On the Animation of the Inorganic: Art, Architecture, and the Extension of Life (2015)

Studying frozen movementReview of:Spyros Papapetros, On the Animation of the Inorganic: Art, Architecture, and the Extension of Life, Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press, 2012, 400pp. + b/w illustrations, £35.00, ISBN-10: 0226645681; ISBN-13: 978-0226645681Jeremy WhiteIn his preface, Papapetros alerts the reader to the temptation of presuming that discourse precedes action. 'The book's method,' he writes, is 'in empathy with its subject' (xiii). He follows that by insisting that our relationship to objects has changed but the language we use to think about that relationship has not, and it is this contradiction that provokes him to write. This book is a finely detailed exploration of movement as depicted in static forms, that is, painting, drawings, and other media, as it was conceived during the late nineteenth and early twentieth century. The focus is fine tuned as well, centred on the scholar Aby Warburg, but there is a rather interesting cast of significant characters here in addition to the German art historian, taking this study well beyond Warburg. The author ropes in form-givers such as the cubist Fernand Leger, Ludwig Mies Van Der Rohe, and Salvador Dali, each given thorough treatment. Theorists such as Alois Riegl and Wilhelm Worringer play two of the more important roles. The number of minor characters is dizzying too, such as Paul Eluard, and the photographer known as Brassai, and there is considerable charm in the way Papapetros rummages around to find them. For example, the writer Herbert Read enters the script as an editor of another's work, but we linger over his own writing for a page or so. Nietzsche, Freud, Jung, even Vitruvius don't quite enter the stage but they hover nearby, referenced periodically throughout the book as benchmarks locating the narrative in a larger cognitive map. As the reader follows Papapetros's narrative of detail from one chapter to the next, each long and intricate, it feels as though the author is not covering new ground. Instead, he leads the reader to nooks and fissures in the terrain, filling in some of the empty spaces on the map. The associations that come from this sort of approach, and the many asides that often lead to an important nuance, do indeed provide the reader with a worthwhile experience.It is a successful and interesting book, even engaging, largely because of the manner in which the narrative is presented. The research feels hefty, although with so many details and minor characters it feels at times that the author simply refused to make tough choices, presenting everything. And yet, presentation is handled with skill and no part of the book seems misplaced or extraneous. It all belongs. This is a study of an idea, or set of ideas, not really a study of people. The flow from onesection to another within a chapter follows not a particular individual nor a discrete idea, but an idea as it was carried and developed by a particular individual. This makes for a personal and absorbing narrative, as the reader comes to learn the predilections of Papapetros's characters as well as their influence on the ideas they grappled with. Despite such an evocative and appealing narrative, it is a demanding book. It is not quite for the general audience, and it seems unsuited to undergraduate courses; it is a graduate level read to be sure, as specialists would get the most out of its innumerable references, lateral moves, and asides that flirt with narrative changes. The idea, or ideas, apply most immediately to painting and the decorative arts in the modern period, but there is something here for a range of scholars in the humanities, including historians of science.Structure and MethodThe book's title contains the two key terms of the narrative, animation and inorganic. Indeed, animation comprises the first part of the book, chapters one to three, while the inorganic is treated in the second part containing the last three chapters. …