{"title":"一个沉默的第一民族祖先的A/r/地理调查,鬼屋学,G(主机)和艺术(作品):展览目录。","authors":"G. Cloutier","doi":"10.20381/ruor-6683","DOIUrl":null,"url":null,"abstract":"As a hauntological artist, I deconstruct my silenced First Nation Wolastoqiyik (Maliseet) ancestry and look towards the intergenerational narratives of my grandmother, mother, and I. Employing the methodology of a/r/tography, the intersection of autobiography and art-making, I utilize diverse art forms to find that g(hosts) reside amongst spaces of liminality. Supported by the methodology of a/r/tography and drawing upon works, which blur the boundary between past and present, self and other, I deconstruct the silencing of my First Nation lineage by creating three art(works). These art(works) are placed within an exhibition catalogue and inquire into 1) the specters that loom between the evocative objects of our narratives, 2) how script-writing and the script’s performance can reveal ghosts in IJEA Vol. 17 No. 30 http://www.ijea.org/v17n30/ 2 spaces of liminality, and 3) how sculptures facilitate spectral movement. Each individual art(work) plays a role in breaking the silence. A(wake), specters arise. When I was a child, people often asked me if I was First Nation or “an Indian”. I suppose it was because my skin was darker. I practically lived outside. Sun drenched, my hair was long, going down to my elbows, at times. In response though, I always told them that there was no relation. When I was ten years old, a neighbour brought me to the Odawa Pow Wow. I remember dancing in the circle with everyone. I remember flowing bodies, the trees, the campsite around us, the feathers, the beading–the sense that people were coming together to experience this relationality as drumming and dancing filled the space with colour and movement. The circle was alive with the dynamic motion that everybody brought forth. I thought about the experience a lot afterwards, and grew up to have an expanding interest in Aboriginal knowledge and education. Then, in 2007 as I was making a film with my grandmother and mother, I learned that my grandmother’s grandfather was First Nation. I learned that my grandmother only found out when she was thirty years old, that the ancestry was silenced by the family. I knew a lot about First Nations history, the historical Cloutier: An A/r/tographic Inquiry 3 trauma that comes with it, but I was not prepared to be so close to that history. How was I to proceed? My great great grandfather was born of the Wolastoqiyik (Maliseet) Peoples. As an a/r/tographer (Irwin, 2004; Irwin & de Cosson, 2004; Springgay, Irwin, & Kind, 2005; Springgay, Irwin, Leggo, & Gouzouasis, 2008), I am struck by a destabilizing hauntology, a haunted (non)presence whereupon the past permeates the present (Derrida, 1994). Workingtowards breaking the silence through art, I consider what is outside language and objects to find that ghosts reside amongst spaces of liminality. Intergenerational narratives concerning a silenced First Nation ancestry are deconstructed within a continuum of time that connects the past with the present, and into the future. A silencing stirs. Towards a Theoretical Blueprint for Living in My Haunted House While supported by a/r/tography, I dedicate myself to an emergent journey through art and text, and look towards creating a theoretical blueprint for living in my haunted house. Considering how the intergenerational narratives of my silenced Wolastoqiyik lineage affect me as an a/r/tographer, I am drawn towards a ghostly relationality. I place myself amongst the movement that I experience as I break the silence of my First Nations ancestry. This spectral movement occurs through art and is beyond the self; it is a hauntology, a haunted ontology, a displaced voice. Through a/r/tography, I work towards including “voices in research that may not otherwise be heard (Sinner, Leggo, Irwin, Gouzouasis, & Grauer, 2006, p. 1249), and consider how inquiring into the intergenerational narratives have emphasized a multiplicity of subjectivities, emerging, still. Through a/r/tography, with the many voices around me, I draw on works which blur the boundaries of self and other, past and present (Bhabha, 1994; Chambers, 1994; Derrida, 1994, 1997; Aoki, 1993, 2003), because within the scope of narratives, “disjunctive temporalities” (Bhabha, 1994, p. 254) remind us that we are always being haunted by the past – with that, I reflect on how I do not want to privilege presence over absence (Aoki, 2003, p. 3). Drawing from these philosophical notions, and supported by the methodology of a/r/tography, I deconstruct the silencing of my First Nation lineage at sites of liminality. Liminality, while blurring presence and absence, resides amongst intertextual spaces of ambiguity (Hurren, 2003). I think about how “artists, researchers, and teachers can linger in the liminal spaces of unknowing/knowing” through their