(2/2) “If It’s Love, It Must Work Out:” Pedro Costa’s Vitalina Varela and Modes of Hauntology

A post by Edward Guetti

**This is the latter part of the article, with the preceding component coming before.

Finding a Home, Putting Words to Rest

The character of Vitalina in Cavalo Dinheiro reminds Ventura not only of his neglected obligations to his wife, but she also reminds Ventura of his role, in Cavalo Dinheiro, of bringing about the despair that killed Joaquim. Only after reciting letters from official bodies, detailing information related to the burial of her husband, her birth, her marriage, all of which cannot approach a truthful account of her situation, does she put to Ventura the claim that he had brought ruin to her and Joaquim by cutting Joaquim’s arm during a fight so as to render it paralyzed. It is impossible to tell if this same accusation carries over into VV, as the circumstances surrounding Joaquim’s death in VV do not mention any sort of paralysis, and Ventura is a different avatar of the Ventura character. What further complicates or blurs the distinction between the movies is Ventura’s (i.e., the actor’s) presence as the priest of an empty church. This priest, too, is fleeing a personal shame from Cape Verde (related to his refusal to baptize or bless a group of people who are shortly killed in a gruesome car crash). The priest passes his time alternating between repeating certain phrases to himself or beseeching God to cast His eyes to the “shadows.” In many ways, it is not obvious that Ventura-as-a-Priest is meant to be a different character than, say, the Ventura of Juventude em Marcha.

(1/2) “If It’s Love, It Must Work Out:” Pedro Costa’s Vitalina Varela and Modes of Hauntology

A post by Edward Guetti

Pedro Costa’s most recent movie, Vitalina Varela (2019), begins with a slow procession of a funeral cortège that emerges from the almost total darkness of an alleyway bordering a cemetery wall. The priest, whether from exhaustion or the tremors that constantly shake his hands, is shown collapsed on the sidewalk. The audience, like Vitalina, has arrived too late to see the funeral service, and the priest’s exhaustion provokes the question how many dead have been buried in this dark night. In a recent interview with Film Comment, Costa himself describes the lives of those who are the subjects of his Cape Verdean movies as condemned long before they were born. But Costa’s Cape Verdean films are not simplified allegories of colonial violence or of damaged life in relation to this superhuman inheritance. There is nothing so abstract or diagnostic in these movies, and Vitalina Varela (‘VV’), in particular, represents a crowning achievement of this series not only because it takes up the perspective of a woman as exemplary as Mrs. Varela, but, uniquely in this series, VV celebrates the autonomy of its protagonist. But to see this autonomy rightly, we will need to contrast this against the primarily male dynamic of the earlier films in this series that begins with Casa de Lava (1994), and re-commences in the third film of his Cartas de Fontainhas trilogy, Juventude em Marcha [Colossal Youth] (2006), the short film Tarrafal (2007), and the precursor to VV, Cavalo Dinheiro [Horse Money] (2014) in which Mrs. Varela made her debut as herself.

(2/2) Specters in the Computer: A Hauntological Interpretation of Vaporwave

A post by Borna Šućurović

**This is the latter part of the article; the former comes before.

Fisher's Intervention: Lost Futures and the Spectral Not Yet

Before we bring Derrida's hauntology in connection with vaporwave it is important to note two additional points, the first of which has to do with terminology. Throughout the French original of the Specters of Marx Derrida uses two 'names' for specters: la spectre and le revenant. While the former tries to express at once all of the properties explained in the previous chapter, the latter places particular emphasis on the reversible function of spectral existents. Le revenant – in both French and English languages – denotes a 'returning ghost', one who returns from somewhere. By using this name Derrida is attempting to show how specters return into temporal planes they do not belong to and within which certain forms of the work of mourning are already underway. As Merlin Coverley writes in the third chapter of his Hauntology;

(1/2) Specters in the Computer: A Hauntological Interpretation of Vaporwave

A post by Borna Šućurović

Introduction

 

On February 29th, 2016 a video entitled S U N D A Y S C H O O L was uploaded to YouTube and quickly became known as one of the first examples of what has since been dubbed simpsonwave. The video follows Bart Simpson's time spent going to Sunday school and getting to know Jessica, the daughter of reverend Lovejoy with whom he falls unhappily in love. While these events are taking place, the song Teen Pregnancy by Blank Banshee – in which an androgynous voice repeats the phrases "I'm just a kid" and "It was just a little mistake" over the beats of synthesizer-infused music – is playing in the background. A VHS filter is present throughout the entire duration of the video, giving off the impression that the footage was saved from a video cassette from the mid-1990s and subsequently digitized.

"Minny don’t burn chicken": humour, hauntology, and fried chicken stereotype

A jubilant International Women's Day post by Sheng-Hsiang Lance Peng

In the 2011 period drama film, The Help, there is a memorable scene where Celia and Minny share a meal at the same table. This scene marks the beginning of their budding friendship, as Minny teaches Celia how to cook. However, there is a humorous twist when Celia, who hired Minny as help without her husband’s knowledge (though he was actually aware), jokingly suggests that she might overcook the chicken. Minny, in a somber manner, responds with, "Minny don’t burn chicken". This engaging and witty exchange serves as a captivating starting point to explore the historical significance of fried chicken through the lens of hauntology (Derrida, 1994), looking into the persistence of past cultural phenomena in the present and uncovering hidden layers of meaning within its history.

What is hauntology? art history at Halloween

A post by Amelia Carruthers

As we approach officially the spookiest time of the year, I am putting a spotlight on one of my favourite terms in Art Theory – Hauntology. Aside from the wonderful name, Hauntology is a fascinating concept, with wide-ranging applications across philosophy, sociology, music, history, art history…. and just about any academic or cultural topic you can think of.

Hauntology and imagination in Troye Sivan’s Got Me Started music video

A post by Sheng-Hsiang Lance Peng

Hess (2021) contends that critical reconstructionism and abolitionism prompt us to critically assess and change the conditions influencing our lives, whether through reform, transformation, or abolition. This transformative endeavour involves envisioning alternatives that diverge significantly from the current path shaped by converging crises. Music can deeply contribute to this imaginative process by encouraging us to perceive things differently, overcome limitations in understanding others, and engage in “freedom dreaming” (p. 273), a belief that dreaming is imperative for societal transformation, recognising that having a vision for the future not only informs present actions but also shapes society’s trajectory. Using this reconstructive standpoint prompts us to acknowledge that the evocative influence of music videos surpasses mere entertainment.

GHOSTLY NEWSFLASH ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ

Soon-to-be-published articles

🕸 A written contribution by Linh Trinh

🕸 A composition from Rory Hutchings

🕸 An article by Yana Naidenov exploring hauntology in relation to the quantum imaginary in technological mediation

🕸 A piece of writing from Olivia Poppe

Journey into the chiaroscuro: launching note

In the yore’s embrace, shadows convene,
Chiaroscuro and hauntology, unseen.
Echoes of epochs, in twilight’s cascade,
Whispers of yesteryears, in ghostly charade.