Lev Manovich

Film/Telecommunication -- Benjamin/Virilio


If Walter Benjamin had one true intellectual descendant who extended 
his inquiries into the second half of the twentieth century, this must be 
Paul Virilio. Indeed, Benjamin and Virilio share a number of crucial 
affinities both in terms of their method and the themes they explore. 
The method: both are able to practice the most difficult 
philosophical method of all -- that of induction -- inferring general laws 
of culture and history from the minute details of everyday life. (This 
sets them apart from most critics who are predisposed to see 
such details through the filters of already existing theoretical 
paradigms.) Both also abandon the conventional method of theoretical 
exposition which requires the writer to first clearly state general 
arguments and then support them by particular examples in favor of 
another method, borrowed from cinema: montage of images. 
Benjamin, writing about the Arcades Project: "Method of this work is 
literary montage. I need say nothing. Only show."[1] Virilio, in a recent 
interview: "I always write with images."[2]
	The themes: both Benjamin and Virilio repeatedly address 
themselves to the same ones -- the city, the relations between human 
senses and technology, the effect of forms of perception on forms of 
politics. This essay will focus on one of these common themes: the 
disruption caused by a cultural artifact, specifically, new 
communication technology (film in the case of Benjamin, 
telecommunication in the case of Virilio) in the familiar patterns of 
human perception; in short, in intervention of technology into human 
nature. This theme features prominently in Benjamin's celebrated "The 
Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction" (1936); half a 
century later, Virilio returns to it in an essay which presents one of the 
most interesting critiques of cyberculture to date -- "Big Optics" (1992).[3] 
	What is human nature and what is technology? How does one 
draws the boundary between the two in the twentieth century? Both 
Benjamin and Virilio solve this problem in the same way. They equate 
nature with spatial distance between the observer and the observed; and 
they see technologies as destroying this distance. As we will see, these 
two assumptions lead them to interpret the prominent new 
technologies of their times in a very similar way.           
	Benjamin starts with his now famous concept of aura: the 
unique presence of a work of art, of a historical or of a natural object. 
We may think that an object has to be close by if we to experience its 
aura but, paradoxically, Benjamin defines aura "as the unique 
phenomenon of a distance"(224). "If, while resting on a summer 
afternoon, you follow with your eyes a mountain range on the horizon 
or a branch which casts its shadow over you, you experience the aura of 
those mountains, of that branch" (225).  Similarly, writes Benjamin, 
"painter maintains in his work a natural distance from reality" (235). 
This respect for distance common to both natural perception and 
painting is overturned by the new technologies of mass reproduction, 
particularly photography and film. Cameraman, whom Benjamin 
compares to a surgeon, "penetrates deeply into its [reality] web" (237); 
his camera zooms in in order to "pray an object from its shell" (225). 
With its new mobility, glorified in such films as Dziga Vertov's "A 
Man with the Movie Camera," the camera can be anywhere, and, with 
its superhuman vision, it can obtain a close-up of any object. These 
close-ups, writes Benjamin, satisfy the desires of the masses "to bring 
things 'closer' spatially and humanly," "to get hold of an object at very 
close range" (225). Along with disregarding the scale, the unique 
locations of the objects are discarded as well as their photographs 
brought together within a single picture magazine or a film newsreel, 
the forms which fit in with the demand of mass democratic society for 
"the universal equality of things." 
	Writing about telecommunication and telepresence, Virilio 
similarly uses the concept of distance to understand their effect. In 
Virilio's reading, these technologies collapse the physical distances, 
uprooting the familiar patterns of perception which grounded our 
culture and politics. 
	Virilio introduces the terms Small Optics and Big Optics to 
underline the dramatic nature of this change. Small Optics are based on 
geometric perspective and shared by human vision, painting and film. 
It involves the distinctions between near and far, between an object and 
a horizon against which the object stands out. Big Optics is real-time 
electronic transmission of information, "the active optics of time 
passing at the speed of light." 
