Votre recherche

This dissertation is about gay and lesbian film festivals, the first of which was founded in San Francisco in 1977 and subsequently served as a model for their international proliferation over the next thirty years. While the films programmed in these festivals have received a great deal of attention from scholars and critics, the festival institution itself has received less consideration. This dissertation narrates the history of gay and lesbian film festivals through an economic lens, asking how fundraising practices have been deployed in the community building projects of festivals, how the administrative structures of festivals as nonprofit organizations have been leveraged by the state toward the management of new social movements, and how these nonprofits have participated in the identification and cultivation of populations as niche markets by the commercial sector. This historical schema will offer an alternative model for understanding queer image production, not through a textual analysis of those images, but through an examination of the material circumstances of their circulation and distribution. This dissertation is not simply about the ways that community organizations like film festivals have been strategically engaged by the state and the market in the management and exploitation of gays and lesbians, it argues that gays and lesbians themselves have articulated their politics, artistic practice, and discourse of community within (and against) the parameters defined by the demands of organizational sustainability. Furthermore, this dissertation will illustrate why taking economic activity seriously as a part of the material practices of queer image production answers crucial questions about the ways that sexuality operates as a category of governance. The history of gay and lesbian film festivals, and their regulation through the administrative structures of the nonprofit sector, is part of a much larger history of political struggle and the development of new social movements over the past three decades.

This chapter provides a description and critical analysis of Noah’s Arc , a Logo cable television series featuring a predominantly African American gay male cast. Queer theory and quare studies are used as theoretical tools to examine the conceptions of blackness in general, as well as representations of blackness in Noah’s Arc . Thereafter this chapter turns to an analysis of the representations in this series to illustrate how Noah’s Arc not only queers and quares notions of authentic blackness but also serves to expand various notions of blackness. Finally, this chapter provides a treatment of how whiteness and heteronormativity are implicated in this recent iteration of a racialized queer visibility in popular culture.

Fusing audience research and ethnography, the book presents a compelling account of women's changing lives and identities in relation to the impact of the most popular media culture in everyday life: television. Within the historically-specific social conditions of Korean modernity, Youna Kim analyzes how Korean women of varying age and class group cope with the new environment of changing economical structure and social relations. The book argues that television is an important resource for women, stimulating them to research their own lives and identities. Youna Kim reveals Korean women as creative, energetic and critical audiences in their responses to evolving modernity and the impact of the West. Based on original empirical research, the book explores the hopes, aspirations, frustrations and dilemmas of Korean women as they try to cope with life beyond traditional grounds. Going beyond the traditional Anglo-American view of media and culture, this text will appeal to students and scholars of both Korean area studies and media and communications studies.

This paper is based on ongoing research into the gendered use of mobile convergent media in the Asia-Pacific region. In particular, what role does the cute have and how does it correlate with types of consumption? As a region, the Asia-Pacific is marked by diverse penetration rates, subject to local cultural and socio-economic nuances. Two defining locations - Seoul (South Korea) and Tokyo (Japan) - are seen as both mobile centres and gaming centres which the world looks towards as examples of the future-in-the-present. Unlike Japan, which pioneered the keitai (mobile) IT revolution with devices such as i-mode, South Korea has become a centre for mobile DMB (Digital Multimedia Broadband) with the successful implementation of TV mobile phones (TU mobile) in 2005. One of the key features of mobile media technologies is the attempt by the industry to find the next killer application . One such application is the possibility of online multiplayer games accessed through mobile (broadband) telephonic devices such as MMO golf RPG Shot Online (a golf game for mobile phones). Amongst this frenzy of trend spotting and stargazing, Seoul as a mobile broadband and gaming centre provides a curious case study for the social and cultural intricacies informing the rise of gaming as an everyday practice for many Koreans.This article begins by outlining the game play and technoculture particular to South Korea and then explores the phenomenon of Kart Rider in South Korean gaming cultures - and its perception/ reception outside Korea - to sketch some of the issues at stake in playing it cute (particularly in the form of cute avatars), consuming Korea and the endurance of co-present communities. In particular, it contemplates the implications of current emerging online mobile gaming genres such as so-called female games such as the cute' Kart Rider in order to think about changing modes of game play and attendant social spaces.

