Rituals of Perception Hernán Ulm
Rituals of Perception Hernán Ulm
Of perception as a ritual
1 Text presented at the International Congress Rituals of perception: body, technology, materiality, held
at the Fluminine Federal University in July 2017. In publication process
intersubjectively shared system of beliefs) constitute what, according to the
thought of Marcel Mauss, can be called “ritual”. The concept of ritual, initially
restricted to the analysis of the sacred and the religious, was reread in
contemporary anthropology under the complementary perspectives of the
performative and performance, expanding its limits to reach all types of
behaviors governed by a system of rules that produce effects immanent to
themselves: in this sense, a ritual process is not true or false in relation to
something external to it (in relation to objects that it would have to capture or
configure) but would be effective or ineffective (more or less successful) in
relation to the emergence of those objects and the behaviors that the rules
themselves conceive in relation to them. It is in this immanence that a common
horizon of meaning is produced. Thus, according to this model, I want to
propose that perception can be considered as an effect of a ritual process that
produces a common sensitivity: only when the performative nature of the rules
that organize the sensible is accepted, something “appears” to perception and ,
only to the extent that something “appears”, the ritual process is effective in the
production of perception.
Only to the extent that we believe in the performative force of the rules do we
belong to the sensitive community that the process itself produces. Thus, our
own body (as a sensitive unit of ourselves) is a performative effect of the rules:
only as a successful performance can the body be recognized as such, as
forming part of a community (that is, the most decisive performative effect and
performance of the rituals of perception are those by which, at the same time
that a community is created, models of subjectivity are offered for the agents
who participate in it). In other words, our bodies (and the world in which there
are bodies), being “without organs” or “disorganized”, have to be constructed
each time by some agency in accordance with a ritual that corresponds to it. To
that extent, an assemblage can be analytically decomposed based on the rules
of the rituals of perception that make up sensitivity. If, to paraphrase Foucault,
rules organize the conflicting tensions that produce modes of subjectivity, a ritual
allows us to study the set of forces in dispute in the constitution of the sensible
body (paying attention to all the metaphors that define the political and social).
Thus, to the extent that it defines what can appear, a ritual also delimits the
border of what cannot appear in the order of the social body: abject bodies, as
Judith Butler said, and not those that are part of what is considered worthy of
being perceived. In the ways of appearing, the dignities of what appears and
what does not appear are concerned: what does not follow the rules, what does
not observe the prescriptions of the ritual, will be unworthy of appearing and will
remain outside of the perceived (it will not even have the subtle appearance of
shadows and ghosts). For its part, a change in the order of the rules will cause
perception (and the belief in the sensitive world that was organized in it) to enter
into crisis, prescribe, demanding an effort to restore the conditions of the
perceptible, either through a greater demand in the observance of the rules of
the ritual, either by the invention of new rules (new prescriptions) and thus, by
the elaboration of a new ritual of perception. The crisis may be referred to the
dissatisfaction of the agents regarding the beliefs that the ritual institutes or in
the face of the inability of the rules to resolve some incongruity of the perceptible
derived from a conflict in the order of appearance. Or, in short, it can be felt as
an exhaustion of the beliefs that were constructed by the ritual: reaching the
ways in which something appears on the horizon of the perceptible and the
models of subjectivity that were accepted in the ritual. In short, these changes
result in a mutation in the order of the sensible, of affects and percepts and,
therefore, of the ways in which we legitimately constitute ourselves as
subjectivities. That is why there is always an incommensurability, a discontinuity
between assemblages, according to the ritual of perception in question. In this
sense, we can make a genealogy of the present by analyzing our own
perceptual rituals. Is there such a thing as a digital ritual of perception? What is it
to perceive within the technical processes of image production? What type of
subjectivities appear as an effect of these rituals of digital perception? Would our
present be analysable in terms of rituals of disjunct perception, in which the
senses, far from converging in a sensitive unity, far from constructing the body
as a sensory-motor unit – remain in indefinite distance from that which has no
point? of convergence, a regime of the heterogeneity of the senses and of what
is felt by the senses, a regime in which what we see, what we say, what we hear
and what we touch are subject to non-transferable rules? A ritual that perhaps
was already diagnosed by Baudelaire's Correspondences, by Huysman's
dilettantism? A ritual that exasperates the dissimilarities of the senses? Rituals
that distribute the disjunctions between images?
And, if the rituals of perception organize the tensions and conflicts that go
through an assemblage, if it were possible to deviate from the rules, could we
achieve an “imperceptible becoming”, in the sense in which Deleuze and
Guattari proposed it? Or, like Michel Foucault, could we fold the forces of
subjectivation that cross the assemblages? A becoming of the body in the face
of forms of subjection that could be achieved through self-aesthetics, or through
the arts as a work of affections and pure percepts against the normalizing effects
of common sense? Wouldn't it be that, if rituals define the recognized modes of
subjectivities, these, in turn, have a future beyond those rituals? And from what
element can we analyze these rituals and, without abdicating immanence,
escape from their subjections?