art practices (Leggo, Sinner, Irwin, Pantaleo, Gouzouasis & Grauer, 2011, pp. 239–240). Through the layered, interwoven, and at times fragmented identities of artist/researcher/teacher, I experience liminality–between these blurred identities. Through intertextual spaces, and experiencing movement through artmaking, I think about the liminal space of being dislocated while “maintaining a spectral IJEA Vol. 17 No. 30 http://www.ijea.org/v17n30/ 4 presence” (Palulis, 2003, p. 269). I think about how the specter, too, resonates with and blurs the distinction between presence and absence, because the spectre is neither present nor absent– “the specter is the future, it is always to come, it presents itself only as that which could come or come back; in the future” (Derrida, 1994, p. 48). The specter is not present, and “this non-presence of the specter demands that one take its times and its history into consideration” (Ibid, p. 126). In this way, the specter of my silenced First Nation lineage is one of my hauntologies–haunting me, still. I work through this haunting via “the methodological concepts of contiguity, living inquiry, openings, metaphor/metonymy, reverberations and excess” (Irwin & Sinner, 2013, p. ii). Through a/r/tography, I present and perform my experiences of liminality and spectrality as I displace meaning through art-making. There is a blurring of presence and absence– through metonymic moments: a “tensioned space of ambiguity, ambivalence, and uncertainty” (Aoki, 1999, p. 181). This is reflected photographically in my work, in the conflation of the dream catcher, rosary and the Eiffel Tower, hence alluding to our nation’s troubled colonial history. Like de Cosson (2008), “I choose these symbols to wrestle with, to play with, in a tangled dance of metaphor and metonymic spaces to crack some new space of seeing, of learning” (p. 285). My (death)less silenced First Nation lineage haunts me, and makes me aware that “the dead can often be more powerful than the living” (Derrida, 1994, p. 48). Reflecting on the historical trauma that Canada has experienced, I look towards Dalene Swanson (2008), and I too believe that “we need to seek out the phantoms of the other that haunts us, and that a passion for justice means interlocuting with ghosts” (p. 185). Moreover, I consider haunting as a metaphor as it “can be an empowering literary and artistic trope that can evoke trauma, loss, rupture, recovery, healing and wisdom. It is also, at its core, political. It provokes (and insists upon) questions about ownership, entitlement, dispossession, and voice” (Goldman & Saul, 2006, p. 44). In this way, as the tension between presence and absence is explored, the notion of hauntological relationships, framed by a/r/tography, is understood via lived experience and political manifestations affected by real work conditions and struggles over knowledge and resources, as you shall see through my art practice. A/r/tography as an emergent method Through art-making, I “remain flexible and open to modifications” (Hesse-Biber & Leavy, 2008, p. 3). I let the material and the ghosts speak to me. Artistic processes are emergent by nature, after all. Like Indigenous artist and activist Jimmie Durham (1993), I believe that the “visual arts are complex and sociable, not controllable” (p. 251). My art, my research, is emergent by nature. Emerging, still: I think about how “the researcher and the research are part of an intricate dance that is always evolving” (Sinner, Leggo, Irwin, Gouzouasis, & Cloutier: An A/r/tographic Inquiry 5 Grauer, 2006, p. 1242). Supported by the methodology of a/r/tography, the intersection of autobiographical writing and art-making (Irwin & de Cosson, 2004), I draw on theory as a/r/tography as métissage (Irwin, 2004), a method of “relational aesthetic inquiry” (Leggo, Sinner, Irwin, Pantaleo, Gouzouasis, & Grauer, 2011, p. 239). This allows me to inquire into how contemporary art practices can go beyond cultural capital (Bourdieu, 1991), beyond art for art’s sake– in the way that “arts-based researchers often explain their work and offer cues as to how to read their representations in relationship to social science” (Cahnmann-Taylor & Siegesmund, 2008, p. 234). Self reflection occurs under a larger system of exchange. It involves “a relationship with the other; at the same time, it constitutes a relationship with the world” (Bourriaud, 2002, p. 53). Alongside my mother and grandmother’s stories, an inquiry into art’s transformative power unfolds. I look towards the arts-based research methodology of a/r/tography, because as an interdisciplinary artist/researcher/teacher, relational social practices can be inquired into via a wide variety of material, including “narrative writing, autobiography, dance and movement, readers theatre, multi-media, hypertext, visual arts, photography, music, poetry, and creative non-fiction (among others)” (Sinner, Leggo, Irwin, Gouzouasis, & Grauer, 2006, p. 1248). Employing diverse art forms to work through and deconstruct my silenced lineage, I ask: How does “the process of my own doing” (De Cosson, 2004, p. 132) allow voices and specters to appear? The Studio and an Art Exhibit","PeriodicalId":44257,"journal":{"name":"International Journal of Education and the Arts","volume":null,"pages":null},"PeriodicalIF":0.7000,"publicationDate":"2016-11-17","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":"2","resultStr":"{\"title\":\"An A/r/tographic Inquiry of a Silenced First Nation Ancestry, Hauntology, G(hosts) and Art(works): An Exhibition Catalogue.