States of Being

12930259 Research Project Report MA History of Art (2013_14) BBK_ AHVM042S7 28 April 2014 Making States of Being: a multimedia installation and alternative memoir space Background This essay will focus on a project in which I became involved in November 2012, after being asked to be part of a tripartite collaboration between Maajid Nawaz, my partner who is a political campaigner, and Joy Stacey, a photographic artist. The project was spearheaded by Joy, who approached Maajid after she saw him give a talk at TEDx Brighton on popularising democratic movements. Joy was 'looking for someone willing to collaborate in the creation of a photographic document in which the power balances are disrupted.'1 Maajid, now a Liberal Parliamentary candidate for Hampstead and Kilburn, was once a high-ranking member of Islamist organisation Hizb ut-Tahrir (HT), who plot military coups in order to establish a Caliphate, or overarching non-secular state guided by a narrow interpretation of Islamic law. It was according to HT that Maajid sought to overthrow the Egyptian government under Hosni Mubarak. In 2002 he was arrested and imprisoned at Mazra Tora prison in Cairo, where he was tortured and detained for four years. Before his release and return to London in 2006, he was adopted as an Amnesty International prisoner of conscience. Subsequently Maajid underwent a public disavowal of his former beliefs and set up the counter-extremist think tank Quilliam, which advises governments on how to counteract Islamist extremism.

For Joy, Maajid's 'current identity as perpetuated by his 'brand' was emblematic of a global human state.'2 Maajid has cultivated an iconic image that is both widely revered and reviled. Because his internal struggle was built on a larger war of opposing ideologies and geopolitical tensions—West versus East, secular versus non-secular government—his change of heart has had a polarising ripple effect between subscribers of his former and current views.

The writings of TJ Demos, which have visualised such vexed geopolitical identity in photographic representation, were extremely influential in her thought process up to this point. In his essay, Life Full of Holes, on photographs from the Yto Barrada 1 2

Transcript of Joy's Pecha Kucha talk, see Appendix A: p. 1.

Correspondence with Joy and Maajid, see Appendix D: p. 16.

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exhibition, A Life Full of Holes: The Strait Project (1998-2004), Demos describes the émigré experience in a photograph of a street scene in Tangiers. In Le Détroit, 2000 (Fig. 1), a boy holds up a model ship, which completely obscures his face. He is located peripherally, in the lower right-hand corner of the picture plane. Five other figures—two men and three veiled women—populate the upper register of the photograph. The Avenue d'Espagne, on which the boy stands, appears simultaneously like a concrete barricade and a body of water on which his toy boat sails. This is the emotional landscape, or 'zone of imagination and desire,' that constitutes the geographical dividing lines between countries. Importantly, Demos remarks on 'the visual effect of a figure becoming the vanishing point of citizenship.'3 For him, the inscrutability of the boy's face would allude to an invisibility of socio-political nature.

Using such terminology as 'spatial insecurity, perceptual disorientation...determined irresolution,' Demos hints at the capacity of photographs to convey a sense of friction with one's environment. His ideas have profound implications for the representation of stateless individual. If his legal footprint is translated visually, this would mean that the undocumented, or sans papiers, would be expressed via his omission from the picture plane.4 As a British-Pakistani Muslim, Maajid's identity is torn between different spheres.

Although he is a UK citizen, his 'brand' depends on his past of radical Islamism, which is imbued with a dichotomy of West versus East. Even in his rejection of his former views, his current incarnation still includes the Islamist narrative he now seeks to contradict.

Our project eventually took its title, States of Being, from these concerns encircling the socio-political coding of photographic imagery. (The title also alludes to the amorphous character of identity, a continually fluctuating construct.) Considering Demos, Maajid's journey presented fascinating possibilities for photographic representation.

The original structure of our project derived from Joy's criticism of pre-existing modes of documentary photography, in which an image of the subject would depend on the subjective lens of the photographer. In order to circumvent her own imposing gaze, Joy offered Maajid her digital SLR camera—a Canon EOS 40D—by which he could document his own life. In this 'alternative construct for documentation,' they would avoid any unnecessary objectification.

Joy had examined certain theories of Lithuanian philosopher, Emmanuel Lévinas, who queried the ethical neutrality of ontological exploration vis-à-vis the understanding of 3 4

Demos, T.J. 'Life Full of Holes,' Grey Room, no. 24 (Fall 2006): p. 73.

Ibid., pp. 73-4.

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the Other. In his Totalie et Infini,5 Lévinas posited that a a face-to-face encounter with the Other could yield a transcendent experience. Joy found fundamental flaws in this proposition, as it would deny the inevitability of inequality in such an inter-subjective encounter.6 Such antiquated discourses of alterity ignored the limitations of human perception, which would always hinder an impartial or 'original relation,' per Lévinas's thinking. In the end, she maintained that any encounter with the Other would be filtered through the subjective eye of the beholder and that this would inevitably complicate a balanced representation. She arrived at the conclusion that any representation of the Other should be guided by the Other himself.

'I wanted to use this concept of deconstructing a power relation in an image document alongside an exploration of what it meant to go through a transformation that for me was symbolic of our political human condition.'7 Maajid agreed to partake in the experiment, on the condition that I also partake as an overseer of the project. It was eventually decided that he would explore 'the personal impact of his redirection that was not at the forefront of his public image.' His photographs would fill in the gaps of his written memoir, Radical: My Journey from Islamist Extremism to a Democratic Awakening.8 Ultimately, they would be exhibited in a gallery.

Increasingly, I became involved in the conceptualisation and design of the exhibition.

Our concept changed to include multiple perspectives. We passed around the camera freely so as to convolute any one vantage point from which a stable narrative could be propagated. Joy and I initiated an on-going email correspondence vetting various possibilities for what to include and why, to how it would all be displayed in an ideal installation layout. We also routinely met in person, to peruse and deconstruct themes and narratives in the photographs.

States of Being has since evolved into a multimedia installation, including components of film and sound collage. We envisage a two-room setup: in room one, a film showing formative places in Maajid's ideological trajectory will be the focal point; in room two, a participatory 'archive' of photographs and other visual material will be a reflective space for viewers to reinterpret and reconstruct his story. Ideally, small screens embedded in the surrounding walls will play loops of 'memory theatres,' and light boxes will hold other selected prints and photographic 'diptychs.'

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Trans. French: 'Totality and Infinity' 'Emmanuel Lévinas.' Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (First published Sun., Jul. 23, 2006; substantive revision Wed., Aug. 3, 2011): http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/levinas/#TraOthSam 7 Correspondence with Joy and Maajid, see Appendix D: p. 16.

8 Nawaz, Maajid. Radical: My Journey from Islamist Extremism to a Democratic Awakening (Lyons Press: October 2013).

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Aims For the purposes of this essay, I will elucidate the process and methodology behind States of Being. In order to make an argument for the value of the installation, I will situate it in a wider context of scholarly discourses and visual culture, also linking it to contemporary examples. This will inform a proposal for funding and sponsorship, as we are at a stage we are looking to secure rental of equipment and a desirable exhibition space. (See Appendix C for a list of action points.) The installation must be combed for formal and conceptual inconsistencies, to ensure it stands up to an exacting audience of potential grant-makers, etc.

So that I maintain an appropriate level of distance from what is inherently personal subject matter, I will place emphasis on our thinking through and re-framing of the images—the micro- and macro- decision making behind their inclusion and various juxtapositions—rather than any prolonged analysis of their content. I will use visuals reflecting my curatorial decisions and focus on the internal logic of the installation.

I will be concerned with the following questions: a) how can one represent memory and ideological transformation, without resorting to clichĂŠs or static depictions of identity?; b) what is in the remit of the curatorial process?; c) how do we make an installation that is visually compelling and non-linear yet still accessible to those who are unfamiliar with Maajid's background?; and d) how does States of Being reflect on the changing conventions of documentary photography and visual memoir?

Methodology The spring 2014 edition of Aperture Magazine, Documentary, Expanded, alludes to a broadened playing field of documentary photography, in which photographers have become publishers and editors, etc., adapting to a porous and exploded image economy, offering more means than ever before by which to take and disseminate photographs. Smart phones and platforms such as Instagram and Facebook have made it possible for novice photographers to post relatively high-quality images with ease and expedience, so that the traditional modes of distribution are no longer the most practical or efficient. The consequence of this has been no less than a paradigm shift among documentary photographers, who are no longer the gatekeepers to a compelling eye-witness account. Globalized systems and a surge of self-appointed reportage has led to a re-negotiation of roles and terms defining documentary photography. As Ariella Azoulay notes, 'The widespread use of cameras by people around the world has created more than a mass of images; it has created a new form of encounter...thus opening new possibilities of political action and forming new conditions for its visibility.'9 9

Azoulay, Ariella. 'Photography and Its Citizens.' By Nato Thompson. Aperture

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The traditional photographer no longer has a privileged place in the production of imagery, and this collapsing of prescribed roles has inspired new protocols for storytelling. It has engendered a participatory culture—one less of 'them' and more of 'us.' Photojournalists are synthesising multiple viewpoints for a composite, neutral rendering of events. Take, for example, the 'experimental social media project' Basetrack, in which founders Teru Kuwayama and Balazs Gardi documented approximately 1,000 United States Marines who were part of the first Battalion, Eighth Marine Regiment, during their deployment to southern Afghanistan in 2010-11.

Conceived as a way to connect Marines and their families via a WordPress blog, Flickr and primarily Facebook page, Basetrack orchestrated dialogue and brought closer to the public the counterinsurgency, fresh in 2010 albeit its unfolding ten years after the start of the war.10 A small team of embedded photographers worked on the frontlines to shoot moments ranging from the extraordinary to the mundane and even bureaucratic.