Notwithstanding the presence of extreme racialized tropes within the world of videogames, public discourses continue to focus on questions of violence, denying the impor-tance of games in maintaining the hegemonic racial order. Efforts to exclude race (andintersections with gender, nation, and sexuality) from public discussions through its era-sure and the acceptance of larger discourses of colorblindness contribute to a problematicunderstanding of video games and their significant role in contemporary social, political,economic, and cultural organization. How can one truly understand fantasy, violence,gender roles, plot, narrative, game playability, virtual realities, and the like without ex-amining race, racism, and/or racial stratification—one cannot. This article challengesgame studies scholars to move beyond simply studying games to begin to offer insightand analysis into the importance of race and racialized tropes within virtual reality andthe larger implications of racist pedagogies of video games in the advancement of Whitesupremacy.

Killing the Indian Maiden examines the fascinating and often disturbing portrayal of Native American women in film. M. Elise Marubbio examines the sacrificial role in which a young Native woman allies herself with a white male hero and dies as a result of that choice. In studying thirty-four Hollywood films from the silent period to the present, she draws upon theories of colonization, gender, race, and film studies to ground her analysis in broader historical and sociopolitical context and to help answer the question, "What does it mean to be an American?"

his thesis documents and explores community-based and socially engaged art by Indigenous women artists. Their artwork is impacting and strengthening communities in Manitoba. The Thesis explores the use of dialogical aesthetics in performance and socially-engaged art by Indigenous women artists in rural and remote areas of Manitoba, and relates these aesthetics to the concept of activism through their art and relationship to their community. The aim of this research and this paper is to document, support and expose the work of a small pocket of Indigenous women artists in Manitoba who are acting as activists or social change agents based on their artwork. I have arrived at this conclusion first by their personal testimonies, second, by their art being socially conscious and lastly, by their art practices entrenched in the framework of dialogical aesthetics, community-based and site-specific ideologies.

En este artículo, se aborda la temática del video como tecnología de género. El video es el medio de creación artística que algunas mujeres están utilizando para crear lo que se puede llamar imá genes en femenino. Se hace un acercamiento al discurso feminista y los presupuestos teóricos que se han tomado para el análisis del discurso videográfico de las mujeres. Se presenta un breve análisis de los trabajos de las videastas Pola Weiss y Pilar Rodríguez.

In this updated edition of his acclaimed and award-winning study, Stephen Bourne takes a personal look at the history of black people in popular British film and television. He documents, from original research and interviews, the experiences and representations which have been ignored in previous media books about people of African descent. There are chapters about Paul Robeson, Newton I. Aduaka, soap operas and much more - as well as several useful appendices and suggestions for further reading.

"Featuring Females analyzes the portrayals of women in a variety of outlets, including reality television shows, films, print and electronic news programming, magazines, video games, and commercial advertising. A highly esteemed group of scholars and researchers provides informed, original psychological study, and their thought-provoking findings address the ways in which aging, race/ethnicity, body image, gender roles, sexual orientation and relationships, and violence are treated in the media. Featuring Females is a diverse volume, exploring images and characterizations of women young and old and inspiring discussion of the effects that these representations have on girls, women, and society at large"--

