Provocation 3: Inefficient Mapping
Isabelle Stengers describes cosmopolitics as the intention “to slow down the construction of this common world, to create a space for hesitation regarding what it means to say ‘good’ ...[Cosmopolitics] does not lead to answers everyone should finally accept” (2005, pp. 995-996).
How are you being-in the pandemic?
How is your being-in the pandemic a particular situation and situating?
And how does that particularity of situation/situating create a cosmopolitics of a pandemic that is complex and different for everyone?
This provocation asks you to watch this video, and then to inefficiently map your situation and situating of being-in the pandemic. The collection will offer a cartography of the pandemic through its disruptions and continual challenges.
Stengers, I. (2005) The cosmopolitical proposal. In B. Latour & P. Weibel (Eds.), Making Things Public: Atmospheres of Democracy. Cambridge, Mass: MIT Press.
Linda Knight is an artist and academic who specialises in critical and speculative arts practices and methods. Linda devised ‘Inefficient Mapping’ as a methodological protocol for conducting fieldwork in projects informed by ‘post-‘ theories. In her role as Associate Professor at RMIT University, Australia Linda creates transdisciplinary projects across early childhood, creative practice, and digital media. Together with Jacina Leong, Linda is a founding member of the Guerrilla Knowledge Unit, an artist collective that curates interface jamming performances between the public and AI technologies.
Linda has exhibited digitally and physically in Australia, UK, USA, Canada, NZ, and South America and has been awarded arts research grants and prizes with international reach and impact, most recently this includes an Australian Research Council Discovery project that designs novel technologies for framing and enabling young children’s active play.
Eye of The Storm: an Observation of Movement from Isolation
I chose to base my project off the work of Linda Knight,and create inefficient maps of the places I’ve spent a significant amount of time in over the course of the pandemic. After finishing the sporadic sketches and observing the lot of them layered over each other, I noticed that even in crisis, with social distancing and the litany of other COVID restrictions, there is still an incredible amount of movement and interaction in the spaces around us. When I was outside (distanced by myself of course) or at home with my family, activity was more obvious. I marked any person I saw where I saw them, and even drew out sounds from people whether it be talking or footsteps along the ground. However even when I was by myself in either of the bedrooms I’ve been switching between since August, there was so much to take in that I’d never thought to acknowledge before. I found myself visualizing and drawing the relationships between light and shadow, drawing the glow of my computer, and even the sounds I heard from my various appliances or from right outside the door.
The pandemic has affected me and my living situationin many different ways over thepast year. I’ve had to move three times from one hometo another, and now my home is asacred place that I take sanctuary in. I’ve becomeaccustomed to being at home nearly all thetime and I try to make the best of it. Using a charcoalpencil, I decided to map out my smallapartment, as I go through each room: coming throughthe front door, going into the kitchen,visiting the restroom, and finally settling into mybedroom. This represents how far I’ve come toget here and how special it is to have a place tocall my own. I made three maps, changing upthe steps as they happen in my daily routine, andI will layer them over each other.
I knew almost as soon as I saw it that I wanted to respond to this provocation, but I did a littlemore research just to be sure.I went to Linda Kight’s website to find more informationand then looked further into google. Ifound a video where she explains her process and themeaning behind the inefficient mapshowcased on the pluralversity website.From that video I got a pretty good idea of how togo about creating an inefficient map.Then I pulled out a pen and some paper, closed myeyes and began to walk through thepandemic.I went through everything I remember, every feelingand day, and when I saw edges in theimages of my mind. I drew. My hand and mind’s eyeworked as one to create a map of the lastyear!Also I realized later that there was a linked video(somewhat hidden) on the site but I had foundthe same video by luck so it’s okay!
I decided to map out how my feelings/emotions progressively got worse throughout the pandemic as either more or less events started to happen, each flower represents either a day or even a week depending on many marks are mapped out on the flower as well as representing how the deep the events affects myself as a human being.
Mapping the Mind: the tangible edges of anxiety and joy
“Missing Reminders And Replacing Trails”
This Pandemic has tried everyone but I really felt it all come to a boil for me when my good friend from high school disappeared in 2021. I was already wearing thin from the deaths of the virus growing each day but when Khay disappeared I slowly began to fall from my window of tolerance. Everything became agitating. First it was the false information circulating online. Questions of Khay’s morality came into question, blurring help and lonely strangers’ theories together making it impossible to stay updated without becoming enraged by the thoughtless ness of commenters. I did a bit of digging recently on it and found that not only were his missing poster being taken down by unknown parties but the SARS search was severely ill managed. This has left his loved ones turning to the internet. I’ve seen some blogs talk on the strangeness of it all. But what bothered me the most in my search was the review section for the trail my buddy took that day, Weavers Needle. The most recent comment aside from the ones from Khay’s family begging to keep the posters up and to stay vigilant for any signs of him was a comment saying “Beautiful trail, not marked well at all.”
It all feels like too much to look at, the trail people are assuming he took before he vanished, the missing signs of a photo he’d hate to have shared around as much as it has, and images of the landscape that surrounded him that day.
This visual is the chaos surrounding the case, the loss his loved ones feel as we get closer to a year of now new information. This map is the ambiguous loss.