(Frequently aired on the Facebook feed were complaints about 'uniform Nazis' enforcing a clean-shaven and put-together corps.) Leaving largely behind the tropes of war photography, including explosions, injuries and death, they photographed soldiers in periods between combat, sheltering their faces from dust storms (Fig. 2), flashing their tattoos or brandishing guns. Expanses of desert and an IED detector Labrador, e.g. were impartially captured, to dislodge fantasies about the ubiquitous violence of war. These images demonstrated an intimate engagement with the subject matter, highlighting a shared rather than observed experience.

The task of an alternative photography is to incorporate photography into social and political memory, instead of using it as a substitute which encourages the atrophy of any such memory.... For the photographer this means thinking of her or himself not so much as a reporter to the rest of the world but, rather, as a recorder for those involved in the events photographed. The distinction is crucial.11

As if in response to the above statement made by the critic John Berger in 1978, Basetrack sought to mediate the divide between their subjects and audiences. 'A core piece of the mission of the project was to tackle the abstraction of 'over there.''12 The project was progressive in its integrated social media strategy. Moreover, it sought to close the psychological gap between the Marines and their families by disengaging from the sensationalist visual lexicon often deployed by photojournalists. 'Why make a Magazine: Documentary, Expanded, Issue #214 (Spring 2014): pp. 53.

10 Ritchin, Fred. 'Of Them, and Us.' Aperture Magazine: Documentary, Expanded, issue #214 (Spring 2014): p. 44.

11 John Berger, as cited in Ritchin, Fred. 'Of Them, and Us.' Aperture Magazine: Documentary, Expanded, issue #214 (Spring 2014): p. 42.

12 Ibid, p. 45.

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spectacle out of that which is already such an intensely lived experience?' its contributors seemed to ask.13 Their position was predicated on habits formed in the twentieth century, when a rational perspective accepting photography as an interpretive medium was subsumed by a culture giving freedom to the press to disseminate images as if they were empirical pieces of evidence. In fact, the photograph cannot be separated from the photographer, nor can it function as a replacement in the storytelling process.

Photographs are mere signs—illusive no matter how real they appear. The commonplace conflation has given rise to the photograph as an index of accountability, but this approach must be carefully monitored, for it could deceptively negate the need for a human interlocutor and in so doing, demolish social memory.

In 2008, Ariella Azoulay's The Civil Contract of Photography engendered a critical, postmodern reading of the photographic medium, 'regularizing' the relationships between photographers, subjects and viewers, to refute Susan Sontag's bare act of 'shooting' or Roland Barthes's 'capturing an effervescent moment.' She echoed Berger's questioning of the standalone photograph, holding that it is but one piece of the puzzle. Limited in its scope to exactly what the narrator of the story deems is important, it will be prone to manipulation and censorship, especially as the craft of documentation implies a conscious cropping of objects and/or people.13 Our understanding of what documentary photography should do has been apparently affected by our preferred definition of the term document, which has drifted from its original meaning to accommodate a connotation of irrefutability. In an exchange between theorist Thomas Keenan and artist Hito Steyerl, the etymology of the word is examined to reveal a meaning divergent from that which is ascribed to it today. Keenan points out that the earlier association of the word, from the Latin docere, 'to teach,' may be less misleading than our current one 'to prove,' in that it would lend itself to fewer interpretations of the document as an independent object-in-itself (thus imbued with unfair expectations of truth or verisimilitude).14 If we accept the earlier definition of the word, bound up with pedagogy, a subtle but crucial distinction becomes clear. The question of authenticity is not so foregrounded, as the document itself does not retain a tie to what happened, in Keenan's words, 'by virtue of its specimen or exemplary status,' so much as it points to a doubling or replication of what happened, according to the eye of the beholder or, in this case, 13

Azoulay, Ariella. 'Photography and Its Citizens.' By Nato Thompson. Aperture Magazine: Documentary, Expanded, Issue #214 (Spring 2014): p. 53.

14 Keenan, Thomas and Steyerl, Hito. What Is a Document?' Aperture Magazine: Documentary, Expanded, Issue #214 (Spring 2014): p. 60.

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teacher.15 In its didactic application, it is the lesson rather than the happening that retains primacy, so that we are closer to Azoulay's claims that the document does not speak for itself but instead interpolates in a network of human relationships.

Salman Rushdie made an interesting statement in his introduction to Taryn Simon's An Index of the Hidden and Unfamiliar. Speaking about her method of shining a light on strange places in the American cultural fabric, he commented, 'Democracy needs visibility, accountability, light. It is in the unseen darkness that unsavoury things huddle and grow.'16 Here he has infused the photographic medium with an ethical dimension.

His sentiment is symptomatic of a deeply ingrained allying of social cooperation to light and illicit activities to darkness, and it references a culture fixated on surveillance and policing of immoral behaviour that has, in a sense, compounded the function of photography. This notion of transparency, in the sense of accountability, opens up the door for photography as an expository agent of what would have otherwise been kept behind closed doors. Of course the inverse of transparency is opacity, or what is hidden from view.

In the context of our project, transparency was a premise speaking to both form and content, that seemed to encapsulate most of the images in one way or another.

Evoking the material quality of film, it also interestingly signalled lucid 'savoury' and nebulous 'unsavoury' spaces. The photograph's countenance of objectivity despite its potential to indict or vindicate was a concern in taking forward States of Being. We agreed a continuous back and forth with the images would provide more insight.

Outputs In 1975, the French novelist Georges Perec wrote a semi-autobiographical work called W ou le souvenir d'enfance. His endeavour was focused around a single memory, which for him had been 'deeply occluded, deeply buried and in some sense denied.'17 It was in searching through photographs and descriptions of photographs that the author was able to retrieve from his subconscious the dormant memory.

For States of Being, I envisioned a similar cathartic process. Maajid was given little direction except for a basic rundown of the fundamental mechanics of the camera. He was encouraged to take photographs liberally and with minimal attention to the strength of the composition (the camera was set to automatic focus so as not to detract from

15

Ibid.

Rushdie, Salman. Foreword to Taryn Simon: An American Index of the Hidden and Unfamiliar (Hatje Cantz, 3 edition July 2013): p. 7.

17 Perec, Georges. 'The Work of Memory.' By Frank Venaille. Monsieur Bloom (first published in 1979): p. 128.

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this spontaneity).18 We had no expectations for the photographs but hoped that they might be a portal into those shadowy areas of his book that were left untouched.

Our preferred way of working involved Joy and I hashing out ideas over email while Maajid and I took photographs whenever the mood struck us. We chose to stick with Joy's camera so that we would not sacrifice on the quality of the images while being able to easily and cheaply develop the prints. Every so often, we would all convene to collectively peruse the photographs. This ensured a continuous dialogue between theory and praxis.

As many of the photographs were oriented around sensitive themes of a religious or political nature and would have direct consequences for us, we had to adopt a method of editing that was conducive to everyone's safety. So as not to hinder the fluidity of the picture taking process, Joy and I urged Maajid to avoid censoring his images as he took them but instead to redact them once they were printed. This tampering with the photographs would be a reminder of his highly controlled and policed public image. It would also mirror one of the tactics of Basetrack, in which custom-built custom software allowed for a designated military officer to black out any imagery or text that concerned him.

For this reason, certain of the images are marked by red ink. A photograph of Maajid's son's school, for example, has been vandalised in this fashion. Already blocked by a partition of iron bars, the building is rendered completely anonymous (Fig. 4). This doctoring of the image creates an emotive and legalistic aesthetic device pointing directly to that which is not for public consumption. It also calls to mind the illusive nature of the documentary photograph, which might presuppose a higher degree of fact or reality. The forced blacking out of information is a signpost of selective memory and trauma.

In order to fully experience the relationships between images, it was necessary to bring all of them together and arrange them in different ways. Joy organised them on a table, in a contiguous formation, each of them touching another one on all four sides, and videoed the arrangement, in gesture of deliberate documentation. I then spread them out, in no discernible order, and shuffled them around, so that the images would clash and mesh in different ways. This allowed us to play with all their various juxtapositions and better sight the recurring nuances, textures and leitmotifs.

18

Correspondence with Joy and Maajid, see Appendix D, p. 1. Introducing Maajid to the project, Joy wrote: 'It would be wrong to pursue any conscious attempts to gain artistic merit as a progression into this would distract from the focus on your representational choices. A snapshot aesthetic is actually ideal!'

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Immediately, we noticed a dialectic of vulnerability and security. Paramedics and police officers were frequently captured. Some of these images are playful or ironic—one of a security guard (or trash collector?) lugging bags of refuse to a dump site, for example.

The man walks on the central axis of a skewed picture plane, directly below a folding car, in an extremely discomfiting formal composition. In another image, two police officers stand awkwardly in front of a construction site (Fig. 5). The whole scene appears rigidly posed, as it was of course incumbent on Maajid to ask their permission before he took a photograph. Reinforced safety measures in private spaces, such as drawn curtains and a hotel door bolted shut (Fig. 6), as well as other images of domesticity—a female silhouette in the kitchen—hint at the daily risks Maajid takes in continuing his work.

Some of the images seemed explicitly to refer to our dual concept of transparency. In one, a camera man leans over the back of a passenger seat and looks through the viewfinder of his fully equipped apparatus, squinting and poised to take a photograph (Fig. 7). The soft daylight on the right side of his body and his hand gently flopped over the seat give the image an almost painterly feel. Similarly, a translucent shower pane obfuscates a figure in various degrees, so that the image looks like a ghostly double exposure. Finally, in a series we took in the Hayward Gallery's Light Show, the light assumes a tactile quality, as if enshrouding the subject (Fig. 8).

