At the opening of knowledge
anja quinn
A dissection of the structures which create a certain space requires the asking of a peculiar question: what exists in the spaces which do not physically exist? Perhaps this is not clear, and if this is the case I will reply ‘good’, for the journey we are commencing in (Re)Structures Of Feeling is not in itself particularly clear; it is the ability to recognise that what lies within a space extends beyond the physical into history, temporality, politics, community, and even being itself. This is when one arrives at the structures of feeling, and there exist no rules on how to engage with them: theories and understandings of structures of feeling are varied, and so are the feelings felt in response to a particular space or infrastructure. What I argue is that it is important we are aware that they exist, for without them, a space is at risk of becoming simply another area which is calculated, bureaucratised, and used for exchange value. While Goldsmiths is threatened to become such a space through the Transformation Programme, an awareness of the very feelings of the university’s infrastructure which are vulnerable to such a change is vital if we are to seek what Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak calls the aesthetic education.[1] As I looked within the infrastructures of feeling at Goldsmiths, I found myself continuously arriving at the same punctum (to borrow a true word of feeling from Barthes)[2], that of the idea of the space itself. I hoped to find something beyond the campus, beyond the banality of everyday life, something which grasped at that which does not sit on a regular campus map, that which embodies both the personal and the shared experience of being a part of Goldsmiths, University of London. With this in mind, we shall take a short series of conceptual steps through the entrance of the university and into its beyond to touch upon these ideas. They do not seek to do more than briefly pursue some different ways of interacting with the university, and hopefully raise some further questions. Please take them as you will.
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The entrance as punctum
We begin with our first step: the entrance as punctum. In Camera Lucida, Roland Barthes explores the photograph as something more than simply a photograph. It is, rather, the capturing of a lived moment in time cast into being, a moment which can be replayed and examined in detail. The content or memory associated with a photograph may cause an intense emotional response, often through what Barthes calls the punctum: a subjective encounter with an element in the photograph which enables a unique reading and understanding of it. Considering this, as we return our attention to the above, the entrance of the university campus acts as a punctum of sorts, a spot on the map which allows or denies entry, where each person venturing through the gates will encounter their own subjective experience.
For me, it was not until I stepped beyond the entrance gates as a student that I suddenly became aware of the fact that I was now part of an institution I had wanted to belong to for many years. Frustrated with years of corporate work which I felt destroyed the creativity of myself and those around me, the feeling of stepping into a space designed for learning, producing knowledge, and creating art was overwhelmingly refreshing. I imagine many others have felt something similar. However, the beauty of the punctum is that it is ever-evolving and differs in the eye of the beholder. Almost one year into my course, Goldsmiths has become for me a point of confidence, enjoyment, and a moment to step into a world without the boundaries that hold me back in my working life. It has also become a source of disappointment and anger as I have learned about the callous decisions to ‘transform’ the university by those who have their own distinct relationships to it. It has since also become a point of community, shared anguish, and resistance. Yet still, on the days I am on campus, I like to take the long way round through the main gates since they remind me of the first time I stepped through them.
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The entrance as unconcealing
In our second conceptual step, we consider the entrance as something which conceals and unconceals. Imagine a shroud hanging over the doorway. Once we move it aside and step through, that which is behind it is revealed, it is open.[3] That which is open is not the same for everybody, for the way in which a person experiences a space will differ depending on who they are and what is accessible to them, but also how the space presents itself to them and, thus, equally presents an effect on their identity. For the student, one could consider the parts of the university that are unconcealed to them as those which they interact with or which benefit their education, such as lecture theatres, spaces for socialising, and student unions. This then varies from department to department, from undergraduate to postgraduate, and so on. The student is not only experiencing the university in a different way, but the university is also shaping the way in which they act as a student. This experience is different to that of the teacher, the cleaner, or even the passer-by.