La idea de elaborar un número sobre las luchas de las mujeres y las feministas en América Latina y el Caribe surgió de un encuentro entre Sabine Masson (Suiza), Jules Falquet (Francia) y Ochy Curiel (República Dominicana), cuyos caminos se cruzaron en el continente latinoamericano por razones personales y políticas. Debatimos y reflexionamos juntas sobre la cuestión de las barreras de "raza" y de clase que nos atraviesan a las feministas de diferentes partes del mundo, y que son en particular el reflejo de las relaciones de dominación entre el Sur y el Norte. Precisamente por estas barreras, las experiencias políticas y el trabajo de construcción colectiva de muchas feministas y mujeres, especialmente de América Latina y el Caribe, siguen siendo desconocidas para la mayoría de las feministas de otras latitudes, y de poco interés para las revistas académicas feministas de los países ricos. Oponerse a esta invisibilización y contribuir, aunque sea a nivel experimental y muy modesto, a la deconstrucción de estas barreras, fue nuestra principal motivación para organizar este número en una revista francófona como Nouvelles Questions Féministes. Sin embargo, el trabajo de coordinación presentó importantes contradicciones: primero, entre nosotros mismos. En primer lugar, tuvimos que reconocer e integrar las diferencias y similitudes de nuestras respectivas posiciones, para llegar a un consenso que nos permitiera desarrollar esta cuestión juntos. En segundo lugar, nos enfrentamos al riesgo de reproducir una vez más el saqueo de los conocimientos de las mujeres indias, afrodescendientes y mestizas latinoamericanas y caribeñas por parte de los "expertos del Norte". Los textos se traducirían al francés, lo que significaría que una ínfima minoría de mujeres latinoamericanas y caribeñas tendría acceso a ellos, mientras circulaban por Europa, enriqueciendo una vez más el conocimiento de las mujeres de los países ricos con el trabajo, las luchas, las historias y los escritos de las mujeres de los países pobres. Ante este problema, decidimos que la publicación de este número fuera acompañada de una versión en español, con el objetivo de hacer circular y compartir esta producción intelectual en América Latina y el Caribe   L’idée de faire un numéro sur les luttes de femmes et les luttes féministes en Amérique latine et aux Caraïbes a surgi de la rencontre entre Sabine Masson (Suisse), Jules Falquet (France) et Ochy Curiel (République Dominicaine), dont les chemins se sont croisés sur le continent latino-américain pour des raisons personnelles autant que politiques. Nous avons débattu et réfléchi ensemble sur la question des barrières de « race » et de classe qui nous traversent, nous les féministes de différentes parties du monde, et qui sont notamment le reflet des rapports de domination entre le Sud et le Nord. Justement à cause de ces barrières, les expériences politiques et le travail de construction collective de beaucoup de féministes et de femmes, notamment latino-américaines et des Caraïbes, demeurent inconnus de la plupart des féministes d’autres latitudes, et intéressent peu les revues féministes académiques des pays riches. S’opposer à cette invisibilisation et contribuer, même si ce n’est qu’à un niveau expérimental et très modeste, à déconstruire ces barrières, a constitué notre principale motivation pour organiser ce numéro dans une revue francophone comme Nouvelles Questions Féministes . Néanmoins, le travail de coordination présentait d’importantes contradictions : d’abord, entre nous. Pour commencer, nous avons dû reconnaître et intégrer les différences et les similitudes de nos positions respectives, afin de parvenir à un consensus qui nous permette d’élaborer ce numéro ensemble. Ensuite, nous nous confrontions au risque de reproduire encore une fois le pillage des connaissances des femmes indiennes, afro-descendantes et métisses latino-américaines et des Caraïbes par les « expertes du Nord ». Les textes allaient être traduits en français, c’est-à-dire qu’une infime minorité de femmes latino-américaines et des Caraïbes pourrait y avoir accès, pendant qu’ils circuleraient en Europe, enrichissant une fois de plus le savoir des femmes des pays riches à partir du travail, des luttes, des histoires et des écrits des femmes des pays pauvres. Face à ce problème, nous avons décidé que la publication de ce numéro allait s’accompagner d’une version en espagnol, dans le but de faire circuler et de partager cette production intellectuelle en Amérique latine et aux Caraïbes

A discussion of authorship, relating to the feminist study of the role of women in early cinema.

Beyond Bollywood is the first comprehensive look at the emergence, development, and significance of contemporary South Asian diasporic cinema. From a feminist and queer perspective, Jigna Desai explores the hybrid cinema of the 'Brown Atlantic' through a close look at films in English from and about South Asian diasporas in the United States, Canada, and Britain, including such popular films as My Beautiful Laundrette, Fire, Monsoon Wedding, and Bend it Like Beckham.

