Virtual Scholars

An imagined form of scholarship…

Archive for July 16, 2008

V is for Vogue

A letter arrived just the other day – written in red, an addition to the alphabet, in this case an alternative for the letter ‘v’ (see the Letters in Red). Its intimate meaning exists no doubt only between its sender and receiver, but for the general reader there is a delicate lesson in, or revision of, the semiotics of shopping (though like the best kind of lesson it occurs by a creative accident).

What do we see? A stylish, though traditional basket by a window (of solid, old fashioned quality and in good decoration). The contents are of two red peppers, a bunch of tomatoes and appearing from under them, the latest addition of Vogue magazine (its lettering echoing in red, with the words ‘HERO PIECES’ and ‘The allure … soft’ just discernable). The vegetables, like the magazine, appear to have been collected ‘just now’ from the marketplace. They jostle freely in the basket. They conjure an image of freshness and cosmopolitan living. But there is also a certain patience or is it perhaps knowingness? These items, which speak of a readiness to be touched, are held within this high-sided basket and given an exact light for their picture. What could this mean?

 

The image is in many respects a worthy update on that well known advertisement for Panazni that Roland Barthes wrote about in the early 1970s, and which is still rolled out to this day when teaching aspects of semiotics. The ‘idea’ we have in this scene is, as Barthes writes, ‘a return from the market’ – just as I have suggested for the first picture. This is what Barthes further explains:

…the idea … we have in the scene represented is a return from the market. A signified which itself implies two euphoric values: that of the freshness of the products and that of the essentially domestic preparation for which they are destined. Its signifier is the half-open bag which lets the provisions spill out over the table, ‘unpacked’. To read this first sign requires only a knowledge which is in some sort implanted as part of the habits of a very widespread culture where ‘shopping around for oneself’ is opposed to the hasty stocking up (preserves, refrigerators) of a more ‘mechanical’ civilization.

However, if we take the ‘mechanical’ to also include Warhol’s images of consumer items, we can perhaps come back to the first image and begin to see the greater relevance of the copy of Vogue magazine (which I must stress was not purposely placed for this analytical reason, it was, I have on good authority, genuinely purchased – as a basic need – along with the vegetables). Today’s basket not only finds its way into marketing media (to become an advertised object of desire), but it also contains media forms and not just as a supplementary item, but as an equivalent to the basic food stuffs surrounding it. We don’t need the signifier of the half-open bag to alert us to euphoric values, nor are we necessarily unaware of the ideology of ‘shopping around for oneself’ – instead we are ourselves capable of constructing (and deconstructing) euphoric values; not just to shop for ourselves, but also to communicate, to share with others. As the systems theorist, Niklas Luhmann, suggests, society can be treated as ‘a social system that consists solely of communications and therefore as a system that can only reproduce communications by means of communications’. We deny a great deal if we attend only to the view that it is Mass Media which makes society meaningful. A monolithic view that is – if only in a humble fashion - dispelled by this simple example of a basket with vegetables and Vogue; a worthy, flirtatious addition to the those letters in red.

Muzak Convenience – A footnote to ‘Supermarkets’

The fabled creator of the Letters in Red, our very own modern day answer to Monsieur Bouvard, has entrusted to me various folios of his unfinished writings. One piece, which we often talked about, was ‘Supermarkets’. As I wandered into Family Mart this morning, one of the many 24/7 convenience stores dotted about Tokyo, I had a wave of nostalgia for our various considerations of super spaces. Whilst the store I entered was but a slither of the size of the stores he would frequent, it serves I hope as a footnote, as a little way back into the subject.

I was just going in to pick up a few things for lunch. And whilst I would be alone for my lunch that day, it was R.’s sense of a lost time and space that I was really thinking about…

at that time, going to the supermarket on friday or saturday nights was his main hobby.  alas, so many hours he spent slowly walking aisles, studying the prices of each item he might one day need […] having no commitments in general, he could have also gone shopping on sundays or any other day during the week and as many times as he liked, but in any case he did not need anything, his accommodation was fully catered. 

Again the brand of an unravelled flâneury that has made such a mark on our collaboration comes through in this writing about the supermarket:

…it was pleasing to think himself comparable to those parisian gentlemen.  however, unlike his famous 19th century colleagues (if colleagues is an adequate term) there was no novelty for him in the aisles as there was for the frenchmen in the arcades, no exotic goods were displayed (he had grown in a global time, bored with the international sameness of it all) … but beyond the disparity of the context, what probably marks the difference between him and the gentlemen were their motives [ …] his action was not a self-imposed one, he was not playing the idle, even his detachment from the crowd was not chosen.   if there was something that could have related him to the flâneur, it was his ability to fantasise out of the ordinary: whilst walking in front of vegetables and meats, he would imagine ever new recipes and revolutionary cooking methods, he would also imagine he had someone to cook for.  when he saw families and friends shopping together for the week or for a meal, he would imagine himself part of the group, and when the cashier asked him are you ok today? he imagined she really cared.

In Japan, of course, it is hard to detect any ‘bad faith’ as shop assistants usher you in with the distinctive call of irasshaimase and smile so sweetly when carefully wrapping even the most trivial of items you have purchased. But, of course, the same mechanics is in operation all over, in this ‘global time’. A time summed up by the phenomenon of muzak (noun [mass noun] trademark recorded light background music played through speakers in public places), the existence of which is seemingly ever more prevalent in Japan. What I really wanted as I entered Family Mart this morning was the opportunity to discuss this muzak. It has been on my mind for sometime since I have been here. I have a vision of R. and I wandering far and wide with various recording equipment, capturing the mixed aural economy of Tokyo and no doubt never actually getting round to do anything with these neatly captured sonics.