Blog
*Sinopticon', and I finally finish reading 'Orientalism'
Sinopticon at Plymouth Museum
06/09/2016
In 2012 Eliza Gluckman, Gayle Chong Kwan and I saw our long-planned exhibition Sinopticon take over Plymouth. In Saltram House, Plymouth Art School, Arts Centre and Museum, 13 international artists whose work was about contemporary takes on the historic form of chinoserie showed a wonderful range of beautiful and intelligent work: Erica Tan filmed local migrant workers performing in Saltram House's dining room, Grayson Perry had pottery interventions among Plymouth Museum's collection, Karen Tam set up a souvenir shop in Plymouth Arts Centre, Meekyoung Shin made exquisite chinese pots from soap. If you Google 'Sinopticon' images you will find a glorious rit of imaginative and smart work.
Eliza, Gayle and I had spent endles hours researching chinoiserie, prowling round the V&A, mining the great mind of National Trust's expert Emil de Bruijn, visiting far-flung stately homes to peer at ornate bedchambers and teapots. Fruits of this included a Friday Live at V&A curated by Eliza, in which Wessie Ling played chess with her chinoiserie set, Gayle set up her taste memory booth and I took my 7 foot tall green robot for a spin. We also had a symposium at V&A chaired by Glenn Adamson, discussing the idea of using chinoiserie as a prism through which to view the past and the Orient.
Part of my own research was to read Orientalism and now, 4 years later, I've finally finished it and I'm feeling a bit bereft. For someone used to munching novels like I watch telly, reading non-fiction is something I need to train for. By the time I finished it, the book had become floppy and stained, here and there underlinings marred the whiteness of the page. In the end I started reading it out loud to bring my wandering mind to focus. But it was a massively rewarding effort and stranf=gely has made my mind more accepting of challenging writing.
But it is a wonderfully rich book, full of character and erudition - and anger. Said, an Arab intellectual working in America, has stunning command of his subject and writes with passion. He charts the rise of Orientailsm - 'a Powerful European ideological creation - a way for writers, philosophes and colonial administration to deal with the 'otherness' of Eastern culture, customs and beliefs.' He recounts how (mainly) English and French academics made and owned 'their' Orient by definition, description, classification and interpretation. Historians, philologists, travellers, anthroploogists, military and administrative men subjected the Orient that Said ultimately likens to domination of a woman - an orient in decline from a past ascendancy, decadent, sensual, mystical, needing guidance and assistance from superior Europeans.
Much of what said says about the building of a belief to deal with Otherness is true of attitudes to other Others - women, madness, criminality. It also make me prickly about my own attitudes - this is something I'm always dealing with as I look now at the British raj and think about my visits to India. My own felings of enchantment and ownership of the oriental experience make me sheepish, and I watch what I say even though I feel only warmth to the country - I must be aware of my own urge to fictionalise it.
Eliza, Gayle and I had spent endles hours researching chinoiserie, prowling round the V&A, mining the great mind of National Trust's expert Emil de Bruijn, visiting far-flung stately homes to peer at ornate bedchambers and teapots. Fruits of this included a Friday Live at V&A curated by Eliza, in which Wessie Ling played chess with her chinoiserie set, Gayle set up her taste memory booth and I took my 7 foot tall green robot for a spin. We also had a symposium at V&A chaired by Glenn Adamson, discussing the idea of using chinoiserie as a prism through which to view the past and the Orient.
Part of my own research was to read Orientalism and now, 4 years later, I've finally finished it and I'm feeling a bit bereft. For someone used to munching novels like I watch telly, reading non-fiction is something I need to train for. By the time I finished it, the book had become floppy and stained, here and there underlinings marred the whiteness of the page. In the end I started reading it out loud to bring my wandering mind to focus. But it was a massively rewarding effort and stranf=gely has made my mind more accepting of challenging writing.
But it is a wonderfully rich book, full of character and erudition - and anger. Said, an Arab intellectual working in America, has stunning command of his subject and writes with passion. He charts the rise of Orientailsm - 'a Powerful European ideological creation - a way for writers, philosophes and colonial administration to deal with the 'otherness' of Eastern culture, customs and beliefs.' He recounts how (mainly) English and French academics made and owned 'their' Orient by definition, description, classification and interpretation. Historians, philologists, travellers, anthroploogists, military and administrative men subjected the Orient that Said ultimately likens to domination of a woman - an orient in decline from a past ascendancy, decadent, sensual, mystical, needing guidance and assistance from superior Europeans.
Much of what said says about the building of a belief to deal with Otherness is true of attitudes to other Others - women, madness, criminality. It also make me prickly about my own attitudes - this is something I'm always dealing with as I look now at the British raj and think about my visits to India. My own felings of enchantment and ownership of the oriental experience make me sheepish, and I watch what I say even though I feel only warmth to the country - I must be aware of my own urge to fictionalise it.