	As Small Optics are being replaced by Big Optics, the distinctions 
characteristic of the former are erased. If information from any point 
can be transmitted with the same speed, the concepts of near and far, 
horizon, distance and space itself no longer have any meaning. (So, if 
for Benjamin industrial age displaced, dislocated every object from its 
original setting, for Virilio post-industrial age eliminates the dimension 
of space altogether.) At least in principle, every point on Earth is now 
instantly accessible from any other point on Earth. As a consequence, 
Big Optics locks us in a claustrophobic world without any depth or 
horizon; the Earth becomes our prison. 
	Virilio asks us to notice "the progressive derealization of the 
terrestrial horizon,...resulting in an impending primacy of real time 
perspective of undulatory optics over real space of the linear 
geometrical optics of the Quattrocento."[4] He mourns the destruction of 
distance, geographic grandeur, the vastness of natural space, the 
vastness which guaranteed time delay between events and our 
reactions, giving us time for critical reflection necessary to arrive at a 
correct decision. The regime of Big Optics inevitably leads to real time 
politics, the politics which requires instant reactions to the events 
transmitted with the speed of light, and which ultimately can only be 
efficiently handled by computers responding to each other.       	      
	Given the surprising similarity of Benjamin's and Virilio's 
accounts of new technologies, it is telling how differently they draw the 
boundaries between natural and cultural, between what is already 
assimilated within the human nature and what is still new and 
threatening. Writing in 1936, Benjamin uses the real landscape and a 
painting as examples of what is natural for human perception. This 
natural state is invaded by film which collapses distances, bringing 
everything equally close and destroys aura. 
	Virilio, writing half a century later, draws lines quite differently.  
By now film, which for Benjamin still represented an alien presence, 
became part of our human nature, the continuation of our natural 
sight. Virilio considers human vision, Renaissance perspective, 
painting and film as all belonging to Small Optics of geometric 
perspective in contrast to the Big Optics of instant electronic  
transmission. 
	Virilio postulates a historical break between film and 
telecommunication, between Small Optics and Big Optics. It is also 
possible to read the movement from the first to the second in terms of 
continuity --  if we are to use the concept of modernization. 
Modernization is accompanied by the process of disruption of the 
physical space and matter, the process which privileges interchangeable 
and mobile signs over the original objects and relations. In the words of 
Jonathan Crary (who draws on Deleuze and Guattari's ANTI-OEDIPUS 
and on Marx's GRANDRISSE)  "Modernization is the process by which 
capitalism uproots and makes mobile that which is grounded, clears 
away or obliterates that which impedes circulation, and makes 
exchangeable what is singular."[5] This definition fits equally well 
Benjamin's account of film and Virilio's account of 
telecommunication, the latter just being more advanced 
stage in this continual process of turning objects into mobile signs. 
Before, different physical locations met within a single magazine 
spread or a film newsreel; now, they meet within a single electronic 
screen.  Of course, the signs now themselves exist as digital data which 
makes their transmission and manipulation even easier. Also, in 
contrast to photographs, which remain fixed once they are printed, 
digital representation makes every image inherently mutable[6]  --  
creating signs which are no longer just mobile but also forever 
modifiable. Yet, significant as they are, these are ultimately quantitative 
rather than qualitative differences -- with one exception.
	What may be radically new in electronic telecommunication, in 
contrast to film, is that it can function as a two-way communication. 
Not only the user can immediately obtain images of various locations, 
bringing them together with a single electronic screen, but, via 
telepresence, she can also be "present" in these locations. In other 
words, she can affect change on material reality over physical distance 
in real time. In this way, electronic communication makes 
instantaneous not only the process by which objects are turned into 
signs but also the reverse process -- manipulation of objects through 
these signs.[7]  
	Film, telecommunication, telepresence. Benjamin's and 
Virilio's analyses made possible for us to understand the historical 
effect of these technologies in terms of progressive diminishing and 
finally complete elimination of something which both writers see as a 
fundamental condition of human perception -- spatial distance, the 
distance between the subject who is seeing and the object being seen. 