\",\"authors\":\"G. Cloutier\",\"doi\":\"10.20381/ruor-6683\",\"DOIUrl\":null,\"url\":null,\"abstract\":\"As a hauntological artist, I deconstruct my silenced First Nation Wolastoqiyik (Maliseet) ancestry and look towards the intergenerational narratives of my grandmother, mother, and I. Employing the methodology of a/r/tography, the intersection of autobiography and art-making, I utilize diverse art forms to find that g(hosts) reside amongst spaces of liminality. Supported by the methodology of a/r/tography and drawing upon works, which blur the boundary between past and present, self and other, I deconstruct the silencing of my First Nation lineage by creating three art(works). These art(works) are placed within an exhibition catalogue and inquire into 1) the specters that loom between the evocative objects of our narratives, 2) how script-writing and the script’s performance can reveal ghosts in IJEA Vol. 17 No. 30 http://www.ijea.org/v17n30/ 2 spaces of liminality, and 3) how sculptures facilitate spectral movement. Each individual art(work) plays a role in breaking the silence. A(wake), specters arise. When I was a child, people often asked me if I was First Nation or “an Indian”. I suppose it was because my skin was darker. I practically lived outside. Sun drenched, my hair was long, going down to my elbows, at times. In response though, I always told them that there was no relation. When I was ten years old, a neighbour brought me to the Odawa Pow Wow. I remember dancing in the circle with everyone. I remember flowing bodies, the trees, the campsite around us, the feathers, the beading–the sense that people were coming together to experience this relationality as drumming and dancing filled the space with colour and movement. The circle was alive with the dynamic motion that everybody brought forth. I thought about the experience a lot afterwards, and grew up to have an expanding interest in Aboriginal knowledge and education. Then, in 2007 as I was making a film with my grandmother and mother, I learned that my grandmother’s grandfather was First Nation. I learned that my grandmother only found out when she was thirty years old, that the ancestry was silenced by the family. I knew a lot about First Nations history, the historical Cloutier: An A/r/tographic Inquiry 3 trauma that comes with it, but I was not prepared to be so close to that history. How was I to proceed? My great great grandfather was born of the Wolastoqiyik (Maliseet) Peoples. As an a/r/tographer (Irwin, 2004; Irwin & de Cosson, 2004; Springgay, Irwin, & Kind, 2005; Springgay, Irwin, Leggo, & Gouzouasis, 2008), I am struck by a destabilizing hauntology, a haunted (non)presence whereupon the past permeates the present (Derrida, 1994). Workingtowards breaking the silence through art, I consider what is outside language and objects to find that ghosts reside amongst spaces of liminality. Intergenerational narratives concerning a silenced First Nation ancestry are deconstructed within a continuum of time that connects the past with the present, and into the future. A silencing stirs. Towards a Theoretical Blueprint for Living in My Haunted House While supported by a/r/tography, I dedicate myself to an emergent journey through art and text, and look towards creating a theoretical blueprint for living in my haunted house. Considering how the intergenerational narratives of my silenced Wolastoqiyik lineage affect me as an a/r/tographer, I am drawn towards a ghostly relationality. I place myself amongst the movement that I experience as I break the silence of my First Nations ancestry. This spectral movement occurs through art and is beyond the self; it is a hauntology, a haunted ontology, a displaced voice. Through a/r/tography, I work towards including “voices in research that may not otherwise be heard (Sinner, Leggo, Irwin, Gouzouasis, & Grauer, 2006, p. 1249), and consider how inquiring into the intergenerational narratives have emphasized a multiplicity of subjectivities, emerging, still. Through a/r/tography, with the many voices around me, I draw on works which blur the boundaries of self and other, past and present (Bhabha, 1994; Chambers, 1994; Derrida, 1994, 1997; Aoki, 1993, 2003), because within