The Velvet Light Trap 53 (2004) 26-39 On December 2, 2001, HBO began airing Project Greenlight, a twelve-part documentary series chronicling the production of a feature film by novice writer-director Pete Jones. With its spectacle of backroom dealings, unchecked egos, and human frailties, the television series capitalized on the contemporaneous success of like-minded "reality" programs such as Survivor and Temptation Island. Perhaps more closely, Project Greenlight also tapped into the current vogue for the "behind-the-scenes" and the "making-of" genres, represented by straight-to-video titles such as Star Trek-Deep Space Nine: Behind the Scenes (1993), Making of Jurassic Park (1995), and The Matrix Revisited (2001), television programs such as the Sundance Channel's Anatomy of a Scene, HBO's First Look, and MTV's Making the Video, and the proliferation of behind-the-scenes and making-of packaging on DVDs. A reflection of the growth of film-related ancillary products in the 1980s, the ever-expanding Hollywood ego, and the demands of a twenty-four-hour television cable market, the increased appearance of the making-of documentary format no doubt also reflects the renewed interest in amateur filmmaking promulgated by the age of desktop video. Perhaps as a manifestation of this interest, making-of documentaries have become increasingly more detailed in their coverage. Whereas the 1981 television special The Making of "Raiders of the Lost Ark" (Phillip Schuman) focuses mostly on the film's stunt work, special effects, location shoots, and set design, the recently released making-of documentary The Matrix Revisited focuses on script development, preproduction, production, postproduction, and exhibition, introducing viewers to costume designers, storyboard artists, and editors along the way. This attention to production detail can also be seen in Sundance's Anatomy of a Scene, which hones in on the construction, from music to costume to camera work, of a single scene. And certainly raising the bar on the level of detail included in the making-of genre is Project Greenlight, which is a "warts-and-all" look at film production, from squabbles over budgets to catering fiascos. Despite the making-of video's increased attention to the minutiae of filmmaking, one of the areas that remains outside the purview of most Hollywood making-of documentaries is the production of sex. Discussions about the cinematic logistics of creating a sex scene—how, when, and with what resources—are usually not featured in making-of documentaries. Of course, given our celebrity-driven culture, the question of sex vis-à-vis film production, particularly a Hollywood film production, is hardly absent from the publicity that surrounds a film. It is not uncommon to hear actresses or actors discussing what it was like to kiss another actor on the set. But these kinds of concerns are usually the province of entertainment magazines and television, not the province of ancillary related products such as the making-of video. While stories of roles requiring nudity or sex scenes abound on television shows such as Access Hollywood, Entertainment Tonight, and E! News Daily,these kinds of topics are less likely to appear in production-generated documentaries. Indeed, while the production of the provocative sex scene between Halle Berry and Billy Bob Thornton in Monster's Ball (Marc Forster, 2001) generated much discussion on television entertainment programs, talk shows, and newsmagazines, it was the film's prison execution sequence that was featured in the Sundance Channel's making-of special on the film. Given the lack of focus on sex scenes in most making-of documentaries, it is interesting to note that the two existing making-of documentaries for lesbian-made, lesbian-themed feature films—The Making of Bar Girls (1995) and Moments: The Making of Claire of the Moon (1992)—both heavily focus on the production of lesbian sex. Moreover, both lesbian making-of documentaries emphasize the cast's and the crew's sexual titillation over the creation of sexual sequences. In this essay I look at what this strategy reveals about the collective climate and concerns of lesbian feature filmmaking in the United States today.

