurs ; et ce dans une période où artistes et théoriciens de l’art sont pourtant préoccupés par la traduction en images des mouvements de l’âme et des passions. Au 18e siècle, deux types d’allégories picturales de l’odorat ont été principalement exploitées : les scènes galantes valorisant le partage de l’expérience sensorielle et les portraits allégoriques, moments intimes dans lesquels la sensation est intériorisée. Au sein de ce corpus nous envisagerons les liens entre l’olfaction et la figuration du sentiment amoureux, de la séduction au désir, pour mieux comprendre ensuite la représentation picturale des états introspectifs déclenchés par l’inhalation d’une odeur. Au terme de cette enquête, nous verrons que les arômes plaisants qui se dégagent des œuvres rassemblées pour cette étude, ne sont ni anecdotiques ni ornementaux, et suggèrent des émotions plus fortes qu’elles ne paraissent à première vue.

Cosigné par Annie Ernaux et Marc Marie, L’Usage de la photo, publié en 2005, fait se croiser deux préoccupations qui semblent constituer des piliers de l’imaginaire ernausien : le corps, centre névralgique du récit depuis Les Armoires vides, qui impose au sujet ses contraintes et ses règles du jeu, de même que l’importance d’images photographiques pour la mémoire individuelle et sociale. L’expérience d’un corps singulier, voire singularisé par la maladie, est mise à l’épreuve dans L’Usage de la photo. Omniprésent dans les textes, le corps constitue l’élément absent des photographies qui rythment cette œuvre issue d’une démarche collaborative. L’ouvrage se présente au lecteur comme une série de moments épiphaniques composés d’images photographiques en noir et blanc et de parties textuelles, qui retracent la relation de couple marquée par le cancer du sein de la narratrice. Ce qui, à première vue, se donne à lire comme une succession d’ébats amoureux et sexuels entre A. et M. se révèle être une réflexion sur le pouvoir recréatif de l’écriture. L’image sert d’interface projective à partir de laquelle naissent les récits spéculaires des deux narrateurs-protagonistes, les deux entités formant des diptyques. L’analyse de L’Usage de la photo s’attardera sur l’idée d’un projet d’écriture double qui place au cœur de cette œuvre photofictionnelle l’investigation sur le corps tour à tour malade, désirant, source de (ré)jouissance et, phénomène inquiétant, systématiquement absent de toutes les images. Sera également étudié l’impact de la maladie sur la relation de couple auquel la photographie sert de révélateur et qui refuse de consigner le corps à l’intérieur du cadre de la souffrance et de la mélancolie.

Walk, walk, fashion babyWork it, move that b***h crazy — Lady Gaga, “Bad Romance” There's a brand new dance but I don't know its nameThat people from bad homes do again and againIt's big and it's bland, full of tension and fearThey do it over there but we don't do it hereFashion! Turn to the leftFashion! Turn to the right — David Bowie, “Fashion” Piece by pieceMy emotions are glued togetherYou’re a new patternSent towards one another: We have a secretive and thrilling motionOoh ooh ooh, you are my fashion — TaeYeon, “Fashion” The word ‘fashion’ conjures images of glitzy 90s supermodels stomping down a catwalk, a flock of Victoria Secret Angels flying in formation, or a crew of K-pop girl and boy bands sporting the latest looks and setting trends in hair, makeup, and fitness. In an age of Instafame and TikTok influencers, it is easy to view ‘fashion’ purely as something trivial or fleeting. We might talk of the latest fashions, or the ‘centuries old’ traditions of regional and folk garments. Fashion can mean the manner in which something is done or a fashionable way of thinking. It can also be used to discuss how things are created or fabricated, from heavy metals used in technology to lightweight garment fabrics and trims. Much of fashion studies focusses on Europe and North America, with the Fédération Française de la Couture (French Federation of Fashion and of Ready-to-Wear Couturiers and Fashion Designers) still holding sway over haute couture houses. If East Asian and South East Asian fashion is mentioned, it is usually in terms of textiles and manufacturing rather than couture or innovation. However, Japanese designer Hanae Mori (1026-2022) was the first Asian woman to be admitted as a design house to the Fédération in 1951. Mori notably had the patronage of Empress Masako, Hillary Clinton, Nancy Reagan and Grace Kelly. More recently, Chinese designer Guo Pei (b. 1967) was the first Asian designer to be invited as a guest member of the Chambre Syndicale de la Haute Couture (Trade Association of High Fashion) as part of the Fédération. We started this editorial with lyrics to pop and K-pop songs that reference fashion, but anyone familiar with Guo Pei will be aware of her rise in the popular zeitgeist when Bajan singer Rhianna attended the 2015 Met Gala in a 2008 yellow fur gown that weighed 25 kilos. However, fashion is also a place of protest and resistance. We need only look at the current protests in Iran which have seen women burn their hijabs in public after 22-year-old Mahsa Amini was arrested in September for allegedly breaking the country’s dress code, and mysteriously died in custody. At the time of writing, at least 83 people, including children, have been killed in the protests which are, above all, about a woman’s right to control her body and her clothing choices. The theme for this issue is drawn from the 2021 “Fashioning Gender in Asia” Women in Asia conference, convened by the Asian Studies Association of Australia (ASAA) Women’s Forum by Dr Emerald L. King, Dr Wendy Mee, Associate Professor Kerstin Steiner, and Associate Professor Sallie Yea. With much of the world’s textile and clothing production located in Asia, the theme for this issue lends itself to a wide interpretation of ‘fashion’ such as the slow fashion movement, garment construction, haute couture, cosplay and ‘bounding’, and gender expression through clothing. In this issue, we consider how bodies are fashioned and re-fashioned through social pressure, protest, resistance, and illness. We also consider how fashion and fashioning the body across time and space have become contested symbols not only of persona, gender, or sexualised bodies, but also of national identity or of how the nation is embodied through fashion. We begin with a feature article by Monika Winarnita, Sharyn Graham Davies, and Nicholas Herriman which looks at how Indonesian policewomen’s bodies are clothed and controlled in their role as border control and symbol of the nation. This article was based on a plenary talk by Sharyn Graham Davies for the 2021 Women in Asia Conference described above. Kathryn M. Tanaka discusses the importance of maintaining individual identity through dress and makeup in the face of institutionalisation and loss of self after a diagnosis of Hansen’s disease in turn-of-the-century Japan. Michelle Aung Thin reveals how secret fashion shoots in 70s Myanmar were an act of resistance and rebellion that is mirrored by current-day campaigners during the 2021 coup d’état. Carmen Sapunaru Tamas draws back the curtain on the glamourous world of Taisu Engeki in Japan, positing that this relatively unknown form of performance is just as valid as its more respected cousins kabuki, noh, and drag. In stark contrast, Robyn Gulliver discusses how ordinary tote bags and t-shirts have become a space of everyday protest in Australasia. Arnoud Arps looks at the performance of memory by Indonesian re-enactor groups who create modern-day interpretations of key moments during the turbulent and violent war for independence between 1943 and 1949. Megan Catherine Rose, Haruka Kurebayashi, and Rei Saionji return to Japan, where they investigate the affective potential of the ensembles created by Harajuku and decora street style practitioners. Moving from the streets of Japan to China, Amber Patterson-Ooi and Natalie Araujo look at how designers such as Guo Pei can use haute couture to interrogate and explore specific cultural imaginaries as well as the nature of gender and the socio-political climate in contemporary China. We close with an excerpt from Denise N. Rall’s 2022 edited collection, Fashion, Women, and Power: The Politics of Dress, which traverses the globe in its critique of power dressing and gender.