the scope of narratives, “disjunctive temporalities” (Bhabha, 1994, p. 254) remind us that we are always being haunted by the past – with that, I reflect on how I do not want to privilege presence over absence (Aoki, 2003, p. 3). Drawing from these philosophical notions, and supported by the methodology of a/r/tography, I deconstruct the silencing of my First Nation lineage at sites of liminality. Liminality, while blurring presence and absence, resides amongst intertextual spaces of ambiguity (Hurren, 2003). I think about how “artists, researchers, and teachers can linger in the liminal spaces of unknowing/knowing” through their art practices (Leggo, Sinner, Irwin, Pantaleo, Gouzouasis & Grauer, 2011, pp. 239–240). Through the layered, interwoven, and at times fragmented identities of artist/researcher/teacher, I experience liminality–between these blurred identities. Through intertextual spaces, and experiencing movement through artmaking, I think about the liminal space of being dislocated while “maintaining a spectral IJEA Vol. 17 No. 30 http://www.ijea.org/v17n30/ 4 presence” (Palulis, 2003, p. 269). I think about how the specter, too, resonates with and blurs the distinction between presence and absence, because the spectre is neither present nor absent– “the specter is the future, it is always to come, it presents itself only as that which could come or come back; in the future” (Derrida, 1994, p. 48). The specter is not present, and “this non-presence of the specter demands that one take its times and its history into consideration” (Ibid, p. 126). In this way, the specter of my silenced First Nation lineage is one of my hauntologies–haunting me, still. I work through this haunting via “the methodological concepts of contiguity, living inquiry, openings, metaphor/metonymy, reverberations and excess” (Irwin & Sinner, 2013, p. ii). Through a/r/tography, I present and perform my experiences of liminality and spectrality as I displace meaning through art-making. There is a blurring of presence and absence– through metonymic moments: a “tensioned space of ambiguity, ambivalence, and uncertainty” (Aoki, 1999, p. 181). This is reflected photographically in my work, in the conflation of the dream catcher, rosary and the Eiffel Tower, hence alluding to our nation’s troubled colonial history. Like de Cosson (2008), “I choose these symbols to wrestle with, to play with, in a tangled dance of metaphor and metonymic spaces to crack some new space of seeing, of learning” (p. 285). My (death)less silenced First Nation lineage haunts me, and makes me aware that “the dead can often be more powerful than the living” (Derrida, 1994, p. 48). Reflecting on the historical trauma that Canada has experienced, I look towards Dalene Swanson (2008), and I too believe that “we need to seek out the phantoms of the other that haunts us, and that a passion for justice means interlocuting with ghosts” (p. 185). Moreover, I consider haunting as a metaphor as it “can be an empowering literary and artistic trope that can evoke trauma, loss, rupture, recovery, healing and wisdom. It is also, at its core, political. It provokes (and insists upon) questions about ownership, entitlement, dispossession, and voice” (Goldman & Saul, 2006, p. 44). In this way, as the tension between presence and absence is explored, the notion of hauntological relationships, framed by a/r/tography, is understood via lived experience and political manifestations affected by real work conditions and struggles over knowledge and resources, as you shall see through my art practice. A/r/tography as an emergent method Through art-making, I “remain flexible and open to modifications” (Hesse-Biber & Leavy, 2008, p. 3). I let the material and the ghosts speak to me. Artistic processes are emergent by nature, after all. Like Indigenous artist and activist Jimmie Durham (1993), I believe that the “visual arts are complex and sociable, not controllable” (p. 251). My art, my research, is emergent by nature. Emerging, still: I think about how “the researcher and the research are part of an intricate dance that is always evolving” (Sinner, Leggo, Irwin, Gouzouasis, & Cloutier: An A/r/tographic Inquiry 5 Grauer, 2006, p. 1242). Supported by the methodology of a/r/tography, the intersection of autobiographical writing and art-making (Irwin & de Cosson, 2004), I draw on theory as a/r/tography as métissage (Irwin, 2004), a method of “relational aesthetic inquiry” (Leggo, Sinner, Irwin, Pantaleo, Gouzouasis, & Grauer, 2011, p. 239). This allows me to inquire into how contemporary art practices can go beyond cultural capital (Bourdieu, 1991), beyond art for art’s sake– in the way that “arts-based researchers often explain their work and offer cues as to how to read their representations in relationship to social science” (Cahnmann-Taylor & Siegesmund, 2008, p. 234). Self reflection occurs under a larger