It was clear that some of the photographs belonged in groupings or pairs. For Joy, these were interesting because they bookmarked an event that would have compelled Maajid to take a second look and attempt to document it twice. For me, what was interesting was the hardly perceptible differentiation between the photographs, that would nonetheless dramatically alter the constitution of each image. Sometimes, for example, a figure could suddenly be found when everything else remained the same (Fig. 9). In the space between shooting the two images, there was time for a person to exit or enter the frame. The tenuous presence or absence of a body gave the pictures an active quality, also calling to mind the elusive subject à la Demos. Elaborating a dialogue of seen and unseen, these photographic 'diptychs,' as they came to be known, seemed also to reproduce the fickle nature of memory, which waxes and wanes in unpredictable patterns. We decided these should be displayed in light boxes illuminating the anxious repetition and tension between frames.

At the crux of our project is a photograph of Maajid's mug shot, which he stole from his prison file when he was released and now carries in his wallet (Fig 10). This image, taken at the time of his internment in 2002, after he had been held in a torture centre for four days, shows Maajid wearing a repugnant expression and holding up a green tablet on which are the Arabic symbols of his prison number. Joy took a photo of the shot, which she wanted to pair with an image of Maajid facing her in a similar way, from

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inside our home. She had noted that strangely our living room and the wall of the Egyptian prison are the same colour.

However, when Maajid decided to have tattooed on his back his prison number, the camera switched hands to me. I took photographs during and after the application of his tattoo. We all agreed the repurposed number was a powerful insignia sealing between past and present iterations of a transformed person. To illustrate this symbolic elision we would pair one of my images of the freshly laid ink with the mug shot where the same series of Arabic symbols is recognisable. In this dual portrait, there is a striking dialectic of captivity and liberation, and an instantaneous transition from resistance to surrender, with the stigma of the number paradoxically removed as it is permanent inscribed on the skin.

In the end, we made three lists of images—one for each of Joy and my favourites, as well as another for the images that crossed over into each category. 19 From 306 images, we ended up culling a selection of seventy-two. Not surprisingly, many of our selections pivoted around themes of rule abiding or breaking, whether it be church- or state-sanctioned. These documented Maajid and my experiences in London, Montreal, Istanbul, Sydney and Granada, over the course of seventeen months.

Joy also contributed several films, which are now centrepieces of the project. First, she shot two ten-minute loops of significant sites where Maajid's story unfolded. The first of these 'memory theatres' is of a small concrete plot of Russell Square where he lived in his car after his ex-wife separated from him on the basis of irreconcilable differences; the second is of a derelict cafe on Brick Lane where he tendered his resignation at HT (a poetic Coming Soon sign hangs from torn scaffolding as passers by go indifferently on their way). These 'memory theatres' are at once completely vacant and charged with emotive content.

Second, Joy produced a single-channel montage of sound and images, in which she overlaid on a slideshow of the photographs a recording of an interview Maajid gave citing his reasons for turning toward extremism. I had trouble with this audio-visual pastiche, because it seemed too heavy-handed. Maajid's voiceover distracted from the images themselves, in that it provided a fixed annotation that would be hard to decouple from any independent interpretation. Moreover, I felt it was important for the diverse media to interlock on a formal, rather than conceptual, level. My suggestion to Joy was to slow the whole video down, attributing more time per slide so that a narrative could emerge through images, not just the overlaid commentary. In addition, I thought if should break up or loop the audio, it could be reflective of a torturous thought process.

19

Correspondence with Joy and Maajid, see Appendix D: p. 9.

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For her final film, Joy went to Maajid's original home in Southend to record places where his political militarization took root. In one of two channels of the film, she walks on the sand of the beach as water laps up against the shore. The seascape is a peaceful backdrop on which one can imagine the painful history of Maajid's early life unfolding. An Egyptian obelisk seems to forecast the events to come.

For this part of the work, Joy was influenced by the Israeli artist Ori Gersht, who is known for his poignant studies on memory, loss and trauma. Although her treatment is quite different from his, the film resembles aspects of his two-channel Will You Dance for Me. In this work, images of a Holocaust survivor are juxtaposed with unpeopled scenes from a barren snow scene. This non-specific scene is understood to be a site of great significance for the subject of the film, but the relationship between her and the landscape is never explicitly disclosed.

The second channel of this film is Joy's slow pan over the photographs laid out on the table. They are arbitrarily juxtaposed, except for the images we had decided should be grouped in pairs. In order that the approach would be 'organic,' Joy filmed them without planning her approach. In response to my suggestion of using repeated clips of audio in places, she started and stopped the camera at one minute seven seconds into the film.

Joy and I have discussed various ways of implementing audio. One idea I had was to record a conversation between myself and Maajid about plans he has to reimagine the characters from his time in prison in a satirical, Orwellian format. Another idea Joy had was to record a monologue by Maajid written by both of us that would make the installation accessible to those viewers who come to his story fresh: I still feel strongly [the audio] should be a monologue from Maajid, exploring his own ideas around identity. When I say this I don't mean to suggest anything prescriptive, I mean closer to poetic prose, which we could interject into the footage that is free of Maajid's photographs so that the words aren't perceived to be directly related to individual images.

I think that were you to write something together it would be really powerful, and gives us a better opportunity to explore Maajid's relationship with his son and absence in the images.20

This past December, Maajid discovered a rare audio recording of himself from 2006 ranting against Israel at a London "al-Quds Day" rally outside the US embassy. He uses inflammatory language while pointing at the American embassy, alleging human rights abuses by the US against the Palestinian people (See Fig. 11 for an image from this 20

Correspondence with Joy and Maajid, see Appendix D: p. 11.

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rally). Maajid commented, 'This is a classic example of the Islamist 'half-truth' narrative, in this case at a rally in an attempt to rabble rouse. Rachel and I think it could work at the exhibition, but only if interspersed with contrary current speeches so that no one leaves thinking this is still what I believe.'

I have started to construct on GarageBand an original sound piece for room one of the installation, to correspond with Joy's two-channel film. It would be synchronised with the scene changes, to create a vaguely cinematic effect. At one time Maajid also wanted to include hip-hop tracks that were influential to him. Barring any copyright issues, I would like to integrate samples of these tracks, along with his speeches, as found sound objects which I distort. My objective here would be to underline the malleability of the narrative through the medium of sound. When audio is repeated, the phonetics of the words start surfacing and overtaking the syntactical pull of the narrative, and this breaking away or abstracting from the language could represent a traumatic process. In a recording that is jumbled up or manipulated, there is the perceptible departure from coherence that might also reflect an interior struggle.

In the second room of the installation will be a table where viewers can sift through prints and other selected material. White gloves will be provided for handling the visual ephemera. This 'archive' will be a reflective space where visitors can reconstruct Maajid's story as they wish. We are also thinking about providing a stack of 'takeaway' photographs from which visitors can retain a physical souvenir (or meme) from the installation. This would recall Steyerl's 'poor' migratory image, which is judged not by its resolution but by its velocity and speed. Anchored in an overarching 'circulatory system of desire and exchange,' the poor image is transformative, shedding and accumulating meaning depending on its context. 21 The collaborative process and dispersion of images from the archive room would be a tangible reflection of the online systems and networks that have so strongly impacted the documentary genre.

Evaluation of my process and conclusions In summary, Joy's impetus for States of Being—transposing the perspective of the 'traditional' photographer to the subject—was expanded upon primarily for practical reasons. Because Maajid could not document events we felt were too important to omit (e.g., his tattoo, etc.), we made a decision to digress from this initial structure. Anyway, we reasoned that the itinerant camera added flexibility matching the ethos of the current climate of documentary photography. Like Basetrack, our project aspired to uncover essential aspects of Maajid's life, without resorting to staged or melodramatic imagery. Incorporating multiple points of view, we could introduce new and unexpected angles.

21

Steyerl, Hito. The Wretched of the Screen. Edited by Julieta Aranda, Brian Kuan Wood, Anton Vidokle. e-flux journal (September 2012): p. 5.

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From the outset, there was a shared concern among my advisers that my proximity to the subject matter would cloud a self-reflexive approach to the research. This project presented an issue of conflicting interests. At first, it was decided that I should pursue a comparative study in which 'a parallel historical or contemporary example of an exhibition alongside [my] own project' would give me 'greater access to a more reflexive set of insights about [my] own curatorial etc. process.'22 This iteration of my essay I called Transparencies: a comparative study, negotiating seen and unseen. I had several ideas for parallel works that were relevant to certain aspects of my project, but I could not settle on a suitable reference for a comprehensive comparative study. I felt I was too often cherry-picking aspects to accommodate the comparison, and I did not want to be forcing links between the two discrete projects.

I am not in a position to ascertain whether or not I was able to maintain an appropriate level of distance from the project. Perhaps this would be the case, however, with any project involving a subject with whom I have a personal relationship. What I can say is that I do not feel I reserved for this project any more or less emotional energy than I would have otherwise. My focus remained on the unification and presentation of all its disparate elements. The content of the images themselves did not prove to be a distraction.

Certain technical aspects of the installation have been left unfinished. For example, I would like to overlay on the film scenes of Essex, strips of text from the audio clip taken for Joy's first film, in which Maajid recalls his priming to extremism by knife attacks, etc.

This testimony would make an interesting if slightly abrasive texture on top of the nonnarrative visuals. The combination of vacant space and emotive text could also symbolize an abandoned narrative.

Eventually, Joy would like to include photographs from Pakistan, an integral part of Maajid's work that has been as of late on hold, out of concerns for our safety. She had tentative plans to film Mazra Tora prison, as a counterpoint to the Egyptian obelisk in Essex, but has not yet been able to obtain clearance to do this. In the meantime, she may build on the collection of memory theatres with other local sites.

One aspect we have sorely neglected is a virtual accompaniment to the installation. Joy and I have made plans to create a Kickstarter campaign, but we could also surely make better use of Maajid's online followings (his Twitter account alone would reach 20,000+ viewers), by linking a microsite or online photo and video sharing application to his social media accounts. Also considering the urgency of much of his work and the 22

Correspondence with Professor Annie E. Coombes, December 12, 2013.

