Experimental Jetset’s second volume in its self-reflective series is an inquiry into the role of the city as an infrastructure for language and vice versa, seen through the lens of four significant movements: Constructivism, Situationist International, Provo, and Post-Punk. Emerging from a research project and exhibition by the design studio, the book features extensive footnotes by 20 guest authors, including Linda van Deursen, Owen Hatherley, Adam Pendleton, Simon Reynolds, Lori Waxman, Mimi Zeiger, and others. An added bonus: it comes with a 26-page zine, zooming in on the design typology of the original exhibition.
sobretot m'ha agradat molt l'estructura del llibre i la seva manera de presentar els coneixements. Crec que se m'ha fet massa breu i m'agradaria que m'expliquessin més coses però molt original i fàcil de llegir i seguir :)
Four vignettes across four historical movements: here are cities read as texts, or at least discursively bound _to_ texts, whether idealist or utopian imaginings of possible futures, insurgent reconfigurations of existing material conditions, or the active deconstruction of the cosmopolitan order. Experimental Jetset's primary concern in retelling the stories of these four movments (Constructionists, Situationists, Provo, and Post-punk) seems to be their different figurations of the city as at least a venue for - if not being one in itself - the proliferation and dispersal of texts, and the various modes and intents with hijacking this potential that emerged in the pursuit of their respective movement's ends. And, despite conjuring four movements which are, decidedly, dead and buried - whether due to violent rupture, waning interest and expiration, tactical self-termination, or, frankly, boredom - the book itself is quite provocative (provo-cative?) in the questions it platforms about movement as/and inscription within the city, the limits of spatial literacy, the diaspora of texts which occupy and furnish the city, and the implications of what and how we process the city as readers traveling the pages of its realised blueprints. It tracks, in a way, that EJ is a design collective: their proficiency with exchanging figures, forms, tracings, maps, blueprints, sculptures, monuments and so forth, both theoretical and concrete is undeniable, and, honestly, wonderful to read. The design of the book itself is delightful as well, and very citylike (the constant flipping through footnotes reminded me a little of Infinite Jest - which was referenced therein - and House of Leaves, the book which is a house - which wasn't). In particular, the clusters of footnotes on the same sets of words felt like being at a crossroads, spilling off from one street into a multitude of directions. Or, in another reading, like a different set of noticings along a shared route. With this in mind, I found the reading experience rather generative.
But, I cannot say that it didn't leave me feeling at least a little unsatisfied. Though there were many alleys and side-streets to explore throughout the text, many splitting off into other directions, the linearity of the reading exprience troubled the sense of the text as a city which it was clear EJ seemed to be striving for: all too often, what seemed like a passageway turned out to be a dead end. This quality interrupted the pleasure of the "drifting [dérive]" experience. I almost feel like if some of the footnotes referenced one another, or images from the visual archive, or if the two of these were interspersed amongst the text as "optional routes," that would have given the reader a sense of cohesion/circulation within the text-city. Moreover, its borders seemed locked shut: a skimpy citational practice left very few thresholds to leave the text-city in search of others, and very few places available towards which to depart! And, in some places, the text-city became a venue for its collaborators (the authors, artists, activists who layed down the sometimes brilliant, sometimes quizzical, sometimes indifferent footnotes) to become self-referential, encouraging some kind of commercial text-tourism in recommending their own work.
I imagine this structural linearity is partly on account of EJ's text-city's foundations as an exhibit: even in an open concept, there is still an implicitly sequential order of operations, and with the textual nooks and crannies constituted by the footnotes were inscribed in post, their tacked-on dead-end-edness feels like a natural consequence.
To end on a more positive note: what a fantastic compiled archive! As one footnote points out, there is a kind of incredible symbiotic relationship between activists and archivists: each provide the other with a fount of resources, trajectories, and inspiration. This collection is no different. It is generative, informative, critical, an assembly of a long and disconnected lineage of protest movements, architectural utopias, and the many intersections between.