A third option allows us to think about the lines of flight within these rituals:
defining the arts as the work of thought that interrupts the daily flows of
sensitivity (those flows that each assemblage normalizes, ritualizing them), we
can analyze the historically variable modes of perception by the various ways in
which the sensible is interrupted (beyond the academic tradition of considering
“works of art” as bearers of qualities or characteristics subjected to some type of
2 The terms in quotes in this paragraph refer to central concepts in Victor Turner's thought.
more or less idealized valuation, any object or action, as that produces such an
interruption of the sensible can be considered art: they themselves propitiate a
crisis or allow the conditions of what is considered a normal perception in a
given arrangement to be analyzed abysmally). In this sense, we would have an
artistic development of technical objects as a game of inversion of the rules or as
a going to the limits of what the technical object can do, or as the invention of
new games within the rules by the that these objects are defined.
The change in the experience of the image also expresses a change in the
experience of the body, so the cultural history of the image is also reflected in an
analogous cultural history of the body (...) Today's digital media have modified our
perception , just as the technical means that preceded them did; However, this
perception remains linked to the body BELTING, Hans; Anthropology of the image ;
p. 30-31
Perception as montage
If cinema was one of the most successful technical objects of the 20th century, it
is because it expresses the rules of ritual necessary for our perception to be
constructed. For the German theorist Hugo Münsterberg, in a founding text of
cinematographic theory from 1916 (equivalent, perhaps, to that already
mentioned by Arago), the production procedures of cinema (point of view,
moving images, close-up, etc.) ) express the logic of thinking. In this sense, the
key to perception is found in montage. To the extent that the senses have been
fragmented (to the extent that space and time have been fragmented),
perception is itself a performative effect of montage (of cutting and pasting) that
never ceases to reconfigure itself: a modification in the montage will have as
consequences a modification of the perceptual spectrum of what appears (each
model of montage - from Griffith to Gance, from Murnau to Einstein - produces,
as Deleuze has shown, a well-differentiated type of community). The
permeability of the editing procedure, beyond the cinematographic object, seems
sufficiently demonstrated by the references to the Fordist type of production, to
psychoanalysis and the modes of elaboration of the unconscious, to the
Duchampian procedures of the ready-made , to Joyce's writing, etc. . Williams
Burroughs expressed it in a poignant way. Human perception is a montage, a
cut-up , a paste effect. Thus, the body, no less than the world, results from a
performative effect of that performance called montage. Going out onto the
street we see pieces of people. Of Meliés's tricks, (which play with the
unexpected and immediate approximation between life and death, between the
feminine and the masculine, diabolical tricks that show that all identities were put
on hold: cutting off heads and making them disappear were the tricks favorites of
the French filmmaker) to the problematizations of Lucrecia Martel's cinema (The
Headless Woman), from the Bataillean acephalus to the Warburg atlas, a body
without organs always appears to us that is constructed through the gluing of the
parts: the unity is the effect of this relationship
One last consideration arises: assembly is part of our past. The new
technical, electronic and digital objects express another type of sensitive agency.
They don't cut or paste. Montage gradually disappears from the scene (neither in
work, nor in production, nor in the arts does it seem to occupy the same place
for the general understanding of perception). The nature of images on television
and computer screens is no longer spatial and their relationships are not defined
by contiguity. The images appear to be just temporary modulations of intensity.
To the extent that the intensity ends, the image is erased without leaving traces
behind it. The new images do not archive anything and therefore do not promise
to reveal anything (perhaps they are part of a biopolitics that neither Foucault nor
Derrida could have imagined): they cut all relations with the past and with the
future in which they gave something to see. But that does not affect the images
without also affecting the body itself, as Belting stated. In the simultaneity
between what we see on the screens and what is outside of them, there is a
digital equivalence: the body is perceived as sets of bits of information
expressing an absolute assemblage of exchanges: bodies are not exchanged
except to the extent that have become informative. It is the eroticism of thinder
that resolves possible contacts through a scanning procedure in which the
finger, touching the screen, accepts the image and rejects the encounters. Our
rituals today express this becoming information of the bodies. In this
arrangement, the assembly matters less than the relative trajectory of the
movements in a territory and the intensity of their appearance and
disappearance, guaranteeing the online interconnectivity of life. But all of these
are only approximations to think about the post-montage rituals in which Mauss's
nurses gave the convalescent the model of the body of the women of Paris:
those bodies and the gaze that constructed them have vanished, together, in the
grains of celluloid where they feigned eternity.