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positive impact the photographs could make, it is important they are immediately accessible to the public. For funding purposes, this would also make our impact more measurable.

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Selected Bibliography Acconci, Vito. 'Public Space in a Private Time.' Critical Inquiry, Vol. 16, No. 4 (Summer 1990). Print.

Azoulay, Ariella. Civil Contract of Photography (New York: Zone Books, 2008).

Azoulay, Ariella. 'Photography and Its Citizens.' By Nato Thompson. Aperture Magazine: Documentary, Expanded, Issue #214 (Spring 2014): pp. 52-7. Print.

Bachelard, Gaston. The Poetics of Space (Boston: Beacon Press, 1994).

Barthes, Roland. Camera Lucida. Reflections on Photography. Translated by Richard Howard (London: Vintage Books, 1993).

Critchley, Simon; Bernasconi, Robert, Ed. The Cambridge Companion to LĂŠvinas (Cambridge University Press, 2002), p. 11.

Demos, T.J. 'Life Full of Holes,' Grey Room, no. 24 (Fall 2006): pp. 72-88.

Derrida, Jacques. Archive Fever. A Freudian Impression. Translated by Eric Prenowitz (Chicago and London: The University of Chicago Press, 1996). Online.

Rushdie, Salman. Foreword to Taryn Simon: An American Index of the Hidden and Unfamiliar (Hatje Cantz, 3 edition July 2013): pp. 5-10.

'Emmanuel LĂŠvinas.' Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (First published Sun., Jul. 23, 2006; substantive revision Wed., Aug. 3, 2011): http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/levinas/#TraOthSam Emmelheinz, Irmgard. 'For a Politics of Imaging Non-Citizenship.' La Fabrique des Images (28 February - 11 May 2013). Online.

Keenan, Thomas and Steyerl, Hito. 'What Is a Document?' Aperture Magazine: Documentary, Expanded, Issue #214 (Spring 2014): pp. 58-65. Print.

Kuwayama, Teru. 'Basetrack.' By Michael Farmighetti. Aperture Magazine: Documentary, Expanded, issue #214 (Spring 2014): pp. 118-7. Print.

Laplanche, Jean. Life and Death in Psycho-analysis (Baltimore, Johns Hopkins University Press, 1976), pp. 19-20.

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Mayes, Stephen. 'Toward a New Documentary Expression.' Aperture Magazine: Documentary, Expanded, issue #214 (Spring 2014): pp. 32-5. Print.

Meiselas, Susan. 'Documentary Expanded.' By Chris Boot. Aperture Magazine: Documentary, Expanded, issue #214 (Spring 2014): pp. 26-31. Print.

Nawaz, Maajid. Radical: My Journey from Islamist Extremism to a Democratic Awakening (Lyons Press, October 2013).

Perec, Georges. 'The Work of Memory.' By Frank Venaille. Monsieur Bloom (first published in 1979). Print.

Ritchin, Fred. 'Of Them, and Us.' Aperture Magazine: Documentary, Expanded, issue #214 (Spring 2014): pp. 42-7. Print.

Steedman, Carolyn. 'The space of memory: in an archive.' History of the Human Sciences, Vol. 11 No. 4 (November 1998): pp. 65-83. Online.

Steyerl, Hito. The Wretched of the Screen. Edited by Julieta Aranda, Brian Kuan Wood, Anton Vidokle. e-flux journal (September 2012). Online.

Tagg, John. The Burden of Representation (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 1988).

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Selected Illustrations

Fig. 1 Yto Barrada. Le Détroit—Avenue d’Espagne, Tangier, 2000. From A Life Full of Holes: The Strait Project (1998–2004). Courtesy Galérie Polaris, Paris.

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Fig 2 Balazs Gardi. Afghan National Army soldier shelters his face with a plastic bag against a dust storm at Combat Outpost 7171, Helmand Province, Afghanistan, October 28, 2010.

Fig. 3 Left: my silhouette in our kitchen in London; right: my reflection in a hotel shower, Montreal, March 2013. Photo: Maajid Nawaz.

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Fig. 4 A redacted image concealing the name of Maajid's son's school, glimpsed from behind an iron partition. Photo: Maajid Nawaz.

Fig. 5 A pair of police officers standing idly before a construction site on Euston Road, London, May 2013. Photo: Maajid Nawaz.

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Fig. 6 Above: a bolted hotel door; below: our hands interlaced, Montreal, March 2013.

Photo: Maajid Nawaz.

Fig. 7 A camera man readying himself for a photograph, October 2013. Photo: Maajid Nawaz.

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Fig. 8 Maajid's silhouette in the Light Show at the Hayward Gallery in London, May 2013.

Photo: Rachel Maggart.

Fig. 9 Reflection of a passer by in the window faรงade of Divine Canvas tattoo parlour in Islington, London, May 2013. Photo: Maajid Nawaz.

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Fig. 10 Maajid's mug shot, taken after his release from Egypt's torture facilities at al-Gihaz, the State Security headquarters in Cairo, before his internment at Mazra Tora prison in Madinat alNasr, Cairo, Egypt, 5 April 2002. Photo: Joy Stacey.

Fig. 11 Maajid ranting outside of the US Embassy in 2006.

Please refer to the .zip file enclosed in the electronic submission of this essay for additional selected images.

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Appendix A: Transcript of Joy's Pecha Kucha talk What I am going to talk to you about today is an ongoing collaboration that I am running with former Islamist Maajid Nawaz, and this first image was taken of Maajid in 2002 as he was being imprisoned for trying to overthrow the Egyptian government. It is important to mention at this point that while our collaboration combines work which we have both created, bar the last four slides of this presentation the majority of the images I am showing you tonight have been taken by him.

Maajid as he was being arrested in 2002. Courtesy BBC.

With Maajid I have created an alternative construct for documentation. The concept began in response to my own frustrations at my inability to document other people’s lives, I am particularly interested in photojournalism and politically significant stories, yet the photographic representation of another person is so objectifying and reliant on the photographer’s perception of their subject that I have found my own perspective inadequate. I feel that, for me, there is an imbalance of power in the relationship between a photographer and their subject, and this is a relationship that I am experimenting with bending in order to redress this. I should clarify that I don’t believe there is an all-out solution to this problem, however I am interested in seeing what can be gained when conventional methods are disrupted.

I came across Maajid at the TEDx conference last autumn and was drawn to his story for a number of reasons. Maajid grew up in Essex and as a teenager became involved in the Hizb ut Tahrir radical Islamist group. They believe in founding a Caliphate- a non secular state run under a specific interpretation of Islamic law- and that they need to achieve this through the overthrow of governments. Maajid travelled around the world recruiting members until he was arrested in Cairo and held in Tora political prison. He

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was tortured and held for 4 years, becoming an Amnesty International prisoner of conscience due to his non-violent (if not radical) views, before he was released in 2006 and returned to London. A year after his return he resigned from the HT and founded the Quilliam foundation, a leading think tank in counter extremism.

Maajid has faced serious consequences for his political conversion; he had to leave his wife, lost his friends and his home, and faces death threats, some even from Al-Qaida sources. More recently he has lost access to his own son. He is also a pivotal political figure, advising Western governments while promoting democratic politics in Pakistan, where he helped to establish the Islamist movement in the first place.

While Maajid’s story holds a broad relevance to the present and I feel demonstrates the globalised nature of contemporary political conflict, a lot of the issues he confronts cannot be directly photographed. Combined with my own concerns with photographic representation, this presented me with a challenge.

Maajid is an articulate communicator, something which his career has benefitted from on either side of his political past. So my challenge to him was to tell his story himself through the restrictive medium of photography, with a particular focus on the personal impact of his redirection that is not at the forefront of his public image. I wanted to see how he would approach photographic communication, while exploring what vulnerabilities come with publically working against a radicalism that he used to ascribe to.

The images that I am showing you tonight have been taken over the first month of what will be a longer term collaboration, and are produced in regular conversation. I have given Maajid minimal direction, and there are narratives attached to each image.

Themes which are already reoccurring are his personal security, his fears for the safety of those closest to him and his identity as an English Pakistani Muslim working in such diverse spheres. As the project progresses I am expecting the issues of his torture and his son’s absence to be particularly challenging.

This work is operating as an on going visual conversation, with myself taking the role primarily of curator or director- I increasingly struggle to see myself as a photographer in the conventional sense- however I have of course been making corresponding work myself, which I will come back to in a moment.

A highly significant role in this work is taken by Maajid’s fiancée, Rachel, who is a postgraduate Art History student and appears in some of these images. Rachel has joined the collaboration and has taken the role of an intermediary, with has been crucial in prompting Maajid’s thought processes. It is a very interesting part of the process to work with them both, and the project is enormously benefitting from the input of

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someone with a both a clear understanding of my concept and a close relationship with Maajid.

In terms of my own side to this visual conversation, I have slowly begun to pick up on symbolisms that anchor recurring themes in Maajid’s images, and move them into a more structured form. The first of these elements has come in the form of looped 10minute films of locations where significant events occurred in Maajid’s story, and I have made very simple films of these spaces as “theatres of memory”. I have made 2 of these so far, the first of these is of a parking space in Russell Square where Maajid lived in his car after he left the HT and his ex-wife, and I was directly inspired to film the spot by his own images of the space. The second of these films is of the restaurant in Brick Lane where he resigned from HT. I am currently making plans to film the most significant space in Maajid’s story and travel to Cairo to film the Tora prison where he was held.

The second element I have tied in is in a dual portrait. Maajid stole his mug shot from his prison file when he was released, an image that was taken after he had been held in a torture centre for 4 days, and which he now carries in his wallet. My image of this is the first of the two portraits, while the second image is of Maajid last week, taken in his home. Last week he had his prison number tattooed onto his back, symbolically claiming his time there, rather than letting it claim him. Strangely his living room and the wall of the Egyptian prison are the same colour.

