Post Transit

Posted on | July 30, 2007 | 12 Comments

Bloc Party are right: East London is a vampire, it sucks the joy right out of me. Chris Rojek is also right: there is something very wrong with English cultural studies when one figure – Stuart Hall – casts such a shadow over the efforts of scholars past and present to move the field forward, or in a range of directions even. I think the reason I disputed Rojek’s reading in the past is because I’d never been confronted with the magnitude of the hagiography that exists around Hall in England. I’ve now caught a glimpse of what it must be like to practice cultural studies in that shadow, and as a young scholar it’s really frustrating, as well as politically and theoretically troubling.

Like everyone else I was on the edge of my seat when Hall took the podium at UEL, and it wasn’t just because he was standing so far away from the mic we could hardly hear. I doubt I’ll ever see an academic captivate a lecture theatre in quite that way again. But the reason I cried at the end had as much to do with my embarrassment at the standing ovation as it did my desire to live up to his hopes for the field in the present and with hopes for its future, without expecting his guidance to remain the sole source of motivation towards those objectives or reifying the tools of analysis he developed as “always already” the most politically authentic (to adopt just one of the phrases from the conference I don’t ever need to hear again. We made a list).

Clearly I’ve come away from London even less optimistic about cultural studies as a project than I was when I arrived – in fact I had to change one of my presentations to be a bit more honest about that. This isn’t to say I didn’t see some great papers – Guy Redden, Ted Striphas, Sumitra Srinivasan, Cara Wallis, Ben Highmore and Kate Lacey just to name a few. The keynotes I went to were also excellent, particularly Kuan-Hsing Chen whose opening address on ‘Asia as method’ was a welcome contribution to the often Anglo-American nature of the debates, just as Dick Hebdige’s focus on Japanese art and pop culture was fascinating (if a little problematic? I was too enamoured by his Morrissey-esque style and retro slides to trust my critical instincts for that one).

The timing of the plenaries at the end of the day in a stuffy and crowded lecture hall made conditions for listening and responding incredibly hard, without the added problem of speakers running into question time and dinner. Not a conference for claustrophobes or grandmas! The exception was the morning plenary session with Judith Halberstam and Rosi Braidotti. While those of us who were at Goldsmiths on Wednesday had a preview of Judith’s presentation on “low theory” and the politics of Pixar films, Rosi was the standout performance of the conference for me. Not only could she speak eloquently, forcefully and dynamically about philosophy and its relationship to politics – offering a critique of Left melancholia that the conference sorely needed, but didn’t seem to want to hear – she did so with spirit and humour, two things that the conference also seemed to lack. Maybe it had something to do with the difficult conditions the organisers were working under, which were mentioned in detail at the final session; maybe I picked the wrong sessions (kind of inevitable); maybe it was just that, as Australians, my colleagues and I tend to be a little more laid back (one presenter at the conference called Australians “plain speaking” which was taken to mean that we wouldn’t tolerate PC efforts to make our workplaces more welcoming for queers). When Nick Couldry dropped in for a day and reminded us that cultural studies has always been about “voices” – i.e. working towards a more even distribution of them – it helped me work out my problem. Not only was the seriousness of the conference a bit of a surprise, but the microphones were incredibly sticky: once someone had one in their hand, it seemed very hard for them to put it down.

That said, I gave two papers at the conference, so I am just as guilty of talking too much. But it sure is a long way to go to present your work, and even tho the panel I organised was dealt the early morning session on the last day after the conference dinner the night before, I was so proud to present with such smart and savvy girls from my home town, and hear some younger perspectives to contextualize the hand-wringing of others. Of course, as Gil Rodman‘s paper argued so well, what “young” means in an academic context is complicated as well, indeed it’s probably the very issue I’m trying to get at.

On our final day in the city, Jean and I went to the “How We Are: Photographing Britain” exhibition at the Tate, figuring that some visual stimulation would offer a nice change to all the talking of the past few days. Somehow the periodisation of the photos resonated with my inchoate feelings about cultural studies’ potential: the shots from the 70s and 80s conveyed grit and anger and outrage, a sense of the stakes involved in representation, a conviction that it matters that there are winners and losers in society. By the end of the exhibition, the photos had turned towards stark and ugly depictions of empty consumerism, banal celebrity, resigned inauthenticity and political ennui. Of course cultural studies has been complicit in all of these things, as it must if it is doing its job of reflecting the culture it studies. But if it no longer wants alternatives, if it can’t situate Western experience in relation to the suffering or indeed the pleasure of others elsewhere, if there is no wider question “haunting” its work (to quote Stuart Hall – another phrase I don’t need to hear again)… then I’m no longer interested.

PS: The only other time I have cried at a cultural studies conference keynote is when John Frow spoke against the anti-terrorism legislation in Canberra last year. It seems fitting, in all the wrong ways, to come home to see the prescience of his thinking.

Comments

12 Responses to “Post Transit”

  1. jean
    July 30th, 2007 @ 10:32 pm

    From my point of view, this does a great job of capturing the ‘structure of feeling’ of the conference (to quote someone who was seldom mentioned there). now it’s my turn to feel the blogging pressure…

    PS I’m fascinated that i raced out of the exhibition before you, and yet we both felt the same way about the 90s part.