In 1989, three years before the New Queer Wave was even invented or discovered, two very different yet interconnected films were produced on either side of the Atlantic. Both soon became critically successful and both would win a number of prizes at different international film festivals and venues. In retrospect, these two films have come to constitute the very incitement to the Wave. British filmmaker Isaac Julien’s Looking for Langston premiered in early 1989 and American filmmaker Marlon Riggs’s Tongues Untied premiered later that same year, the latter including a still photo from the former so as to pay homage

"By bringing together a provocative selection of essays and images, Only Skin Deep: Changing Visions of the American Self addresses the issues of nation, race, and selfhood and how they are depicted in ways that are challenging and informative, prompting readers to consider the impact of photography on our everyday lives." "If photographs are chiefly responsible for perpetuating myths of American identity, can a different reading of these representations break down distorting stereotypes? This is the central question posed by Only Skin Deep. The authors in this book forcefully argue that race and nation - and, indeed, photography itself - are fictions, cultural constructions that shape our social interactions. Even as symbols, these photographic depictions of ethnic difference and cultural superiority have very real consequences. This collection of works and essays addresses, for example, the lingering consequences of American colonial expansion; the conflict between public and private visualizations of individuals; the role of commercial imagery in shaping gender roles; the impact of fantasy in ethnic or ethnographic photography; and the uses of science to provide justification for politicized depictions of "race."" "Accompanying a major exhibition of the same name, Only Skin Deep offers a critical rereading of the archive of the history of photography. This applies to the works of famous photographers - such as Dorothea Lange, Walker Evans, Ansel Adams, and Edward Steichen - as well as lesser-known historical figures, including Charles Eisenmann, Frances Benjamin Johnston, Will Soule, and Toyo Miyatake. A substantial part of the book is devoted to contemporary artists and photographers who have moved beyond the multicultural approach to representations of "race" and have made an investigation of the semiotics of cultural identity a prevalent theme over the past decade. Among the recent photographers included are: Nancy Burson, Nikki S. Lee, Glenn Ligon, Paul Pfeiffer, Hulleah Tsinhnahjinnie, Cindy Sherman, Lorna Simpson, and Andres Serrano."--(BOOK JACKET)

In this essay I examine one particular feature of the films, the song-and-dance sequences, as they draw attention to the fractious nature of the postcolonial nation while simultaneously attempting to construct a space for the articulation of a consolidated national identity.

According to the 2000 census, Latinos/as have become the largest ethnic minority group in the United States. Images of Latinos and Latinas in mainstream news and in popular culture suggest a Latin Explosion at center stage, yet the topic of queer identity in relation to Latino/a America remains under examined. Juana María Rodríguez attempts to rectify this dearth of scholarship in Queer Latinidad: Identity Practices, Discursive Spaces, by documenting the ways in which identities are transformed by encounters with language, the law, culture, and public policy. She identifies three key areas as the project’s case studies: activism, primarily HIV prevention; immigration law; and cyberspace. In each, Rodríguez theorizes the ways queer Latino/a identities are enabled or constrained, melding several theoretical and methodological approaches to argue that these sites are complex and dynamic social fields. As she moves the reader from one disciplinary location to the other, Rodríguez reveals the seams of her own academic engagement with queer latinidad. This deftly crafted work represents a dynamic and innovative approach to the study of identity formation and representation, making a vital contribution to a new reformulation of gender and sexuality studies.

Since its invention, television has been one of the biggest influences on American culture. Through this medium, multiple visions and disparate voices have attempted to stake a place in viewer consumption. Yet even as this programming supposedly reflects characteristics of the general American populace, television-generated images are manipulated and contradictory, predicated by the various economic, political, and cultural forces placed upon it. In Shaded Lives, Beretta Smith-Shomade sets out to dissect images of the African American woman in television from the 1980s. She calls their depiction "binaristic," or split. African American women, although an essential part of television programming today, are still presented as distorted and deviant. By closely examining the television texts of African-American women in comedy, music video, television news and talk shows (Oprah Winfrey is highlighted), Smith-Shomade shows how these voices are represented, what forces may be at work in influencing these images, and what alternate ways of viewing might be available. Smith-Shomade offers critical examples of where the sexist and racist legacy of this country collide with the cultural strength of Black women in visual and real-lived culture. As the nation's climate of heightened racial divisiveness continues to relegate the representation of Black women to depravity and display, her study is not only useful, it is critical.