Let us consider the latter, for at the entrance there is not only the beyond, but also the before. To some, an educational institution such as Goldsmiths is indeed a shrouded figure which only reveals itself to those who are welcome to step beyond its outer fabric. Standing in the midst of a corner of London in which 35.2% of nineteen-year-olds do not hold a level three qualification (almost ten percent higher than the London average),[4] the university is a reminder of a division of opportunities. This is a microcosm of a wider problem at work, for Goldsmiths ranks lower compared to other London universities which, on paper, produce better students. This idea of ‘better’ tends to be linked to employability, a high number of finance and business-related courses, and, as a result, increased private funding. With its arts and humanities heavy prospectus, Goldsmiths contributes to Spivak’s aesthetic education which, for her, is a growing necessity in the age of globalisation in late capitalism.[5] A university that challenges the development of global capital and instead places value on critical thinking, artistic practices, and the open sharing of knowledge challenges the very structures which run the organisation and aim to produce ‘better students’. It is more important than ever for people to take a step into the open of an aesthetic education. In a somewhat utopian idea, with time this could lead to a wider sharing of critical knowledge and a lower percentage of less educated young people, but, as we are doing here, one step must be taken at a time.
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The entrance as virtual
In our final step, we enter the virtual world which contains within it a less definable part of Goldsmiths. It would be reasonable to believe that the spatial bounds of the university outline the perimeter of the campus, yet, in The Production of Space Henri Lefebvre develops the concept that ‘space’ is a human creation as opposed to a naturally occurring phenomenon (here, one can think of cities, offices, homes, or even countries), and so the boundaries of a space can be complex in their definition.[6] An omnipresent space which is ever-emerging is that of the virtual, and its impact on educational spaces is, ironically, immeasurable.[7] Unmarked on a map, Goldsmiths’ online learning presence takes the (non-exhaustive) form of the Virtual Learning Environment (VLE), email, digital submission and feedback portals, Zoom meetings, and occasionally the (unapologetically Foucauldian) Panopto – a software for recording and sharing lectures online.[8] Coupled with the strengthening of Goldsmiths as an online brand with its website, social media, and communications, stepping into the university is not limited to walking through its physical gates. What do we find at this entrance as opposed to our previous two? It is worth considering two sides of the coin.
In a positive light, the online shift allows for a greater distribution of the ethos of Goldsmiths; wider awareness creates a more diverse and international student population, and the accessibility of information on the Goldsmiths website provides vast amounts of information at the click of a button anywhere in the world. Students who cannot attend lectures in person can still engage virtually, and communication is made transportable through discussion forums and email threads. However, on the other side, our step into the virtual risks losing the very feeling which we are advocating for here. The digital boom aligns with the upsurge of global capitalism and excessive consumption. There seems to be a rise in the discussion that degrees are treated increasingly as commodities, and the ease of purchasing and completing an education largely online seems to promote such an idea. As we begin to lose the connection to physical place, each other, and a more intentional way of learning (for instance, through books and writing by hand), the difficulties that emerge with 24/7 global capitalism begin to manifest in the world of education; students are at risk of feeling alienated, uninspired, and disconnected. Considering this, the Transformation Programme begins to appear as something of a symptom of this wider change. As the university functions increasingly like a business, it feels inevitable that such a calculated ‘efficient’ plan would be executed to trim down the supposed excess of the oiled machine. Our project contributes to Goldsmiths’ digital space, this is not lost on us. We hope it serves as inspiration to pay close attention to how we use the spaces which have been created for us, and so allow us to see the powers at play within the structures and how they can be resisted. Go carefully, step intentionally.
A comparison of the Goldsmiths entrance many decades apart. Photos provided by Goldsmiths.
[1] Spivak, 2012.
[2] Barthes, 1993.
[3] Heidegger, 1962. See also Agamben, 2002. The unconcealing of the open is a concept of Martin Heidegger’s: being in the world is the concealing/unconcealing of what constitutes our lifeworld, or, that which is present and open to us gives being. For our short visit here, we shall just tread lightly with this concept.
[4] https://trustforlondon.org.uk/data/boroughs/lewisham-poverty-and-inequality-indicators/
[5] Spivak, 2012.
[6] Lefebvre, 1974.
[7] I say it is ironic, for the move to virtual spaces tends be in line with the idea of progressing towards a more calculated and efficient way of working.
[8] A further discussion on Panopto as a dispositif would be an interesting one.
References
Agamben, Giorgio. 2002. The Open: Man and Animal. California: Stanford University Press.
Barthes, R. 1993. Camera Lucida. London: Vintage Classics.
Heidegger, Martin. 1962. Being and Time. New York: Harper & Row.
Lefebvre, Henri. 1974. The Production of Space. New Jersey: Wiley-Blackwell:.
Spivak, Gayatri Chakravorty. 2012. An Aesthetic Education in the Era of Globalization. Cambridge: Harvard University Press.