Obviously this project is still in the very early days and its form will evolve with time, but I hope that I have been able to provide you with an interesting beginning tonight, thank you very much.

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Appendix B: First draft of ideal exhibition schematic States of Being is an audio-visual memoir made of sound, photographic documents and film. It articulates the memory of a former Amnesty-adopted prisoner of conscience – now a political campaigner – who disavowed his views and underwent an ideological transformation in the public eye. The title a nod to TJ Demos' Life Full of Holes, in which Demos describes the stateless individual as one represented by his absence, the installation bears geopolitical overtones and alludes to an amorphous, non-linear pathway to identity, a messy process involving constantly shifting frameworks and unstable narratives. These narratives have been a matter of life or death for the subject of the installation, his various layers and incarnations cut from adopting and then disavowing a narrative he now seeks to contradict.

This installation extends over two rooms, one with a two-channel film displaying 'sites of consciousness' overlaid with an original sound collage (made from found sound objects), one with a participatory, light box archive through which visitors can sift using white gloves. In the second room, selected other photographic prints are mounted in separate light boxes on the walls, the subject's prison photograph a focal point here.

Two separate, original sound pieces permeate both rooms.

A placard or information sheet at the entrance of room one contextualises the installation in plain terms, its subject matter as well as conceptual foundation. The following quote is set in a conspicuous place: I am interested in seeing what can be gained when conventional methods are disrupted. -Anonymous The ambiguity of the author underlines a conceptual pillar of the installation, while speaking to the points of view of each of the three contributors.

Room one is comprised of filmic memory theatres, conveyed over two channels, displaying important contexts where the subject's story unfolded. The first channel displays local contexts (Essex, Brick Lane and Russell Square), while the second displays remote (deeply buried) contexts (Dome of the Rock). A placard will be mounted alongside each channel of film, providing a brief description of location and significance.

The original sound piece in room one corresponds to the two-channel film, in that it is definitively non-narrative. It is synchronised with scene changes, so that the composition is fluid and appears vaguely cinematic. It is also reflective, made from excerpts of oratory (Hizb ut-Tahrir diatribe against Israel), interviews and debates (Anjem Choudary?), as well as hip-hop and jazz tracks (The Revolution Will Not Be Televised?), which act as found sound objects, juxtaposed in no particular order and manipulated to the point of oblivion (sped up or slowed down, looped, jumbled up etc.).

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This mash-up blending past and present evokes the torturous road to identity that the subject has taken, as well as the absence of the revolutionary. Any narrative content, any agenda is obliterated, reduced to static, so that his message muted. Like the photographic diptychs, it is at times recognisable, at times incomprehensible. Deeply emotive substance sounds like radio interference.

Maybe there are sounds of public transport, a hypnotic female bus conductor, announcing a name of a place, partly blotted out. Situating markers thwarted in their purpose to identify an individual, his private life.

Lines of text, extracted from the audio, are superimposed onto each of the scenes.

Words hinting at violence (knives, racism, etc.), will contrast their placid backdrops.

These correspond to the redacted audio, sometimes putting it into acute focus before fading and then leaving the viewer to annotate the rest. As memory theatres, these films are repositories of memory, belonging not only to the invisible narrator but also to the viewer, whose own memories of violence and safety give them a new dimension.

Interspersed between shots of the significant sites are duplicated or mirrored images that tell a collective story or produce a certain tension. Elaborating a dialogue of seen and unseen, peopled and unpeopled landscapes, these selected photographic diptychs accentuate the abandonment of the narrative as told by the video. Here, the shaky and iterative, duplicitous nature of memory is implicated, as well as the delicate, subjective nature of documentary, as dictated through the lens of the photographer. These diptych photographs are reflections of the fickle nature of memory, which waxes and wanes in unpredictable patterns, even sometimes presenting itself as truth or fact. Like memories of people we have known, tucked away in our subconscious, the figures of these dyadic sets appear sometimes accessible, sometimes elusive.

Room two is comprised of a light box archive of scattered photographs, where visitors can reconstruct the story however they like. Redacted, frayed, even torn in places, these are the pieces swept under the rug of the popular narrative. Here the process of memory is stressed (a process described by Laplanche as important as the thing for which we are searching (identity), in that the creation of the search invariably affects its object...).1 Visitors can recover the concrete after encountering the abstract.

On an uncluttered space of a wall in room two the subject's prison photograph hangs in a light box. Nearby hangs a print of his back, tattooed with the same Arabic symbols.

This forms another dichotomous construction: his former and disavowed beliefs, always defining him. Also nearby is a photograph of the subject on his release, creating a

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The object (the event, the happening, the story from the past) that we are searching for, which cannot be found, 'has been altered by the very search for it...that is not to say nothing is found, but that thing is always something else, a creation of the search itself and the time the search took'

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dialectic of captivity/freedom.

States of Being excludes its subject in all but one photograph.2 From an uncluttered wall space we are finally confronted by him, holding up his prison number (Fig. 1). He appears resistant to accept a series of Arabic symbols as a claim to his identity.

Nearby, however, a photograph of these symbols tattooed on his flesh witnesses a symbolic re-appropriation, reconciling past and present iterations of himself.

Other special prints (that of the subject being taken for imprisonment in 2002?) populate other wall space in room two. A translucent shower pane obfuscates a figure in various degrees. A building, unidentified as a result of its name having been marked out, is glimpsed through bars. A bolted hotel room. These images are spread across five photographic prints mounted in three separate light boxes. Each of these three is accompanied by a placard providing a brief description of time and place. Certain of these details are also redacted. This omission of sensitive information is a material signpost of selective memory and trauma, as well as vulnerability and security. elusiveness of memory (my ghostly image in the shower) The original sound piece in room two is fabricated from a monologue and/or conversation around taking and editing the photographs. At least two different voices are perceptible, one male and one female, sometimes dipping into a personal domain, which is painstakingly obscured. Again selective memory and trauma are evoked.

All of the audio-visual material in rooms one and two are both private and public, at once claimed and dispossessed by its subject, who is not there to protest. He is behind the scenes while pieces of his identity are scrutinised and fingerprinted, systematically re-appropriated. In this is a slippage between public and private memory.

At the exit of room two is a stack of takeaway photographic prints. Visitors are free to leave with one hard-copy vestige of the installation, on the back of which is printed or stamped the same series of Arabic numerals as is in the prison and tattoo photographs.

This is the physical meme they retain.

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Demos, T.J., Life Full of Holes, Grey Room, no. 24: Fall 2006, pp. 72-­‐88

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Appendix C: Action points, taken down 27 January 2014 • Rachel and Joy to iron out finer details of elevator pitch.

• Rachel, Joy and Maajid to brainstorm routes to sponsors and exhibition spaces.

• Rachel and Joy to pitch to galleries and potential sponsors, at networking

events and in online forums etc.

• Rachel and Joy to create a Kickstarter campaign, raising funds for equipment and installation space etc.

• Rachel and Joy to identify target grants and individuals for outreach. Arts Council, Delfina Foundation, Arts Quest, Ideas Tap? • Rachel and Joy to make schedule of outreach.

• For proposal: Rachel to work on curatorial and conceptual aspects; Joy to work on budget and technical aspects.

• Maajid to confirm legal / copyright restrictions on using excerpts of interviews, debates etc.

• Rachel and Joy to make sound pieces based on above.

• Rachel to ask her sister, Alison, about collaborating on making sound pieces.

• Rachel to ask her adviser, Annie Coombes, director of the Peltz Gallery at Birkbeck, about conditions for renting the space.

• Joy to ask TJ Demos to write essay and ask her friends at Brighton Arts Council for advice.

• Maajid to revisit his list of things to photograph and take more pictures!

• Rachel to take pictures as well.

• Maajid to collect prison photograph and anything else he would like to see in the archive room (legal documents, special objects etc.)

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Appendix D: Excerpts of correspondence with Joy and Maajid 11/23/2012, Maajid: Upon thinking about it, I’d like to explore vulnerability in the themes of a) my love life, b) my child, c) family relations d) friendships, e) privacy f) security g) mental and emotional state when reflecting on my past present and future activism.

11/24/2012, Joy: Thank you for taking the time to meet with me yesterday, it was great to talk it through and I am excited to be working with you.

Your online log is a very good idea, I've given our conversation a lot of thought as the extended time period changes the dynamic a little, so I think it would be wise to keep in conversation about your ideas as the work progresses.

Your list is very thorough, when it comes to Pakistan I think that we should see what comes out of the next few months first, it may or may not be necessary.

In terms of minimum numbers of images, how does 20 sound for each area? The more images produced through this the more thought will have to go in it and the progression of thought will be key to the narrative. I initially had thought that this work would be best presented as a chronological progression, however the themes might disrupt this, we will have to see how that works. At the end of this project we will have to consider weather it would benefit from an edit.

I also gave some thought to your comment about the standards of your images, and I feel quite strongly that it would be wrong to pursue any conscious attempts to gain artistic merit as a progression into this would distract from the focus on your representational choices. A snapshot aesthetic is actually ideal!

Another theme I thought was worth considering is the idea of self-surveillance, which after our conversation I now think is more relevant than I had realised. It is an interesting concept to respond to being observed by producing an observation of yourself, and I thought this article on Ai Weiwei might interest you http://www.guardian.co.uk/global/2012/apr/05/ai-weiwei-switches-off-studio-webcams 3/15/2013, Rachel: As promised I wanted to share a few thoughts which may only seem slightly divergent from what you proposed before, but which may also shift your focus to a conceptual premise underlining documentary and photographic practices, as you would like to explore them.