system of exchange. It involves “a relationship with the other; at the same time, it constitutes a relationship with the world” (Bourriaud, 2002, p. 53). Alongside my mother and grandmother’s stories, an inquiry into art’s transformative power unfolds. I look towards the arts-based research methodology of a/r/tography, because as an interdisciplinary artist/researcher/teacher, relational social practices can be inquired into via a wide variety of material, including “narrative writing, autobiography, dance and movement, readers theatre, multi-media, hypertext, visual arts, photography, music, poetry, and creative non-fiction (among others)” (Sinner, Leggo, Irwin, Gouzouasis, & Grauer, 2006, p. 1248). Employing diverse art forms to work through and deconstruct my silenced lineage, I ask: How does “the process of my own doing” (De Cosson, 2004, p. 132) allow voices and specters to appear? The Studio and an Art Exhibit\",\"PeriodicalId\":44257,\"journal\":{\"name\":\"International Journal of Education and the Arts\",\"volume\":null,\"pages\":null},\"PeriodicalIF\":0.7000,\"publicationDate\":\"2016-11-17\",\"publicationTypes\":\"Journal Article\",\"fieldsOfStudy\":null,\"isOpenAccess\":false,\"openAccessPdf\":\"\",\"citationCount\":\"2\",\"resultStr\":null,\"platform\":\"Semanticscholar\",\"paperid\":null,\"PeriodicalName\":\"International Journal of Education and the Arts\",\"FirstCategoryId\":\"1085\",\"ListUrlMain\":\"https://doi.org/10.20381/ruor-6683\",\"RegionNum\":0,\"RegionCategory\":null,\"ArticlePicture\":[],\"TitleCN\":null,\"AbstractTextCN\":null,\"PMCID\":null,\"EPubDate\":\"\",\"PubModel\":\"\",\"JCR\":\"Q3\",\"JCRName\":\"EDUCATION & EDUCATIONAL RESEARCH\",\"Score\":null,\"Total\":0}","platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":null,"PeriodicalName":"International Journal of Education and the Arts","FirstCategoryId":"1085","ListUrlMain":"https://doi.org/10.20381/ruor-6683","RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":null,"ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":null,"EPubDate":"","PubModel":"","JCR":"Q3","JCRName":"EDUCATION & EDUCATIONAL RESEARCH","Score":null,"Total":0}
引用次数: 2
摘要
作为一名鬼魂艺术家,我解构了我沉默的第一民族沃拉斯托奇伊克(Maliseet)祖先,并寻找我祖母、母亲和我的代际叙事。我采用了a/r/地理学的方法,自传和艺术创作的交叉点,我利用不同的艺术形式来寻找g(宿主)居住在有限的空间中。我以a/r/tography的方法论为支撑,以模糊过去与现在、自我与他者界限的作品为素材,通过创作三件艺术作品,解构了我的第一民族血统的沉默。这些艺术(作品)被放置在一个展览目录中,并探讨1)在我们叙述的唤起对象之间隐约出现的幽灵,2)剧本写作和剧本表演如何揭示IJEA Vol. 17 No. 30 http://www.ijea.org/v17n30/ 2 liminality空间中的幽灵,以及3)雕塑如何促进幽灵的运动。每一件单独的艺术(作品)都在打破沉默中发挥着作用。一觉醒来,幽灵就出现了。当我还是个孩子的时候,人们经常问我是“第一民族”还是“印第安人”。我想是因为我的皮肤比较黑。我几乎是住在外面。阳光普照,我的头发很长,有时垂到手肘。作为回应,我总是告诉他们没有关系。当我十岁的时候,一个邻居带我去了小田瓦仪式。我记得我和大家一起在圆圈里跳舞。我记得流动的身体、树木、我们周围的营地、羽毛、串珠——人们聚在一起体验这种关系的感觉,鼓声和舞蹈使空间充满了色彩和运动。由于大家的活跃,整个圈子都活跃起来了。后来我对这段经历思考了很多,长大后对原住民知识和教育的兴趣越来越大。然后,在2007年,当我和我的祖母和母亲一起拍摄一部电影时,我了解到我祖母的祖父是第一民族。我了解到,我的祖母直到30岁时才发现,她的祖先被家人沉默了。我知道很多关于第一民族的历史,历史上的克鲁迪尔:与之相伴随的a /r/地理调查3创伤,但我没有准备好如此接近这段历史。我该怎么做呢?我的曾曾祖父出生在沃拉斯托奇耶克(马里塞特)民族。作为a/r/tographer (Irwin, 2004;Irwin & de Cosson, 2004;Springgay, Irwin & Kind, 2005;Springgay, Irwin, Leggo, & Gouzouasis, 2008),我被一种不稳定的鬼屋学所震撼,一种萦绕(非)的存在,由此过去渗透到现在(德里达,1994)。我试图通过艺术打破沉默,思考语言和物体之外的东西,发现鬼魂存在于阈限的空间中。关于沉默的第一民族祖先的代际叙事在连接过去与现在以及未来的连续时间内被解构。一阵安静的骚动。在a/r/tography的支持下,我致力于通过艺术和文本的突发之旅,并期待为我的鬼屋生活创造一个理论蓝图。考虑到我沉默的Wolastoqiyik血统的代际叙述如何影响我作为一个a/r/tographer,我被一种幽灵般的关系所吸引。当我打破原住民祖先的沉默时,我将自己置身于我所经历的运动之中。这种光谱运动通过艺术发生,超越自我;这是一种鬼魅学,一种闹鬼的本体论,一种流离失所的声音。通过a/r/tography,我致力于在研究中包含“可能不会被听到的声音”(Sinner, Leggo, Irwin, Gouzouasis, & Grauer, 2006, p. 1249),并考虑对代际叙事的探究如何强调了主体性的多样性,这些主体性仍在出现。通过a/r/tography,在我周围的许多声音中,我绘制了模糊自我与他者,过去与现在界限的作品(Bhabha, 1994;室,1994;德里达,1994,1997;Aoki, 1993,2003),因为在叙事的范围内,“分离的时间”(Bhabha, 1994,第254页)提醒我们,我们总是被过去所困扰——因此,我反思我是如何不想特权存在而不是缺席(Aoki, 2003,第3页)。从这些哲学概念中提取,并在a/r/地理学方法论的支持下,我解构了我的第一民族血统在阈限性地点的沉默。阈限,虽然模糊了存在和不存在,但存在于模棱两可的互文空间中(Hurren, 2003)。我思考“艺术家、研究人员和教师如何通过他们的艺术实践在未知/已知的有限空间中徘徊”(Leggo, Sinner, Irwin, Pantaleo, Gouzouasis & Grauer, 2011, pp. 239-240)。 作为一名鬼魂艺术家,我解构了我沉默的第一民族沃拉斯托奇伊克(Maliseet)祖先,并寻找我祖母、母亲和我的代际叙事。我采用了a/r/地理学的方法,自传和艺术创作的交叉点,我利用不同的艺术形式来寻找g(宿主)居住在有限的空间中。我以a/r/tography的方法论为支撑,以模糊过去与现在、自我与他者界限的作品为素材,通过创作三件艺术作品,解构了我的第一民族血统的沉默。这些艺术(作品)被放置在一个展览目录中,并探讨1)在我们叙述的唤起对象之间隐约出现的幽灵,2)剧本写作和剧本表演如何揭示IJEA Vol. 17 No. 30 http://www.ijea.org/v17n30/ 2 liminality空间中的幽灵,以及3)雕塑如何促进幽灵的运动。每一件单独的艺术(作品)都在打破沉默中发挥着作用。一觉醒来,幽灵就出现了。当我还是个孩子的时候,人们经常问我是“第一民族”还是“印第安人”。我想是因为我的皮肤比较黑。我几乎是住在外面。阳光普照,我的头发很长,有时垂到手肘。作为回应,我总是告诉他们没有关系。当我十岁的时候,一个邻居带我去了小田瓦仪式。我记得我和大家一起在圆圈里跳舞。我记得流动的身体、树木、我们周围的营地、羽毛、串珠——人们聚在一起体验这种关系的感觉,鼓声和舞蹈使空间充满了色彩和运动。由于大家的活跃,整个圈子都活跃起来了。后来我对这段经历思考了很多,长大后对原住民知识和教育的兴趣越来越大。然后,在2007年,当我和我的祖母和母亲一起拍摄一部电影时,我了解到我祖母的祖父是第一民族。我了解到,我的祖母直到30岁时才发现,她的祖先被家人沉默了。我知道很多关于第一民族的历史,历史上的克鲁迪尔:与之相伴随的a /r/地理调查3创伤,但我没有准备好如此接近这段历史。我该怎么做呢?我的曾曾祖父出生在沃拉斯托奇耶克(马里塞特)民族。作为a/r/tographer (Irwin, 2004;Irwin & de Cosson, 2004;Springgay, Irwin & Kind, 2005;Springgay, Irwin, Leggo, & Gouzouasis, 2008),我被一种不稳定的鬼屋学所震撼,一种萦绕(非)的存在,由此过去渗透到现在(德里达,1994)。我试图通过艺术打破沉默,思考语言和物体之外的东西,发现鬼魂存在于阈限的空间中。