  2. kiley
    August 2nd, 2007 @ 9:25 am

    I think you covered most of what we all felt Mel. I felt that the constant baby booming nostalgia reiterated the sentimentality of the pig city symposium. How uninspiring to see a bunch of old prigs talking about how their old stuff was better than our new stuff and no matter how hard we try, we’ll never quite get as authentically political as they were. It defeats any kind of cultural studies ‘project’ that they are attempting to formulate. I too felt comfort in our own little community (in which I include mark and gil) because we seemed to be less performative, none of that frenzied ‘academic in motion’ shit, as though bodily movement and eye darting somehow implies profundity and importance. I want more ethics in my politics, that’s for sure!

    Thanks for the team shout out too x

  3. c
    August 2nd, 2007 @ 6:19 pm

    quite simply, fuck the self-righteous old prigs. {plain speaking enuff?}

    No-one needs ‘authentic’ theoretical ‘keys’ and a version of self-congratulatory CS. Nor an egotistical pedigree being shoved down their throat by some sort of CS cartel.

    An alternative is just go back to basics and work on political and theoretical initiatives of CS from the ground up with communities – where’s that Hoggart fella when ya need him.

    And look to those who don’t buy into such rubbish for inspiration – like Kuan-Hsing Chen – and innumerable community-based activists and educators.

    Rage Against the Machine: “we don’t need the key we’ll fucking break in”.

  4. Kirsty
    August 3rd, 2007 @ 9:38 am

    I don’t know if I’m reading you properly Mel, but every time I read your blog there seems to be a strange combination of vociferously condemning the older generation of Cultural Studies scholars because they continue to cast long shadows and a kind of lament for the authentic activism of another time whether that be the Brisbane or Birmingham of another decade. Something always seems to remain inaccessible to present day Cultural Studies scholars because of someone or something else.

    As a present day cultural studies scholar myself, I can’t identify with your anger or that of your commenters, indeed I often find it quite alienating, and I’m not sure if that’s a matter of simply just not agreeing with what seems a totalising pessimism, a complete failure on my part to comprehend the politics of what your expressing, or, or… I don’t know. Maybe you can help me out.

  5. melgregg
    August 3rd, 2007 @ 10:09 am

    Hi Kirsty, It’s possible that I’m lamenting activism in general, but certainly not some kind of authentic version (which is actually the critique I’m making of others). Nor would I ever condemn an entire generation for anything in seriousness. Here I’m talking about what happened at one conference, and the emotions it generated…

    I thought I expressed a wider range of feelings than your reading implies, but maybe the subsequent comments have a way of inflecting those particular meanings. You could be right about my blog being a pessimistic space, but that is as much to do with what motivates me to write and why rather than a theoretical or political position about cultural studies (which is far from my only interest).

  6. c
    August 3rd, 2007 @ 2:19 pm

    Off topic somewhat but I think a response is called for by me to explain my ‘angry’ comment:

    There is actually plenty to be agitating – and anger does this – about in CS – ECRs casualised to the enth degree and tenured CS academics needing to do more about it, more diversity and dissemination and support of non-western regions in CS publishing and project initiatives, a critique of the liberal hegemony in CS politics, and an increase in community engagement and initiatives in certain circles/regions.

    The anger I expressed in my comment is borne of the pessimism and frustration at the above, and the fact that there was a lack of intellectual honesty and urgency about these issues at the conference Mel unpacks.

    Also influencing the comment was a beer or two, and a sense of playfulness that was lost in the medium.

    As a ‘heart on the sleeve’, ‘knee-jerk’, affective/emotional response I know it may alienate those who prefer polite bourgeois rational academic etiquette.

    I like that though, but I am a shit-stirrer.

    The urgent and intense political debates and issues in the neighborhoods I have been working in don’t take a form of discourse that doesn’t ‘alienate’ anyone. So I forget myself I guess.

    It is actually the hegemonic academic mode of address that actually alienates these people.

    I prefer people to be honest – like Mel was in her post – to wear their heart on their sleeve, and to get fired up if they need to – I love them for it. It’s a humanness and warmth that CS can use. It not always ‘nice’ though.

    Self-congratulatory theoretical back patting and a conference that lacked political impetus and agitation will hardly get any difficult political projects moving, and political boats rocking.

    It’s ironic that while there is so much writing ‘about’ affect in CS I hope for more expression ‘through’ affect on CS blogs, conferences, writing, and debates.

    In fact, I think it is urgently needed.

  7. Kirsty
    August 4th, 2007 @ 6:16 pm

    I wasn’t particularly thinking of your initial comment c, but I am curious as to why the expression of anger is viewed as somehow a more honest emotion than any other in response to the various issues at hand?

    I wonder too why any expressed aversion to being confronted with anger is so quickly dismissed as a ‘polite bourgeois’ response without proper consideration or knowledge of the context or speaking positions of the individuals involved?