In thinking about what could make a compelling exhibition incorporating Maajid and the concept of vulnerability, it occurred to me it could be interesting to bring his photographs together under the simple framework of 'missing', considering What is obscured or omitted from Maajid's supposedly transparent public image? and How

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does one represent such an intensely scrutinized personality? Somehow I think this concept could open up the exhibition and allow more room for the images themselves to speak.

Because of the sensitive nature of Maajid's work, he is often forced to make decisions that would protect others close to him. These decisions carve out holes in his own personal narrative1 and are propagated in an overarching storyline, but the negative space or shadow of this reflection is particularly interesting to me, as it would also resemble the unexposed bits of an exhibition or photograph (not least in the documentary genre which might presuppose a higher degree of reality or truth).

For me the term 'missing' would also evoke taking refuge or hiding, either in concrete or abstract terms 2 ...people fleeing circumstances so as to become largely invisible; thoughts and images tucked away into the safe haven of the subconscious. As it concerns Maajid, this controlled formulation of identity, what we choose to foreground or background in our lives, seems especially relevant.

3/15/2013, Joy: I completely agree with you about the significance of negative space, I have been pondering this myself and I have come to the conclusion that an affective method would be to ask Maajid not to sensor his images too closely as he takes them, but instead to use a black pen to redact sensitive details once the images have been taken.

This solves a number of problems, and primarily creates an emotive and slightly legalistic aesthetic device which points directly to that which cannot be publicly viewed.

I also agree with you that the concept of vulnerability does not necessarily provide the clearest overarching concept, however I am wary of assigning a defined exhibition concept before the images have been made. 'Missing' seems to me to be in a positive direction that moves us forward, however at this point I would be concerned that it could be misconstrued as a professionalised focus on public image alone. For now I think that 'vulnerability' provides an open and humanising focus for Maajid as he is thinking through his images, but you are right that an exhibition concept will need to be adjusted so thank you for pointing it out! I think that this is something we should anticipate discussing in detail once we have images to work with, in my experience an organic approach can be extremely constructive.

3/16/2013, Rachel: Truthfully what I had in mind when I suggested it is his son, who has been all but absent in his life as of late. I felt it would be a way of acknowledging in an elegant way this deeply personal void in his life.

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What I meant by this is the void of his son, e.g., because he has protected my feelings.

How would this speak to the pairs of nearly identical photographs, whose only difference lies in the tenuous presence of a person inside the picture frame?

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One of the prevailing themes of this project has been absences... narratives stripped of their authors, or authors stripped of their narratives... look at Brick Lane, in particular: is it a highly charged site or a shoddy vestige of a disowned narrative?

4/15/2013, Joy: I've been thinking through Rachel's concept of "missing" and I have concluded that a more specific theme is certainly needed. How would you feel if we were to focus the project specifically on the personal impact of your imprisonment and political redirection? Reflecting on your book it has struck me that you have only alluded to aspects of the personal consequences that you have had to deal with, and the images you have taken so far certainly fit this theme. In terms of creating an accessible narrative it also opens up the project to an audience that might not know your back story.

I have also been thinking through the use of the images, as many of the images that you have shot so far respond to very complex memories. I feel that my initial concept of creating a chronological narrative does not do this credit, and as the work progresses I want to re-think how each image is treated. For example, the images of Rachel in the shower are beautiful and stand profoundly on their own, while the image of the iron comes with such a strong memory that I would be keen to find a way in which this could be documented along side it. There are also repeating images such as the wine glasses and the curtains which I think will be best shown along side one another to emphasise this repetition (I particularly like the curtains, they're very evocative!).

Along side this shift in treatment of the images, it has struck me that this shift would benefit from a sign of the on-going narrative between us as we progress- the work being exhibited as a form of conversation would help make it accessible to an audience3- Rachel I would be particularly interested to know what you think of this. In order to do this I was wondering how you would feel about my making some works to sit along side yours, for which I have a couple of ideas. Your tattoo particularly interests me and I think symbolises so many of the issues that we are discussing. I would like to photograph your tattoo in a style mimicking your prison photograph, and pair it with a photograph of your prison photograph (if that makes sense!). I think that the narrative between each image, particularly if it's taken while the tattoo is still very new, would sit along the theme I am suggesting and introduce your images.

I have also been thinking about the images you took of the parking space on Russell Square, and I am intrigued by the idea of the empty space that holds so much meaning.

If you are comfortable with the idea, I would like to make some simple films of the spaces in which profound events have occurred for you. For example, if I were able to film a still shot of the cafe in which you handed in your resignation to HT, it would create a 'theatre' in which moments that have redefined you played out. Sitting along side the images you are taking it would add context and dialogue.

4/15/2013, Rachel:

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Might Maajid and my recorded conversation come in here? If so, how could we exclude you from it?

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Perhaps this project can be a sort of antidote to that curtailed account of emotional process and personal trauma which was not fully elaborated in his memoir -- the 'missing' component if you will.

As a medium through which he can free himself up in 'talking' about these experiences thus, photography could function as a sort of alternative memoir space for Maajid, a place where he can express or redact himself without the imposing organising influence of a publisher etc.

So, in the context of the meaning of 'missing' for Maajid, the exhibition could also work as a kind of psychological counterpoint to the ideological and political.

Incidentally my rather 'ghostly' image in the shower4 photographs could entail some kind of supportive subsidiary corollary to this idea (a piece of information pointing to my intermittent if not entirely obvious influence over the course of the exhibition).

I love the idea of the repeated themes visually juxtaposed. I think the depth and personality to each image despite the fact that they are all very different will present interesting choices for stylistic execution in the exhibition.

Also your idea to include the dialogue between the three of us is a complex idea but intriguing one. I would only ask if presenting three points of view could take away from or convolute the message of Maajid's personal struggle? That said I very much like the idea of the interplay of the images themselves in symbolising this back-and-forth.

Perhaps if they were to in a sense 'whisper' our respective perspectives that could be compelling enough.

The iterative reproduction of Maajid's mugshot in an image of his tattoo would again speak to a prevalent theme in Maajid's life (captivity) and be a very powerful and emotive technique, perhaps even an indices of his coming full-circle since his imprisonment. As the visual sign of the tattoo would suggest reconciliation for him in terms of owning all of his experiences5, so could the medium of photography lend some kind of physical insight into previously underrepresented emotional discourse.

Absolutely I think it would be a good way of opening the exhibition as the conceptual space between 6 (Maajid's reflections and reminiscences vis à vis his captivity) is the space which all the other photographs will fill.

And I love the idea of your filming the spot on Russell Square that would also be shown in the still photographs. This in my mind would lend dynamism and interest to the exhibition while providing another repetitive support to exhibition themes. Would be

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In terms of this visual, smoke and mirrors is a very interesting concept that would also evoke photographic methods (early daguerreotypes, etc.) Excited thinking of our photographs from the Light Show exhibit alongside!

5 There is definitely something here, in the physical inscription of a traumatic experience (also alluding to others' traumatic experiences (Holocaust survivors, etc.), something that would not quell but only evoke more pain (a refusal to shed formative events).

6 Photography as a mediator between past and present, memories and reconciliation.

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very interesting to basically reconstruct what appear as on-the-surface emotional voids (or unpeopled places) that hold such individual weight and meaning for Maajid.

As it is we have irons, curtains, bodily markings... all signifiers of policed spaces in Maajid's world... I like how this is progressing thus far! And agree we should all get together to discuss soon.

4/16/2013, Maajid: I'd like to hear all your thoughts and offload my thoughts on the music component too.

In response to my question about the redacting, 4/25/2013, Joy: I could use some pointers on which details need redacting. I am expecting to cover people's faces and the name of your son's school, and I was wondering about the wine glass. Do let me know if there are any images that you are unhappy for me to show and if there are any other details that I have overlooked. If in any doubt I would encourage redacting details, it wont damage the meaning of the work and it's best to be cautious at this early stage.

4/26/2013 Maajid: Thanks for these, I’ve taken a look through them and the only thing I’d say you need to redact at this stage is the name of Ammaar’s school… Apart from that, if Rachel is comfortable with her image in the shower and her image by the sink, then feel free to use them. Maybe slightly blur Rachel’s face? Up to you and her really. I’ve figured that she and I are listed as engaged on Facebook, and so if people really wanted to they could find out what she looks like anyway.

5/1/2013, Joy: I've just uploaded clips from the two (as of yet unedited) films I've made and I'd love to know what you both think of them. They need some tarting up but they should give you a good idea of what I'm aiming to do, for the sake of my talk I'm referring to them as "theaters of memory", uncharacteristically romantic of me but hopefully descriptive! I've sent you 2minute clips, the full loops are 7-10 minutes.

I also potentially have something rather interesting to add to this. As I mentioned before, Ed Clark is planning on photographing Tora prison for a project of his own, and while this is dependent on more research into security he has said that in theory he's happy for me to join him. This means that I might be able to make a film of the prison similar to these, which I could maybe juxtapose in a 2 channel installation with a film made in London7, maybe of Russell Square. What do you think of this? I would be very excited to make this but I wanted to gauge both of your thoughts before I get carried away with myself!

5/2/2013, Rachel:

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This didn't happen, did it?

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Maybe I am a romantic but for me there is something poignant about the memory theater of the derelict cafe where Maajid put in his resignation. I love the Coming Soon sign as passers go indifferently on their way. What strikes me too about the Russell Square site is its seeming anonymity. If not for the occasional London cab I wouldn't know where to place it geographically.

I think juxtaposing images of Tora prison and Russell Square, for example, would illustrate a strong dialectic of captivity and refuge. I would just say, if you are interested in conveying this conceptual link, it may first have to be available in a narrowed thematic context. I hate to keep harping on this conversation and would not want to be prescriptive but I think the exploration of vulnerability, for example, would cast too wide a net on the images and possibly obscure this interplay. I suppose this is where there will be a continual back and forth between the images and your curatorial decisions...