关于沉默的第一民族祖先的代际叙事在连接过去与现在以及未来的连续时间内被解构。一阵安静的骚动。在a/r/tography的支持下,我致力于通过艺术和文本的突发之旅,并期待为我的鬼屋生活创造一个理论蓝图。考虑到我沉默的Wolastoqiyik血统的代际叙述如何影响我作为一个a/r/tographer,我被一种幽灵般的关系所吸引。当我打破原住民祖先的沉默时,我将自己置身于我所经历的运动之中。这种光谱运动通过艺术发生,超越自我;这是一种鬼魅学,一种闹鬼的本体论,一种流离失所的声音。通过a/r/tography,我致力于在研究中包含“可能不会被听到的声音”(Sinner, Leggo, Irwin, Gouzouasis, & Grauer, 2006, p. 1249),并考虑对代际叙事的探究如何强调了主体性的多样性,这些主体性仍在出现。通过a/r/tography,在我周围的许多声音中,我绘制了模糊自我与他者,过去与现在界限的作品(Bhabha, 1994;室,1994;德里达,1994,1997;Aoki, 1993,2003),因为在叙事的范围内,“分离的时间”(Bhabha, 1994,第254页)提醒我们,我们总是被过去所困扰——因此,我反思我是如何不想特权存在而不是缺席(Aoki, 2003,第3页)。从这些哲学概念中提取,并在a/r/地理学方法论的支持下,我解构了我的第一民族血统在阈限性地点的沉默。阈限,虽然模糊了存在和不存在,但存在于模棱两可的互文空间中(Hurren, 2003)。我思考“艺术家、研究人员和教师如何通过他们的艺术实践在未知/已知的有限空间中徘徊”(Leggo, Sinner, Irwin, Pantaleo, Gouzouasis & Grauer, 2011, pp. 239-240)。 通过艺术家/研究者/教师的分层、交织、有时支离破碎的身份,我体验到了这些模糊身份之间的界限。通过互文空间,通过艺术创作体验运动,我在“保持光谱IJEA Vol. 17 No. 30 http://www.ijea.org/v17n30/ 4存在”(Palulis, 2003, p. 269)的同时思考被错位的阈值空间。我也在思考幽灵是如何与在场和不在场之间的区别产生共鸣的,因为幽灵既不在场也不在场——“幽灵是未来,它总是要来的,它只把自己呈现为可以来也可以回来的东西;在未来”(德里达,1994,第48页)。幽灵并不存在,“幽灵的不存在要求人们考虑它的时代和历史”(同上,第126页)。这样,我沉默的第一民族血统的幽灵就成了我的鬼魂之一——至今仍萦绕在我心头。我通过“邻近、生活探究、开放、隐喻/转喻、回响和过剩的方法论概念”(Irwin & Sinner, 2013, p. ii)来解决这种困扰。通过a/r/tography,我呈现并表演了我通过艺术创作取代意义的liminality和spectrality的经验。通过转喻的时刻,存在和缺席是模糊的:一个“模糊、矛盾和不确定的紧张空间”(青木,1999,第181页)。这反映在我的摄影作品中,在捕梦网,念珠和埃菲尔铁塔的合并中,因此暗指我们国家混乱的殖民历史。就像de Cosson(2008)一样,“我选择这些符号在隐喻和转喻空间的纠结舞蹈中与之角斗、玩耍,以打破一些新的观看和学习空间”(第285页)。我的(死亡)不那么沉默的第一民族血统困扰着我,让我意识到“死者往往比生者更强大”(德里达,1994年,第48页)。反思加拿大所经历的历史创伤,我看了看Dalene Swanson(2008),我也相信“我们需要寻找困扰我们的他人的幽灵,而对正义的热情意味着与鬼魂对话”(第185页)。此外,我认为萦绕是一个隐喻,因为它“可以是一种赋予权力的文学和艺术修辞,可以唤起创伤、损失、破裂、恢复、治愈和智慧。”它的核心也是政治性的。它引发(并坚持)关于所有权、权利、剥夺和发言权的问题”(Goldman & Saul, 2006,第44页)。通过这种方式,当存在与缺失之间的张力被探索时,由a/r/地理学框架的鬼魂关系的概念,通过生活经验和受真实工作条件和对知识和资源的斗争影响的政治表现来理解,正如你将通过我的艺术实践所看到的那样。通过艺术创作,我“保持灵活和开放的修改”(Hesse-Biber & Leavy, 2008, p. 3)。我让材料和鬼魂对我说话。毕竟,艺术过程是自然产生的。像土著艺术家和活动家Jimmie Durham(1993)一样,我相信“视觉艺术是复杂的,社交的,不可控的”(p. 251)。我的艺术,我的研究,都是自然涌现的。新兴的,仍然:我认为“研究人员和研究是不断发展的复杂舞蹈的一部分”(Sinner, Leggo, Irwin, Gouzouasis, & Cloutier: an A/r/tographic Inquiry 5 Grauer, 2006, p. 1242)。在a/r/tography(自传写作和艺术创作的交叉点)方法论的支持下(Irwin & de Cosson, 2004),我借鉴了a/r/tography as m<s:1> tissage (Irwin, 2004)理论,这是一种“关系美学探究”方法(Leggo, Sinner, Irwin, Pantaleo, Gouzouasis, & Grauer, 2011, p. 239)。这使我能够探究当代艺术实践如何超越文化资本(布迪厄,1991),超越为艺术而艺术——以“以艺术为基础的研究人员经常解释他们的工作,并提供线索,说明如何解读他们与社会科学的关系”(Cahnmann-Taylor & Siegesmund, 2008, p. 234)的方式。自我反省发生在一个更大的交换系统中。它包括“与他人的关系;同时,它又构成了与世界的关系”(Bourriaud, 2002, p. 53)。伴随着我母亲和祖母的故事,对艺术变革力量的探究展开了。我期待以艺术为基础的a/r/tography的研究方法,因为作为一个跨学科的艺术家/研究者/教师,关系社会实践可以通过各种各样的材料进行探究,包括“叙事写作、自传、舞蹈和运动、读者戏剧、多媒体、超文本、视觉艺术、摄影、音乐、诗歌和创造性非小说(以及其他)”(Sinner, Leggo, Irwin, Gouzouasis, & Grauer, 2006, p. 1248)。 通过艺术家/研究者/教师的分层、交织、有时支离破碎的身份,我体验到了这些模糊身份之间的界限。通过互文空间,通过艺术创作体验运动,我在“保持光谱IJEA Vol. 17 No. 30 http://www.ijea.org/v17n30/ 4存在”(Palulis, 2003, p. 269)的同时思考被错位的阈值空间。我也在思考幽灵是如何与在场和不在场之间的区别产生共鸣的,因为幽灵既不在场也不在场——“幽灵是未来,它总是要来的,它只把自己呈现为可以来也可以回来的东西;在未来”(德里达,1994,第48页)。幽灵并不存在,“幽灵的不存在要求人们考虑它的时代和历史”(同上,第126页)。这样,我沉默的第一民族血统的幽灵就成了我的鬼魂之一——至今仍萦绕在我心头。我通过“邻近、生活探究、开放、隐喻/转喻、回响和过剩的方法论概念”(Irwin & Sinner, 2013, p. ii)来解决这种困扰。通过a/r/tography,我呈现并表演了我通过艺术创作取代意义的liminality和spectrality的经验。通过转喻的时刻,存在和缺席是模糊的:一个“模糊、矛盾和不确定的紧张空间”(青木,1999,第181页)。这反映在我的摄影作品中,在捕梦网,念珠和埃菲尔铁塔的合并中,因此暗指我们国家混乱的殖民历史。就像de Cosson(2008)一样,“我选择这些符号在隐喻和转喻空间的纠结舞蹈中与之角斗、玩耍,以打破一些新的观看和学习空间”(第285页)。我的(死亡)不那么沉默的第一民族血统困扰着我,让我意识到“死者往往比生者更强大”(德里达,1994年,第48页)。反思加拿大所经历的历史创伤,我看了看Dalene Swanson(2008),我也相信“我们需要寻找困扰我们的他人的幽灵,而对正义的热情意味着与鬼魂对话”(第185页)。此外,我认为萦绕是一个隐喻,因为它“可以是一种赋予权力的文学和艺术修辞,可以唤起创伤、损失、破裂、恢复、治愈和智慧。”它的核心也是政治性的。它引发(并坚持)关于所有权、权利、剥夺和发言权的问题”(Goldman & Saul, 2006,第44页)。通过这种方式,当存在与缺失之间的张力被探索时,由a/r/地理学框架的鬼魂关系的概念,通过生活经验和受真实工作条件和对知识和资源的斗争影响的政治表现来理解,正如你将通过我的艺术实践所看到的那样。通过艺术创作,我“保持灵活和开放的修改”(Hesse-Biber & Leavy, 2008, p. 3)。我让材料和鬼魂对我说话。毕竟,艺术过程是自然产生的。像土著艺术家和活动家Jimmie Durham(1993)一样,我相信“视觉艺术是复杂的,社交的,不可控的”(p. 251)。我的艺术,我的研究,都是自然涌现的。新兴的,仍然:我认为“研究人员和研究是不断发展的复杂舞蹈的一部分”(Sinner, Leggo, Irwin, Gouzouasis, & Cloutier: an A/r/tographic Inquiry 5 Grauer, 2006, p. 1242)。在a/r/tography(自传写作和艺术创作的交叉点)方法论的支持下(Irwin & de Cosson, 2004),我借鉴了a/r/tography as m<s:1> tissage (Irwin, 2004)理论,这是一种“关系美学探究”方法(Leggo, Sinner, Irwin, Pantaleo, Gouzouasis, & Grauer, 2011, p. 239)。这使我能够探究当代艺术实践如何超越文化资本(布迪厄,1991),超越为艺术而艺术——以“以艺术为基础的研究人员经常解释他们的工作,并提供线索,说明如何解读他们与社会科学的关系”(Cahnmann-Taylor & Siegesmund, 2008, p. 234)的方式。自我反省发生在一个更大的交换系统中。它包括“与他人的关系;同时,它又构成了与世界的关系”(Bourriaud, 2002, p. 53)。伴随着我母亲和祖母的故事,对艺术变革力量的探究展开了。我期待以艺术为基础的a/r/tography的研究方法,因为作为一个跨学科的艺术家/研究者/教师,关系社会实践可以通过各种各样的材料进行探究,包括“叙事写作、自传、舞蹈和运动、读者戏剧、多媒体、超文本、视觉艺术、摄影、音乐、诗歌和创造性非小说(以及其他)”(Sinner, Leggo, Irwin, Gouzouasis, & Grauer, 2006, p. 1248)。 我用不同的艺术形式来解构我沉默的血统,我问:“我自己做的过程”(De Cosson, 2004, p. 132)是如何允许声音和幽灵出现的?工作室和艺术展览
An A/r/tographic Inquiry of a Silenced First Nation Ancestry, Hauntology, G(hosts) and Art(works): An Exhibition Catalogue.
