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Adam: I have been fascinated by Foucault’s discussion of
heterotopic spaces ever since I first read it a few years back. There are a few
major issues that I would like us to try to work through with regards to
theorizing heterotopias. First, I want to question whether or not the existence
of heterotopic space is (at least in part) a function of the conditions of our
modern/postmodern society. I know Foucault argues that heterotopias have
existed in various cultures and times, but I wonder if perhaps the question of
the heterotopia is somehow given emphasis in (post)modernity. For example, in
his discussion of crisis heterotopias and heterotopias of deviation, Foucault seems
to recognize a switch brought about by changes in how society views and
controls deviance. If you go from a disciplinary framework to a control
framework (as theorized by Deleuze), does this specifically (post)modern switch
effect how we view the heterotopia in general?

Secondly, I want to push back against Foucault’s argument
that heterotopias represent a system of opening and closing, (im)penetrability.
I’m especially unsure about this argument in lieu of the discussion of the
mirror as heterotopia (and here, let’s ignore its potential identification with
utopic space). I’m not sure I see a way in which the mirror reflects the
question of opening/closing – specifically relating to access. The mirror
doesn’t require compulsory entry (like the prison) or rituals of purification –
unless you consider the ubiquity of mirrored surfaces a form of compulsion to
engage with these spaces. Perhaps the mirror as heterotopia relies less on a
physical opening/closing and more on a psychic penetration/isolation. What do
other people think of how the mirror affects Foucault’s arguments about
opening/closing?

Finally, is there a way that we can theorize a heterotopic
body? Perhaps by considering Edensor’s spectral/ghostly bodily presences in the
ruins of factories or Trigg’s example of people who challenge Merleau-Ponty’s ‘absolute
here’?

Posted at Nov 16/2011 05:21PM:
Morgan Albertson: What I find interesting about a ruin is how it's an abandoned space simply left to decay. Edensor describes the site of a ruin as "unregulated" and with "no present function." I'm wondering why these once valuable locations are left alone for so long? What is it about a ruin that creates this untouchable space, kept from redevelopment? How does this relate to Trigg's argument about the ruin and places of trauma. He states "appearance of the ruin allows us to approach the spatio-temporality of trauma in terms of a logic of hauntings and voids (87)." Is it necessary to leave sites of trauma untouched in order for memory to form and be articulated? Trigg discusses whether history and memory of a place "slide into obscurity" when a place is erased or reconfigured (95). Is there a way to negotiate this tension between ruins from the past and buildings of the future?

Edensor describes how the social production of memory becomes externalized when exposed to "commodification, legislation, and the production of nostalgia" which in turn "makes the old into a specific spectacle, as it does with all exoticism (126)." How do ruins work within or outside of this framework? Expanding on previous weeks discussions it seems that by their very nature, ruins are authentic, they are sites without time or space, true markers of the past. But how do ruins exist in the modern world? Today do industrial ruins truly give us a snapshot into that urban time and place? Are we actively constructing inauthenticity by manipulating these markers of the past?

More broadly, throughout the semester we have discussed space and structure as often being perceived as stable places to store or hold memory however it is evident that they are constantly subject to manipulation. I'm intrigued by what effects intentional or unintentional manipulation of space/structure has on memory?

Posted at Nov 16/2011 09:15PM:
Alyssa Thelemaque: Foucault talks about heterotopias of illusion and heterotopias of compensation--with both extremes having a "function in relation to all the space that remains." I'm interested by the fact that Foucault chose the boat as the "greatest reserve of the imagination" and the "heterotopia par excellence." Did he choose this because it's a means of traveling between two locations? But what makes the boat the ideal heterotopia and how do the other 5 principles that he outlined apply to a boat? And do these claims only refer to a boat out at sea rather than when it is docked?

I also liked the idea that an aspect of memory is lost when language intervenes--especially since this highlights its mutable and unstable nature. With our collective and individual identities and our relations to place and history being partially defined by narratives (Edensor 160), how are we affected by this?

Emily McCartan I am interested in how this week's readings intersect with last week's commentaries on spolia. What happens when ruins (or the fragmented remains of old buildings) are incorporated into the fabric of contemporary architecture? Do heterotopias rely on their status as taboo space? If a building or landscape includes a ruin as a figural or structural part of spaces and structures used in the everyday world, what does that imply about social attitudes towards the past the ruin represents? Comfort? Control or manipulation? Does it diminish the ruin's impact as a way of connecting imaginatively with the past, or does it make the past more concretely present in the current moment?

Posted at Nov 16/2011 11:04PM:
alex: The readings this week have illustrated the powerful memory function of ruins. They act as a way to memorialize the lives of those who inhabited the space and surrounding area. However, they are ultimately taking up space in which active buildings could be built. What, in the end, should we do with ruins?

Edenser states, “the past has become ever closer as more recent events are repackaged to become the focus of nostalgic consumption” (128). Since the past is getting closer and closer to the present, do we crave more structures, monuments, etc. to memorialize the past? Since ruins act as a “pure” type of memorial, are these dilapidated spaces worth protecting and preserving to help satisfy our need to memorialize? Are they the answer to representing the “other’s” voice in an elitist world?

However, it is certainly true that we can’t save everything. Our population continues to grow and expand, and space is valuable. Who decides what ruins to preserve? How do certain ruins continue to survive despite the lack of intervention to protect them? And, in the end, if the decision is made to “protect” a ruin, does it remain a “pure” form of memorialization or, instead, is it clouded by those who designated it for memorial status?

Posted at Nov 17/2011 12:03AM:
Mo: Foucault’s second principle states: “A society, as its history unfolds, can make an existing heterotopia function in a very different fashion; for each heterotopia has a precise and determined function in society and the same heterotopia can, according to the to the synchrony of the culture in which it occurs, have one function or another. “ To illustrate this, he offers the example of cemeteries; while they were once situated at the heart of a city near its churches, after the eighteenth century, they made the shift to the suburbs as their association with disease became more prevalent. Instead of their previous “sacred and immortal” value, they became “dark resting places.” I’m interested in discussing the progression of heterotopias and spaces in terms of functionality, whether that means stigmatization or a bolster in reputation (for example, perhaps psychiatric wards). What can change how a heterotopia functions in a society? Is it often gradual? Or can particularly strong societal conditions alter its function abruptly?

Posted at Nov 17/2011 01:58AM:
Mariagrazia: Edensor writes, "Memories do not merely invoke the past. They contain a still and seemingly quiescent presence, and they also suggest forebodings, pointing to a future erasure and subsequently, the reproduction of space, thus conveying a sense of the transience of all space." The question was raised in class on Tuesday about ruins as material reminders of the ephemeral nature of society, yet they also in this way may serve as didactic harbingers, warning against mistakes. In what instances does it serve us as a society to maintain ruins? Consider, for instance, the Hiroshima Memorial, which at once preserves a site of trauma, but offers a pedagogical look at the very real dangers and outcomes of nuclear warfare. Does or should one ever take precedence over the other? In continuing our conversations on monuments, in the case of a space (specifically, a ruin) of trauma, where do we find the balance between healing, commemorating, and preserving? Where does Edensor's idea of "foreboding" fit in this plan?

I am also intrigued by the opening passage of his youth and his conversation about the mystery and intrigue of ruins for children who are frequently enraptured by adventure tales. Thinking about this anecdote has reminded me of the many fantasy stories I read as a child where ruins or abandoned structures or otherwise mysterious/secret spaces play prominently. How does this naive engagement with ruins fit in with the notion of a heterotopia, or not? By decontextualizing a ruin, as a child might do, what kind of heterotopia is created, if any?