5/3/2013, Rachel: Regarding the concept, I think continuing to observe the photographs for what they tell us would be the best exercise for now. Surely our concept will emerge from the latent content of the images, perhaps it is just a matter of teasing out further connections.

The concept of transparency, which emerged around 5/4/2013, but has since faded: Nat had a suggestion that I rather liked, I explained the problem of underpinning the concept and the flaws in the use of "vulnerability", and she suggested that "transparency" may be a better fit. I think that this nicely ticks both boxes, it suggests something more multifaceted than vulnerability while encompassing all that is missing.

My concern with the concept of missing was that it implies an understanding of what isn't missing in Maajiid's professional image, therefore tying it to a professional path and relying on knowledge which those coming to it new will not have. Transparency broadens the concept into a professional, political, social or photographic space for reflection, and grammatically has visual connotations which I feel resonate with the medium and the concept behind this kind of collaboration. What do you think? I've suggested we all get together some time soon and Natalie would love to.

I agree totally that transparency is a better way of characterising the photographs and would even speak to their viscosity and physical properties, for example, the photograph of me in the shower, which almost looks like a double exposure. I would love to discuss more and please thank Natalie for her contribution.

5/24/2013, Joy: http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/programmes/hardtalk/4931416.stm You sent me some readings on 5/25/2013. Of these, I think the following is particularly relevant: The last piece is by TJ Demos, the Art History course leader at UCL. His writing around human rights has impacted my thought process quite profoundly and while the relationship to my work with you both is indirect I am interested in his suggestion that

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the stateless person should be represented by their absence8- I see it as an antithesis to Levinas' original relation which I discussed in my dissertation. He also touches on Georgio Agamben's writing, a personal favorite of mine.

By the way, did you notice this:

I am seeing things in some of the photographs that were easiest to overlook. It is an ugly image, but the man (a security guard or trash collector?) is interestingly disorienting, as he walks on a central axis of the slightly skewed picture plane, directly below the folding car.

6/12/2013: I was also thinking it might be interesting if you considered photographing old photographs, personal or otherwise. The presence of them as an object or an image on a screen would be interesting and might allow you the space the reference the origins of some of your current images and ideas.

This may be when the idea of photographs in a separate vitrine or that viewers can sift through came about.

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We could do a lot with this. What I glean from 'the stateless person should be represented by their absence' is the person, so long as he is represented, is represented through a sociopolitical lens. Photography forms a buffer by which sociopolitical forces are paralyzed, or in essence frozen, for more sustained observation.

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7/13/2013, Joy: I do think the message of the work will emerge in perusing the photographs. I like how you indicate their active nature. They are in a conversation with us, as our thoughts are transferred to and from them.

I suppose we will have to come up with a space for the exhibition9, and that will also inform the presentation of the photographs? I may have some people to ask on this point (do you know Susan Mumford of Be Smart About Art?10, she is one person Maajid and I thought of who might have some advice).

That would be absolutely great to go through all the printed photographs together, once I get back. I will definitely let you know if I have any ideas while I'm here. Maajid will be visiting the first week in August, so hopefully we will get some good America-themed images as well.

10/14/2013, Joy: I have attached my very crude experimental film cut, should give you an idea of what I am considering. I'm interested in the scope of the last third, this wasn't filmed with a macro lens so it's unnecessarily blurry, but give you a rough idea! I think I am starting to picture a finished body of work and I would love to talk it through in detail with you. Are you free at all this week?

10/24/2013, Rachel: As I said, it's important to let the photographs speak louder than any overlaid audio. We don't want to be literal or heavy-handed in guiding the eye of the viewer. We should also be sensitive to constructing a formal back and forth between the images and any audio, video etc., especially as the content tends to be so inherently narrative and representational. Thematic as well as structural continuity will make a successful presentation of disparate elements in the exhibition setting.

We discussed maintaining a strong eye toward Maajid's agency as it plays out in the visuals., i.e., his physical orientation behind or in front of the camera lens, and what this might mean in the scheme of the narrative he once felt himself at the centre of.

Some questions that have remained at the heart of this project: • What happens when the ostensible subject becomes the photographer in the

triadic relationship of subject, photographer and viewer?

• What does ideological transformation (the life of Maajid) look like (e.g., his unchanging tattoo, his seeming stable roots in Essex, etc.)?

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Funding research.

'Here is Susan's business, so you can check it out. Maybe she would be able to provide advice on how to look for a venue for exhibiting. Also, her partner is a photographer, so he might have some ideas or at least mutual interests.'

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Below is a list of the photos we flagged earlier.

We had mutual liking for each of the below: 0023, 9734, 9736, 9737, 9756, 9782, 9783 (possibly the frontispiece for the exhibition?), 9812, 9817, 9826, 9851, 9868, 9871, 9873, 9875, 9878, 9926, 9931, the photo of me in the bathtub in Paris (this was in our Dropbox folder but not included on your drive, so it must be an iPhone pic). while I also liked: 0007, 0026, 0052, 0074, 0075, 9725, 9819, 9838, 9850, 9880, 9893, 9971 (this plays with the viewer's expectations, the loaded image of the visibly energised devout Muslim, who is in fact engaged in mundane conversation); you also liked: 0005, 0010, 0014, 0015, 0030, 0060, 0080, 0086, 9723, 9730, 9795, 9799, 9825 (I just noticed there's an interesting thread of the paramedics and police officers from 9825 to 9826 (safety and suppression?), 9842, 9852.

You mentioned you like the sense of deliberateness in photographs repeating imagery (e.g., 0014 and 0015; 9736 and 9737), that the persistent subject matter in these photographs would seem to have compelled Maajid to take a second look and document it.

I am big on the peopled and unpeopled dialectic running through many of the images (e.g. 0015 and 0016; 9766 and 9767; 9829 and 9831, especially 9991, 9992 and 9993, interestingly, the cat (the focal point) is the sole perceiver of the man in the lower right quadrant of the image). To me these images iterated slightly differently would evoke a hardly perceptible shift - one that nonetheless gives them an active quality.

The more I think about these subtle pairings, the more I like the idea of teasing them out in the context of our exhibition. They might speak to the binaries that are created between inexplicable areas of difference, when these binaries in actuality involve gradated regions of overlap.

I'm really excited about the way this is evolving conceptually, especially considering groupings of images as outlined above! Once you get the photographs printed, let's play with all their various juxtapositions.

My ideas, specifically on the video: Audio Take fragments of Maajid's voiceover, otherwise it's too leading, too distracting, too overpowering.

Maajid's audio drowns out the images.

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- Be choosy about what you want to tease out from Maajid's interview.11 - Notions of violence, extremism, ideological narrative, a caliphate.

- Our kitchen (?) Maajid's tattoo (violence to his flesh, his skin), images reflecting the rupture the narrative caused (empty hotel rooms).

Use the information you've got about these concepts -- the information you've got that would speak to their relevance in Maajid's life specifically.

Which images speak to these concepts? Don't be so explicit (police are too obvious, e.g.)

Which images unexpectedly, subtly speak to these concepts?

Think about what you are doing in terms of telling Maajid's story an alternate way.

Images They would speak louder on their own, without Maajid's annotations constantly interpreting them. Don't have them simply bolster his narrative.

Images should precede audio, not the reverse. Otherwise, what's the point?

Don't handhold viewer. Maajid's memoir has already told his story.

It goes from being linear, to nonlinear (images scattered on the table).

The interesting part is the tactility of the narrative, displayed in this way.

Perhaps if you filmed printouts of what photographs have already been shown, it would be stronger. Then you're directly linking the images to their active nature: their role in documenting Maajid's thoughts and memories.

The images should have their own internal logic, not that which you impose on them.

It's all too linear, too guided, too logical, too historical.

Advice Slow the whole thing down (text and images).

Slow down the slideshow, attributing more time per slide.

Let narrative emerge through images, not overlaid commentary.

Break up Maajid's thoughts; break up narrative. Images are inherently nonlinear. Let your project respect this fact.

Loop fragments of his speech (because what he's explaining makes no sense on its own, really)12: Something else has to happen What is that something else, per their discussion? An ideological narrative (you're already telling it with the images, as Maajid's ideological narrative is embedded in his past and his memories translated to film). It doesn't have to be so explicit.

To come back to my actual question (loop) And Maajid doesn't answer. He doesn't have to.

3 December 2013, Joy:

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I know we may no longer be using a slideshow effect, so this may be irrelevant.

We've also talked about using a recorded conversation between Maajid and me.

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Please see this as a maquette, there are some obvious issues with sound and camera shake that need ironing out, but the concept is hopefully very clear. I have designed it to play on two projections, side by side.

Having just watched it back, I think it is imperative to incorporate far more footage of the photographs. When I filmed them I laid them out arbitrarily (with the exception of images I felt belonged in pairs) and filmed them without planning my approach so that the exploration would be organic. There are images missing that are too important to overlook, and I definitely think there should be more images of Rachel.

Then there is the plans for the audio, which I still feel strongly should be a monologue from Maajid, exploring his own ideas around identity. When I say this I don't mean to suggest anything prescriptive, I mean closer to poetic prose, which we could interject into the footage that is free of Maajid's photographs so that the words aren't perceived to be directly related to individual images. I think that were you to write something together it would be really powerful, and gives us a better opportunity to explore Maajid's relationship with his son and absence in the images. I'm obviously open to discussion on this!

Rachel- your idea of using repeated clips of audio in sections intrigues me, and at 1 minute 7 seconds in you will see I've experimented with a visual of this that could be used along side audio on pairs of images where a figure appears in one of the two.

What do you think of this?

Lastly I should clarify that I intend to work with a professional editor for the final cut of this, I want it to be of the best quality.

4 December 2013, Rachel: On receipt of first cut of film Are you planning on using physical photographs still alongside this footage of the photographs?