As a hauntological artist, I deconstruct my silenced First Nation Wolastoqiyik (Maliseet) ancestry and look towards the intergenerational narratives of my grandmother, mother, and I. Employing the methodology of a/r/tography, the intersection of autobiography and art-making, I utilize diverse art forms to find that g(hosts) reside amongst spaces of liminality. Supported by the methodology of a/r/tography and drawing upon works, which blur the boundary between past and present, self and other, I deconstruct the silencing of my First Nation lineage by creating three art(works). These art(works) are placed within an exhibition catalogue and inquire into 1) the specters that loom between the evocative objects of our narratives, 2) how script-writing and the script’s performance can reveal ghosts in IJEA Vol. 17 No. 30 http://www.ijea.org/v17n30/ 2 spaces of liminality, and 3) how sculptures facilitate spectral movement. Each individual art(work) plays a role in breaking the silence. A(wake), specters arise. When I was a child, people often asked me if I was First Nation or “an Indian”. I suppose it was because my skin was darker. I practically lived outside. Sun drenched, my hair was long, going down to my elbows, at times. In response though, I always told them that there was no relation. When I was ten years old, a neighbour brought me to the Odawa Pow Wow. I remember dancing in the circle with everyone. I remember flowing bodies, the trees, the campsite around us, the feathers, the beading–the sense that people were coming together to experience this relationality as drumming and dancing filled the space with colour and movement. The circle was alive with the dynamic motion that everybody brought forth. I thought about the experience a lot afterwards, and grew up to have an expanding interest in Aboriginal knowledge and education. Then, in 2007 as I was making a film with my grandmother and mother, I learned that my grandmother’s grandfather was First Nation. I learned that my grandmother only found out when she was thirty years old, that the ancestry was silenced by the family. I knew a lot about First Nations history, the historical Cloutier: An A/r/tographic Inquiry 3 trauma that comes with it, but I was not prepared to be so close to that history. How was I to proceed? My great great grandfather was born of the Wolastoqiyik (Maliseet) Peoples. As an a/r/tographer (Irwin, 2004; Irwin & de Cosson, 2004; Springgay, Irwin, & Kind, 2005; Springgay, Irwin, Leggo, & Gouzouasis, 2008), I am struck by a destabilizing hauntology, a haunted (non)presence whereupon the past permeates the present (Derrida, 1994). Workingtowards breaking the silence through art, I consider what is outside language and objects to find that ghosts reside amongst spaces of liminality. Intergenerational narratives concerning a silenced First Nation ancestry are deconstructed within a continuum of time that connects the past with the present, and into the future. A silencing stirs. Towards a Theoretical Blueprint for Living in My Haunted House While supported by a/r/tography, I dedicate myself to an emergent journey through art and text, and look towards creating a theoretical blueprint for living in my haunted house. Considering how the intergenerational narratives of my silenced Wolastoqiyik lineage affect me as an a/r/tographer, I am drawn towards a ghostly relationality. I place myself amongst the movement that I experience as I break the silence of my First Nations ancestry. This spectral movement occurs through art and is beyond the self; it is a hauntology, a haunted ontology, a displaced voice. Through a/r/tography, I work towards including “voices in research that may not otherwise be heard (Sinner, Leggo, Irwin, Gouzouasis, & Grauer, 2006, p. 1249), and consider how inquiring into the intergenerational narratives have emphasized a multiplicity of subjectivities, emerging, still. Through a/r/tography, with the many voices around me, I draw on works which blur the boundaries of self and other, past and present (Bhabha, 1994; Chambers, 1994; Derrida, 1994, 1997; Aoki, 1993, 2003), because within the scope of narratives, “disjunctive temporalities” (Bhabha, 1994, p. 254) remind us that we are always being haunted by the past – with that, I reflect on how I do not want to privilege presence over absence (Aoki, 2003, p. 3). Drawing from these philosophical notions, and supported by the methodology of a/r/tography, I deconstruct the silencing of my First Nation lineage at sites of liminality. Liminality, while blurring presence and absence, resides amongst intertextual spaces of ambiguity (Hurren, 2003). I think about how “artists, researchers, and teachers can linger in the liminal spaces of unknowing/knowing” through their art practices (Leggo, Sinner, Irwin, Pantaleo, Gouzouasis & Grauer, 2011, pp. 239–240). Through the layered, interwoven, and at times fragmented identities of artist/researcher/teacher, I experience liminality–between these blurred identities. Through intertextual spaces, and experiencing