This reading of distance involved in (perspectival) vision as something 
positive, as a necessary ingredient of human culture provides an 
important alternative for a much more dominant tendency in modern 
thought to read distance negatively. This negative reading is then used 
to attack the visual sense as a whole. Distance becomes responsible for 
creating the gap between the spectator and spectacle, for separating 
subject and object, for putting the first in the position of transcendental 
mastery and rendering the second inert. Distance allows the subject to 
treat the Other as object; in short, it makes objectification possible. Or, as 
French fisherman have summarized this critique to young Lacan who 
was looking at a sardine can floating on the surface of the sea: "You see 
the can? Do you see it? Well, it doesn't see you!"[8]
	In Western thought, vision has always been understood and 
discussed in opposition to touch; so, inevitably, the denigration of 
vision (to use Martin Jay's term[9]) leads to the elevation of touch (for 
instance, witness the recent interest in the idea of haptic). For instance, 
we may be tempted to read the lack of distance characteristic of the act of 
touching as allowing for a different relationship between subject and 
object. Benjamin and Virilio block this seemingly logical line of 
argument as they both stress aggression potentially present in this act. 
Rather than understanding touch as a respectful and careful contact or 
as a caress, they present it as unceremonious and aggressive disruption 
of matter. 
	Thus, the standard connotations of vision and touch become 
reversed. For Benjamin and Virilio, distance guaranteed by vision 
preserves the aura of an object, its position in the world, while the 
desire "to brings things 'closer' " destroys objects' relations to each 
other, ultimately obliterating the material order altogether and 
rendering the notions of distance and space meaningless. So even if we 
are to disagree with their arguments about new technologies and to 
question their equitation between natural order and distance, the 
critique of vision -- touch opposition is something we should retain.
 


NOTES	
     
[1] Walter Benjamin, "N [Theoretics of Knowledge; Theory of 
Progress]," THE 
PHILOSOPHICAL FORUM 15, no. 1-2 (Fall-Winter 1983-1984), 5.
[2] Louise Wilson, Cyberwar, God and Television: Interview with Paul 
Virilio, CTHEORY (http://english-www.hss.cmu.edu/ctheory/a-
cyberwar_god.html).
[3] Walter Benjamin, "The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical 
Reproduction," in ILLUMINATIONS, ed. Hannah Arendt (New York: 
Schochen Books, 1969);  Paul Virilio, "Big Optics," in ON JUSTIFYING 
THE HYPOTHETICAL NATURE OF ART AND THE NON-IDENTICALITY 
WITHIN THE OBJECT WORLD, ed. Peter Weibel (Kšln, 1992). Virilio's 
argument can also be found in his other recent essays. See, for instance, 
"InterCommunication Celebration Symposium: Media and 
Communication in the Computer Age. Asuda Akira, Edmond Couchot, 
Jonathan Crary and Paul Virilio," in ANNUAL 
INTERCOMMUNICATION 
'94 (Tokyo: 1994).  
[4] Virilio, "Big Optics," 90.
[5] Jonathan Crary, TECHNIQUES OF THE OBSERVER: ON VISION 
AND MODERNITY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY (Cambridge: The MIT 
Press, 1990), 10.
[6] This point is argued in William Mitchell, THE RECONFIGURED 
EYE: VISUAL TRUTH IN THE POST-PHOTOGRAPHIC ERA (Cambridge, 
Mass.:  The MIT Press, 1992).
[7] I analyze the semiotics of telepresence in more detail in "To Lie and 
to Act: Potemkin's Villages, Cinema and Telepresence," in ARS 
ELECTRONICA '95 (Linz, Austria, 1995).
[8] Jacques Lacan, THE FOUR FUNDAMENTAL CONCEPTS OF 
PSYCHO-ANALYSIS, ed. Jacques-Alain Miller (New York and London: 
W.W.Norton, 1978), 95.
[9] Martin Jay, DOWNCAST EYES: THE DENIGRATION OF VISION IN 
TWENTIETH-CENTURY FRENCH THOUGHT (Berkeley: University of 
California Press, 1993).