I envisage a two room set up, with the film in the first room and the 'archive' of collected material in the second. It would be great to have a table full of the prints for the audience to explore in person, we should provide white gloves so they can get stuck in. That way every experience will be unique, and developed in response to perceptions of the film. I was also thinking that having small screens embedded in the surrounding walls playing the 'theaters' (which we can build on with Maajid's instruction) would be very interesting, particularly if they were undefined. Juxtaposing Brick Lane with the Dome of the Rock would be very interesting.

9 December 2013, Rachel: I thought the shots of the resonant sites for Maajid were stunning. You were blessed with incredible lighting that day! I especially love the one you ended on, of the water. I think once you overlay audio, which Maajid and I will have to discuss, they will come to life even more.

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I'm picturing the two room exhibition layout and wondering, if you do plan to have an archive of images to sift through, what purpose exactly do the shots of the photographs have in the film? You probably explained your idea behind this to me before, so I apologise if I've forgotten.

An initial response to the shots of the photographs was, why are they so neatly arranged, if your perusal of them with the camera is random?

I think the counterpoint of looping audio and scenic video will make for a very interesting texture.

12 December 2013, Maajid: I'm feeling very moved right now, and perhaps too close to the subject matter be able to provide constructive input.

13 December 2013, Joy: I felt that placing the footage of images in the film placed them in an interesting dialogue between a controlled space and one given over to the audience but this is certainly up for debate! they were laid out like that for the sake of pragmatism, I wanted the images to be fully visible and for the footage to not be distracted by my kitchen table underneath. This footage will all need to be re-shot in a studio anyway so maybe we could experiment? We should get together and talk it through and I think it will evolve with the audio too.

I'm excited, I think once we have the audio we will be in a position to look for funding!

13 December 2013, Maajid: I've discovered this audio rant of mine from 2006 at a London "al-Quds Day" rally outside the US embassy, from before I left HT. The attached picture is from that same speech.

Rachel and I think it could work at the exhibition, but only if interspersed with contrary current speeches so that no one leaves thinking this is still what I believe.

This is a classic example of the Islamist "half-truth" narrative, in this case at a rally in an attempt to rabble rouse. http://www.inminds.co.uk/download.php?id=56.dwn 19 December, Rachel: Watching it a second time, I think the timing of some of the fades in and out could be altered slightly so that the transitions between scenes are smoother, but that's all I would/could say technically. Sometimes the camera wobbles in a way that's distracting, but that may be just a matter of preference.

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I had a thought that perhaps the videos of Southend, etc. you have shot could be an extension of some of the photographs on the table. Not to be too prescriptive, but it could be a way of opening up the images and giving them a kinetic dimension, as well as connecting the two settings.

Maajid and I are excited about working on/integrating some audio the over the memory theatres/contemplative spaces you have constructed, so that times and places in his life are illuminated in a nonlinear way and the person of Maajid is manifested without any figurative determinants. The audio of his rabble-rousing next to more sedated, rational self could work as its own spoken dialogue between past and present.

The obelisk at the end of the video is absolutely breathtaking and so evocative!

Especially with the constantly lapping but slightly arrhythmic water. I'm so glad you got that shot.

Let's make a date to get together after we get back. Then we can look at the printed photographs and also talk about how to integrate all the elements.

29 December 2013, Joy: Rachel your feedback is extremely helpful, I will need to re-shoot the footage of the photographs, would you like to join me in doing that? It would be great to put our heads together in a more hands-on context, I think it would be extremely productive. I couldn't agree with you more about the audio, what do you think of creating an audio piece for the archive room?

I'm extremely flattered that you have suggested this project should go towards your MA, I am very much looking forward to meeting up to discuss everything when you're back, we're overdue! I hope you know how invaluable your role is.

I am also hoping you might be interested in getting involved in my proposed project with Tommy. I have a simple concept I am hoping to discuss with him, and your input would be so appreciated. When are you home? I'm going to Bethlehem for a week in early-mid January but I should be available in the first week.

7 January 2014, Rachel: My apologies for always delaying on emailing you back. I want to be sure to include everything I want to, and sometimes searching for the headspace by which to do so can be tricky...

I would love to assist you in re-shooting the photographs, if you haven't already done it.

I have been thinking -- Maajid -- we should continue to get new photographs. In Tennessee it was so sad we didn't have your camera...there were so many perfect images, but perhaps that is for a different time and project.

Maybe when we meet, we can sketch out a proposed architectural scheme for the exhibition? I understand we hope to have one room where a two-channel video installation, along with audio, will be exhibited. In addition, there would be an archive

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room, where viewers will be able to sift through physical prints. Are you proposing we have two channels of audio running, one in each of the rooms?

Over the break, Maajid and I met with a playwright called Emily Mann, who is organising a theatrical production and symposium featuring Maajid at Princeton. She was very enthusiastic about our idea to include an audio component over your filmic memory theatres, as a shadow of Maajid and reflection of his non-linear transformation. I hope you don't mind that I shared with her.

Fortunately also, my adviser and course administrator have been very receptive to the idea of my MA project hinging on our exhibition, as long as I: • look at a parallel historical or contemporary example of an exhibition or film

alongside it; and

• emphasise what I learn through making such a comparison, about the process

of research.

In other words, I have to look at an example outside of my own immediate practice/experience that should give me greater access to a more reflexive set of insights about my own curatorial etc. process.

So I am going to go through my notes of our exchanges and see if anything with leaps to mind for this comparison.

When shall we get together? Maybe we can squeeze in a time before you leave for Bethlehem. p.s. I am also happy to help in any way I can with the Tommy project. We can discuss when we meet.

15 January, Rachel: The way that it's shaping up for me is a non-figurative, visual memoir, with your memory theatres and the audio we have yet to configure.

Are you familiar with the artist Felix Gonzales-Torres? I have been captivated for years now by his billboard series which were erected around New York City in the nineties to reflect on the AIDS crisis. They would be a strong point of reference for our project I think, in that they use unpeopled yet highly evocative landscapes (an unmade bed, for example). At the same time that they are deeply personal (his lover and eventually he died from the virus), they also have strong political overtones. I wrote two creative writing pieces inspired by this series, one of which I posted on my website. I may also use this in a comparative study for my MA project.

10 January, Rachel: Did you want to meet here, to re-shoot the photographs? We can also talk about the audio and how to put it all together. I keep telling Maajid to take the camera out while he's on the campaign trail etc. I've been really enthusiastic about this lately, so he feels

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encouraged, but I suppose he's got too many other things on his mind to ever remember.

On Tuesday I have class, so do you want to aim for Monday? There's also this: https://www.besmartaboutart.com/event/66/dont-try-dont-get-10-insider-tips-forsecuring-funding-sponsorship I can't ever seem to drag myself to these things, but this one does look pretty relevant to us.

22 January, Joy: We can play with how we shoot them so we have a workable model, we will need to do it again once we have more photos. Thank you so much for pushing Maajid to take more!

22 January, Rachel: Amazing! Will you bring printouts of the ones we have thus far?

I was thinking we could start mixing audio to be layered over the two-channels of video, if nothing else. (Surely GarageBand does this?)

We could also discuss exactly what we want to be included in the exhibition, as well as a theoretical floor plan.

Joy: Of course! Really looking forward to it :) Garage Band is good for mocking up audio as a draft, although I thought we were going to use the audio on the shots of Brick Lane etc, not the main thing? Think we've got our wires crossed! Lets give it a go though, always space to experiment.

22 January, Rachel: The memory theatres, correct? Talking in person will be beneficial for clarifying...

I thought it could be cool if the memory theatres (so shots of Brick Lane etc.) were overlaid with audio, in a visual, non-linear portrait of Maajid. So he is absent but present.

We could blend this audio from past and present, of significance to Maajid, so that his imprint is there, if imperceptible to viewers. I see this as a metaphor of him shedding his narrative, prescriptive tone he once had.

Then, the photographs could be displayed elsewhere, or perhaps scattered on a table, so that viewers could sift through them and effectively reconstruct the figurative, literal aspect of the piece.

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Do you have something similar or different in mind? I'm sorry if I've hijacked your project! If we're on separate wavelengths it is because we haven't hammered out these ideas in person.

30 January, Joy (responding to my question to her of why we started this project): I approached Maajid for two interrelated reasons. The first is obvious, and that is that I was looking for someone willing to collaborate in the creation of a photographic document in which the power balances are disrupted. I had come to the conclusion that this was my way forward through writing my dissertation. I examined Emmanuel Levinas' concept of the perfect 'original relation' with the other, in which he proposes that to truly understand the other one must relate 'face-to-face', and that through this relation one can access the face of god (in his instance the Jewish variety). I had concluded in this essay that even if a 'face-to-face' perception was so effective, ultimately the motivation behind it is self serving and therefore Levinas' concept was severely limited by his own ulterior motives. I then proposed that the only person who could represent the other was the other themselves. Obviously there are a tonne of faults in my own philosophy, but this is where I started!

From there I needed to consider who I wanted to work with and why. I had been trying to find the right person for a few months, and when I first met Maajid I actually hadn't thought to propose the idea to him. It was only on reflection afterwards that I thought it through, and I decided to approach him on the basis that I found his current identity as perpetuated by his 'brand' to be emblematic of a global human state. Maajid's identity is fundamentally impacted by the geopolitical ideologies of our time, founded by our generation's conflicts and cultures. Here TJ Demos comes in, as to me he embodied the figure who transcends boarders, both noting and broadening Demos' structure.

I wanted to use this concept of deconstructing a power relation in an image document alongside an exploration of what it meant to go through a transformation that for me was symbolic of our political human condition. In hindsight I was rather hell bent on deconstructing every political narrative around me!

Does this make more sense? I am very aware that I was not as articulate at the time, and I apologise for that. I think I was struggling to find the words at the time, hindsight is a wonderful thing!

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