movement through artmaking, I think about the liminal space of being dislocated while “maintaining a spectral IJEA Vol. 17 No. 30 http://www.ijea.org/v17n30/ 4 presence” (Palulis, 2003, p. 269). I think about how the specter, too, resonates with and blurs the distinction between presence and absence, because the spectre is neither present nor absent– “the specter is the future, it is always to come, it presents itself only as that which could come or come back; in the future” (Derrida, 1994, p. 48). The specter is not present, and “this non-presence of the specter demands that one take its times and its history into consideration” (Ibid, p. 126). In this way, the specter of my silenced First Nation lineage is one of my hauntologies–haunting me, still. I work through this haunting via “the methodological concepts of contiguity, living inquiry, openings, metaphor/metonymy, reverberations and excess” (Irwin & Sinner, 2013, p. ii). Through a/r/tography, I present and perform my experiences of liminality and spectrality as I displace meaning through art-making. There is a blurring of presence and absence– through metonymic moments: a “tensioned space of ambiguity, ambivalence, and uncertainty” (Aoki, 1999, p. 181). This is reflected photographically in my work, in the conflation of the dream catcher, rosary and the Eiffel Tower, hence alluding to our nation’s troubled colonial history. Like de Cosson (2008), “I choose these symbols to wrestle with, to play with, in a tangled dance of metaphor and metonymic spaces to crack some new space of seeing, of learning” (p. 285). My (death)less silenced First Nation lineage haunts me, and makes me aware that “the dead can often be more powerful than the living” (Derrida, 1994, p. 48). Reflecting on the historical trauma that Canada has experienced, I look towards Dalene Swanson (2008), and I too believe that “we need to seek out the phantoms of the other that haunts us, and that a passion for justice means interlocuting with ghosts” (p. 185). Moreover, I consider haunting as a metaphor as it “can be an empowering literary and artistic trope that can evoke trauma, loss, rupture, recovery, healing and wisdom. It is also, at its core, political. It provokes (and insists upon) questions about ownership, entitlement, dispossession, and voice” (Goldman & Saul, 2006, p. 44). In this way, as the tension between presence and absence is explored, the notion of hauntological relationships, framed by a/r/tography, is understood via lived experience and political manifestations affected by real work conditions and struggles over knowledge and resources, as you shall see through my art practice. A/r/tography as an emergent method Through art-making, I “remain flexible and open to modifications” (Hesse-Biber & Leavy, 2008, p. 3). I let the material and the ghosts speak to me. Artistic processes are emergent by nature, after all. Like Indigenous artist and activist Jimmie Durham (1993), I believe that the “visual arts are complex and sociable, not controllable” (p. 251). My art, my research, is emergent by nature. Emerging, still: I think about how “the researcher and the research are part of an intricate dance that is always evolving” (Sinner, Leggo, Irwin, Gouzouasis, & Cloutier: An A/r/tographic Inquiry 5 Grauer, 2006, p. 1242). Supported by the methodology of a/r/tography, the intersection of autobiographical writing and art-making (Irwin & de Cosson, 2004), I draw on theory as a/r/tography as métissage (Irwin, 2004), a method of “relational aesthetic inquiry” (Leggo, Sinner, Irwin, Pantaleo, Gouzouasis, & Grauer, 2011, p. 239). This allows me to inquire into how contemporary art practices can go beyond cultural capital (Bourdieu, 1991), beyond art for art’s sake– in the way that “arts-based researchers often explain their work and offer cues as to how to read their representations in relationship to social science” (Cahnmann-Taylor & Siegesmund, 2008, p. 234). Self reflection occurs under a larger system of exchange. It involves “a relationship with the other; at the same time, it constitutes a relationship with the world” (Bourriaud, 2002, p. 53). Alongside my mother and grandmother’s stories, an inquiry into art’s transformative power unfolds. I look towards the arts-based research methodology of a/r/tography, because as an interdisciplinary artist/researcher/teacher, relational social practices can be inquired into via a wide variety of material, including “narrative writing, autobiography, dance and movement, readers theatre, multi-media, hypertext, visual arts, photography, music, poetry, and creative non-fiction (among others)” (Sinner, Leggo, Irwin, Gouzouasis, & Grauer, 2006, p. 1248). Employing diverse art forms to work through and deconstruct my silenced lineage, I ask: How does “the process of my own doing” (De Cosson, 2004, p. 132) allow voices and specters to appear? The Studio and an Art Exhibit