    And finally I wonder where academic hospitality fits into all of this? Not so off topic after all.

  8. c
    August 5th, 2007 @ 9:09 am

    At no point was ‘anger’ called, or referred to, as ‘more honest’. I was referring to the affective dimensions of responses/voices [check out Mel's book] – of which anger is one emotion that feeds off and gets caught up with.

    Wy ref to ‘polite bourgie response’ was a nod in the direction of the academy’s preference for such a mode of discussion. Which rules at the vast majority conferences, workshops, seminars, etc – such as the one under discussion.

    This hegemonic voice alienates a LOT of people – where’s the ‘hospitality’ in that?

    Consider the policing of voices that ensues from the version of ‘hospitality’ uncritically tied to the hegemonic voice.

    Which I have encountered repeatedly in academia, and which is evident at the conference under discussion.

    Consider how rewarding it is to work through OTHER affective experiences [I am not prvilegeing anger here, it's an example] with each other. This is not inhospitable.

    Consider how emotions and affects tie bodies together – its an embodied hospitality, and involves – in plain speak – letting your guard down. That’s very hospitable I would have thought.

    Consider how often community is built through shared feelings that spill all over each other. As ugly or messy or intense as that can get.

    Regarding ‘your’ context and speaking position, since you bring it up, it wasn’t about you.

  9. melgregg
    August 6th, 2007 @ 11:29 am

    Reading over my notes from the conference on the weekend, I think Jeremy Gilbert probably summarised the vibe of the conference best in his response to an extremely long-winded question from the floor: “That was more like a book proposal then a question, wasn’t it?”

  10. Guy
    August 21st, 2007 @ 7:33 pm

    I was at the conference and there was an inevitable level of navel-gazing, indeed that was what the conference called for. Part of your perceptions I think are to do with some underlying metropolitan Britishness, a sense of ‘the project’ and its provenance, leading to ‘us’, ‘here’, with place, time and trajectory somehow conflated so that it seemed like some spoke as anointed ones. As a British cs scholar I was struck by how ‘half of’ British cultural studies didn’t show up – and I’d say that would have been a whole load of people doing interesting, transdisciplinary work (I should shut up). And that includes many people who could have hopped over from other parts of London. There was a politics to the setting the thing up I heard… However, I enjoyed the variety of sessions I picked, and skipped enough plenaries to avoid over-exposure to through-narratives. I don’t think the thing was a snapshot of a an endemic nostaglia in British cs.

    I do want to offer an alt reading of the Hall ovation. There’s certainly an element of hagiography, but I believe that it was really to do with the knowledge that Hall is unlikley to attend any/many conferences again in the UK due to his deteriorating health. I can’t say that definitively, but it was what I felt, and he’s been writing until recently, but has now stopped. I wish I could discipline myself not to star-worship, but I find it hard to avoid this particular nostalgia trip. Hall does represent a collaborative mode of cs, linked to a critical pedagogy, and which had a much greater ability, IMO, to respond to socio-cultural issues on terms defined by the scholars involved, rather than their potential evaluators/sponsors. All that is harder now in the game-playing environment of the RAE, thus raising the nostalgia stakes even further for many present!

    What are you Aussies making of the RQF?
    http://www.theaustralian.news.com.au/story/0,20867,21855132-12332,00.html

  11. home cooked theory » Blog Archive » Conditions on the ground (post-Post Transit)
    August 22nd, 2007 @ 11:20 am

    [...] Guy has written an important comment that I don’t want to get lost, as it adds depth and context to the partial picture I gave of the UEL conference. His final remarks are crucial: and give some concrete form to the complaints about neoliberalism that echoed around the event. I always wonder why there aren’t more explicit discussions of the material conditions for academic labour at disciplinary conferences, because it seems like the only viable place to have a genuine, ongoing, international dialogue about them (i.e. you’re stuck together for a number of days, and it takes that long to start a conversation sometimes). The Crossroads conference has attempted this in recent years, and I hope that next year in Jamaica we can do the same. I also think the ECR day in Adelaide holds potential for some of these issues to be raised for cultural studies workers. [...]

  12. Sticky Mics - some thoughts on Cultural Studies Now « tabula rasa
    September 26th, 2007 @ 9:25 am

    [...] Sticky Mics – some thoughts on Cultural Studies Now After a late summer break and with the benefit of time I wanted to very briefly reflect on the Cultural Studies Now conference which took place in London in July. As one of the organizers my perspective is clearly marked by my insider location and personal inscription within the conference machinery. But in a conference of this size, with over 100 panels over four days, no one really has a totalizing perspective on the event. This is not to say one cannot attempt to piece together one – to draw out the kernel around which the conference became constructed. It is in this spirit that this post is a sort of tangential comment on Melissa Gregg’s entry ‘Post Transit’ in her Home Cooked Theory blog. While Gregg’s post is a limited response to the conference within the context of a blog, it does present a position on the event and cultural studies more generally, which essentially for me is the present problem with Cultural Studies scholarship as a politics. So in that sense it is an important commentary on the present state of critical thought. [...]

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